%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |   A little bit of everything, colored my own way. |
 BLOG CHALLENGE WINNER FOR SEPTEMBER 2011 AND APRIL 2012!! ** Image ID #1901871 Unavailable **  After almost a year away, I've decided to revisit Blogville. I'm refreshed and ready...this time around it'll be a little different. I'll talk about a little bit of everything...music, sports, retail life, and more. It's not for everyone...you might not like it, but someone you know (and possibly detest) probably will! WHO THE HELL DO I THINK I AM??  We're gonna find out one way or another!  Relax, enjoy, leave a comment, tell your friends... A special thanks to Julie D - PUBLISHED!  for the 2011 Quill Awards image!"There is only one way...it is THE WAY." -Photo Jesus  "Can't you count to one??"  Thanks for stopping by and showing your support!  |
THE PROMPT: "Invalid Entry"  Good evening folks...only got about an hour and a half to bang this out, so let's do it! I had a similar situation as 30DBC Creator/Founder . I'd say it was about 4 and a half, maybe five years ago. I'd gotten out of the hospital and wasn't ready to go to work. I'd just received my last bit of sustainable income in the form of a check, and was craving food. So I did what any responsible human being does in that situation  . I went to a bar.I really wanted their chili, and they cashed checks. Plus, if you went there during specific hours, they served beer. So I ordered a bowl of chili and a pint, and like I always did at this bar, I threw a few dollars in the jukebox. It wasn't very crowded for a Thursday afternoon. So as I'm mawin' down my chili, this dude sits down next to me and starts kickin' up conversation. And if you know me, when I'm out anywhere by myself eatin' a meal, you only better be tryin' to talk to me if I'm on fire. But this dude was really into the music, askin' me about it and whatnot, so I obliged him. I don't even remember what was playin' at the time; it's irrelevant. So we shot the shit for a little bit, played some darts, and I felt comfortable with this guy. Didn't seem shady or anything. And we had a good connection, because we hit it off really good. And it's funny, I don't remember his name, but I'm pretty sure it was Jesus (and not the biblical Jesus...more like "Hey, Suess" which in retrospect, was fitting). We were talkin' about bands and music and writing, and he was a writer (he pulled out his notebook to prove it), and I thought to myself "This cat's for real!" I figured what the hell, and I invited him back to my place for a few beers, better music, and to talk about writing. Jesuess was cool with that. So we headed back to 542. He was amazed at my massive collection of cd's and notebooks. We started goin' over each other's work. We may have even collaborated on a few items. He said I reminded him of a longtime friend, Richie. So that's what he called me. Whatever. When we were at the bar, he was there waiting to catch the bus; since I was unemployed and lost my car, I couldn't take him home. I let him crash the night on my couch. No prob. We hung out the next day for awhile. I think we got somethin' to eat, had a few beers, and he had to get home, so I let him use my phone so he could call his sister. Turned out his sister had a job that required her to go to NYC a few weekends a month...because she was a prostitute! So she came to pick him up, and I met her outside. She could smell the booze on his breath...and lit into me for getting him drunk! I was like, "Hell no! I didn't force him to drink or anything! He did it himself!" She was like, "You know you ain't supposta be doin' that, Jesuess!" I just walked away. Dude had my number if he ever got his phone turned back on and wanted to hang. A few weeks later, as I was gettin' out of the shower, I heard a commotion at my back window. It was Jesuess, shoutin' "Richie! Richie! You home?" through the window while he was pryin' at the screen. I was like, dude, hold on, and I let him in. After a few minutes of catchin' up, he said he needed a place to stay for a little while. He'd lost his job and his family kicked him out. I knew I had to be strong, knowing I wouldn't have any money coming in until at least when my unemployment kicked in, but at the same time, I couldn't just let this dude live out on the street. It was the week of Thanksgiving and all...how could I do that? Besides, 542 was plenty big enough for two. So I told him, "You can stay here as long as you want, but you have to get a job or somethin' to help out around here". Very appreciative, that Jesuess. I was having my own problems with my family, and they weren't being supportive of anything I was doing, so I figured I could use the company while I tried to get back on my feet. The first thing this cat did was call a friend of his to score weed. And I haven't done that in at least ten years, and had no interest in it, but ok. He fires up a J, and all the sudden the neighbors upstairs are bangin' on the door, askin' if we're smokin' pot. So I lied and said we were cooking and it didn't turn out right. The next few days were aggrivating. He cleaned out my fridge and food cabinets, and I don't mean that in a good way. The final straw was on a Sunday. My parents called to see if I wanted any Thanksgiving leftovers, and that they were sorry about forgetting about me that Thanksgiving. So I said I'd be over in a little bit...just had to take care of a few things. Jesuess started getting into my medicine cabinet. I was on two prescriptions at the time, and my supply was rapidly diminshing. He'd been around for almost a week, and he had done nothing but sleep and watch tv. Didn't bother to try and find a job. At least I had a plan...this cat didn't. So it was time. I had to kick him out. I said, "Look dude, it's been fun, but you're not doing a damn thing around here. I need you out. NOW! I can't live like this, you can't live like this, and you've got to go." And he was pissed and hurt and boo-hoo, whatever. But there was no way I was gonna let him drag me down by supporting him on no income. Life doesn't work that way. It was the early afternoon. I told him I was leaving at 5pm, and suggested he do the same. This way he at least had a shower and whatever food was left in the house to use up for a meal. And that was that. Five o'clock came and I was ready. He grabbed what little he had and we left. And when the time came, he went one way, and I went another. I don't think we even shook hands or anything. I think I just peaced him out and went on my way, while he went toward the bus stop. He tried calling me once or twice after that, but I never answered. I couldn't do it anymore. I'd had enough of being taken advantage of. My niceness can only take so much and go so far...after that, I have to do what I need to do in order to survive. MUSICAL BREAK!! "The easiest and the hardest word to say, only got two letters, only takes a second to say it." VITAL STATS:  Yup, I got nothin' today. Slow night at work, with the usual inappropriateness. Slow nights = less opportunities to interact with the idiotic percentage of the population, hence no funny stories about that.And now I'mma go catch up on some emails and whatnot, and sleep in a little before the bloodwork happens tomorrow afternoon. Man, that's gonna suck. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| THE PROMPT: "Monday Muse" Good evening everybody! What's happenin'? Tonight we're led by skilled bloggist Prosperous Snow celebrating  , who's taken time from her two other offsite blogs to share with us her Monday Muse. Three blogs? Wow...I barely have enough nourishment to satisfy one blog on a daily basis, and Snow's got three? Let me know how ya grew all those extra hands to type them all with!  So my Monday Muse...takes away my ability to choose...allows no clues...knows how to confuse...draws into my spirit to dampen my fuse...oh, my Monday Muse. Well, if I had one, I imagine that's how it would be. I typically don't do much on Mondays; today being the exception in that I worked. So I had a reason to accomplish something. But this concept of a muse, as romantic as it seems, doesn't exist for me. I just kinda go with the flow, and whatever comes out is what comes out. Sure, sometimes I have motivation, but that's purely a personal thing, I assume. There is no diety hovering over me, waiting to tap me on the shoulder with a pen saying, "It's time." Quite the contrary, actually. Once I saw the prompt my mind went blank. I'm talking bleached canvas blank. I won't say I panicked, but I was uneasy. So I did what I do best in these situations...I procrastinated. Perhaps that was my muse's way of staying in control...by staying in the background and away from the scenes, drawing me back until it feels like I've wasted enough time and am closer to the deadline, so I feel like I've got a little pressure and can respond in some kind of moving way. The kind of way where I think I've just written the most random things, but everybody comes away feeling something special that I, as the writer of it, didn't even notice. If that's the case, and that's my muse, I'm naming him Holden. MUSICAL BREAK!! Since we're on the subject, I'll take the easy way out and put this on tonight. VITAL STATS:  World, be put on notice! Tonight is the debut of my soon-to-be-famous, secret recipe, homemade spaghetti sauce! I made a small test batch for myself last night (first time ever) and it turned out way more awesome than the store-bought junk, so I green-lighted myself the opportunity to make it for the rest of the house tonight. One out of three so far has enjoyed it; the other two are at work. Ladies and gentlemen, consider this another notch in my rolling pin, for I have finally celebrated the Italian part of my heritage properly by creating a homemade sauce that does. not. suck. And I think that's how my muse, Holden, sneaks up on me. It was just me for dinner last night, wasn't sure what I wanted, saw the ingredients, and was like, "Dude, why the eff not?" Ahhh, Holden, you sneaky lil' bastage. From the files of Retail Idiocity: A customer comes to the checkout and buys two bottles of Finest Natural vitamins. She cashes out, and I'm called up front for assistance. She asked me why they weren't on sale. I looked at the ad and explained to her that the brand she purchased was, in fact, not on sale this week, but other brands were. She shows me the bottle, which is marked "For distribution at Walgreens". That's all well and good, lady, but it's still Finest Natural. I explain to her that it is not a Walgreens brand product, and she is confused. I had to explain to her that there's a difference between a company making a product for us to sell, and Walgreens having their own products to sell. She's still not getting it. "So Walgreens has its own brand of vitamins?" she asked. "Yes, we do" I told her, being about as nice as I could be under the circumstances. "Well, what's it called then?" she asked me, sounding of disbelief. I took a breath, paused, and said, "Walgreens". And that's why I prefer not working on any day that ends in "y". So that's where the story for today ends, gentle readers. May your night find you all in good hands. