Monday, April 30, 2007

My name is Shaggy and I'm an......

My name is Shaggy and I'm an editor. I edit the comic pages, puzzles and games for a local newspaper. If you don' know me...I'll let you in on the little secret. This job was made for me.

I do advertising design, and edit the weather page as well, but I thrive on Crankshaft, Mother Goose and Grimm, and Dilbert: Pardon My bet. Need the LA Times X-word puzzle for a month and a half from Sunday? I've got it.

1st ever Career vacation that lasts over two days....T-minus 76hrs and counting. My melon switched to vacation mode two days ago.

Sunday, April 29, 2007

Text messaging


If you send me a textmessage feel free to include your name in the deal...and I'll, "wait for it...wait for it!!!" I'll call you; to talk to you; on the phone; that you just typed shit on; the phone....(the device that was invented so that people at distance can "talk" to eachother) I'll talk to you. If you want the LOL, ROFL bullshit included just let me know and I'll spit out random letters in sequence for you. PYDDHSAB. Plus You're Dumb, Dick Head...Shit Ass Bitch! Or GPSIYA. Go Pack Sand In Yer Ass.

I can't see paying the extra fee so that I can push buttons a billion times to get the correct letters when 9 digits lets me say hello in person. TEXT service is now disconnected. Since I haven't activated the text account for the new phone...It won't identify the sender. Call me at 4am...I'll be awake, don't call before nooner...I won't answer. Any other time I have the phone with me => and on. TEXT if you want, you won't get a reply.

This has been a public service message from the fishbowl....soon to have new corporate HQ.

Thursday, April 26, 2007

Todays Randomness

Todays randomness is brought to you by NYS Tax returns, the word boondoggle • \BOON-dah-gul\ • noun
1 : a braided cord worn by Boy Scouts as a neckerchief slide, hatband, or ornament *2 : a wasteful or impractical project or activity often involving graft, and the number "too small to be considered a number at all".

Graft is right . IRS eat yer hearts out, hope the US Treasury doesn't have to re-adjust the price of gold too much after the lump sum payment is cashed in; ruining the reserves. The scales don't lie, one gold brick weighs the same as a grande cup of joe, simililarly to a witch weighing as much as a duck, or very tiny rocks that float. "I feel Happy"

Monday, April 23, 2007

T-minus 9 days

I'm headed to the great white north in 9days to enjoy a few back at the old Fraternity house. Should be goodtimes. That's all I've got to say 'bout that.
It also marks the first ever extended vacation I've taken since I began my professional career. For the past 6yrs I've only been able to work it so that 2 days back to back was the extent. Starting May 3rd my ass is disappearing until the 13th of May. Of course that doesn't count the 7yrs I spent in Potsdam getting edumakated. Technically that was a 7yr Vacation..

Fire Bombing

I was just kidding about the fire bombing thing honestly, no really...... I even put on clothing and threw out my glow in the dark boxers that have a fellatio reference on the fly when the lights go out. I'm getting too old for such things anyway.

Looks like I'm back to square one with a single month separating me from eventual apartmentlessness once again. I'd go into detail, yet a broad statement to the effect of "too much, too little, I make too much, and make too little" will generally encompass the entire schmoodle. In one instance I was under the bracketed income dealy but a mere 200bones a year.
{$4.17 a week under the desired income} (where the hell are my moneybags? time to rob a bank) If any "lady" would have blatently told me I was poor only a few years ago it would have most assuredly liberated for her a kick in the box and a lighting on fire. I may not make a ton of loot, but I make up for my monetary defunctness with a healthy relationship amoungst me, myself, and I and our never ending audible conversations with eachother. I sputtered stood and removed myself from the Complex office in dignified manner. Promptly got into the frankensteiner and tried to shatter the windshield with a hearty "THAT'S..... SUPER BULLSHIT!!!!" (4 exclamation points and all).

I'm over it now, and have begun a new intensified search for a suitable place to call home.

I did burn some toast this morning with breakfast just prior to meeting with a monkey in Toga-town to view an apartment at 8am. I might have looked like a Zombie and smelled like burnt toast...that'll happen when the fishbowl spits out a nightowl that hasn't slept since the preceeding nooner. Goodtimes.

