So my current work schedule has me awake with nothing to do during the time when VH1 and MTV actually show music videos (i.e. when no one else on the planet is actually watching TV). This has afforded me the opportunity to catch up on what's happening in popular music. I can tell you one thing that it didn't take me long at all to learn. I can't stand most of what is on MTV. Yes, a whole lot of what VH1 plays sucks, but MTV makes me murderous. Basically, I think I hate black music. Call me a racist if you must, but I find it unlistenable.
The thing about VH1 is the vast disparity between the videos they show. I'm the type who always just assumed that if it was popular it was crap, and for the most part, I still think that holds true. However there are, miraculously, a few bands that don't suck getting air time. Have there always been artists like The Civil Wars, Adele, Mutemath, and Mumford & Sons on VH1 or is this a new developement? And yet somehow VH1 still manages to show videos by Justin Bieber and Beyonce.
The other day I saw the video for Seal's "Kiss from a Rose" for the first time, even though it's something like ten years old, and I can honestly say it's the worst music video I have ever seen. The song was already ridiculous, but the video is the most obscene piece of crap ever pooped out of the music industries bloated rear-end.
As far as more recent music goes, Hot Chelle Rae's song "Tonight, Tonight" is stupid. Just stupid. It sounds catchy at first, but half a listen is enough to make me wonder how the instrumentalists don't kill themselves out of sheer boredom.
I want to say nice things about Demi Lovato because she is an outspoken fan of good music (e.g. Maylene & the Sons of Disaster), but "Skyscraper" is not good. It's laughable.
VH1 is showing a video oby Dawes as I write this. There's nothing wrong with Dawes except that there is nothing right with them. "Time Spent in Las Angeles" has a chorus that sounds like it was ripped straight from The Eagles, and it bores me to death.
Lest you think I have only negative things to say, Mutemath's "Blood Pressure" is a fun video and one of the reasons I have hope for the future of the music industry.
As a side note before I stop wasting your time (why should I worry if your life is sad enough to actually be reading this anyway), why does VH1 find it necessary to edit out "gun" and "bullets" from Foster the People's "Pumped Up Kicks"? This is why this country is going to hell.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Ben Dover
I'm writing in an awkward position, and it's making my back sore. I'm not smart enough to come up with a new posture, so this might be a short post.
I'm hungry. My phone is eligible for an upgrade today. I think I'll go with the Bionic, but I'm not set on it. I'll probably screw around with several in the store.
I'm really just writing this to burn time while I wait for Anna to get off work.
I just read that DeLorean is back and attempting to make an all electric car. This is exactly what electric car technology needs to get off the ground, gull-wing doors.
People who say "pun not intended" are lying. If you really don't intend the pun then change your wording.
As I'm writing this, Anna's mother is watching a show called "Bad Dog." The premise is simple. People send in home videos of their misbehaving pets. My reaction to this show is the same as my reaction to the nanny-to-the-rescue shows. There is one common denominator in all these families with problem children and problem pets. They don't beat them. Seriously. Come out swinging, and your problem is solved.
Someone feed me.
I knew what I was going to write next, but I lost it, and it's driving me bonkers.
We found out a couple months ago that a friend of ours is pregnant (no, you don't know her). This is a bad thing and not for the reason you think. She is indeed married. But she is the least motherly person I have ever met. And she's a democrat. This baby is doomed from the start.
Pugs make me want to vomit.
I have a new laptop. I like it a lot. There is only one thing that bothers me. I keep accidentally tapping the scroll-pad while I type causing the cursor to jump all over the page to wherever the pointer was at the time. The scroll-pad does have a handy off-switch, but when I'm writing while surfing the internet (like now), I don't like having to turn it on and off all time to view other pages.
