Unmitigated ramblings

Not to be confused with...

2008-10-21T19:00:00.000-04:00

Those of you who know me know that I am prone to getting arguably crazy ideas into my head about some random thing I want to do from time to time. I'll jump right in and get started, then lose interest/motivation at some point before completion of said task. Fun, no?

So the latest crazy thing is fielding a team for next year's 24 Hours of LeMons. get it? Lemons? Hah! In a nutshell, this is a weekend event comprised of a couple of full track days running wheel to wheel endurance style in cars that are documented to have cost no more than $500, excluding wheels, tires, and safety equipment. How could that not be fun?

I definitely have the skill set necessary to purchase a cheap heap of a car; I've more than amply demonstrated this ability at several points in my life. Hell, some of them have even been halfway reliable; a partial list can be found further on down the page.

So the event calendar for next year hasn't been published yet (mid-November), but I'd guess that it will be about the same time, the end of July. All I need to is get a team of about 4-6 drivers-cum-crew workers, and maybe $3-5K in capital to fund this undertaking? Stranger things have happened, to be sure.

Here are a few links to Jalopnik articles (they're the best coverage I've found of the events so far) with galleries of the entrants in recent races, starting with this year's South Carolina event:

"South" - Kershaw, South Carolina

"New England" - Stafford Springs, Connecticut

"Detroit-ish" - Toledo, O-hi-o

Who knows, if we do well, maybe we can even go on the road with it.

Anyway, that'll do it for now, in the meantime, here are a few words on my addiction to car buying.

My first car, a turd brown '75 Firebird Esprit was $400, IIRC. I bought it before I had a license or even a permit, and never got it registered as a result. Don't remember if it had the 350 or the 400, but I lean toward the 350 hooked up to a TH400. This would have been...1987 maybe? 1988? Drove it around for several months until the brakes went out and we just ditched it on Addison Ave. in Chicago.

Next came the '76 Audi Fox, which was a hand-me-down heap from the 'rents. Drove it around for a while until it got to be too crappy even for me. Sold it for maybe $800? That number seems to stick in my head for some reason. It apparently died on the guy who bought it soon thereafter, and he crank called threatening my life for a few weeks after. Fun.

My first car legally purchased with my own money was a '67 (base) Cutlass convertible. Talked the guy down to $1600, and it came with a decent top, cracked rear plastic window, 330 cubic inch 2bbl "Jetfire" engine, 2-speed PowerGlide auto. The PowerGlide died driving a friend back from Wheaton?, so it got swapped out for a TH400, and I had another one purchased plus a 455 for an eventual rebuild that never happened. Not a bad 30-foot car, and it was great for a summer or two.

There was a '64 Triumph TR4. this was a true POS, as there were no original body panels without gigantic rust holes; the drivers side floorboard was nonexistent, and you had to drive squinty eyed, or get rust flakes in your eyes from the constantly-disintegrating "steel" beneath your feet. One item of note was the purchase price, which started at around $3500, but was negotiated down to $1100 through a perfect storm of good cop/bad cop/worse cop put on my my parents. Asian negotiating skills at their best.

A more complete listing, in almost chronological order of attainment:

'74 Pontiac Firebird Esprit

'83 Datsun 280ZX 2+2
'89 Toyota Supra Turbo Targa
'88 Toyota Supra Turbo Targa (ebay)
'88 Toyota 4Runner SR5 V6 (Auction)
'96? Chrysler Sebring JXi Convertible (Auction)
'93 Toyota Tercel (Auction)
'91 Toyota 1/2 ton Pickup (Hilux) (Auction)
'90 Toyota Celica GT Hatchback (Auction)
'97 Toyota Land Cruiser (ebay)
'98 Lexus GS400 (ebay)

Goddamn prudes...

2008-07-13T23:16:00.004-04:00

Is NOTHING sacred? For heaven's sake, she's doing it FOR the people! Meanwhile, the muggers on the train were left to ply _their_ trade (equally illegal, and far more harmful) undisturbed. On second thought, the train's obviously more crowded as a result, making it far more profitable for the thieves, perhaps she was in collusion with them all along, and the cops arrested her as a preemptive crime-fighting measure! Brilliant! Good job after all!

She vaguely (physically - dark haired brunette, medium height, slim) reminds me of someone familiar, but whom? I don't actually know any subway goddesses, only more mundane everyday ones. Can't quite place it...perhaps it'll (she'll) come to me...

What I have...

2008-06-29T23:18:00.003-04:00

...not to be confused with What I Got, by Sublime; another great song, to be sure, but not exactly on the same plane as the following.

Today, we have some song lyrics. I really dig this song, albeit the Antillas edit more so the the album version, which is a bit draggy and slow, or the Antillas Club mix, which has the good tempo, but too much filler at the beginning. The tune is catchy (as are almost all the Conjure One/Poe collaborations) and Poe's vocals have that haunting quality I love.

Extraordinary Ways - Conjure One featuring Jane aka Poe

What I have is nothing to my name
No property to speak of
And no trophy for my game
Intangible and worthless
My assets on the page
My coffers are empty
Any offer of safety has faded away
But what I have
What I have is

On an ordinary day
The extraordinary way
You take what I can give and you treasure it
On an ordinary day
The extraordinary way
You turn to me and say, I believe in this

That makes me lucky
God, I'm lucky, so much luckier than I ever thought I'd be
'Cause what I have (what I have)
Means so very little to this world
A promise that I kept and a bridge that I saved before it burned
The sacrifice that I made
Brought me to my knees
A choice that cost me everything and set somebody else free
But what I have
Is the value that you see in these things

On an ordinary day
The extraordinary way
You take what I can give and you treasure it
On an ordinary day
The extraordinary way
You turn to me and say, I believe in this

That makes me lucky
God I'm lucky, so much luckier than I ever thought I'd be
'Cause what I have
Is the value that you see in these things

And everytime I forget those things you bring them right back to me

With your patience
When I'm blinding mad
And your passion
When I'm really, really bad
And your eyes
Taking in everything I am
And your body and soul and the way that you know
How I treasure you

On an ordinary day
The extraordinary way
You take what I can give and you treasure it
On an ordinary day
The extraordinary way
You turn to me and say, I believe in this

That makes me lucky
God I'm so lucky
So much luckier than I ever thought I'd be

On an ordinary day
The extraordinary way
You take what I can give and you treasure it
On an ordinary day
The extraordinary way
You turn to me and say, I believe in this

As for the actual lyrics themselves, I'm not quite sure how the second verse fits in, but I really feel the first one, and the third one, wow...brilliant. Here's to hoping that that new Poe album is due out soon.

Tomorrow, a passage from House of Leaves by Annie's brother Mark Z., and the genius of THEIR joint work.

Geek love...

2008-06-19T23:58:00.002-04:00

For all my favorite geeks out there (you know who you are), I present the following: (hope it's legible...)

I like to think that my life has taken the path of the first "no" response, as I HAVE known the touch of a woman (or two, possibly at the same time) ;) but I WAS exposed to D&D at a young age! Though I guess "young" is relative...I was what...13 maybe?

My only question is, what if the geek in question IS a girl? I mean surely they exist? I know I've encountered a few in my time, and at _least_ one (the only one that comes to mind ATM), in my mind, was mind-blowingly hot. So what gives?

Ah well, yet another imponderable mystery of life. Perhaps there will be a Discovery Channel special on it. Remind me to set the TiVo.

For the love of...

2008-06-14T01:39:00.004-04:00

Well, it appears that The Almighty Googloggeraps comglomerate has hosed my page, and my last attempt to embed a Google Street View photo has not only not appeared, but all the subsequent (I know, they're actually chronologically earlier) embeddings have all shifted up one, thus rendering all the last several posts almost completely nonsensical. Crap.

Mayhaps I spoke too soon on the untold evils and miscellaneous shenanigans of Friday the Thirteenth.

Ah well, will work on it later.

Crap.

A day of untold misfortune...

2008-06-13T23:58:00.004-04:00

Well, not really. I actually had a pretty good day, and I kept forgetting it was Friday the Thirteenth.

Homeowners' Association Board meeting, read water meters, shop for some random computer miscellany, mess with the new(ish) workhorse color printer, and I guess that's about it. Seemed like more while I was doing it.

By way of "old business", the name of the place from yesterday was "Scoozi!" It's on Huron (410 West, to be exact), just West of Orleans (where I used to work at Tripp-Lite before they moved to the old Spiegel campus, and the place on Orleans, (500 I think) got converted into condos. I always thought that building would make for good condos, guess I must have the real estate developer's eye. It's in turn right across from CDW. Anyway, I digress...) It's just West of Orleans, and just North of Ohio...which for some reason I was thinking was the Eisenhower, because of the very large on/off ramp thinger, which is more reminiscent of a highway ending than a mundane on/off ramp. Does that make sense?

Anyway, Scoozi! is in fact a Lettuce Entertain You enterprise, and both still seem to be around. My beloved Fettuccine Bolognese has evolved into a Tagliatelle Bologenese. I've never even heard of Tagliatelle, but then again, it seems that there are about fifteen billion types of pasta, all of which have proper Italian names, that I've never heard of. Take Gemelli, for example. This is my current favorite pasta, it's kind of like a closed cell...well not really closed, but tubular Rotini (I never know when/if you're supposed to capitalize pasta names.) Anyway, it's good stuff, check it out.

So back to Scoozi! one more time, and to wrap up, I suppose the prices seem to be pretty much what I remember them to be, so it's not by any means exorbitant. If you're in Chicago and in the mood for decent Italian, I highly recommend it, based on my handful of visits over 8-10 years ago. Cant' get more wholehearted or confident a recommendation as that, eh?

And finally, here's a look at the giant tomato I mentioned. See how it just sort of hovers, ready to take out the least-suspecting patron? Frightening.

Enjoy.

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What's the name of that place...

2008-06-12T23:38:00.003-04:00

...in Chicago...

It's a restaurant, Italian, a Lettuce Entertain You venture. I used to love it, it has a giant tomato precipitously perched above the entryway. Kate always used to say that we (or SOMEONE) needed to catalogue all the giant/oversized sculptures of things in Chicago, there always seemed to be an abundance.

Anyway, la casa de Tomato (or salmonella delivery device, these days)...I think it was on Ontario, perhaps? No, it couldn't have been Ontario...Erie? Crap. Little help? The name of it completely escapes me. It had the giant open warehouse decor, bar in the front, open kitchen, I used to get the Fettuccine Bolognese, it was the best I'd ever had at the time, and has yet to be dethroned. Though Jim Hall's dad's cream sauce pasta in Minneapolis back in '96(?) was pretty damned close.

I need to look it up, Watching Top Chef the other night made me think of it, I doubt it's still around, heck Lettuce Entertain You probably isn't even around anymore. Remember Bones on...Lincoln Ave? Is that where it was? I can't even remember anymore.

Anyone? Anyone?

Speaking of simply-fucking-amazing places to eat in Chi (which is an 18-part-blog-series of its own), I heard Chop House mentioned in passing somewhere recently, and just about got my mouth watering. That place was for sure on Ontario...right across from Hard Rock, before you get to Portillo's on the right. Now that was the finest piece of cow I've ever had in my mouth, bar none. Seriously. I don't think Michele appreciated it at the time. Did she even have steak? Man, this CRS is really killing me these days.

Oh well, more on Chicago food soon. For now, I must go find the name of the place.

Fun with Google Street View...(Episode 1)

2008-06-11T03:38:00.004-04:00

In case there's any doubt that Chicago still rocks the world, I present this view of daily life in suburban Chi-town:

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If you click one arrow NW, you can see the adventurous young lady approach the car, hands already at the leading (bottom) edge of her shirt, hinting at the luscious goodness that's sure to follow, and one click SE shows her walking away, mission accomplished. In a way it's a pity that we didn't get the full-effect flash, but then again, it most certainly would have been flagged and removed, ne'er to be seen by mine eyes (nor all of yours). So in effect, we all got to see more by having been exposed to less. Deep. Is it better to have been flashed and lost, or to never have seen boobal goodness at all? Also deep.

Although as far as an obligatory caveat, she could well be underage...either way, here's to quick-thinking American girls! The terrorists have NOT won!

To think that I briefly lived not five miles from that very spot...*sigh*.

In perhaps a more "urban" context, are these upstanding (at the moment) ladies just hanging out, or "working" and on the clock? (Oakland, CA)

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And on the very next corner:

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To be fair, this IS at a bus stop, but who's to say that's not the perfect place to set up shop? I mean it's one block up!

More craziness soon.

Welcome to civilization...

2008-06-10T19:18:00.002-04:00

From Wikipedia's Google Street View page:

On June 10, 2008, twelve more cities were introduced: Atlanta, Buffalo, Charlotte, Columbus (Ohio), Fresno, Jackson, Jacksonville, Louisville, Oklahoma City, Sacramento, St. Louis and Virginia Beach.

This is easily the coolest thing I've seen online in...OK, maybe ever. I first discovered this feature a few months ago (late to the party, yes.) and used it extensively to revisit my childhood stomping grounds in Chicago. Ah, memories. At the time, I read that the feature was coming to Charlotte; the requisite photos had already been taken, and merely needed releasing. Well, today was the magic day, and needless to say, I haven't been ~~terribly~~ AT ALL productive thus far today, alas.

More comments on various aspects of what this new technology brings with it later, but for now, enjoy. Let me know with any requests for virtual tour guide suggestions, or where to find me. (Or at least my car/bike.)

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Drugs aren't necessarily bad, but they can be addictive...

2008-04-11T03:14:00.005-04:00

While I was typing a particular email address tonight, I was struck by the correlational coincidence of a random word association, a metaphor I made in passing some days ago, and how little it can take to latch onto an addiction. Perhaps even a new nickname? (Not for me, that just wouldn't make any sense, sheesh.)

MDMA (Methylenedioxymethamphetamine), AKA Ecstasy, E, X, XTC, and improperly Extasy, per Wikipedia:

"a semisynthetic member of the phenethylamine class of psychoactive drugs...The drug is well known for its tendency to produce feelings of overwhelming euphoria, a strong sense of intimacy with others, diminished feelings of fear and anxiety, and pronounced overall civility..."

Man, I need to get me some of that! Sounds like a fun place to be. Maybe you know a guy who knows a guy?

Funny things, these coincidences.

There she is, the object of our affections, isn't she cute? And why do all these animated molecule things look vaguely like caterpillars? I'm sure there's some sort of subtextual phallic significance there, but I'm not looking for it.

Fala mais uma vez...

2008-04-07T23:58:00.002-04:00

Today, we briefly explore the wacky world of semantics. To make an overbroad generalization, people these days seem to have little respect for the language, when it's really all that separates us from our tree-swinging forebears. So much depth and complexity can be conveyed with just a few minute sounds strung together, whether intentional, or by subtlest of subtexts. From deep, life-changing affirmations, spoken with the utmost care and forethought (say it again, please!), to throwaway expletives mindlessly spat out (but no less telling) in the heat of passion.

Some days (though fewer and further between, of late) it just hits me out of nowhere, the dichotomous nature of how words, language, and lexicon, while powerful enough to bring us to today's level of civilization and technological domination (grass huts notwithstanding), sometimes also utterly fail us. Think about that for a minute. Mind? Boggling? Let's move on.

So to those who choose to truly communicate feeling, emotion and honest thoughts, obrigada. Every day has the potential to be Christmas.

Goooooooodbye, chronic lateness!

2008-04-01T01:28:00.003-04:00

In the absence of shocking personal news of my own, I'd like to take this opportunity to make y'all aware of what may prove to be the single most genius product/tool offering by Google/gmail yet.

They have introduced a feature that will forever end any semblance of lateness on my part! And best of all, you heard it here first! That's right, I emailed each and every one of my loyal readers, the very first day I got my first Gmail account in '04. Even if you weren't yet reading this blog then! I know, amazing, right? Thanks!

I present to you (again) Google Custom Time.

All hail Google!

http://mail.google.com/mail/help/customtime/index.html

No longer will I miss out on those "First reply gets to make out with this stunningly chesty hottie..." emails we're all plagued with every day, or be harangued by "you were supposed to have this in by...", but enjoy a new era of "See? I, Gene, was right all along! Just look at the email I sent you a week ago. See? It even says you read it already. Just what are you trying to pull here, mister?"

No, really check your email. I told you about this YEARS ago. Seriously, yo. Plus, you totally cannot argue with the testimonials on that linked page. And, there's also equations with obscure symbols that I KNOW you don't remember from calculus, so there. Totally iron-clad.

Also, I don't want to perpetuate any rumours that I put the G in Gmail, but it's already kind of out there, now isn't it? Plus, you can't really find any fault in the rationale. I've tried. The logic is sound, I tell you.

Enjoy, and you're welcome.

-Gene

Motivation is everything...

2008-03-28T03:58:00.004-04:00

Here are a couple inspirationally-themed poster style thingies that Managerial-types like to put in break rooms, boardrooms, and the like, presumably to motivate and inspire the minimum-wage sales bots (i.e. Me, 15 years ago) to "go-out-there-and-give-110-percent!".

I like these better. The first two are mildly apropos, since I seem to be at school so much lately, and the warm weather brings out the hotties and belly shirts. The last one...well, I just like Futurama, OK? Enjoy, there will probably be more in a day or two. Maybe even some LOLcats! Yay!

Never a dull moment at the Wal-Mart...

2008-02-19T00:58:00.001-05:00

So my favourite time to shop is at like midnight or later on a weeknight, primarily due to the dearth of people in the store, and abundance of rockstar parking in the lot. Thing is, when the lot is empty save a few cars and as many errant shopping carts (or "buggies", in the locally oh-so-colorful vernacular), one is occasionally tempted to do a donut or 42. Or in the spirit of the local NASCAR fetish, otherwise zoom one's way around the lot-cum-autocross-track. That is until I...er "noticed" a landmark of sorts:

"OK," I think, "WTF was that?!"

Then, "Hrm...this isn't good..."

OK, by now you're realizing that this isn't my car. As it turns out, I was inside shopping, and this little incident doesn't have anything to do with me. I notice, exiting the store, what looks like a stunt car up on two side wheels, only completely still. Again, "WTF?!" Get in the car, drive around to the site, and at first we can't figure out what the deal is. There's a tow truck, but why's the car up on its side like that? On approach, it kind of looks like the car's up on some kind of a ram type thingie, there's a yellow cylindrical support on the elevated side, but I can't think of any type of repair that would be so pressing as to require that sort of device.

OK, now we start to realize that some clown has not only hit an aisle sign post, but hit it with enough force to completely high center the car on the 3 foot concrete abutment supporting said post, which has now partially collapsed under the impact of the collision.

You really have to give this person moron props for sticking this landing. Seriously, how many stuntmen could have done this if they tried? To not completely collapse the abutment? to have the whole mess stop right when it did and catch the concrete on the lip of the lower body between it and the frame? Sheer unintentional genius.

At least the car itself doesn't seem to have sustained much damage. Not sure if Wal-Mart will be billing the poor slob who damaged their property, but if they do, it's surely deserving.

All I can say is that I wish I had my camera for some proper photos, I don't think I'm going to see many of these in my remaining days, and I'm hoping there are quite a few of those yet to come.

...and oh yeah, I guess I'm back...

;)

April first shenanigans...

2007-04-02T23:52:00.000-04:00

Well, needless to say, it was all a sham. Particularly ill-conceived (no pun), no doubt, perhaps made more convincing if I'd actually been posting of late, rather than coming back suddenly for a big announcement. Finally, though it's been almost a year, my last such attempt at mass hucksterism is listed a mere eights posts below this year's entry. *sigh*.

Now, in a fairly transparent effort to distract attention from our own shenanigans, here are some other frauds perpetrated by bigger entities than myself:

http://www.google.com/tisp
http://mail.google.com/mail/help/paper/more.html
http://www.geeks.com/asimo.html

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/April_fools
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/April_1%2C_2007

Enjoy, more actual updates and musings soon.

-Gene

"DON'T kick the baby..."

2007-04-01T23:38:00.000-04:00

My new year's resolution was to get back into updating this page regularly, and now that my self-granted 90-day grace period has expired, it's time to see if I can motivate myself to do it.

Well, it's been very nearly a year of firsts, (not to mention completely devoid of posts) and the mother of them all will be the topic of today's update. Two announcements/revelations will be made today; which is the bigger will be left to the reader to decide. The remaining updates covering the time since my last post will be fleshed out in the next several days'/weeks' posts.

Ms. Strawberry (more on her later) and I have been dating for all but a year now, and cohabitating for a couple/few months less than that. Things are better than I could ever possibly hope for, and we have grand (though open-ended and nonspecific) plans for the future. One aspect that was heretofore undiscussed is the minor matter of children. I've never had, and never thought I wanted, but my life has gotten to the point where it's 180° from where it was when I formulated the no-kids posture.

Anyway, to make a long story slightly less long, we're expecting. (OMFG)

No experience or time in the south would of course be complete without a true shotgun wedding, and so it shall be. Announcement will be made here, as well as via email to invitees; be on the lookout for one or both in the nearish future.

To get to that point, it's necessitated reconsidering our respective positions (of "never" and "never again", respectively) on the concept of marriage.

Appropriately, we'll be registering at Stockroom.com, victoriassecret.com, and tiffany.com. Our friends are, after all, nothing if not generous! (hint, hint)

Developments as they occur...

150th post...

2006-06-08T23:58:00.000-04:00

[insert fanfare]

Televisions programs normally celebrate their 100th installment, but I think I missed that milestone, or at least was unaware of it's passing at the time...besides, it's taken me so long to get back into anything even remotely resembling a regular posting schedule that it's pretty much a non-event anyway.

Got a couple Engrish(.com)-y things to post for tomorrow, might be marginally funny, stay tuned...

Beastly update...

2006-06-07T23:55:00.000-04:00

Apparently, there's some lady in England who has some demonic forces shaping if not her entire existence, at least the statistical events in her life. Observe, from the BBC:

A woman born weighing 6lbs 6oz on 6 June at 0600 BST, and who is 66 on 6/6/06, is refusing to drive on her birthday to help avoid accidents.

She has a normal enough name, June Dumas (if the parents were whimsically inclined enough to name her after her birth month, why not make it just a bit more dramatic and go with something more like Demonella, Satanita, Beelzebelle, or something along those lines?) The photo posted of her seems to try to indicate that she's not particularly evil looking, but she DOES have red hair...VERY suspicious...

The article goes on to quote her thusly:

"The woman from Hove said she had become less superstitious as she got older, but she still saluted single magpies, and avoided walking under ladders."

I've heard fo the walking under ladders thing, but WTF is up with saluting magpies?! Do we even have those here? Weren't Heckle and Jeckle magpies? Does anyone even remember that cartoon? Hrm. It's all quite eerie, if you ask me.

My question is this...none of this information is of a surprise nature, so how are we just hearing about it now, and not like months ago, when we could have had proper time to prepare to burn her at the stake or something like that? I'll be smelting a silver bullet if anyone needs me. No sense in taking any chances, the demon lady is just a short plane ride away...

Ah well, the lord's work is never done...or something like that...I leave you with a birthday quote from Ms. Beelzebella (my favorite from the suggestions above) herself:

"I used to be a superstitious person but as you get older you tend to think that what will happen will happen," she said.

So the moral of the story?

It is what it is. Carry on.

Day of the beast...

2006-06-06T23:38:00.000-04:00

An old crappy joke I know:

What's 666?

The mark of the beast.

What's 667?

Neighbor of the beast. (Which should really be 664 or 668, but hey this is a lame joke, and standards are not terribly high here.)

Not even remotely funny, but for some reason, it randomly makes me chuckle when I hear it. Go figure, guess that makes me a devil sympathizer.

OK, Omen remake hype notwithstanding, has anything outwardly evil happened to anyone today? I slept in (as usual), got on the computer, IMed with some people, went to Sam's Club, had dinner, IMed some more, then wrote this. Fantabulous! But sadly, bereft of any evil overtones.

This weekend's plans may involve a trip to the beach (Wrightsville Beach/Wilmington) for a house party, or else a house party here in town (Mooresville), we'll see as the weekend draws near(er) what the final plans will be. DJing at the club Friday, blah blah blah...

More soon, it'll be my Satan's day resolution, yeah that's it...

Another cop-out...

2006-05-23T18:00:00.000-04:00

I hate to make this a theme by posting basically two in a row, but this one was also misappropriated from a friend's myspace...more substantiative post(s) to follow, promise!

How many windows do you have in your room?

One.

Hardwood floor, tile, or carpet?

Carpet, white Berber.

What size bed do you have?

Queen.

What does your comforter look like?

Burgundy duvet, 300TC, but in dire need of replacement; it's seen better days.

What color are your walls?

Sort of a dark olive drab.

Is your room big?

I think it measured out at 13'x 14'.

Is it clean?

As much as can be expected of a bachelor type.

Do you have the following in your room:

[X] Desk (Milk crates and a birch laminate plank)
[X] More than 3 sources of light (Indirect spot/floods)
[X] Cell phone (Cingular RAZR V3 silver)
[ ] Chair
[Need one] Bookshelf
[Need one] Dresser
[X] Painted walls (Didn't we go over this already?)
[X] Candles (Just a couple, holdovers from girlfriends past...)
[X] Nightstand (Again, milkcrates...see a design theme?)
[X] TV (An old Toshiba colorstream 27")
[X] TiVo (With lifetime subscription, can't get those anymore...bastards!)
[X] CD player/stereo (Computer, anyway)
[ ] Bean bag chair
[X] Computer/laptop (Mac Ti Powerbook and P4HT Wintel clone)
[ ] Posters
[ ] Paintings
[ ] Pictures
[ ] Walk-in closet
[ ] Pictures of you and friends
[X] Large mirror
[X] Bed
[X] Stuffed animal(s) (Not really animals, per se; Flat Eric and the pets.com sock puppet)
[X] Own bathroom
[X] Clock
[ ] Clothes on the floor
[ ] Guitar
[ ] Lava lamp
[ ] Smoke detector
[ ] Piano/keyboard
[X] Locking door
[ ] Can of soda
[X] Bottle of water
[ ] Blacklight or redlight
[ ] Something about your own country
[ ] Water polo ball
[ ] Soccer ball
[ ] Volleyball
[ ] Basketball
[ ] Softball stuff
[ ] Frisbee
[ ] Tennis ball
[ ] Beach ball
[ ] Football
[ ] Baseball
[X] CDs (Not many)
[ ] Surround sound
[ ] Sofa
[ ] Liquor bottles
[ ] Flag
[ ] Stop sign
[ ] Exit sign
[ ] Caution tape
[ ] Paintball gun
[X] Airsoft gun (Beretta 92FS, Glock 17)
[ ] Calendar
[X] Real guns (Glock 17 9mm, Glock 36 .45, and Sig P220 .45)
[ ] Real weapons
[ ] Cigarettes
[X] Cigars (Cubans! Cohibas and Romeo y Julietas, Dominican Ashtons)

Alarmist propaganda...

2006-05-07T10:18:00.000-04:00

Cribbed from someone on my myspace friends' list:

[X] Are you actually Asian in the first place?
[ ] Were you born in an Asian country?
[ ] Do YoU tYpE lIkE tHiS aLoT?
[ ] Do you eat rice almost every single day?
[X] Can you use chopsticks?
[X] Have you attended Chinese/Korean/etc school as a kid?
[X] Can you speak an Asian language?
[X] Do you spike(guys)/highlight(girls) your hair?
[ ] Do you have an "azn crew"?
[ ] Do/Did you get at least a 3.0 gpa?

Total: 5

[X] Do you like kimchi
[X] Have you ever designed a website?
[ ] Do you know the song "got rice?"
[X] Have you dated Asian girls/boys?
[ ] Do your sns/email have the words: AzN, gurl, boy, sweet, cute, hot, dragon, baby, angel, lil, princess, etc?
[X] Is your last name Lee, Nguyen, Pham, Trinh, Houng, Chang, Jung, Chung, Liu, Wang, Wong, Kim, Lim or Choi?
[X] Do you take off your shoes before entering someone's house?
[X] You have both an Asian and an English name?
[X] Do/Have you watch(ed) anime?
[X] Do you listen to techno?

Total: 8

[X] Do/Have you obsessed/infatuated over an Asian celebrity?
[ ] Do you listen to Asian pop music?
[X] Have you watched asian movies?
[ ] Do you have uncanny math abilities?
[X] Do you drink pearl milk tea or bubble tea?
[X] Do/Have you play(ed) Online games like Counterstrike, Star/Warcraft, Diablo, Final Fantasy, etc?
[ ] are you a master at DDR?
[X] Do/Have you played the violin/piano/flute?
[X] Do your parents beat you if you get bad grades?
[X] Do you/your parents drive an Asian made car?
[ ] Do people call you by another Asian person's name?
[X] When dining out, do your parents fight with other people to pay the check?

Total: 8

[ ] Are you a very good artist?
[ ] Do you speak ur azn language w/ your friends?
[X] Do/Have you or your relatives own(ed) an Asian restaurant/market?
[X] Do you slurp soup?
[X] Have you visited your home country at least twice?
[X] Does your home smell like incense?
[X] Do you have/had glasses or braces?
[X] Do you like to read?
[X] Do/Did you NOT have an allowance?
[ ] Do you mostly eat at Asian resturaunts?
[X] Do you speak your native language at home?

Total: 8

[X] Have you eaten dim sum/dumplings before?
[ ] Are your parents fobs and barely speak english?
[X] Do you have tons of cousins/siblings/uncles/aunts/etc
[X] Can you twirl a pencil between your fingers?
[ ] Have you ever solved a rubik's cube?
[ ] Do/Have you read manga?
[ ] Is the mall your hang out place?
[ ] Do you think you are short?
[X] Do you/your parents save ketchup packets/napkins/etc from restaurants for "later use"?
[ ] Do you have ASIAN PRIDE?!
Total: 4

Add totals and multiply by 2 to calculate your Asian quotient.

5 + 8 + 8 + 8 + 4 = 33

33 x 2 = 66

Gene is apparently, by some inexplicable universal force, deemed 66% Asian.

Now granted, this is a very flawed metric by which to measure one's Asian quotient, but by this little gauge, I've somehow scored high enough to be 2/3rds Asian, and only 33%, or one third creamy white filling. Anyone who knows me knows that this is simply not possible. It's interesting to note, however, that the maximum possible score on this exercise is 53, or 106%. now my pitiful math skills notwithstanding, that's more Asian than anyone I know or have met.

Ah well, time for bed.

Alas, poor Bailey...

2006-04-04T22:32:00.000-04:00

Those who know me know that I'm generally not one prone to flights of sentimentality or things of that nature, but today's entry is going to be a bit of a departure from my usual fare.

My flatmate S's dog, Bailey, a three year old pale yellow lab pup (Not really a pup, I know, but I have this thing for calling all dogs pups) appears to have gotten into something and had been acting out of sorts over the weekend, just throwing up a lot and kind of hiding out around to the side of the house, which is weird, becasue he really never does either; definitely not an outdoorsy dog. I guess it's a well-known fact that labs love to chew on and potentially eat everything they can get their jaws around, and this guy was no different. He loved to run off with all manner of items, "no matter how personal", according to S. He had a couple boat bumpers that were all chewed to bits that you could play fetch with him with, or he'd be walking around woth something in his mouth, trying to keep it away from you if he got your attention; S's checkbook, his chew toys, the little bag thing I keep my condoms in, mail, literally anything. Otherwise, he'd go out to the recycling bin and pull out all kinds of things: 2-liter bottles, food cans, milk jugs, whatever.

I've always liked dogs, and Bailey was a fun pup, content to lounge around the house with me all day. He liked to get riled up and fetch things in the yard, but definitely not so much so as to be persistently annoying like many other dogs his age, esp labs. Probably his only shortcoming was that he liked to jump up on you from time to time, definitely nowhere near as frequently as some dogs, but a little bit. Tough with a hundred pound dog, even one time can be overwhelming if you're not expecting it. I'm sure it was all just youthful ebullience, though, and have no doubt he'd have given it up with a little encouragement. I'm definitely wary of getting a dog myself, now especially, primarily because (and many of these are similar to the "no kids" rationale,) 1) all the hassle and expense of having a dog, 2) emotional attachment and eventual separation pains, 3) the removal of spontaniety in planning, always having to make arrangements for care and such, in this case much more os than say cats or fish...I'm sure there are others, but you get my point.

So Sunday night, S says he's not doing well, and decides to take him to the emergency vet's. Several hours later, like 1am, he gets back and says that they want to do exploratory surgery; he doesn't seem like he's getting any better, and they can kinda feel something in there. S and I kinda talk about it, alternating between "yeah, definitely, operate if they think it'll help", and "dogs have been eating things they shouldn't for thousands of years, he'll be fine" mentalities. He decided to sleep on it and talk to the vet some more the next day.

Monday evening, S gives me the update that they did indeed operate, and that they found some sort of hard yellow plastic thing in two pieces, attached to a string or rope of some kind. It had somehow gotten caught up in his intestines, and bound up a 2-foot(?) section, which had to be removed. Things were touch-and-go for a while, and they needed to keep him until Thursday, but that he should be okay after the ordeal. What the hell could he have gotten into? Hard yellow plastic/rubber with a string attachment? What could that even be?

Imagine my surprise when I saw that S was home when I got up today, around noon. He tells me that Bailey's died, and that they've buried him in the backyard. I'm glad, and that seems to be the right place for him, he so loved romping around back there. S seems to be taking it well, but I'm still in shock. I just saw him and was playing with him a few days ago! He was the very picture of dog health! How can this be? I never even took any pictures of/with him! Never got to take him to the park or anything! We were going to pick up girls together! It's funny how attached we can get, sometimes without even knowing, to pets in such a short time. I first saw/met Bailey exactly a month ago today...it's still all very surreal, not having him running off with my socks all the time.

I suppose it's kind of morbid to note that today's April 4th, 4.4. The Chinese (a culture that tends to be fundamentally superstitious to begin with) have a belief that 4 is an unlucky number, because it's a homophone for death, or to die. Creepy.

It turned out to be a weird, weird, weird weekend; mildly rough times, to be sure. We'll miss you, Bales.