....saga, continue.....

Narrowed down

Due to the excessive costs and the time table that presented itself, I've decided on a new place to live and am only waiting for a background/credit/pee in a cup/deliver a baby/replace a transmission check/test to come back perfect. Then I can wait for a few weeks and move at my leisure.

If the place doesn't deem me quality enough to move in. You'll see the fire bombing begin at exit 7 of the Northway. I'll be the naked guy wearing only glow in the dark boxers on his head driving in reverse flashing my high beams and honking non-stop until I get to the Ballet in Cornwall CA, a few short lines later and I'll continue my flight from the US Gov't and live in obscurity off the grid, some where in Canaaaadah eh?

Although I'm fairly positive that I make enough money to fit the Complex's income bracket. Hell even my bank said I was credit worthy. (Best kept secret in the world, up until last year I hadn't held an account-- I believed in cash and carry, no plastic, no paper trail, banks are out to get you). If I didn't have the cash I wouldn't spend it. Now, not so much...Mastercard that shit!!

So I cross my fingers, and wait to hear back from them...time frame for response Monday or Tuesday.


Best version ever!

Thursday, April 19, 2007


I woke up this morning in the fishbowl, it was exceedingly damp and musty....that happens to basement apartments when the weather changes even the slightest bit. I opened my WINDOW (ok I have two but one is fixed permanently) : ( and parked next to the Frankensteiner was a police van with huge demarkations on the side Schenectady Police Department Crime Scene Investigation Unit. The doors were open, and a couple of individuals; I assume Officers in the department, were donning level I or II Hazmat gear. I don't keep up on my CSI stuff so I'm not particularly sure which level of brain matter/ blood spatter clean suit it was.

On any given day, this van is parked across the street in the Police HQ Parking Lot. I always wondered what was in it. Logically, it was next to my truck for a reason. I don't know and didn't have the stones to interrupt the two people preparing for what ever they were readying themselves for. I did take a peak inside and there really wasn't much by way of awesome gizmos to note.

That wasn't the really sketchy part of my day. I live across from the police headquarters, the crime scene van is parked next to my truck, whatever. I had to go to the bank, so I went and cashed my meager allowance for 40hrs of work this week and returned home. There were then two cruisers and a crime scene investigation van. Here comes the rub, half a football field away was Muggs, he was leaning into a very expensive car, and doing what he does best. Muggs the drug dealer that chills and sells his wears by the dumpster was conducting business as usual. WTF that guy has to wheelbarrow his boys around trying to not bump into people with his gargantuan testicles. Thank you Sch'dy PoPo for your observational skills.

My move to a different locale has just been elevated from yellow directly to red on the get the "F" out of dodge scale.



Wednesday, April 18, 2007


TAKE ALL OF THE IMAGES OF THAT KNUCKLEHEAD OUT OF THE MEDIA. It only serves to postumously ingratiate his worthless life, and continue to foster unwanted feelings of those involved, and their loved ones.

Seriously, who in their right mind would want to publish images of what this guy may have looked like in the last seconds of a victims' life. There's no place for it!!!!!

There's no reason to nationally reproduce any of this monkeys writings.

Expunge this maniac from existance unless, the family of the victims want him to be seen and heard.

:UPDATE: reflex emotive response. Dinner break at the Gazette, I was angered enough by the site of this momo to break my fork on was a metal fork.

Enough already HAVE HIM REMOVED, all in favor say "Aye" or "Yay" or "Raise your hand" and be recognized.
All those opposed crawl back under your rock.

Apartments AGAIN.........

Anxious, yes! It's just a few short weeks until I give final self eviction notice from the little troubled fishbowl. I've been waiting patiently for a few complexes (not mine, the kind that have apartments attached) to return calls and to finally get a budget in order with which I can make my final decision. One particular apartment is 45min from work, I could set up a bowling alley in the walk-in closet, large kitchen, and viable little studio space that I can finally be creative in once again.

