De'la Shane

Mr. Conner is going to be in the area. That's right.... he stopped in at the Oasis, he's going to move to the 'Dirt in a couple of weeks. The Stockade Bower/Conner faction is soon to be in the mix. Happy Hour at the Oasis will be @ 3pm on July 4th, in preparation for the Independence Day extravaganza that is Spanky's Lounge (60's era theme party, BYOBongwater) on Saturday July 5th. 5G's of Fireworks and mixed drinks are suitable extra added goodness... KaPow..oooooo aaaaahhhh! Bring your drankin sandals and tye died best. Free love starts at the line forming to my zipper. (just kidding, I'm still medically induced to Midlife crisis car, the Vette is 4 weeks away.) I may have to get a Members Only Jacket to suppliment the Awesome.


That's NO JOKE chief....

Quirky

Had a sign in problem that I hope has ironed itself out. If not...I'm bringing a hammer to work tommorrow. I'm thinking about a change for the face of "....and other things not-so-holy." Procrastination is, well, ........I'll tell you later.

Crazy couple of days this weekend. Good times. Chatted it up with DK LilMac w/rasberries, Steve and Rachel, Got a message from the Monstu, pissed away a fair chunk of cash on new kicks and a titanium spork ( yup you read correctly, titanium spork... it's all mine suckas) now I need to find some more.

Congrats to the McG's and their new house purchase.

The Little Blue Book of Sales

When I worked selling art at the Arts Center in Manchester, I quickly learned how to make an effective sales pitch. I also used a number of formulas to get the ball rolling. After a few months I noticed that it was easier if you followed the rules of the book that is titled above. It's a great read and gives insight into the way people look at you when they are trying to reel you in. It breaks down the basic principles of snake-oil salesman into human terms. To my knowledge there aren't any Car Sales persons that are anything but Type-A personalities, whom view you as anything but commission $$$. If they would step out of that mold I bet by refferals alone it would have them buying a huge house in a failing market. (depending on the Snake-oil sales person on that end).
Art is a tricky thing to sell, it's so Objective that there really isn't a pitch that works without first getting to know the person. They'll love it or hate it....won't be able to explain their reactions and will obviously haggle for a lower price. Car people are different in that they seem to not care, but god damn it...they're going to be your best freind whether you like it or not. example

Write to an email to a dealer, you'll get an automated response within I'd say 15.4seconds.
A follow up email will include a quasi-personal hello from a Sales Person with the disclaimer "please disregard if you have spoken or contacted another sales representative" (They don't want to step on eachothers toes you see, just yours until you say uncle)

I responded to the second email: Formally using Mr. so-and-so, ending with respectfully, letting him know very little about myself other than the fact that I have an old truck and that it has been recalled (inspection on the 24th). I added that I like to golf and wanted to get up and rolling again asap.

"Mike" and I are now playing in an imaginary round of golf, he's chatting away about the best clubs out there. I'm standing at the tee box thinking this guy must be able to crush a drive 4,000yds his balls are so big. No fewer that 6 Times in his short email response to my response, he reffered to me as Rob. (If you know me, that ain't the case...I don't go by ShaggyROB, it doesn't sound right and I dislike it) SO Mike and I are in the bantering stage of sales where he already ascerted the Type A bullshit "Get to know your victim" Stockholm him. He's goign to be more willing to buy from a buddy than a business professional.

I'm getting amped...really amped to meet this guy, my plan of attack with my new buddy is this. Type A doesn't work with me, get the cute little hot chick that introduced us... the one with the clipboard just pointing people in the right direction. She isn't Type A, or she fakes the hell out of it.

The Sales Person will get 5minutes alotted for runs to his Manager.

It's another ploy, "let me talk to my manager" they go into the back and let you fester, maybe they're cupping eachothers 4,000yd balls. Then he returns with the standard not quite higher than WTF offer to have you counter offer, back to manager for teabagging, return with ridiculous offer and so on and so forth until you get sick of the shit and say ok, I'm in for that inflated price because I just had 6 cups of coffee waiting here for the last 1 1/2hrs and I have to whizz.

