Sunday, September 30, 2007


I'm dying....this guy is freakin sweet.... Sven the Oblitarator with his pal Thorfin Skullsplitter. This is too much......woooo. He needs water STAT, thenk U EriiK, "I want to read something now" says Sven. AAaaaaannnnnd DANCE.

If I start cycling and juice up, could I be big enough by hallowween to pull this off? I think not, but I may as well try.

Saturday, September 29, 2007

Saturday posts

It's always "great" when you get to work on a regularly scheduled day off. It means that not only are you wasting time being at the place of Biz when you could be out doing something/anything that is more enjoyable, but you also get paid.... time and a half for me makes the day quite lucrative. (borderline real money, although just a bit shy).

After a lack luster day on the job yesturday (also a regularly scheduled day off) I had the opportunity to pick up some supplies from the beer store. here's my Beer and Movie review from last evening/morning.

Heineken draught keg...great novelty item, $20 piss poor tasting beer, and it just doesn't seem as though there is enough beer in the damn thing. 5liters is apparently just enough to satiate thirst for about 2 movies. Or 3hrs which ever comes first.

This is "Ken" we had a heart to heart talk, then I got all Vampire and drank his life's blood. I also had to suppliment a few cousins' blood too. They were a bit smaller that his fatass.

The Draft Keg, doesn't fit in a refrigerator readily, it has plastic parts that could and do break, the beer is super charged and exits said keg with force if you're not paying attention, beer doesn't smell good when it's mixed with carpet, The amount of liquid in novel keg-o-beer is not alot. Save your money and get good beer in bottles. If there had been anyone at my place other than just me and my pal the liquid refreshment would have lasted 15minutes, as it was I was taking my time to finish it. If you throw a party get a real barrel... it would be cheaper. 20 bucks a pop for the Heineken Draft keg, and it's just short of an individuals consumption plateau. Disappointment.

Super quick movie reviews,
Underworld "Evolution" as good as if not a bit better than the first. Bonus Kate Beckinsale in skin tight black shiny vinyl with corset. Complete "1 in 5 material" at it's best.
"Flags of our Fathers", not as good as "Letters from Iwo Jima". It was thoroughly disappointing
"Pan's Labyrinth" it's subtitled and they talk real fast, specially if you've just finished a Heineken Draft keg. I'll have to watch that one again to keep up.

Yeah so working on a Saturday really sucks the old hairy bean bag.

Thursday, September 27, 2007

Brooks and Red

If your job centers around bagging groceries, if it's the core of your world as a profession. You should probably follow instruction learned at the Grocery Bagging seminar provided by your local grocery store chain. Albeit a lenghty process involving numerous hours sitting in a room full of other bagging associates, it's an invaluable course. I'm not poking fun at the special/mentally challenged people. I've had numerous occasion to witness their stellar performance and wouldn't scoff at the lessons they could pass along to others.

If say, a package of raw chicken gets passed along the ass-end conveyor along with a pint of Ben & Jerry's, a magazine, and a carton of eggs......... logically eggs don't go in first followed by the magazine topped off with the pint and then chicken. Brooks Hatlen Mc'Ellis Boyd 'Red' Redding happened to be on parole and basically pushed me out of the way so that he could recieve my food selections at the after conveyor. I was prepared to "do the deed" myself, he wasn't having any of it.

"I would have mentioned to this gentleman that the groceries were infact probably not going to fair well in their current state; until he dropped the egg covered bag in to my cart, and smiled a broken toothed grin flexing his jailhouse tats "Sorry", he said "no fin' prob man" was my response "I didn't feel like reading a magazine over an omlette anyway"

The only good thing that happened whilst in the SuperMkt today....

...I bought three boxes of cereal with exactly "two" servings per box, the label lies...all the nutrition labels lie. Two serving. Your task...guess which three boxes of cereal I purchased and had Thugs McJustOut-of the Pen bag up for me.



By Shaggy Bob

"There's an angry man in my floor and he watches me go poo/
I need no straight jacket, I need no pills...