This emaculate larger than needed place is rented by my step-brother, he was defunct in contacting me for the better part of a month and I learned by way of my folks that he was fully expecting me to move in. Rubbed the wrong way....yes I am. A simple email reply would have had me moving all my worthless shite to the place in a week. As it stands now, I've already invested $125, for security background checks and application fees with other places. I hate to tell him to go scratch, but spending money to have people tell me I'm not a criminal and my credit is good, and also supplying them with money to consider me for a tenancy has brought me to the conclusion that I'm riding out the storm and keeping me options open.

I have yet to receive the long awaited email from Step-brother, although I did get a telephone call to meet up with him and discuss the apartment dealy. His time frame...between 7am and 8am on Friday. We all know "this guy" (ME) works evenings and returns from work around 3-330am any given work night, 45minute drive, no sleep, and a meeting in the AM. huh? It would be doable, but I've scheduled three appointments to view other places later in the morning and early afternooner of that day. Nerrrrrrrr. I would scrap those other appointments but one in particular cost me 50$ (I'm neither a criminal, nor is my credit bad bonus dollars). That pretty much makes my plans set in stone.

Last time I felt that I needed this much anxiousness in my life I was driving to Montana in preparation for changing my life accepting a position in the Art History department of Montana State University, it turned out that 9/11 happened while I was driving through the Blackhills of South Dakota. I had left Syracuse after a brief visit with McG, and took the whole shot, I stopped for a total of 6hrs on the drive out, no radio in my shitbeater, caffiene and nicotine fueled driving badass. I arrived in Bozeman, stopped at the Univ., they had instituted a hiring freeze due to the National developments. No job, no apartment, everything I owned in my Taurus. I only knew two people in town at that point. The hotel front desk clerk, and the bartender at the Molly Brown Tavern, LeAnn. I had enough money to stay for three days, at the end of which I would have enough gas money to tuck tail and limp back to good old NYS. Anxiety pretty much left after a few pints. LeAnn introduced me to Briana at the Molly over a pticher of Fat Tire Ale. Briana and I went for a hike in the Bridgers with Rimbaud; her mutt, the next day. I Moved into her place later that evening and magically I had a place to stay for a month, while looking for a means of supporting myself. (Rimbaud sealed the deal with my moving-in with Bri, he had the tendancy to bite everyone and scare the BaJesus out of neighbors, friends, and poodles in the area alike, Me he liked). I ended up working for Kenyon Noble Hardware and Lumber carrying sheetrock and shingles, picked up my CDL, and got to bomb around the yard on forklifts. Great change of pace...I didn't even need the 7yrs of school and the 4degrees. From there I moved on to Big Sky and worked for a guest ranch..wasted my life away with outdoor activities and final grew sick of living in paradise. I returned to P-dam to work for the Roland Gibson gallery. Anxious year at best.

At least now I know I have a job; and if need be, a self-storage area for my junk, and a tent to sleep in since the summer is soon approaching. Now that I think about it.....there's no need to be anxious F'-it! I'll be moving somewhere in the upcoming month, and resume my vampiric life from another well suited cript. This folks is what happens to the human mind when it spends an inordinate amount of time keeping itself company. I'm getting pretty sick of me myself and I.

Wow... I think it's time I head back out West . Apartment issues are nothing. Ramble ramble ramble.....

Still wasted from the party last night

Have you ever heard a song that had lyrics very similar to your life now or perhaps a time in your past. I heard one today that pretty summed up the 7yrs I spent in college. It by no means reflects on my current lack of moral fiber...but I got a kick out of it anyway.

I was on my way to work, when I realised i'm wasted,
still wasted from the party last night,
So I kicked back my seat and I loosened my tie,
i'm wasted (he's wasted),
Still wasted from the party last night,

The guys in the office might criticise me,
for lookin like hell and smellin like a brewery.
but i'm wasted (he's wasted),
Sitting here in traffic, and i'm wasted (he's wasted),
Still wasted from the party last night,

I'm only wearin one shoe, theres no denyin it,
i'm wasted (he's wasted),
Still wasted,
But while I smoke behind my ear,
and realise it was lit,
i'm wasted (he's wasted),
Still wasted from the party last night,

Sitting here in morning traffic,
I could go to work or I could just pass it by,
Cause i'm wasted (he's wasted),
Still wasted from the party last night,

I'm wearin my bedsheets like a cape and a cowboy hat,
(he's wasted)
and naked,
But if I don't go to work how will I pay my tab,
I'm wasted (he's wasted)
Still wasted from the-
I said i'm wasted and party when the somethin thats done-
wait -sted somethin,
Party last night

Tuesday, April 17, 2007


I've been having one of those weeks where everything seems to get under my skin. I assume it's just anxiety , But I'll tell you what..... right now. I COULD KICK A PUPPY!