Sales monkeys get 5minutes Total with me. if he's gone for 2min... he has 3 left for the rest of his song and dance. At 5minutes I get up and walk out, or request that they get someone that can make a decision on their own. MAnagers will give them a bottomline to negotiate around. They have that on a clip board before you even get there. "Sell that free toaster oven as well" Cuz every new vehicle should have a new toaster oven in it. Keep the unnecessary extra over the top $3,000 but give them a $15 toaster oven. mmmmmm I like Toast.

I'm looking forward to the process and will be taking a copy of the blue book with me. When they start using their 5minutes I'll scan a chapter or two. Then give them the highlights when they get back. A+ fucktard you're times up."No sale for U" "Sorry you wasted your time on me wasting your time on others...less money in the pocket today eh? chief"

Addendum: Just recieved another email from Mike, his time frame for a "super sale" is within the next two weeks. MY friend Mike, who calls me Rob is a Sales Pitching GOD. although he forgot one little thing (the inspection is 4 weeks away) Type A $$$Rob would not have his cash recall money until at least the 24th.

Turning the corner

I was driving behind an SUV today, not really all that fast... when the SUV took a pretty sharp turn and looked as if it was going to tip over. Strange.... we weren't going all that fast I thought to myself. It was a smaller SUV, borderline crossover, it wasn't jacked up at all so I didn't see why it would do such a thing. (this is where I get completely shallow) I followed it trying to ass-ertain why it was leaning still, could the shocks given out? I stopped a few miles down the road at a stop light; something I customarily do when they are red of course. I was in the turning lane next to the SUV. There had to be some lymph / thyroid? problem going on with the dude behind the wheel. He was utterly monsterous, gargantuan, flippin huge. To the point that I couldn't stop staring big. I'm willing to bet that a flatbed low-boy would have buckled under the gravity this guy was producing. He was listening to the same radio station I was listening to and this guy started headbanging....I thought the brakes were going to melt and his SUV would roll out into the oncoming T-bone zone. Instead it held firm and the guy entertained himself in a comfortable in my own skin way. I felt sorry for the wee SUV, but wish I knew the man pancaking it. "My name is mudd....."

A trainwreck waiting to happen?

From a recent email that officially got my gut churning and wanting for the good ole colon bomb.

~Monstu~
Here is the official recipe, followed exactly every time. Make sure
to measure accurately (recipe can be, and often was, doubled or
tripled although it is not suggested to attempt making less than one
full recipe).

1 log frozen Grade F- ground animal flesh (beef if you're lucky)
1/2 K-C?** Sh**** (rhymes with Carp) boob sized bag of elbow macaroni
1 #10 can generic tomato sauce (important that it is be low quality so
it contains lots of seeds)
2 cups FRANK'S(R) RedHot(R)
4ish tbsp Pocahontas brand chili powder (this is a mixed spice
containing chilies, cumin, garlic, onion, etc)
3ish tbsp red pepper flake
2ish tbsp garlic powder (not salt)
2ish tbsp black pepper
1-6 tbsp random spices and/or termite droppings
1 quart sour cream
1 sleeve saltine crackers
27 cans cheap beer
2 pints whiskey
1 1/2 cup Pepto
7 Camel light filtered cigarettes

Instructions:
The night before:
Consume beer and whiskey. Put frozen ground flesh log in sink of
cold water to defrost. Hint: do not sleep if possible.

Morning of:
Vomit, smoke three of the cigarettes and begin browning the ground
flesh log. The log will still be frozen in the middle because you put
out to defrost after drinking the beer and whiskey. Put on pot of
water to boil and salt liberally.

As the log is browning, smash and chop it with a metal spatula to
squeeze out the grease and juices. When all meet is gray (it won't
actually turn brown if you have the right stuff), drain off some of
the fat (yes believe it or not I actually drained off the fat even
when I was making this at the house), then sprinkle the spices over
the ground meat and cook a few more minutes.