Not that long ago, I read about a study on the correlation between IQ and people's web browsers of choice. The researchers found that those who use Internet Explorer tend to have below average intelligence, and those who use Firefox or Chrome have above average intelligence (people who use Safari aren't actually people at all but mindless drones). When I read this, I smirked because at the time I used Chrome. But since I've gotten my new computer, I've been using IE9. I like it. It's almost exactly like using Chrome except it doesn't automatically spell check everything I type. Now for the caveat on that IQ study. People who used the newer versions of IE were actually as intelligent as those who used Firefox and Chrome. People who used older versions of IE (like IE5 or 6) were idiots. I was just astounded that there were enough people still using versions of IE that old to skew the research that much.
Anna just got home. I'm going to go put clothes on so I can go get a phone.
Now rocking:
Band-- Oh, Sleeper
Album-- "Children of Fire"
Genre-- metalcore
I'm hungry. My phone is eligible for an upgrade today. I think I'll go with the Bionic, but I'm not set on it. I'll probably screw around with several in the store.
I'm really just writing this to burn time while I wait for Anna to get off work.
I just read that DeLorean is back and attempting to make an all electric car. This is exactly what electric car technology needs to get off the ground, gull-wing doors.
People who say "pun not intended" are lying. If you really don't intend the pun then change your wording.
As I'm writing this, Anna's mother is watching a show called "Bad Dog." The premise is simple. People send in home videos of their misbehaving pets. My reaction to this show is the same as my reaction to the nanny-to-the-rescue shows. There is one common denominator in all these families with problem children and problem pets. They don't beat them. Seriously. Come out swinging, and your problem is solved.
Someone feed me.
I knew what I was going to write next, but I lost it, and it's driving me bonkers.
We found out a couple months ago that a friend of ours is pregnant (no, you don't know her). This is a bad thing and not for the reason you think. She is indeed married. But she is the least motherly person I have ever met. And she's a democrat. This baby is doomed from the start.
Pugs make me want to vomit.
I have a new laptop. I like it a lot. There is only one thing that bothers me. I keep accidentally tapping the scroll-pad while I type causing the cursor to jump all over the page to wherever the pointer was at the time. The scroll-pad does have a handy off-switch, but when I'm writing while surfing the internet (like now), I don't like having to turn it on and off all time to view other pages.
Not that long ago, I read about a study on the correlation between IQ and people's web browsers of choice. The researchers found that those who use Internet Explorer tend to have below average intelligence, and those who use Firefox or Chrome have above average intelligence (people who use Safari aren't actually people at all but mindless drones). When I read this, I smirked because at the time I used Chrome. But since I've gotten my new computer, I've been using IE9. I like it. It's almost exactly like using Chrome except it doesn't automatically spell check everything I type. Now for the caveat on that IQ study. People who used the newer versions of IE were actually as intelligent as those who used Firefox and Chrome. People who used older versions of IE (like IE5 or 6) were idiots. I was just astounded that there were enough people still using versions of IE that old to skew the research that much.
Anna just got home. I'm going to go put clothes on so I can go get a phone.
Now rocking:
Band-- Oh, Sleeper
Album-- "Children of Fire"
Genre-- metalcore
Saturday, October 15, 2011
The Tim Tebow Era
Howie puked all over the bedroom. I need to remember to clean it up when I get home.
I'm really enjoying the new Oh, Sleeper album "Children of Fire." People keep comparing them to Underoath and Norma Jean, but that's not fair. Those are decent bands, but Oh, Sleeper is much more intricate. And as much as I enjoyed Norma Jean's last album, their songs don't compel me to scream along at the top of my lungs, but with lyrics like "Calling the bold to stand and make the coward bleed" and "I'll marry a blade to his throat," how can you not share them with the world?
In that same vein, I think I'm disappointed in the new Maylene & the Sons of Disaster album "IV." Yes, bands are allowed to modify their sound. They are allowed to evolve. But this album has lost that spark that their first three releases had.
I need to trim my fingernails.
I did trim my beard today. I was starting to look like a hobo.
Project 86 is promising a new album next spring. That's not soon enough. I need it now.