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| THE PROMPT: "Invalid Entry" Good afternoon, and happy Sunday to everyone out there! I have to admit, I gushed a little inside when I saw this entry last night from Emily  . It's nice because it's a little more universally relatable, and I think out of everyone still involved in the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" , (I'm not keeping track so the number might be off) so if there's 10 of us, you'll probably see 10 different responses. Which can make things even more interesting.I have to admit, from my teen years through most of my adult life, had this question been posed to me I may have laughed. I didn't read much of anything outside of the newspaper and things of that nature. Maybe a few music or sports magazines. That was it. But it's funny how being unemployed can change things. A few years ago, I had just started a part-time (with full-time potential) position at a (now defunct) pharmacy chain, so I decided I'd need a second job to catch up on expenses. Walking through the mall, I noticed Waldenbooks was hiring. I figured, what the hell? How hard could it be? Dropped off my application and hoped for the call. And they called. Turned out what they were really looking for were seasonal employees to get them through Christmas and to staff their calendar stand. The manager who interviewed me was pretty cool. He asked me my reading interests, and I was embarrassed to answer that most of what I've read in the last 10 years had been the lyrics inside of all the cds I'd purchased while listening to the music. I cited The Tragically Hip as an example of how their music is like poetry to me, and how I could enjoy Gord Downie's lyrics with or without the music for the way it resonated to me. I must've impressed him enough to get the job...at the calendar stand. Occasionally I'd work in the store, mainly stocking the shelves and putting out magazines. It was barely enough to learn how to sell books. The most irritating thing? People coming in, saying, "I'm looking for this book; it's by some guy I don't remember. And the cover is red." And you had to figure out what it was. That, my friends, is no easy task. I was let go after the holidays. But sure enough, around springtime, I saw that they were hiring again. I walked in, talked to the manager, and he agreed to take me on, in the store. And I learned. I studied the shelves as I stocked them. I listened to customers. I read the Literary section of the newspaper more focused now than ever. And when that irritating customer who knew what they wanted but didn't know what it was came in, I was able to get enough information out of them to know what they wanted. It was a very gratifying feeling. I remember being at the top of their three main sales categories a few times. It was great! I also took full advantage of my employee discount. I stocked up on some classics, and some things I'd never had the chance to read before. And even though I was working two jobs, I found myself with a little time to read. I was taking the bus to the mall and back, so it was perfect. It was times like that where I discovered one of my very favorite reads...something a lot of others had to read for high school, but I wasn't one of them. I was probably 28 at the time, and it was The Catcher In The Rye by J.D. Salinger. Even though it was set in a different time, and the main character was significantly younger than I was, I felt a strong connection to Holden Caulfield. His spirit, his mannerisms, his sense of adventure while on a course of finding himself...they all felt very relatable. That alone is enough to make it a must-read. But what really hooked me wasn't so much the plot, but Salinger's writing style. He really was relating a story, and his used of italics in mid-sentence for emphasis really colored things in a way that made it seem like there was true emotion behind the printed words. No author I had read before had ever done that, or used it to the effect that Salinger had. Sadly, I had been promoted at my other job. I went down to two days a week at Waldenbooks, and after another promotion, had to leave Waldenbooks entirely. Maybe a year later, if not less, the store closed entirely. But my bookseller voyage didn't end there. A few years later, I was again out of work. Walking through a different mall, I noticed the old Waldenbooks there had been converted to a Borders Express location (Borders and Waldenbooks shared the same parent company). They too were hiring, not only for the holidays, but they were looking for keyholders as well. I introduced myself to the manager, told him about my experience with Waldenbooks, recognized a few of the employees who I'd spoken on the phone with a few years back, and they hired me. It was an amazing experience! I got to re-connect again with reading, taking advantage of my discount and the book-borrowing program. My collection of books is pretty massive and diverse. But Borders itself was having major financial problems, and after about a year and a half there, they closed my location and several other mall locations. And eventually, there no longer was a Borders anywhere. And while there may no longer be Borders, I still have the friends, the memories, the conversations, and the books. And that's as good as any paycheck to me. MUSICAL BREAK!! Our location sold a few cd's too. One holiday season, this band released an accompanyment to their major release a few months before, probably to cash in on their success during the holidays. I picked it up and was blown away by this collaboration...the song is amazing alone, but so much better here. The song is great, the lyrics are so poignant and meaningful, and Jay-Z's verse is crushing and spot-on. When I'm down, it's a go-to track to lift me up. VITAL STATS:  Just noticed in the last week that the weeds in our gardens, and especially between the house and garage and that walkway to the patio, are effin' out of control. And it's a beautiful day...not too hot or humid, so I should go out there and start weeding them. It's a damn project. There's that walkway, there's gardens all around the house, and then there's the patio behind the garage. But I've got a temporary out for now...on top of being already sensitive to too much exposure to the sun (I've had sunstroke and sun poisoning before, plus getting sunstroke again last spring helping my boy Adam clean up from tearing the roof off his folks' house), one of the warnings on my blood pressure meds says to avoid prolonged exposure to the sun. Otherwise, I'd probably be out there. Jess likes to keep the look of the gardens weed-free, so if that's one way I can make her happy, then ok, I'll do it. But I guess not today. Just want to send a li'l shout-out to the ladies out there on WDC, Facebook, and wherever else you come across this...  Happy Mother's Day!! I've always said that being a mother means being many things... a caregiver, a doctor, a nurse, a teacher, a cop, a psychiatrist, a judge, a cab driver, a chef, a coach, a fan, and so much more, all rolled into one. To all the moms out there that read this, please know you have my respect and admiration. It's an unpaid, 24/7 position that rarely gains appreciation outside of the reward you see when your child has done what you've hoped to do the day you pushed him or her out into the world. Thanks for all that you do.  Ok, fine readers...that's it for me today. Gonna relax, catch up on some of you, and get on with my day as only I can. Peace, love, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| THE PROMPT: "You all can relate a story about how your plans have changed and how you were put in a bind. Maybe you got out of it, and maybe you didn't. Follow that!" Good evening friends...sorry about the whole "Follow Me" fail last night. But luckily, I was "bailed out" in a way, if I suppose you can even call it that. And that's what led me to at least being able to give some sort of direction for today. Last night, Jess was still out at her girlie party. It was around 11, maybe 11:30-ish. Her son had recently come home from his galavanting and was entertaining a friend on the other side of the basement, which I had just redescended upon, in hopes of winding down for the night. The backstory: The plan was to get up around 7:30 and have Jess take me to work, and maybe have her other son pick me up, or else I'd need a ride home. No shortage of good people that I respect that would do that for me today. Now, let's back up, and see what really happened. The boy approaches me in the basement, and asks if I'll be needing to use the bathroom to shower in the morning, and what time (mindless of the fact that he was home earlier when I took my shower). I tell him that I've already showered, but I have to be to work at 8am and will need to at least get ready. He says, "Oh...well I have to be in Hamburg at 7:30 in the morning for training." Hamburg is at least 20 minutes, if not more, in the opposite-opposite-opposite direction of where I'm supposed to be at 8am. "So mom's gonna take me." Jaw? Meet floor. Really? It's after 11pm, and nobody's told me this? But I'm not surprised, because it's been a week of surprises. One kid's got an internship that I didn't know about, and this one's doing lifeguard training (which explains the random towel and swim trunks hanging over the shower the last few days). I mean, I know my memory's basically been going to shit lately, but come on! I know I prefer the solace of the basement with my beats at a reasonable volume, but damn, I need to know these things too! So now I'm thinking I have to wake up at least another 45 minutes to an hour earlier than I expected. As soon as I sit down at my desk, sure enough, I got at text from Jess. This conversation is not brought to you by OnStar. Jess (11:36pm): On my way. Still have to get gas. Me (11:44pm): Thank you for telling me about the change of tomorrow morning's plans. Jess (11:51pm): Didn't get that far yet. I wanted to talk to you in person and am trying to get Josh to take him. Me (11:54pm): Personal opinion: that won't happen. But cool, we've been up at the butt-ass crack of dawn the last 2 days. Why would I even get excited over thinking that 730 would be "sleeping in"? Jess: <no response> So this is what happened. She took her other son's car in the morning to take the kid to Hamburg, so I could take the car to work. But since she had to be to work at 2:30pm, I had to use my lunch break to shoot home, pick her up, and have her drop me back off at work. Luckily, I was able to at least get a bagel from Tim Horton's on my morning break (may I recommend the everything bagel with extra garden vegetable cream cheese...delish yo ). Bless the people I work with for being so awesome about our situation.Due to last night's circumstances, I did receive another change in plans when I got home from work. One kid had already gone to work for the night...I was expecting him to still be home and getting ready. The other, I expected, was gonna be at home since he didn't want to go to his dad's. I came home...to an empty house  . No fighting, no bickering, no weird shows on tv, no random useless info (which I don't mind) while I'm writing (which I really do mind), no mouths to figure out how to feed but my own, and so far, about three hours of silence. That, my friends, is what I refer to as a "win".So you'll forgive me for not staying up late and cranking out a midnight entry to be followed. But it did occur to me this afternoon at work..."Did I recycle a prompt from a previous "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" ? I think I inadvertantly might have. Oh well, you'll have that. At least you got somethin' from someone not named 30DBC Creator/Founder , who's had too much going on lately that he's needed to tend to rather than the cats that haven't been pickin' up the slack. Good on those who have, and I'm sorry for those who haven't...and peace to Earl for all he's been through lately.And that's the double twist-o-change-o of plans that my day has seen thus far. MUSICAL BREAK!! I'm just gonna shuffle the iPod a little and see what's good. Hold on...ok, I got this now. When I first heard this, and a lot of times since, I was confused. I didn't understand it, and placed my own meaning upon it. But they just released this video recently, and it's taken on a whole new meaning. The special effects are Dylan-esque in a few parts, and the message is simple but powerful. In a related note, I just got the tickets to their show here in June in the mail the other day...awesomesauce! VITAL STATS: Not much to speak of today. Got to where I needed to be and back. It's all good. Time for some unauthentic Mexican food, some good reads, and a night that lets me sleep late into the morning. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| THE PROMPT: "That Special Movie. Now, what could be so special about a movie that you watch it over and over again until the tape breaks, or the disk becomes so scratched up you can't play it on your computer any more? Was it worth spending 15 or more years trying to find it, even though you saw it once, just to see it again? Did the movie inspire you to take up writing? Was it the movie that you and your father used to watch together, and was perhaps the last one you saw with him before he passed away? Was it that movie that you and your partner saw when you first started dating- but you spent so much time staring into their eyes, and perhaps kissing (or even more) that you didn't actually watch it? Tell me why. Well well, what do we have here? Good evening fine people...it's a prompt from BIG BAD WOLF is hopping  . It's full of fun, even saucy, questions. Most of which I don't really have an answer to; others you fine people deserve to be shielded from sweaty, sticky details.Some of you who've been around here with me awhile might remember why I don't have the answers to these questions. I rarely watch movies at all anymore. Simply put: I don't have the attention span for them. Literally, figuratively, physically, any way you wish to slice it, I just can't do it. Out of maybe the last seven movies I've tried to watch, I've fallen asleep around twenty minutes into six of them. I just can't seem to do it. What's weirder is that I often have some trouble falling asleep, but I never think to put in a movie. It's always SportsCenter that's tucking me in, and the light volume is usually enough to get me under. What's even weirder? Between justjessica1 and I, we own about half of the movies out there that were committed to digital video disc. Ok, well, not quite, but we own a lot of titles. Most are hers; most of mine are music videos and kung-fu flicks. She's the movie collector. I'm the music collector hoarder. Her video collection looked like my music collection, and vice/versa. I think the problem with me and movies is something of the psychological nature. Yes, I can sit and watch a band play on a stage for two hours. Yes, I can watch their entire videography. But the latest bromance flick that looks hilarious? Out in twenty with a case of the z's, for real. But back to my point...I can't devote two hours of my life sitting on the couch, doing absolutely nothing while staring at a rectangular object showing images of things that move and talk and stuff. I need to be engaged. I need to be a part of it. And movies rarely engage that part of my brain. I can't seem to allow myself to get sucked in to the story enough to really feel like watching it is something I should be doing. And that's the other problem: I tend too much to see through the bullshit. Fakeness doesn't appeal to me. Things that will likely never happen to me don't appeal to me. I don't allow myself to even try to "get the joke". Fantasyland exists for me, just not in cinematic ways. All that said, I have one movie story that's stayed with me throughout my life (ok, I've got a few, but this one's my favorite). The summer between my junior and senior years of high school, I was addicted to the movie Major League, starring Charlie Sheen as a pitcher for the lowly Cleveland Indians, playing with a rag-tag bunch because the owner wanted to lose so much so she could move the team to Florida. This was the pre-tiger blood, "Winning!", batshit crazy Charlie Sheen...where he was merely doin' blow and hangin' out with cheap hookers. But anyway, I loved that movie. I might've watched it four times a week that summer, in between whatever else I had goin' on. When I was home, that movie was in the VCR. The lines in that movie, the way they were delivered, and the rags-to-riches storyline all hooked me. I still probably tear up a little at the ending...until I laugh at how awesome it is. I know, I know, cool story bro . I hear crickets and tumbleweeds rolling through the URL's. Time to move on...MUSICAL BREAK!! Charlie Sheen's character was known for his innaccuracy, and was given a nickname. As he started getting better, he'd come out to pitch to a variation of this song. VITAL STATS:  Quiet day, quiet night. Jess is off hosting one of her fancy girlie parties somewhere. Guess maybe it's a good time to plug her products. http://www.thirtyonegifts.com/ That's the company's basic link; each hostess I guess makes their own link. If anyone's interested (questions, hosting, buying) let me know, and I'll put you in touch. Holy crap...I've got to come up with something for tomorrow's "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" prompt! Problem: I'll probably be in bed before midnight, and I probably won't have time to do it before work at 8am...which means no prompt entry until after I get home after 4pm. Ohhhh nooooes! But don't worry...I'm kinda smart sometimes. I'll figure something out before I go to bed. Alright, that's it for today. Gonna catch up with you cats and see what's good out in your lives. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! Had to do it...and yup, after over 20 years, it still gets me a little misty. |
| THE PROMPT: "May 10 - Oh, how time flies." Good evening everyone...what up?? Happy 2024!  has a nice little entry today about how time flies, and how we tend to have to put the things we enjoy the most aside for things that we really need to take care of. And she ends her entry beautifully, like it should be on a motivational poster or something, with a picture of a mountain and a lion cub.And we've all played the victim been in the situation where "time flies when you're havin' fun", but today I've stumbled across something a little more profound than the overused cliche. I have discovered just how time walks.  We're a 3-driver (+1 in training) household, with two cars to go around. Now, I don't need to have a doctorate in Calculus to tell you that if you don't plan things accordingly, transporting everyone around properly can get a little tricky at times. Sometimes lateness occurs. And occasionally, some get left behind. Yesterday I told you all about my workday ("This one's about today." for those who need a refresher but are too lazy to scroll down). Well, today was pretty much the same thing, only I was one of the lucky ones who had to be in at 5:45 this morning to physically unload, and then put away, our delivery. I must mention that I was not alone in this early morning tomfoolery (nods at Julie D - PUBLISHED! ). And it's a damn good thing I bothered to look at my schedule the day before, or I would've assumed I was just coming in at 8am.Needless to say, this jumbled up the ride situation a little bit. justjessica1 was working 8am-4:30pm in an area we call "The Southtowns", or, like anyplace else around here, 20 minutes away. If I was 8am-4pm, I'd just let her drop me off and wait a little bit for her to pick me up (since her son has the other car for school/internship). But due to the incompetent nature of my schedule-keeping, coupled with the boy's internship hours, she would have to drop me off earlier and I'd have to fend for myself for a ride home (or wait three hours after my shift for her to come get me...not happenin', y'all). But there was no one available to go out in my direction. Luckily, it was a sunny day. It was warm enough to rock a hoodie and be comfortable. I decided, "Fuck this, I'mma walk home!" So I did. Let me do a little of the geography for ya. I work on the border of a town (Cheektowaga) and a village (Depew). I live on the border of Depew and Lancaster, just past the line in Lancaster. According to Mapquest and the route I took, it's a nine minute drive (give or take, depending on traffic and time of day) and approximately 3.88 miles. It wasn't a bad walk, actually. Only had to cross three busy intersections. The bulk of the journey was spent on the main road I work on, and after cutting over, I spent the rest on the road I live on. Easy enough. Approximate time of walking travel? One hour, twenty minutes. Hmmm...nine, or 80? I prefer nine, even if I did have the wind at my back. But it was nice. Kinda head-clearing in a way. Even if it practically negated me punching out at 2pm instead of my normal 4pm. Even though I had just worked eight hours, and spent the early part of the day lifting numerous things (large and small), including about 50 24-packs of bottled water. Even if we were down another person again today, and I was on my feet for damn near all of my shift. Even though I had to poop pretty fantastically about halfway through my journey (oh my gawd...it's May 10th...10 days into this challenge and no poop references? I must be maturing!  ). Truth is, it was some exercise. Would I've preferred it on a day at work where the physicality isn't as demanding? Yes. But what the hell. I did it, and it wasn't so bad.I guess the moral to this story is: know your schedule or walk home, sucka. MUSICAL BREAK!! The only thing that really sucked about that walk? Around the same time Jess made it to work, I realized I should've either grabbed my iPod, or at the very least the headphones I have for my Blackberry. A long walk without music is just that...a long walk. VITAL STATS:  It's a Taco Bell sponsored break time; I'll be right back. (And shhhh, Bonnie14222 about how bad it is for my ticker. Did I mention I put over four miles on these two legs today? ) K, I'm back. Great. Now not only do you all have Brother Nature  's late-nite hotline, but you've got my basic coordinates too. It's BYOB in this house, Bonnie14222 .  Lotta name-checkin' in this entry. I either gotta stop doin' that, or do it all the time. Time...there's that damn word again!Alright, gonna move along for the evening. If tomorrow was part two of my delivery day drama, tomorrow might be part two of my scheduling drama, as I'll have to be up at 5:30am again tomorrow, only this time to have Jess to work by 6. Well, what's a boy to do? Peace, love and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| THE PROMPT: "I would guess that Earl is travelling and or spending time with family. I won't have time to write anything until later tonight. If I may step up and offer a prompt in Earl's absence, I would suggest we write something about how we are enjoying the follow me concept in blogging. Include any topic that is close to you today as well. Hopefully Earl will return shortly." (quote attributed to Brother Nature ) Way to stay on the ball, Joel! Good evening friends. Well, it's almost like it's the "quartely review" (Or would "first third" sound more appropriate? Discuss it in the comments section.) for this month's special "Follow Me" edition of the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" , only we're reviewing the actual challenge portion today. Or, well, at least I am...haven't read any of the other participants yet.I know this might come off as offensive to some, or backhanded in a way, or me just being an ass, and I'm ok with any one or a combination of the three, but I much rather enjoy getting a prompt and writing as opposed to reading an entry first and then coming up with my own. But hear me out...the reason I say this is simple. Some of the opening entries nail the topic right on the head. They've said what I would've probably said had their subject been a normal prompt. And that's great that there are so many talented people in this round, but some days, I really hafta pull verbal teeth to say something that stands out from everything else (if in fact that's even happened so far this month). Some days, I'm just too exhausted and don't have the mental capacity to be so creative. And that's not me seeking pity; that's the truth. So while I'm still having fun, I'm really actually longing for the "Challenge War Chest"...and you know the deal between me and those prompts. Talk about a love/hate relationship...kinda feels like I dumped my trainwreck/supermodel girlfriend for a younger, sexier blog challenge, and now I'm thinking I'd take a trainwreck over the younger, sexier challenge because that trainwreck is also a supermodel. Yup, you don't give me an entry to follow today, and that's the analogy you get. I'mma tell you what...lemme take a little break. After the day I had, this will all be null and void and no one will remember this part of the entry happened, and we'll share a laugh and skip and hold virtual hands while staring at computer screens. Deal? MUSICAL BREAK!! This should set the mood appropriately, given how the week has gone so far. VITAL STATS: So let me tell you a little bit about today. Today was warehouse delivery day #1 this week. Two managers in at 5:45am, the store mananger in around 7:30-ish, and me at 8am. Being that it's Wednesday, it's also a busy day at receiving for some of our vendors, and I deal with some of that. I get my work done, I start helping put away our truck, eat lunch (and by the way, http://www.salsaritas.com/, not only does your website fail miserably when trying to view your menu on a smartphone, but if I've