If you are lucky, the water is boiling by now so stir in your
macaroni and cook it to near mush (al dente is for wine sipping, vespa
riding, soccer loving, gold chain wearing Italian douche bags).

Vomit again and smoke two more cigarettes. If possible yell at
someone to get out of the TV room and go clean something, possibly the
deep fryer or the grease trap.

Mix the seasoned meat, tomato sauce and redhot into the noodles and
allow to simmer for approximately 20 min. Stir occasionally but not
all the way to the bottom so that there will be some burnt areas which
add a smoky flavor to the dish.

To serve:
Leave the pot on the burner set to its lowest setting and leave
stirring spoon in wreck. Place sour cream and crackers on table for
diners to add at their digression along with extra redhot. Serve with
milk or more beer (having both is not recommended).

Consume one plate or bowl of wreck, smoke one of the remaining
cigarettes using uneaten portion to extinguish the butt. Consume the
Pepto, nap and repeat this last step, or attend house meeting.

~Monstu~"written for Ogar, after a recent inquiry"

My suggested additions follow (Ain't nostalgia grand) :
> Ok, the only additions I have to the marvelous rendition from the Trainwreck specialist, are that you have to prepare the meal in either boxer shorts of fat cords with out shoes on. (If you're wearing shoes it won't cook properly, make sure that you scratch your ass at least 5times throughout the process) I also recommend that after the pre-meat spatula log shaving vomit that you open a bottle of Clan MacGregor and liberally dose yourself so that A.) you wreak of cheap shitty booze rather than the Great North American Technicolor Vomitorium, and B.) you deaden the taste buds/ nostrils so that you put just a tad too much spice in it for the normal human being to consume. At that point apply one or two Beast Ice to your ulcer to quell the hurt. If you choose to put out the cigarette in the bowl of remaining wreck remember to leave it sitting on the coffee table through but not limited to the entire 29 f*ckin repeats of sports center, if you Wookie yourself on the couch with the bowl of extinguished butt and sport center, renew your love for wreck when you groggily wake up and mistakenly take a fork full of the ashes.......... Mmmmmm Good. Save the remainder of the wreck in the cooking pot cover the top of said pot 3/4 with tin foil complete with the serving spoon dug in really deep and put in the refrigerator. The bigger the refrigerator the better it'll add random moldy unsuspecting flavors to the leftovers, every subsiquent trip to the fridge for a bite with give you a yummy suprise.
> After a late night drunken dip into the wreck leftovers, and a quick snooze when you wake up the next morning it is customary to call either Monstu or Myself and say "Bloody Buddy" which will cause both of us to make a Bloody Mary and enjoy the gut rot that your experiencing vicariously through you.

If you've never experienced a Trainwreck, this is the one for you.

Cleaning

I cleaned out the Frankensteiner today in preperation for the jaunt to a dealership tommorrow. The recall stated whatever condition the vehicle is in given that the rust problem is prevalent enough to warrant the money. I took it to the spray and wash for one last intimate moment. I was caring and thorough. Unfortunately I was a little over zealous for just a second when it came to the undercarriage. (lord knows that cleaning the undercarriage is an important thing, be you male or female) but not so much a good thing when you're prepping to have the truck inspected for rust damage, a good portion of the problem was immediately washed away in a hail storm of oxidized shrapnel. I never imagined that I could drop/throw a pressure washer stick faster and or harder away from my hand and lament the mistake in such a heavyhearted way. It wasn't the frame in totality and I think the rest of the stalagtite-ish rust is still hanging around.

