Ira and Mabel Kidder
I love the calm of Sunday morning. The teenagers are all passed out from late night activities, as are the adults. I’d be sleeping too, if I didn’t have to work.
Scheduling changes mean my workweek starts on Sunday afternoon. This is okay, but it’s taking some adjusting. Sundays are my ‘I don’t have to do a damn thing’ day, or have been for years. The upside is that by Monday night my workweek is half over. Read the rest of this entry »
Yeah, I hear you…
Aah, Sunday morning. How you used to be my time for quiet reflection. If not making my way home from Saturday night, I’d be lazing about, contemplating the universe, watching an old movie. Now? It’s worktime. (Pout.) Although I like the new scheduling, (Sunday through Wednesday) I find it hard to get on that ‘Monday morning roll’ I’m so used to. C’mon coffee!
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Tough and ruthless, or rough and toothless?
I was raised not to brag. My parents (and later Def Leppard) preached Action! Not Words! Those who can, do. Those who can’t? They teach. The ones who talk about sex so much probably aren’t getting any. (I tried to prove mom wrong on that one.) Tooting ones own horn was looked down upon at our house. But.. last night I did something so macho sounding I have to puff my feathers just a bit.
And to those idiots who said Portland isn’t a manly city? Here’s a couple of middle fingers upraised in your general direction.
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Greetings from Camp Crystal Lake
I was unintentionally geeky yesterday. While everyone else was drooling over Battlestar Galactica, I went retro with my entertainment. Did anyone look at the calendar yesterday? It was Friday the 13th. Because all the stuff I want to watch has varying degrees of ‘wait’ on it, Netflix sent me the next available thing: His Name was Jason: 30 Years of Friday the 13th. Read the rest of this entry »
I’s Without a Face
Spring is a season of change, of rebirth. It was five years (and a month) ago she cut my hair for the first time. I went from shaggy hair and a beard to short hair and a goatee. My relationship with Clairissa has been covered extensively, from the wacky beginning to the growing friendship to the ‘friends-without-benefits’ thing it evolved into. (I would argue that I got lots of benefits, but not in the traditional sense.) Today she left town, gone for good. I felt I should do something dramatic for her departure.
I hereby dub thee…
MinceMeat.
He’s an older guy, with mental issues and extreme drug issues. We call him that because of his mincing steps. He paces tippy-toed up and down the avenue, panhandling and talking to himself. He’s harmless, so far…
What, you think only my co-workers get the cool nicknames? Au contraire!
Fair warning: Some upcoming content can be considered offensive, due to its racial and cultural insensitivity. Decidedly un-PC.
In other words, business as usual!
The advent of the credit card has made it much easier for cashiers to personalize their customer service. I’ve been able to ‘recognize’ celebrities that would have gone under the radar otherwise. It helps when a person is a problem child; if you call them by name it dawns on them that I could just tell the cops that, and doink, probation revoked! Great behavioral tool. This is not about them so much, but the other interesting types, the ones who don’t use credit cards. We have to call them something, and coming up with the perfect nickname is a great passtime. Read the rest of this entry »
A little off the top, please…
Earlier I bitched about how Fat Tuesday was so lame this year. I wasn’t too bummed out, as I knew what was in store for me. For those of you who think I have boobs on the brain, the end of this post has irrefutable photographic evidence proving so. (Not graphic, but probably NSFW.)
Wait for it…
Sunday night marked a special occasion. Clairissa is moving to San Diego in a week, so we decided to make my last official haircut a doozy. I hadn’t had a topless haircut since my birthday nine months ago. (It was the last time I drank.) I mused how we’d have had just enough time to gestate a baby, how it seemed so long ago, yet just like yesterday, etc… Time flies when you’re having fun, and we’ve had a lot of fun over the past nine months.
Hell, we’ve had a lot of fun over the past five years. That’s how long we’ve been seeing each other. Professionally and otherwise. Read the rest of this entry »
Dingleberry Gazette 