Johnson Redux

7.3.2kXI

Ya like skippin' rocks across water?  Me?  I love it.  I enjoy the ritual of carefully choosing the right rock:  Smooth and flat, but with enough weight to put some elbow into.  Sometimes, for kicks, I grab a completely unworthy rock and huck it.  Them round, boxy rocks will indeed skip a couple times, given the proper angle and enough speed.
 
I often find myself feeling a bit sorry for those rocks I hurl into the deep.  I ask myself, "How long did it take that poor iddle-little rock to get up here on the riverbank or beach or lakeside or whate'r ... only to get flung back into the depths from whence it came oh-so-long ago?"  When I find myself feeling for the rocks I feel nothing but disgust for myself.  What a dope!
 
So after 30+ years of skippin' rocks, I paid 'em all back by getting myself skipped across a semi-placid lake, not unlike a skippin' stone.  Went up campin', ya see, and one of the campers had a skiboat with a big 'ol motor and a rope with which to drag a big 'ol innertube behind it.  The innertube had canvas handles and was real slick - it was built for the purpose of being dragged behind a skiboat.  Well I got in and the boat captain took off and GODDAMN is it fun to be dragged really fuckin' fast behind a boat.  In, on, and out of the wake is cool, but my favorite is when the 'tube and its passenger is flung way out beyond the wake.  I tried to get my face close-close-close to the surface of the water, and when I did I immediately felt what it must feel like to be a rock some fuckhead just skipped across the water.  Then, as usual, I thought I was pretty goddamn dorky for feeling like a rock and suddenly I hit a big (big being a relative word) BIG lake ripple and I got thrown the fuck out of the 'tube and right into the lake.  Complete with a facefull of lake water. 

Tonight - Kickin' it North Beach: Spec's (aka 12 Adler Museum Cafe)

Happy (almost) Birthday, Jay Herda!
See you there!
bye-ee!

whrr ... clik!

The Angry Drunk Bureaucrat

(courtesy of)

7.2.2kXI

In honor of those cheese eating surrender-monkeys in Parisland, I'm presenting my itinerary for that lesser of democratic holidays in July, Bastille Day:

6:00 AM: Wake up.

6:30 AM: Breakfast; Black coffee, cigarettes, contemplation of the bleakness of existence. Argue that breakfast functions as a bourgeois substitute for real commitment in the world, even if it includes bacon.

7:30 AM: Surrender to Germans. Learn how appreciate Knackwurst, Wagner, and David Hasselhoff.

9:00 AM: Complain about the increase of trans-Atlantic hyperhegemony. Laugh at ridiculousness of American President. Pout. [Repeat as necessary.]
[•• this was from 2005, BTW]

9:30 AM: Raise subsidy on agriculture.

10:00 AM: Attack comparable international naval superpower (Greenpeace). Surrender.

11:00 AM: Decrease number of national vacation days from 49 to 48.

11:02 AM: Strike.

11:05 AM: Re-institute 49 vacation days.

Noon: Lunch; Black coffee, cigarettes. Eat cake.

12:30 PM: Execute King, Aristocracy, Criminals, Clergy, Royal Sympathizers, Arch-Revolutionaries, Revolutionaries, and anyone else who happens to wander by.

1:30 PM: Institute Empire with help of Corsican half-brother; invade Russia.

1:45 PM: Check weather to see why it's so cold in Russia in July.

2 PM: Surrender to Russia, Prussians, Austrians, English, Italians.

2:15 PM: Realize there is no Prussia anymore; Surrender anyway.

2:16 PM: Realize that no one has surrendered to the Italians since 312 AD; hang head in shame.

3:00 PM: Eat Beef Wellington; vomit.

4:00 PM: Plant more trees along the Champs-Élysées. Check with Berlin to ensure proper shadiness ratio.

5:00 PM: Throw up barricades, escape from literary personification of irrational vengeance, get shot, collapse, die, sing. Repeat at Tony Awards.

6:00 PM: Bathe (Optional)

7:00 PM: Dinner: Wine, cigarettes, cheese, wine.

8:00 PM: Night of passion with Mistress, Wife, Au Pair, Revolutionaries, and anyone else who happens to wander by.

Midnight: Surrender to Self.

In honor of this fine day, we're going to the Frenchiest dive that we know:

Lucky 13

C'mon out and wish long-time TNSC member Jason Porter a VERY HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!

bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

You earned it

7.1.2kXI

If you have the occasion to get unemployment pay, go for it, as you've been paying into it the whole time you've been working. I had a go in the early part of the last decade, and despite a rather ridiculously paltry weekly sum, I had an easy go of it: I just filled out the stupid form and the stack of quarters came in the mail.

I'm on my second round of state aid and this time it's gone differently. I'm afforded a much different view of the whole process, and it's wacky. (I think it's my fault, though, as I ticked the "Not Looking For Work" box on Week one.)

First thing is I got a letter saying I was scheduled for a phone interview on Wednesday between 10a and noon. Problem was, that Wednesday I actually had a meeting scheduled at 11a! I emailed the bureau and told them as much and asked them to reschedule. Their robot sent back email and said, "too bad. You can't reschedule." And that was that.

Of course, on my way to the meeting, the phone rang. I pulled over and answered it and some guy from the bureau identified himself. I told him what I just told you and expressed my dismay about their inflexibility and the guy said, "You checked the "not looking for work" box. Don't do that again and we won't call you." Oooh ... so that's how it works!

So I checked the appropriate boxes from then on and got a letter saying I was scheduled for a live interview at 8am on Thursday! It also said the appointment could not be rescheduled! So, I got up early and took Ez to the bureau office. He played with markers as the bureau stooge gave me job leads for Flash designers, dental technicians and gardeners (no shit). I was courteous and interested. Hell, I need my fucking stack of quarters.


Tonight - Tunnel Top.


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

Grab some Buds™

6.4.2kXI

I'm partial to the Fourth of July over many other holidays, cuz it's hot. Usually. Unless yr in Frisco. Then yr nuts, they are freezing.

Well I now like the 4th for another reason: It's the day before my kid's bday. Yes, the Pezman is fixin' to turn three on 7/5. He was born in Southern California, so I bought him some slip-on Vans® w/ dinosaurs on them, a wooden BBQ play set, and an LA-based National League MLB team that I got at auction. He loves baseball.

Tonight - Homestead.


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!