There's an angry man in my floor and he watches me go poo/
The icecream truck is outside and its speakers are ring dinging

There's an angry man in my floor and he watches me go poo/
The faucet drips, the tea pot whistles

There's an angry man in my floor and he watches me go poo/
I can't stop looking back, it's starting to freak me out

There's an angry man in my floor and he watches me go poo/
I don't think I can use my own throne anymore

There's an angry man in my floor and he watches me go poo/
I dropped a sock on his face, I'll leave it there forever

There's an angry man in my floor and he watches me go poo/
I bet some tape would hold on better

There's an angry man in my floor and he watches me go poo/

My anxiety has not gone away
There's an angry man in my floor behind a piece of tape and he's trying to watch me go poo."

~You may think I've lost my mind, and well, perhaps I have. Right and left brain functions are butting heads in my ,melon right now. The face appeared today in my peripheral, only spots on the tile until I focused in on them. There was a gruff looking Lenin-esque goatee'd creepy dude staring back at me. Gazing, peering, burning into me with hollow eyes. Something doesn't feel right...and it never will again. It spontaneously felt like there was a stranger in my place. In my head there always will be. To remedy the feeling I afixed some military grade 90mph tape (super industrial "hold a tank tread on" duct tape) to his face. To also alleviate the overwhelming impossibility of me sitting in my bathroom without looking at the spot on the floor I'm preparing a halloween mask and Holiday Santa Claus Stocking Cap to put on him. Perhaps that will lessen the stockholm syndrome and my empathy with Poo Man Choo's face in the floor, I'm captive in my own freaked out mind by his face.

He looks at my fuzzy white ass as I whizz, staring me in the face for number two...
There's an angry man in my floor and he watches me........not you.


Shagz Von Lost-His'freakinMind

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

"The Angry Man is gone"

I decided to take down my ramblings about the angry man in my floor.... why? I have no idea, and I changed my mind immediately after I hit the delete "are you sure you want to get rid of this forever" button.

So I'll substitute the newest piece I've completed. It looks nothing like the crazy pissed off Lenin-esque face I see in my bathroom floor tile. It doesn't freak me out when I get out of the shower, and I don't see it out of the corner of my eye, ever. It doesn't make me feel crazy, and not even the slightest bit odd. So until I can come to grips and repost "THE ANGRY MAN."

enjoy "Blue Bars No.10"

If it's not you're cup of Tea?! Eff ya..I'll just go ahead and keep it on my wall in the Oasis. I haven't sold a piece of art for 13yrs anyway.

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Todays Randomness

Today's Randomness is brought to you by, the personification of Circus peanuts candy and candy corn, the word acerbic • \uh-SER-bik\ • adjective : acid in temper, mood, or tone, and the number just below the end of infinity.

Sunday, September 23, 2007


This past saturday marked the last day that I play Texas Hold'em for highstakes. More specifically I'll not be falling under the spell of a player who goes "All In" trying to get you to bite and or fold in a fit of anticipation for the flop. We've come to a verbal agreement, and little N. at the end of the table won't be taking possession of the title for the Frankensteiner until she is legally able to drive. SO I'll be keeping my truck until that time. Should I not have the truck 14 1/12yrs from now...we'll just hope she has had long enough to forget about the whole incident. She is going to be keeping all the well as my shirt.

"All-In", "All-In", "All-In", "All-In", "All-In", "All-In",........ And then.... KaPow!!!! I'm broke!?

ShaggyBob's Self-Help hints of the Moment

It is not advisable to make mention of how slowly 3 HighSchool buddies; whom haven't seen eachother for the better part of a year, "this being the annual outing", play golf at a public course specially if it's only the front 9. It matters not that you have your Holy Coventry CT Lions Club Golf Tournament. It's only going to take 2hrs for the 3 guys to play...keep your trap shut. If you happen to be the moldy old fart that was vocal to the extreme and recieved the verbal threats of violence, and sarcastically brilliant barage of retorts... Good for you, now go pack sand in your ass or it will infact be the putter you get blade first sideways in the orafice of your choosing, relax and let one of the 3 guys "borrow" your cart. Or you could use the time you decided to yap away to "NOT" 4-putt the green you're on.