Das Booten!! cute little F*&^

Monday, April 16, 2007


I just recieved a narsty email from some monkey with an ebay account. He's officially told be that I'm a thief and that I took his daughters birthday money...strange? You betcha...It was the email account that I use with personal emails. Not the email account I use for business stuffs like Ebay. He's definitely mistaken me for some one that shafted he and his daughter. It was a good two pages long and fairly irate concluding with You're going to jail M-F'er. Against my better judgement I decided to write this guy back and explain that I wasn't the "jerk" he sent money to, in fact I've never sold anything on ebay, nor have I posted something to bid on. Imagine if you will the email I decided to compose for him. It from my end, included bits about his daughter, and himself, as well as a hearty Go Pack Sand in your Ass you ill informed piece of Gorilla dung. It also had a great little bit about how I wasn't going to send him Item because I gave it away to a friend instead...the item? You got me....he didn't specify but I'm sure my pal Jack Mehoff will enjoy it just the same. I'm hoping it was a retro my lil pony something or other. I hope and trust that he will consider my retort as nothing but pure apology for his screwed-ness and my lack of having a hand at ruining his daughters B-day. I did mention that if he would continue with sending me such tripe I would no doubt move ruining his family birthdays up on my list of things to do; right after, pissing on George W's leg while giving the State of the Union address.


The best part of trying to find a new apartment? The fact that you can fill out a hundred applications...and only on the last one do you remember your great great grandmother's first boyfiend's mom's maiden name. ( They all have that friggin qustion, I'm suprised they don't want you to fill out a SOAP note for medical information.)

And you also get to pay them money to do a credit/background check to make sure that the money you just gave them is good enough for them to consider you as a tenant and in the event that it isn't that you're not going to steal it back.

I'm currently looking at the Bridgewater apartments in Ballston Spa, they have a finite amount of places to rent and there is also a Salary cap/bottom line that you have to be bracketed in to be a viable candidate for inclusion. Not too much...nor too little... I hope and pray that the Gazette decides not to give me a raise this year cuz if I move to this place it would put me over the top and they'd ask me to move out..."Richie Rich needs to go".

I wonder why I grind my teeth at night, life change equals worn down teethers.

Thursday, April 12, 2007


For the last year and some odd months I've been following the continuing saga in the life of a couple of friends that have been trying exhaustively to complete their family. It's been full of ups and downs...anger and frustration. Today I saw a post that has made me incredibly happy. B. S. and H. have finally reached a conclusion to the journey that I believe started two or so years ago and have welcomed the newest addition to their Family E. I'm elated for their happieness and can't wait to say hello in person sometime soon. Welcome home E.

Tuesday, April 10, 2007

Todays Randomness

Todays Randomness is brought to you by: Circus Peanuts...because they don't taste good with anything but they can hold the world together with duct tape like strength, the word longanimity • \long-guh-NIM-uh-tee\ • noun: a disposition to bear injuries patiently : forbearance......and the number 2.6

Many many bullets?

How many bullets can $25 USD Buy?