Coach Fox has officially named Tebow the starter against Miami. It's the right move. I don't know if Tebow will be good. I want him to be. It's alright if he's not. But as long as the Broncos' played Orton, they were going to stagnate. It wouldn't have mattered if they won more games with Orton. They were never going to make the playoffs this year, and Orton will not be a Bronco next year (and Brady Quinn probably won't be either). They need to find out now if they need to draft a quarterback next year or not. Yes, for those of you who read The Denver Post or watch ESPN's "Around the Horn," I realize this is essentially Woody Paige's position. Well, he's right for once.
Poopface got a haircut last week. This time she doesn't have a prissy cut around her face. It's all just really short.
We had to take Hank to the vet the other day because he wouldn't open his right eye and it kept watering and emitting green goo. It turns out he had a rather sizable sticker under his inner-eyelid. When the vet showed it to me, I was astounded that Hank hadn't committed suicide out of sheer misery.
Switchfoot's new album "Vice Verses" sounds better with each listen. There are a couple songs that don't appeal to me, but on the whole, it's a good time.
I'm at Anna's place of employment, at the moment, making use of the Wi-Fi. She looks really cute, running around and being helpful.
My left eyebrow itches.
My right pinky toe itches.
My right cheekbone itches.
My stomach itches.
Whenever I think about one spot itching, the rest of me starts to itch. I need to stop talking about this because now I'm going crazy out of itchiness.
I'm used to having random inappropriate things appear when using vague search-engine references, and I can pretty well ignore them. But it's startling when it happens while I'm on my computer in a public place.
Now listening to:
Band-- As Cities Burn
Album-- "Son, I Loved You at Your Darkest"
Genre-- post-hardcore
I'm really enjoying the new Oh, Sleeper album "Children of Fire." People keep comparing them to Underoath and Norma Jean, but that's not fair. Those are decent bands, but Oh, Sleeper is much more intricate. And as much as I enjoyed Norma Jean's last album, their songs don't compel me to scream along at the top of my lungs, but with lyrics like "Calling the bold to stand and make the coward bleed" and "I'll marry a blade to his throat," how can you not share them with the world?
In that same vein, I think I'm disappointed in the new Maylene & the Sons of Disaster album "IV." Yes, bands are allowed to modify their sound. They are allowed to evolve. But this album has lost that spark that their first three releases had.
I need to trim my fingernails.
I did trim my beard today. I was starting to look like a hobo.
Project 86 is promising a new album next spring. That's not soon enough. I need it now.
Coach Fox has officially named Tebow the starter against Miami. It's the right move. I don't know if Tebow will be good. I want him to be. It's alright if he's not. But as long as the Broncos' played Orton, they were going to stagnate. It wouldn't have mattered if they won more games with Orton. They were never going to make the playoffs this year, and Orton will not be a Bronco next year (and Brady Quinn probably won't be either). They need to find out now if they need to draft a quarterback next year or not. Yes, for those of you who read The Denver Post or watch ESPN's "Around the Horn," I realize this is essentially Woody Paige's position. Well, he's right for once.
Poopface got a haircut last week. This time she doesn't have a prissy cut around her face. It's all just really short.
We had to take Hank to the vet the other day because he wouldn't open his right eye and it kept watering and emitting green goo. It turns out he had a rather sizable sticker under his inner-eyelid. When the vet showed it to me, I was astounded that Hank hadn't committed suicide out of sheer misery.
Switchfoot's new album "Vice Verses" sounds better with each listen. There are a couple songs that don't appeal to me, but on the whole, it's a good time.
I'm at Anna's place of employment, at the moment, making use of the Wi-Fi. She looks really cute, running around and being helpful.
My left eyebrow itches.
My right pinky toe itches.
My right cheekbone itches.
My stomach itches.
Whenever I think about one spot itching, the rest of me starts to itch. I need to stop talking about this because now I'm going crazy out of itchiness.
I'm used to having random inappropriate things appear when using vague search-engine references, and I can pretty well ignore them. But it's startling when it happens while I'm on my computer in a public place.