If you are playing with the owner of the course and he doesn't want to take responsibility for holding the organ grinder or your chain, chances are he's a bit embarrassed by your behavior and that which you solicited from the guys willing to let go of the minor green's fee and roll yer ass over in your own cart just for laughs. Don't worry, the 9th green won't move too far in the time it takes 3 able bodied men to walk all of the 500yds. (Unless of course you've forgotten that the world revolves, but not around you specifically.)

The PGA stipulates that proper attire should be worn during all events. Lucky for you, this was a public course and we only snarked about your white undershirt and jean shorts a little bit. "Way to pimp it out Golf-Style rock!?"

If it weren't for you Mr. Golfers Get A Bad Name When They're Crotchity Old Men Guy. The Afternoon hitting on the waitresses at Bidwell's Tavern may have had to be the focal point of the day. As it was we were suprised you didn't show up there and yipe about the beer "being cold" or "In a Pint Glass" or "There's too much of a selection" or "These 28 different flavors of wings make my dentures hurt" Boo Hooo Booo Hoooo

I'm laughing on the inside about the whole day, scratch that, I just laughed out loud too.

Thursday, September 20, 2007

No weekend Flyer



Today was on the border of surreal, the kind of surreal that presents itself; say, as when you're visiting a different town and Jeopardy starts at 7:30 instead of 7pm, I've been thrown off by 30minutes........ {paraphrased from the listing of the best of the worst analagies from highschool writing in the year 2007)

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Poor Poor Lucy

Poor Lucy has lost the battle, poor poor Lucy Westenra.............


17 September, Night.--I write this and leave it to be seen, so that no one may by any chance get into trouble through me. This is an exact record of what took place tonight. I feel I am dying of weakness, and have barely strength to write, but it must be done if I die in the doing.

I went to bed as usual, taking care that the flowers were placed as Dr. Van Helsing directed, and soon fell asleep.

I was waked by the flapping at the window, which had begun after that sleep-walking on the cliff at Whitby when Mina saved me, and which now I know so well. I was not afraid, but I did wish that Dr. Seward was in the next room, as Dr. Van Helsing said he would be, so that I might have called him. I tried to sleep, but I could not. Then there came to me the old fear of sleep, and I determined to keep awake. Perversely sleep would try to come then when I did not want it. So, as I feared to be alone, I opened my door and called out. "Is there anybody there?" There was no answer. I was afraid to wake mother, and so closed my door again. Then outside in the shrubbery I heard a sort of howl like a dog's, but more fierce and deeper. I went to the window and looked out, but could see nothing, except a big bat, which had evidently been buffeting its wings against the window. So I went back to bed again, but determined not to go to sleep. Presently the door opened,and mother looked in. Seeing by my moving that I was not asleep, she came in and sat by me. She said to me even more sweetly and softly than her wont,

"I was uneasy about you, darling, and came in to see that you were all right."

I feared she might catch cold sitting there, and asked her to come in and sleep with me, so she came into bed, and lay down beside me. She did not take off her dressing gown, for she said she would only stay a while and then go back to her own bed. As she lay there in my arms, and I in hers the flapping and buffeting came to the window again. She was startled and a little frightened, and cried out, "What is that?"

I tried to pacify her, and at last succeeded, and she lay quiet. But I could hear her poor dear heart still beating terribly. After a while there was the howl again out in the shrubbery, and shortly after there was a crash at the window, and a lot of broken glass was hurled on the floor. The window blind blew back with the wind that rushed in, and in the aperture of the broken panes there was the head of a great, gaunt gray wolf.

Mother cried out in a fright, and struggled up into a sitting posture, and clutched wildly at anything that would help her. Amongst other things, she clutched the wreath of flowers that Dr. Van Helsing insisted on my wearing round my neck, and tore it away from me. For a second or two she sat up, pointing at the wolf, and there was a strange and horrible gurgling in her throat. Then she fell over, as if struck with lightning, and her head hit my forehead and made me dizzy for a moment or two.