Yet another esquisitly shot photo from the Associated Press has been printed in the Gazette depicting irate Shiites tearing the American Flag apart in protest. ( I'm not a fan, but I'm American and allow them the right to express themselves without fear of me tearing out their fingernails or hooking a car battery to their genitals)

My question may seem out there....let me elaborate through my skewed mind and see if I can paint a picture of how my thought process ended up with said question. (It's not a long journey I promise)

The individuals in the picture must have gotten the flag from somewhere, if I'm not mistaken or perhaps I am, there aren't too many US FLAG Producing Factories in the Middle East. If there are, I'm sure some sort of the profit margin returns to the US. SO, the people tearing the flag to pieces are probably using a flag that they purchased online...or from a US Base to rip apart. If the Standard flag costs $25 USD then the money spent to purchase is just going to return to the pockets of the American Infidel and they can spend it on bullets. The think they're making a statement when in fact they are supporting the "little death that brings total obliteration". Smooth move. 1 US Dollar = 1,325.70 Iraqi Dinar (Average yearly income in Iraq = just about $600 USD). That's a completely worthwhile expenditure if you go in for 25 dinar apiece with half the country sporting the bill with you. tear it up...we'll air drop some aide to you.

They might on the other hand be making the flags [that's a mighty fine reproduction they're ripping to pieces], a self defeating act in and of itself.

Monday, April 9, 2007

Soap Scum

When I moved into my place I had found a bar of soap sitting in the shower soap caddie wall hanging doo-dad. I don't use bar soap. I'm prissy like that and have sensitive skin. I decided to leave it since I didn't need the space anyway. The location of the soap is indirectly in overspray, and I shower on average of once a day for the length of time it takes to empty the hot water tank in my place. When you don't have cable, it's the little things that consume your time and make you happy. That and I could drink ten cups of coffee and wouldn't be fully awake unless I hit myself with some form of water in the face, be it, lake,river,pond, sink or long ass shower. It turns out that if you leave a bar of soap in the tray and not touch it for 10 months under inderect shower spray it can survive. It by no means looks like a bar of soap now, it's more of a refracted cottage cheese looking entity, but it exists. I'm about to break down and remove it...I can't decide. I'll be moving myself hopefully at the end of the month and I might just leave it for the next little fishy to enter the bowl.


Sunday, April 8, 2007

Happy Chocolate Rabbit day

I hope and trust that you were all able to spend the Holiday with family and friends. Whether you were celebrating religiously or not, and following the trail of an elusive chocolate egg laying Mammal of prestidigitationary goodness.

I've only a few things to say to some folks that are here in Sch'dirt that are out as a group standing on a sidewalk on the day of the observance for the resurrection of their "Lord". If I hadn't been late for work I would have returned to my Fishbowl, donned the Robes I'm wearing in the image at the bottom of the page, walked past your picket protest party, directly into the Planned Parenthood and showed the fine folks that put up with your crap my support. Couldn't you have given it a rest and not been outside holding ridiculous signs and yipping slogans that fell way short of "one, two, three, what are we fightin' four, don't ask me I don't give a stop is Viet-NAM". "A_B_R_S_H_U_N is uh.....wrong and stuff... Right Beavis?"

On a day that bible thumpers are supposed to celebrate some resurrectionifourusness, you're making it uneasy for people to promote healthy and non-risky behavior among the youth of the area that desperately seek the help. GO HOME TO YOUR FAMILIES!!!! Not to be "that guy" but I hope the placard resurrects itself in your dreams for the rest of your "DAMNED" existance.

It doesn't help your case with liberty of free speech if you're holding a 4' x 4' placard that has a full color image of an aborted fetus on it. In fact, your point; at that moment in time, becomes null and void. You are officially sick FUCKS with no business being out of the confines of your basement torture room with fecal grafitti on its walls. If I went outside and stood in front of your house with a 4x4 image of bunny entrails on it I can almost gaurentee that you'd call the cops and say that my portrayal of the Easter Bunny on your special holiday was offensive. I'm buying a bag of play sand at HomeDepot just for you and a little green plastic shovel....go pack it in yer ass. read up Momos, or take your holier than thou asses back to the 1920's when no such thing as planned parenthood existed, cuz it's here now and you're not helping matters at all. PAck sand....PAck sand...Oh Lordy GO PACK SAND!!!!

The Pope today? Yeah..he uh, um fetii, Guess you're the only monkeys out on the town. Some of your click even made it all the way to homless shelters and community centers to help distribute a wonderful meal to those in need on this Sunday. You..... NOT SO MUCH.

If ya'll are out tommorrow Jebus Crisp will break the line..... ....Here's to you Chin Nuts!