Now listening to:
Band-- As Cities Burn
Album-- "Son, I Loved You at Your Darkest"
Genre-- post-hardcore
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Was One of 'em a Church of God?
Donna is moving out. Her daughter came in with a notice of intent to vacate at the beginning of the month. I guess the doctors don't want Donna living on her own anymore. She has too much trouble breathing.
There was a note under my door from Sara today. Her A/C wasn't working. The repairman came out and fixed it this afternoon.
I've had a headache for most of the afternoon.
Anna says that everyone in Indianapolis is angry and mean. She wants her training to be over with so she doesn't have to deal with them anymore.
Apparently, there was a knifing right in front of the store in Indianapolis just the week before Anna started training.
I have a "shiatsu" massage pad on my chair. It's great for use on my lower back when it's sore but having it on this chair means I always feel like I'm leaning a little forward in this chair. For some reason, I feel like I'm being forced forward extra far today.
The Rockies are playing well, but I still have some concerns. I still don't trust Huston Street as a closer, I don't believe Ubaldo is as good as everyone else thinks, and Ian Stewart hasn't hit at all this year. I'm also slightly concerned that CarGo has yet to homer.
I'm also very depressed to find out that tonights game has been postponed. Apparently the whole northeast is getting soaked because at least three games have been postponed already.
The leaves on the trees are starting to open. It really is amazing how it seems to happen all at once.
Our rose bush looks beautiful even without actual roses yet.
This desk has a special keyboard tray that slides in and out, but it's deceptive. You might think you have it pulled all the way out, but you don't. And when you finally realize that you can pull it out farther, you also realize how much easier it is to hit the keys at the top of the keyboard when you aren't banging your fingers into the desk.
Is there anything more relaxing than sharpening a knife?
I have to go to an "Owner/Agent Update" this coming Monday and Tuesday. Basically, I get to go up to Indianapolis and be bored out of my mind for two days while people tell me about all the changes in the paperwork the government makes us do for affordable housing.
I've mentioned before how Bobbie has started attending the Bible study on Monday afternoons. Typically she arrives halfway through, and they are forced to spend several minutes explaining to her what the topic is. They are currently going through Revelation, and when she showed up on Monday, they had been discussing the seven churches mentioned at the beginning of Revelation. So the Lieutenant is then forced to reiterate what he has been saying about the seven churches. So what does Bobbie say? "Was one of 'em a Church of God Church? 'Cause that's what I am."
I shaved my beard. I contemplated leaving a mustache, but it creeped me out too much.
Gray.
#105 Mike
Buying and selling
Santa's pockets full of knives
"Chew" and stroke slurred speech
Band: Becoming the Archetype
Album: Celestial Completion
Genre: Progressive/Technical Death Metal
There was a note under my door from Sara today. Her A/C wasn't working. The repairman came out and fixed it this afternoon.
I've had a headache for most of the afternoon.
Anna says that everyone in Indianapolis is angry and mean. She wants her training to be over with so she doesn't have to deal with them anymore.
Apparently, there was a knifing right in front of the store in Indianapolis just the week before Anna started training.
I have a "shiatsu" massage pad on my chair. It's great for use on my lower back when it's sore but having it on this chair means I always feel like I'm leaning a little forward in this chair. For some reason, I feel like I'm being forced forward extra far today.
The Rockies are playing well, but I still have some concerns. I still don't trust Huston Street as a closer, I don't believe Ubaldo is as good as everyone else thinks, and Ian Stewart hasn't hit at all this year. I'm also slightly concerned that CarGo has yet to homer.
I'm also very depressed to find out that tonights game has been postponed. Apparently the whole northeast is getting soaked because at least three games have been postponed already.
The leaves on the trees are starting to open. It really is amazing how it seems to happen all at once.
Our rose bush looks beautiful even without actual roses yet.