The room and all round seemed to spin round. I kept my eyes fixed on the window, but the wolf drew his head back, and a whole myriad of little specks seems to come blowing in through the broken window, and wheeling and circling round like the pillar of dust that travellers describe when there is a simoon in the desert. I tried to stir, but there was some spell upon me, and dear Mother's poor body, which seemed to grow cold already, for her dear heart had ceased to beat, weighed me down, and I remembered no more for a while.

The time did not seem long, but very, very awful, till I recovered consciousness again. Somewhere near, a passing bell was tolling. The dogs all round the neighborhood were howling, and in our shrubbery, seemingly just outside, a nightingale was singing. I was dazed and stupid with pain and terror and weakness, but the sound of the nightingale seemed like the voice of my dead mother come back to comfort me. The sounds seemed to have awakened the maids, too, for I could hear their bare feet pattering outside my door. I called to them, and they came in, and when they saw what had happened, and what it was that lay over me on the bed, they screamed out. The wind rushed in through the broken window, and the door slammed to. They lifted off the body of my dear mother, and laid her, covered up with a sheet, on the bed after I had got up. They were all so frightened and nervous that I directed them to go to the dining room and each have a glass of wine. The door flew open for an instant and closed again. The maids shrieked, and then went in a body to the dining room, and I laid what flowers I had on my dear mother's breast. When they were there I remembered what Dr. Van Helsing had told me, but I didn't like to remove them, and besides, I would have some of the servants to sit up with me now. I was surprised that the maids did not come back. I called them, but got no answer, so I went to the dining room to look for them.

My heart sank when I saw what had happened. They all four lay helpless on the floor, breathing heavily. The decanter of sherry was on the table half full, but there was a queer, acrid smell about. I was suspicious, and examined the decanter. It smelt of laudanum, and looking on the sideboard,I found that the bottle which Mother's doctor uses for her--oh! did use--was empty. What am I to do? What am I to do? I am back in the room with Mother.I cannot leave her, and I am alone, save for the sleeping servants, whom some one has drugged. Alone with the dead! I dare not go out, for I can hear the low howl of the wolf through the broken window.

The air seems full of specks, floating and circling in the draught from the window, and the lights burn blue and dim. What am I to do? God shield me from harm this night! I shall hide this paper in my breast, where they shall find it when they come to lay me out. My dear mother gone! It is time that I go too. Goodbye, dear Arthur, if I should not survive this night. God keep you, dear, and God help me!

Pie-Rate!! R

My pirate name is:
Iron Roger Rackham

A pirate's life isn't easy; it takes a tough person. That's okay with you, though, since you a tough person. You have the good fortune of having a good name, since Rackham (pronounced RACKem, not rack-ham) is one of the coolest sounding surnames for a pirate. Arr!

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Todays Randomness

Today's Randomness is brought to you by, my favorite old paintbrush, the word objet trouvĂ© • \AWB-zhay-troo-VAY\ • noun : a natural or discarded object found by chance and held to have aesthetic value, and the number .0052

Monday, September 17, 2007

Thanks to you

....Here's an image of Tool standing on the Victory side of the Balls of Fury Pong Tourney Table custom made for the event. Tool rose up from the losers bracket to win the whole she-bang. Congrats Toolio. We'll be gunnin' for you at the next Scheduled event.

I'd like to thank Vinnie and Val for a killer time hosting this past weekend. Good Food, folks and fun. It was awesome that you allotted the extra day as well, some people can't get enough beer-pong and it was cool to throw down for the Sunday extravaganza. There was mass foolishness, reindeer games and whatnot, all just harmless fun. Good idea...being safe and responsible adults, bad idea......

......yet still a good idea!

Nothing makes a grown man bust out in an uncontrolled giggle more effectively than a friggin grenade launcher. (<=insert gut laughing.) If we went to College together...that picture should scare the livin hell out of you and make you cry. I still have all my toes, and there was a SAFE-"T" Export present when they let me out of the cage I swear.

