187 posts from 2007

Great Caesar's Apparitions; have I ever hit the skids in the blogosphere. In the past 3 weeks, I've morphed into your classic geriatric, but without the customary stubbornness. On one hand, I can count the number of times I didn't fall asleep before 10pm, which is an absolute travesty. It's currently 10:22pm on this New Year's Eve, and I've had to turn to java because, flying spaghetti monster forbid, I turn in before midnight. Ugh, and this new breakfast blend is as flat as an anorexic's torso. Now I know for future reference to add 3x the amount of grounds.

Anyway, onto what's happened in the past month or so. A few weekends ago, I played the third wheel as Maggie, C-Pants, and I met up at a local establishment for some spirits, libations, and one hell of a hefty dessert. Oh yeah, and some dinner that I vaguely remember. I'm sure the other members of my party have the pictures to prove that our dessert selection could've fed a family of 5. Soon after, we moved 50 feet over to the next bar/restaurant for one simple reason: the drinking room contained a vacant couch next to a fireplace (not pictured). I know that sounds tacky as all hell, but oh well. 

Moving onto Christmas vacation, another year was spent in that winter wonderland state known as Maine. For the past couple of years, I've been disappointed by the balmy, snow-less, 40-degree heat waves that have accompanied these vacations. Call me old-fashioned, but I prefer conditions where you can barely breathe because it's so cold. Much to my delight, as I approached my destination 'round midnight, the time & temperature on a bank message board read: 11:42PM, 2 degrees Fahrenheit. Pure bliss.

To Be Continued...

I'll preface this post by saying our program manager, who is no longer with us, used to be referred to as The Penguin. Reason being that she reminded everyone of the Batman villain.

Penguin

Not too long ago, I came across a stress-reducer, which also doubles as a time-waster called "Smack the Penguin." It's very simple. You are the Yeti with the icicle in the form of a baseball bat. Left-click to activate the penguin dive & again to swing. 

Multiple helicopters are circling above my apartment, and preventing me from entering Dreamworld. What is it they want from me? It's not my fault a copy of The George Mitchell Report is sitting on my coffee table.

The Thanksgiving holiday weekend came and went faster than the "Macarena," and with even less hullabaloo. The best part of Thursday came during the morning hours when Doc Paradox dropped in, before sojourning onto Atlantic City to visit his family. Prognostications, however, are not good for his attendance at KttD 2008, which I can understand since he lives adjacent to that larger, other ocean.

In my younger days, Thanksgiving afternoon automatically meant a front row seat with the television hoping for the Dallas Cowboys to once again lose. Who can forget the Bounty Bowl when the Philadelphia Eagles embarrassed the host team in their own stadium, or Randy Moss racking up 3 touchdowns in one game. This year, I spent some quality time in the kitchen preparing the mashed potatoes and biscuits. Damn maturity!

I can't really speak much for Friday, since the apartment was given a much-needed sprucing. Even I couldn't stand the unmentionable atrocities lurking within. I'm sure not all of them will be eliminated by the end of next week, which is my goal.

Saturday presented a much more pleasant evening since Crankypants agreed to a drink, more like two, at a semi-local establishment. The exchange of gifts from the Greatest Contest Ever provided the necessary impetus. When we first looked at the shelves behind the bars, I noticed a rather copious line of wine bottles aching to be drunk, to which C. replied "Fuck that. We're drinking beer." Bravissimo! My only complaint in regard to the bar/restaurant is the reduced space between the bar and the booths; meaning if all the seats at the bar are taken, be prepared to bump elbows with passers-by, regularly.

In the spirit of Thanksgiving, I present to everyone my mother: Ironwoman Triathlon Extraordinaire.

No grand finale, no drum rolls, no milking it. Just the top 5 comments from my awesome-o neighborhood.

#5 - I haven't found a comment to match the impact of the following. If it wasn't for MMB, there we be no "Crunch," or the tagline: "The God of All Cereals: Now With Marshmellows." All I did was slightly alter my nickname as a parody on Captain Hook. The idea backfired. And now I present the origin to you, even though I buried the lede.

"I missed the title, and thought you were referring to the new Modest Mouse. Then I soaked it all in and ran screaming from the room. You should be very, very guilty. Cap - I love your cereals."

I'm about to throw a monkey wrench into the fray, for the simple fact that there is no #4. Instead we have a tie for #3 between Jodi and Hot Rod. And since they're so apt to argue about anything (including brownies vs. pie), they are fit to be tied.

#T3 - Hot Rod: "This is true, but it has nothing to do with Pie, whose conscience is clean. I'd point out that you've made no effort to refute this claim, but that you have misguidedly attempted to implicate me. We both know that those to whom I linked are Jodi acolytes, and have such sworn their alliegence against me. I've no idea why. I am a cuddly wuddly teddy bear. But I digress...All of these people voted for brownie, but they would have voted for pie if another individual was championing pie's right and just cause. They fear reprisal. It is widely known that the Brownieublicans have supported "creative" interrogation methods."

#T3 - Jodi: "You're about as cuddly as a cactus. I have not interrogated anyone or tried to sway any votes. It is you, you pieocraps that are the most vocal about your inferior dessert. In fact, you've spent a lot of space in these here comments whining about the fact that you were losing for so very long despite how much you've shouted about how great you were. We Brownies, we don't need to shout about our greatness -- our chocolateyliciousness speaks for itself."

