tse-tse
8.4.2k5

My grrrl and I went camping a short ride outta the Bayarea and found us some nice weather. No fog bank anywhere in site. Turns out the little town nearby didn't have a fokkn GROCER in site. I don't really consider the "$0.99 Super Mercado" a store that I would even buy a can of beans from, and it turned out I was in the market for a can of beans because, like I just now mentioned, my grrrrl and I were camping and ya gotta eat beans for dinner when yr camping.
We circled around for quite some time and asked three different people where the goddamn Safeway was and each one of them said similar things like, "Oh yeh, Safeway ... It's down the block, two-three stop signs, hang a left, go up Henchy Point and there she is." And it was quite like that: Folks didn't know the names of the obvious things, like streets, that anyone can read can find, but insisted on giving directions specifying locally-known landmarks. You will, my friend, find hayseeds any damn where you wanna look.
Didn't ever find the Safeway. Ended up at TastyPop's Grill. Ordered a burger and just for fun, asked the guy behind the counter where the Safeway was. He said take a left at the second stoplight (see?) and go about a half-mile and she'll be on the right. "Big 'ol parking lot," he says. I don't believe him.
So we're waiting for our takeaway burgers, nearly starved, and in walks this scuzzball w/ a box of small things wrapped in plastic. He sets it on the counter and asks the guy if he wants to buy some sunglasses, two bucks a pair. Countrman paws through the box and finds a winner. "Two dollars, that it?" he asks. Scuzz says sure. Frycook comes over. "Two bucks? Really?" and starts looking through the box. Then the shake girl and the fountain lad. Everyone is fascinated by the box of $2 sunglasses. Then a customer, a big gal w/ 14 kids (all w/ ice cream cones, dripping everywhere) comes over and, "Woah! Two dollar sunglasses? Really?" Scuzzy guy has hit the jackpot. Big gal says, "Hey Murray! Get over and check out these TWO DOLLAR SUNGLASSES!" The customers stampede the box. The counterman says, "I need a mirror. Can I check these out in a mirror?" Scuzz agrees. I propose that we bail on the burgers, try the latest Safeway directions and get the hell away from the sunglasses. We do.
We never found the Safeway. He directed us to a Home Depot. There were five Home Depots, two OSH's and the biggest Lowes I ever seen in this one-horse town and no grocerys that had items over a dollar.
We ended up going back to the campsite. We had brought a cooler of beers and some spray cheese, Slim Jims and Triscuits, so we could tough out a college-style dinner out doors.
We did almost score a tasty bug that we found and thought about barbecueing, but as we pursued the fuzzy orange-and-black thing, this little toehead saw us and yelled, "What are you looking at" as he was running toward us. "Bug," I said. "Right there," and was pointing when the kid SLAMMED a net over it. He trapped it, then picked it up, shoved his face in real close for a look, then shrugged and said, "I dunno what it is." Then he opened the can he had with him and dropped in our dinner- er ... bug and left. He ran off without a "hey thanks," or "suckers" or nothing. I hate theives.

Tonight - Dylan's Pub.

Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!

Sorry I'm late. Mind the raccoons.

bye-ee!

whrr ... clik!

Hijacked!!!
8.3.2k5

Being a freelancer, I tend to have a lot of "vacation" time between jobs. Technically, it isn't REALLY vacation, as I'm actually getting paid for doing nuthin' (but still learning new software, updating my demo reel, networking for future gigs, and stuff like that). But sometimes, a REAL vacation comes along. One that involves travel to far away places, like Costa Rica or Greece. The kind of vacation that takes planning. Vaccinations, passports, stopping the newspaper, making sure someone is lined up to feed the cats.

But I got the last one covered as I usually have the same person feed my cats for me while we're gone. He has a key so all I have to do is call him and relay the dates I'll be gone. I was thinking, it would be a really terrible thing if I didn't tell him. Fats and Po'kchop would be livid...not to mentioned starved. I'm sure my friend, being the good friend that he is, would just normally check in if he had an inkling that I was going away, but forgot to tell him. He basically knows the routine, and, as I mentioned, has a key to my place. That also got me thinking that if that were to happen, I hope that he would never be pissed and ransack my house, or throw Mazzola Twister™ parties, or generally go through my stuff while I was gone. Then I thought, "He's a really great friend, he would NEVER do that."