This desk has a special keyboard tray that slides in and out, but it's deceptive. You might think you have it pulled all the way out, but you don't. And when you finally realize that you can pull it out farther, you also realize how much easier it is to hit the keys at the top of the keyboard when you aren't banging your fingers into the desk.
Is there anything more relaxing than sharpening a knife?
I have to go to an "Owner/Agent Update" this coming Monday and Tuesday. Basically, I get to go up to Indianapolis and be bored out of my mind for two days while people tell me about all the changes in the paperwork the government makes us do for affordable housing.
I've mentioned before how Bobbie has started attending the Bible study on Monday afternoons. Typically she arrives halfway through, and they are forced to spend several minutes explaining to her what the topic is. They are currently going through Revelation, and when she showed up on Monday, they had been discussing the seven churches mentioned at the beginning of Revelation. So the Lieutenant is then forced to reiterate what he has been saying about the seven churches. So what does Bobbie say? "Was one of 'em a Church of God Church? 'Cause that's what I am."
I shaved my beard. I contemplated leaving a mustache, but it creeped me out too much.
Gray.
#105 Mike
Buying and selling
Santa's pockets full of knives
"Chew" and stroke slurred speech
Band: Becoming the Archetype
Album: Celestial Completion
Genre: Progressive/Technical Death Metal
Monday, March 28, 2011
Ever'body
I'm out of AriZona Pomegranate Green Tea.
Mildred fell and broke her hip last week. Bobbie told me she has been talking to Mildred on the phone every morning. And she left this note on the door to the Community Room.
I like how she says "ever one" and "ever body."
Opening Day is officially Thursday though most teams (including the Rockies) don't play until Friday. This season has me worried. Why am I worried? I'm worried because I think the Rockies will be really good this year, and if they aren't, I'll be devastated. It's so much easier when you expect them to suck. The computers that run the simulated games predict the Rockies to win 86 games. Rockies sportswriters think they'll win 90. I think they should win 100. Will they? There are a lot of "ifs" in that: if Tulo stays healthy; if CarGo matches last season; if Ianetta, Stewart, and Smith start hitting; if Helton's back doesn't give out; if Ubaldo pitches like an ace; if we get production from the 5th spot in the rotation. Heck, if all those "ifs" turn out well, there's no reason the Rockies couldn't win 110 games. The problem is something will go wrong at some point. Honestly, I'm the most worried about Ubaldo and CarGo. I pray that last season wasn't a fluke for them. If it wasn't then I say we win the division.
Blue.
I finally did our taxes the other day.
A couple weeks ago, we were looking through the videos the church has to find something to show the kids. We found a CD sing-a-long that included a bonus DVD. The DVD was called "The Boy Who Faced His Giant" by The Paper Bag Theatre. It was AMAZING. It looks like a video put together by a bunch of high schoolers for a class project using paper bag puppets, but it's actually funny. They make references to "Jaws" and "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" and have angels committing arson. The kids loved it so much they made me show it again this past Sunday, and I think they have watched it at least twice otherwise when Anna and I weren't there.
I'm thirsty.
My back hurts. It's a mess.
Kayleigh is the proper spelling of my slaves name.
Poopface is staring at me. I think she wants to go outside, but she keeps refusing to do anything when I actually take her out. She also smells like butt.
I can tell it's springtime because there are great clumps of Poopface fur everywhere.
I made Anna some sweet tea. She doesn't know that yet because it's in the refrigerator cooling down.
Anna's cute. I think I'll keep her.
Anna's favorite band, The Civil Wars, will be in Louisville and Cincinnati this week. Tomorrow, Anna will find out her schedule for the week, and we can figure out if we can go to at least one of the shows.
#104 Marilyn
Huffing and wheezing
Where is that elusive breath?
C.O.P.D. bites.
Artist: Stavesacre
Album: Speakeasy
Genre: post-hardcore/hard rock
Mildred fell and broke her hip last week. Bobbie told me she has been talking to Mildred on the phone every morning. And she left this note on the door to the Community Room.
I like how she says "ever one" and "ever body."