Holiday antic(s)...

2006-04-02T16:41:00.000-04:00

Not much time to peruse April fools day sites this year, the only one I check religiously anyway is Google's, this year with Google Romance. Not their best work by a long shot, but it was halfway clever, with some funny aspects. I found it to be a little too obvious in other regards, like some of the verbiage. I mean by now everyone expects brilliance from them, or at least an outdoing of the previous year's antics, but eh. Ah well. A good effort nonetheless.

Some of their past endeavours can be found here, here, or here.

An eventful weekend, more to follow if I can pull myself away from all the avoidance of things I should be doing.

His Noodly Appendage...

2006-04-01T06:30:00.000-05:00

Y'all have heard me joke about the FSM numerous times in the past, I'm sure. That was all well and good for its time, a portion of my life overcome with hedonistic pleasures and ever-increasingly obscene and despicable things, including the rejection of organized religion. I now still see the humour in it, but also realize that like all things childish in nature, we must discard such foolishness at the appropriate times, and embrace more mature behavioural patterns; Call it "becoming a man", if you will.

It all started on the long drive back from DC. When one is presented with long expanses of free time and introspection, especially performing mindless activities such as driving, the mind has the opportunity to flow to strange, seemingly unfamiliar places. This is probably the closest approximation I can think of to explain what happened to me. It was never a singular moment of clarity, cathartic, epiphanous, purgatory, or otherwise, but more of a gradual realization that while time on this planet may be short, and there's not much sense in frittering that away, there's even less rationale in mortaging one's time in eternity for a bit of sinful delight now. While there are those who would gladly "pay you for Tuesday for a hamburger today", so to speak, no one would argue that an eternity of Tuesdays wouldn't ever be worth a singular today, no matter how metaphorically succulent, tasty, or pleasurable.

There's inherent temptation in a world purview of carpe diem. It has a tendency to steer people in a direction of endless, banal justifications of "hey, life's too short," "you only live once," or "if not now, when?" To which I now can unequivocally respond (respectively), "yeah, compared to the afterlife," "you also only suffer through damnation once, it's just longer," and my new favourite, "indeed, you definitely won't be able to do it once you're already IN hell!" I could go on, but I'm sure it'll seem preachy to most of my sinner readership if I lay it on too thick now.

Oddly enough, part of my revelation came from the pompous, self-righteous, and unholy maw of someone I previously looked up to, Jon Stewart and the puppeteers that comprise Comedy Central and Viacom. How I was able to endure (and forgive me, even find remotely entertaining) the continuous slander of holy men such as Pat Robertson, the Pope, and the rest of the religious mouthpieces of the world, is slightly beyond me at the moment. I suppose Mr. Stewart feels falsely safe in his Judaic cocoon, but clearly, his sins are just as real as all of ours, and you don't have to be religious to feel eternal hellfire!

It seems strange, but the divine hand of the Lord seems to touch us just when we're at our darkest moments. In the last several days, nothing less than that has intercepted the collision course that has become my life of late. Without going into too much excruciating detail, suffice it to say that my eyes have finally been opened to the folly of my ways, and while it will take a lifetime of atonement and repentance, that thank the Lord that it happened now, while I'm still able to assuage the universal harm of my lifetime of actions and inactions.

For those of you who know me solely from the club, I regret that we won't have the opportunity to say my goodbyes in person, since I will no longer be attending. At least those of you who read this medium will have some closure. I ask that you pass along (discreetly; you should be able to handle that, right?) the news only to those who specifically inquire of me, and not idle gawkers interested solely in the baser pleasure of vile gossip.

Of course, at this juncture, I must ask, whether you, loyal reader, have accepted Jesus as your personal saviour? It's never too late! If there's hope for an habitual sinner like myself, literally everyone and anyone can be saved, you just have to want it. It is not my place to judge any of you, but I do know that there were those both more and less wicked than I; it is up to all of you to individually find yourselves, to find the Lord within, and seek salvation. The key is not in the ease in which you can ask for forgiveness, after all, ALL can be forgiven...but can any of us gamble with our eternal souls that we won't get hit by a bus, or otherwise perish in a way that prohibits us from accepting salvation at the last minute? Is that something you're comfortable with? Allowing a "whoops, didn't see that coming" to stand between you and the pearly gates? Choose wisely, my beloved bretheren. I am taking steps to bring myself closer to the possibility of eternal bliss at the feet of our Lord, and I hope to see each and every one of those who are dear to me in that paradise.

I'm still contemplating the width, breadth, and depth of my committment to this new life/calling, but should things go in the direction I'm thinking, I may have no further need for my worldly and material posessions. If any of you would like to have anything of mine in particular, please send me an email or note it in the comments here. I'll try to weigh conflicting requests against the basis, duration, nature, world benefit and sincerity of our relationships, and come up with what will hopefully be equitable divisions of disputed articles. I do ask, however, that in exchange for the consideration, that you accept my determination without dischord amongst yourselves; I wouldn't want my actions to create further strife and chaos in the world I inhabit with all of you, but rather, to bring you all closer together, and in a direction closer to the Heavenly Father.

I will try and maintain this blog moving forward, but am a little conflicted and unsure as to the proper way to handle my old postings. On the one hand, they are accounts of my sinful and heathenly ways, but by the same token, they also serve as a constant reminder of how low I'd sunk before truly finding my spirituality, and perhaps they can serve as a beacon or roadmap for someone else. Father, give me strength and clarity in seeing the proper path, and if necessary, the strength to part with all my hard work and it's spoils.

The best of luck, brothers and sisters.

Go with God, Blessed Be, and Godspeed,

-Gene the (newly and improvedly) pious

Moving day (week)...

2006-03-09T23:38:00.000-05:00

Now playing: Artful Dodger featuring Romina Johnson - Movin' Too Fast (Bump and Flex version)

I've just spent the past week (well, three and a half days) moving. I've been in this last place I think almost a year and a half. It was initially only meant to be temporary, but seemed to work well for a while. The dynamic, though, somewhat less-than-ideal, while initially just slightly bothersome, started to become grating and repressive; I didn't want to be there, and going home was never an inviting prospect. It was time for a change, and I decided to take a bit of a leisurely avenue in this process, since the last several moves I've participated in were all one-day affairs, or several-day-long-nonstop-death-march -type ordeals (read:Chicago). I spent the prior week perusing the local classifieds (OK, 5 minutes), tired of that and then went back to my old housing standby, craigslist. Standby meaning that I used it once, maybe twice in the past with varyingly good results.

There, I saw some interesting ads, met some quirky folks, saw some cool places, read about some total dumps, and saw a few photos of lord only knows what.

I find that searching for roommates (or "flatmates", as Laura and other European types are fond of saying,) has all the worst parts of dating composited into one experience. You go out into the world, and however you find these people, you have all of about 20-30 minutes to recall everything you've ever learned about character assessment and apply it to this poor individual, who is at the very same time, if they've the presence of mind to do so, making their own judgment of your suitability to task. Then, just as a further enticement to make the right decision, you are lunging into a cohabitation arrangement that even (prudent) lovers won't touch for x amount of time, if ever. If you judge shrewdly, you'll be rewarded with limitless joy in a domicile that embodies all the happiness, tranquility, peace, serenity, and regenerative effects that a warm home should, and if not, well, you get to physically touch, move, and touch again, every single thing you own a second time, and pretty soon, to boot. No pressure, though...have fun with it!

First up, I met a girl who had just gotten out of a four month roommate horror story of her own. Probably not the worst roommate ever, but maybe six tenths of the worst roommate ever, based on her retelling. She seems very enthusiastic over the phone and e-mail. So much so, and in such a way as to not be overly cheery, I actually am very enthusiastic about the prospect of meeting her, and have a pretty good feel for the place. I meet her, her boyfriend happens to be over, he seems cool enough, but she seems a lot more soft spoken, mousy, and unsure of herself than over the phone or email. Hrm. We chat for a bit, it goes pretty well, I give the standard "I've got a couple more places to look at, I'll call you in a day or two" schpiel, and go along my way. It's a decent place, a typical bed-and-bath in a typical house-in-the-burbs - a bit out of my way (probably 15 miles towards a part of town I never frequent; closer to D if I were still seeing her, but alas) but not a bad place to fall back on, as she's a bit of a workaholic, goes out of town some weekends, and spends a couple nights a week at the boyfriend's.

Next up, I have arrangements to meet the next girl, who effectively lives across the street and a jog down the block. This listing had photos, and the place looked pretty cool, I'm enthusiastic about this place, but the girl is closer to my age, and sounds kind of overly responsible over the phone and email, voicing concern with regards to my employment status. Hrm, can't imagine why anyone would be worried about that! ;) Turns out she's an elementary school teacher, and kind of reminds me of the wife of a friend of mine...not a great sign. The house shows even better than the last place, but this is also the highest rent of the several listing I'm considering. Hrm...maybe as a last last resort, and if I happen across that steamer trunk full of cash that I'm always hoping for. Give her the closing buy-some-time line, and move on.

During the assembly of those appointments, there was another ad that was suspiciously bereft of gender-specific pronouns. For some reason, I took this to mean that it was a chick, but I had no real reason to think that. As I exchange emails with this person, they sign off with their initials. OK, that seals it for me, it's a chick with a slightly overzealous security ethic, no problem. They're talking to someone already, but will let me know if it falls through. So the day after, I get the email that it has, in fact fallen through, it's short notice, but would I like to meet up and see the place? Arrangements are made, I see the place, and it's pretty cool. It's a guy, though, but he seems normal enough. Townhouse is a little on the smallish side, but it's nice, with an attached bath (one of my "overnight guests" pointed out that that's a particularly good thing to look for if one likes to entertain "overnight guests". Cool. I think this place is going to be it: the location's good, guy's normal, place is decent. I let him know that I like the place, but I do still ahve a couple more places to look at, will be in touch with him over the weekend. This was on Friday. No problem, the guy says, he'll be out of town, but still in touch.

I'd pretty much decided on taking that last place, and in making arrangements with my old roommate, indicated that i thought I could be out by the 11th, to allow her time to steam the carpets and such if she wanted, paint, whatever. Come to find out the guy is out of town for the whole week, and can't even meet with me again until the 12th, much less make arrangements so I can be moved in by then. Lovely. In the meantime, second girl has emailed me and is getting antsy...I think I saw her place on Tuesday? Wednesday at the latest. So I email her that thanks, I should be OK, and she can in fact let the other guy looking at the place have it. Cool. Also on Saturday, first girl emails me and says that hey, after long hard though, she's decided to go with someone else too. Great, no problem. Now that I've seen a place with a better location, I'm loathe to drive 15 miles out of my way twice a day, every day, anyway. So back to Craigslist, where I see I think three more listings of interest. Two (one of which is included in my three of interest) seem to have verbiage implying that the person is gay. No problem, that should at least make for an interesting showing. I also see that girl #1 has relisted her exact same ad! WTF! Talk about weird chicks with an inability to say what's on their minds! Did I come across as psycho? Too slackerly? Not employed enough? I guess we'll never know. I'm a big boy, I can take the rejection, I assure you!

I hear back from two of the three latest listings, and have arrangements to see them..was it Saturday? Or Sunday? I want to say Saturday. First place is the potentially gay guy. I meet him at the place, it's a 1700SF townhome that looks utterly decrepit from the outside, but the interior is fabulously gay chic. And there's a rottweiler. He's friendly enough, but a slobber machine. While he's showing me the place (the guy, not the rott), all of a sudden, here's this other guy out of nowhere. Now the first guy, when I met him, I thought, oh, OK this guy isn't gay, he's just soft-spoken. he's mildly latino looking, shaved head with a mustache and goatee. This new guy, however, fully gay. A bit older, and not swishy, but kinda butch flamboyant, if that makes sense. The place is a 3BR 2.5BA, and it turns out the second guy is not moving out for 2 more months, May 01. Til then, the new renter would take the third bedroom, share the second bath, and pay 1/3 rent until second guy leaves, then go to 1/2 rent, and get both BRs and the second bath. I end up chatting with the guys for a while, they're both pretty funny, and one was also from Chicago, while the second guy had live in Chi for a number of years, so we got along pretty well. I could live here in a pinch, but the sharing of the bath thing is a deal breaker for me. Again, good place to fall back on in case whatever my first choice is doesn't work out.

Finally, this last one kinda sounded too good to be true...who knows, the guy could still turn out to be an axe murderer, who knows. He's a 26 year old builder named Seth, and he's got a 2400 square foot house on a country club / golf course about 5 miles from my old place. It's the cheapest rent of all the places I've looked at, and the location is fairly convenient, movewise, but a little off the beaten path compared to where I was before. His old roommate is moving out to live with his girlfriend, to which we both snicker a little, kinda "what's he thinking?" The area is very nice, very convenient, on a block of say 250-400K homes. He bought the house as a fixer-upper, and is working on parts gradually. I'm handy, but need to learn how to do a lot of this stuff, so I offer to help in exchange for the learning and experience. He's also got a 3 year old pale yellow lab named Bailey. Bailey's very happy to meet me and we're fast friends. We shoot the shit a bit more about this and that, everything seems cool, so we seal the deal on a handshake, gotta love the south...I'll start moving in whenever I can, do it gradually over the week, and shoot to be completely moved by Friday.

It reminds me of the old adage, "Why is it that whatever you're looking for is always in the last place you look?" Well of course, once you find it, you stop looking. I'm fairly excited about the potential here, it's definitely a lot more "overnight guest" friendly. Not that my old place wasn't, but the situation made things somewhat awkward. With this place set up as kind of a bachelor pad, who knows...perhaps when he goes to the Greek Isles in May, it'll be Gene's naked house party time, haha.

Photos soon. For now, I must sleep...much screwing around to be done on the morrow.

Travel planning...

2006-03-08T23:58:00.000-05:00

Now playing: Thievery Corporation - Lebanese Blonde

DC bound!...? Well, maybe...My beloved Laura tells me that she'll be stateside for several days toward the end of the month:

Hello!

Always so good to hear from you, always apologetic for my inability to
properly stay in touch!

I arrive in DC Monday 27 March at 14:10.
I depart DC Thurs 30 March at 11:20.

My days will be busy with work, but my evenings are wide open.

I have a favourite bar/cafe that used to have a fabulous mojito happy
hour (have to check if that's still in place) and there's a legendary
chili dog place that I'm determined to visit. Voila.

I would love to see you (understatement).

Thoughts?

Laura

So naturally, I'm trying to figure out the logistics of heading out there for a visit to spend some long-overdue time with her. Three evenings and a morning would be dreamy! Last time I saw her, was of course, during my last (and first) trip to the EU in December of 2004...is that right? 2004? 2003? Maybe 2003. Laura? I guess I could look it up pretty easily...I want to say 2003 though.

"...Evenings are wide open." between that verbiage, the chili dogs and the mojitos, what's not to love about this girl? And I haven't even mentioned the haunting beauty, the cosmopolitan worldliness, or the "Iowa goodness"! !

Well, regardless, the timing for this trip seems fortuitous, so here's to hoping. Will have to stop in at the 18th Street Lounge (which is, of course, owned by the band Thievery Corporation and the name of their record label, aren't I cool?) to see if that Romanian guy (and his cute swedish blonde girlfriend) is still bartending, and that other bar...hrm, can't even really remember where it was or what it was called. Lucky I'm kind of lukewarm on the whole prospect of DC itself, so we can hit Laura's old haunts...mojitos for everyone!

As an aside, here's a 'review' of the aforementioned ESL. Verbiage of the review follows, but the last (and first) time I was there, it was during the middle of the week, and nowhere near as happening as is described (nor were there any bouncers...but the lack of identification definitely gave it a chic townies / insiders-only feel):

Teddy Roosevelt once lived in this magnificent historic mansion on 18th Street, part of the coveted Dupont Circle district. These days it's an ultra-classy lounge-club that‚ so chic it doesn't advertise and hardly has it's name above the door. Regulars are big-name politicos, celebrity locals and upscale out-of-towners who continue the high-brow standards set by the former Prez. Known as ESL, bouncers stand guard outside and it's best to leave your jeans and trainers at home if you want a sniff at getting in. Spread over two floors with a stairwell between, gorgeous girls in Prada, Dolce and Versace lie back on couches sipping negronis, watching dashing men in Armani smoke imported cigars over iced bourbon. DJs spin hot urban tunes, those with the urge to boogie take to the dance floor and the general Sex and the City-meets-West Wing vibe sends out a rather powerful and seductive energy.

Also, Daisy (and Mr. Daisy, for that matter) have just returned from a tropical cruise...that idea sounds nice, I'll have to get the lowdown, find a travel buddy, and try one of those myself...must get info from the Daisy(s).

Someone wish me "Bon voyage", goddamnit!

Ciao...[/swoon]

Catches 23 and up...

2006-03-07T14:50:00.000-05:00

I've been trying to write more frequently, with the caveat that such frequency will probably diminish the average length (and perhaps erode the already low quality standards) of these posts, which is of course, just fine if I'm posting more as a result. For a little while I'd just as soon have quantity over quality, because part of the problem with writing of late has been that these entries get so goddamned long from my desire to include every aspect of every position of every angle of the issue I'm talking about, thus making the entries both unwieldy to write, and a general pain in the ass to read. A general lack of time, and/or my continued piss-poor time management skills has led me to continuously put off writing posts, so the longer I don't write, the more complete I feel the posts need to be when I DO write, and thus, the cycle continues.

This week in particular, I should be doing about a half dozen other things as well: moving, getting my real estate broker's application in the mail, taxes, etc. Then, on top of all that, I think I'm coming down with something. At first, I thought it was just overexertion from loading the truck up with boxes yesterday, but now I definitely think it's a cold/the flu. Suck. Big party weekend, too. Ah well, perhaps a nap is in order. More soon, send vitamin C, zinc, and/or good non-sick vibes.

Asian fetishes...

2006-03-06T04:04:00.000-05:00

Now Playing: FischerSpooner - Emerge

So one of the things I've always kind of ranted about, given half an opportunity, (hell, I may have done it here already...i't sbeen so long, that I forget what I have and haven't written about) is the apparent sexual disparity in the fetishization (I don't think that's actually a word, but I'm going to continue to use it and trust you to both get my drift and keep up) of Asian women vs Asian men. Men of all ethnicites, ages, or any other demographic selector you care to use, fetishize Asian women. Further, I find that the universality of this fetish is so far-reaching, that Asian women are perhaps the most fetishized class of all. Probably more so than any other race, redheads (which I never really got, but yet I seem to end up dating a lot of redheads, go figure) and schoolgirls, for example, but probably not strippers or porn stars, which might not really be demographic selectors at all. I might have made that term up too. Not necessarily every guy wants/lusts after the idea of Asian women, but guys from any and every group invariably do. Whereas there is no correspondent widespread "mob lust", if you will, of Asian men. I've always challenged anyone to come up with even one Asian guy in mainstream american pornography. Seriously, even one. Can't be done? That's because there haven't been any. Period. (As far as I know, but I've yet to be proven wrong.)

What brings this topic to the forefront for me today, is the chance "meeting" of a girl last night. In talking to a dear friend today, it was determined that I had had this particular girl pointed out to me before, (several weeks ago) and not only did I apparently show no interest toward her then, but I seem to have no recollection of her even having been pointed out. Part of this could have been due to a prejudicial (and possibly erroneous) mindset associating her with a somewhat superficial crowd, perhaps more interested in seeing and being seen, than seeking out and/or valuing and pursuing real, deeper connections with people. Well, I officially "met" her last night, under some odd circumstances that I won't get into here, but I definitely at the time didn't know about/remember the earlier encounter.

She's a stunning blonde, with people apparently telling her she resembles celebrities from Gwen Stefani to a blonde Dita von Teese. Almost as if to illustrate the point this guy came up and told her she looked like someone while we were talking, who I totally didn't see the resemblance at all, but it escapes me exactly who it was at the moment. Said blonde is apparently a glamour model who does various types of work to that effect. She and I learned that we have some things in common, so that led to more talk on more and more random topics. Come to find out she's been to and spent a good deal of time in Korea, speaks some Korean, and when I told her that she's only the second blond white girl I've met who speaks Korean, she came out to me a little and admitted to having a bit of a 'thing' for Asian guys ("Score!", I vaguely remember thinking.) But you would think that all that time over there would/could produce AT LEAST ONE suitable suitor? Go figure. Well, far be it from me to question a set of circumstances that, in the end, benefits me.

Having said all that, however, I do have to say that for there not actually being parity in the objectification and associated desirability and/or fetishization of men vs. women of Asian heritage (I always have to remind myself to capitalize that A,) I have to say that I've probably had way more than my fair share of women who range from a mild curiosity to an out-and-out fetish. I definitely know of a few Asian guys in their twenties who are allegedly either virgins or near-virgins, and being Asian hasn't helped them any AT ALL, so in that regard, I've been very fortunate, and can only hope that I helped promote a positive image of Asian sexual prowess. Or something, heh. To be fair, I have also completely been unable to close the deal with at least one girl with an established and self-described Asian fetish, and one (Ames Esq., I'm looking in your direction) with an apparent, but undeclared/unidentified (closeted?) Asian fetish.

Of the ones where I WAS able to close the deal, an area of discussion of note is that I've been the first ever Asian guy for a good number of women, perhaps as high as 20-30 percent of the women I've been with? (Not that I know that number or even have an estimation, that's just a seat-of-the-pants guess.) Though if you were to restate that question in such a way as to ask how many of the women I've been with have been with, say more than 5 or 6 Asian guys before me, that number would probably be much, much smaller, in the neighborhood of well under ten percent. Interesting statistics, no? Either way, being beheld as a representation of one's entire race (wrong as it may be, people do it all the time for far lesser considerations) can be a bit daunting, especially in the rare case where it IS seen as something desirable, and is a causal factor in getting us horizontal in the first place.

I'm sure I'll have more on this later, but it's 4am, and I need sleep.

Oh, and incidentally, for those interested, things went well with the blonde, yay. Hope things go more well in the future, we'll see how that all unfolds. I also met a half-Japanese girl who claims to have been in Penthouse (September 2004 maybe?) Suffice it to say, it was an interesting (and surreal at the same time) evening.

Life is good. And by good, I mean charmed.

More soon,

-Gene

A show about nothing...

2006-03-04T03:53:00.000-05:00

Now Playing: Ferry Corsten featuring Simon LeBon - Fire

Yikes, six weeks.

Okay, I've told about a billion and a half people that I want to start blogging on a daily (or at least more daily, perhaps semi-daily) basis again, even going so far as to post to a forum to which I belong, signing off with "OK, gonna try to blog now."

So needless to say, the pressure's on. One would think that I'd have an endless number of things to write about, what with not having posted in a month and a half (completely bypassed February! Haven't missed a whole month since September, tsk tsk), and that's true, to an extent. Problem is, if I were to completely update any one aspect of my life, that topic in and of itself would probably demand a multi-page post all on its own. So in a way, I'm paralyzed by the breadth and depth of subject matter.

So the forum post was made like three and a half hours ago. What's the holdup, you ask? What hasn't the holdup been? I should have gone to bed around midnight, probably. Instead, I made some phone calls, sat around, antsy as hell, but with no inclination to partake in any of the options I had available. Ah ennui is such a fickle mistress! Played some Wordsmith (a scrabble derivative/spinoff available on the TiVo service), downloaded like every Duran Duran song known to man in search of one in particular.

I downloaded the tune mentioned above, Fire, by Ferry Corsten, a DJ whose work I'm fond of, a couple weeks ago. I originally heard it on Music Choice's Dance or Electronica station, and it said that it featured Simpn LeBon. Since Ames is possibly the second biggest Duran Duran fan on the face of the planet (her hot sister M is likely the first,) I sent it to her to get her take on it. She tells me that it's basically an unmolested version of Serious, a song they'd previously released. And here I thought it was just Simon doing a guest vocalist spot on an original Corsten composition. Well, it turns out that she's mostly right, but I still like the new version better. The tempo is more appropriate for the song, and overall it just pleases my ear more to have it get the dance treatment. So while I was at it, I pulled down all the poppy 80s stuff I could think of that they did. Fun stuff.

Hrm, that's a few paragraphs, maybe enough to actually call a post? Right on, definitely! And all without having had to procure an actual substantial topic!

We'll see if I've the drive to write tomorrow, but I wouldn't hold my breath.

Welcome back,

-Gene

...and oh yeah...for all those who have stuck with this craptacular blog through the six months of nonexistent posts, here's a reward in the form of some beloved T & A. It appears that my prayers to the FSM have been answered, and one of my favorite hotties' career has taken enough of a nosedive that she's finally appeared in Playboy. I heard about it because it's in this month's (February) issue, with Jessica Alba on the cover.

Link here

Article 2

Smoking Gun article, containing the lengthy cease-and-desist order to Playboy.

Apparently she's less than thrilled about it, because she didn't actually pose for the magazine, doesn't appear nude in it, and has threatened to sue the Hefner empire for using her unauthorized image to mislead consumers and sell magazines. For shame, Hugh! I'm not sure if they've done this before, but goddamnit, if I see Jessica Alba on the cover, I want to see her naked inside! Anyway, it appears that she's suing for damages and for them to withdraw the magazine. Wonder what'll happen. Regardless, as I'm looking at the cover, I notice the last line of text, I notice the words "UFC" and "Willa Ford". Jackpot! Loyal readers will remember that I've had a thing for her for like five years, ever since "I Wanna Be Bad" was a minor, minor hit and had MTV rotation. Well, here it is, boys and girls, Willa Ford naked. Enjoy, I know I did.

Friday the thirteenth...

2006-01-13T05:28:00.000-05:00

...and yet I'm feeling lucky...go figure.

Now playing: The Nails - 88 Lines About 44 Women (ah, shuffle play is so ironic at times!)

So another new year is upon us. Knock wood, I've not written '05 on anything yet, but I think so far I've had to write the date all of twice since the new year, and neither time was on anything more legally critical than a CD I was burning.

So what's happened in the first two weeks of what is sure to be and already shaping up to be the best year of my life? (Though MMV will be tough to top, by any number of metrics...) Where to begin? Let's have a go at it:

The one year anniversary of the humblest of beginnings of this blog have come and gone with nary a commemorative effort on my part, for shame!

A wondrous New Year's celebration has also come and gone, perhaps I'll regale with stories of flashed breasts and sparkling bubbly...

My beloved (and by beloved, I mean, of course, maddeningly hot and continuously lusted after) Ms. Daisy, who has been talking about maybe possibly sortakinda perhaps blogging as a way to get back into her english major writing roots, finally did just that! Show her some love here, since I'm always trying to get into her very deliciously close-fitting pants. (She wears the cutest panties! Pant!) I can't emphasize this enough, I love this girl to death, and she's exceptionally witty and insightful...this should be something very worthwhile to follow, I'm flush with anticipation! (The blog should be good too.) Maybe I'll even get a mention here and there! Oooooh! (I'm such an attention whore, I bristle at the mere prospect of random internet pseudonotoriety.)

In other news, I believe I've recently found a "New Best Friend" (of the "with benefits" variety), to accompany my former NBF who is now upgraded to simply "Best Friend" (hopefully forever, but without the gayness associated with the BFF term), and to somewhat replace Former Best Friend, whose eventual return I'm still holding out hope for (she's still in contact via occasional and sporadic IM) Hi D! :* Convoluted? Sure. Circular? Possibly. About the speed of my life lately? Definitely. Since my last impromptu assessment of love life/action : time available ratio, I'd landed on the near-arbitrary magic number of 3-5 (I know, I know, that's more a range than a number) as the theoretically ideal number of solid booty call-type arrangements that a typically horny guy need have to be happy-slash-occupied enough to not really need some of the more comforting aspects of a standard relationship. (In the form of regular dates, sex, comforting hugs/kisses/oral sex, etc.) (It's a bit of a work-in-progress, bear with me; I'm hoping that it will all come into focus, or at least becomes more clear, before I can write my eventual millions-generating self-help book.)

Back to the NBF story: I met J on a cold (for Charlotte) night in December, the 17th I believe. She's a friend of another J, coincidentally enough, (yeah, same name, it's all very confusing, try to keep up) who introduced us at the club. Naturally, I noticed her right away, as she's a gorgeous, bubbly, statuesque (5'10") redhead, very personable and inherently likable (though admittedly, I may be biased now). That first night, we chatted the tiniest little bit, and I definitely felt an attraction and immediate feeling of familiarity, but not so much as to be enough to get a feel for or gauge her interest. I sort of lost track of her for the rest of the evening, except for a brief encounter later that was all too fleeting. The next morning, she'd sent me a very polite and succinct e-mail letting me know that it was nice meeting me. I replied with an enthusiastic reciprocation of her thoughts, and asked a few questions that I thought might engage her in some correspondence. She replied, with what I thought was general friendliness, but not anything more than that, and an invitation to keep in touch, but no real engagement or what I could see as clear interest. (though she later says that even this is not like her, and I should have known by then that she was "interested", as she not one to (and doesn't) pursue men.) Hrm. Okay. no exchanges with her for some time, (about 11 days after) start to wonder if maybe there's a more effective way to be working my limited charms, when as luck and fate would have it, I have a chance encounter with her online the Wednesday before New Year's. I run into this girl in chat (that I used to frequent a bit, but haven't in about a year, and had let my paid membership lapse) who seems familiar, but only vaguely so. Through a little bit of luck and my recollection of her from a couple weeks prior, and a tiny thumbnail photo, I piece together that this is the J of a week and a half ago. Jackpot! I identify myself to her, she gets me on Yahoo IM, and we start to really get into a meaningful getting-to-know-you chat that ends with my convincing her to go to the club with me in two days, that Friday, New Year's Eve eve.

Our Friday rendezvous goes off even better than I could have hoped or prayed for, despite my keeping her waiting in excess of 90 minutes past my first estimate of meeting time. Though those who know me know I'm chronically late, this time I was ready to go very close to the planned departure time, but the delays inherent in mobilizing groups of people kept us off-schedule. Also, thanks to General Motors and S, my increasingly frequent co-conspirator, for procuring the 24-hour "free rental" of the pimpy party barge for that night's festivities. I'm not kidding, this thing was literally appointed with 18" chrome wheels, gold-on-white (and we of course know from pimp school that green's for the money, and gold's for the honeys) paint job, 30-inch LCD TV and requisite DVD (read: porn) playback, strategically-paced indirect accent/mood lighting, and rear seat that motored down into a near-queen size bed at the touch of a button. Now where were these $50K conversion vans when I was in high school?! This thing had all the right divots in the "bed" surface for one's knees, center row captain's chairs for one to push one's feet off against in conjunction with said knee divots, wood strips on the header for the other someone's feet, and room in the high-top for first someone's head/arms. Not that anyone in particular christened the van, but if anyone from the dealership is reading, we're really sorry for any astroglide stains (and/or any residual "organic matter") that may have escaped our hurried morning-after once-over...

Anyway, to make a long story slightly less long, two dates later, (first date goes off swimmingly, second even better than the first) and I'm fully immersed in a textbook schoolboy's crush on this girl. What's even more surprising is that things seem to be at least partially reciprocal. Amazing! What happened?! Time will tell, wish me luck, we'll see how it goes. I've high hopes for this to be a great arrangement/friendship/relationship/coupling/whatever, let's see if I can't keep from thoroughly fucking it up for a while, yes?

And oh yeah, she physically reminds me of Amy (Esq.) in Chicago. Weird!

Well, it appears that I have my first blog detractor, in the form of a dissenting opinion in the comments of last month's post (that sounds so sad, "last month's post",) the one about twins/sisters/mothers/daughters. It appears that A, the married, allegedly bored housewife older of the sisters from my dating past, has weighed in with an objection or two of my accounting of past events. In the name of justice and interesting (if not slightly dirty-laundry-y juicy) blogfodder, I'd like to invite Mrs. A to tell her side of the story, and either e-mail it to me, or tell it in comment form here. I'll pledge to copy it to the main page here in an unedited, fully attributed quote, and we'll all have an intelligent and mature discourse on the matter. I certainly feel that I've nothing to hide, and welcome the potentially scandal-clad (sorry, I don't mean scantily-clad there, but here's a mention for the search engines) discussion/debate on the matter, what better forum than on the internet, in a semi-anonymous setting? Fabulous! While we're at it, any other former dates/lovers/fuckbuddies/girlfriends/stalkees may also feel free to chime in, the more the merrier! On this or any other topic, what the hell! Let's really show the folks who threw the Salem Witch Hunts and the Spanish Inquisition that they were on the right track, and if only they'd turned it up a notch or two (but it goes to eleven), that they too, could have had justice. (Or something to that effect.)

Now Playing: T-Pain featuring Mike Jones - I'm In Love With A Stripper

Ms. P, the dancer I was seeing during most of Q4 last year, seems to have come and gone. It was a pretty good run with easily the most bizarre fizzling of a relationship I've experienced in a while. (Though, again, many aspects of 2005 will be tough to beat in that regard.) Mike, one of the other DJs at the club could not see us there and not play the above song and point/nod at me. Good guy that Mike, heh...Basically, P and I been hanging out a bit here and there for a couple months or so, with mostly good results, she really did almost make it to the persistent friend status I talked about earlier, (after all, she did introduce me to the very cute bi-but-seeming-in-denial lesbians who seemed to enjoy making out with me) but was ultimate a small-doses kind of girl. When she heard about the open-bar Christmas party her employer (the guy/company who owns basically every strip club in town) was having, she immediately called me and made a big productionof askimg me if I'd go with her. Open bar and strippers? I'd be a fool not to! Hell, now that you've told me about it, try and stop me from being there! Drunken stripper threeways! Jackpot!

So as bad as it sounds, I kind of looked forward to the drunken stripper Christmas party, and thought that I needed to at least stay in the picture through the middle of December. Well, the week prior, she was in finals, and I was in the last week of my real estate licensure course (which I passed, thankyouverymuch), so I didn't call her, in the hopes that we'd both actually study/work and do well and get our other commitments out of the way, then party it up after. Apparently, she didn't see it that way, and was a little upset that I hadn't called. We'd also at some point talked about going to the New Year's party together. When we didn't go to the drunken stripper Christmas party, I just naturally assumed that was that. Well, New Year's Eve comes rolling around, and I get a weird voicemail message from her about the party. I sort of blow the message off (shitty, I know, but I wasn't looking to do anything but party that night.) Later in the night, I hear from other people that she was at the party, but with over 1000 people in attendance, I somehow (and without specifically trying), I managed to miss her altogether. Karma is a funny thing. Haven't heard word one from her since, so I can only assume that that thing has run it's course.