There was even a random wildabeast sighting. Something smelled like bologna although it might just be the standard smell inside a Franco, pong, mescal, grilled food goodness, some turkey bird sangwitches, football, baseball, golf, baggo, Two barrels of fun, did I mention that we played beer pong, not the sallypants version the real way to play with paddles and stuff just like back in college. The cookies were good.

more random pics on the way soon....

Thursday, September 13, 2007

Todays Randomness

Today's Randomness is brought to you by, The Russian and The Blonde...+ ...17oz Red Plastic Party Cups, the word dubious • \DOO-bee-us\ • adjective 1 a : of doubtful promise or outcome b : questionable or suspect as to true nature or quality *2 : unsettled in opinion : doubtful, and the number 100.

When trying to update and get people interested in using new programming, it would be beneficial to let them know prior to throwing them into the Beta "with all it's bugs and misguided linking goodness" Thank you Hotmail for screwing me and losing my entire email contact list (It's not like I keep in contact with all 300 of the folks, but it's good to know I can if I want) in the process" F-U and your Beta super bullshit.

I guess I'm having a trying day at best, but I did get a kick out of the TV display at MalWart today...I've been looking into a new set and was purusing the electronics section. Most of the TV's were playing a Shark week rerun on the discovery channel. It struck me odd, and also made me burst out in gut laughter that there was a video of a guy free swimming with a 17ft Great White Shark. (Mentally challenged person obviously, with balls of solid granite, some serious stones) what made me laugh was the voice over guy when he said "Don't try this at home". To my knowledge NO, none, zip, nada, never happened 17ft Great White Sharks have ever lived in captivity much less in my bathtub. "So I will in fact NOT try that at home"
Captian Obvious meter has been raised to flourescent <*punch in the face*> black........ I would however be just as amuzed by seeing a monkey hugging a pigeon..

....there all better

Tommorrows excursion has been set in stone and I'll be traveling on the Mass Pike for a bit, my last three round trips have been great. 1.) drank coffee from a reststop and 5minutes later chundered in my lap while driving, 2.) Got boxed out of no less than 3 reststops and almost whizzed in my pants 3.) was held up in a 65Mph zone parked behind the bumper infront of me for 2hrs due to a fire that consumed a tractor trailor under an overpass. Over Under, Under: Over dun.

I still think the automatic weapons, blow torches, marguerita machine, and keg-o-rator will be wrapped in bacon with a side of bacon covered in bacon bits slathered with bacon and cheddar dip. Mmmmmmm Tminus 19hrs until happy hour and goodtimes.

Francis Bacon criticizes for placing too much emphasis on dialectical and sophistical training asked of “minds empty and unfraught with matter” (Bacon, III [1887], 326).

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Decidedly Minimal, at least it looks that way

....After purchasing 4 hollowcore doors from the Home Despot, mounting the hardware, and applying 22hrs of 15coats of gesso to each, I ended up with the 4 panel blank above. I had thought about covering entire compositon with a mossy green & black/newspaper/wax/thread type abstract dealy perhaps with a bit of chicken wire for texture, but wasn't motivated enough spiritually or monetarily to undertake such a creation. After weeks of deliberation I decided to fall back to my innate leaning toward the minimal.

Here's the final outcome...with plenty of wiggle room for additions should I be moved enough to do so. Installed it measures just over under 8ft wide, as well as just under 7ft tall. I guess it's all relative to installation.

....close up of Panel-3, obviously I have to clean it up a bit. I had to clean the rest of the place and myself with a vengeance, alizarin crimson..and cadmium red don't look too spectacular on the rest of my stuff or my eyebrows.

Lighting in this close up is a better representation of how the piece feels when you stand infront of it. I applied the paint first with a pallet knife and then dry brushed to create the highlights. It still has to dry, and I'll then add some Damar Varnish so that the gloss sticks with it.