HAppy Bunny Cake to all

P.S. If you should happen to volunteer at a Mission serving food to people that are less fortunate than you, please be mindful and not flaunt your wealth like the woman on the Front page of Monday's Gazette wearing her diamond encrusted triple wrap tennis bracelet. Asshat.... "Here's your slab O' ham served with 20K worth of ICE Biatch!" ....we can file that one under "W" for just plain Wrong.

Thursday, April 5, 2007

In one month

In less than one months time I'll be able to step away from a commitment I made a scant two years ago, Hopefuly I've done what was best for the organization, and that they will be able to persevere without my illogical outbursts and rantings of inconsequential nothings on topics that deserve more attention than I can give them from this point forward.

A new move is also on the horizon, out of the fishbowl and hopefully into a well proportioned domicile that has more than two small windows and a few less brick walls. At that point I can follow my new dream.

Yet another tossing and turning evening of sleeplessness last night amidst the gun fire and police sirens had me in and out of waking lucid dreams until 11am this morning. In one particularly vivid phantasmic hallucination of illusionary, miragedness I found myself attending classes again striving for a new degree. A hands on approach to group communication.
I've decided that starting May 6th my quest to learn American Standard Sign Language Japanese, will begin. What that means? I haven't the foggiest Idea, but I assume in my case it'll be a gutteral way of butchering English sign language with an air of nobility and respect that is unheard of in our Western Civilization.
Yup, that's the plan once I move into the new place; the Rosetta Stone and I are going to have a sit down,...I'm getting on my horse and edumakating myself.

I'm going to make some jello jigglers too, but that's a minor secondary goal, along with ramping up the studio space to slide around in paint once again.

Wednesday, April 4, 2007

Bunny Cake

Nothing says lovin' and Happy Easter like buying a Carvel Ice Cream Bunny Cake and brandishing it as a weapon to liberally and ceremoniously smash in the face of an unsuspecting sleeping friend. Ahhhh....Bunny Cake, hilarity ensues.

Tuesday, April 3, 2007

Back again

So the weekend was great. Drinking games, losing extreme amounts playing poker, good food, good folks and fun, random conversations. I ended up staying an extra night and caught the Opening day baseball game St. Louis vs. Mets and festering.

So here's why I haven't posted since the weekend. I work evenings and only have access to the intarwebb at work.

On my return trip from Waltham I decided that a great idea would be to put some coffee into my system. I stopped at the Tigermart at the Mass Turnpike's Sturbridge Rest Plaza. "I don't recommend getting the irish creme coffee from this place." Have you ever see the movie Leviathan? It's a piss poor Sci-fi flick that has a tainted bottle of vodka laced with some bio-weapon that turns into a flesh eating creature after being injested by the Deep salvage team's crew..... The coffee I had liberated from said rest stop was in my system for all of about 10minutes when the bio-avomination beast first made it's presence known. I was driving down the Pike managing to level the Frankensteiner off at 75mph sandwiched by a Toyota Carolla and a Semi hauling a giant pipe (any guess as to what the pipe was for is up in the air) I Hadn't time to react nor pull over when the coffee and the rest of the stomach contents promptly made a mass exedus from my gullet and landed with extreme force spraying out off my crotch and all over my dashboard. That made me feel a bit queesy! I don't know if it was an unclean carafe of coffee, creamer that was south of cheese, or an employee that neglected to wash their mitts prior to playing with food product but it put me in a foul mood. I continued to feel ill and rocket numerous times making my 4hr return trip into a 7hr marathon. I managed to spew in my lap, out my window, in three consecutive reststops, in the bed of my truck, on my Fishbowl slab while keying myself in and then continually in my bathroom for the following 26hrs.

I'm now at work, after burning two sick days and praying to the gods that I don't relive any of the great north american technicolor vomitorium while sitting at my desk. To give a technical explanation of the way I feel...."my hair hurts".

After such a great weekend if was unfortunate to return under such extreme duress. I did manage to sleep for 24hrs inbetween my yackfesting, and ate some white rice today to finally get some food in my system.

I only wish it had been a hangover, at least I would have had some say in the matter at that point.

Sincerely yours, Pukey McBarfsAlot