Crap, is it 6am already? Well, more updates soon, I hope, and possibly even an '05 highlight reel. We'll see what my existing muse, new muse, and new foil can inspire in me (yet leave me with time to write!)

In the words of my English-challenged ancestry, (Anglicized for your convenience!) and from the beautiful, but very foggy shores of Lake Norman, "Gong Xi Fa Chai!" ("Happiness and Wealth", a traditional New Year's exclamation/greeting/wish.) I'll probably try to recycle that one in a few weeks for the lunar/Chinese New Year festivities.

Sorry for the painful length of this post, I guess it got away from me...I could always play it off as me attempting to make up for a month of inactivity...

-Gene

...and twiiiiins...

2005-12-14T23:36:00.000-05:00

Now playing: Dance Hall Crashers - Cat Fight

I've got a test that I should be studying for (more on that later) and an assload of reading I should be doing, so today's entry will not be an original work, per se, but I DID write it, just not for the express purpose of posting here. The following appeared on one of the online forums I read:

< quote >

I'm a guy, I'm hot for twins, sisters, and if I am honest, and particularly perverted at the time, I could go for the mother daughter thing... and before you say eewwwwww gross, let my just say one thing. Goldie Hawn - Kate Hudson. I rest my case.

But, I was asked the other day by a female friend what it was about sisters, or more broadly interpreted, what is it about the family connection that makes guys go goofy? (Or more goofy than normal.) And I really didn't have an answer. Twins are easy, just look at back issues of Playboy, where most red blooded horny teenage guys got their type set. Why do you think those Doublemint gum commercials were so popular? It sure wasn't the gum!

Maybe it’s because they are “almost” twins or maybe guys are just dogs, oh wait, we already know that’s true… Its taboo, always a strong motivator, or we’re just programmed that way, probably from subliminal messages broadcast during Captain Kangaroo.

Guys, Gals…. Anyone got a view to share? I’m looking for a little clarity about a topic that has absolutely no redeeming social qualities, but it might get me laid.

< /quote >

Naturally, I felt compelled to post a response with my limited experiences and impressions on the matter, so enjoy. (Loyal and longe-time readers might recognize a situation contained therein.)

< quote >

Hrm, let's see...back when I was in college, say 1991ish? I was probably around 19. I dated a girl a year older than me (we'll call her A), and we were together for almost a year (nine months generally seemed to be the magic number back then), then I think almost a year after we broke up, I was with her younger sister, who I think was 17 or 18 at the time, and we'll call E. I think it came about through an innocent discussion of the fact that she came clean about always having had a crush on me at the time I dated her sister (this is probably the best "in" I can think of), and how she wanted her first time to be with someone she trusted, etc. etc. etc. To make a long story a little less long, we consummated the relationship that day, as I recall, and then sort of dated for a few months until I moved out of town for work. Pity. I just recently reconnected (via IM and e-mail, alas) with the older sister, who now lives in Vegas and seems like she's kind of got the bored housewife thing going on. We talked about it briefly, and only then did I hear that she suspected it some time later, but didn't have it confirmed until E slipped and said something, and she confronted her about it. Apparently, there were no regrets or hard feelings on anyone's part, and no one came after me with a hatchet or power tools.

How does the saying go? "I've always wanted twins, but sisters will do." Works for me. What is it about them? Who knows, it could be the taboo aspects, the challenge, the fact that it probably drives people nuts, any number of possible factors could contribute.

In a related (no pun) story, I met a woman here in Charlotte about a year and a half ago, who was(is) four years older than me. We had a phenomenal occasional relationship (read: she had a boyfriend who only let her out to play once in a while) that lasted until a couple/few months ago. Turns out she's got a daughter who just turned 18 and started college out of town this year. She always seemed to like me and we had a great time the few times we hung out. We'd call and text each other incessantly, but nothing's ever happened with her, (although we DID all fall asleep in the same double bed once, that was kinda fun, but is a story for another day.) I'd be lying if I said that the thought hadn't crossed my mind more than a time or two, though! If you're reading this, D, I'm sorry you had to hear it this way, but you had to know that as a guy, the thoughts were really inevitable! We've kept in touch here and there, but her going away for school has pretty much killed that notion, though she's thinking about coming back to go to UNCC...here's to hoping, developments as they occur!

Best of luck...as someone who's been there with the sister thing ("twins" are still open!) and was almost there with the mother/daughter thing, I have to say that provided that there are no huge repercussions (shotguns and the like), it was well worth it! Granted, neither was at the same time, but I think that threeways are one thing, sisters and/or mothers/daughters are another, but incestuous anything is a pretty distinct line, and we're all probably better off if the ne'er the twain did meet.

Good luck, and don't go wrecking any homes,

-Gene

< /quote >

That'll do it for today...who knows, I may even have some time to post a proper entry next week. Don't hold your breath though...

Gobble, gobble, motherfucker...

2005-11-27T06:52:00.000-05:00

Again, so much to write about, so little time and energy...

The quick and interesting anecdote I'd like to share today actually happened today, only I forgot to tell anyone afterwards, because by then I was too busy being distracted by young, nubile lesbians.

I was making a very quick, time-crunched stop to pick up some social lubricant for the evening's endeavours, PBR (the girls requested the brand, gotta love the cheap dates). In the checkout line, I asked for my change (something like eight bucks) back in singles. When the cashier kinda looked at me funny, I nonchalantly replied that I needed them for tipping later in the night. She gave me a somewhat knowing look, and said "OK, well you have FUN tonight." It took me a moment to catch up with the innuendo, and I replied back, "A case of beer, strippers, and hot young lesbians...how much more fun could it possibly be?" Then, when I notice that the girl behind me in line is a somewhat masculinely-dressed woman with a bottle of wine and a very short haircut, I immediately realized that my remark could potentially be slightly offensive, so I shot her an inclusive wink, and added "am I right?" She exclaims that she probably needs to come to my party instead, and I say the only thing I can say in that situation, "Sure, the more the merrier!" The cashier just sort of shakes her head as if to say, "Is it quitting time yet? And why have my last 12 customers all only had some kind of alcohol comprising the entirety of their purchases?" (perhaps not in those exact words...) Wine girl behind me changes the subject with a "Don't you just LOVE his voice?", and I take the opportunity to do my obligatory goodbye wave and invite everyone to have a fabulous rest of their weekends, and make my escape, beer in hand...

Not a terribly interesting and/or funny story, but not a bad pointless anecdote.

Things to maybe write about this week: (Comment on things y'all would like to read about, maybe that'll motivate me)

-What happened the rest of the night (duh!) ;)
-Home mushroom farming.
-Tryptophan-laden turkeys, miscellaneous TDay prep, and high stripper ratio TDay dinners.
-Stripper christmas parties and how to not get kicked out of them.
-DJing at the club, turnout on a holiday weekend, and workplace drama in a leisuretime establishment/industry.
-Weird phone calls/voicemail messages from the mothers of chicks I've slept with, who then disappear, about the possible whereabouts of their daughter. (Trust me, the story there isn't any less bizarre than that brief description sounded.)
-How I might better continue hitting on the hottie in Real Estate class
-Trackback and other statistical points of interest from various free providers. More specifically, how people are finding this site. (I may write about this one anyway, since I find it exceptionally interesting.)

The days are just PACKED...

2005-11-16T04:38:00.000-05:00

Tune of the week (month?!): Keo Nozari - Close Enough (Noel Sanger remix)

OK, let's see now...how many months has it been since the last update? Ah, okay...only 35 days...I'm improving. So much has happened, yet so little to tell. Here are but a few things that I've been thinking about writing about, but haven't had the time/motivation/inclination/whatever, that may or may not be covered at a later date:

-Selling of the childhood homestead
-Packing up/throwing out of 21+ years accumulation
-The chain of events set off by above-captioned items, and the requisite steps to facilitate said items
-Missed opportunity to have drinks with Alan
-Halloween update and/or photos
-"Back to work" in past post wasn't an allusion to an actual job job, but some freelance writing work I was doing at the time

Monday's events are of some note, as I started a real estate licensure class, on the path to becoming a real estate broker. This is both a quasi-capitulation to those so graciously informing me that I really need to be a productive member of society, and for me, the first step in my recently-determined eventual goal of real estate mogul/land baron status. Thing is, I've been talking about it for months, and only last week did I finally take the plunge and actually signed up for a class, paid the tuition, and took the requisite steps to secure a seat in this class. The downside is that it's a 70-hour class, and these hours aren't necessarily my normal awake/functional times. So on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays for the next five weeks, I'll be sitting in a conference/meeting room at the Hilton Garden Inn in Pineville, NC from 9am to 4pm learning about the intricacies of real estate practice in North Carolina.

The only saving grace, was that when I showed up Monday morning, I noticed that there was a hottie in the parking lot, also approaching the hotel entrance. We both make our way to the front desk, where the clerk asks if we're here for the real estate program, and directs us down the hall to the right. We make eye contact and smile at one another, proceeding down the hall and to the right. He did say to the right didn't he? All that's down that way are broom closets and more rooms. I joke about not being able to follow directions and how we're already off to a bad start, she laughs, and we make some small talk. Upon heading down the hall in the opposite direction and finding the conference room (our OTHER right, apparently), she sits in the middle of the class, and I take my usual back-row slacker's place. The guy in the room taking names and getting things together says that the class will go better if we pair up and sit together, so wouldn't you know it, the cutie gets up, smiles at me and walks back to sit with me. This might not be such an unbearable five weeks, after all.

Over the course of the day, we flirt a bit and remark about the instructor, the class materials and subject matter, and other students. I find out her name, (in my tradition of lettered girls, she'll be "B"...was there a B already? I can't remember...) that she's currently a bartender at a brass-and-fern near my place (score!), and from California within the last couple years. We are unable to have lunch together due to respective errands that demand lunchtime attention, but plan on it in the future. It dawns on me that I absolutely need to sleep with her, and that I have basically 70 hours to do so. It helps that we seem to get along, and that it's a pretty intensive course and subsequent exam, so there will naturally be a ton of study time and opportunity. Will have to get her number and e-mail on Wednesday, and plant the seeds of the benefits of a constant-contact arrangement. Developments as they occur.

Having successfully completed the initial class (with an 80% or better attendance and grade), I'll sit for the state licensing board exam, (provided my criminal background check comes back to their satisfaction,) then another 60-hour class in January, and I should be good to go, as the kids say. Joy.

Background update: about a week ago, P (the stripper college student that I met, oh back in May/June who went back to her BF and basically dropped off the face of the planet for five months) calls me up and leaves me this message, something along the lines of "Hey, what's going on, just calling to see what's up and if you want to swing by and F me later...okay, talk to you soon." Only the middle part went by pretty quickly and was kinda garbled, so I had to listen to it multiple times to be certain of what I was hearing. (She'd called a couple weeks before Halloween, but I later found out that she was back with the ex again...apparently I missed the boat when I didn't call her back in a couple days, and she got antsy.) Sure enough though, this time it was a definite booty call, and so to make a long story less long, we got together, played, and hung out basically all weekend. Hang out most of the day on Friday, club Friday night, piddle around Saturday day, she works Saturday night, club again after that, Sunday brunch, many mimosas, mall wandering, peppered with nakedness and making out. Yay, I'm in with the stripper.

After class on Monday, I stopped off at Wal-Mart to pick up the business calculator (HP 10BII) needed for the class and test. While I was there, P calls, and talks to me rather cryptically...what am I doing, could I see her, she's being a bad student, etc. weird. Apparently, she's at the corner store, and can't exactly talk freely. I say sure, I'll head over as I leave. about 20-25 minutes later, as I'm walking to my car, calc in hand, she calls again, this time a bit more succinct: "You need to get over here right now. I'm drunk, horny, and there are topless lesbians in my backyard. we're going to have a F-ing contest, and see who makes the most noise." Okay then! Of course, it was about three minutes after five, and rush hour was in full effect. Despite this, however, I manage to make decent time and arrive just before dark. I arrive to find her and her upstairs neighbor, M (24) and girlfriend L (22), the aforementioned lesbians, drunk and playing Clue (yes, the board game.) L, the more nubile and hotter of the two, gets up and greets me with a surprisingly warm hug and kiss (cheek). I think to myself, "that's kind of odd", but go with it.

I met M and L when I was briefly introduced to them last Wednesday, after P and I had just consummated our booty call endeavour. Apparently P had just broken up with her boyfriend on Tuesday, and the lesbians had just seen him Monday. They seemed curious as to who I was, but were pleasant and not much more than that.

So as I'm watching them finish their game of clue, P proceeds to tell me how she's gone ahead and divulged to the lesbians how we met, and that we have a purely physical relationship, how lovely and magnificent my penis is, that I'm a great kisser. (Note to self, there's nothing like having a stripper do you PR, especially when it's so enthusiastically!) L declares that she would absolutely love to see how good a kisser I am, gets up, walks around the table to me, and proceeds to do so, quite enthusiastically. I think, hey, if you're enjoying this as much as your tongue indicates, that really makes you bisexual, and not a full-on lesbian, but I decided that now was not the time to have that discussion, lest the brakes be put on. M seems to enjoy having seen that, and L agrees that I am, in fact a very good kisser, she's thought that I was incredibly hot since we met on Wednesday, and that she almost would consider being straight just to see if the good-in-bed thing that she was hearing was as incredible as represented to her as well. M says that she wants a taste (no pun, I guess) too, and comes around for a sample herself. I may have moaned just a little bit when kissing her, as she proudly exclaims that "I made him moan!". It was nice, but I did enjoy L's time just a bit more. P declares that she is feeling very neglected, so M leans over and kisses her for a good little bit, followed by a turn with L. P calls L a dirty slut, the lesbians giggle and L says "I am, aren't I?", and I think that this is really shaping up to be a good opportunity to get a naked four-way romp in bed going, when sure enough, they all start alluding to just that. While they're finishing their game, more adulatory remarks are directed at me (blush!), flirting attempted, and general silliness exhibited. Unfortunately, they were all subject to a little alcohol-induced ADD, so when the subject of food came up, we dispersed for dinner...M and L, and P and I, to respective destinations.

Upon our return after dinner, I notice that L's car is missing, and figure they must still be at dinner. A few minutes later, P says "Listen! Those sluts are having sex!" I couldn't hear anything over the HVAC, and L's car was gone, so I actually tried to argue with her and say that it couldn't be, their car was gone. She has me turn off the HVAC, and sure enough, you can hear rhythmic bed creaking from above. We decide to get it on as well, and then hilarity ensues. We get naked and start to kiss, but then I can't find the condoms...I'm looking around for them (quite frantically), but P is getting antsy: " Go upstairs and get some!" "But why would THEY have condoms?" "Trust me, they have them!" I was pretty set on trying to find mine (I'm somewhat partial to my brand, and don't really like other ones, unless there's no choice.) This was apparently not the right answer, as she says "Fine, I'LL go get them", and takes off up the outside stairs, completely naked. There's some commotion upstairs, and then she returns with a condom. I'd found mine while she was gone, so we went about the task at hand. Not two minutes after we were finished, there's knocking on the door, and in spill M and L, declaring that "we want to watch!" They see that we're naked, and one of them might have said something like "eww, penis!" They seem disappointed that they've missed the action, and tell us to "Do it again!" I tell them that guys don't have the benefit of being able to go again right away, and that maybe in a few minutes, we could oblige them. Funny stuff. I put a towel on, and we all laugh and cavort while the girls have a smoke. More innuendo, more offers to help reinforce the male cause in the girls' eyes (one guess as to who offered that), and more allusions to a group event at some later time. Alas, not much more was going to happen that night.

So the moral of the story, is that if there's anything to be learned from all this, is that if you start a class with a hottie sitting next to you, that apparently makes you more attractive to lesbians. Or something like that. I need to start writing to Penthouse or something. Unbelievable.

More soon, hopefully.

(Yeah, I know it's after 4:30am, and I have to be up before 8, but I napped for like 5 hours earlier...)

Best. Geeksite. Ever...

2005-10-12T06:58:00.000-04:00

OK, I know it's been roughly sixteen months since I last posted, bad blogger! Bad blogger! We'll see if there's any improvement in the next couple weeks, but I wouldn't hold your collective breath; in the eight weeks since my last post, I'm sure that my readership has diminished back to right around 1: me. Sweet. So basically, this is the unveiling of a wholly new blog, welcome!

OK, it's 6am, and I haven't the presence of mind to write a proper post, let alone bring everyone up to date on all the goings-on of the last 8 weeks, that'll be in a day or two. Only by "day", I mean "month".

For now, here's a geeky-cool site I discovered today:

www.afrotechmods.com

It's a pretty sparse site as far as design, but there are a couple neat conceptual ideas. As for the site itself, I'm big on the whole hack/mod movement that's kind of en vogue these days. This site has some of what could easily be described as the most ghetto of mods, including the following categories: Cheap Mods, Really Cheap Mods, Fuxx0red Mods, and Stupid Mods (for stupid people). You gotta love it, really. If I had even the slightest inkling for Electrical Engineering, I'd try some of these things myself. Except I have no desire to electrocute myself, which is a very real possibility, even with exceptionally low voltages. Really.

Some of the cooler mods include ways to make an inductive charging mousepad for your wireless mouse, how to make a ghetto sound-controlled vibrator out of a discarded CD-ROM drive and a vaccuum-cleaner attachment, and of course, the obligatory how-to turn your perfectly-good article of clothing into a battery-powered heated article. Fun.

Tons of other cool stuff, too. Writing style is humourous and juvenile, and fixates on the hotness of Laura Prepon, but hey, can't argue with that logic.

Oh, and in other news, hottie Asian Kelly finally today (last night, technically) saw the light and agreed that we need to sleep together. (Right after she copped to owning "hundreds of pieces of lingerie"...she DID, after all, work at Victoria's Secret for some time.) Yay! Now all I need to do is go to NYC and/or get her down here for a weekend or two. The plot thickens...

Also, former summer-rebound stripper girlfriend is no longer with her boyfriend and did, in fact call me up to hang out/have sweaty monkeysex. However, since she's a "small doses" kinda girl, I haven't called her back yet. Maybe this weekend...

Dressing up for Halloween for the first time ever this year, not sure yet on costume. So far the front-runner is Colonel Sanders, which is a bit of an inside joke, because many of the crazy women I've been attracting lately seem to have a penchant for fried chicken and hot sauce. Developments on that front as they occur...

Tune of the Day is Jurgen Vries featuring Shena - Wilderness. Chillingly good!

Type at y'all soon, possibly...

I'd vote for him...

2005-08-17T21:57:00.000-04:00

Well, it appears to be an elaborate hoax, but I have to admit to smiling when I heard that Christopher Walken intended to run for president in 2008. After reading this bit of news I followed the link, to www.walken2008.com. It looks serious, but after doing some more research, it unfortunately is apparently a joke site set up by random internet hooligans. One thing's certain though, people love Chris Walken.

I generally try very diligently not to talk about politics, but I think one thing everyone can agree on is that we, as a country, need more cowbell...

An interesting site I stumbled across today is www.ipodsubwaymaps.com. Apparently, if you've got an iPod Photo, you can now use it to navigate various major metropolitan subway systems with these downloadable maps. Damn...now I need to upgrade to a photo and move back to a town with a subway. Alas.

Finally, a musical discovery. I've been listening to iTunes radio over the last couple days, and have found a couple good stations. First, under the "Ambient" category, DI.fm's "Chillout" station offers a good mix of ambient/chillout stuff, good for background noise while working and such. Even better, though, under "Electronic", is DI.fm's Vocal Trance station. Both streams are offered at a max 96K, but for my crappy hearing, they both sounded fine.

One thing I heard on Vocal Trance is a DJ Doboy. Several of his mixes were played, and while he's no Armin van Buuren, it's a good cross-section of stuff. There are several styles of mixes available, and I was able to download several of them via LimeWire and BitTorrent/Pirate Bay.

That's all for today, back to work...

The sun is the same...

2005-08-06T06:54:00.000-04:00

...in the relative way, but you're older...

"Time"

Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
You fritter and waste the hours in an off-hand way
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way
Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain
You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today
And then the one day you find ten years have got behind you
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun
And you run and you run to catch up with the sun, but it's sinking
And racing around to come up behind you again
The sun is the same in the relative way, but you're older
And shorter of breath and one day closer to death
Every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on in quiet desparation is the English way
The time is gone the song is over, thought I'd something more to say

Home, home again
I like to be here when I can
When I come home cold and tired
It's good to warm my bones beside the fire
Far away, across the field, tolling on the iron bell
Calls the faithful to their knees
And hear the softly spoken magic spell

Apt words, Messrs. Mason, Waters, Wright, and Gilmour.

So we're looking at almost exactly 15 hours to the thirty-third anniversary of my birth. not the most momentous of occasions, but meaningful to some nonetheless. I suppose it's a time for introspection (Jen? Didn't I already do that a couple weeks ago? Can we count that?) but not being the introspective type, I suppose the meditation would be lost on me anyway...

Something deeply profound would also be suitably grandiose for the occasion, but again, probably not something I can drum up on cue.

No, this birthday is going to be the best one yet, because it's going to be all about what's important in life. Having fun and enjoying one's time on the planet, spending quality time with loved ones of all qualities and quantities, and generally being even lazier than is my norm (but yet being sure to stay above a vegetative state). It also helps that my friends of the day believe in monthlong birthday celebrations, and I'll be partying with many, many sluts tonight, believe you me...It's going to be an amazing day/night/weekend/month/summer/year/etc...

For those curious, last night's date came and went, but more details will have to wait, as I've yet to inform the next of kin and/or concerned parties...and I'd hate for anyone connected to the outcome to hear anything here as opposed to through me personally, so y'all will just have to bear with me on this...

I will say (and be warned, this may be TMI, but hell, it's early, and I'm feeling declarative:) that on a completely date-unrelated note, I've now officially slept with as many women this year as I have my whole life prior to this year. (I think; just based on my off-the-cuff estimated approximations.) Woohoo. Way to whore around, Gene! This will be but the first of many accomplishments made this year, but possibly the most debased one...

Yeah, definitely toeing that didn't-need-to-say-that line in the sand...oh well, chalk it up to the daylight peeking through my windows...time to post it before I read it and change my mind.

More soon, but if not have a fine weekend, wherever y'all are, and whomever y'all are doing!

Creating wealth...

2005-08-05T03:42:00.000-04:00

...at least on an imaginary basis...

My little experiment on blogshares seems to be going pretty well...when I joined, my user ID was in the 29,000s (29,922 to be exact). I'm fairly certain that there are well over 30K users now. When you sign up there, you're given an imaginary $500 to "invest" in stocks of various blogs. I don't have all the subtle nuances figured out yet, but in a couple weeks of earnest scrutiny and attempts to learn the system, I've managed to increase my imaginary net worth from $500 to just under $25 million. yep, a 5,000,000% increase. My standing for the month as of August 1 was 4209 with a bit under $4 million in net worth (up from 29922 the previous month, and in the first three days, have bumped it up to where it should be right around 2500 or so. By the end of the month, I should be in the ballpark of the top 1000-1500ish. It's interesting in a geeky sort of way, and I'm not sure if it teaches any kind of real-world investment and/or speculation skills, but I know I do wish the actual stock market worked with such predictability...if so, I'd even get over my bad experiences and move back into day trading, then really dig into my planned life of leisure. Alas...

Anyone want to sign on and challenge me/give me a run for my fake money? Heck, we could even do some real-world betting...cash, meals, humiliating acts, sexually gratifying things for the women...the possibilities are limitless! In fact, with enough interest and we could even get a league of sorts going (though I don't realistically expect to be anywhere near that much interest, I _am_ geekier than most at heart)...It might make it more interesting...in fact, if anyone does, let me know what your ID is on there via the comments here, and I'll gift you a million blogshares dollars worth of stock to get you started (Well, let's say $999,500, so you can start out with an even million)...how's that for sweetening the pot? Amy, I'm looking at you here...this is a great chance to rekindle our PimpWar days! (A story for another day, if I haven't already relayed it here.) Anyone? Bueller? Bueller? It's also not a hugely time-consuimg affair, as you're limited to 20 stock transactions per day (they move you to unlimited trades per day as a paying member, ($15/yr), but I find this way to be more challenging; I'm already outperforming people who have paid and played longer.) I'd say I spend no more than 5-10 minutes on it per day actually executing transactions...I'll even help y'all out a little with pointers to start.

In real world/real life news, my musings of a plan to obtain a real estate broker's license are starting to gel into a semblance of an actual plan (as opposed to one of the numerous things I talk about doing for 6-7 months, then take another 18 months to get moving on,) with some findings today, and possible brain-picking of a hottie friend in the business over a late afternoon/early evening date tomorrow. Here's to hoping that I can make a go of it and not have to find a real job...On the other hand, picking of said (hot) friend's brain could also theoretically be while naked...the mind boggles...

T-minus around 42 hours to the big 33... [gulp]

Ethereal hotties...

2005-08-04T23:58:00.000-04:00

Short entry tonight, just a quick note on the astounding number of absolutely gorgeous women on myspace. If your'e not familiar with it, it's like Friendster on crack...although I'm loathe to use the highly overdone cliche "...like ____ on crack..." Though I have yet to really see the true networking potential (whereas I kinda did for Friendster and even Orkut, though I never really spent much time on the latter), as everyone's networks on myspace have gotten to be cartoonishly large, many you'll encounter well into the thousands. Some of the pages resemble the web's early homepage attempts, complete with busy and needlessly annoying animated gifs, poorly and overmodulated sound bites, and bandwidth and processor-intensive videos. Comments have devolved into "hey, you're hot!" and "thanks for the add" one-liners, but who am I to complain, the eye candy's pretty sweet. My own network is right around 150, of which I actually know maybe a dozen people? versus around 35 of 35 on Friendster. Peruse my network here. (Not sure if you need to be registered/signed in to see that, but if you're into that sort of thing, it only takes a couple minutes, once you're registered, add me as a friend, so if you're on there we can offically be friends (how gay does that sound? Sheesh.)

I'd heard about it for some time, but hottie flight attendant Ames was the one to finally get me to sign up, under the guise of needing help coding her page. Clever. Since then, I've been in constant amazement at the sheer number of hotties who have pages there.

Clearing the queue...

2005-08-03T06:36:00.000-04:00

The following has been sitting, largely untouched, in a file on the PowerBook for oh, about three weeks now. The rationale was that while I had a pending post waiting to be completed, I couldn't start and/or post a new entry, for fear of disturbing the delicate balance of the flow that exists within the blog. If you're thinking that that sounds suspiciously akin to a crappy excuse to not write/post more, I'd say that you're pretty astute, and kindly go make your observations elsewhere, thanks.

Read and enjoy, this kind of sets up the poorly-timed photo of July 12th (it's supposed to say CLT-CLE 14:00 on-time, but it didn't even occur to me that those animated/moving LED signs don't photograph well. What can I say? I was trying to catch a plane...

[scene fades out present, fades in three weeks prior...]

So it's decided that I'm overdue for a trip to Chicago...Bah wants to move and sell the farm, and I'm responsible for probably 93 percent of the crap that's there. Seeing as how I have no job and no prospects, I'm loathe to spend a couple hundred bucks on airfare, or the requisite fuel to drive back (which would probably be about the same couple hundred bucks, but would then be a far better idea, as I'd probably need to bring some portion of said junk back with me.)

As it turns out, I still have several open-ended free "counter" tickets obtained from USAir and Continental during my airline/CSA days. One of these tickets is for the CLT-ORD-CLT (in addition to CLT- EWR(Newark, NJ x2) and CLT-LGA) round trip, and I decide to try and cash one in. I say "try", because technically, these tickets are issued only to airline employees as a courtesy, and deigned to be used only while duly employed with that airline. However, that being said, I did have the foresight, while still gainfully employed, to "lose" one entire set of my airline/airport credentials (including one employee parking pass,) thus ensuring that I would ostensibly remain an airline employee at least through August, 2006. One side benefit of this arrangement is, at least in theory...more on that later), that I'll never be flagged for "additional screening", or have to wait in the security queue again.

So Sunday afternoon, I pack not only for a weekend at the resort, but several days in the old hometown.

[Fast forward through Sunday resort shenanigans...]

Sometime Monday afternoon, (basically right as I get up) I decide to try and make the 2:00pm flight to CLE (Cleveland), # 2268, then connect to flight 2247 into ORD. Since the flight wasn't until 2pm, I figure that that should be plenty of time to get up, say goodbye to the hosts and other resort goers, and make my way to the airport and scam my way onto the flight. All well and good, in theory. Due in part to extended goodbyes, I'm not off the resort campus, which is roughly 30 miles north of the airport until 13:01. Fly through traffic, park the car in employee lot "C" (13:31), get on the employee shuttle (13:38), arrive at the terminal (13:41) run down to security checkpoint 3 (or was it C? I forget the naming convention at CDIA), where I make the mistake of showing the guy my badge and open paper ticket with no date, flight number or time (13:43). He tells me I need a boarding pass, and to go to the counter. I go to the counter, tell them I want to try and non-rev on the 2:00pm to Cleveland, and they tell me just to try and go to the gate directly. I tell them I tried that, and the guy said I need a boarding pass. They tell me duh, don't show him your ticket, just tell them you're non-revving, and he's already seen you, so use checkpoint 2 (or "B"). (13:45) Aaaah, K...duh indeed.

I continue on my journey through checkpoint 2/B, where I badge through the "crew" line, and my duffel bag is flagged for additional screening, despite just having badged through. (13:46) Lovely. The guy, as nice as he is, checks my bag very thoroughly, making sure to very openly (and at eye level) examine my mini bag of condoms and lube, the other partial box of condoms in the bag, and just when I think he's got to have checked it all, continues to empty the bag, as if he's looking for something in particular. At this point, the swab has already been cleared by the giant sniffer machine, but he soldiers on. Finally, after I selectively have myself convinced that there's nothing to find in the bag, he pulls out...a pair of handcuffs. Whoops. forgot those were in there. I generally keep them in that bag for convenience's sake, and traveling with them generally isn't a problem. So he makes a big production out of asking every last one of his co-workers whether "...these are OK? I can't remember." Sure you can't buddy, I've done too much customer ridicule/spotlight focus in my own jobs not to know it when I see it. No worries, as long as I make my plane. Once he gets the OK from the supervisor (approximately 736 co-workers later,) I'm cleared to go, and he wishes me a good trip. Right after which, he adds, "...it looks like you're going to." Sure thing buddy, you have yourself a fabulous day.

Right, so where were we? Ah yes, trucking out to gate A12 (the very LAST one, naturally) from the more-distant checkpoint B with around nine minutes to spare. Even with two motorized walkways, it takes around five minutes to hoof it down the concourse. Plane's still there, and the jetway door is open, good signs. I plead my case with the CSA at the podium, and much to my delight, she and her peer have a good chuckle at my antics, telling them that I used to absolutely loathe people like me, showing up in the last moments prior to departure, with no documentation and exorbitant needs/demands. They assured me that it was alright, they'd wait until after I got on the plane to talk shit about me, and I made sure to tell them that I'd be disappointed if they didn't.

Turns out the fuel delivery was a little late, and that may have contributed to the gate agents' accommodating moods. It's 13:58, I'm sitting in seat 9C, and the plane pushes off at 14:03. Whew.

Get into Cleveland, and as luck would have it, my planned connecting flight is at the very next gate over. Sweet. Go to check in with the gate agent, who's a middle-aged Asian guy. He indicates that I should be able to get on the desired flight, and proceeds to put me on the standby list. Just in case, I ask him to list me standby on the next flight (to ORD, three hours later) as well. Then, in a neurotic fit, I ask him to list me on the flight between the two, which leaves 10 minutes after the next one, but is clear over at the end of the next terminal, and goes to MDW instead. I realistically don't think I'm at all likely to take that flight, as I'd probably not make it over in time, let alone the fact that Midway is 40-60 minutes south (O'Hare is 10 miles/20 minutes) from Bah's place) out of the way, but what the heck, list me for the proverbial shits and giggles.

30 minutes pass, then 40, they start boarding the 50-seat plane, other standby passengers get called (all manner of paying customers get priority boarding as compared to non-revenue ("non-rev" in industry parlance) / space-available ("SA" or "Space A" in the vernacular)) and let on, and I'm starting to get antsy, when Asian guy waves me over and lets me know that I'm on. Sweet. Then he notices another older Asian businessman type in a suit at the gate counter. After assessing his situation, it is determined that he needs to get on first, as he's a paying customer. Ah, the joys of SA travel. No big deal I guess, I'll just follow him on and stand here for 30 more seconds, live and let live. Wrong. Turns out Mr. Asian quasi-businessman in his gay purple suit took the last seat on the plane. MY seat. Crap. Now I've got 30 seconds to make a decision. Can I hoof it over to the other terminal to make the flight to MDW, or bite the bullet and wait for the 3-hour-later flight to ORD? Hrm. Gotta be in in time for dinner with Bah's new girlfriend, so I guess 3h isn't an option...looks like it's time to hustle over to the MDW flight. To make a long story only slightly less long, I made the flight, partly because the gate agent had my boarding pass printed up, and I make it on the plane before completely passing out into lung failure.

So finally, I make it back to Chicago, and all's well...

And L...I finished on the plane. :D

More to come, possibly...

Well, that's it...the trip to Chicago ended up being completely boring, didn't see or do anything or anyone, and in fact, had to blow off a couple/few friends (Sorry Amy, Amy, and Michelle) who I'd tentatively made plans with, and completely neglected to tell dozens of others that i was even in town. I even passed on a sure thing! I'm getting sloppy in my old age, it's true... (sorry Breanne, maybe next time...)