I was a bit saddened by the thought of getting rid of Frank. I purchased it 5yrs ago on Halloween, and for all the trouble and all the headache it's been a Fun ride. I'm still pre-emptively searching for a replacement to carry on ShaggyBob's Funtruck Booze Cruz. (If you haven't been following along, the Booze Cruz doesn't necessarily involve the Booze and it's more of the Cruz to different places across the NorthEast.) I'll be posting a contest flyer with two slots for entries. I'm asking that you submit names for the new vehicle once it's purchased, and a place for a new name for the Cruz. I doubt I'll have another Funtruck to drive around. Basic rules and stipulations will be provided on the flyer and the winner will receive a gift of my choosing that includes but is not limited to, a visitation, a personal showing of Bob's Cookin show, and perhaps the complimentary beverages that go well with the theme of dinner. (Any and all entries that involve the word Jubilee will be considered null and void and tossed on their ass out of the running for the prizes)

I will say that looking for a vehicle on the cusp of Independence Day Sales where 0% financing and getting a shot at snagging a gas incentive card that flat rates $2.99 a gallon for the first 12,000mi. a year for 3yrs isn't unheard of...is pretty F*ck'in awesome.

The search begins in earnest....

Vehicle search 2008 is underway.
Over under under over done 9'er

ShaggyBob's Self-Help hints of the Moment

Never pass up a free meal.
Never waste a boner.
Never trust a fart.

Good News / Bad News

Bad News: the AC in the Frankensteiner isn't fixed.
Good news: The mechanic that was going to fix the Frankensteiners AC, put a screw driver through the frame of my truck, thus leading him to not bother with the AC and then telling me that my particular vehicle along with all other Toyota Tacomas '95-'00 have a perpensity to rust out from the frame up due to some sort of defective metalergy. They've been recalled and the Toyota Gods are paying out 1 1/2 times the retail blue book value to people that really don't want their asses to drag on the pavement because of catastrohpic failure. My ass is one of them.

SO, basically I'm now driving an AC-less POS, a $12,000 magic carpet, until I can get to a dealer and turn in my Toyota Badge. Kinda sucks to think that after all the problems, and the head aches, and the spitting and swearing, and the "no brakes" and the "guard rail", and the "WTF my tire fell off", and the 40mph sno-tube ride down Sissonville rd. and the 8 kegs bottoming it out, and the muffler those oh so few 4 times, the baja snow bank explosions, the 375 degree turns on teh black ice in the middle of the adirondacks, parking the front tires in a lake, and the 80,000mi. I put into making it the junker that it is; religiously following the mantra of Shaggybobs Funtruck Booze Cruz, the worlds largest ashtray will soon be defunct....I'm going to miss it. I haven't gotten rid of it yet...but still. That being said, I'm leaving the office and taking my sweet ass time to drive home. At least that will get me another 4:17minutes of time in the Funtruck.

Bob's Cookin Show at the Oasis if you're in the area, shoot me a call if you'll be around.

Pursuant

A VIVID thought.

Pursuant to the ever changing and always amendable life plans that I have for myself I'm going to go out on a limb and apply for acceptance into the Porn Boom Microphone Operators Guild. Granted it'll be a tough move to So. Cal. and the apprenticeship may be a bit difficult, standing there holding my pole..... yeah, I may have to amend it abit but gosh darn it it ain't a bad goal.

Cameras (check) Sound (check) Boom ready (check).....and...... ACTION. (cue the funky whah whah bass)

To paraphrase Bruce Campbell playing Ash, the role that made him an Icon.... "This... is my boom"pole"!

Say boom pole 10 times fast and try not to gut laugh... (triple time it) it's likened to a double kick pedal death polka band.

And there she was, Fatima....

12 years ago today I had the misfortune of finding a single can of beer in a little alcove, well it was a crawl space to be exact, called the Hall of Bongs on the third floor of the Fraternity Mansion. It wasn't a beer that I had had before, nor did I want to try it. I remember the can, not the contents "we left it hidden in a wall while doing some renovations for the next sap that comes along". 12 Years ago today on a sweltering summer afternoon covered in fiberglass insulation, surrounded by dead flies, and sweat dripping in my eyes I found....

Olde Frothingslosh....... I thought I was seeing things, it must have been the sweat, nope...there she was, the first moon goddess in my life; Fatima Yechburgh, in all her (grlp, just a little in my mouth) glory.