Opening Day is officially Thursday though most teams (including the Rockies) don't play until Friday. This season has me worried. Why am I worried? I'm worried because I think the Rockies will be really good this year, and if they aren't, I'll be devastated. It's so much easier when you expect them to suck. The computers that run the simulated games predict the Rockies to win 86 games. Rockies sportswriters think they'll win 90. I think they should win 100. Will they? There are a lot of "ifs" in that: if Tulo stays healthy; if CarGo matches last season; if Ianetta, Stewart, and Smith start hitting; if Helton's back doesn't give out; if Ubaldo pitches like an ace; if we get production from the 5th spot in the rotation. Heck, if all those "ifs" turn out well, there's no reason the Rockies couldn't win 110 games. The problem is something will go wrong at some point. Honestly, I'm the most worried about Ubaldo and CarGo. I pray that last season wasn't a fluke for them. If it wasn't then I say we win the division.
Blue.
I finally did our taxes the other day.
A couple weeks ago, we were looking through the videos the church has to find something to show the kids. We found a CD sing-a-long that included a bonus DVD. The DVD was called "The Boy Who Faced His Giant" by The Paper Bag Theatre. It was AMAZING. It looks like a video put together by a bunch of high schoolers for a class project using paper bag puppets, but it's actually funny. They make references to "Jaws" and "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" and have angels committing arson. The kids loved it so much they made me show it again this past Sunday, and I think they have watched it at least twice otherwise when Anna and I weren't there.
I'm thirsty.
My back hurts. It's a mess.
Kayleigh is the proper spelling of my slaves name.
Poopface is staring at me. I think she wants to go outside, but she keeps refusing to do anything when I actually take her out. She also smells like butt.
I can tell it's springtime because there are great clumps of Poopface fur everywhere.
I made Anna some sweet tea. She doesn't know that yet because it's in the refrigerator cooling down.
Anna's cute. I think I'll keep her.
Anna's favorite band, The Civil Wars, will be in Louisville and Cincinnati this week. Tomorrow, Anna will find out her schedule for the week, and we can figure out if we can go to at least one of the shows.
#104 Marilyn
Huffing and wheezing
Where is that elusive breath?
C.O.P.D. bites.
Artist: Stavesacre
Album: Speakeasy
Genre: post-hardcore/hard rock
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Anal Glands
Anna has to work most of the day today. I'm lonely.
Anna's being promoted to a manager. I think she should fire everyone.
Monday night, Anna and I were headed somewhere when John poked his head out his door to tell me his kitchen light had quit working. I verified that it truly wasn't working and told him I'd be back during my office hours on Tuesday. On Tuesday, I replaced the ballast in his kitchen light, then I checked it to make sure everything was working.
Tuesday night was the monthly "pitch-in" dinner with the Lieutenants from the Salvation Army. I figured I should make an appearance to keep everyone happy. While at the dinner, John's ex-girlfriend (the one he had wanted to have move in with him last year) showed up to tell me that John's light was out again. I checked it, and sure enough, it was dead. Wednesday during office hours, I came back and replaced the ballast again. It worked again, and as far as I know, it's still working this time.
I was watching TV earlier when there was a knock (or more precisely, a series of rapid yet soft tapping)on the door and a voice hollering "Geoffrey, are you in there?" It was Bobbie. I stepped out into the hallway and discovered that Mildred and one of George's floozies were also present. Bobbie told me she wanted me to settle something, but most of the conversation that ensued was between her and the floozy. This is what I gathered. The floozy had been by yesterday and had left a pair of shoes at George's apartment. When she came by today to get them, George slammed the door on her and refused to let her in. Apparently, this is when Bobbie and Mildred got involved. I have no idea how long they waited before coming to me, but Bobbie seemed to think I should be able to do something about George not wanting the floozy inside. Once I understood the issue, I explained to Bobbie and the floozy that George had every right to keep his door closed, and I couldn't do anything about it. At this point, Bobbie went off. "I wouldn't open my door for that man if he were lying on the floor dead." "George and Katie are disgusting." "They can both drop dead for all I care." "Susie says George and Katie have no business living here." "A negro woman was knocking on Katie's door earlier, but she wouldn't open up neither." "George is mean. He threatened to hit me with his cane." The floozy kept saying that George must have another "girl" over there, and that's why he wouldn't open up. I just repeated that George didn't have to open up if he didn't want to. Bobbie offered to call the police. I tried to explain that there was no reason to call the police. The floozy left. Mildred and Bobbie went back to sitting together in the Community Room and complaining about George and Katie.