And now that it's been three weeks, the relevance of the trip is largely lost...we'll see in the next day or two if anything more interesting happens that might be worth writing about...

Ciao, friends.

Asian persuasion...

2005-07-30T05:52:00.000-04:00

Wow, three weeks since a proper post, unconscionable . Truly shameful. I'd like to be able to say that I had a (or several) good reason(s) for not posting before now, but in fact, I'm too lazy to do even that. I had a post half-written about my experiences in attempting to scramble to make my flight to Chicago a couple weeks ago, but as stated, it's as yet unfinished, and will likely remain so for at least a few more days. But rest assured that you'll get to read all about it, as I've got way too much time into it already to just pitch it.

For right now, the big news of the hour is that I just got off the phone with Asian (specifically, Chinese) hottie Kelly, whose insistence that I go back to the NYC for a visit was swayed by a succint invitation to share her "very small", (her words) bed for the duration of my stay. Sweet! Now if only I could find a couple photos of her to post here...

More soon, I hope...at the very least, a catching up, a status update, and very possibly, explanations of the crappy pictures I've posted from the road to assuage you, the loyal reader...there is so much, yet so little to report...sweet dreams, I know I'll be enjoying mine...'night, Kel baby... :D

2005-07-23T00:49:00.000-04:00

Ouch...

2005-07-17T00:30:00.000-04:00

Woohoo! Party on!

2005-07-12T14:01:00.000-04:00

Whew, made it! 13:58

2005-07-09T21:04:00.000-04:00

Test, 1, 2... test, 1, 2...

More weirdness...

2005-07-08T05:33:00.000-04:00

How strange, now the first post and photo (at around 02:55 07.08.05) I submitted via MMS seems to have disappeared entrierly...this is all very strange...stay tuned, as I try (not very hard) to get to the bottom of this...

Winding curves...

2005-07-08T04:15:00.000-04:00

Dangerously twisty ones, in this case of the learning variety.

I just spent an hour or so trying unsuccesfully to modify the last post, which it appears cannot be modified. That's going to grate on my nerves that there's no way to alter, delete, or correct entries sent in over MMS.

A little background: the last post was sent via my mobile phone. I'd just written an extensive post on the sequence of events that led up to the decision to utilize the newly-introduced Blogger feature of mobile blogging. Unfortunately, due to some kind of Blogger software/programming glitch, my entire post is lost (why does it never fail that only the posts we write in the Blogger window, instead of notepad or Word, are the ones that invariably get lost? All it would have taken on my part was a simple and strategically-timed command-A, command-C, and all would have been fine and salvageable. Grr!), and now I'm far too agitated to recreate the post from memory (not that I even could at this point.)

The thrust of it was that I'd been thinking over the last couple days, of starting a photo blog. Mike's and Alan's textamerica.com photo blogs (or moblogs, a truncation of mobile blogs, and a term I loathe for some reason) are pretty good examples of this prolific phenomena. The ubiquity of cheap camera phones coupled with the self-aggrandizing nature of this country's populace (and, I guess, by extension, of the human condition as a whole, creates an environment where there almost seem to be more photo blogs than people. Mike doesn't do a text blog, and Alan had his photo blog before venturing into the world of the written (typed) entry, so their needs are slightly differnet than mine (and one another's), making for a nice, representative needs-demographic cross-section. That being said, there's definitely seems to be a value-added component appeal to being able to post to one's blog not only from anywhere one has access to a computer and the internet, but also to be able to do so (and have an easy way to add photo evidence) from anywhere in the global GSM coverage network.

Taking my recent dearth of posting into account, it seems as though a good combinative (is that a word?) idea has been stumbled across, much like the peanut-butter-and-chocolate commercials of my youth. I still have an inherent need to ramble on ad infinitum from time to time, but in the absence of the time, attention, and opportunity to do that over the ever-increasing-length weekends, (and with Rosie's repeated urgings to post some pictures, for god's sake!) and with me finding myself in worth-a-thousand-words situations with increasing frequency, perhaps the more-frequent-and-with-more-photographic-content-but-less-wordy approach bears investigation.

I'm the first to go on at length about how I haven't owned a digital camera whose maximum resolution is 640 x 480 in something like 8 years (in fact, my first, a behemoth monstrosity of a first-generation Sony Mavica that I paid in excess of $800 for, and may still be in my brother's posession), and that, despite their increasing complexity (some are multi-megapixel and/or carry LED 'flash' units to aid in low-light photography,) the convergence of digital cameras and cell phones is decidedly NOT a good thing. It does however, amaze me that the mechanics of a device that does the same thing as that two-fisted beast of my past, can fit inside the secondary feature space of a device that weighs less than 3.8 ounces, and displaces no more than a couple dozen cubic centimetres. Simply amazing.

The second component is that I already own a fully capable and compact [dedicated, read: single-purposed] 5MP digital camera, a Pentax Optio S5i. I pretty much keep it with me at all times, and it takes outstanding 2-3 megabyte photos, that when you return from a weekend having taken 250 of these almost-infinitely enlargeable, croppable, and also-great-for-performing-detailed-skin-analysis files that invariably need to be reduced into managably smaller sizes, become a bit of a chore to manage. There probably is something to be said for the limited-application graininess and tininess of some photos being in this different format.

Well, it's after 4am, and I'm feeling the coherence diminishing appreciably. We'll see how the remote photo submission experiment works, and as always, feedback in the form of your comments are always welcome.

Ciao.

Midweek doldrums...

2005-07-07T09:58:00.000-04:00

No post today, up too late doing largely pointless things like reading, then taking random 7am calls from hottie nurses. (OK, maybe not nurses plural, just one...)

Possibly more tomorrow, we'll see if anything interesting happens.

Took around 240 photos this past weekend, but unfortunately, due to not having any model releases on file, and not wanting to get on the wrong side of USC 2257, I can't post any of them. Pity, some are pretty hot....

Mahalo...

2005-07-02T07:05:00.000-04:00

Now everyone knows the cheesy cliche about god not closing a door without opening a window and all that. I can't say that I have any firsthand knowledge of this god person having much of an orchestrating hand in the events of my life, but I will say that the universe hasn't ceased to amaze me in the serendipity of the timing of events.

There are few things that will make one forget one's troubles (not that I have a terribly brow-furrowing existence, but still...I _did_ whine about the (perhaps temporary) loss of the summer rebound stripper girlfriend) than new (or newish) and intriguing hotties. No sooner than I type up the electronic "wah" that was that entry, than I head out to the club, where I run into Le...uh...let's call her L2 (this is the first duplicate initial! A milestone!) who I met maybe a month ago, and hit it off with. She seemed VERY happy to see me, and was throwing me all kinds of crazy vibes, and kissing me a couple times throughout the night. Normally, I'd have been completely reciprocal in the flirting (I was only mildly flirtatious in return, I'll get to why in just a second) were it not for this absolutely luscious 22-year old Hawaiian dish smiling at me and making eye contact. This was a quandary, indeed. On the one hand, L2 and I definitely have a proven chemistry, we're both very attracted to one another (She's the one from a few weeks ago who I mentioned had kind of casually caught the yellow fever through contact with P, the stripper (ironically, because come to think of it, I met them both on the same night. But tonight, like then, L2 was going to be back Saturday night, affording us plenty of time to flirt and explore the chemistry tomorrow. Conversely, C, the nubile Hawaiian cutie (Think Michelle Branch with a large C/small D cup and a pageboy type haircut...) was there for tonight only, and it was imperative that I close the deal. Unfortunately, there will probably be several other potential prospects tomorrow night, so it's going to be another night of difficult and trying decisions. And my god, you should have seen the VS bra that L2 had on tonight! godDAMN! And she just has the softest skin...[sigh] Apparently, she's got some naughtier photos online somewhere, I need to nail down where they are...y'all really should have seen her in this bra, shit...Wish me luck for tomorrow night, I'm definitely going to need to eat my proverbial wheaties! More on all that later, but suffice it to say that Ms. C was a delight to get to know and spend some time with, I'm sure we'll be seeing more of one another...

In other news, it appears that my RAZR order has gone through, and my new baby is en route to me as I type this. The good news is that all three criteria that I'd set for the deal have been met, 1) get a deal on the phone, 2) buy said phone(s) on shared minute plan so Bah can have a phone, and I ostensibly get twice as many minutes as I would have normally, and 3) that we can port the numbers over and not have to contact every last person we know to pass along new (possibly crappy) numbers. Sure enough, my phone goes through various iterations of working and not working tonight; for a while, people couldn't call me, but I could still call out, then it wouldn't ring on incoming calls, but would go to my cingular voice mailbox, which wouldn't take a message because I hadn't set up my mailbox yet, so for a short while, I could get to both mailboxes, one by calling myself, and the other by hitting the voicemail button. Bizarre. So now it just says "SIM Error", and I can't do anything. Ah well, everything chould be kosher by wed...in the meantime, feel free to call me between now and then, but in all likelihood, I'll be unreachable by phone or text message until Tuesday/Wednesday, and will pick up all my messages then. I may have e-mail access if you so choose, you can get ahold of me that way.

It's going to be a LONG (but insanely fun) weekend...

Off to the resort, have a mahhhhvelous holiday.

Hottie dynamic shifts...

2005-07-01T19:50:00.000-04:00

Damnation, it's thunderstorming here, and my power (which is not all that reliable to begin with) has just seen fit to randomly blip, crash my computer, and subesquently trash my whole blog entry...grr! On the plus side, it seems to have reset my shitty internet connection, and all is good on that end...since I basically remember what I wrote, so I guess it's a net gain.

It appears that my summer rebound stripper girlfriend has gotten back together with her last ex (the one she was rebounding from), perhaps in part due to the facts that I 1) haven't called her in like two and a half weeks (If three days is kinda money, does 15 days make me five times as money?) 2) went to the beach and ogled hotties without inviting her along (although I don't even know if she knows that) and 3) I never really made much of an effort to talk to/contact her, even when she did call me a couple weeks ago...hrm.

Ah well, she's indicated that I'm a lot of fun, and that she'll be keeping my number in case things change (and change they will, it's pretty much just a matter of time), as she's one of these warm-body types, who's got an on-again, off again thing with this boyfriend. Comfortable as it might be, they got together and broke up (again) in the week between the time I met her and we met up again the next weekend...see a trend?

To assuage my bruised ego, I bit the bullet and ordered myself a new toy in the form of a spiffy RAZR V3. (Free with activation and after rebate from buy.com, and with a free Plantronics Bluetooth headset, woot.) Unfortunately, today's Friday, and it won't be here til mid week next week, what with the holiday and all. Part of the change involves moving to Cingular, so if you're on that system or the former AT&T, let me know, I'll be able to call you for free after this. I've specified that my current number should be ported over, so I'm not sure when my existing phone will stop working, and people who call me will make my in-transit box ring. Interesting. So sorry to all the folks I promised that I'd be getting a Charlotte/704 number, I'm just too attached to the ZEN-ONE1 mnemonic device...

Now Playing: The Chemical Brothers featuring Q-Tip - Galvanize

This song is great to get into the party frame of mind...

May try my hand at pancakes from scratch, Quiche, and homemade bacon this weekend, wish me luck! For now, it's off to the club; have a great/ happy/ safe/ hottie-filled holiday weekend, y'all.

6(182/26) down, 6(183/26) to go...

2005-07-01T05:50:00.000-04:00

How can the year be half over already? Where has all the time gone? Where, I ask you?!

Now Playing: Save Ferris - Angry Situation

What ever happened to those guys? Monique was super cute.

Well, it's 3:30am, and while I'm contemplating bed, I realize that I'm at a complete loss as to what to write.

Main interesting events of the day:

-A visit from a friend for whom I volunteered to try and fix her car CD changer. The visit got so distracting, that I completely forgot to reinstall it while she was here. Nice.
-My two favorite girlfriends had a date tonight, their second such experience with one another, and I couldn't be happier for them. Can't wait to hear how it went!
-A/C at the house is offically on the blink...it's been over 80 degrees fahrenheit all day, with a high of 87. Ever try to have sex in 87 degree heat? Not that I did; it's just a hypothetical. At least it wasn't crazy humid. And lucky it wasn't hot/ sloppy/ wet/ messy sex. Again, hypothetical. HVAC guys are coming in the a.m.
-My internet is also wonky, all kinds of crazy packet loss and general browser/chat client unhappiness. It makes for a maddening internet experience.
-Watched a highly interesting episode of Good Eats wherein the knowledge of how to make (cure/smoke/store) homemade bacon was imparted...Yum! Gotta try that one, I bet it'll turn out fantastic...(also learned on another episode that oysters, like crabs, shouldn't be eaten in months not containing an "r", or the summer/warmish months)
-As I write this, it's been exactly .5 years (more or less to the hour) since I met my new "family" (yeah, I know, I need a better comparative term, but what can I say? It's not my fault that the only analogous verbiage I've come up with has a slight incestuous tinge...) So y'all know who you are, happy pseudo partial anniversary, (in best Cartman voice) I love you guys, seriously...don't make me say it again! [snif] It's been the best six months of my life, and as far as I can tell, shows no signs of abatement. Here's to hundredfold extension of this adventure, it's going to be nothing if not engaging. Our respective imaginary grandkids aren't going to believe the stories!

Now Playing: Air - La Femme D'Argent

The Silver Lady? Hrm, wonder what the implications are there...quel mysterie! Great chillout/ambient tune, though, (as is the rest of the album, Moon Safari, I highly recommend you pick it up or illegally download it) to have in the background while one schmoozes a chick's pants off. Again, hypothetically. While we're on the subject of chillout/ambient, here are a couple others you should check out for that sort of thing: (I can't attest to any song's particular or effective SPRQ (Specific Panty Removal Quotient), but put these bad boys on a CD, and y'all should be GTG, as the IM/text kiddies say (Good To Go).

-The aforementioned Air songs, plus a couple others here and there that I'm not mentioning specifically
-Motorcycle - As The Rush Comes (Gabriel and Dresden Chillout Mix)
-Oceanlab - Satellite (Forest Dehan Mix)
-Ferry Corsten - Holding On
-Lux - 100 Billion Stars
-Zero 7 - Various...Destiny, Somersault, In the Waiting Line, Give it Away, Polaris...etc.
-Various Thievery Corporation - Lebanese Blonde, All That We Perceive, Shaolin Satellite, and a few others I know by sound, but can't remember the names of...more chill than ambient. (Have I mentioned that I've been to the 18th St. Lounge and know the bartender there? Cool place, check it out if you're ever in DC, It's pretty happening/hip)

These last two aren't really full-on chillout/ambient, but they're slow enough to be on the fence...

-Brother Brown featuring Frankee - Under the Water (Club Radio Edit)
-Dubstar - Stars (Dance Mix)
-Blank and Jones featuring Robert Smith - A Forest

Hrm...not too bad a list, if I say so myself...I'm sure I'm missing more than just a few, but it's late, and that's all I can come up with off the top of my head.

The holiday weekend is shaping up to be a very good one, with tomorrow's highlight a potential meeting of a myspace hottie slash genuine pseudo TV starlet. I'll let you know how it turns out...who is it, you ask? Perhaps I'll clue y'all in once things go well...til then, a little suspense is good for ratings...

Let it go, let it go, let it go...

2005-06-30T04:31:00.000-04:00

Now playing: Cowboy Mouth - Jenny Says

Just when did 80s music suddenly become so hip? And how did I miss the memo? I guess this is probably happening in conjunction with stripes in men's shirts coming back, here I am with a closet full of solids. Lovely. Perhaps it's just a beach thing, but from the stage at the Windjammer at the Isle of Palms SOUTH Carolina (thanks for the heads-up, Skip, duh.), all the beautiful babies _loved_ the cover band playing, to the tune of getting up on stage and hanging on the guys of Weird Science (who even dressed the part, with a longhaired guitarist to the sweatshirt and tied-off bandanna lead singer, to the white-blazer-and-shades bassist.) I do have to say that they werte pretty spot-on with most of the covers, with the guys switching crooning duties to sing different styles of whatever song they were doing.

Saturday brought weather that was completely unaccomodating for any type of beach activities. Indeed the whole of the nation enjoyed a bright, sunny day, save the area immediately surrounding Charleston, SC. Lovely. We spent the day enjoying a late breakfast (barely making the 2pm service cutoff), driving back over the connector bridge to downtown Charleston, taking in some of the rainy historical landmarks, wardriving a bit to get e-mail and google maps for navigational purposes, then lunch and drinks on Shem's Creek (sp?), an aborted attempt to find a strip club that was open at 6pm (all but one dive opened at 8, pity), lively debate regarding dinner plans for the evening turn into a completely spontaneous decision to attend a local charity fish fry. As the resident city boy, this is my first such event, and I have to say, it was an experience. Pity there were no photos, although no photos could adequately capture the rankness of the band playing. Pink Floyd at a fish fry? Really guys, gotta know your audience...

Post fish fry, wander into the 'jammer to scope out the scene, we take in the aforementioned retro band, and meet two lovely creatures in the form of Brenda and T...crap...Tamara? No, that's not right...it'll come to me...anyway, we get to chatting these two up, and it appears that they're there with dates who they seem to kinda like, but aren't crazy about. They proceed to throw Skip and Lin(!) and I some vibe in varying degrees, (they would whisper to one another constantly, and when I told them that every time their heads approached one another, I thought (and hoped) that they were going to make out...they both tittered at this idea, but both said it wouldn't ever happen, then got all huggy and touchy with me, yay) and we, out of some kind of misplaced respect for these guys we don't know, just kind of sat back and watched, taking in the situation. Now I am generally as laid-back as laid-back gets, but for some reason, something about these two just motivated me to take some kind of action. My plan was to suggest that we all hang out tomorrow, Sunday, then give them some numbers, or get theirs...that way they'd be free to do whatever with their dates, and it gives everyone a chance to back out gracefully, if they so choose; in fact, I say just that to both of them individually. As the evening wears on, I'm pondering my approach (I've decided to put a bug in B's ear about getting in touch), she wanders off to find T. The thought briefly crosses my mind that maybe I should duck afterher and make my move, but I don't want to appear too stalkerly, so I hang back, waiting for another opportunity. You see where this is going, right? Some time goes by, and we start to notice their dates walking by now and then, sans the girls. We conference a bit, and decide that the girls have ditched their dates! Alas, this means that the proverbial boat has sailed for us, too, but at least they were able to give their less-than-ideal dates the slip. I think the moral here is clearly that no good deed goes unpunished, and if the opportunity presents itself for one to mack (as the kids say) on designated receptive flirty hotties, one should always strive to do just that. Perhaps subtly, but definitely in such a way that said hotties will be able to find you once they've ditched their primary date(s).

Tricia! That was the blonde's name...whew, that would have bothered me forever. Kinda like all the 80s songs that came on, and knowing the titles and artists, even for some of the one-hitters. It was actually somewhat frightening, mainly because I knew who they were, but also for not being able to get some of the easy ones, perhaps due to...well, I dunno, but there must have been a reason...the Romantics, ("What I Like About You") for chrissakes! How could I not remember that? I knew they were both wrong, but I kept wanting to say the Ramones, and/or the Replacements...sheesh.

As you might have ascertained from the link above, the Windjammer is pretty much THE place for island/beach event on the Isle of Palms. They've got some webcams where you can check out the goings-on on stage, on the deck, on the dace floor/bar area, sand volleyball action, or even the surf conditions, but more importantly, beach means bikinis, and we were fortunate enough to be there on a day when the Budweiser Bikini Bash was scheduled. Unfortunately, due to other opportunities intervening, we ended up missed the contest. However, here are some representative photos of this year's contests gone by, an indication of what we missed:

They don't seem to have the photos from the contest on the 26th that we could have been in the crowd for, but hopefully they'll be up soon. I take some solace that in missing the contest, I got more action than everyone at the contest for the duration combined. (If that makes sense...) Apparently though, this is an annual thing, and they're seem to be OK about documenting it, as the photo journal of events past can be found here

Even beyond the bikini contest, the women at the beach and on the island as a whole, damnation! Two separate examples come to mind. The first, as we arrive on the island, we trek down the beach, take in the sights, and end up at Coconut Joe's rooftop bar. While we're ordering drinks, these two women (say 21-22, one much cuter than the other - olive-skinned and extremely exotic-looking, wearing a ramones t-shirt and a short loose jean skirt,) sidle up to the bar. As the less cute one orders them drinks, jean skirt and I make eye contact. She smiles and sticks her hands in her pockets. Naturally, my eyes are drawn downward, in time to see that her hands have been pocketed with enough enthusiasm that I'm now privy to the fact that she shaves. Crikey! It's going to be a good trip! Two days later, at the 'jammer, another lithe bronzed vixen is walking around the deck in a bikini top and (again) loose khaki shorts. Only in between her tugging them up, we're treated to just the slightest tease of what appears to be a flame tattoo peeking out from the area of the mons venus. Why do they torture us so? Most of midday Monday is spent lounging on the beach in obvious lecher mode, digicam blazing. A couple/few will be posted when I get aorund to downloading them from the TiBook.

At the various watering holes, I resist the urge to dine on previously legged meats, (somewhat unsuccessfully, I consumed not one, but two steaks while there) choosing instead to sample the divine seafood for which the east coast is known. I'm told that stone crabs are a local showcase delicacy, but alas, they're only in season during months featuring an "r", and they tell me June isn't one of those months. pity. Many varieties of fish are consumed, along with shrimp and conch fritters, various types of crab and lobster dip, and several pounds of fresh (allegedly just caught that morning) jumbo (21-25) shrimp. Yum.

In the year or so since relocating to the Carolinas, I'd hardly seen anything. In the space of eight or nine days, I've finally managed to at least visit the "High Country" of the Appalachians and visited the marshy "Low Country" coast. The irony in the return trip was, of course, that after we'd been rained out Saturday, we did finally get to enjoy two days of nearly unencumbered sunshine (I'm quite pink at the moment), only to drive home through and to what was possibly among the heaviest rainfall I've ever experienced.

More exploration is called for...

The summer is calling...

2005-06-29T06:55:00.000-04:00

Now playing: Aquagen - The Summer is Calling (Hey, what can I say? wel all look to our environs for inspiration, non? That and it was oddly appropriate...)

Well, seeing as how it's 6:30am, a proper post will probably need to wait until tomorrow. For now, what I need to convey is that I absolutely _love_ Charleston (or the Isle of Palms, anyway - more on that later), and the beaches of NC are absolutely fabulous. Many stories to be told, and here's to hoping that I remember them when it comes time to type them out.

Some discussion points:

-Shark attacks, WTF?
-Who knew 80s music was so hip?
-Beach hotties and bikini contests
-Seafood, seafood, seafood!
-Finding Asian grocers
-Tropical storms/hurricanes
-Life and vacationing sans internet/wardriving on the road
-Proliferation of hotspots/unsecured networks
-Non-corporate/Indie radio (e.g., The Rock 106.9, Hartford and The Wave 96.1, Charleston)

Talk to y'all soon...really...

The longest day...

2005-06-23T05:08:00.000-04:00

So the summer solstice is upon us. Or more accurately, has just passed us. (generally accepted as June 22, but the exact moment of this year's North American summer solstice (where the sun is at it's Northernmost point on the horizon) was June 21, at 2:36am.) The longest day of the year up here, and conversely the shortest in the lower hemisphere. And thus, while it's looking to be the best summer ever (for me personally, anyway...dunno about y'all), the days, at least their lengths, are ever in decline from this moment forward, and for the next six months.

Not much going on this week, other than a bit of what is very likely an E-induced lack of motivation, even by my lackadaisical standards. Perhaps a couple/few weekends' break is in order...the dreams are truly bizarre, and I can't seem to remember to take the 5-HTP on anything even remotely approcaching a regular basis.

Oh, and incidentally, yes...I do know, even before all the complaints I recieved today for posting too-long a conversation, and wasting untold amounts of valuable reader time, etc., that I totally should have edited yesterday's IM conversation for brevity and flow...but what can I say? I was tired! sheesh...tough room...

Off to bed...heading down to the Charleston (SC) beach this weekend, by way of somewhere called the Isle of Palms...sounds dreamy, non? Inaugural journey (road trip, in this case, the success or failure of which will singlehandedly determine suitability of travel and by extension, designation and frequency of future travel with this particular bunch) with dear friends, to what looks to be a marvelous locale, good weather, how much better could life be, indeed? Much preparation and packing to be done on the morrow, hope I can remember what all needs to be done.

Sleep well, friends.

Lips, assholes, and other filler...

2005-06-22T04:25:00.000-04:00

In taking another page from Rosie's school of blogging, here's an amusing (if not somewhat verbose) IM that took place tonight, in lieu of any actual substantiative effort on my part. (Although learning to format the cut-and-pasted text from the IM window took just as long as writing an actual entry; I guess time savings are realized over many, many posts and taking this easier way out when my friends are suitably amusing...) Items in [brackets] denote minor details obscured to thinly veil identifying names and such. Clearly, I haven't quite gotten Rosie's knack for trimming the fat...as a result, this is a loooong entry...but it IS marginally funny, I swear!

Enjoy...