got to spend $4 for chips and queso, please put it in a box of some sort, kay? Just dumping a shit-ton of chips in a plastic shopping bag like I can get at the grocery store and tossing two capped cups of queso in the bag and tying it up? That's so ghetto.), and then get informed about what my afternoon's gonna look like.Turns out the manager has to leave to visit another store. That's cool; it's part of her job. The other two managers, who were scheduled to leave at 1:45pm, were allowed to leave around 1pm. One is staying later tomorrow, and the other was dispatched to local schools to hand out flyers about our "Educator Week" (or whatever the hell it's called) promotion...that started this week and should've been handed out Friday. And I'm still ok with this, because the closing manager is due in at 1:30pm. Only, she might not be in until 4pm. And, "Oh, it's ok if you stay past 4 o'clock, right?" Right. So it's not like I've never worked by myself running this store. I ran a store before as a manager (as in, I was the store manager). I can keep myself occupied and keep my team moving. That's not a problem. The problem is me, covering the photo lab over two half-hour breaks, while running a store, having to take care of customers with returns, taking in our cooler, frozen food, and tobacco delivery and putting it away, while dealing with the people at the photo kiosks who seem needier than infants, while getting change for every corner of the store, and being informed that we're "out of everything"...that's right ma'am...my shelves are bare!. So I was beat and a little stressed. But no big deal, because I'm still a little honored once in awhile that I can be in charge and keep the store from burning down. So 4pm rolls around. And I get it. The closing manager's got a sick baby. She doesn't have my number to text me anything like an ETA or to say she's on her way. I'm not too worried. But I'll be damned if between 4 and 4:30 (when she finally made it in), you'd never believe I got every single jerkoff walking around my community. The jerk who doesn't understand why we need a name, address and phone number when he's returning something and getting a large amount of cash back. The lady who wants to exchange her propane tank and wants to know what's taking so long while I'm accepting a beer delivery. The punkass who wants me to call another store because his mom needs these perfume sets, and the store keeps me on hold for 10 minutes because they're a busy store and won't answer their phone. The coworker that works with us and didn't get his Register Reward coupon for something he bought on Saturday, when the sale started Sunday, and really didn't want the mail-in form (standard procedure). Yup, you name it. They came in. Joel, I even think I saw Andre the Blog Monkey coming in, wearing a Hawaiian shirt and asking the ladies why we didn't carry golf balls, and then passing them business cards and winking . I'm always willing to "go above and beyond" or do the "extra mile" thing. But it never fails...once you're committed, expect it to go horribly. For he who expects little is seldom disappointed...and he who expects even less, probably works in retail.  On a positive note (c'mon, I'm always looking for small victories on rough days) we got in some new items for the snack department, which means that department must be getting reset soon. And my eyes did not deceive me...we got in our private label's newest entry in the snack game...bacon jerky!! Oh my lawd, it's delicious!! If my mouth could talk, it'd be thanking me for days!! My mouth has not enjoyed something this meaty and smoky and salty and tastilicious in a very long time. Too bad they only sent us two bags...this may become a dietary staple at some point very soon in my life. I'm only now dreaming of ways to try and cook with it. It's like eating a gigantic bacon bit. Why have I never heard of this before?? Ohhhh...I think I did, quite awhile ago. I think I saw a recipe for making it actually. I might have to look into that.And that's about it for tonight...grilled cheese and (real) bacon sandwiches for dinner, a shower, some downtime, and an early night for this guy, who's worn out and exhausted and has to be in at 5:45am for warehouse delivery day #2 tomorrow (and perhaps the 2nd-busiest vendor receiving day of the week). Fun times. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| THE PROMPT: "Invalid Entry" Good evening everyone! Well, I'm not gonna be that guy to ruin the "shaking off of the somber tone" Brother Nature was referring to in his entry, suggesting you tell everyone about the first thing you've written, which, ironically, was titled Death and spoke of it through death's perspective. I think I was in 7th grade at the time, it was an assignment for English class, and it was the first time a teacher had ever praised me in that way. I may even have saved it, but I'm not looking for it at this ungodly hour.That's not to say I didn't write when I was younger....even as far back as elementary school I was still authoring. I'd take a little notepad, draw tiny little pictures of trucks or dogs, and write a few words about them. Then I'd assemble them to look like a little book. Damn, looks like I was into publishing too! But that's not the only thing I did. Around the same age, my dad gave us a ton of old football cards. I wanna say they were Topps cards from 1978. And what little kid knows better and treats these things with respect? Who were we to know someday they might have value? Certainly not us...they were mere toys to us! I'd pick random cards and make teams out of different players, and then line them up in position on the floor and pretend they were really playing a game. I'd move them around and immitate legendary play-by-play man John Madden, calling the action. Killed a lot of time this way. But what always fascinated me more were the stats on the back, and these cards would have a fun little story on the back about the player...be it a crazy statline from a game, or a record, or something interesting personally referring to the player. I always read those with interest, as well as going to the library to read books about the NFL teams, their histories, and their greatest players. This all inspired me. I'd sit at the dining room table with my crayons, I'd grab a looseleaf piece of paper, and I'd make my own giant-sized football cards of myself. Of course, I was almost always the QB for the Buffalo Bills, and I almost always wore #12...after my hero, Joe Ferguson (because QB was the most impotant position on the team, and this was before Hall Of Famer Jim Kelly signed with Buffalo in the mid-eighties). I'd draw an awesome picture of me in action, and on the back I'd list my stats for all the years I "played". I'd start my career off slow, maybe get traded or released and picked up elsewhere, but in the end, I'd wind up having All-Pro seasons as the Bills' QB. I did that a lot when I was younger. I loved adding up the stats and being the hero. Cuz that's what kids dream about. To this day, I don't know what happened to my children's books or my oversized football cards. Sometimes I even made hockey cards where I was a Buffalo Sabre, or a baseball card where I was a New York Met. I'm sure they're somewhere, but not in my position. But I'm pretty positive that I still have that story I wrote in 7th grade about death. It's probably on the bookshelf right behind me. But I'm not interested in that, or all the essays I saved that I aced that were on books I'd never read. Well, I never read them 'til a lot later in life, that much I know. MUSICAL BREAK!! "Call it education, all those books I didn't read. They just sit there on the shelf lookin' much smarter than me." Perfect song for a break, I'll say. "All this dog and pony, we were still monkeys the whole time. We could not help from flingin' shit in our modern suits and ties." Stubborn beauty, well, very well then! VITAL STATS:  Best night ever at work, and I did it short a person. I guess we've been short here and there most of the last few days. But we got the store looking nice, as well as being ready for truck, I got my work done and managed to complete a few things off our task list (which was full of things nobody's done since I last worked, which was Saturday), and I set my own personal record for the fastest close (while managing to have all the money balanced), getting us out by 10:08pm. Now watch...let's see what I fucked up when I go in on the bright at 8am tomorrow.And with that, I'mma bid this place adieu for the time being, maybe see what the rest of you have said out there, and try and get some sleep. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| THE PROMPT: "Invalid Entry" Good afternoon, fine purveyors of all things righteous and good on the internet we share. blainecindy has provided us with yet another prompt that I can barely speak to, because the gist has been met in the opening salvos. Yet here I lay, armed to provide something of use to the masses. Let's see how this works out. When I'm on top of the world, I don't just have swagger. I am swagger. Swagger becomes my name in verb form. And when I'm on top of the world, the money's in the right spots, and having more isn't an issue. Bellies are full and throats are quenched when I'm on top of the world. And if there's ever a day when I can claim to all three of the above being in place, then I'm on top of the damn world! MUSICAL BREAK!! I don't often know what it's like to be on top of the world, but this might feel like it, I suppose... VITAL STATS: More workplace drama. Apparently we were supposed to fill out an anonymous survey through a renowned survey-taking corporation about our company and how well it engages us. I had forgotten to take that survey, which led my store manager to text me about it on my damn day off. So I took the damn survey from the luxury of my basement, on my own time. And they're not gonna like the answers, but what else is to be expected when you probably won't have a job in six months, and your boss hasn't said shit to you about it? Days when I can walk over to the landlord, pay the rent, and then hit the store to make dinner, keep myself satisfied, make a few calls after paying the phone bill, reschedule some appointments, make a customer service call or two, get my Atmos download card to finally work, and take that busted-ass survey? Hi world...I now sit atop you...please bring me your finest meats and cheeses. And now I either check up on you, take a nap, or look for another excuse to post what I'm going to post anyway. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| THE PROMPT: "Snow ~ Another Long Day" Good evening everyone. Such a great prompt from Prosperous Snow celebrating , and yet I find myself with almost no way to go with it out of many.Maybe it's because I had all damn day to mull it over, and there's enough going on that one thought cancels out the other. I'm not sure. Like I said in my comments to Snow, I save all my change. I have a large plastic bucket. It once held $5 worth of cheese balls. Now, the bottom rim of it alone can hold around $40 of change. That's around the point where I decide to cash it in at the Coinstar machine, paying 8.9 cents/dollar to convert my change into a cash voucher. It's a small price to pay for money I otherwise wouldn't think anything about. I imagine if I'd just wait until the bucket was full, I'd probably have a few hundred in there, easily. Dollars, that is. Today was a good day, otherwise. Did a few chores around the house, took a solid nap and ate some tasty snacks as my dinner. Picked up breakfast sandwiches from the local diner this morning for breakfast as well. Sometimes you need to spend a day off doing damn near nothing just to feel a little sense of accomplishment. MUSICAL BREAK!! Finally got my tickets to see this band! It's only been about 10 years or so. Well, this is an acoustic, non-full band version, but still, it's cool. VITAL STATS: Had the day off from retail hell, but that doesn't mean shit. G-Stamm texts me first thing to tell me that we've caught Clyde, a really, really old guy, stealing again. And that we did nothing but basically say, "Hey! Don't do that!" Really? He's still of sound mind, and he's not hurting for money, as evidenced by the vehicle he double-parks in the handicapped area. What I wanna know is, at what age is it ok for you to think it's ok that you're entitled to just flat-out steal anything you want from a store?That's it for today. Too busy countin' my proverbial pennies from heaven to have anything else of importance to say. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| THE PROMPT: "Invalid Entry" What's up y'all? I'm going with blainecindy's entry for the prompt 'cuz I don't remember seeing anything else about who was "leading" today's episode of the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" . Of course, I had dinner about a half an hour ago and I don't remember that either. Wow, so many ways to go. And only so many ways that won't shoot my blog's rating up to XXX. Ok. I got one. And I can talk about it now 'cuz it's more stupid than anything. We caught justjessica1's youngest son sneaking out of the house about a week and a half ago. I shouldn't say we caught him as much as he incriminated himself. Now, I swear up and down that her kids are good kids (as easily as they piss me off sometimes), but this is way out of character. He's 16. He said it was because his friend was distraught over not hanging out much recently. He did it because he knew if he would've asked, Jess would've said no. Because sleepovers on a school night that start at 1am aren't ridiculous or shady or anything. So the kid climbs out his window and runs a few blocks over to his friend's house, as the story goes. Here's the kicker, mind you: We were still up and awake and doing things in the house at the time. I was in the basement, while Jess was in the freakin' living room, for chrissakes. We could've been on the porch having a smoke, or she could've been looking right out of the large window she was seated next to while watching tv. He could've been nailed on the spot!! But no. The next morning, Jess woke up for work and noticed her boy's bedroom door was shut, which was unlike him, as it's usually cracked open at least. He came home the day before and slept for awhile because he wasn't feeling good, got up for dinner, and laid back down. As a concerned parent, she knocked on his door to make sure he was ok and didn't oversleep. She got nothin'. She tried the handle on his door, and again, nothin', but we knew there was a problem with his doorknob. Finally, she got the knob to turn, but the door itself wouldn't budge. She was finally able to get the door open enough to stick her head in. The boy had barracaded the door neatly with piles of folded laundry. There was no boy in the bed. The room was cold. The curtain was closed, and the screen was laying against the wall under the window. A bit of relief set in, but common sense hadn't. Jess decided to call the boy, and he answered his phone. "Where are you?" she asked, half freaked and half annoyed. "At school, mom" he said. But how did he get there? The side door was still dead-bolted, and he doesn't lock the deadbolt on his way out, plus the garage door wasn't opened. She still wasn't putting two and two together. He said he left early to go to his friend's house first. Jess was confused...why would he go out his window? Then she did the gradual "Ohhhh....myyyyyyy....gawwwwwd", "Now I get it" thing that people do when they finally realize what's happening. "You snuch out last night, didn't you?" she exclaimed, and he copped right up to it. Long story short, the kid's grounded indefinitely. No phone, and internet use only for school work (as best as we can police it). But the story doesn't end there, friends. The next night...the next freakin' night, we hear noises outside. I went to bed because I was beat. It was around 1am. Jess heard these noises for about twenty minutes. She walked by her boy's room, and his door again was shut. But this time, his alarm was going off. At 1am? On a school night? So she went into the room and there he was, out like a freakin' light, snorin' and all. But she kept hearing these noises, so finally she went out front. She crept around the side of the house, where she saw a figure in the darkness. It was the kid's girlfriend, trying to get his attention! She claimed she didn't sneak out, and since she couldn't talk to the boy outside of school, she was worried about him because of something that happened in a class with a teacher or something. So Jess let the girl in, woke the boy up, and gave them both a polite talking-to about how she "needs the truth" and "this shit needs to stop". The moral to this story is, look, I get it. Teenage kids do teenage things. I certainly had my share of fuck-ups, but I never had to sneak out of the house. Jess even told the kid, after he swore all he did was spend the night at his friend's, "That's all you did? If you're gonna sneak outta the house, at least do it for a good reason. Like a crazy party or something, ya know? Something I forbid you from doing. See? This is why you got caught. You're a good kid, and good kids don't know how to pull this shit and not get caught. The bad kids? They're bad because they know how not to get caught!" Go on 'head and use that for parenting advice, if ya ever need to. Who really got caught in the act? Us. Me in the basement away from where his room would be, and Jess, unassuming and such. And for a few days, that's all I heard about. From her and both the kids. And people wonder why I set up shop in the basement, right near the fridge where the beer lives. MUSICAL BREAK!! It may take me a few days to get this out of my system. I don't use Twitter that much but I tweeted that I was watching something I DVR'd last night. This was from it: And this may pertain more to the crux of the entry, in a troublemaking kind of way...the cultural references were never lost on me, unlike a lot of people who didn't "get the joke". Yet another notch in their belt of legendariousness (a word I just made up). VITAL STATS:  Cinco De Mayo! No Coronas were harmed during this entry. Slowest moving day ever. No, wait, they all have been lately. But today was pretty bad. And I'm out, playas. Gonna see what you've been up to and then sleep all freakin' day tomorrow. Can't find my Beastie Boys concert dvd, "Awesome, I F***in' Shot That!", or their video collection, which means we have too many dvds. So I'mma YouTube myself to sleep tonight. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| THE PROMPT: "Invalid Entry" Good evening, faithful readers. 30DBC Creator/Founder has supplied us with yet another blog entry to follow on our own whims...and frankly, I'm a little stuck. I don't know where to go with it. Let's see...it's kinda hook-y...could be a good title...hmmm...poetry time?Why Couldn't They Quit On That? It's a closed road sped upon too many times before. Their fancy cars all covered in vices galore. Is the world that they climbed the top of gonna be ready for the one when they drop off? It's an age, it's a rage, and it's on display but we don't care about your name, only your fame. The losers win, the winners sin, the sinner's bin is a pine box and the legacy begins. And enough is never enough. Why couldn't they quit on that? When life's so good sometimes it's tough. Why couldn't they quit on that? People get so lost when they're so found. There's an answer in every pill and bottle downed. And there's a reason why it's called "numbing the pain"; the only working antidote is doin' it again. We want them to be what they sing about and we don't care if their insides are out. We only want to know why they're alive but we're too busy watching how they die. And enough is never enough. Why couldn't they quit on that? When life's so good sometimes it's tough. Why couldn't they quit on that? Kurt Cobain, John Belushi, Tupac and Jim Morrisson. Jimi Hendrix, Jeff Buckley, Biggie and Janis Joplin. Why couldn't they? Why couldn't they? Why wouldn't they? Why should they? 'Cuz enough is never enough. Why couldn't they quit on that? When life's so good sometimes it's tough Why couldn't they...? Why couldn't they...? Wow...been a long time since I wrote a half-way decent poem. MUSICAL BREAK!! Celebs are in the news all the time for things other than what made them famous. Drug busts, outbursts, lavish purchases, etc. It's a tragedy when one is found dead of an overdose or some other drug-related issue, and they're celebrated. Today, the entertainment industry lost a great, great man. His groundbreaking crew was not only an incredible influence on me, but on millions of others. They're loved, revered, idolized...you name it. And this man's passing after a courageous three year battle with throat cancer will barely be remembered by most after all is said and done, but people like me will never forget. "My man MCA's got a beard like a billy goat!" R.I.P. MCA...I told Jess not too long ago that I could never imagine a world without these guys. Guess it's time to start imagining. VITAL STATS:  On the positive side, my boys in Atmosphere have finally booked a show in Buffalo, and I'm absolutely stoked to attend. I did, however, due to unforseen circumstances, miss the La Dispute show at Mohawk Place, and that means I'm not hangin' with my boy Adam tonight. Silver lining alert: got the house to myself 'cuz Jess took the kids out to the movies.And that's it for tonight. Got some catchin' up to do with the Challenge Challengers. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! R.I.P. Adam "My name is MCA, and I still do what I please" Yauch. |
| THE PROMPT: "Invalid Entry" Good afternoon y'all...I'm in a little better mood today. The sun's out, it's gorgeous, I got out of work at 1:45pm (the prize for going in at 5:45am), and in an hour I'll have the house to myself for the bulk of the evening...what more could I need? Bonnie14222 has supplied a nice entry for today's prompt, and she nailed it. But it's important to note that her methods aren't limited to grieving the death of a loved one. There are other situations where Bonnie's tips can come in handy.One is the loss of a job. Research has shown that people often equate the loss of a job to the loss of a loved one. I mean, how many of you out there know someone in your real world who seems like they're married to their work? I'll bet you can think of someone with little-to-no thought involved whatsoever. That's who I'm talkin' 'bout! You only have to look no further than yesterday's headlines. It happens every year...an athlete retires, struggles off the field, can't really find a place, gets in trouble, or worse. I don't know how many of you reading this are football fans, but I am, and the ugliness of a man removed from his livelihood reared its head just yesterday. http://espn.go.com/nfl/story/_/id/7886111/reflecting-football-junior-seau-death Surely, in many ways, this could've been prevented. I understand the argument that he chose to play a violent sport for as long as he did. And yes, as one of the top players at his position for so long, he got paid pretty handsomely for it as well. But ask his young kids if that money's worth it. I guarantee you they'd trade it all just to have their daddy back. The coping skills could've saved this man's life...instead, his family's now using them in some way to reconcile his life with his death. The second use would be during a divorce or the end of a relationship. I know nothing of the first part, but I've been through the second part. I know all about the second part, boy. Even though you know it's coming...even if the writing on the wall bears your penmanship...letting go is the easy part, and moving on is the hard part. Unless you've got that golden parachute of a lover waiting in the wings. But sometimes you don't. My close friends will know of a woman I'll speak of (as but one example). We'll just call her Crazy for lack of a real name. And the best way I can describe that relationship is it was a 2-and-a-half year relationship that went on for three years too long. We were in our late twenties...the primes of our lives. Everything was almost great (man, did I have bad eyes for the multiple red flags straight from the get-go ) from the start. Well, no, it wasn't, but as they say, love is blind. However, in this situation, love was not only blind, but deaf, dumb and stupid as well.Over time, there was pretty much one characteristic we shared that kept us together through all the fighting and drama and bullshit. And if you have to ask what it was, you'll never know . But toward the bitter end, when I knew we weren't gonna last, even then you're never really prepared for what happens when the other shoe finally drops. You don't know what's coming for you until it hits you. When the phone stops ringing; when the texts stop coming. It's almost a sickness; you'll take the fighting and the bullshit over the silence just to hear her voice, even if you're the one who pushed and pushed and pushed...even if you drove her to her limit.There was no replacement. Well, there was, but not in human form. I was suddenly alone. As you get older, friends become harder to connect with on a personal basis. It was easier to become a recluse. I'd basically go to work, go home, sleep, and repeat, until there was no longer a place to go to work. And when that happens, well, that's a story for another time. Well, now that I wasted enough of your time speaking to a perfect prompt entry...it's only time for the best part of my entry... MUSICAL BREAK!! Hmmm...what goodness does YouTube have in store for me today? Let's see...do I go with death or breakups? VITAL STATS:  Earlier in the spring, we toyed with the idea of buying a hammock. And dammit, I wish we'd quit playin' around and get one! Cuz getting up at 5:20am is no damn fun, and now I could be chillin' in shorts takin' a nap on a sweet-ass hammock. Damn. The bed? Doesn't seem quite as interesting actually.Ugh. Anyway, I'm off to catch a little sun or somethin' just to kill a few hours of alone time. Tryin' to make the best of it. Peace, love, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| THE PROMPT: "Invalid Entry" Hey everyone. Yeesh...what an entry to try to follow, ya know? To say anything but offer condolences almost seems disrespectful. My heart and support go out to 30DBC Creator/Founder and his family right now for their tragic loss. And I imagine it's got to be hard for anyone in the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" family right now to try and compose a little something about their life when one of our own is dealing with something like our pal Earl's going through.Death of a loved one always tends to overshadow the things we think of as important...so many things become trivialized, and rightfully so. If anything, it makes us take a step back and see life from a different perspective. It's a mighty, mighty force; it knows no name or race. It doesn't discriminate. It could be you or I at any given time. I should be shouting from the proverbial rooftops of the internet right now, about how I took first place in April's challenge, and how awesome it was to see that email this morning, and blah blah blah, but I can't do it. Maybe in a few days, maybe a week...who knows? Earl's prompt entry made me look inside a little...every once in awhile it's good to step back and take a little mental inventory or not only what's going on in your head, but of your surroundings too. And lo and behold, I had that situation presented to me in a big way when I went to my doctor's appointment this afternoon. I'm still relatively young. All of my facilities are pretty much still functioning. I'm not the healthiest person in the world, nor do I strive to be...and I accept this, mainly because I know I'm the one who can change it (as stubborn as I am). My doctor informed me today that I have high blood pressure. I know, it's not the end of the world and it surely pales in comparison to everything else going on. But it's never a good feeling to hear those words. He gave me a script for somethin'...I don't remember what. I've never been a big fan of Western medicine, or any medicine for that matter, but what the hell. Luckily I know a couple of trusted pharmacists that I can go to if I have any questions...and I'm sure I will. But enough about me. Say a prayer for Earl and his family. MUSICAL BREAK!! I think every adult male should watch the movie Big Fish...and I challenge them not to cry. VITAL STATS:  I've said enough for one day.Just do me a favor...make sure you tell someone, anyone, tonight, that you love them. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| THE PROMPT: "Invalid Entry" Ok everyone, here's the deal. Someone writes a blog entry to start the day, and everyone throws their two cents in after. Easy enough. Honestly, for the time I spend on the internet, if in fact I ever do come across this message, truth is, I'm redirected in seconds and I'm on the page I should be on. I don't have much of an issue here. I have a bigger problem (and really, aren't your problems always a little bigger than someone else's? ) and it's not so much of a problem as it is an inconvenience, because I've found a way to prevent it.It's right here on WDC, this problem of mine. It doesn't happen much, but often enough, and like I said, I've found a solution of sorts. My problem is that I never actually perform the act of "logging out" of WDC when I'm finished. I'm not on a shared computer, so I really never log out of anything. Don't ask me why I don't, because I don't really know. So here I am, done with WDC, close it out, maybe shut off my laptop for the night, maybe I don't, and there are times when I come back to WDC the following afternoon, open the site, and not even have to log back in. Boom, I'm ready to go. And I'm firing off word after line after sentence after paragraph of the most kick-ass blog entry I've ever written. I'll get loads of awesome comments and likes, some talent scout will discover me, and I'll wind up on some 4th-tier cable station's smash-hit tv show, Blogging With The Stars (which is now in its 4th season and is hosted by that guy who wrote the memoir and it turned out to be a fake and he cried on Oprah about it). And then I hit the "Save Entry" button, full of satisfied glee. Only, I'm redirected. "An error occurred. Please sign in to your account." And then my jaw drops. My fingers clench. My face gets hot. I click the back button, thinking it's ok. Yeah, if blank title and entry fields are ok. So I scream and grrrr, as if that's going to intimidate my stupid computer into bringing back the greatest entry in the history of the greatest anythings. I get up and walk away, angrier than all GTFO (because it's the American thing to do...blame someone or something else). And then I try to do the next best thing after I cool down. I attempt to recreate it after I've successfully logged back in...which never works. Ever. It is a shell of its original self (and yes, every blog entry is and of its own being), and I'm counting the millions I would've lost on endorsement deals I would've received after winning Blogging With The Stars ('cuz your homeboy over here totally would've won it). Then I cry a little inside at my foolishness and swear at my laptop that the next time it happens again, I'm pouring the wax from a lit candle all over it (and if you don't know what that means, stay tuned for the answer). But I've become a little wiser to prevent this situation from happening circumvent the feelings of aggrivation I get when this happens. I learned a little trick. I highlight and copy my whole effin' entry before I save it. That way, if I get that bullshit error message about not being logged in and the system thinking I haven't been active for 10-15 minutes, when I have been active within that time frame, but not the time frame of the last 16 hours before, all I have to do is paste the entry back into the field and retype my title. I know...it's child's play, internet style. But wait until the day it happens to you. Wait 'til you have to have the "typing of shame" entry. You'll know, friends. You'll know. MUSICAL BREAK!! Yup, I'm going T-Hip two nights in a row. Hey, it's still my blog even though someone else is supplying me with a reason to post. VITAL STATS: Slow night at work actually...nothing too crazy other than my creepy old lady molester person coming in to hit on me again. "Are you dropping off or picking up?" I ask her. "Neither" she says with a hint of what might've been sultryness in her voice 30 years ago. So I help her out, cash her out, and she hasn't given me enough cash but she's working on getting the change and says all playfully, "I'd never cheat youuuu!". I play my best straight face, wish her a good night, walk into my office, and tell my boss, "I'm glad I only ate half of that chicken sandwich, because I may have just thrown the other half of it up after what just happened."Other than that, not a whole lot goin' on today. Big day off tomorrow. Doctor's appointment. Just a follow-up. Hopefully. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| THE PROMPT: "Tell us about your journey thru the last 30 Days blogging. What did you think of the challenge this month? Any suggestions for future challenges? Tell us what you liked and what you didn't like." Good evening friends, family members, WDC crew and random strangers! What is up?? I've got a full belly and a cold beverage, I'm sunk into the heated massage chair, I'm bangin' out words on the Toshiba laptop, and I'm gonna share some of those words about the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" with you right now.This isn't my first rodeo...I entered in September and took home the virtual trophy. I came back and entered a few more times as well, with what I thought were even better results, but to no avail (and no hard feelings). I've seen this challenge at its peak, and I've seen it go through some rough spots as well. I want to first thank 30DBC Creator/Founder and Thundersbeard 30DBC JULY HOST for their time and efforts in bringing the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" back to its respectible and credible standards. They've done a fine job and deserve the bloglove swag.It's been one hell of a fun month over here, even if it may not have been my best work. I've had the great courtesy of reading a lot of interesting people's work. I feel a stronger sense of connection with this group than I've had with maybe any other group I've been involved with. I have to say that this is because of the "comment" stipulation presented for this round and going further...it's a simple equation: More Comments = More Interaction = Better Blog Entries. I fully, completely believe that. To me, it means I can just write. And sure, I'll still piss people off or say things they don't or won't understand, but it's so much more gratifying to know that there are some who do, and I don't have to worry as much about thinking, "Well, gee, maybe so-snd-so is going to be offended or isn't going to like it or me anymore because this is what I had to say". Nope...knowing that there are people out there that not only read this everyday because they have to, but because they want to, is the ultimate prize in itself. Yeah, it's one thing to see how much my view count goes up from day to day, but it's entirely another when you go on Facebook and an old friend or an ex-coworker or friends of friends of friends say to you "Oh, I love reading your blog" or anything else like that. No GP's, no merit badges, no ribbons or trophies can supply that. And that's not why I do this; not to win. I'm here for the people that came to see me, and I'm here because there's people I've met over my time here that I love to read. What don't I like? Well, let me dance around that by asking, "What would I change?" Y'all know I've made it no secret that I despise don't care for the "serial prompts", whether in story form or as a real-life experience. I mean, when people are almost dying or having these mysterious occurrences or joining a writing contest, and the best I can come up with is getting arrested and spending a few hours in jail? That's time I could be spending writing something of more worth, in my opinion. How would I change that? I don't know. I just don't feel comfortable saying any idea I have might work, just because I know it'd work for me. That part of the challenge isn't about just me. But I have to give credit where credit is due to Thundersbeard 30DBC JULY HOST , for his impeccable ability to adapt and change on the fly. The Friday/Saturday "How was your day" combo was getting kind of tired, and the institution of "Fun Friday" was a much better way to go. That's leadership at work. All in all, I'm pleased with this month's "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" . From the way it was ran to the fabulous crew of challengers we