I don't know how long it had been there, but add 12 to the tally. (somewhere in the neighborhood of 55yrs as of today) I should have opened it and tried it....just for the sake of doing so. Perhaps some things are better left for the next guy with a crowbar, and a little initiative. God Bless ya if you take a swig.

Now... on to ebay to find me a case of this shite, to horrify my friends and family. "I bet it tastes like heaven, or the footbed liner in the running shoes I still have from highschool melting under the tool box in the back of my truck"

".......mmmmmmm, footbed liner in the running shoes I still have from highschool melting under the tool box in the back of my truck."

Why consult the deck> you say?

I just want a Freak'in Chili-Cheese dog, Is that too much to ask?

Oblique Strategy: "Instead of changing the thing, change the world around it."

Ok, ...where do I get a Freak'in giant Chili-Cheese dog costume?

Bored

Monday, the only day of the week that I get to practice the skills of a graphic designer here at the Gaz now that I'm Ultimo-utility player. The reason I took the job, the reason I resigned myself to a life without the sun. The resume building stock and proof that I can be just a little artistic even though it's in a contrived 1-6 column space.

And wouldn't you know it, apparently the sales representatives haven't been having much luck lately (print news is a dinosaur). There are no ads to be designed, no pick-up ads to alter to taste, no spec ads for Independence Day, nothing...not a damn one. So here I sit.

I'm dangerously close to the end of the internet and to tell you the truth, it's like getting kicked in the dick. For the rest of the week I have to be responsible, take charge of the output and upload of the entire kit and kaboodle. I have to make sure the product is flawless before printing, fix the mistakes if there are any (editorial and advertising), take PDF's of each page and use OLIVE to separate stories, jumps, headlines, bylines, images, captions, ads, charts, graphics, leads, subheads, supplimentals, link them to their respective partners in crime and label each to make sure that all you webfolks can get a specific story from the internets in its entirety with one click of the mouse. Triple check the 3 editions and spice to taste.



And with a bit more prodding I can make coffee.

Tom Waits

There are a few reasons why I enjoy the being that is Tom Waits. This man is an amazing performer and I enjoy his melodic voice, it's kinda like a can coffee can loaded with pebbles full of cigarette smoke. Here is a prime example. It's a press conference detailing his upcoming US tour.( http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=EOrG1r3S6ZA ). It's not that hard you can cut and paste. Don't skip out early you have to watch all of it. It's not even 4 minutes long.

Happy Dad Day

The D from the DK Lil Mac connection takes a rip on Windy Hills 6th Tee Box effectively vaporizing a tee and gutting a squirrel. It was a beautiful day for a little small ball.



All proper form aside this is my attempt to knock the dimples out of a golf ball on the 3rd Tee. I did just that playing to my weakness of monster slice to drop the ball on the fairway. (I'm seriously diggin my vampiric pasty white goodness). Tommorrow I blister, a then begin the healing process for 6 evenings at the place of biz.

We both shot some pars, and a bunch of bogeys..with the obligatory snowman & niners. And there was some dueling putters. My pitching wedge is broken and my chips were lacking. But it was definitely goodtimes.

I was traveling back to the office today and was sitting at a red light in Clifton Park next to a 2008 Vette, rumble, hum, rev, rev.....reevvvvvvvv. Vroooooooom, 1st, 2nd, 3rd gear. It took only a split second for this pipe to smoke the frankensteiner off the line. Although I do have to say in a tortoise / hare sorta way that no matter how poorly you're buckling your transmission and wasting rubber. A guy in a slow ass truck will be laughing at you when you go 0 - 35 in 1.0 seconds only to slam on your brakes and wait at the next light. The light that never will be green, ever if traviling in the particular direction we were headed. The third light that the monkey decided to hurry up and wait at was too much. I pulled up next to him...gunned it in neutral a few times and waited for the green. He squawked his tires and did the whole thing again until he slammed on his brakes missing his sidestreet turn. Nothing says my car is badass more than having to turn around in a church bake sale parking lot. The balloons made him look like James Dean. Or is it Jimmy Dean.