Session Start (Me:Her): Tue Jun 21 21:54:42 2005
[21:54:42] Her: ok
[21:54:57] Me: ok?
[21:55:06] Her: hrmmm
[21:55:08] Me: you're going to need to elaborate on that
[21:55:13] Her: I've acquired YET another asian male friend
[21:55:17] Her: what's with this
[21:55:18] Her: it
[21:55:33] Her: it's getting to be a bit embarassing.. not in a bad way.. but it looks like I have a fetish
[21:55:34] Her: heh
[21:56:16] Me: odd timing though, my buddy Mike today just asked me about "that bunch of hotties that was coming through Memphis"
[21:56:29] Me: maybe you do and it's time to sleep with me to test the waters
[21:56:57] Her: hrmph
[21:57:25] Her: I'd rather try out a slightly broken in asian man... than a, "I've slept with half of the south" asian man
[21:57:26] Her: ;p
[21:57:36] Me: haha
[21:57:41] Me: touche
[21:57:54] Me: I'll have you know, I'm still _well_ under triple digits, so "half the south" might be a tiny bit of an overstatement...
[21:59:44] Her: hrm you under triple digits? pfft
[21:59:49] Her: and I'm SURE you don't keep count
[21:59:50] Her: how could you
[22:00:00] Me: I have a rough idea ;)
[22:01:42] Her: hrmph
[22:01:52] Her: so yeh.. [my last name] is his name, oddly enough
[22:01:57] Her: totally platonic
[22:02:06] Her: one of my law clerks at work
[22:02:12] Her: oddly enough he lives only a few houses down from me
[22:02:30] Her: so [her hottie younger sister] is already making fun of me
[22:03:18] Me: haha, no way...first or last? chinese? korean?
[22:03:43] Me: totally platonic...I know the feeling, poor bastard
[22:04:41] Her: korean
[22:04:52] Her: raised in hawaii
[22:04:55] Her: he'll be a good drinking buddy
[22:05:17] Her: [my last name] is his first name
[22:05:52] Me: yeah, that's more typical for them
[22:05:58] Me: funny though
[22:07:54] Her: hrmm
[22:08:03] Her: asian entourage
[22:08:08] Her: now I need a thai guy
[22:08:15] Me: you know you're curious
[22:08:22] Her: curious about what?
[22:09:17] Me: lol, just messing with you, killer
[22:09:30] Her: curious.. pfft
[22:09:42] Her: asian men are no different than any other men
[22:09:47] Her: so there's nothing to be curious about
[22:10:06] Me: deny it all you like...the lure of the twinkie will win you over
[22:10:10] Me: haha
[22:10:36] Her: pfft
[22:10:40] Her: twinkie
[22:10:46] Her: where did this term come from anyway
[22:11:05] Her: it's ridiculous
[22:11:40] Me: yellow on the outside, white (and creamy) ;) inside
[22:11:42] Me: haha
[22:11:52] Her: eww
[22:11:57] Me: or banana, take your pick
[22:12:06] Me: the phallic angle is just an added bonus
[22:12:12] Her: unh huh
[22:12:24] Me: this is delicious, you have to admit
[22:12:35] Her: what's delicious?!
[22:12:51] Me: this whole conversation
[22:12:58] Her: how so?
[22:13:56] Me: just in general
[22:14:20] Her: hrm I have no desire to 'sample' different races of men
[22:14:25] Her: I don't discriminate
[22:14:27] Her: well I take that back
[22:14:33] Her: I'm not attracted to black men at all
[22:14:38] Her: just never have been
[22:14:49] Her: but as far as asian goes
[22:14:53] Her: it's the personality
[22:15:04] Me: lol, but _that's_ not a racist thing at all to say
[22:15:30] Me: but just for discussion's sake, what is it about the personality?
[22:15:48] Her: no no.. not that asians have distinctive personalities
[22:16:00] Her: if an asian guy has a great personality, i'm attracted to him the same i would be to a white guy
[22:16:17] Her: has nothing to do with "ooh.. an asian man"
[22:16:21] Me: hrm...that's not what you said, counsel
[22:16:25] Me: lol
[22:16:29] Her: yes it is sir
[22:16:40] Me: this dancer lately...did I tell you that story?
[22:16:50] Her: the dancer you're dating.. err.. sleeping with
[22:17:12] Me: came up to me, and in so many words said she wanted me cause she'd never been with an asian guy, and always wanted to
[22:17:29] Me: the asian thing has never paid off like that
[22:18:10] Her: heh see it's not like that for me
[22:18:48] Me: and OMG, black men are the most maligned, but conversely also the most fetishized, it's insane
[22:18:59] Me: so I guess it balances out
[22:20:30] Her: hrm yeh don't have a thing for black guys
[22:20:38] Her: same goes with blondes
[22:20:40] Her: with one exception
[22:20:48] Me: so you mentioned
[22:20:50] Her: dark haired guys who dye their hair platinum
[22:20:52] Me: oh yeah?
[22:20:55] Her: yeh
[22:20:57] Her: hrm
[22:21:07] Her: but natural blondes, or sandy blonde
[22:21:07] Her: ick
[22:21:19] Me: who's the one exception?
[22:21:26] Her: what exception?
[22:21:33] Her: do i have one?
[22:21:59] Me: ah, nm...missed a line
[22:22:03] Her: hrm
[22:22:06] Her: obviously
[22:22:07] Her: heh
[22:22:16] Me: hey, screw you :P
[22:22:19] Her: no
[22:22:20] Her: hrm
[22:22:23] Me: i'm entitled to miss a line here and there
[22:22:32] Her: yeh?
[22:22:36] Her: hrm
[22:23:00] Her: i wanna go to boston for a weekend
[22:23:13] Me: I'm going to charleston this weekend
[22:23:16] Her: eww
[22:23:17] Me: supposed to be pretty nice
[22:23:18] Her: too hot there
[22:23:22] Her: maybe in the winter
[22:23:29] Her: i know a girl in charleston
[22:23:34] Her: met her on a contiki tour
[22:23:37] Me: hello, it's the beach..i'ts supposed to be hot
[22:23:41] Her: was supposed to viisit but never did
[22:23:57] Me: ooh, is she hot?
[22:24:01] Her: no she's not
[22:24:06] Her: she's very nice
[22:24:08] Her: but not hot
[22:24:13] Me: ah, k
[22:24:28] Her: have you been to savannah
[22:24:32] Her: i want to go there, too
[22:24:35] Her: supposed to be very pretty
[22:25:01] Me: yeah, wanna
[22:25:05] Me: haven't
[22:25:10] Her: yeh
[22:25:11] Her: hrm
[22:25:18] Her: so yeh tell mike i never made it to memphis
[22:25:22] Her: or new orleans
[22:25:23] Her: shame there
[22:25:27] Her: i need to make that happen
[22:25:44] Me: ooh, we're going in nov and I need a date...wanna go?
[22:25:55] Her: i am NOT hanging out withyour swingers
[22:25:59] Me: weekend before thanksgiving I think
[22:26:02] Her: or i might say yes
[22:26:06] Me: lol, why not?
[22:26:11] Me: they're cool people
[22:26:14] Me: sheesh
[22:26:19] Her: provided they keep their clothes on
[22:26:29] Me: hrm
[22:26:35] Me: you drive a hard bargain :P
[22:27:06] Her: heh
[22:27:13] Her: white sox winning again! woohoo
[22:27:15] Her: oh
[22:27:15] Her: so
[22:27:18] Her: check this out
[22:27:20] Me: oh yeah?
[22:27:24] Her: [her younger younger sister] is living with [her hottie older (than the one just mentioned) younger sister] now
[22:27:29] Her: she's done with Purdue
[22:27:36] Her: she broke up wtih the red gold tomatoes guy
[22:27:44] Her: now she's dating her history teacher from high school
[22:27:52] Her: he's 31
[22:27:52] Her: she's 21
[22:27:57] Her: a fucking history teacher
[22:27:59] Me: slow down, I don't know any of this
[22:28:02] Me: tomatoes guy?
[22:28:06] Her: i'm not saying a damned thing because i think it's hilarious
[22:28:08] Me: history teacher?
[22:28:19] Her: yeh...[younger younger sis] was dating the heir to Red Gold tomatoes when she was in college
[22:28:20] Me: bah, 31/21 is nothing
[22:28:23] Her: i'm sure i told you that before
[22:28:28] Me: ah
[22:28:29] Me: nope
[22:28:30] Me: none of it
[22:28:38] Me: didn't even know she was at purdue
[22:28:48] Her: 31/21 is ridiculous as she's immature to an extreme and doesn't know a damned thing about herself or the world yet but thinks she does
[22:28:53] Her: that's a dangerous combination
[22:29:19] Me: bah, it's just fun
[22:29:23] Me: no one's getting married
[22:29:46] Her: hehe that's what you think
[22:29:48] Her: [younger younger sister] is an idiot
[22:30:02] Her: she's already talking about, "he understands me like no other.. he's so ambitious.. "
[22:30:06] Her: ugh
[22:30:18] Me: haha
[22:30:18] Her: he's a history teacher.. i'm gonna crack up if she marries this chooch or gets knocked up
[22:30:22] Her: no more nieman marcus for her
[22:30:30] Her: she's gonna be hanging at sears, jcpenney and kmart
[22:30:41] Me: that's true
[22:31:23] Her: but you can't say anything to her
[22:31:25] Her: so let her learn
[22:31:33] Her: big reality check incoming
[22:31:47] Her: sox won!
[22:31:50] Her: woohoo
[22:31:57] Me: heh, you're such a guy sometimes
[22:32:08] Her: you're such a girl sometimes so we're even, eh?
[22:32:41] Me: yes, that was EXACTLY what I was getting at :P
[22:33:06] Her: hrmmm
[22:33:34] Her: oh
[22:33:43] Her: i'm suing my landlord for my security deposit
[22:33:50] Her: have i told you this?
[22:33:53] Her: the sucker took some of it
[22:33:55] Me: last landlord?
[22:33:57] Her: yes
[22:34:00] Me: nope
[22:34:13] Her: if he doesn't refund the entire amount, i'm taking him to the cleaners
[22:34:53] Me: what was the rationale for retaining it?
[22:35:30] Her: uh "a thorough cleaning and excessive wear and tear to the carpeting"
[22:35:47] Her: i guess it sucks for him that we took pictures literally as we were leaving for the last time and they show that hte place was sparkling
[22:35:58] Me: nice
[22:36:14] Her: it also sucks for him that he chose to deduct money after the 30 day window within which he legally had the right ot do so
[22:36:48] Her: and it sucks for him that he commingled our security deposit with his own funds in his business account
[22:37:00] Her: as he wrote the check for the remainder of our deposit from his personal account
[22:37:14] Me: haha, that wouldn't seem to me to matter much
[22:37:17] Me: that last item
[22:37:21] Her: it's a huge issue
[22:37:26] Me: "comingled", nice
[22:37:34] Me: little miss legalese
[22:37:36] Her: a security deposit never becomes the property of hte landlord
[22:37:55] Her: it always remains the property of the tenant and must be kept in a federally insured, interest bearing account
[22:38:00] Me: but what the hell difference does it make where s/he/they keep it?
[22:38:09] Her: separate from a landlords personal and business assets
[22:38:18] Me: eh, if you say so
[22:38:22] Her: uh becuase if a landlord has debts with creditors
[22:38:29] Me: so how much did he keep? percentagewise?
[22:38:36] Her: they can go after his assets and wipe out a tenant's security deposit
[22:38:40] Me: no, I understand the rationale
[22:38:47] Her: if it's in a separate tenant trust account there's no such problem
[22:38:59] Me: i've just never really seen it in practice
[22:39:20] Her: ah well that's why you don't try fucking over a lawyer
[22:39:32] Her: which he did... trying to skim off our deposit
[22:39:36] Her: he withheld 400
[22:39:40] Her: which isn't a huge amount
[22:39:47] Her: but he shouldn't have withheld any
[22:39:57] Her: the filing fee is under 200 and i obviously don't have to pay for an atty
[22:40:03] Her: don't fuck with me.. he should have known that
[22:41:25] Me: lol
[22:41:31] Me: i'm so proud of you
[22:41:40] Me: I never knew you had this lever of vengefulness in you
[22:41:43] Me: girl after my own heart
[22:41:45] Her: heh
[22:41:47] Her: well
[22:41:56] Her: it's my mission to take down as many scumbags as possible
[22:42:09] Her: if he doesn't cough up my money.. he's going down for a good 7K
[22:42:12] Her: as he will have to hire an atty
[22:42:29] Me: 7K?! how did you come up with that figure?!
[22:42:31] Her: and the remedy is double your security deposit plus costs
[22:42:39] Her: my deposit was 2600
[22:43:08] Me: wow
[22:43:20] Her: yeh
[22:43:23] Her: fucking asshole
[22:43:31] Her: let him get his little firm atty too
[22:43:35] Her: i'll gun them down in court
[22:43:40] Me: lol
[22:43:45] Me: I would so love to see that
[22:43:45] Her: i haven't been doing trials and in a courtroom for two years for nothing
[22:43:48] Her: fucking pencil pushers
[22:43:50] Me: haha
[22:45:26] Her: hrmm
[22:45:35] Me: so what happened to tomatoboy?
[22:45:35] Her: have you watched nip/tuck yet?
[22:45:40] Her: eh she dumped him
[22:45:42] Me: not yet
[22:45:44] Her: he wanted her to stay in Indiana
[22:45:49] Her: she didn't want to
[22:45:52] Her: ugh Gene
[22:45:56] Her: nip tuck is so up your alley
[22:45:57] Her: it's sleazy
[22:45:59] Her: it's so you
[22:46:00] Me: lol
[22:46:01] Her: you have to watch it
[22:46:04] Her: sheesh
[22:46:07] Me: i will, I will
[22:46:09] Her: hot women
[22:46:10] Her: hot men
[22:46:11] Her: miami
[22:46:14] Her: what more do you need?
[22:46:18] Her: raunchy sex
[22:46:18] Me: haven't been able to find the complete first seasons to download
[22:46:20] Her: it's you
[22:46:36] Me: i'm flattered that you think of me when you think of hot men and women
[22:46:47] Me: and raunchy sex
[22:46:52] Her: hahahah
[22:47:01] Her: very well written
[22:47:09] Me: i'm not blogging today, I'm posting this conversation
[22:47:14] Her: hahahahah
[22:47:26] Her: lovely .. i'll be a blog celebrity
[22:47:28] Me: well, parts of it
[22:47:39] Me: and naturally, your name will be changed
[22:48:29] Her: ahhh protecting my identity.. so sweet
[22:48:29] Me: babe, you already are ;)
[22:50:40] Her: hrmm.. coupling is good, too
[22:50:47] Her: it's a british sitcom
[22:51:13] Me: I've heard that, actually
[22:53:34] Me: i'm watching oceans twelve, ever seen it?
[22:53:55] Her: yes
[22:54:01] Her: i watched it being filmed up here
[22:54:08] Her: i was nearly an extra in it ;p
[22:54:15] Me: ooh
[22:54:19] Me: look at you ;)
[22:54:21] Her: jen and i snuck on the set and they thought we belonged and touched up our makeup
[22:54:22] Her: heh
[22:54:25] Me: not bad so far
[22:54:28] Her: it was hilarious
[22:54:42] Me: chinese guy dating supermodel, good moral
[22:54:54] Me: i think it's funny how everyone just understands chinese in it
[22:55:40] Her: hrmmm
[22:56:32] Me: damn, CZJ is hot in this
[22:57:06] Her: she's one of my idols
[22:57:12] Her: angelina jolie and czj
[22:57:24] Her: if i woke up one morning in their bodies
[22:57:24] Me: yeah
[22:57:29] Her: i swear i'd just be walking around naked all day
[22:57:37] Her: i'd be arrested
[22:57:38] Her: heh
[22:57:39] Her: hahah
[22:57:53] Me: except CZJ is forever tainted for having touched michael douglas's old balls
[22:57:57] Her: true
[22:58:02] Her: so angelina jolie is the ultimate goddess
[22:58:07] Me: agreed
[22:58:14] Me: and I never knew you had a secret bi side
[22:58:17] Me: that's kinda hot
[22:58:19] Her: eh not bi
[22:58:22] Her: every woman is like that
[22:58:26] Me: haha
[22:58:27] Her: i don't want to have sex with them
[22:58:31] Her: but i can admire their beauty
[22:58:32] Me: you don't?
[22:58:35] Me: hrm
[22:58:39] Me: that's too bad
[22:58:48] Her: with women it's a catty, envy thing
[22:58:51] Her: not a sexual thing
[22:58:52] Her: heh
[22:58:58] Me: ah
[22:59:01] Her: hrmm
[22:59:09] Me: so you admit to being catty?
[22:59:16] Her: i certainly wouldn't be doing brad pitt if i was angie, though
[22:59:17] Her: yuck
[22:59:26] Me: haha
[22:59:32] Her: eh i can be catty..i think all women can to a certain extent
[22:59:36] Her: i'm not overly so
[22:59:48] Me: true
[23:01:07] Me: ok, not as hot with the long hair and bangs
[23:01:22] Her: who?
[23:01:40] Me: czj in the flashback scenes
[23:01:57] Her: ahhh
[23:02:02] Her: i think she looks better with long hair
[23:02:44] Me: generally, yes
[23:03:42] Me: but whatever you'd call this...bob cut or whatever that she has in "present day" is hot, damn...
[23:04:41] Her: hrm
[23:04:49] Her: i need to stop wearing these pointy shoes
[23:04:54] Her: my feet are KILLING
[23:04:58] Her: ill end up with those witchy feet
[23:05:13] Me: haha, OK
[23:05:19] Me: are they hot though? is it worth it?
[23:05:29] Me: hot shoes go a long way
[23:05:55] Her: i don't really wear "hot' shoes to work
[23:06:03] Her: not practical when i have to stand in court all morning
[23:06:22] Me: sure
[23:07:26] Me: we need to party, [Her name]
[23:08:23] Her: yeh i dunno about your style of partying, Mr. [my last name]
[23:08:27] Her: mmhmmm
[23:08:37] Her: Mr. FreakPot
[23:09:23] Me: freakpot?
[23:09:54] Her: yup
[23:09:55] Me: all I'm suggesting is that we get together, possibly have a few drinks, and chat
[23:10:01] Her: unh huh
[23:10:01] Me: where's the harm in that? That and we should be naked at the time.
[23:10:40] Her: no harm until you whip out the mask and cape and start banging random chicks left and right
[23:10:45] Her: ;p
[23:10:58] Me: LOL
[23:11:01] Me: mask and cape, huh?
[23:11:08] Me: you flatter/mock me
[23:11:26] Her: heh
[23:11:31] Her: it's a funny visual
[23:12:06] Me: hrm, we'll see just how funny by the comments the entry garners ;)
[23:12:52] Her: oh lovely, this makes the blog, also?
[23:13:31] Me: well, verbatim it's a big long in the tooth
[23:13:31] Her: hrmph
[23:13:41] Me: but that remark might make the cut
[23:13:43] Her: long in the tooth?
[23:14:10] Me: i think there are universally interesting statements here
[23:14:24] Her: yeh?
[23:14:25] Her: hrm
[23:14:26] Me: this whole conversation as a blog entry is a bit long and verbose to read, yeah
[23:14:34] Me: and not all of it has universal appeal
[23:14:40] Her: are you saying that my conversation requires extensive edits?
[23:15:18] Her: i'm addicted to Rachael Ray shows
[23:15:20] Her: have i told you this?
[23:15:33] Her: random and out of nowhere, i know
[23:15:49] Her: but i made this blockbuster homemade sangria and bbq the other day
[23:15:54] Her: courtesy of Ms. Ray
[23:15:54] Me: not for the audience of you and I, but for my readership, possibly
[23:15:57] Her: i doctored it a bit
[23:16:04] Me: lol, "blockbuster"
[23:16:05] Her: fabulous
[23:16:08] Her: yes, sir
[23:16:12] Me: I'm more an alton brown kinda guy myself
[23:16:18] Her: liberal amounts of fruit and alcohol
[23:16:19] Me: but I know of ms ray
[23:16:22] Her: i don't like alton
[23:16:26] Me: and she's kinda cute, but also kind of annoying
[23:16:27] Her: he annoys me
[23:16:30] Her: geek little turd
[23:16:34] Her: she can be a bit overly perky
[23:16:38] Her: but i like that she's down to earth
[23:16:39] Me: then I found out that she's like devout christian, so that kinda ruins it for me
[23:16:46] Her: and her recipes are easy to actually follow
[23:16:49] Her: wait
[23:16:51] Me: lol, geek little turd, nice
[23:16:52] Her: devout christian?
[23:16:56] Her: yucko
[23:16:58] Me: yeah, I think so
[23:17:02] Me: see?
[23:17:04] Me: I hate that
[23:17:13] Her: bah she's from new england
[23:17:16] Her: she has to be liberal
[23:17:17] Me: i really should research that more, but I think it's true
[23:17:28] Me: she was featured in guideposts magazine
[23:17:40] Me: LOL, that's not faulty logic
[23:17:52] Me: fron new england=liberal
[23:18:58] Her: well hey.. there's a very large liberal contingent there
[23:19:03] Her: with the exception of Maine
[23:19:17] Her: several people now have told me that it's like the kentucky of new england
[23:19:50] Me: haha, kentucky of new england, I love statements like that
[23:22:02] Her: so what kind of sleep schedule are we on these days Mr. [my last name]?
[23:22:03] Her: hrm?
[23:22:09] Her: what's the usual bedtime
[23:22:34] Me: eh, somewhat erratic
[23:22:40] Me: later on the weekends, obviously
[23:22:51] Me: during the week, just depends
[23:22:55] Me: 4am yesterday
[23:23:13] Me: if there's a blog entry, that's the best way to gauge, generally wihtint 30-60 minutes after blog posting
[23:24:33] Her: well 4am is better than 8am
[23:27:12] Me: yeah, 8am is really more saturday night/sunday morning
[23:28:36] Her: well weekends . that's acceptable
[23:28:48] Her: i love this fast connection
[23:28:52] Her: i can watch movie trailers now
[23:28:53] Her: heh
[23:29:02] Me: haha, you have broadband finally?
[23:29:08] Me: I can send you porn!
[23:29:16] Me: you can watch foamy
[23:29:21] Her: yes, sir i have a cable modem
[23:30:17] Me: do you steal cable TV service?
[23:30:56] Me: http://www.b18c5eg.com/illwillpress/
[23:31:04] Me: #39 dating advice
[23:31:20] Me: i've been trying to get you to watch that for like a year
[23:34:04] Her: no i'm not stealing cable because i don't know how ;)
[23:34:22] Me: just split it off and hook it up to your TV
[23:34:26] Me: voila
[23:34:30] Me: free cable
[23:37:23] Her: heh that was pretty good
[23:37:52] Me: when I first heard of those cartoons, I thought they were hilarious
[23:37:58] Me: but they've gotten lame over the years
[23:38:40] Me: but that one especially, message is good and the [her name] reference is a bonus
[23:39:37] Her: heh yeh well my name is not tattooed on my ass
[23:39:56] Me: no, but I often fanatasize that it is
[23:40:00] Me: haha
[23:40:05] Me: ok, not really
[23:40:41] Her: hrm
[23:41:21] Me: I also like #22, super mystery cult
[23:41:58] Me: ooh, #37, small, medium, large is a classic also
[23:43:17] Me: hrm, #22 is not as good as I remembered
[23:45:41] Her: i'll have to watch more later
[23:45:43] Her: ok [my last name]
[23:45:43] Me: haha, 37 IS as funny as I remembered
[23:45:57] Me: [my last name] #1, damn you!
[23:46:01] Her: 37 was pretty good
[23:46:03] Her: hahah
[23:46:10] Her: i'm outta here
[23:46:19] Her: nitenite freakpot
[23:46:21] Me: k, lates
[23:46:35] *** "Her" signed off at Tue Jun 21 23:46:34 2005.
Session Close (Hf2 ø³J ): Tue Jun 21 23:48:46 2005

Excuses, excuses...

2005-06-21T03:30:00.000-04:00

Yikes...no news here for what...10 days? Frightening.

So much has transpired, yet I've had so little time to compose thoughts/ type/ edit/ retype/ post/ correct/ proofread/ repost...who'd have thought that blogging would be so time-consuming? It's no excuse, really, as I've yet to get a job (that would require looking), do my taxes (which entails preparation and actual effort), or anything else that might contribute to a longer-term, bigger-picture type of outcome.

As I said earlier, there have been many, many things that have happened in the past ten days, and accounts of said things will be forthcoming. However, this week, (as does this weekend,) is shaping up to be fairly busy, so updates may come in the proverbial dribs and drabs...stay with me, dear readers, and your patience will be rewarded. Not greatly, by any measure, but there will be interesting accounts on all manner of topics.

More soon...

Damn you, rosie...

2005-06-11T16:20:00.000-04:00

Again, I normally HATE these types of things, but friggen rosie had it on her page, so I had to try it. And of course not that it's a competition, but come on, there's some drive to beat everyone else...

Your IQ Is 140

Your Logical Intelligence is Genius
Your Verbal Intelligence is Genius
Your Mathematical Intelligence is Genius
Your General Knowledge is Genius

A Quick and Dirty IQ Test

I will say that I have a little bit of an unfair advantage, not because these types of tests favor middle-class white people, and I was brought up in those environs, but because I've always been kinda good at taking standardized, multiple-choice-type tests. I have no doubt that I don't deserve the 140 I got here, nor the 1300 I got on the SAT when I took it in 7th grade, or the 33 I got on my ACTs years later in high school. There's just a logic to writing and by extension, dissecting these sometimes trick questions. The other caveat is, of course, that it's only 16 questions, and there's absolutely no way that that can be truly representative, but on the other hand, the whole reason that I've never done an actual intelligence quotient test is that 1) I don't have the patience, and 2) I don't want to find out that I'm actually a moron.

Feel free to post results in the comments. Attractive women scoring particularly high (or low, or somewhere in the middle, for that matter) will receive extra special attention from me. :) But smart chicks really are hotter.

Now Playing: Annie - Come Together. From her recent album, Anniemal (get it? anniemal? Anyway...) Here's what the Wired reviewer said:

You gotta give Annie credit: It's no small feat to wedge sex kitten meows between flashy disco trills and keep your indie cred intact. The gentle arrangements on "My Heartbeat" are evidence of the Norwegian singer's Europop pedigree, but with mash-up master Richard X on board for "Chewing Gum," she's also destined for club-classic status. Anniemal bridges the chasm between Ace of Base's frivolity and Detroit electro's futurism, making it OK for stoic hipsters to indulge in pop pleasures. Uh, just don't tell their friends. - K.T.

We like sex kittens. Or sexy kittens. Wait, no...not actual kittens. But faggy pop, indeed, Amy. "My Heartbeat" and "Chewing Gum" are decent too...but I haven't gotten through the whole album yet. And we're just going to pretend they didn't compare her to Ace of Base. [shudder]

Damn, how did I sleep til almost 4pm?! Gotta get going on the weekend festivities! On the plus side, I'm exceptionally well-prepared to party all night over the next couple days!

Blogging at sunup...

2005-06-11T06:31:00.000-04:00

...or why this blog has largely fallen by the wayside of late...

It's been a good week for working the Asian angle...first P on Friday, with her "never been with an Asian guy" aproach, then meeting Leanna on Friday, seeing her again Saturday, telling her about P's story, which apparently planted the seed of curiosity in her head, and then later having that endeavour come to fruition that very same night. I also heard a little rumour that D's found another twinkie, with whom to do a little "comparison shopping"...all in all, it seems that we're getting a little recognition of late, and it's not even Asian appreciation month! (Is there one of those, even?)

It's a good year month/week/time to be Asian, I guess!

On a completely unrelated and hypothetical note, There's a certain guilty pleasure in being mentioned in other people's blogs. My initial research has yet to definitively prove or disprove this thoery, but hell, it works for me and a select few around me. When people read about themselves in other people's blogs, as long as the account or retelling isn't too disparaging, they're generally more titillated to be mentioned than upset at being outed for whatever they did. What's both utterly touching and completely maddening, is when one is given a glowing review, but then isn't even able to share it! Gah! Luckily this is only a theoretical glowing mention elsewhereon the imaginary existence of the internet, and that there are others in the same predicament with whom I might form a secret and imaginary support group.

Ventured out to the club late (11ish) tonight, turned out to be a fairly thin crowd. A few people with whom I might have wanted to meet, but largely slow and uneventful. However, the respite did arrive in the form of of my LKN co-conspirators, and a fabulous time was indeed salvaged from what looked to be hopelessly dire straits. Met some new people, chatted with others, and better got to know some more recent ones. Finally stumbled out around 4am, and made my way home.Very nearly didn't post, but I figured I was due to write something, no matter how incoherent and uninteresting.

The date situation is starting to get a little tiny bit complicated though, as having T for a semi-regular date for a few weeks, had acclimated some people to seeing her with me, and as a result, has landed me a few prickly questions about where she is, what our status is, etc. Add to that the fact that P and I met and hit it off last Friday, and then had a somewhat short date Saturday night, and that she seems to have made quite an impression on those who saw us together either/both day(s), coupled with trying to keep track of who's being asked about when some random person says to me "Where's your date?" or "How's your girlfriend?", then trying to remember who that person might have seen me with before, and having to launch into various explanations of things if they aren't in line with what that person might have thought the situation was, well, you get the point. I need to just wear a sign around that says "I'm a tremendous whore, and when you ask me about my "girlfriend" or "date", I haven't the foggiest notion who you're asking about, please be more specific." Anyway, not to be a downer, moving right along...

The new word/phrase for the day is "Fruit Flies". I'd never heard it before, but apparently it's the slightly less derrogatory yerm for "Fag Hag", which I never thought was a bad or demeaning thing to call someone, like "queer" has entered the vernacular, and is no longer insulting. I was always under the impression that women who tended and liked to be with and hang aorund gay men were called fag hags, and that was that. only recently (in the last year or so) have I been made aware that this is not the case, and that one could theoretically land onesself in hot water over the misunderstanding. I like fruit flies better anyway. Thanks to Jeff and [hottie] Jen for the vocabulary lesson.

All in all, I'd have to say that there are times when the heavens just open right up and smile upon you. This (my life generally, and the last 5.5 months specifically) is one of those times. Here's to hoping that we can stretch it out for a couple few years.

Again, sorry for the high level of nonsensical and disjointedness, but it's 6:20am and I need to get some sleep!

Party to make me proud, friends!

Mmm...girls kissing...

2005-06-10T04:42:00.000-04:00

Wow. What an evening. Perch plans went off better than expected, or could even have possibly hoped for. a few invite recipients couldn't make it, but we got a couple bonus, unexpected attendees, who were willing to allow themselves to be talked into staying a bit later than they'd originally planned. The show itself was a little off, no talking baby or Sean song, pity. Quay in drag is always a good show though, and we got to bullshit with them for a bit after the program, but I'm getting ahead of myself here:

First, I did my usual dumbass thing of going to bed at some ungodly hour (9am), thus forcing myself to sleep until all hours of the day (4pm), and feeling like shit upon wakefulness that I wasted the whole day...

So get up, putter around a bit, arrange some plans for the evening, fuck around s'more, put a couple things off, decide to head out for a bite to eat, when who should call but the recently scarce D...we chat and decide to meet for dinner at one of our "regular" spots, which happens to be near where my plans for the evening will take me anyway, how convenient. Unfortunately, I've never been there on my own, and have no idea where it is or how to get there. I decide to swing by the house, to consult with the yellow pages, google, and google maps, in that order. My luck, it seems as though they don't have a phone book entry, nor has anyone on the internet ever heard of them. Bizarre. I decide to wing it with the directions to the vicinity that I have, and kinda fumble my way around and find it from my less-than-stellar memory. Not a great idea. And I'm running a few minutes late.

The Google directions (to the Charlotte Comedy Theater) are flawless up until very near the end; they have me going 0.2 miles on "3rd-4th Connector st", then bearing left at E 4th St, where I'm to go 0.0 miles, then turn right on N Kings drive. What?! I kinda followed it, then came across a S Kings drive, but was hesitant to take it, as Charlotte roads are completely screwy, and "N" and "S" streets are not different parts of the same road, but different roads altogether, there are no fewer than five hundred iterations of Sharon and Sharon-something road, Park something, and a host of others, it's completely nightmarish. Just before that batch of directions, I'd gone straight down a continuous road for less than 2 miles, where the street name had changed no fewer than five times: Selwyn turned into Queens, which became Providence, which begat E 3rd, which gave way to the 3rd-4th Connector, which apparently dumps out onto 4th. Again, WTF? What should on the directions read: "Go straight for less than 2 miles" turns into no fewer than five separate line items. Nice.

When I finally get to the restaurant (20 mins late, thanks for the shitty directions, google maps), I pull up and start walking in. I see this luscious hottie, and after ogling for about a half a minute, I realize that it's Mo. Yikes. I'm going to get my ass handed to me for this one. Walk in and greet the hottie sisters, mention to Miss Mo how amazingly hot she looks (not that she wasn't before, but did she get some sun and do something different with her hair,) and then joined them for a bite. I do miss hanging out with them so! And it's sounding more and more like we're going to have the chance to do more of it this season, yay.

The 10:30 Perch show is okay, but definitely not up to their usual snuff. Notable absence of Sean (I think that's his name, I used to think it was Shannan, but I found out today that she's a girl.) and hence really clever songs and Talking Baby are sorely missed. One member of the troupe did see fit to remark on his internet finding of the day, that women can squirt! Not only that, but he felt that after having read the article, he was pretty confident that he could now make any woman squirt. Nice try, buddy...if you only knew the half of it! Unfortunately, the fact that two of the three girls in our party are proven squirters never came to light. During the show and afterwards when we're milling about with the performers, though, said squirters did openly kiss a few times, and I think we won't soon be forgotten there. I'm not going to lie, it was HOT. We also shared our champagne (it's definitely BYOB) with them, so I think some points were definitely scored, and we made a favorable impression. We need to try and make that show more often.

In that vein, I have to say that seeing two people (for whom one cares deeply) discover a mutual connection and attraction, and explore said connection/attraction, and knowing that one played some small part in that bringing of those people together, is really a tremendously rewarding (not to mention HOT) experience. It also doesn't at all hurt things that both parties are gorgeous and mind-bogglingly sexy women. Rowr.

Have I ever mentioned that I've got this astoundingly charmed life?

Got a return invite to ride shotgun to Hippieville NC, Boone late next week, that should be a good good time, can't wait. While the place was quaint and nice enough to visit, I'm more looking forward to the quality time with my new hottie road trip buddies. [sigh]

Now playing: Coldplay - Talk I'm ambivalent about the new album, I've never been much of a Coldplay fan, but there are a couple few decent songs on this new album, X&Y. They're decent, but give me a trance remix of "Clocks" anyday.

OK, I think that's it...time for bed...

Ahh, my Gwen...

2005-06-09T09:18:00.000-04:00

OK, I was so going to go to bed, but then I noticed that my download of the new Gwen Stefani video had completed, so I decided to watch it before I went to sleep.

My god, every time I see this woman, she gets hotter and hotter. Oh yes, she will be mine. Muahahahaha.

Oh yeah, I need to go to the bank, BRB...

...back...now to return to Gwen pictures.

I don't particularly care for this song (Hollaback Girl) in and of itself, but I do like the video (especially the outfit changes). Fantasies I didn't even know I had have now been defined and fulfilled...cheerleader (duh), race jumpsuit (rowr), marching band geek (! who knew?!), and even all the other little ones in between...yikes...have a gander:

And just by way of comparison, if you haven't seen this clip yet, you absolutely MUST download it...she's on a Letterman interview, and she's got the poor guy drooling all over the desk...but who can blame him?

[Sigh]

Off to dream dreams of my woman, g'night.

Apathy is my middle name...

2005-06-09T06:01:00.000-04:00

Well, I fully intended to do a post today, but I'm thinking now that that's not going to happen. Let's see how I do:

Weekend was, in keeping with tradition, better than every last one before it in a few ways. It'd be tough to beat the Memorial Day weeekend festivities, especially now that I have my first LKN Resort "Big Summer Party" under my belt (and which I have yet to properly chronicle on this forum), but we made a good effort, and several highlights and milestones were surpassed. Furthermore, P has been deemed a worthy (if not amusing in small doses) diversion, and we'll be seeing more (in frequency, anyway...there's not much more to see physically [wink]) of her as a result. Lap dances for all!

Missed an opportunity for a play date on Monday, due to getting the voicemail invite too late...need to get a better handle on when to have the phone on "ring" and when ot have it on "vibrate". Damnation! Gonna be kicking myself for missing that one for a while, it was definitely overdue.

Not much going on this week, it's one of recovery and sloth. I have watched quite a bit of programming in my stupor though, Kung Fu Hustle, with Stephen Chow and a bunch of chinese people you never heard of, Unleashed, with Jet Li, Morgan Freeman and Bob Hoskins, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy with Zooey Deschaniel (yum), Sam Rockwell, John Malkovich, and Mos Def, and Starsky and Hutch with Ben Stiller, Owen Wilson, Bnoop Dog, Molly Sims, Brande Roderick, Amy Smart, and Carmen Electra, (all of the chicks in bit roles, and a cameo from The Bishop Don Magic Juan) along with some random TV programming.

Oddly enough, two of those titles, Kung Fu Hustle and Starsky and Hutch, purely coincidentally are specifically mentioned in this article about Sony-licensed porn for the PSP. Now I have a reason to get one! Hrm, upon reading the article, and associated "related stories" link list, it appears that portable porn is quite the killer app of late. Some Indian guy has written a couple programs to convert torrent-friendly formats to the PSP. Article here. This second article is really much more interseting, as it covers the possibilities of the PSP. My favourite line is "...if the PSP becomes the iPod of portable video. (And it might, if Apple continues to be so reluctant to make the iPod the iPod of portable video)." Nice.

Kung Fu Hustle, (which has been the Hong Kong produced film with the largest US theatrical release to date, beating out the last Stephen Chow film, Shaolin Soccer, another odd, but entertaining movie) was interesting to watch (stoned), and funny at times, but that was about it.

The Jet Li movie was weird and largely pointless, but the action scenes were impressive. The chick who played his mother, Jaclyn Lee, reminded me of a friend, Kelly, in NYC...both hot, for Asian girls... ;)

Hitchhiker's, which I had high hopes for, was largely disappointing. I actually kind of liked the 80's BBC miniseries version better in some ways. The production values weren't proportionally better for the amount of money they no doubt spent as comapred to the British version (cameo by the 80's Marvin was cute), and the plot changes, though penned by Douglas Adams, didn't make much sense, and the whole movie seemed disjointed, both from a fan's perspective, and from a point of view of what I'd imagine someone unfamiliar with the books might be. They leave so many things hanging that a sequel is almost necessary, but will the market bear it? Although I was looking forward to several aspects of the casting, such as Sam Rockwell, Zooey Deschaniel, Mos Def, and Alan Rickman voicing Marvin (brilliant idea, and it worked well), after having only recently seen the BBC miniseries, I have to say that they were only barely an improvement over that one. And what's with Arthur Dent and Trillian being all flirty and interested?! Sheesh...I could go on, but I'm sure it'd be largely boring, as well as making me sound like one of these sci fi freaks...I guess to sum up, it was just too Hollywood, and they have no handle on the Adams franchise...

Starsky and Hutch was mildly entertaining, my favourite parts were the cheerleader (Brande Roderick, Amy Smart, and Carmen Electra) introduction scene (yum), the cheerleader (Brande Roderick) questioning scene, and the threeway action with Owen Wilson, Amy Smart, and Carmen Electra, where the latter two made out for a little while. Also yum. I understand that about 8-10 seconds of footage of the girls kissing had to be cut to maintain the PG-13 rating. Damn those 13-year olds anyway! Give us the girls making out over the added kiddie revenue any day! Might have to download the director's cut.

Plans to venture out to a Perch show tomorrow with select members of the gang. Talking Baby! I wish I could leave there remembering more of the sketches.

May attempt to head over to the club Friday, though as yet undecided on that. Need to talk E into heading up for the weeeknd, and call P to see what she's doing...hrm, that's right, P's busy this weekend. Alas.

I'm generally not a fan of those "If you were a (blank), what kind of (blank) would you be?"-type surveys, mainly because to be of any value, they have to be in depth, and if they're in any kind of depth, I don't have the attnetion span to take them. That and their uber-ubiquity (ooh, good alliterative phrase) is pretty annoying, but I saw this one when I fell into a myspace time sinkhole (damn all those young and underage hotties on there!), and it seemed interesting:

My life is rated NC-17.
What is your life rated?

However, after having taken it, I feel slighted, and empty. Alas.

Ugh...Need to run to the bank today...should I stay up until they open at 7:30? or go to bed and chance that I'll be up and about before they close at 5? I should add that I've been meaning to go since last Friday, but due to my goofy sleep/wake/do stuff schedule and this particular financial's institution's "shortest-business-hours-in-history" philosophy, I will have made by this time tomorrow, no fewer than five trips to the branch in order to try and make a deposit, which I can't seem to do at their ATMs. Nice.

The Universe delivers...

2005-06-04T06:58:00.000-04:00

...but more on that in just a little bit...

Now Playing: Tiesto featuring Kirsty Hawkshaw - Walking on Clouds

So where have I been, y'all might ask? As it turns out, I've been involved in a bit of an orgy in the last few weeks. That is to say an orgy of building, home improvement, and runs to the dump. Being as how I have no discernible job, or anything really to encumber me in my day-to-day life, I volunteered to help some friends who were gracious enough to throw a Memorial day party at their beautiful party abode, to prepare for the event. I never realized how much preparation can go into one of these things. Wow. (Final count, by the way, was 89 individuals...a new LKN record, and for once, the host and hostess were able to enjoy the party themselves. Sweet.) More on that in a bit.

Add to that a pretty good case of what appeared to be pink eye, combined with the symptoms of a bacterial infection, plus some internet health research (a critical no-no, as reading any symptoms whatsoever on the internet will immediately cause the reader to take on (if s/he hasn't already convinced him/herself that s/he had those very symptoms the whole time) whatever sickness one reads about.) Everything from chlamydia to the west nile virus, to ebola were bandied about, no matter how remote, unlikely, or downright impossible the choices were, I thought I had it. I damn near drove myself to the CDC's HQ in ATL just to find out what the deal was. So apologies to both readers who accounted for the several hundred futile refreshes of this page occurring in the past couple weeks, I pledge to not let two more weeks go by between posts here, ever. I hope. It may be okay for some of my peers (no one in particular here *coughcoughskipcoughcough*) to post so sporadically, but it simply doesn't meet my high standards of blog publication. So the first week's absence was largely taken up by party preparations and bug identification and eradication, which seems to be all but over now. (All tests for anything and everything came back negative, BTW...praise Allah! Definitely didn't relish having to make THOSE calls...)

If I can a) find a suitable block of time, b) remember the events contained therein, and c) somehow manage to not forget a) and b), I'll blog some about the party. For now, I'll leave you with a bit of a teaser: I've introduced one dear friend (E) to the group, and she seems to have taken to them like a fish to water. Welcome to the gang, E...We're going to have a fabulous time. Secondly, I finally managed to spend some quality time with K, a new friend acquired in the past couple weeks. More on this and other party proceedings later (perhaps).