I almost lost one panel 1. It didn't look quite right, and I was going to send it to hell with a hammer out of frustration "my measurements were off just enough to not notice" within the grand scheme of things, but I knew...and prior to figuring out how to work the adjustments I had already planned it's demise through pain... I was going to hope that Mr. Destructo Mad was going to liberally smash the crap out of it and pray for a new interesting composition to result. Since they're hollow-core I think the depth would have worked with any luck. Thankfully I pulled the rabbit out of my ass and performed some prestidigitation. ( That's magic using math).

(Edited by Shaggybob, Th. 9/31/07) NOT For SALE! once it's been varnished and cleaned up.. at cost, +plus my usual hourly fee. It's more than I get paid at the Gazette, but that doesn't mean it isn't cheap.

Tuesday, September 11, 2007


Along with the unfortunate side effects of a not so comfortable couch I've also noticed a numbness. This particular numbness started a couple of weeks ago while I was at the weekend getaway in Waltham. I won some cash playing poker on Friday, got my ass handed to me playing Baggo and drinking games on Saturday evening and hadn't realized that falling asleep on a hardwood floor would be much different than when I was in college. Floor, couch, camping out...all the same. I fall asleep where I am and don't really think to care about in what contorted position I may end up. It makes it easier than trying to play cowboys,ninjas,and bears for a spot on a couch if there is limited sleeping arrangements. I gladly opt for the more uncomfortable with the thought that someone else will be sleeping soundly. This specific trip something changed, I realized when I got home that something was amiss, not right if you will. "I slept well" on the floor and didn't care at the time.... aging has finally caught up with me. The big 32, an age when it becomes profoundly evident that hard flat surfaces aren't kind to a body that isn't well cared for. Since the evening in question my right hip is numb, not too sure if there is permanent nerve damage, but I can't feel it, I can feel pressure, but it's numb. It's only an area about size of a pie plate... but it's not cool.

Time to once again re-assess the choices I make with regard to being me and looking out for ye olde bod.

(NSFW) The Ball of Inverness

There where four and twenty virgins
at the ball of Inverness
And when then ball was over
there where four and twenty less

Swing your balls to your partner
and your ass against the wall
If you don’t get fucked this Saturday night
you'll never get fucked at all

The village magician was there
doing his special trick
putting his legs over his head
and standing on his prick

Swing your balls...

They where fucking in the kitchen
they where fucking in the hall
You couldn’t here the music
for the clinging of the balls

Swing your balls...

Little Tommy he was there
but he was only eight
he was to young for women
so he had to masturbate

Swing your balls...

The village idiot he was there
sitting on a pole
Drawing his foreskin over his head
and whistling through the hole

Swing your balls...

The village doctor he was there
he had his bag of tricks
And in between the dances
he was sterilising pricks

Swing your balls...

The village cripple he was there
he couldn't do very much
He lined them up against the wall
and fucked them with his crutch

Swing your balls...

The village butcher he was there
with a copper in his hand
And every time he took the floor
he circumcises the band

Swing your balls...

The vicar and his wife was there
the vicar had some fun
The vicar had his finger in
another lady's bum

Swing your balls...

The vicars daughter she was there,
performing a stumbling stunt.
Hanging from the ceiling
by the suction of her cunt.

Swing your balls...

The prostitute was also there,
she sung her special hits.
Slided down the riverside
and landed on her tits.

Swing your balls...

The postman he was also there
the poor man got the pox
he couldn't fuck the women
so he fucked a letterbox

Swing your balls...

The village smithy he was there
his prick was iron ware.
When the first begun to rust
he swapped it for a spare.

Swing your balls...

There were fucking in the bedroom,
there were fucking in the stairs.
You couldn't see the carpet
for the mass of curly hair.

Swing your balls...