Miss Kate posted this and a few other shots from the weekend in Maine

It's officially one of my favorite photos.

what? I'm just sayin they had it comin' to them, the mullets. Zorbo, Zorbo.....
(If you put enough car bomb, jameson and gin in someone they get, well...the chance to ruthlessly beat me down apparently )

1 yr ago today

1 year ago today they laid off 12 employees from the dying breed of news publication that is the Gaz. Holding true to the now what seems to be yearly schedule. They laid off CB, my co-worker on nightside. The man is awesome, and has 3 sons...his eldest turned 5 today. It happened 15minutes ago. He walked to his desk and started pulling photos of his boys off the cubicle. I had been summoned by the super-super-super pre-press production Supervisor for an office chat. CB said "C-ya" in a customary way...the way it's said when one takes a dinner break or has a few minutes to head outside for a smoke. It didn't dawn on me.... I meandered out into the hall, turned and was awestruck/dumbfounded. what does one say at the happening of such an event "out of the blue". I couldn't think of consoling words, only offered my help if it was needed. WTF?! I'm still stupid with WTF was that alll about.

I'm not secure enough in my life to make rash decisions, and had I a little more testicular fortitude. I should have marched to the office meeting and quit on the spot, thus making it possible for him to stay on, and I to find another job. I couldn't pull the trigger. And right now I feel as though I've let myself down.

It seems a waste to remove a person that's been here 8yrs and is raising a family when I'm here still. I don't know why they made that decision. Probably never will. As for me, I know now that I'm not a chivalrous/stand up righteous person, I failed to give unselfishly that which I have to offer. I dropped the ball when it came to a moral decision that would have benefitted another. As a person....I suck at life.

Apparently the first order of business in this cost saving measure by the company was to hydroseed a new lawn surrounding the parking lot.... [<=jaw drops]

They're gone

The wee little morsels of baby robin escaped the eventual death that I was going to smote upon their little melons in preparation for a bit of fine dining. They flew the nest today and only one had an issue with a second try. It eventually busted its way out of the jailhouse that is my porch railing and made it to a tree just across the pond. I'm pretty psyched that it made it across the small expanse of water because I wasn't going to force myself to wade through the muck to ferry it to the other side. (It would have been darwinian)

The Frankensteiner is still w/o A/C and the ventilation fan repairs have to wait for another week and a half. Weird thing; it is, prepping to drive just down the road like you were prepping for a hike by hydrating and bringing along an extra set of clothes. I don't sweat like a gym going body builder but I definitely can dribble some salty liquids when sitting in an oven. It looks like the cost of repair for the A/C and the other minor fix-it's will take the funtruck off the roadtrip schedule for a month or so. It's just as well I guess, I've only spent 1 weekend at my place in the last 6 weeks. There's no reason to pay rent if you don't spend time in the place. I should go to a campsite with in a reasonable distance and set up a tent, drop my lease and then find a suitable replacement domicile in Toga-town after the racing season when the inflated prices drop back down to normal. (thoughts flowing around my dome that will never happen I know, but they're there).

Wilby, Tool, and Z, thanks for a crazy weekend. Miss Kate it was great to chill with you and the wee ones for the little time we had a chance.

Sunday River Pic

I was able to find a pic of the course at Sunday River, it's a view looking back at the 9th Tee boxes over a very intrusive expanse of thunderchunk (a huge gully 45yds, full of debris, boulders, rattle snakes, moose teeth, and the skeletal remains of a small child).

My tee shot landed far to the left of this vantage off a couple trees and in rough that had to be at least 3inches lush and thick, like a shag rug. Lucky for me the Buzzsaw (PW w/ a couple of balancing lead strips) and Mr. Shanky (10.5 TaylorMade boomstick) play well in tandem and I was able to bushwhack a decent approach shot. [that; of course, mysteriously went missing when I know for damn sure it at least clipped the front of the green]

I think Mr. Willem may have a few pics and when he has the opportunity I'll slap them in a post as well.