Post party, I decided to take some time to relax, and enjoy my environs. Upon eventual return home, I catch up on a few things (The T-mobile/cellular fiasco among others...I've achieved a temporary stay of execution, and gotten T-mobile to up my service plan (read: doubled plan minutes to 1600) with no additional contract, retroactive to this month...so I'll be on at least until I can find a decent V3 RAZR/ V8 SLVR deal...the tier II CS guy said T-Mobile's getting the RAZR in the fall...hrm), and that brings us to...the present day.

As fate would have it, today brought with it a heartstring-tugging, but better-for-the-longer-term goodbye to a dear playmate, and an all-too-soon end to a largely enjoyable situation. Alas, a moment of silence, please. My hope is that she's not completely absent from my life going forward, and that as cliche as it sounds, we can maintain contact and continue to support one another in our respective endeavours. We'll see if the heavens concur that that's a good idea. I certainly hope so.

I thought that universal karmic balance came in the form of an unexpected visit from a certain (and my hands-down favourite) angel of mercy, and if it were, I'd consider myself a damned fortunate man to have called it a day there, but the wicked mistress that is fate wasn't quite done with me just yet...

Now Playing: Artful Dodger featuring Melanie Blatt - Twenty-Four Seven

Funny number, that twenty-four. As coincidence would have it, it's the age of the dancer I had the good fortune of meeting at the club tonight. So as one letter in my life goes out, the universe-at-large ushers in another in it's stead. P is a stunning olive-skinned, curly-haired brunette, who stands perhaps 5'5", is absolutely vivacious, lusciously shapely, a happy drunk (or so it would appear thus far), and completely and unequivocably brazen (that's so hot) in her pursuit of that which she deems desirable. I'm volunteering at the bar, and she wanders in with her date (who I'm later told is a friendly co-worker from her day job), making the proverbial grand appearance in a white medium-weave fishnet dress. We make a bit of eye contact, I think that she's quite the knockout, and go on about my business. A short time later, they sidle up to the bar, we banter and flirt idly, and when I ask what I can get for them, she responds that they're fine, and just want to harass the bartender. Rowr. Flirt a bit more, ascertain that the date is just a ride, so the wittiness/charm gets bumped up a bit. Introduce them around to some of the other hotties at the bar, chatter a bit, they move on, in the form of taking seats at a nearby table. Some time later, in a lull in serving, she sneaks behind the bar with me, and gets in close:

"Would you be offended if I said I just wanted you for your penis?" Holiest of crap, does shit like this even actually happen in real life?!

"Uh, now that you've actually gone and said it, I might be offended if you didn't."

"Well, I ask because I have this list of things I'd like to do before I die, and 'hot Asian guy' is just above 'fireman'...you're not a fireman, are you? 'cause I'm sort of saving that for last."

"Hrm, no, but I could put you in touch with fireman twins, if twins are on your list..."

OK, I digressed a little bit at that point, but hey, what can I say, the brain-turns-to-mush point had long since been passed when I went to kiss her and she neither slapped my fat ass, nor called security. Score! Okay, so perhaps I could/should have waited a hair longer to go in for the kiss, and indeed, prudence would have dictated just that, but I'm telling you, this chick was throwing out the vibe, man! Either that or she was feeling around for my car keys or something. She eventually indicates that she'd like to see me "soon", and I naturally can't agree fast enough. We exchange phone numbers and e-mail addresses, and basically spend the rest of the night making out and carrying on like high school kids. I swear, I'm STILL giddy. One crucial misstep that took place was that once I saw how famously we were getting along, I started introducing her around with my signature cheesy line, "this is my new best friend P." Robin caught me (as she's seen me do this in the past), and asked me point-blank, "How many new best friends do you have, anyway?" Of course, my response was "As many as it takes, baby!" After all, I have to make sure she knows exactly how slutty I am going into things. Fortunately, she indicates that sluttiness on my part isn't a problem. Sweet.

Naturally, the question that begs asking is, "How is it that a fine specimen of womanhood like her is unencumbered by a silly man (redundant?) of some sort?" Ah, she's just broken up with him. Hrm, gears are turning, and there's a burning insulation smell..."I could SO be the rebound guy!" I say. Nice! She responds that her rebound relationships generally last about a year. OK, that's doable...I could be and use some arm candy for a year...this is getting more and more interesting by the minute. I further learn that she's a part time dancer at one of the local clubs (note to self to go see her dance sometime), doesn't drive, and thinks that I'd be pretty hot even if I wasn't Asian and happened to land myself on her two-item list becasue of it. Sweet. All that's left, now that she's expressed interest, is to lay the "I'm really lazy AND have no job" line on her. Surprisingly enough, not only does she not bolt for the door, but she congratulates me for being so good at the boytoy thing and asks where she can find a sugar momma of her own, as she's been looking for one (AND she's bi! Does it GET any better?!) I assure her that that's not the case at all, and that my only secret is that I've learned how to be really really poor and yet still maintain my happiness.

She also relates a tale of how she'd thought she'd met her "tall hot Asian boy" previously, but he turned out to be all ghetto, saying things like "Holla at ya boy", and things in that vein. WTF is up with that? I know white kids who think they're black are affectionately known as "whiggers", but what about race-identificationally challenged Asian kids? I've come to embrace terms like "Twinkie" and "Banana" (yellow on the outside, white on the inside) in the same way the gay/lesbian community de-connoted "queer" way back when. Anyway, I digress...whatever the case, I thank the ghetto Asian kid for not being able to deliver to the lovely Ms. P...who's your daddy?

Now Playing: Jenna Drey - Killin' Me

Fate is a cruel and ironic mistress, especially when it comes to putting the WinAmp on "shuffle". So...I wonder if there's a way for me to plot to see her Sunday, her first off day coming up, without violating the revered three-day industry-standard waiting-to-call period rule from the movie Swingers. Hrm, dilemma dilemma...

I'm far, far, far too fond of this girl for only having met her several hours ago. If there was a surer kiss of death for a budding relationship, I don't know what it is. We'll see how much I can tempt fate, as I can see she and I being a major force of mischief in the greater Charlotte metro area...

OK, off to bed, it's shaping up to be a busy weekend, and perhaps even a busy week...

Party safe, be well, and get your slut/flirt/party ON!

Longest. Break. Ever...

2005-06-03T05:08:00.000-04:00

Well, It's officially been two weeks since my last post. It would appear that my laziness knows no bounds. It's been a hectic, yet not so hectic two weeks, and I've alternately been in highly annoying discomfort and utter bliss, depending on what day it was. But more on all that later. For today, upon my return to my apartment, in addition to finally talking to my father (who unceremoniously (after not having spoken to me in a couple weeks) left me a message, among other jaw-dropping news, indicating that he thought I was in jail) I've been faced with the need to deal with a few situations. Of which I only seem to have gotten to one:

Those of you who know me, know that I've been having some mobile phone problems of late. Some of these problems were carrier-related, some phone-related, most highly mysterious. Said problems have motivated me to start looking into phone replacement and thus carrier-jumping avenues. My initial impulse in terms of replacement candidates was the Motorola V3 RAZR, a damn fine review (with literally dozens of photos) of which is here. Another decent one (with way fewer photos) is here.

This phone is only available through Cingular, but that works out, as I'm also of the impression recently, that Cingular is probably the best way to go as far as carriers for several reasons: 1) their recent merger with AT&T Wireless has rendered them nothing short of the juggernaut of North American Wireless providers, which bodes well for coverage and free in-network mobile-to-mobile calling. (let me know via comments if you're on cingular/AT&T, so if I DO get one of these phones, I'll be that much more likely to be calling you more!) 2) T-Mobile has pissed me off for what may be the last time, as despite having an 800-min/mo daytime minute calling plan, I've somehow managed to rack up in excess of $1,000USD in cellular bills in the last quarter/three months, primarily in the form of overage charges. This is exorbitant, by any measure. Thus, so-called "Rollover" minutes are a very good thing, and offered exclusively by Cingular. True, T-Mobile has a cuter spokesperson in the form of Catherine Zeta Jones, but she's been forever tainted by the hopelessly old balls of Michael Douglas anyway. I mean really, had I been the sort to open my bill every month (seriously now, who can be troubled to do THAT?), I could have switched to a 1600-2000 minute plan, AND purchased a RAZR outright, and at full retail, non-subsidized cost, no less, AND gotten myself some choice prime rib upon which to dine. Sheesh.

Anyway, to make a long story less long, In searching for the best way to procure this new toy, I came across the following: behold, the forthcoming Motorola V8 SLVR, or as I like to call it, 2005's finest mobile/cellular penis extension to date. clicky

OK, upon further reading, it seems as though this phone will not be out for several months...it will no doubt at that time carry an exorbitant price tag, and thus not really be worth spending an assload of cash on. However, the added memory expansion capability is nice, as is the newness factor. My understanding is that everyone and their brother has one of these in the larget metro markets, so the cachet is basically nonexistent. Meanwhile, the RAZR is basically down to "free after rebate", which, in this case, means $200USD unless I can remember to send in the convoluted rebate paperwork "no sooner than 180 days from activation, but no later than 210 days after activation...yadda yadda yadda." Can I remember to do this? Not real likely. So basically, the phone will cost $200, plus activation, plus figure $100/mo or so for the more suitable 1500-minute calling plan, times two for a phone for Bah also, since we'll be switching carriers. Hrm. Now is it worthwhile to try and port our beloved sequential zen-one1 and zen-one2 (don't go calling Bah, got it?) numbers over to the new phones (Hassle factor: exceedingly high, it seems, especially when combined with the necessity of purchasing two different phones (Bah doesn't need a RAZR) on a shared plan. Or do I take this opportunity to get a 704 Charlotte number?) [sigh] Such a production. Perhaps they could get me the zen-one1 within the 704 area code? Unfortunately, shared minute plans from most carriers (including T-Mobile and Cingular) require all numbers in shared account be based in the same area code and prefix area (that was awkward), so moving to 704 would preclude Bah and I from being in the same shared plan, thus negating any benefits I had of sharing with him in the first place (He uses his phone very sporadically and infrequently, so I in effect "get" all his unused daytime minutes monthly, while paying less than I would for a basic plan for him, and a separate higher-minute use plan for the both of us. Grr! I DO still prefer the flip vs. the candy bar form factor, and the advent of flip units without the protruding antenna is very enticing indeed. (As I tend to stick the phone in my pocket, and any antenna protrsion invariably gets eaten pretty quickly.)

Ugh, this is too much to have to think about. Recap of prior two week's events and Bah bombshell update tomorrow (or perhaps next week, as it's basically the weekend already.

Also, it appears that those crazy French bastards are going to attempt to build a trans-Atlantic undersea train that will do the Paris-NYC journey in around 8 hours. The website is at www.transatlantys.com. I can't find word one on it in english, and this leads me to think it's all a little shady. Construction is to begin this month, and will reportedly take 11 years. A good idea, I suppose, as the train will allegedly have niceties that the airlines can't and don't offer, such as a casino, swimming pools, and a driving range.

It all sounds like a hoax, if you ask me...

Best hair day ever...

2005-05-20T16:58:00.000-04:00

The greater Charlotte area is just plagued by hotties.

I go to get my hair cut today, I'm a few minutes late, so I walk into the salon, and my two favorite stylists, A and B (OK, maybe I like B about a hundred and eight times better, let me tell the story already!) are sitting in their respective chairs, toying with their hair. Naturally, this is too ripe an opportunity to pass up, so I remark some lame remark about how it must be nice to get paid to mess with one's own hair all day. Both their faces dour for an instant, before they look up and they light up when they realize that they get to mess with mine now as payback.

We're off to a good start. We chit chat a little while about minor nothings, and since we all had such a good time last month, I figure it's OK to flirt with object-of-my-make-out-fantasy B. They both seem to be in good spirits, and there's no one else in the place. Talk a little about travel, and the determination is made that I can't flirt with both of them while A is cutting my hair, it's too distracting. Fine, I say, B will be sole target until A finishes, then she gets a turn.

B finds a reason to remove her smock at this point, under which she's wearing this pastel striped baby tee...I just about have a coronary (all those prime ribs finally get their revenge...) but immediately notice that she's got a hot tattoo around one of her biceps...kind of played out, I know, but it works on her. I also notice that with as many times as I've seen her, I've never meen made privy to her magnificent rack...ouch. The giant mirror definitely helps in the stealth ogling department. Naturally, at this point, the flirting gets cranked to eleven.

They proceed to tell me that I should become a hairdresser. My only natural reaction is that hey, what if I have no skill cutting and styling hair? They're like "oh, it doesn't matter, plenty of stylists suck ass. You're cute, and Asian, so you'll rake in the dough." Would I need to be gay? or at least bi? "Nah, it might help, but you're good looking enough that it wouldn't matter. [swoon!] Somehow it comes up that it might help earnings if I were to dance a little, and should they go ahead and get a pole installed? I tell them no need, I know where they have poles, and what are they doing tonight? The girls giggle, and A does something where she sorta rubs my head, and I say "ooh, do that again..." She does, and I wonder aloud how nice it might be if they did it together. I'm chastized for being so bad...[sigh] (But I DID get B to fondle my head later...as I sat in her chair for the first time.) (!) [shudder]

I innocently inquire as to why B doesn't just take her "old man" to the Bahamas with her on vacation (She'd mentioned that she's going with a girlfriend...might have to find out where/when and "accidentally" be there...), and A chimes in "she doesn't have a man!" To which I respond, Hrm, what did you say your number was?" B demurely says that she's divorced, but does have a boyfriend. "Well, at the risk of repeating myself, what did you say your number was?" A remarks that it doesn't matter unless you're married, and I add, "...sometimes not even then..." The visit went on for over an hour (actual hair cutting time: 23 minutes), but it felt like the shortest amount of time I've ever been there, alas.

I so wish I had a camera with me, the mood was ideal for an impromptu photo session, the better with which to capture that heavenly baby tee and that spectacular rack. [sigh] Perhaps next month...

She also has the cutest pedicured toes, but that's an obsession for another day.

How did my haircut turn out? No clue. Don't know, don't care. Might have to go back next week and get it shaved off. [titter]

The ride over to my brother's was largely uneventful, and once again I'm faced with the reality that I can't stand beign around his kids for more than about 8-13 minutes, absolute tops. Naturally, they've completely wrecked my truck...i'ts full of dirt, unidentified kid goo, and crumbles of every substance known to mankind rubbed into every square inch of the luxurious cut pile carpeting. Ah well, I guess it IS a truck...still...grumble...

Made eye contact and elicited smiles from a few random beautiful, beautiful babies in other cars, and with one statuesque blonde walking down the street as I'm pulling out of the greengrocer's on the way home. I just love it here!

In other news, this was seen on and then subesquently misappropriated/stolen from AllthingsChristie, which was then in turn yoinked from somewhere else (BBSpot). While I'm generally against all manner of movie hype whatseover, let alone all this Star Wars silliness, but in this case, I think several of them are quite clever. I know, the originas of quite a few of them, but there are a couple I just can't place...chime in in the comments if you know the original quotes and/or their sources...

Top Eleven Misappropriated Star Wars Quotes: Episode II

11. "Sometimes you eat the wookiee, and sometimes, well, he eats you."
10. "No, Obi-Wan, I expect you to die!"
9. "One time... at clone camp..."
8. "My name is Luke Skywalker. You are my father. Prepare to die."
7. "I'm thinking about taking that new chick from Alderaan. If things go right I might be showing her my Obi-face. You know: Oh. Oh. Obi-wan."
6. "You're the Emperor? I thought you'd be taller."
5. "I'll get you, my Jedi... and your little droid R2!"
4. "Yes you did, Qui-Gon. You tried to fuck him. And Darth Maul don't like to be fucked by anybody, except Mrs. Maul."
3. "Saturday, Anakin, is Shabbos, the Jedi day of rest. That means that I don't duel, I don't get in a landspeeder, I don't ride in a landspeeder, I don't reprogram the droids, I don't turn on my lightsaber, and I sure as shit DONT FUCKING ROLL! SHOMER SHABBOS!"
2. "If you want to be a Jedi, you've got to REALLY hate the Empire"

...and number one...

"Let me put it this way. Have you ever heard of Yoda, Windu, Kenobi? Morons!"

[pause here for things to sink in, wait for chuckles of recognition. Comment.]

Bon weekend kids, play nice.

Guaranteed bad karma...

2005-05-20T02:11:00.000-04:00

Things to do tomorrow:

- Wake up at the ass crack of dawn (OK, 10 am, but still...it's early for me, goddamnit!)
- Don't be late for 12:30 haircut appointment
- Treat self to lunch in Rock Hill? What do I like that's out there? Hrm...
- Pick up Land Cruiser and trailer
- Check trailer wiring and taillights
- Root through bro's shed for palm sander, air compressor, and blower attachment bit thingie...
- Try to not get sucked into his inevitable foul mood (if he's there)
- Stop by that farmer's market in RH that I like...yummy tomatoes! And maybe bananas...
- Find out if it's cool with the ultra-picky association here to park the trailer in visitor parking overnight

Busy day tomorrow. TGIF (even though I hate that phrase) anyway though.

I need to stop eating these chocolate-covered graham cookies, or else I'm going to weigh 900#...

But they're so chocolatey delicious!

Don't know when this went up, or how old it is, but this OddTodd cartoon so perfectly exemplifies my life that it's scary. #1 outtake afterward is also hilarious.

Spoke to Rosie online a little bit ago, she informed me of an item of web news: apparently, some kid's sister's ex-boyfriend planned to rob her, but ended up killing them both. Story here. Police then used the kid's blog, (entry here) which mentioned that he (the sister's ex-boyfriend and alleged murderer) was "...already in the house. He is still here right now, smoking, walking all around the house...Hopefully he will leave soon..." to first identify the suspect, and then get him to cop to the crime. Nice work guys, nothing makes for good policework like when you need to have the victim finger the perp for you. (I love that word, "perp".)

What strikes me as really odd, is that the entry in question has 255 comments, of which, 99.9% of them say just some iteration of "RIP". Is this really necessary? Kids who don't have blogs don't get comment-field RIP wishes? Naturally, I had something to add. My comment went thusly:

Hrm, I don't think they have broadband internet access in the afterlife. All the RIP wishes and personal messages (aside from being so much electronic posturing) might be better expressed in a church somewhere. The remaining members of his family are not likely to be here reading comments. Send flowers or something!

Just a thought...let the backlash begin...

-Gene, a self- admitted blaspheming, heathen sinner...

Was that insensitive and/or in poor taste? Guess my karmic account balance just dipped into the red. In retrospect, I can see where the personal messages might have therapeutic value for the grieving. However, for people the kid didn't even know to post "RIP" comments on the blog that no one of the family will likely read, smacks of self-serving e-posturing.

Although the entry from Monday is interesting: "Life has been really hard lately...". The irony of his not knowing just how carefree his life was on Monday as compared to Thursday, or how easy things would become shortly thereafter is staggering and disturbing.

Just can't trust those Asian kids...savages! When will yellow-on-yellow violence end?

Nomadic routine...

2005-05-19T06:15:00.000-04:00

Time is a little bit like beer goggles. It can help cloud your judgement, only in retrospective as opposed to beer goggles' more immediate effects. As is the case with former girl/boyfriends, the passage of time tends to cause most people to romanticize to some extent; ask anyone about a former lover, and more often than not, the accounts will be fairly one-sided, and skew toward the positive rather than the negative. Memories fade, events are glossed-over, and stories evolve just enough to make things sound better looking back than they might actually have been.

Living in Chicago, I always liked it just fine, and when I moved to Minneapolis circa 1996 (Eden Prairie, home of the Eden Prairie Center, the mall in Mallrats) I liked it well enough there, but missed Chicago. Upon my return in 1997, I was genuinely happy to be back, and swore I'd never move away again, much less for work's sake. (Best Buy Co. ponied up the cash for my generous relo package to the Minnie.) In 2001, the theater company I was working for (on a fluke) in Chicago offered a promotional position in Hartford, CT. I had previously made it clear that I was happy where I was, and that I was a company man insofar as I could stay where I was (#2 guy at the company's flagship operation, making a relatively obscene amount of money for the little bit of work I had to do (and by "do", I mean delegate)), and that if any promotional opportunities came about where I was, that would be just fine, but I wasn't interested in moving. I was told that unless I liked doing what I was doing (since I'd be doing it forever) that it would be in my best career interests to take the promotion. Needless to say, I took the job, and moved (with a much less generous relo package) to Hartford in the fall of 2001. I hated it there. It seemed alright at the time, but the northeast to me didn't seem particularly friendly. I'd lived in the big bad city of Chicago all my life, and it took moving to Hartford for me to experience my first violent crime, an attempted carjacking/robbery in downtown Hartford. WTF? The weather was just as bad as Chicago, I was working too much and had no social outlet, work got to be a drag (as a result of personality clashes, corporate middle management shuffles, and being too close to the corporate offices), and the ultimately, the only people I ended up meeting were in NYC, a two-plus hour drive each way.

The only things I miss about Hartford:

- The absolute best wings I've ever had, from Wings Over Hartford (Hrm, maybe I need to open a franchise here...
- Utterly amazing cajun food prepared by the genuine cajun chef Armstrong at the Rajun Cajun (his family-run dive restaurant across from my theater)
- My kickass Main Street, downtown Hartford, penthouse apartment with capitol building/city view bachelor pad apartment (that I only ever got to take maybe eight? chicks to the whole time I was there, because I worked so much, damnation...(if only I had that apartment here, now, sigh...)
- Knowing the Chief of Police and just about every officer of the Hartford PD (and speeding in the town with complete impunity)
- Not having to pay for anything with cash, but movie tickets...that was sweet, since they didn't cost me anything personally (misappropriated as a perk of the position)

Once I left the theater gig, I took a couple months to travel...went to Chi for a month or so, then down to Rock Hill, SC for about a month...decided it was silly to pay exorbitant rent on an apartment I wasn't living in, plus, it'd be a good opportunity to spend some quality time with my beloved brother (ultimately a mistake, more on that another day) so got a trailer, headed up to CT, picked up my crap, and down to the Carolinas I went. I then proceeded to travel some more, for months at a time...specifically, to Atlanta, Memphis, Dallas, Chicago, and points in between.

Now that I've been away for about 2.5 years, it's been just long enough that I've forgotten some of the things I disliked about Chicago, and have perhaps inadvertently romanticized that relationship as well.

Spoke with Amy (Esq.) tonight after quite a little hiatus (we've spoken briefly in the past couple weeks, but nothing of substance...it was weeks, perhaps even months before that) and she relayed a horror story about her show business hottie baby sister and her Chicago parking ticket woes that just made me cringe in rememberance of the numberous times that I myself butted heads with the peons-that-be who live in that archetypal bureaucracy. In a nutshell, the political machine that is the Richie Daley administration has a little cash-generating operation that is otherwise known as the Department of Revenue (at least there's truth in advertising there), who in turn, controls the city's parking enforcement. They've got this whole little scam cooked up where they administer parking "rules", "laws" and "statutes", but all it basically is is a framework wherein they get to do whatever they like and take people's cars. I myself have fed several cars (of not insignificant value) and several thousand dollars' or my hard-earned (OK, well "earned) cash into said machine (I'm oversimplifying here, but I'm sure the idisyncracies have been dissected ad nauseam on other sites that I'm too lazy to look up at this point in time, and would make this already highly tangental post even more incoherent and incomprehensible; perhaps another day.) Anyway, suffice it to say, this surreal secondhand account of the three-ring circus that M's (Amy's hot sis) altercation with the DoR had become, reminded me of just how much I hated numerous aspects of life in the big city (shitty) they call the Second City: (some of which I'll no doubt explore in later entries)

- No handguns!
- Rapid/mass/public transit (I understand it's actually a pretty good system, but I still hated using it)
- The aforementioned DoR
- Absolutely HORRENDOUS 2/3rd day (5am-10pm) "rush hour" (seriously, don't try to go anywhere unless it's 3am...)
- Bah (my dad) is there, and while that's good from a pious son perspective, there's something to be said for the parental "buffer zone" extolled by Seinfeld and gang.

There are others, but my brain tires.

The point of all this is that I ended up in the CLT as a lark, a visit to my brother's gone horribly, horribly awry. Now that I've actually spent some time here (I can't believe it's been...13? months?! Crap...although that first six or so in Rock Hill really shouldn't count, as it's all the way down in SC, and I barely ever wandered North of the border, and of those six, I probably was on the road for three or four) and seen more of what life here has to offer, learned about the impending regional boom, and perhaps most importantly, built an increasingly strong social and support network of dear friends, I can honestly say that there's nowhere I'd rather be. Granted, travel to and from the area could be easier, as I believe that CLT is still one of the most expensive and inconvenient (from a flight continuity standpoint) airports to fly in and out of, but the recent arrival of a couple/few discount carriers (ATA notwithstanding, the bastards...well, not that I'd still be working for them anyway...damn those flight beneifts were tough to give up) should help alleviate that situation. Ah well, maybe start it's time to start thinking about looking at houses/lots, (and/or work as that last thing will necessitate) pretty soon, begin forming something resembling longer-range plans (insofar as my seat-of-the-pants mentality will allow) and see what happens.

Finally managed to delve into back taxes a bit, made more progress today than in the prior 7 or 8 years...however, I have now learned for a fact that while there is offically no penalty for filing late if one is due a refund, one loses any right to claim a refund three years after the original due date. In short, the last five weeks' inactivity has cost me in excess of a couple G's a week. Ouch. Expensive lessons are always the hardest learned, but my procrastination has cost me similarly on many occasion over the years, and no doubt will do so again in the future. It sucks, at times, to be lazy.

Turns out my old buddy AlanJ from way back, has taken a page from my experiences (check out the address) and started his own blogspot/blogger site, at http://vuewithin.blogspot.com. I learned this by his posting of a comment yesterday...

I've known this guy for probably about...maybe 8 years now? Perhaps longer, that number was just pulled out of the air. We basically never really talk, but clicked from the word "go", and the few times we've gotten together, have been great times...almost went into business together (remember BPS TechWorks? Haha...Where the hell is Jobe these days, anyway?) All-around good guy, seems to have a pretty interesting life (not altogether unlike myself, he shares a penchant for cars, gambling, and strippers...heck, he might even be the white version of me...hrm, actually, I'm not sure how that would work out, since I'm already basically white...), don't keep in touch with him enough...blog should make for interesting reading. Sounds like he's in a transitional stage, should try to get him down to the CLT to be a partner in crime...I'm sure we could stir up some trouble...hrm...or fire up that business idea again...hrm...

Right on AJ, it'll be good to hear about your crazy-ass shenanigans.

OK, late night munchies have gotten the better of me...a little bit of research finds that the Wings Over... people have, in addition to what is perhaps the worst web presence ever, at www.wingsover.com, a location in NC! Greenville though...266 miles by Google...and a "coming soon" store in an unspecified "Fayetteville"; let's hope they mean NC...still 135 miles, but at least it's closer than a White Castle! Road trip!

Ack! Dawn! off to bed...

Building electronics at home...

2005-05-18T04:26:00.000-04:00

Now playing: DJ Tiesto featuring Kirsty Hawkshaw - Walking on Clouds

So I got my first issue of Wired magazine today. One would think I'd be overjoyed by this, but unfortunately it's April's issue. What day is today again? oh yeah, it's the MIDDLE OF GODDAMNED MAY. Nice. It's basically two months overdue, and I've already read all the articles of importance online, (Probably of the next issue I get too) WTF? Humbug.

Cathay Pacific Airlines is running what I think is their annual All Asia Pass promo again, and damned if it isn't kicking up my wanderlust...basically, the premise is for $1099, you can fly from NYC, San Francisco, LA, Vancouver, or Toronto to Hong Kong, then have 21 days of unlimited travel to 17 Asian cities. Added-cost options include service-class upgrades, pass extension to 30/45/60/90 days, and added destinations (Australia, China, India, New Zealand, Sri Lanka, or Vietnam.) Sigh.

Been thinking about building a couple/few cantennas, just for the hell of it, and to see what I can learn from the process. What's a cantenna, you ask? Basically, it's a ghetto style homemade high-gain directional antenna made from tin cans and other random crap. I like the idea, primarily because it seems to be the perfect combination of the following:

-Ghetto hacks
-Backyard/redneck jury-rigging knowhow
-Geek black magic (math/science)

With just a dash of Mr. wizard-type hey,-you could-maybe-really-fry-your-ass electrocution potential.

Here are some links (when you google "cantenna"):

Linky one
Linky deux
Linky san
Linky quatre
Linky V

Spent the evening with T, headed out to meet a friend of hers at a bar in Rock Hill. Unfortunately, there were nowhere near as many Winthrop college-age hotties as last time. Did, however have a fabulous evening, complete with stimulating discussion on relevant topics and everything!

In other news, my old (in that we've been seeing one another for a while, not that she's old) girlfriend had a date with my new girlfriend, and because my cell phone has recently seen fit to not continue to work, even in it's previous slipshod fashion, I had to hear about it on a voicemail message at 3am. grr. Overnight is a long time to wait for news of this magnitude and bi hotness...all I know is that it involved a 4-hour "dinner" (albeit at a public dining establishment, so likely no funny business. Although knowing these two, anything's possible...) followed by a digestif parking lot make-out session...hrm...Although the caveat is that I've not spoken to either party involved, I've pieced this account together from the collective information I received back from the private investigators I hired to individually follow both of them. Developments as they occur.

I think they're doing better with one another than I did with either of them individually. Where's the justice in that?

Well, off to bed to dream of girlfriend sandwiches...I'm sorry, did that come out sounding tawdry?

Mad props to the ATL...

2005-05-17T05:25:00.000-04:00

Well, busy weekend as usual, and also as usual, I've come home too late and too tired (further exacerbated by coming home and chatting/flirting for several hours with my new best friend) to do a real post...so instead, updates and/or weekend synopsis will have to wait until tomorrow, and in it's stead, I humbly sumbit this reconstituted (that is to say altered to make sense within this context) comment, originally left on a friend's blog. It's about my first strip club experience ever, which happened to take place in that fair city, and my subesquent love for it. original post in italics, enjoy. (My notes here non-italicized)

OMG, I [heart] Kenna!(Kenna was mentioned in her post.)

I also [heart] the ATL. Went to my first strip club ever there, yessir. I was there on business, opening Best Buy # 513, Northlake (?), when my partner in crime, this middle aged guy from OH named Mike, suggested we go. The Goldrush showbar, yes indeed. Once there, I proceeded to break the cardinal rule of strip clubs, and that is I promptly developed a crush on the first girl who danced for me. In this case, a statuesque blonde named Tabitha. I spent every available moment (over the next couple days, anyway) at that club, along with every available dollar of my per diem, and then some. I did end up figuring out that I was being a complete and total ass about the whole thing, and thankfully, came to my senses prior to my departure of that fair city. To this day, I still have a weakness and unnatural affinity for dancers...[sigh]... (I really do seem to have a thing for dancers...go figure...)

I'm listening to Kenna - Love Hate Sensation now in tribute to your weekend.

It should be noted that I also had the misfortune of being out there at the exact week of "Freaknik", or, as it was explained to me, black spring break. And then we decided to hit Atlanta Underground, an underground mall that's apparently predominantly frequented by patrons of a darker persuasion to begin with, hilarity and madness ensued, but I think that's a story for another day.

I've been meaning to officially link to this site for a while now, as I've read it on and off for a bit, and find it consistently amusing and enlightening, AllThingsChristie. To say that she's a hottie Canadian geek chick with a blog would be to do her a grave injustice, but yet not at all affect it's truth content. It'll be on the sidebar from here on out, read it, enjoy it, check out other links in the sidebar, these are the people to whom I look for inspiration. Or something like that...

Wardrobe malfunction of the week goes to Sophie Marceau, who is actually (and for a refreshing change,) hot...thank god this finally happend with someone who's marginally attractive (OK, maybe notsomuch in that second linked photo, but overall, definitely as compared to Tara and Janet...) and has breasts (or even a breast) that I'd want to see! Yay Sophie, you're still hot, and now a even a little inadvertently slutty.

I'm not what one would call a Paris Hilton fan, but I love Hardee's/Carl's Jr. burgers (yum), and this just makes me want one all that much more. And it's nice eye candy.

Oh yeah, and by way of completely random yet edgy thought of the day that goes in the blog for shock value and/or comedic effect, racial equality will never exist in a world where someone can say "big black cock" (in whatever context really, it doesn't matter all that much) and be taken seriously, but not "big yellow cock" and not be laughed out of the room. That's a hypothetical, by the way. Maybe.

More tomorrow...

Really just F-ing (effing?) WEIRD...

2005-05-13T03:25:00.000-04:00

Ok, so I finally get around to googling the term "vueaskew" just to see what there is to see. No big surprise when only five resulting links come up. However, one that's listed doesn't look familiar, at "blogshares.com":

http://www.blogshares.com/blogs.php?blog=http://vueaskew.blogspot.com%2F

It looks like a stock ticker entry, but my blog is the commodity in question. Upon closer inspection, it appears as though my blog's valuation is 1000 blog dollars, divided by a total outstanding share count of 5000, for a per-share price of 20 blog cents.

A quick link to their homepage reveals that "BlogShares is a fantasy stock market for weblogs. Players get to invest a fictional $500, and blogs are valued by incoming links." Hrm.

What's amazing here is that there's an automated tracking system in place to keep tabs on all these blogs...and this is all happening automatically...how bizarre is that? Naturally, my interest is piqued, as it's all fascinating, so I look up some of the blogs of those I know, and it's pretty interesting the way this works.

D's blog ($3,150 high, currently $1,000) and Practicing Hedonists ($1,122) both have/had higher valuations than I do, [partly] because I link (or linked) to their sites, but Rosie and Capricious Acumen aren't even represented. The Superficial ($126.233), Rollertrain ($33,048), News of the Weird (Daily) ($2,855), Hedonistica ($1,409), and even AllThingsChristie ($1,356, a link I'll be adding to the sidebar soon...funny stuff) are MUCH higher, due primarily to the nature of those sites and the fact that they're a lot more established, and thus have link traffic both in and out.