And when the ball was over
everyone of them confessed
They all enjoyed the music
but the fucking was the best

mild persistant backpain

I hadn't noticed before; but having the opportunity to enjoy few relaxing evenings at the Oasis, that the wickedly comfortable new couch is somewhat..... uncomfortable. It's not a matter of sleeping on it..I know that it's good for that. More specifically it's a bit alarming to find out that while sitting and watching the TV (DVD's if you will, no cable) that it puts me in a postion that doesn't feel off at first, but definitely hits home a few days removed. I feel as though I have a rabid Howler monkey jumping on my spine between my shoulder blades. At a few points today it made it a bit difficult to breathe. I guess that me being hunched over a keyboard and mouse for 8hrs at a stretch isn't going to win me any Posture awards, but damn it, it's annoying. Being the night owl that I am, I started watching movis around 9'er and then decided to call it a day in the morning. Me thinks I should have gotten up and moved around a bit within that time to stretch it out. Maybe it was a poor planning idea to put a fully stocked beer fridge within reach of the couch...and heap mountains of snack food on the coffee table. I did get up to go to the loo.... even paused the movies to not rush myself. It just didn't cut it.

It really sucks, I like the new couch, it ties the room together..........

Monday, September 10, 2007

Not safe for work link

Every Cuss word we know...... weak tune. But funny none-the less.

Roadtrip to Somers

Weekend chillin' with Vinnie Bag O' Donuts, Val and Gus. Sept 14-16th. T-minus 4days of work and counting........ Blow torches, automatic weapons, kegorators and frozen margueritas. What could possibly go wrong you ask? Nothing because it'll all be wrapped in bacon, with an extra side of bacon covered in bacon bits.

Sunday, September 9, 2007

Todays Randomness

Today's Randomness is brought to you by, ratatoullie, the word convivial • \kun-VIV-ee-ul\ • adjective: relating to, occupied with, or fond of feasting, drinking, and good company, and el numero uno.

The Oasis this weekend was a bit drab until I had the opportunity to head out for a shopping excursion. Hannaford's Supermarket has got some good eats. I've found that the produce there is far superior to the Ghetto Chopper and Mal-wart. I made no less than enough food to set up 3 meals for 6 and froze some stuff for later. I've never really done that before, although..It's a top priority now=> what a great concept.

This coming weekend's flyer is in the making...stay tuned for the skinny on where and when the horrification begins.

Friday, September 7, 2007

Weekend plans

So.... this weekend I'll be here=> a.k.a.... "my place" The Oasis, stop on in...I shouldn't be straying too far.

-Bev Center
-Liquor Store
-Driving range
-Food store
......are just a short walk around the corner.

85 and sunny, try a walkabout to the back of the building and try to get my attention as I nap on the balcony. If that is I don't here the door buzzer.

Be good, stay safe, and don't do anything I wouldn't do!

Sunday is a workin day...until then droogs

Wednesday, September 5, 2007

Sweat drops and skeevies

I'm a fan of Subway Subs, they're filling and somewhat tasty...the closest shop is walking distance from the Oasis and when in a hurry to get to work the whole 5min drive away.. I like to know that a sandwich artist will ultimately throw something together so that I may not starve. Most visits I'm waited on by one of the little ladies whom are always pleasent and look me in the eye when I order. (I dig that). Today is a totally different story. In the past I may have mentioned that I enjoy my own cooking more than resturaunt food, more for the obvious reason I know what's in it. I abhor the thought that some expecterant inherantly found it's way into my food either by maliciousness or by chance. I dislike when a server (How's that for PC) chats me up over my food...microscopic mouth particles are flying at that point landing ever so gently on my eats. I don't mind when I can see someone prepare my food... at least I get a peak at the slight chance of narsty landing in the food.