Yeah....that was a real decision

It's a great day in the life of any individual when they make the executive decision to place their Garage's phone number as one of the speed-dial options in their mobile phone. I've just made the call, W's autobody is now speed dial #3 for me. It's fitting, because that is exactly the number of payments left before I own the truck outright. The decision now facing me is whether to suck it up and get a new vehicle or bury Frank in the ground after another couple years of abuse. If he can take the abuse... I'm anticipating that this month Frank will end up dessimating the greater part of three paychecks. 3 paychecks left, three payments left, #3 on speed dial. Done, done & done.

Sunday River

I'm going to give the golf trip to Sunday River an 8 on a scale of 1-10: 10 being the highest. The schedule broke down quite differently than I had anticipated in the previous post. Breakfast, 18 holes on the most awe inspiring course I've played on. Just being on the mountain was good enough, being up there golfing was a bonus. The course was challenging, and I guess it was a bit dry..no rain or something like that. So there were patches of funk, and a couple of greens were under repair, over all it was great. I started out the day playing bogey golf, that didn't last too long and my game fell apart like it was supposed to. Every outing tends to have those 2-3 shots that make you feel like a pro, that keep you returning to the course to give it another whack, my day was loaded with them Saturday. (After a long day out in the sun nothing is better than a piss warm pool and a boiling hottub.)

If you happen to make it to Sunday River, Stoo's Brews are darn tastey. I would stay away from the 420 I.P.A. though, it kinda tasted like feet smell. No joke. (his Porter is good). Stoo is the brewmaster for the pub we migrated to for evening refreshments. Resort towns are nice if you catch them inseason, or off season if you want to be alone. I think the 4 of us were the only people in one wing of the Hotel. 5floors, at least 500 rooms, 4 dudes.

I wanted to pick a few details from the trip to highlight the adventure, but couldn't narrow the field. It was just a flat out awesome trip.

And now,.,..........ANNNNND NOW, I'm back in the office, thinking that I should move to Maine, or get a better job that allows for weekends like this one more frequently.

My phone died Friday evening so no pics from this guy.

Turducket w/..... aaaAH, F-it!

If only I could cook up an Ostrich, stuffed with an emu, stuffed with a swan, stuffed with a goose, stuffed with a turkey, stuffed with bald eagle, stuffed with a duck, stuffed with a chicken, stuffed with a squab, stuffed with a cornish game hen, stuffed with a robin, stuffed with a little peeping nightmare of a baby robin, stuffed with a humming bird wrapped in bacon with a garlic clove stuck in it's ass..... mmmmmmmm Add, high fire walk in kiln and baste with a wicker broom and bucket of rosemary butter. Garnish with a single medium sized baked potato and parsley. I'm pretty positive that.... yup => "That would be awesome."

And that concludes Today's "suprise" Randomness.

Have you ever been trimming your beard/goatee/sideburns when the plastic attachment on the clipper breaks? I hadn't had the pleasure until today. Now I have to re-grow the sideburns. I missed buzzing a clear path to the top of my melon by one firing synapse. Had to re-evaluate the length of the goatee, and finished with salon scissors and a minature beard comb. Zohan beeatches.

Fall in Pieces

Miss E., soon to be Miss J. here are a few of the fallish pieces that I can snag on your behalf. Shhhhh Be Vewwwy vewwy qwwiet.

It's a small sampling of the minor components that could make for a dynamic card at a reception table. Stagger Lurch Trip Stumble and Fall, right back into your own seat=> "it says it right there on the card" : )

Thanks Frank

It was inevitable, I know my ride and when it's heavy..there's something amiss. Periodically whilst driving at the suggested speed limit on highways I've had the pleasure of hearing a noise distinctly like the sound of someone throwing a handful of shrapnal into my wheelwell. I can feel it under my non-dominant driving foot. It's annoying, it disconcerting (3 payments left) so.. in order to drive and make the noise go away I crank the fan, juice the tunes and float away in the white noise of truck cab goodness. Last night, I lost one of my saving graces. The fan went kaput, hors de combat • \or-duh-kohng-BAH (the "ng" is not pronounced, but the preceding vowel is nasalized)\ • adjective or adverb: out of combat : disabled; if you will, I'm not canceling my weekend - I'm having a dinner with Miss Kate, Willem, Jacob, Emily, Z, and Toolio this Friday, prior to heading off for a Mancation of golf and ridiculosity. I doubt I can have it looked at prior to my departure. And will undoubtedly have to wait an additional week to meet with a ScrewHead with elephantitus of the gorilla sized mitts to plant his fist firmly in my posterior.