#2 - If there is just one scenario I could witness and then had to call it a life, it would be to witness Dabysan walking out after seeing Jeff Tweedy's: Sunken Treasure, intentionally mocking Wilco and Pavement.

"I did love going to that movie. The dirty looks I got as bounced out of the theater singing "heavy metal drummer don't you cut your hair" were priceless. Any thing that makes indie fans glance up from their shoes is impressive."

#1 - For reasons unknown, Soo documented his challenge to stuff 20 breadsticks in his mouth at the same time! Everyone was aghast at the photographic evidence...including Doc Paradox, our winner!!

"Good Lord in Heaven! Is this what happens when you stop smoking? Geez, I just get cranky and want more sex."

Eh. I'll jump off the same cliff that Maggie, Cranky, Mariser, Amy, Michelle, etc. have all leapt off. Just so you can also see #10-#6 on the list.

Your past life diagnosis:

We've reached the Top 10, finally. This will be a much-deserved holiday break once the list is done because I'm damn near exhausted. But, the show must go on...

#10 - Ericka put the clampdown on sister Jodi, who was egging her on about musical influences.

"Your obsession with my love for hotrod is borderline creepy. Geez, a girl can't just be friends with a boy anymore. Talk about oppressive."

#9 - MMB had some choice words for the plastic surgeon who defaced Kenny Rogers'...face.

"The "Men Who Look Like Kenny Rogers" site has entertained me at work for many an afternoon. It's a great example of what the internet is about. I bet the doctor that mangled his face hasn't gotten too much work - I wouldn't want to be known as the guy that did Kenny, and that business is all word of mouth. I bet he took an early retirement."

#8 - Mr. Knuckles reflected on how he'd like to go out when the time comes.

"Hey Nom, Thanks for the comments and contributions to the aging extravaganza. I've thought of keeping a good-bye cocktail of exit drops if a future need arises, however, I'd likely be so unfocused at the proper moment to use them that I'd most likely go and swallow a handful of hemorrhoid suppositories or a bottle of Viagra, which would likely put me into a peculiar state of advanced rigor mortis before killing my sorry ass!"

#7 - I was highly appreciative of Jon Dose offering his neighbors some eye candy in the form of Denise Milani. Not to mention, he looks out for those who may also become ill from too much candy.

"Entirely? to be upfront with you, I am not abreast of the actual definition of Bikini (other than it being the 'bomb' - bikini islands) I should bust out the dictionary. I hope that you are not visually diabetic. (I could send you a current picture of my ex as a source of insulin)"

#6 - Mariser posted an excerpt of Virginia Senator, Jim Webb getting into a verbal tussle with, well, I can't call him "President" Bush anymore. I always preferred G-Dub. Doc Paradox provided the perfect rebuttal for G-Dub's " “I didn’t ask you that,” Bush shot back. “I asked how he’s doing.”

"Webb should have replied: 'He's doing as well as any young man trying to nobly serve his country in an ill thought-out war. Speaking of which, how was your visit to Vietnam? First time there, right'?"

A rare Friday night edition. It's the first weekend where I can actually, you know, relax. Not that I don't mind the thrills and no spills of the last month. Sometimes this grizzled, old man needs his beauty rest. I noticed we're just on a collision course this year with Thanksgiving thanks [that was ugly] in large part to an unusually late daylight savings conversion. Therefore, the countdown continues tonight.

#15 - An innocent QotD begot another sibling quarrel between two of the Chromey sisters, with Brady-esque similarities. Jan (Tracy) maintained she has come up roses while Marcia (Jodi) has hit the skids.

"Well, hey... Marcia ended up on celebrity fit club, so she turned into a fatty patty. I am sure Jan stayed slim and trim and got the last laugh."

#14 - K Spot took it upon herself to restore some order to Cassandra's Complex, where the bulls were digging their hooves in & about to lock horns.

"Where the hell is my fire extinguisher? I guess a pimp handed slap will have to do. I am officially slappin' you all. pffft"

#13 - Staying with Cassandra's Complex, Soo Doh Nim came to Doc Paradox's aide when, again, the QotD game got rough.

"Who is Pants Party? Who shows up on someone else's site and posts comments like that? Aren't you late for the hipster's ball? I'm for violent repression and the killing of dissent on Vox. I say we start with Pants Party -- first we'll tie him up, then we'll destroy his Shuggie Otis and Modest Mouse EPs with a hammer."

#12 - W.B. Mook explained how the Mac vs. PC advertising campaign translates to their attractiveness on the human scale.

"Well, sure, but Apple is marketing to women and metrosexuals, so they're saying "I'm boyish, ruggedly cute, and sensitive. You wanna fuck... er... buy me." Proper brainwashed males will respond to "cheap and fun" in largely the same way. The analogy still holds."

#11 - Hotrod pressed Vanna on the issue of dressing semi-retro (a half century ago), believing it only encourages the desire to kick it up a notch and go Victorian! And Vanna could not contain herself.

"Oh, I know you already know that I am dying to wear a bustle and corset and have someone coif my hair on a daily basis. Thank you for not finding this odd."