Subway has a new guy working whom isn't morbidly obese, although he's a big guy....I didn't ask him to do the truffle shuffle, I merely was polite enough to ask him to start anew with the order that I placed. He started the first sandwich in the apparently over stuffy Subway Shop standing behind the counter glistening. Once he snagged the freshly baked loaf from the super bread cooker machine, I could see standing perspiration on his forhead. He got right into it and started making the sandwich......*gag, wiped his forehead with his gloved hand*....kept making the sangwich, *snarf, a drip fell on the turkey*. {It was a slo-motion drop that sounded like thunder when it hit the deli slice},..... I politely asked him to think about making a new composition. Sandwich artist sans sweat. He called the manager, the manager was rude to the point of me getting mad. If you know me.....that my friends and readers is something that only happens once in like 4yrs. I quashed the urge to hop the counter, liberate a dropkick into newguy, and start slashing with the blunted bread knives they use, and opted for fury instead. (I used the "Paying Customer" line) I became discombobulated immediately because that's one phrase that happens be a pet peeve of mine. I let the manager have it..ignoring the sweaty guy.... People left with their children, I dropped a few F-bombs and called the reindeer games behind the counter super-bullshit. Manager lady offered me a free which my reply was..... you guessed it "Can I have that without the salty sandwich Artist sweat sauce" Tweak city! They made a new sub and I left without it just for spite.

It was the start of a stressful day, (stressful day for me, not a normal person....If I drop my toothbrush and pick it up with 15inches of my own hair wrapped around it my life is stressful.... not much by way of exciting happens during a regular day for me.) I got to work and the S. was planted at my work station, everything had been moved around and I knew that the system set up; that I work with, was undoubtedly changed. She works part-time and has her own station but It doesn't suit her apparently. On a normal day (twice a week) I'm slightly perturbed and territorial but only end up being displaced for an hour or so. Today it was three hours and I was hungry, fresh off a tiraid lambasting a poor sweaty subway guy and his bitch of a manager. I swallowed my anger like a spoonful of sand and let it be.

Next on tap...road rage on the way home after I get tagged by a tractor trailor. Or I'm driving to the nearest Zoo breaking in and heading straight for the Ostrich corral to knock one of'm out.

Move along, move along ...nothing to see here

Monday, September 3, 2007

Strange day even for me.

After the weekend blow out, it usually takes me a few days to get my bearings again due to the over abundance and non-existance. "i.e. Practices in Alcohol consumption and Sleep depervation." Work last night was a killer, it was even more boring than I had imagined it could be. I caught myself on a number of occasions last night as well as today imagining myself the fancy star in a Noir film. I was narrarating it in my head.....

......After a brief sleep that consumed me for the last 12hrs I was dazed, confused....yet not wanting to roll out of bed to face the daylight. The pillow was comfortable, like laying your head on a supple breast and never wanting to move again. I was hard pressed to not call in and cancel the paper this evening. I can't say as though I miss the dames. I had the kind of afternoon wake up that requires things not quite on the level with birds around. It was a dig at 'em sort of crotch/ ass scratchin that men only waking dream of in the predawn hours....a euphoric scratch that never wants to stop..... After a thorough steelwool treatment I moved on with my day.

I brushed my teeth, the light in the bathroom was overwhelming, small circles, liberal paste...I looked like a rabid dog, (maybe I am).... The shower wasn't much better, I leaned on the cold tile walls,... and let the water glance off me: not really putting too much effort into it. The shave was an unruly one...blood dripped from my jaw bone ruining the freshly laundered towel I used to sop it up...damn new razors, I didn't lop my head off but I sure looked like a stuck pig. That's gonna leave a mark, just another reason to give up the practice entirely......

I made pasta for dinner, nothing too exciting there, boil water and fight the urge to bury your hand in the pot just to know you're alive. Time to kill is the name of the game for this guy..... never up early enough to get something productive done, never sleep late enough so as to rush to catch the plane if ya know what I'm sayin'. I look over old photos, and check to make sure the Xmas Ornament is still getting fanned on the refridgerator door. (A present from, from the W's)
....I smoked a couple of squares and then headed to work, and here I sit, clad in black (not my color but it's just one of those days)...... Caffiene and Nicotine fueled graphic design boredom......

Sunday, September 2, 2007

Todays Randomness

Today's randomness is brought to you by weekend recovery time, the word pillory • \PILL-uh-ree\ • noun 1 : a device formerly used for publicly punishing offenders consisting of a wooden frame with holes in which the head and hands can be locked *2 : a means for exposing one to public scorn or ridicule, and the number 5.45