It appears that my blog was added to the index on January 05, 2005, at 18:21, and D's was added 40 miutes later, a 19:01, though she started hers months before I did. Practicing Hedonists was added sometime in February, a couple weeks after he started it in January.

Hrm, more research is called for, and I've registered as a user on that site. This could be very interesting, and I feel a whole new level of time sinkholeness coming on...

Incidentally, to check any blog's value, or if it's in the system at all, just follow this link:

http://www.blogshares.com/blogs.php?blog=http://vueaskew.blogspot.com%2F

then replace the vueaskew.blogspot.com in the nav bar to any blog address you want. Post interesting finds in the comments, if you so desire...I can seriously totally see myself wasting all kinds of time on this...

Ooh, it's Friday the thirteenth [insert lame Jason Voorhees reference]...

Police blotter fodder...

2005-05-12T06:20:00.000-04:00

Police blotter news...

Sunday, May 08, 2005:

Huntersville: An exceptionally well-endowed Asian man, 32, was arrested today after an extended police chase on northbound interstate 77. Gene Chang, a transient, was observed traveling at a high rate of speed, according to NC state police. Upon further research, it was discovered that he was not in possession of a valid driver's license, registration, or documentation of any kind. Mr. Chang allegedly has outstanding warrants in several states, and a lottery system will be in effect to determine order and priority of extradition.

Needless to say, that's not exactly what happened, but Trooper Emmons was really cool about the whole deal (despite the fact that I'd just lost my money clip and only had a Sam's Club card by way of ID), and rather than arresting me, issuing the five or six tickets he should have, and effectively making any sexual interactions I might be having that day exclusively male, he graciously knocked my speeding charge down to 84 in a 65, and driving without an NC operator's license, and sent me on my merry (albeit cranky) way. Oddly enough, getting stopped only served to lighten my mood...Not all the way, though, and ultimately, I arrived at the resort in dour spirits. The rest of Sunday went swimmingly, with many precious moments of friendly bonding, and it was soon after my arrival that my outlook changed greatly and for the better.

Monday consisted of a late rising, some picking up of post-party disaster, and a lovely Mother's Day dinner with dear friends. Jeffrey's in Mooresville has a succulent New York Strip with a particularly tasty gorgonzola bacon glaze, a light and nutty/citrus-y tilapia filets, and an exceedingly juicy spinach-and-brie stuffed pork chops. The patio was fantastically suited to the absolutely amazing day, and in all, it was a wonderful experience.

Spent Tuesday afternoon/evening with the lovely Ms. T, wherein lovely conversation was had, and a late-ish trip to Midtown was called for. Their buffalo shrimp was an utter disaster, with six little anemic shrimp vying for attention on a large bed of shredded lettuce. The crumbled bleu cheese sprinkled atop them was fine, but they themselves were overcooked, the breading was soggy, and the hot sauce was tepid at best. Fortunately, however, we inadvertently picked half-price wing night to cruise in, and a frighteningly large platter of barbalo (Bar-B-Q/Buffalo mix) wings was designated, delivered, and devoured. Yum.

Soylent Green...is people! I saw this film last night, after hearing about it many, many years ago. Charlton Heston, even in his heyday, was not an attractive man. Nor was Chuck Connors, for that matter...now the chick, Leigh Taylor-Young, is kind of hot even 32 years later...she reminds me of someone, but I can't quite place who...we should remake this movie with William Shatner in the lead...and with far less shittiness. Seriously, I was led to believe that this was a much better movie than it was, but the effects were crappy, the acting was crappy, the storyline and premise were crappy, flow was bad, and just flat all around.

So I downloaded the pilot episode of "The Ultimate Fighter", a reality show featuring hottie Willa Ford (with whom I've wanted to do filthy things for years now) as the host. The premise of the programme is that sixteen mixed-martial arts fighters live in a house, a la The Real World, complete with requisite drama, while individuals are eliminated until two are left, one in each of two weight classes, and these two individuals will then assume a "three-year, six figure" UFC contract. Woo friggen hoo. Go on a crappy reality show, sell your anonymity for the mere 12.5% chance of "winning" a contract worth just over $33K/yr? Fuck that shit. Hell, I don't even like most sports, let alone so-called "ultimate" fighting.

With that being said, the show itself looks somewhat promising (in it's way) in the first episode, even though Willa's featured in all of about 60 seconds of footage. Granted, she looks fantastic, and is dressed in a suitably slutty fashion, with some manner of cleavage-baring, ass-clinging, ab-exposing, leg-flashing, or hip-hugging low rise, deep v, cutoff, too small, or generally inadequate attire. Just enough to get the male audience drooling. To make a long story short, I've become inadvertently hooked on the show, if for nothing else, a pedestrian curiosity to see who the last two are. Plus, there's a ton of the requisite reality-show drama, joy.

It really amazes me that no matter how seemingly original the premise of the show is, ultimately (no pun), they fall back on the cookie-cutter reality show formulas and devices. It's almost inspiring how true to the recipe they are too, perverting even the most straightforward of ideas in order to bend it to the format of the reality magic bullet, ah well. Although I will say I wish I was the president, this Dana White guy (in the suit in the above photo.) I don't know the first thing about him, as I've not done any research whatsoever, so any or all of this is conjecture and I could be completely wrong. Here's this guy, who's clearly not the sharpest knife in the drawer (nor even the second sharpest), who's basically invented a sport and the marketing machine to go around it. Now he's rich, with a relatively high profile, and assloads of cash. Nice. I need to invent a highly marketable sport. Hrm...

Stayed up way too late (to the tune of 8am), as stated in yesterday's non-post post, watching the macho show, Soylent Green, and playing that maddening air hockey game. As a result, happened to sleep in until just after 3pm, with a complete inability to wake up and de-fog from the grip of slumber.

Meet T for dinner, cruise over to the SouthPark area for patio goodness at the Village Tavern, where the nice black girl at the patio hostess station politely informs us that they "don't quote wait times". Lovely.

"Well, off the record, miss, what would you guess (as an industry-trained professional) would be a rough pull-it-out-of-your-ass ballpark guess as to what you might think our wait time could potentially think about being?"

"Sir, we don't quote wait times."

"Outstanding, thanks for your help and wisdom."

As it turns out, the reason they don't quote wait times is because mankind has no timing mechanism where the increments are long enough that she might be able to express them to me in a convenient manner. The place has an absolutely gigantic area, but an obscene shortage of tables. They invite us to sit an any of the numerous chairs (no shit, there must have been fifteen thousand chairs not associated with "official" tables), where we could still order drinks and/or appetizers, but not a meal, heavens no. I mean WTF, really? would it kill them to get more tables? They've already got the real estate, the chairs, and the waitstaff, why make patrons wait two hours for a "table"? And you'd think that with this dearth of horizontal surfaces at serving/eating level, they'd hustle a little at clearing and turning the tables. Not so. I've seen slugs and sloths move with more efficiency than these guys. Not that I'm bitter. So we cursed the campers, people who'd gotten their checks hours ago, but were still sitting around gabbing away. Naturally, this just made us want to do the same thing once we were seated, and I'm happy to say that we became those very same bastards a short (ok, not really short at all) time later.

Once we were seated, the meal was nothing short of amazing. The day and weather was perfectly magnificent, the entertainment/performer was absolutely terrible, food was delicious, I can't wait to go back.

We shared some crab dip and crab cakes, both of which I thought were heavenly (need to learn how to make those items), the blackened mahi mahi special, and a gargantuan slab of prime rib, followed by the most decadent chocolate torte I've ever seen. I'm having a coronary right now thinking about it all.

What we initially thought was a "band" setting up, was apparently the guy who was an actor, then used to do those Dodge commercials where he'd walk around the cars going on and on about something (no, not Ricardo Montalban, a white guy), but has now decided to pursue his love for mangling classic elevator music type songs. Our first red flag was a stirring rendition of what I finally figured out was Billy Joel's "Piano Man". Played on a guitar. Nice. He continuted to butcher otherwise classic songs, form all manner of innocent artists like Sting, Steely Dan, Journey, Cat Stevens, the Beatles and lord only knows who else. I think my next TV show pitch will be a reality show where music lovers will be put on an island with this guy, and he'll play beloved songs that the contestants will repeatedly and incorrectly try to guess in vain, then at the end of the weekly show, the person with the most pathetic guesses will be unceremoniously be fed to sharks, then the requisite hottie of the show (what's Willa Ford doing these days?) will win a trip to Monte Carlo with me.

Upon the return home, lounged, chatted, then watched Ali G Indahouse, featuring the deliciously yummy Rhona Mitra, seen below...

Film itself was predictably lame, but did have some redeeming moments (seen above, two more photos here and here) and occasional funny bits. The vernacular of the quasi-hip British Ali is almost worth seeing(/hearing) in and of itself.

In the Art-Imitates-Life-(Or-is-it-the-other-way-around)-Department, it appears that Dave Chappelle has become one of his crazy-ass skits by flying to South Africa, checking into a nuthouse there, and screwing the proverbial pooch on the Season 3 Chappelle's Show launch scheduled for the end of month. Way to blow $50 mil, Dave...hope your contract had the usual "crazy clause/rider" written in. But I can't say I blame the guy, you wouldn't wanna be seen in, let alone be admitted to one of those crappy asylums, in say, North Africa or somewhere crazy like the U.S. or Europe, I hear they're dumps run by quacks. I guess this means Rick James and Charlie Murphy will be parodying you on Comedy Central next year...it was fun while it lasted, eh?

"I'm Dave Chapelle, bitch! Fuck yo psychiatrist couch! Darkness!"

Talk about your time sinkholes...

2005-05-11T06:28:00.000-04:00

No post today, as I've been up too late doing this. And watching stupid inane train wreck reality shows. More on that later.

Yawn.

Longish weekend...

2005-05-09T23:56:00.000-04:00

OK, please to forgive on the lack of posts since last week, it's been an exceptionally busy several days:

So they're resealing and restriping the parking lot at my inner-city housing project, and naturally, wherever a public project like that intersects with my life, havoc ensues. Project was supposed to be finished in two days, but due to rain on the second day, they took an extra day. Fine, except that I have to park like a block away and walk over to the car every time I need to go out. Then, when they finally get the job done, and there's allkinds of things wrong with the job (in my opinion): one of my stripes (the one on the left) is painted in two strokes instead of one (with a visible and unsightly overlap zone), and is perhaps as a result, crooked. It also extends beyond the chalk line where all the other lines end, and is thus about 8 inches too long. There's a dollop of tar/asphalt that uncannily resembles a turd melted and solidified in a spot directly behind my right rear tire. The numbers are all painted willy-nilly: the stencils they use are incinsistent from space to space (there seem to be no fewer than three "2" stencils, some of which may or may not be upside-down "5"s, two different "8"s, two different "1"s, at least two different "7"s, basically it appears they just mixed and matched a couple/few sets of stencils and went crazy with no regard for continutity or uniformity. My inner OCD/anal retentive persona is mortified. And I'm constantly reminded of how much it bothers me every time I park my car. Grr! Deep breaths, calm blue oceans...gotta let go...

Thursday, Cinco de Mayo, was somewhat eventful; Numerologists will tell us it was 05.05.05 (05^3?), one of those interesting dates to write...Geeky, I know, but hey. Fitness Kel stopped by quasi-unannounced (she still has keys to the place and will drop things off for the roommate), in that she tried calling me, but I'm having service issues with my cell phone (no voicemail and inability to send text messages...receiving them is working), and she wasn't able to reach me. As a result, she comes walking up the stairs as I'm sitting around in my bixers, watching TV and chowing down on cold pasta. Nice. Had a lovely chat with her, then bid her godspeed on her road trip to the ATL for the Mother's day weekend. Visited with L for a bit shortly thereafter, then met T out for drinks...got to meet her friend Theresa (Teresa?), who is supposed to be this wild child. Sure enough, by the time I get there around 11pm, she's stumbly drunk and will not shut up about how gorgeous I am and is it okay with T if she kisses me (repeat 5x). Anyway, it was a good time regardless, and quite amusing to boot.

T spends the night, as she's off Friday, and we enjoy the day together. Dined at a waterfront (Lake Wylie) place just over the border into SC, T-Bones. Quite a nice establishment, the crab dip was delicious, accompanied by absolutely heavenly garlic bread. My mushroom swiss burger was quite sad, however. No more than eight sorry little pieces of canned mushrooms, sitting forlornly atop the most anemic hamburger patty I've seen since the Chicago public shool system. Yum! Afterwards, took a walk down to the marina on the NC side of the bridge, singlehandedly resurrecting my desire and intense need to get a boat, or at least get in with some people who also want one. A medium-sized (23' or so) cabin cruiser, ideally. But I digress...

Friday evening, we decide to stop by the club to see what's going on, but it's completely dead, not a thing going on. We cut out after a little over an hour, and head over to my new favourite hangout, The Graduate, a bar and grill near my place. We'd been there the night before after parting ways with Theresa/Teresa and her date, and there we were served by a most delectable young (mere weeks away from her 21st birthday) thing named Michelle. Due to my inability to hear people, combined with a need to flirt with any girl with a cute ass, when I couldn't hear her say her name, I made a tremendous project out of asking her to repeat it (I swear, she said "Mick-elle" the first few times). So much so that she quickly became exasperated, turned around, scooted up her shirt, and pointes at the very poorly-inscribed "Michelle" tattoo on the small of her back. It's at this point that I notice she's got these cute little ass dimples, and is wearing what may well be the shirtest, clingiest shorts in the tri-county area. I'm absolutely stunned, and make it a point to either ask her to show us the tattoo every time she walks by, or pull her shirt up a little whenever she's bent over to help or speak to the couple at the table next to ours. To her credit, she didn't once slap me or threaten to have us forcibly removed. At one point, I even went so far as to tell her that she shouldn't take this the wrong way, and I'm normally not this much of a pervish clod, but those are the hottest shorts I've ever seen in my adult life, and she should be allowed to wear nothing but them for as long as we both shall live. To my utter disbelief, rather than clocking me, she replies, "Why thanks, I do wear them for a reason, you know". Upon our return the next night, we sit at the same booth, but are helped by another waitress. However, I don't feel that this should preclude me from stopping her every time she walks by, and continue with the shirt thing every time she helps this same table next to us. Life is good.

Saturday is devoted to catching up on a few things here and there...cooked a little, did some laundry, got a couple tasks completed, lounged a little, met T to head to the club at around nine, got ready and arrived at a little before 10. Not super busy, but a good crowd, saw some acquaintances, hung out, generally had a good time. Drank a bit, smoked a little and was generally feeling pretty good. Finally got home around 7am, where I promptly crashed and slept til noon.

Sunday, prior to leaving for the LKN, was looking for my digital camera, when I remembered that I'd loaned it to the roommate to take some pictures at a wedding on Friday, but she's gone out of town for the Mother's day holiday. I call the number where she's staying to ask if my camera was here where I could still grab it and bring it with, but there's no answer. Grr. Decide to take the bike up the the resort, head over to Fitness Kel's (remember, she's out of town) to see if there was a roommate (she's got four, I think) around to let me in the garage. No go. I try calling her to see if there's a home phone I can call to just get someone to let me in the garage for 10 seconds! Also no luck. Grrrrr. By now, an hour's gone by, and I'm going to be late to the ball. So I'm feeling pretty cranky at every plan being defeated for any number of reasons, at what seems like every turn. One thing that always calms me down is small bursts of speed on the interstate. 30+ mile drive to LKN, I should be feeling pretty good, traffic's there, but not badly congested or slowing down, I'm ducking in and out of cars, going at several intervals, well in excess of 100 MPH, when what should I notice rushing up [FAST] in my rearview, but a black Camaro...with the reverse stencil on the hood "ecilop etats". Lovely.

Story continues (and spelling/grammar/punctuation fixes) tomorrow...stay tuned (well, check back then, anyway...no tuning to be had here...)

Del cincoest de mayos...

2005-05-05T05:23:00.000-04:00

Oh yeah,...in my sleepy haze last (last last?) night, (it must have been good though, there are still piles of clothes scattered everywhere...yeesh!) I forgot to report that a disproportionate number of readers seemed to get hooked on the Crimson Room "puzzle", so here's the next room, the Viridian Room...I haven't done this one yet because I find the whole experience maddening, but since y'all seem to enjoy it, i'll give it up (I'm easy like that). Mikey worked on it on and off for part of today, and he said it's even less rewarding than the first one to finish.

Alos, I had the weirdest of dreams yesterday...so very vivid, but since it was like 16 hours ago, I've just about forgotten it all...I was in a deserted darkish grocery store type place, maybe a butcher shop (been watching too much Sopranos), and some unknown person was disposing of a body or bodies, some of which may have been moving...they tried to explain it away by saying it was for Soylent Green, which made little or no sense, (heard of the film, but never seen it, downloading as we speak/I type) so I needed to get the hell out of Dodge, something something, then arguing pretty fiercely with my brother. Weird. When I got my wake-up call at 11:30am ish, I was thoroughly discombobulated for a good couple of minutes. My caller suggested that it was aftereffects of the E, esp when it's particularly good/potent, but I dunno...could it be? Here it was very nearly 72 hours later...hrm...need to research it a bit...

Two great posts on Rollertrain today (and yesterday), read them for big laughs and poignant insight. Read the comments for my inane remarks.

Spoke with my dear Eurobuf today, think I got her convinced to start a blog, as we don't talk nearly enough...hopefully, this will be a way for us to keep up on one another's adulterous (I think she's a bit against the use of that word) dalliances...here's to hoping that she (we) can convince her to make it public. In honour of her creation of the account, I've inserted a link under the "co-conspirators" heading to the right. It doesn't work yet, but we're looking to change that...

Also spoke with the lovely E today, apparently she's joined the ranks of the auburn locked beauties in my life of late...what is it with all the redheads all of a sudden? Also looks as though we're still on for next weekend, I'm looking forward to having her up. Spoke a bit on random things here and there, she drops me a couple photos, and we call it a night. I need to find her a deal on a fare to Chicago for a weeeknd in June, if it wasn't over a weekend, I'd offer to go with, as I'm still overdue on a visit myself, but eh, I'll get around to it...

Had quite a lengthy IM conversation with Hottie Asian (California) Jen (remember her?!), neither of us has been great with calling and/or keeping in touch, but apparently she's been without internet for the last couple months...still, good to reconnect with her, hope it sticks this time...

Linky love: (or "More shit ganked from Rosie's old posts")

-I about pissed myself watching this flash animation...it's like OddTodd's take on nuclear holocaust...too funny! (Especially all the colloquial vernacular...FU, STFU, WTF, dude, 'sup, "The Chinese sons of a bitches!", etc.
-Semi-amusing (yet mortifying) Lip-syncing Asian boys. (Page loads kinda wonky...alternately, try this link. I think these guys are Chinese (Probably Taiwanese, which is even scarier...I'm fairly certain this is meant to be satirical, but goddamn, it's seriously mortifying to watch...consider yourself warned...At least they don't have perms...

OK, guess that's it for now...

Grr, the concurrent user tool to the right seems to be broken, how ghetto. Hrm, now I'm a liar, as it appears to be working again...tres bizarre...

Now running through the 'pod: Tweak featuring Robina - Watching You (12" Mix)

May Day & other commie devices...

2005-05-04T03:50:00.000-04:00

One of my favourite lines in the classic film, Office Space, goes something like this:

Peter Gibbons (Ron Livingston, in the performance of his career): So I was sitting in my cubicle today, and I realized, ever since I started working, every single day of my life has been worse than the day before it. So that means that every single day that you see me, that's on the worst day of my life.
Dr. Swanson (Some guy I don't recognize from anything, ever.): What about today? Is today the worst day of your life?
Peter Gibbons: Yeah.
Dr. Swanson: Wow, that's messed up.

My life thus far this year is kind of like that, but at the other end of the spectrum. Every weekend you see me, that's the best weekend of my life. This past weekend was no exception, with the pathetic lack of posts over the last several days as my most readily visible proof. That and I'm still unemployed. And my taxes are still nowhere near completed. However, many heights were reached, limits were explored (!), and firsts were racked up, and ultimately, isn't that all that really matters? While I can't say that no animals were harmed in the making of this weekend, (rest in peace, little junior opossum) I can say that his (yes, I'm sure it was a he, thanks) demise was through no action on the part of any of our band of merry revelers.

Awoke at a leisurely hour on Saturday, made a call to confirm tentative afternoon plans, and headed out to enjoy the simply gorgeous weather and some very fine company. Spent the day alternating between basking in the glory of the day, preparing a leisurely meal, and discussing some of the life-altering events of the past fiscal quarter-and-a-third.

That evening found us at the club with the usual suspects, minus our brave and adventurous creative director, Skip, who was at the time taking his chances with battling the elements in a tube of aluminum some might call a private jet (bastard!), living it up (bastard!) like the proverbial rock star (and by that, I mean shouldering the terrible burden of being surrounded by scantily-clad, borderline anorexic women making out in largely unsuccessful (and transparent, but no less hot) attempts to curry favour with car-show judges...it's a rough life, non? (Bastard! But thanks for taking pictures, Skippy)) And I'm the one people think is the drug dealer. Please. But I digress. After several weeks of a somewhat "off" energy at said club, things seemed to be very much back in the full swing of things. Attendance was way up, the crowd was largely good-looking, friendly, and familiar, yet new at the same time. Met some new people, got reacquainted with others, vigorously probed (and with twice the normal concurrent diligence) the depths of certain relationships, with exceptionally copious and pleasing results, all aboveboard and without any shady backdoor shenanigans whatsoever.

At this point, I should probably also make note that my prior observations on the effectiveness and/or cross effects of the alc/E/V cocktail were perhaps a bit premature (at best, completely unscientifically derived at worst, and in either instance, should be immediately discarded,) and that more research will definitely be needed. Developments as they occur; procedures and control groups must be planned and organized...

A couple three new prospects were unearthed, and the coming weeks will tell which, if any should come to fruition. (Fingers crossed here)

Witnessed some drama among some other peripheral acquaintances, but being the friends we were, we jumped in after the fact to see what could be salvaged of the regrettable situation. This relates to some extent to the last paragraph.

6am came far too quickly though, and the drive back to the resort post-party was an excercise in multitasking, as one of our newfound friends was intent on testing the limits of Skip's and my navigational/focus-on-the-job-at-hand abilities, and my ability to drive with no hands, keep the rubber side down, not exchange paint with the 'hoe, and master the art of digital still/motion photography, all while maintaining some semblance of normalcy on a phone conversation, and not draw the attention of the boys in blue. I did pretty damn well, if I do say so myself: 'hoe and ghetto fabulous Lex made it away unscathed, phone and digicam didn't get chucked out the window, photos turned out pretty damn fine (again, by no one's determination but my own,) and I got a decent story out of the deal. While the story value in and of itself probably doesn't beat the time when I drove my 5-speed stick shift Datsun 280ZX while on the phone, eating an ice cream cone (soft serve), and approaching a toll booth without any change (and this is before the i-Pass or any sort of electronic collection device), the pictures and memories of this particular instance were MUCH more memorable. (I wish I could show you, really!)

This weekend also wins the dubious award for "Latest night out", with the last survivors of our Saturday night group (myself included) finally crashing at something like 12:45-1:00pm Sunday afternoon. However, being a recovery Sunday, being up again at around 3pm, however difficult and contraindicated, seemed to have little to no effect on the partygoers' collective staminas.

Sunday recovery efforts were well-received by all that I'm aware of, with stellar performances from J (of the J^2s, and miss strawberry (She needs a new moniker, that's too much of a pain to type) with her exceptionally cutely filled-out polka dots [shudder]. Really, I wish I could show you pictures.

Party to the wee hours, crash, head back early afternoon Monday, and the proceed to do absolutely and completely nothing. No blog entry, no late Sunday paper reading, no movie, no TV, nothing. Well, I did manage to rent a 16X dual-layer +- R/RW DVD burner from CompUSA, and went ahead and started moving some of this glut of internet-sourced TV programs to DVD (Sopranos S1-5, Scrubs S1-4, the full Futurama series S1-5, etc.)

Tuesday morning (just barely) finds me in good spirits, catching up on some e-mail, a couple phone calls, and a reconnection with the lovely Ms. T. She and I have barely spoken in a week, after a torrid and very prolific first couple of weeks, and she demonstrated admirable restraint in not having chased me down, despite my very insensitive lack of any calls or correspondences whatsoever. Fortunately for me, she's free for the evening, and we make plans to head out for an evening, and meet up with a friend/co-worker of hers at a bar in Downtown Rock Hill she frequents. So THIS is where all the Winthrop college hotties hang out. For a podunk dive bar in the middle of a deserted quasi-downtown area, this place was packed to the rafters with hotties.

Great time, very glad to see T after a considerable absence, here's to hoping that this month as the rest of the year is filled with balance and happiness. Lord knows I should be the absolute last one to hope for more and better luck, but eh...whatever works.

With that, I'm off to bed, kiddies...take care of one aonther, and we'll see y'all soon...

-Gene

Don't do IQ tests late at night...

2005-04-30T04:55:00.000-04:00

I hate you, Rosie.

I get home, thinking I'd just check my e-mail and hit the sack...catch up on a couple blogs, yadda yadda. I get to Rosie's blog, and she goes on to say what a fun time she had doing this puzzle, and here's the premise: You're a guy trapped in a room, and you have to find 13 items, put them to use together in a certain manner to get out of this room. So naturally, I can't pass up the chance to prove how smart I am (yeah yeah, I know you actually ahve to be smart to be able to effectively do that, it all sounds so obvious NOW...) Here's the alleged breakdown:

You find:

0-6 items, your IQ is very low
6-8 items, your IQ is low
9-10 items, your IQ is average
11-12 items, your IQ is high
13 items found and get out of the room, there are less than 4000 people in the world can do it.

I totally don't buy the 4000 people schtick. Nor do I particularly think it's an effective measurement, as it seems to me that it's just a lot of random and repetitive clicking around. That being said, I found 11 items in about 5-8 minutes, and got so angry that I couldn't get any further, that I invested even more time on it, finally getting to 12 items before I ahd to IM Rosie and ask her to help. She gave me a couple hints, and I was able to finally get through it. I accept that I'm not a supergenius like she is. I'm perfectly fine with my self-imposed title of subgenius. &%$#@! 'tard pseudo IQ tests. I swear, I don't even know why I do them, they just end up pissing me off...

My head hurts, I'm going to bed...

Obrigado, D...

2005-04-29T03:13:00.000-04:00

Good day today, got to spend some quality time with the woman of the hour, my interminably beloved D...The wheels are in motion, groundwork is being laid (teehee), and grand plans are being hatched! It's going to be an amazing summer/year...

(Thanks to Mo for playing along and making tonight possible...love ya baby!)

OK, now to provide some content for all the other readers: ;)

Taxes got exactly no attention today. The pile of associated papers moved from their place of rest to the active workspace, my bed, spent the day there completely undisturbed, then were carefully transported back to their place of rest, perhaps to be neglected all weekend. Made a pot a marinara sauce, which turned out pretty well, if I do say so myself. If you're in the greater Charlotte metro area, come on by for a plate/bowl of chinese noodles (beats the pants off western pasta) with yummy marinara. Mmm. Meaty goodness, and tomato-y! Yum!

Lounged on the veranda, marveled at the day and quality of life in general, chatted on IM and the phone, watched a couple episodes of Good Eats with Alton Brown...this guy has the best cooking show on TV today, in my opinion. He gives not only the how-to, but the why, the science behind the cooking, foods, ingredients, and tools/procedures, including visual aids where necessary, so that though you may not want to make what he's making on the show, it's great general cooking knowledge, that when added to your repertoire, makes for better improvisational cooking, and helps us all to be better cooks. Yum.

Watched Season 01, Episode 01 of Scrubs, and I think I'm officially crushing on the dreamily lovely Ms. Chalke. Yum. Hair tied up, wearing scrubs, with those glasses on? Ouch. The writing's pretty good too, even from the pilot...not bad for a sitcom. Pretty much love any dialogue where they properly use the phrase "For the LOVE OF GOD!"

Had a wonderful conversation with L on the state of the union, projections, and the general direction of things to come...planning, preparing, and plotting...conspiring to being smaller groupings of good together to form larger, happier groupings of wonder...again, it's going to be a fabulous summer/year for all I think...big things are afoot. It could be a very good time to be in the Queen City (I hate that moniker). Also chatted briefly with the always lovely J, It's been far far too long since we've had one of our way-too-late-for-a-schoolnight conversations. I do so cherish them.

Supposed to have lunch with some friends tomorrow, but they're saying they want to meet in Concord, which is like 40 miles away...WTF?! Being that it's very nearly 3am, I'm thinking I won't be up in time. We'll see...Why the hell couldn't they have decided on somewhere around here?! Sheesh.

*Yawn* More soon (maybe...it's shaping up to be a busy weekend...)

Obrigado!

Scrubbing in...

2005-04-27T23:21:00.000-04:00

Unattributed IM quote of the day, on the topic of my blog:

"Darn, it's too large for me to open/read through my cell."
"Ugh, everything about you is big."

Nice. I think she means that I could stand to lose a few pounds...

A certain someone recommended that I catch last night's episode of Scrubs. Mainly becasue it's an irreverently funny programme, but also because one of the characters reminds of them of another certain someone I know. True to form, the two episodes I downloaded (season 04, episodes 23 and 24) were hilarious. Some aspects of the show are a bit annoying, as any sitcom, but all told, the net result is pretty funny.

Sarah Chalke, yum. (Photo courtesy of/stolen from IMDB)

Two prominent hotties (that I could tell from the two episodes) were featured: Sarah Chalke and Christa Miller from the Drew Carey Show (who, in the few moments I saw her, looked MUCH better than she ever did on the Drew Carey Show.) For some unknown reason, I dig the name Christa, but don't care for it spelled Krista, go figure. I think that Judy Reyes was also cast as a borderline hottie, but she really doesn't do it for me.

They definitely let you know that it's a comedy though, by saying absurd things like "I really like you, Elliott, but I'm an adult, and I want this to be an adult relationship - if you want to be patient and not have sex right away, that's fine." I mean come on, who would say that in real life? What guy? Nigga, PLEASE.

Well, it's now again just before midnight, and all that's happened to my taxes is that the W2s and 1099s have been divided into chronological (then name, then company) order. Of course, that took place yesterday prior to T's arrival. So the net result of a day set aside to do taxes, thus far, is absolutely nil. What I did get done was to download the 1981 BBC miniseries of The Hitch Hikers Guide To The Galaxy and watch it in it's entirety. Good way to bring myself up to speed on the basic storyline, I'd forgotten some of it. However, it was dated in it's appearance and it's low budgetedness. All in all though, pretty true to what I remember of the books, which in turn were adapted from the BBC radio series. All iterations of this particular story were tweaked and revised by the original author, though, so even the movie, which my rational mind tells me will suck, should be pretty good. (Hopefully.)

Don't panic...

2005-04-26T23:58:00.000-04:00

This will just be a quick post on the events of the last day or so. Lots of activity, yet nearly imperceptible productivity. E came up for a very much overdue visit Monday evening, and I'd taken so much time screwing around (instead of getting dressed and heading to the store for much-needed ingredients) that she got here probably 15 or so minutes earlier than I'd have guessed, and ended up having to meet me at the local market, where I was shopping for dinner. Nice. Nothing impresses chicks like ill-preparedness. All in all, a great opportunity to catch up, and she's eager to head back in a couple weekends to meet the gang.

Tuesday finds me up at the relative crack of dawn (in my world, anyway), 9:30am. Ugh. throw together some breakfast (and smell like maple bacon for the rest of the afternoon), start sorting out my tax forms in preparation for the long road ahead. Get an unexpected text from D. As chance would have it, she's working in the neighborhood (and was yesterday as well, without having called me the whole time, curse her!), and did I have a few minutes to meet her for lunch? Duh. 20 minutes later, we're sitting at Vinnie's, an oyster bar not too too far from my domicile. We have very nearly two hours to talk about the state of things, our mutual sheer amazement that one or both of us hasn't shot/killed/maimed the other, as well as making a complete mess of a gigantic plate of all manner of sea critters (SO need to look into finding a bushel of blue crabs...)

Head home, download parts of 5 years worth of tax forms, then decided to call T, as today's pretty much the only chance I'll get to see her this week. Spend the evening with her, take in Made, the hilarious Jon Favreau/Vince Vaughn mob comedy. Good times.

Promise myself that since she's gone home early in order to let me sleep, that I'll go to bed early in order to be productive tomorrow. We'll see how that goes. I'ts just before midnight, and I'm nowhere near ready for bed. Grr.

A note on taxes: I've decided that instead of spending all kinds of time trying to figure out/research whether or not not filing one's return for X number of years results in a defaulting of one's refund for any given year in question, I'm just going to go ahead and file for all the years for which I have W2s and/or various flavours of 1099s. I thought I'd come to terms with all the money I'd invariably lost from this alleged restriction that the government's placed on late returns, but it doesn't really make sense that they'd just randomly get to keep it all. I mean if that's really the case, I'ts sickening the amount of money I've lost...I could probably buy a boat (granted, not a nice fancy one or anything, but still) with the money I'd have thus gifted to the uncle. So that being said. we're left with: 1999, 2001, 2002, 2003, and 2004. I've also made the determination that the last actual year I filed my taxes was in 1999, for fiscal/calendar year 1997. So I'm officially seven years and one month behind. This is far and away the absolute worst example of procrastination I've perpetrated in my life. Hrm. OK, on second thought, getting my '67 Cutlass convertible fixed probably languished for longer, and I ended up not even finishing that little endeavour, but just sold the car as-is/as-was (for considerably more than I paid for it many, many years prior, and in significantly worse condition than when I purchased it) without actually having fixed most of the problems. Ah well, a story for another day.