had, I'm excited for more. I think everyone did a great job this month, and like Brother Nature said to Bonnie14222 , "Everyone put some incredible entries out there. I kind of feel sorry for the judges." I couldn't agree more. They've got a tough job up ahead of them. Good luck to everyone in it this month...it's been a great time, I've met some wonderful people, and there's no clear-cut winner, which to me makes it all the more exciting.Oh, and to whomever is responsible for judging May's "Follow Me Blogging" edition of the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" , I'll take a men's medium. MUSICAL BREAK!! That's it for April. It's been real. Stand up and give yourselves a hand. "Either it'll move me, or it'll move right through me." Quite the performance...that right there about sums up the month for  thisguy .VITAL STATS:  Finally, after all the times I've entered this, a legit blue month!! So, I'm all set for May's edition of the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" , but I'm not understanding the format quite right yet. Any thoughts? From the "Scared The Shit Outta Ya, Didn't I?" file: justjessica1 was sittin' in her chair about to watch one of them movies that play on a little disc-thing just after dinner. I came over to stand behind her chair and it caught my eye. I left briefly to go to the bathroom and when I came back I realized she was watching the previews for the movie The Blind Side with Sandra Bullock. A part is shown where she's in a bad neighborhood, confronting a large group of thug lookin' dudes. She threatens them over their part in attempting to lead the young man she's taken in's life astray, and in the following silence I said, "'TIL THE GAT STARTS SPRAYIN'!!" at the tv. Jess screamed and jumped...I didn't realize that she knew I left the room but didn't know I'd returned. I scored myself quite the chuckle out of that.And so goes another month of this. Good times, good times. Peace, love and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| THE PROMPT: "It's that time of week to show you've been paying attention. Find something, everyone, throw something in. Find someone else's blog entry from the last week and discuss it in your own blog. Tell us why someone's entry resonated with you." Yes everybody, it's that time of the week. The time where I copy/paste the prompt down and walk away from my computer for a little while to really think about which blogger's entry this week stood out the most to me...and promptly get distracted by a million other things along the way. I believe I used to be for this kind of prompt as one of the changes to the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" ; now, I'm not so sure. But since I don't have a better idea, I'm probably the wiser to shut my mouth and play along...and I'm ok with that, in this instance.So there's Cindy's and Bonnie's near-death experiences, which were gripping tales of how short life can seemingly be when faced with a life emergency. And you've got Joel's supernatural thriller, also taken from the "Serial Prompt" section of the challenge. There's Big Bad Wolf's comments in his blog, which seems to say something by not saying much. And Snow's and Sunny's takes are all worth the time to read. Those were some of my favorites...no offense to anyone meant that I may have forgotten. It's just that these ones are the more memorable ones (and if I can remember it, it must've been noteworthy...I'm not goin' back and re-reading them all over, 'cuz if I wanted to do that, I'd judge the damn thing!). If ya held a gun to my head to pick one, I'd have to go with Joel aka Brother Nature for his serial entries. The dude knows how to spit a tale out onto the screen, that's fo' sho'. Reading him sometimes really does make you feel like you're sitting at the campfire with him...a guitar at his side and one of them harmonica holders with a harmonica in it strapped around his neck (what are those things called anyway? Anyone??) and a cooler full of Molson not far off. The bird that got stuck not once, but twice, in the window was all that I needed to see. Well job, Joel! And congrats to everyone who's made it thus far...only a couple days left!MUSICAL BREAK!! I'm guessing it was either the anchorman in this video or Tom Joad himself that was causing all of the supernatural havoc in the basement Joel speaks of. VITAL STATS:  This week twenty years ago was the anniversary of the Los Angeles Riots. No justice, no peace. Know justice, know peace. Jess' phone drama continues. She got Best Buy's corporate customer service to replace her phone with a brand new phone, finally. But when she went to pick it up, the guy she was supposed to deal with wasn't there and left no direction for anyone else to help her out. Maybe we should start tracking the gas mileage spent on this situation and get reimbursed for that crap too. The actual fallout from yesterday's carpet removal at my boy Adam's house? Didn't get out of bed 'til almost 1pm. My thighs were on fire. I have a nice blister on the palm-side right middle finger, opposite a knuckle (that's the 2nd-string space bar finger, for those of you scoring at home). My back feels better after moving directly from mattress to massage chair to hot shower. My forearms? Not as sore as I thought they'd be. I bought a vinyl album online last week as part of "National Record Store Day", and it came with a free digital download of the album. And I'll be damned...those things never work for me. It downloaded alright, and I saved it in my iTunes file, but it doesn't show up in my iTunes library. Turns out the stupid thing downloaded as a .zip file, and I'm too uncool with computers to know how to un.zip it. Luckily, I've got a customer service number I can call in the morning for this thing. Why did I have to be so blessed with the love of vinyl records and technology??That's enough for one night, fine people. Trying to psych myself up for work in the morning...three straight days off and then to go in on a Monday when I'm usually asleep is going to be a kick in the ass for this guy. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| THE PROMPT: "Describe a life experience so important to you it deserves to be told over multiple entries." Good evening friends...finally, the conclusion to this month's "Serial Prompts" is upon us. Can't wait to get this over with! Well, without further ado, here's part three of The Second Time This Ever Happened. So, it's a good time to tell you about the little community I'm finding myself being pulled over in. It's a village; really small parts of two neighboring towns that's situated in both towns. The population is approximately 15,000 (a number I thought was very high actually...but that's what the internet tells me so I'll believe it). They have their own school and local government. And, their own police force. Not that any of this directly has anything to do with the story. Which I'm going back to now. The officer again verified who the car belonged to and asked me if I knew my license was suspended . I told him I had no idea that it was (and really, shouldn't the DMV make you aware of these things?), and he told me of the previous violation I had about a year before (ironically, in the same village and a little further up on the same street). I had totally forgotten to pay the fine on that speeding ticket, so I had a suspended license."So what happens now?" I asked the cop. He told me he couldn't let me drive the car, and that it would have to be impounded. "Shit," I thought to myself, "that's not going to be a fun walk home." Little did I know that that wasn't going to be an issue. The officer reached to his waist and told me to face the car with my hands on it, and then he frisked me. He then told me to place my hands behind my back as he started reading me my rights. Holy shit! This isn't happening! It was too surreal...the cold metal of his handcuffs as they tightened against my wrist were an alarming jolt of alertness to what was all going on. He then, uhhh, "guided" me into the back of his police car. We waited there a few minutes for the tow truck to come and take the car, and we were off to the police station. Even though it was a short ride, it was highly uncomfortable...especially with the realization of being cuffed and stuffed beginning to settle in. Even though I was once a resident of this community for almost half my life, I'd never really been to the police station. And when I did have to go, it was never in through the back door. That couldn't have been good. Another fun fact of this particular police station? It had a basement. And that's when it occured to me that I wouldn't be signing some papers and walking home. After getting me processed, they let me make a phone call. I called work and told the manager on duty that now I wasn't going to be able to come in. Sensing he knew I was doing this on purpose, he asked in a little sing-songy voice, "What's wrong?" and I told him I was in jail. He was all like, "What?? Never mind...I really don't want to know." I then explained to the processing officer that I had to let Jess know where I was. He was cool with that and even let me use my cell phone. Bail was set at $200, and the car was at a lot down the street. Jess and Bro Mike rearranged the travel plans a little bit, and they turned around to come get me, but it wouldn't be right away...they were practically at Pop Diesel's already, and they'd have to stop at the ATM 'cuz the po-po only accepts cash money, no checks or credit. In the meantime, I was ushered off into another room with another cop, where he made me take out my earrings, take off my shoes and take the laces out, and strip down to my underwear. The contents of my pockets were emptied into a bin, and they took my glasses as well. Then they led me to an actual jail cell. Holy shit!! Who knew this village actually had real jail cells? Real bars and all! A little wooden bench to sit on, and a tiny stainless steel sink and toilet. I was equal parts amazed and humiliated. And I waited for what seemed like an eternity...kinda like when you call a company or business to complain and customer service puts you on hold to reach the appropriate person and you wait for three minutes but you're so angry that it feels like 15? Kinda like that. But they eventually came to get me and drop me off at home so they could get back on their way to the Bandits' game. Luckily, they only missed the first few minutes. And me, well, all I had to do was pay the previous fine on Monday when the clerk's office was open, and they'd reinstate my license. At my court date, all the charges (speeding and driving with a suspended license) were dismissed. And as for that Saturday night, I had the whole house to myself for a few hours...and I've yet to work a Saturday night still. MUSICAL BREAK!! There certainly are worse things than being in a tiny little village jail for about three hours. VITAL STATS: Yup, totally spent the day with my boy Adam, tearing out the carpet in his living room and leading upstairs. And we had a great time doing it...catching up on our goings-on, telling stories about the past, chatting over mutual friends, grabbing some lunch at http://www.tedsonline.com/, reminiscing over some great music, and, yeah, pulling out carpet. Aside from some sore hands and I'm sure a morning of wonderful forearm and lower back pain, it was a great time. As he said, it didn't even feel like work, but just like two dudes hangin' out and catchin' up. Love spendin' time with that guy...we could go a few weeks or months without seein' each other, and he could text me and say he needs help shovelling shit for six hours, and I'd be there in a heartbeat, no questions asked. He's that type of brother. I arrived home to find a few ladies upstairs, and a full array of appetizers and dips and all sorts of fun goodies for Jess' girlie party. And I'm pretty certain whatever money she might've made on her part of the party she pretty much turned around and spent on her partner's part of the party, and vice/versa. And it's all good. Whatever. She gets a ladies' night, I had my guys' day, and I eat snacky food like it's a meal and chill in the basement. Win-win.And that's it for the serial portion tonight's entry. Now I've gotta catch up on everyone else. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| THE PROMPT: "Describe a life experience so important to you it deserves to be told over multiple entries." Good evening everybody...yesterday we had part one of the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" 's Serial Life Experience portion of The Second Time This Ever Happened, where a scheduling conflict was interferring with my plans. Today is part two of that drama, so let's get right to it.Once it was finalized that I was indeed working and had realized there was nobody left to cover for me, I basically had no choice. Everyone I had tried to switch with knew why I wanted to switch, which meant everyone in the store knew what my plans were for the evening, and that meant calling in sick was basically not an option. Resigned to not going, I had to let Pop Diesel know, and he was disappointed but he understood. It would look bad calling in sick on the account of the Bandits' game, and I had only been with the company not even a year at that point, I believe, so I didn't want to look bad to my bosses. Little did I know, I'd be worrying about more important things that Saturday night. At this point, we had to find someone who could take the extra ticket off our hands. The first person I called was my little brother, and he was all about it. At least we didn't have to worry about that. Next was figuring out that day's transportation. Jess worked at her store from 8am-4pm, while I worked 3:30pm-10:30pm. Bro Mike stepped up to the plate on that one too...I took Jess to work in the morning, she brought a change of clothes, Bro Mike picked her and Pop Diesel, and they'd go to the game. Dad lived in the city anyway, and my bro lived five minutes from us, so it worked out perfect...that way I'd just take myself to and from work. Now, I dread working night shifts. I don't know why, but I've got the whole day to myself, and I work myself up in such knots because I don't want to go in. I feel like I don't get anything done during the day because I don't want to stop what I'm doing to have to get ready for work. I'm used to waking up, rushing around to get ready, and leaving right away, four out of the five workdays of the week. Sometimes if I have to wake up to take Jess to work, I'll go right back to sleep when I get home. Other times, I'll stay up for a little bit, and then take a nap, wake back up and start getting ready. And that's what happened on this particular Saturday...only I didn't wake up until 3:23pm. That would be the absolute latest time I could leave and be minimally late. And yeah, that wasn't happenin'. I called the store to let them know I was running late and that I'd be there as soon as I could. I hung up and got ready. Did you ever catch yourself running late and you get this weird adrenaline rush like everything has to be done super, super fast, and you think you're doing them super, super fast, but it still takes you the same amount of time to get ready? I remember that feeling while getting dressed and brushing my teeth. I may have even lost a minute in my haste. I didn't even have time to be jealous of them for going to the game, or to hate my job for being scheduled on a Saturday night. Those feelings would have to wait until the drive into work. And what a drive in that was. I'm normally a safe and cautious driver...alert and attentive, and I don't often take chances. But this time, I must've been in quite a daze. Driving down a residential street, I didn't notice how fast I was going until I heard the sirens and saw them cherries flashin' in my rearview. "Oh fuck," I thought to myself, "now I've really got a good excuse for being late." Everything was standard procedure. "Do you know why I pulled you over?" the officer asked. "No sir, I don't" I replied. Normally I pay close attention, but I had too many other things on my mind. I don't even remember how fast he said I was going, but it certainly wasn't 35mph in a nice, quiet neighborhood. "I'll need to see your license and registration" the cop said. I fished around for it and gave it to him. I waited like a hostage for what felt like an eternity. He finally came back and asked me who's name the car is in and I explained to him that it was under my girlfriend's name. Then he said those words. I'll never forget how they sounded...like the smell of burning garbage, but in my ear. "Sir, I'm gonna need you to step out of the vehicle." That's it for part two of The Second Time This Ever Happened. Come back tomorrow to see how this ends up! MUSICAL BREAK!! If and when this little excerpt of my life becomes a straight-to-DVD movie that you can get in gas stations for $3.99, this will definitely be on the soundtrack. VITAL STATS: Woke up this morning at 7:30am, started the car up, brushed my teeth and damn near passed out. There may have been a tiny little bit of spit-up too. Yup, wasn't goin' in to work today. I sank back into bed after shuttin' the car off, and immediately felt like the matress was cradling my body. I felt bad makin' that phone call too...my boss was already out of work again this week and it was one of the other manager's last day. I was gonna miss our little "going away/photo contest winner" pizza party. But dammit, I was tired, sore and exhausted. I needed more of a mental health day than anything. I didn't get out of bed until almost 1pm. It felt wonderfully liberating. I did manage to make it over to Supercuts for a nice little trim of my unruly hair. I tried goin' after work yesterday but when I called ahead they said it would be an hour wait. Fuck that...this kid doesn't wait for nothin' . So I called ahead today and it was like they couldn't wait to see me (and really, who can't ). So I show up, and it never fails...four cute little hotties all standing at their chairs, eyeing me down, while I get the fattest one holdin' up the building waiting for me at the counter. And don't judge me...just because I've placed my order doesn't mean I still can't see what else is on the menu.   As part of my newly created three day weekend, I had requested tomorrow off to help my boy Adam tear up some carpet in his living room (that always sounds awesomely hilarious in my 15-year-old mind whenever I say it). There will be food consumed, beverages beveraged on, and music playing from the time we start until the time we finish. Looking forward to spending some quality time helpin' out a great dude... ...because Jess is throwing another one of her "girlie parties" where a bunch of chicks come over and look at purses and handbags and gossip and talk and drink and stuff. And this time, it's being thrown in conjunction with another girl who throws girlie parties, only her parties revolve around food and drink done cheap and easy. So yeah, instead of lingering in the basement while the rest of the house reeks of estrogen, you're damn right I'm gonna be out fillin' up on the testosterone.Alright, sexy people who read this...I'm gonna go away now and see what else is goin' on. Have a great weekend...peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| THE PROMPT: "Describe a life experience so important to you it deserves to be told over multiple entries." Good evening friends...ahhh, the warm, loving "Serial" portion of this month's "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" . Everybody around these parts knows how much I love them . It really makes me have to think long and hard...and realize my life's really been that boring. No joke. Sure, I've done a lot of fantastical things during my journey, but not a lot of things I believe I could stretch out over the course of three whole days.But alas, I long to complete this month's challenge, so I racked my brain and something...let's call it a remembrance, shall we...popped into my craw and started spinnin' words around like a wounded bird trapped in a pail. So here it is, folks...a little something I'll title The Second Time This Ever Happened. It was a little more than two years ago, and Jess and I were throwin' out ideas for what to get my dad for his birthday. A typical brainstorming session...throw a bunch of shit at the wall and see what sticks. We had recently been to a Buffalo Bandits lacrosse game. Jess had never been to one (but I had been to a few) and she had a great time, so she suggested we take my dad. Cool! I loved it! Tickets to events as gifts for someone are great because it's like buying yourself a gift too .So we looked at the schedule, got tickets pretty far out in advance just to avoid scheduling conflicts, and told Pop Diesel to keep the date free because we had a surprise for him. He was excited. Going to a Bandits' game is hella fun around here and it's very reasonably-priced entertainment. They attract some of the biggest crowds in the National Lacrosse League, and their fans are the best in the league (and it's true...no bias or anything). The crowd has soooooo much passion and energy...and some of the best chants. Like when our goalie makes a big save, the arena announcer asks, "What's he got?" and the crowd shouts, "NOTHIN'!!", or my favorite (because it makes me chuckle...because inside I'm a perverted 15-year-old), when an opposing player gets a penalty, the announcer asks the crowd, "Where's he goin'?" and the crowd responds with "TO THE BOX! TO THE BOX! B-O-X BOX BOX BOX!!" All we had to do was request that Saturday night off from work. Because of the nature of Jess' position at the time, she made sure she got her request in and approved. Me? No big deal...I was runnin' the photo lab at my store at the time. Photo Jesus was in full effect. I never worked at Saturday night anyway, because I ran the lab and worked a night shift during the week so I didn't have to work weekends. Well, it probably wouldn't have hurt at the onset of this gifting process to request the night off anyway, even though I'd never worked a Saturday night in my life there. Sure enough, a few people requested the day off here and there, and when that week's schedule came out, I was scheduled to work 3:30pm-10:30pm. And there was no one available to switch shifts with, and no corresponding days off I could trade for. I was stuck. I was pissed. Afterwards I'd told my boss and a few coworkers about my plans...there was nothing anyone could do to help me out. They were more concerned about me calling in sick or not. I was like, "No, I wouldn't do that. I wouldn't screw you guys over like that and leave the photo lab to the manager. I'm not like that." Well, that, and I didn't trust the manager that was on duty that night to run the lab either .And that's a good place to leave off. Come back for part two, sometime around this time tomorrow. MUSICAL BREAK!! I'll even include this fantastic number tonight as a prelude to what you'll find out tomorrow. Consider it a "preview". VITAL STATS: So, I think some crazy, super-old lady was flirting with me today. She's a bit of a regular customer, and she was in with her super-old lady friend, returning some kind of pain ointment or something, but she didn't have a receipt or the packaging, so my boy G-Stamm (fun fact: he took over the photo lab when I was promoted to my current position) couldn't process her return for her and had to call me over. So I come over and look up the item to determine if we've sold it and for how much, and this woman keeps telling me she'll bring the box back for it tomorrow, to which I keep telling her it's not gonna matter. And they're chatting away, talkin' 'bout how she doesn't recognize me, and this and that. I finally get to the last part of the return...before I can give her her money back on a gift card, I need her name and address. She starts to tell me her address, but says, "You don't need the apartment number; you're not stopping over anytime soon. Are you?" I laughed and said, "Only if you're makin' somethin' good for dinner." She looked at me and said, and I quote, "I'm not one of them cougars!" Oy, the silly things old ladies say. Here's your gift card ma'am...please walk away now. Holy crap! It's my 200th entry! Who's buyin' drinks?! Well, that's enough excitement for one day. Time to see everyone else's "life experiences". Don't forget to catch part two of The Second Time This Ever Happened tomorrow...same bat-time, same bat-website-place-thingey. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
 Log in to Leave Feedback |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
