I'm also a client

2.4.2013

I vaguely remember the gasoline crisis of the late 1970s.  I do remember the threat of bad people siphoning gas from people's tanks.
"What in Hell is siphoning?" I remember asking my mother.  She told me that a bunch of assholes around town would unscrew a gas cap, stick a rubber tube down into the tank, suck on the tube until gas came out.  She said it was actually a rather neat way of getting gravity to act as a pump for you, but in this case it was stealing.  Some fuckers were stealing gasoline.

So I have a postage stamp-sized back yard.  And a while back, when I refused to waste water on it - we're in a rather nasty drought here in LA - the bermuda grass all but died.  But it went away in patches.  Dead and dying grass - dirt - dead grass - dirt.  It was a mess.

So when it became so bad that it was almost all dead and dirt, I took a page outta the 1970s and got me a siphon tube.  Here's why:  I figured that, drought or no drought, Ez had to bathe.  He got dirty and stinky every day and we had to get him clean.  His preferred method, like many a wee robot, was in the bathtub.  I had a tub of water left over after his bath and since his soap/shampoo was super SUPER fucking mild, I decided to get a second use out of the bath water.  I started siphoning it out and draining it into the back yard.

After a while, the god damned yard came back to life.  "No duh," said my little wife.  "If you water grass it grows."  Point.  I started feeling pretty good about it but noticed that, as it went away in patches, it came back in patches.  I had to do something.

And I did.  I invented "The Hair Club for Lawns."  Since this is creeping bermuda grass it doesn't come from seeds.  I couldn't seed the yard and expect results.  I could only resod or ... PLUG.  I had plenty of good creeps that I could dig up and relocate to bald spots.  After a while they took hold and plugged the holes.  The Hair Club for Lawns gave results!

There's a rain storm expected tonight.  It won't end the drought, but it will help.  And as Ez himself noted, "This rain is great for the Hair Club for Lawns."

Tonight - The Homestead.
 
"A neighborhood bar with paintings of breasts on the walls.”
Um... it's a whole lot more than that, pal.

bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

"Roto"

2.3.2014

That's short for "rotoscope"

 

That's what I'm doing (actually it's more "paint & roto," and that's why I can't take the time to post an actual thought-out venue announcement.


Tonight - Bloodhound (by request)


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

Olympic Dreams

2.2.2014

People my age don't usually have Olympic Dreams.  Maybe there's a ancient curler or an aged bobsledder or some old coot or another that dreams of glory.  Maybe some codger dreaming of carrying the torch for a stretch counts but maybe not.

I have Olympic Dreams.

I dream of an Olympics that isn't ruined by the network airing it.  I dream of an Olympics that isn't ruined by the mind-numbingly stupid television commercials that carve up event coverage like I carve up a Frito Pie.  I dream of robust online Olympic coverage that doesn't FORCE one to sit and watch the same mind-numbing TV spots.  I dream of Olympic coverage that isn't hour after hour of fluff piece.

I just want to watch sliders and skaters and skiers and hockey games.  I don't give a shit what Shaun White has to say.  I want to see him fly like a tomato.  I don't care where Julia Mancuso's weight room is (it's on a beach), I wanna see her fly down a mountain.

A man's gotta have a dream.

Tonight - Doc's Clock.

Doc's Clock invites you to "get drunk earlier."  Take them up on that offer.


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

Crow

2.1.2013

My pal from the ice rink's birthday is today.  We connected because -aside from seeing each other every Thursday - we both like the Chicago Blackhawks.

Since the 'Hawks played the hometown goon squad "Kings" just this past Monday, I thought I'd see if any moderately-priced tickets were available.  When I found out they were, I asked my pal's wife if she'd buy him one and I could surprise him with it in a rather sneaky way.  She said, "Hell yes."  I decided to surprise Ez, too.

So I got the tickets for him, Ez and me.  And then my game was afoot!  I lamented aloud to my pal that I looked for tickets and they were REALLY expensive.  "Hey," I said, "what about you coming over to watch the game on my HDTV?" (He still has a fucking SDTV.)  "I'll grill you some burgers and not get you a cake for your birthday.  What do ya say?"  He said okay.  "Well come up with something you want to go with yr burger or you're going to get eggy-pickley tater salad to go with it.  He said that sounded okay.  So I had him hooked.

As the day of the game approached, I kept stirring the pot.  I told him that Ez and I were gonna geek out and wear our Blackhawks jerseys to watch the game, so he had to wear his new jersey.

Lastly, I devised a plan to get him in the car and start heading toward the stadium.  "Ah shit," I said, "I forgot the buns and I'm almost out of beer!  We gotta go to the store!"  I hid the tickets in the passenger seat's sun visor.  When we were driving, I said, "See if my coupons are up there."  He did and the tickets fell right into his lap.  The jig was up!

The game was great, our team won and Ez high-fived everyone wearing Blackhawks gear he could.  Often he'd just whack someone's hand.  I told him he had to say, "good game," or "high-five!" to make his intention clear.  He high-fived guys, girls, old women, drunk people, kids and even Staples Center workers.  Everyone likes a little Blackhawks fan.

Tonight (the cozy confines of) - The Page


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!