I've also encountered a substantial delay in the writing process tonight, as in my search through old computer files, I've stumbled upon my old old old files from like 5-10 years ago, and rooting through some of that has been quite nostalgic, in all the good/bad senses of the word. More on my findings at a later date (one thing this blogging experience has taught me is to squirrel away anything that might be used as an anecdote and/or constitute otherwise servicable blog fodder, especially if it shapes up to be a complex and/or convoluted account.) The downside, is of course that I've a damn good chance of forgetting the whole thing, and the fodder is than lost forever, never to be duplicated.

In other news, it appears that the latest iteration of The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy is due out Friday. I absolutely LOVED this book as a kid, and I might have to suspend my moratorium on movie theatre attendance to see this (maybe Tuesday afternoon...anyone?), as the trailer looks decent, I read a couple decent reviews about it, and the cast list looks pretty strong (Mos Def, Sam Rockwell, and John Malkovich, to name a few). It's been ages since I've anticipated a film's arrival enough to go to said project's self-aggrandizing web site, but I REALLY loved this book as a kid. So much so that Douglas Adams was probably responsible for the formation of any semblance of a sense of humour I had as a youth. We'll see how it goes, a review will definitely be posted once I've seen it.

Anniversarial tangent...

2005-04-25T20:04:00.000-04:00

In the last few days, I've reconnected with an old friend from last year with whom I'd fallen out-of-touch. I met E last year, and despite what I thought to be decent chemistry and for reasons largely unknown, we never really had the chance to get off the ground, so to speak. Anyway, we've been missing each other on IM, so by default, have gotten into this one-line-of-text-at-a-time pseudo-conversation, trying to reconnect and catch up without the proper medium.

Last we spoke, E (who lives in SC, perhaps an hour or so away) had allowed me to talk her into coming up for a visit around the first of the year. That's the point where we just fell out of touch, and neither has been great about calling the other. Today, we finally were able to chat a bit about what's been going on, and through some random discussion here and there, found that we were both free, and so we're going to make an attempt to catch up. Here's to hoping that we do a better job of keeping with it this time, I'd love to introduce her to the gang.

In what might be seen as a bit of a departure from my normal rants, allow me to take a moment and recognize a bit of a personal accomplishment. My last "serious" relationship lasted for three years, and ended around march of 2000. Since then, I've been what some might term committment-phobic. I would probably not go so far as to say that that assessment is completely unfounded and off-base, but I think it does somewhat miss the mark. What I'd more closely categorize the situation as is possibly a disdain for societal norms, and all the restrictive stipulations that occur and come with conventional relationships. More on that another day. For now, my point in bringing that up is to illustrate that I've basically not seen anyone consistently and for any length of time in the last five or so years.

A year ago today, I met D, and my life (unbeknownst to me then) would forever be changed (don't you just love those grandiose, sweeping and overgeneralizing statements?) Initially, all we really had was a very intense, tangible chemistry. Very little of the usual awkward small talk or personal information was divulged in the first few encounters;

Everyone knows that these things that start out hot, smolder, burn even more brightly, and get even hotter, generally can't last. The intensity is generally short-lived, and the fuel is rapidly consumed, leaving all contributing participants spent and depleted. I stand before you to testify that this connection has defied conventional wisdom, and possibly even the immutable laws of physics (or maybe interpersonal relations...I'm trying to not mix my metaphors here too much) in not only continuing at a sustained rate, but has continued to surpass any and all expectations (it helps to not have any, I guess) as recently as this month.

Granted, we don't have what anyone, by any leap, would term a "conventional" relationship, but over the past year, I've seen my raw attraction for this woman develop into a real and very deep respect and admiration. As I grow to learn who she is, where she's been, and the things that she's seen, how all those factors and more shape the woman she is and is to become, I've come to want her in my life on a consistent and lasting basis, in any capacity she'll have me. This unfortunately flies in the face of standard "playmate" etiquette, and it's exposition could potentially have disastrous results, but in honour of the first anniversary of the occasion of our meeting, I felt it was the right thing to do to make the statement. My hope here is not to rock the boat, as it were, but to make known my intent and desire to continue to move forward, and commit my presence in a way consistent with the development of our relationship.

D, you mean more to me than I can ever hope to express via mere words, this year has been just barely the beginning, the proverbial tip of the iceberg, and especially in light of recent events, we look to have amazing times ahead of us.

I apologize for the disjointedness of the post, but writing under time constraints doesn't make for the best of conditions...typo and stylistic correction(s) to follow.

Please don't fire me...

2005-04-22T19:21:00.000-04:00

Well, it's been two and a half days of non-posting goodness, and I'm sure very trying for all three readers who have come to expect quasi-regular updates during the week. I'd like to find a scapegoat in my new friend T, who's invitations to spend the night (while not delivered naked, might as well have been, for all their magnetic appeal...so much so that I found myself saying "of course" before I'd realized what had transpired, damn these women and their feminine wiles!) have kept me a) from my computer and b) from a non-sleepy state of consciousness in which to compose this drivel, but where would that get us? The fact of the matter is that I probably could have pumped _something_ out, even if not anything of lasting importance and/or value. For this, I apologize, loyal readers (I'm really glad to have broken out of that 1-2 reader demographic...it really frees me up to use more grandiose verbiage. And thanks to Ro for being the only one to consistently comment, even when it doesn't make sense! ;) Just kidding babe...)

By way of updates, I'll go at it Cliff's Notes stylee (that's how they say that in Long Beach, and thus, the cool way...not that I've ever purchased/read/used Cliff's Notes, but I'm going to guess it's just a synopsis type retelling...) Hopefully this will bring us all up-to-date so we can move on.

Friday night: Aside from what I already went over, basically, I got drunk, complete with drunk dialing episode...some people were reached, some were left incoherent voicemails, etc. After that, we get back to the hotel, frolic a bit, go to bed, and I whine about sleeping by myself and how no one loves me, in a weak effort to scam my way into the other bed. Fortunately, the variable of how big a a loser I really am is not lost on my roommates-for-the-evening, they take pity on me, and allow me a little comfort. ;) Needless to say, I slept pretty damn well after that. Well, except for a wee-hours exploration into a very dark bathroom. Who could I even have encountered in there? the mind boggles. Did I dream the very hot, very wet tousle that ensued? Wow, let's hope not. Definitely slept like the proverbial [drunk] baby then.

Saturday: Amazing lack of hangover...breakfast at the local waffle shack, a bit of walking around to get some things done (part two of two of the ostensible raison d'etre of the journey in the first place), followed by some shopping on the main drag. Does anything in this town NOT smell of patchouli? CDs are perused, beads are rifled through, vintage clothing browsed, hand carved wooden shoes are tried on, fawned over, denounced, purchased and begrudgingly accepted, and all was right with the world. Head back to civilization/HFZ (hippie-free zone), right after a brief stop on the Blowing Rock main drag, which in all it's quaintness, smacks of tourist trapism. Cool hattery though, got some good blackmail photos.

Return to the resort to pick up my car, where the highly-anticipated introduction of D to the king and queen of the resort takes place (and seems to go swimmingly, at that), and I part company with the beloved D/Mo. *sigh* What a blissful couple of days. Chat with the king/queen for a few, then take my leave to prepare for the evening's events. Call new friend T to verify that we're still on, head home, shower, change, make preparations, then head out over to the club, where T will be making her debutante appearance as my date. [drumroll] All goes well, head home around 6am? Promptly crash in order to be up and ready for Resort gathering at 2PM.

Sunday: Head out to Lowe's Foods to puck up the requisite 6 lbs. Old Bay steamed shrimp for the party, after which, who should I get a call from but HF Kel. Of all things, turns out we're approaching the same intersection from two angles, and she's got pastries for me! Yay! The luck never ends!. We wave at one another (I'm the first car at the light, and she's the second car in the left-turn lane to my left, about to turn into my street.) I get the light first, and pull into the next parking lot, where she follows. I invite her to accompany me to the gathering, but alas, she has other obligations, and not even the famed Old Bay shrimp can tempt her. Pity.

Arrive at the resort about an hour late, where the party has only barely begun. It ends up being quite a blowout, I go on not one, but two alcohol runs, and proceed to et drunk on champagne again. Nice. I pass out at maybe 11pm, only to be awakened by an angelic concerned friend a few hours later. Minor epiphany follows, things may never be the same...

Monday: Relax at the resort, assist with maintenance of the infrastructure, vis-a-vis the reimplementation of the wireless system and remote aural delivery system.

Gotta head out for now, will try to finish up this entry later...

Utter incoherence...

2005-04-20T02:45:00.000-04:00

OK, so where was I? Oh yeah, the lamb from the pseudo Indian place was the nastiest thing I've ever put in my mouth.

After dinner, we walk the main drag in Boone, and take in all the goods marketed towards the hippies. (At least, that's the only reason I could establish that this little podunk college/cow town (I don't really even know if this constitutes a "cow town", but I love the way that sounds so similar to "kowtow") can possibly support not one, but two speciality bead stores. WTF?) Quaint stores abound here, and it's not like I can't get a Phish and/or Grateful Dead bumper sticker anywhere, but there's a certain authenticity/stret cred I'd have knowing it came from Boone, the runner-up (to Asheville) for the title of hippie capital/mecca of the Carolinas.

Once we realized that all the little hippie stores closed at between 5-7PM (it was like 9-ish), we decided to head back to the hotel and get some rest, Saturday was shaping up to be a big day (for them anyway, they made the mistake of giving me the option to sleep in (hah! Suckers...))

By 11:00 or so, we were all a little antsy, figuring that with the rarity of our being free on a Friday night, the fact that none of us really had to be "home" at any particular time, and heck, I'd never drank/partied in Boone, let's go find a party/bar. After a couple botched attempts at locating a sufficiently hip party to crash, we end up at a bar/restaurant "Macados". Damn, if this town isn't chock full of underage college hotties. There's an absolutely stunning blonde at a booth to our right upon entry, several others scattered about, and in a little while, I briefly make eye contact with a cute redhead. D and Mo both swear that she's checking me out, but some time later, she's talking to some guy she seems to have known for years. Order a pitcher of the standard pub fare, D designates herself to drive back, and we decide it's time for Mo's first illicit public beer. It was really cute to see her try to not be conspicuous, but let's just say that I ended up drinking in excess of 75-80% of said pitcher. We also observed them making some gargantuan ice cream/brownie concoction, and ordered one for ourselves. Barely made a dent in it, but it did get us introduced to the hottie sitting at the next table.

Damn, didn't get very far again...falling asleep though, and it's only 2:42am. Ah well, I'll eventually get to the remainder of Friday night, as well as accounts for Saturday/Sunday/Monday, and now Tuesday...ugh, so much to do...so little time in which to do it...I'll never catch up!

(yawn)

zzZZzZzzzZZZzz.

Shocking lack of motivation...

2005-04-19T02:33:00.000-04:00

Considering all the events of the past several days, it completely amazes me that I lack the motivation to write. Arrived home a little before 1am on Monday night/Tuesday evening, and the siren song of my 440TC Egyptian cotton Polo sheets and down comforter is a little too strong for me to resist. Here's a brief account of the weekend's events, we'll see if I get a chance tomorrow to flesh it out a bit.

-Friday: up at around 10am, get things together for the trip, take bike over to Kel's, where I'll be meeting her to store the bike and drive me back to my place. Turns out she's forgotten all bout meeting me "right after yoga gets out at 11:00am". 11:30, and still no Kel. I head over to the studio where she is, and wait for her. some time later, she emerges, only to be completely surprised to see me. Apparently, when we arranged to meet, she for whatever reason, completely forgot about it. Ah well, no harm done, we drop the bike off at her place, she drives me home, I offer her soup and a salad, we chat for a few, and I'm late, so I excuse myself and head out to meet D and Mo to head up to Appa. Turns out, they're running a bit behind as well, so it all worked out. Meet up at the LKN resort, where I leave my car, and we head out to the mountainous area of Boone, NC. The drive up is quite pleasant, in terms of weather, company, scenery, and excitement level (on my part, at least.)

We get into Boone just before 4pm, they take care of a couple things, and we check into our accomodations. out for a bite to eat at "The Old Jailhouse". Now, hearing that name, what type of cuisine would you guess they might serve at a place like this? It's a converted building that allegedly dates back to the late 1800s, and has now been converted into a dining establishment. So go ahead, take a guess. OK, that's wrong, guess again. Also nope. One more time? Sorry, wrong again. They're an eastern Indian establishment. WTF?! Not only that, the menus, descriptions containted therein, and pricing, all had the air of false pretentiousness one might expect more from a Manhattan establishment than one in the mountains of NC. Probably the only good thing I can say about them after the fact, was that the garnishing grapes on the cheese plate and appetizer sampler, were very sweet and juicy. The chese plate, while pretty well stocked, had an extra pungent Roquefort blue sample, a nut (walnut? pecan? I forget) encrusted goat cheese ball, and a few wedges of Camembert (of which I'm not too fond to begin with), garnished with some fruit and lettuce leaves. The appetizer plate we ordered had a few Vermont white cheddar slices that weren't too bad, along with some things we had never heard of, and could barely pronounce, like dahl. WTF is a dahl? Saffron was another highly-touted ingredient, being containted in roughly every third item, appetizer, dessert, or entree, sweet or savory, liquid or solid. For our entrees, D went light with a potato soup, Mo had the Chicken Kashmi, and I thought the Lamb Vindaloo sounded like it might be tasty. Wrong, not terribly wrong, and wrong. The lamb had an exceptionally chinese-herb-remedy/medicinal taste, and once you chewed it for a half a minute or so, it would release it's payload of nuclear-grade plutonium, thus hopelessly burning your tongue, mouth, and esophagus. Anyway, not to overly gripe. Needless to say, we didn't ask them to wrap anything.

Ugh, I'm beat...that turned out to not be particularly brief, and having just hit the proverbial brick wall, I'm turning in...possibly more in the morning...ciao...

Bike jockey...

2005-04-15T03:45:00.000-04:00

No huge post today, 3am, and I'm already late for bed. Tomorrow's a big day, mini road trip with D and Mo...Got a couple things to do/coordinate before that, so need to be up ungodly early (for me).

Today was not terribly eventful, other than my out of shape ass having to push start the bike a couple times...read on...

Woke up at about 10 am, just prior to a spate of phone calls. T is out sick, still under the weather. Poor thing. Watch some TV over breakfast of warmed-over soupy concoction from yesterday, Watched Boom, a Spike TV programme Mikey recommended. The show itself is pretty much utter crap. However, there does seem to be one redeeming quality: one of the regulars on the show, Kourtney Klein (I know, it doesn't even really work for Krispy Kreme either, and they own my fat ass). Not becasue she's any tremendous beauty (haven't yet gotten a good look at her face), but she wears some super hot punkish skank wear...and my god, the girl has a body on her...ouch. But again, the program itself, uninspired and derivative. Sorry Mikey, it is what it is.

Around 5pm, I finally figure it's gotten pretty nice, I'll head on down to Rock Hill to see if the bike will start after having sat neglected for 5-6 months. Head down there, spend a little time cleaning up a bit, swap out the plate, look it over, pull and charge the battery, doesn't seem to want to hold a charge. Nice. Jump start it, ride it up and down the street a bit, seems fine. I'm falsely emboldened by my seeming luck, get my stuff together to ride it home, then it dies. Grr. Try unsuccessfully to push start it, doesn't seem to want to start. Grr. try some more, thoroughly wear myself out, finally get it started, ride it uneventfully home. Pull the battery again, set it up for a slow 2-amp charge with the voltmeter connected so I can keep an eye on it. Get a ride back to Rock Hill, get the car, come home. Call Kel to arrange a time to meet up and get the bike into her garage. Ugh, finally!

That's pretty much it for the day, losing coherence, turning in...

Yup, I can control women...

2005-04-14T05:08:00.000-04:00

...or "Taxes? What taxes? I'm busy." (And no, I don't really think I can control women, it's an allusion to the last link listed in this post...read on, it's amusing...)

Now playing: No Doubt - Just a Girl

Wow, this takes me back...this song was out in what, 1995? Damn...ten years ago...I'm getting old. At the time, I was living in Minneapolis, exclusively dating a girl from Iowa, Mendie, working as a Corporate Trainer (sounds good, no? A recurring theme in many of my positions, these grandiose titles...) for Best Buy Co., which had recently (the year prior, if I'm not mistaken) become the #1 consumer electronics retailer in the nation. At the time, if you got a job in the computer/home office department of any Best Buy store in the country, you trained on materials I wrote, and if you were hired to staff any new store opening that year, you had about a one in twelve or so chance that I would oversee training of your hundred to hundred-fifty co-workers by half a dozen departmental "NSO (New Store Opening) Trainers" flown in from existing stores nationwide. Heady times. And yeah, Minneapolis is way cold. Brr. Had a total crush on Gwen, went to see ND in concert at First Ave. in downtown Minnie, not knowing it'd be about a year and a half before I met and partied with her and the band...[sigh] definitely my best celebrity story to date...breakfast at IHOP with Steve and Gabe, the horn section, the next morning was especially entertaining.

OK, obviously I missed posting yesterday, due mostly to the evil influence of women (what else?) Apologies to those who checked in hoping for amusement, hopefully this entry will be twice as entertaining/funny to make up for it. With that, let's begin:

Finally got to bed around 5:30 am Monday night/Tuesday morning, after composing blog post/IMing with Laura, expecting delivery of her parcel. Roused from sleep at approximately 10:00 am (3:00 pm GMT), Laura's finally received her package, and all is well in the greater London metro area. Spend about an hour on the phone with her going over various facets of new toy operation/interface, and viewing photos of my Dec '03 (has it really been that long?!) visit to the EU and reminiscing about some of the fabulous times we had. Ahh. I'm so overdue to get back there, it's sickening.

Spend the better part of the afternoon with a knot in my stomach, as it appears that I've double-booked my evening. Made plans with new-best-friend T on Monday night, completely unaware that it was already the 12th of April. What's the 12th of April, you ask? Well, several weeks ago, I'd made plans to spend some quality time with D, who was scheduled to be out this way on business. In the almost-a-year I've had the privilege of being in her acquaintance, we've only had a handful of these opportunities, and I think it's not overstating the point to claim that we both absolutely jump at the chance to indulge. Naturally, I'm torn; on the one hand, here's an all-too-rare chance to have the undivided attention of my favorite playmate for almost a longer period of time than I can physically bear, versus doubling the amount of time I've had to get to know the most compelling case of electric-chemistry-with-object-of-newfound-flirtation in recent memory. The hours drag on and on. I'm thinking that my best course of action is to honour my prior engagement, for the keeping-one's-word attributes, scarcity of opportunity with plan A, and general right-thing-to-do factor. I even went so far as to let T know about the situation and warn her that I was, in all likelihood, going to have to cancel/reschedule our plans for the evening. To her credit, she was exceedingly gracious about the whole thing, despite it really being the only night this week she'd have the opportunity to get out. The only reason I didn't cancel outright was that D had said in an earlier conversation, that there was a small chance that plans might fall through, and the whole thing could be scrubbed. D was to call me at 3, then 3:30; when she did, the news was not good; we're off. Pity, as it's been a while since D and I have had a relaxed visit, and we're nearing our 1-year "anniversary", maybe we'll be able to do something special in the next couple weeks...D, any ideas? I think I owe you from a couple (or ten) other missteps over the course of the last 354 or so days, so stew on that, we'll talk about it over the weekend. ;)

By 4:00 plans are gelled, downside is that I have less time to prepare...gotta meet T at the local brass-and-fern in under an hour...shower, dress, run out the door, crap...torrential downpour. Lovely. People around here drive like absolute morons in the slightest bit of moisture (I love that word and it's derivatives...moist...note to self, get more hotties to say "moist".) We get a table at the pub, order drinks, chat on various fascinating topics I'll not go into here, but suffice it to say that T and I seem to have a lot in common, and I think (hope) we'll be seeing quite a bit of one another. "Small world" syndrome hits both of us while we're there, first, she says "this guy's staring at me, what's his problem?" Turns out it's a friend of mine, a former baseball player (AAA? Majors?)...trying to figure out if it's me or not...he comes over, I introduce them, he introduces his son, we make a little small talk, he moves on, then later on, we meet someone she knows, but would rather not have run into, so that kills the mood a little, and we make our exit. Back to my place for a little while, but she's ultimately got to get to bed and try to recover a bit from being out too late the night before. (Again, sorry about that T...) ;)

I crash unusually early myself, around 11:00 pm (I know, unheard of) thus the lack of blog entry. Unfortunately, this does not translate into much of an early start Wednesday...finally start flopping around probably just before noon. Slept like a baby, though...good dreams and all. Get a call from Lin, with news:the waiting's over...Freaky D has resurfaced, and she needs to make herself scarce for a little while this evening, what was I doing? Nothing that the IRS might need in the next few days or anything, so definitely, come on by, we'll crochet or do needlepoint or something.

I get up, get dressed, start some laundry, plan on finally starting on the soup/stew I've been planning for the last couple days, when I get a call from hottie T...poor baby is feeling under the weather, but would I like some company for lunch? She stops by, we chat for a bit, she heads back to work...too bad it was so cold and rainy out, lunch on the veranda would have been nice. This physical proximity thing could work out well...I'll have to start getting up earlier...

Soup turns out decent, get a call later on from Kel to try and figure out plans for tomorrow, need to get the bike and a few other things over to her place, it was supposed to rain tomorrow, then changed to partly sunny, then changed to "AM rain". WTF?! Get your story straight, weatherpeople!

This is probably as good a time as any to make public a favorite site of mine, Hedonistica. They post amusing/interesting/disgusting photos/videos/games, and today is chock full of good stuff:

-First up, we have this semi-disturbing video of a weightlifting screw-up. Not much to say about that one, eh?

-Next up is this clip of Tiger Woods (who, coincidentally, T likened facial features of mine to) sinking an amazing shot at the Masters. I'm not even into golf, and this got ME excited about it. Incredible. Now if only he meant to do that...

-I may give the first person I see wearing one of these a wedgie just on principle.

-I can't tell whether or not this is a joke (it's _well_ after april 1st, isn't it?), it took me a good several minutes to realize what it was and how it worked, and I have to say, it seems a solid idea on paper, but how could someone not inadvertently hurt themselves on something like that?!

-This is an interesting way to make your customers aware of the nuts-and-bolts behind new technology, but a) most people don't need to know this level of detail, b) it's too long, and c) was Schoolhouse Rock ever this annoying (but catchy)?

-Oh, those crazy-ass Jap kids...

-Finally, I leave you with this...I missed out on the first iteration of this mindless T&A type distraction, but if you didn't (or once you exhaust yourself on the other one, double your fun.

Apparently, there are entire websites dedicated to discovering commands for this crap, or as I like to call it, mankind's finest invention. Google it to get more ideas, but here are a few suggestions. (Besides "don't try these at work")

Ones I figured out on my own before I got bored:

Beer
Dance
Banana
Strip
Shorts
Flash
Touch
Catfight/Spank (both get the same response)
...and my personal favourite, Kiss

After screwing around for a few minutes with the hit-or-miss guessing, I got impatient, cheated and looked it up, here are some more: (some only work on VB1)

airguitar, angry, ass, blow, bottle, bow, box, bra, bras, can, cap, cock, cowboy, grab, gun, gymnastics, hair, handstand, headbang, hoolahoop, hummer, jedi, jump, karate, knee, lap dance, laugh, lick, light, lollipop, macarena, magazine, magic, math, message, muscle, naked, number, orgasm, pat head, pillow, pitcher, pour beer, pour beer on self, pushup, pussy, rap, remove clothes, riverdance, robot, shake, show breast, shower, sleep, spin, splits, switch, sunshine, supermodel, tap dance, tattoo, tickle, toes, tongue, wave, yoga.

God, I could watch that crap all day...I'm officially in love with the blonde in the second one...

Enjoy, and good day.

Luckiest bastard on the planet...

2005-04-12T05:06:00.000-04:00

...or how the most amazing and unbelieveable things just seem to keep falling in my lap...

Now Playing: Jay-Z vs. Linkin Park - 99 problems (Linkin Park remix)

First heard this tune this afternoon, but it's proven oddly appropriate for the events of the day... (that is, if I'm interpreting the lyrics correctly...) I think I like the Rick Rubin mix better though.

So the day starts out innocuously enough, I'm snoozing, not necessarily from a late night, but I was thoroughly beat when I got in last night. If anything, I went to bed early by my standards, around 2:30am. Slept in, figuring it was supposed to be (at least as far as I recall) cold and rainy, or perfect bed weather. Starting at around 5:30am, my phone started doing things, ringing, buzzing, vibrating on the desk, and all manner of non-sleep-condusive things. First, at 5:30, or 10:30GMT, it seems as though Laura's package has run into a little trouble at the London Stansted Customs bureau. Apparently, they're not exactly what I'd call thrilled about my valuation of $1 for her Titanium Powerbook, extra battery, external CD burner, dual position battery charger, and iPod Mini. so we're trying to figure out a way for her to get it out of/past customs without having to pay the 17.5% VAT, or "Value-Added Tax", added to stuff I guess brought into the country. We go back and forth on how to avoid this most unjust fate, even though on further reflection it was probably (ironically) precipitated by my putting the unrealistic dollar amount of $1 for valuation, with the exact intent of avoiding this very scenario. Ultimately, the expertise of a coworker or two of hers, combined with the assistance of an accomodating FedEx rep on her end got her the right verbiage to insert into a letter to customs, and as of 8:05am GMT, 3:05am EDT, her babies are released from their quarantine, ready to go home. ("On FedEx vehicle for delivery", in FedEx parlance.) By all accounts, she'll have the package in-hand within a couple hours of my writing this, and I'll be getting another call, this one celebratory (hopefully). Thank god, it's only taken me about ten months or so to find her a suitable computer...sheesh.

For fun, track it here. (Though it'll probably have been delivered by the time anyone reads this.)

After that, I get a few text messages here and there, then the phone rings with an unfamilair Charlotte number, and I almost don't pick it up...but who should it be, but the object of my pathetic flirtations two nights ago, and by some act of god nothing short of miraculous, she would like to see me, possibly for dinner tomorrow night? Uh, how's "Hail yes!" (we're in the south, remember, and when in Rome...at least that's my excuse for picking up certain dialectical idiosyncracies) for a response? Then I drift back off to sleep for a little bit, hoping desperately not to forget that a) I have an appointment not written down, and b) it's for 5:15 at the Fox and Hound. I finally rise from the dead at around 1:30 or so, positively euphoric over my good fortune. (As it turns out, I don't know the half of it, more below.)

I head out for a little bit to enjoy the weather (sunny and 80+ degrees) and get some groceries. In the midst of roaming Sam's club munching on breaded chicken and burger/french fry samples, I receive a call from T, tomorrow's date, noting that it's absolutely gorgeous out, and would I have time and the inclination to meet tonight on a patio or deck somewhere? How quickly could I say "yes"? Damnation, so much for not seeming too eager...(Allow me to take a moment and paint a picture of this magnificent creature. As petite as they come, standing just under five feet tall, shoulder-length blonde hair, blue eyes, and the most perfect proportions you could ever hope for, with an utterly sparkling persona, and she's got the hotness of a brain to boot...but I'm getting ahead of myself, read on.)

Perhaps twenty minutes later, Lin phones to catch me up on the gang's weekend concert (a Mr. Lenny Kravitz, the funky bad-ass jew) event, sounds like a fabulous time, sorry I missed it. Mention to her the prospective date for the evening, and how surprisingly hesitant and nervous I am about the whole thing; it's been forever and a day since I've been on anything even resembling an honest-to-god "date", and damned if I can remember how one is supposed to behave/act. I once had my high school journalism teacher and school newspaper advisor (so she arguably knew me better than most teachers, and yes, I was a school paper geek back then...it wasn't pretty, I assure you, let's not talk about it, yeah?) tell me that I and pretty much the whole crowd I ran with were "social retards". Yep, I've not come terribly far in the fifteen years since. Lin, amazing individual that she is, gave me her supportive perspective on the matter, imparting select nuggets of wisdom and clarity, but one of which was to not focus on the outcome, but to just go, be myself and hope for nothing but an enjoyable time. Prophetic words, indeed.

Upon return home, get a call from ham, turns out news travels fast, and he's calling to express regards, and more importantly, the necessity of my obtaining and switching to a Charlotte local number.

Call T to see where she'd like to meet, and suggest ilios noche, a reputed hotspot for italian-greek fusion cuisine. She agrees, and we arrange to meet there at 6:30. Jump in the shower, pick out some random clothes (my lucky burgundy/grayish Armani dress shirt and likewise lucky gap jeans), splash on a bit of the Hugo, and haul ass to get over there in time. Sure enough, for what is very possibly the very first time in history I'm actually five minutes early for a first date, I arrive to her smiling visage on the outdoor seating area of the aforementioned dining establishment. Coincidentally, we're waited on by none other than hottie fitness Kel, whom I had just parted company with not seventeen hours earlier. We chat and chat and chat, having a marvelous time. So much so that I absolutely fail to gauge the passage of time, and closing the place down. We decide to head over to Hickory Tavern a few doors down, where we're able to continue on their patio, also outdoors. Invite Kel to join us when she's done, and sure enough she does, we all talk and drink for a while, the girls seem to hit it off, Kel heads home, and T and I lounge about for a while longer. Unfortunately, despite every intention on my part to not keep her out overly late on a school night, I didn't get home until 1:30, I'd imagine she was 10 or 15 minutes later than that. Sorry T, hope you'll allow me to make it up to you.

Yet another amazing aspect of how all this has come together is that T claims to have been in a bit of an alcohol-induced haze Saturday night, and apparently has very little recollection of the events of the wee hours. Apparently, she didn't realize that I gave her my number, or having kissed me, and subsequently went to some lengths to try and divine my number (calling people, web searches and such) before she "discovered" my card. Any number of variables could have hopelessly shifted the chain of events that led to this evening. Mindboggling.

To summarize, easily the best first date I've ever had to date. Yum. This is definitely the start of a beautiful friendship; great things will come from this, I have a good feeling. What a find. Skippy, there must be something to that whole faith thing you talked about, after all. In my case it's an absolutely blind, yet unwavering faith in this increasingly charmed life I seem to have, here's to hoping that there's enough good fortune to go around/rub off on those around me. Doo, doo, doo, doo doo doo, doo, indeed.

The downside to all this is that taxes are still no closer than being done than they were three days (or three years, for that matter) ago. Unfortunately, the rest of the week is shaping up to not be any more productive in that arena. I should just look at the W2 for the year that drops off as of the 15th, and cry myself to sleep as to how much it's going to cost me, and not worry about getting them done in time, 'cause it's just not going to happen. Alas, it is what it is.

Oh, and for the record and posterity, the "perceived chemistry" spoken of a few nights ago, turns out to be attributable to BOTH the alcohol and a preponderance of that elusive "electric chemistry". You start with nonverbal communication, and come full circle right back to the nonverbal. The thrill of the chase is an addictive rush, even if it is distressingly abbreviated. For you Swingers fans, the quote of the day is:

"So two days?"
"Definitely, two days is like industry standard."

Truer words have nary been spoken, my friends. Off to bed, it's going to be a busy week.

Taxes ALWAYS lose to hotties...

2005-04-11T02:01:00.000-04:00

Ugh, this weekend posting thing is just too much...

So I'd very diligently and sincerely planned to start my taxes tonight. The plan was just to swing by the Lowe's Foods to pick up some Old Bay shrimp with which to reward myself for finally getting started on these taxes. So I'm at the store, on the phone with Mikey, talking macs and a whole lot of general shit, when who should I run into but hottie fitness Kel and roomie Elsa. Weirdness of weirdnesses! They're headed over to T&D's, the Possum Hollow resort, for an impromptu grill shindig. The asked me to go, and between my innate need to glom onto hottie plans and their not taking "no" for an answer (here's me in full bum gear, completely resembling ass, totally unprepared to go out and socialize), I had no choice but to follow them over. Turns out the Possum Hollow gang is tenuously linked to the LKN gang, through some mutual friend? Need to do some asking around on that one, that's far too weird.

Needless to say, it was a fabulous time, Kel said she'd totally have gone with to the Lenny Kravitz show, damned if I wasn't thinking about asking her anyway...crap! And I was totally going to see if she wanted to go! What the hell was I thinking?

Looks as though Laura's parcel has run into a bit of a snag, an exception has been noted in the FedEx tracking info, indicating a holdup in a "regulatory agency delay", whatever that means...

Unfortunately, the taxman will have to stop back by tomorrow...we'll see what we have for him then. For right now, I'm far too buzzy and the eyelids are far to heavy to go on...more during the day tomorrow...possibly...for now, I'm going to crash, and crash hard...

Life is simply grand...

2005-04-10T08:55:00.000-04:00

Another Saturday night has come and gone, and I, for one can not sufficiently express how amazing the power of women is. Having direct knowledge and/or seeing/knowing that you're loved and cherished and desired, in varying degrees from women (or men, as the case may be) is so very comforting. All the more so when it's people for whom you actually care, those you have a deeper connection with.

A short time prior to calling it a night, ended up seeing for the second time, a girl I'd met new year's weekend...acquaintances were reaffirmed, banter volleyed, and all the usual acoutrements of your standard boy/girl flirtations. We've all heard the random statistic thrown around that XX percentage of all human communication is nonverbal, and it's situations like these where this point is truly and unobstructedly illustrated. The tragic ending to these types of stories, at least in my experience, is the dreaded days/weeks/months (OK, "months" is probably a bad sign, if it should come to that) waiting for that first call and/or email, wondering how much of the perceived chemistry is attributable to alcohol, whether numbers/e-mail addresses were written clearly, deciphered correctly, body language misinterpreted, or any number of standard pratfalls of this type of situation. For now, things seem to have started out well, here's to hoping that one of us gets a call soon (best of luck, Jen) ;), and will be magnanimous enough to share the spoils of good fortune. (I'm not above the "I'd have done it for you, you know!" plan of action if things start to not look promising for me. ;)

Upon return home, was still pretty wired, so made a timely call to the UK to chat with the happily expectant new "mom"...talked and caught up for a good hour or so, always a joy to talk to Laura.

OK, ugh...more tomorrow...9am...I really neeed to get to bed...