Stress is at a comparative all time high at the moment in my wayward existance. Fretting over a possible birth as museum professional again, busted truck, higher rent, additional med probs, and some friggin birds have decided to take over my balcony making it impossible to get my rare-meat eating, pasty, fuzzy white *ss out in the sunlight, for fear of scaring momma and poppa bird away and having the three little aliens decomp on on my watch.





I've decided to let them be, and they're now subletting my balcony until the wee ones can take flight. (I was gone 5days..and in that time they built a nest, popped out three blue eggy-weggs, hatched, and are already getting exponentially bigger) chirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirpchirp... welcome the sunrise oh ye vampire of the night, try to sleep big guy, I dare ya.

Oh! The places you won't go!

Fresh off a vacation that was unnervingly long. I sit in my cubicle thanking the powers that be for something to do in the evenings. Although I went a ton of places and met up with people to enjoy company with, I didn't make it to a few stops that I had originally planned and that just sucks. It all started in Boston, ended up in Saratoga, I missed the CT, Great White North connection, made it home to see that the moms is doing just fine w/o a gall bladder. I went out in the 'Dirt one evening to get it out of my system for another year. Postponed buying a new suit... and generally didn't make the best of my time away from the office.

The main reason for missing a few of the stops planned had to do more with logistics. The Frankensteiner is running a bit heavy. It's not on it's way to breaking down, me hopes. But it's just not feeling right. My trip to Bean town unloaded a 1/4 of a paycheck, not counting the extracurricular activities that I was able to indulge in. (that was just the gas). I had to play it safe for the last 2/3rds of my time off. If I was planning on seeing you at somepoint this past week and I didn't make it there, rest assured you've already been put on the top of the list for future visits.

The strangest part of the vacation was that I was able to sit down at various venues and catch a bit of cable television. "That sh*t is crack." Without the tube on a regular basis I'm generally not thinking about shows to watch, what may be on in a couple of days, I don't plan to be infront of the thing at certain times.... 4nights on vaca I was drawn into the stimuli, I enjoyed commercials, watched a bunch of different programs, caught a fight or two. If you've ever seen the movie The Dark Crystal... I felt like a podling getting suck dry of my essence. I'm glad I don't have the thing hooked up at the Oasis. I'd never leave and the specific gravity of my counch would increase exponentially.

I've been at work now for all of 10minutes and have already been asked to work a day this week that isn't normally scheduled. They want me to fill in on Friday evening. [I've already made plans and changing said plans doesn't suit me.] Should it be necessary to change those plans to hold onto my position here at the shop... I'll be leaving the Gaz at 2am Saturday morning, driving 8hrs to ME and playing golf at 10:40am after the trip. Sunday River Golf Club in Newry ME, I can't wait. (Specially if I drive the red-eye, I bet I can get there after only a few misturns in just enough time to tee-off). I don't expect that to happen, [crosses fingers]. When you work for a company with the perpensity to lay people off, especially when that company's product and overall operation are part of a dying breed. (print media is living with a cancerous tumor called the IntAr-webb) There are too many factors involved with making a decision when confronted with the prospect of working on a non-regularly scheduled day. More specifically, when confronted with the obove after 10 days of vacation out of the office.

And on that note, I'm still waiting to get some good news on the museum front, and am diligently planning a personal presentation that is nothing short of stellar. I think; when and if the time comes, I'm officially going to make the call to stop making smiley faces on my hamburgers with ketchup and mustard. "Get a hair cut and get a real job" thanks a heap Thorogood & the Destroyers. The song is caught in my head.