I just wanted to add Happy 15th Weddin' Anniversary to Mr. and Mrs. Linkey-Loo Robot. Now THAT is something to celebrate!! Come on out and join them at The Orbit Room!!!!

Spot the reference!

Kiss my grits.

bye-ee!

whrr ... clik!

Souled Out
8.2.2k5

My brother once said, "You are all Jimi Hendrix assholes."

I don't have the slightest memory whatsoever of what he was talking about or who he was talking too; I can only guess that I was part of the party he addressed as "Jimi Hendrix assholes." I only know he said it because while cleaning my guns this week I found a scrap of a reciept for Kleen-Bore Formula 3 Gun Conditioner that on the opposite side said, "You are all Jimi Hendrix Assholes. -JAJ" Those would be my brother's initials. The handwriting was mine, but I don't remember anything about it.

Anyone care to guess what a "Jimi Hendrix Asshole" is? No "Find the Reference! tonight ... Clik on the link to 'splain "Jimi Hendrix asshole and I'll post yr ideas next week.

Tonight - Annie's Cocktail Lounge.

Explain "Jimi Hendrix Asshole."

Party on, Wayne.

bye-ee!

whrr ... clik!

Santa's Little Helper
8.1.2k5

I was thinking about 50 bucks and how I wish I had 50 bucks because I could get me a few things I figure I really need: Beer, ice, Blue Diamond Smokehouse Almonds and some Coppertone Sport Ultra Sweatproof Spray-on SPF 15 because I got a backyard, a lounge chair, a sunny day, an early Cubs road game from Philly and No Fucking Job to get in the way of drinking ice-cold beer and watching the game out in the back. 50 bucks would do it just fine.

I scored 50 bucks at the track one day. I had my racing form and handicapped the shit out of a Tri in the 4th ("Old Dad's Dingus" to Win, "Monkeyballs" to Place and a ugly horse named "Horseboy's KickAz Riding Crop" to Show, boxed). I was confident and went to place my bet. I stood in a long line and inched forward as Post Time approached. Most people around me were doing last minute handicapping: Circling, underlining, scratching things out, calculating and divining the winners. They were all occupied and I wasn't. I was looking around the joint, at them, at the tellers, at the clock and at the line I was in. I happened to look down at the floor and there was that Yankee looking back at me. U. S. Grant. He stared at me from the floor and I swear winked. I quickly checked to my left and my right and everyone was still frantically choosing their bets. So I bent over and snagged the $50. Sonofabitch! My Tri paid off and I hadn't even make the bet. I looked around me again while holding the fifty with both hands in front of me. This time there was an old dude in the line to my left looking right at me. I said, "Whatcha gonna do?" as I thought he saw me pick up the bill. I don't know if he saw me pick it up or not but he saw me standing there holding a fifty dollar bill like a moron and he said the best and only thing that he could. He said, "Race."

Now then, in case you are wondering, it was a horse track. I don't go to dog tracks because those motherfuckers treat dogs like shit. Torture and murder and shit and I don't cotton to treatment of dogs like that. So I boycott dog tracks. BUT! if dogs are running at a horse track, I'm game. And so when the Police K9 competition and exhibition was held at Golden Gate Fields a few weeks back my grrrrl and I were there. It was awesome. We sat in the grandstands, drank beer and watched the police dogs do obstacle courses, swim and best of all, put the BIG BITE down on these geeks in fatty suits. There was a wide range of experience-levels in the dogs and the younger, inexperienced dogs would jog up to the geeks and bite 'em okay but the older, experienced dogs would HAUL ASS up to and HIT the geeks at FULL SPEED and HANG ON. It was totally awesome. These doggys were cops and they knew it. After the exhibition they were lined up at the Happy Donut truck. I swear to god.


Tonight - Doc's Clock.

Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!

Oh yeh ... in case you are wondering ... my Trifecta results from that day: Triple-Dead-Heat. They tied for last.

bye-ee!

whrr ... clik!