Poopface must be having major issues with her butt glands. For the last couple weeks, she's been extra stinky but not all the time. She must keep popping them and having them fill up again.
Last Saturday, we went with the church to the Creation Museum. Let's just say that Anna and I were extremely disappointed with the lack of scientific evidence actually displayed by the museum and the way everyone else seemed to eat it all up like it was the greatest thing ever.
The Lieutenants have a Bible study in the Community Room every Monday. Bobbie decided to join them this week. This surprised me because she's been very vocal in the past about not having anything to do with the Salvation Army. I can't always understand what they are saying while I sit in my office, but most of the time I can tell you what is going on. In summary of Monday's Bible study, Bobbie spent most of the time interrupting with random thoughts like "That's not what my Bible says" and "I can't pay attention to this." The times she wasn't just inserting random thoughts were the times she spent arguing over things, and this happened before the Lieutenant had even finished reading the passage. Before he had even voiced an opinion, she was arguing with him about it. So Tuesday, Bobbie comes by the office and gives me this little gem: "Are they building another apartment over there. Somebody said they was taken applications. Is it another Salvation Army? Who owns this place? Salvation Army doesn't own this place, does they? I was the only one answering questions yesterday. Everyone else was just bumps on a log. And those two was arguing, and they shouldn't be arguing like that. There's no place for that, dontcha think?"
Poopface likes it if you knock on the top of her head likes it's a door.
I want pizza.
Dark Blue.
My bladder is starting to fill.
When I finish this, I'm going to clean out the litter box.
I took Poopface out to do her business the other night, and she went tearing after a skunk. Fortunately, I had a good grip on her leash.
Haiku
#103 John
A little old man
Jolly and illiterate
"Hey, bud!" He calls me.
Band: Zao
Album: The Parade of Chaos
Genre: Metalcore (before metalcore was a bunch of As I Lay Dying copycat bands)
Anna's being promoted to a manager. I think she should fire everyone.
Monday night, Anna and I were headed somewhere when John poked his head out his door to tell me his kitchen light had quit working. I verified that it truly wasn't working and told him I'd be back during my office hours on Tuesday. On Tuesday, I replaced the ballast in his kitchen light, then I checked it to make sure everything was working.
Tuesday night was the monthly "pitch-in" dinner with the Lieutenants from the Salvation Army. I figured I should make an appearance to keep everyone happy. While at the dinner, John's ex-girlfriend (the one he had wanted to have move in with him last year) showed up to tell me that John's light was out again. I checked it, and sure enough, it was dead. Wednesday during office hours, I came back and replaced the ballast again. It worked again, and as far as I know, it's still working this time.
I was watching TV earlier when there was a knock (or more precisely, a series of rapid yet soft tapping)on the door and a voice hollering "Geoffrey, are you in there?" It was Bobbie. I stepped out into the hallway and discovered that Mildred and one of George's floozies were also present. Bobbie told me she wanted me to settle something, but most of the conversation that ensued was between her and the floozy. This is what I gathered. The floozy had been by yesterday and had left a pair of shoes at George's apartment. When she came by today to get them, George slammed the door on her and refused to let her in. Apparently, this is when Bobbie and Mildred got involved. I have no idea how long they waited before coming to me, but Bobbie seemed to think I should be able to do something about George not wanting the floozy inside. Once I understood the issue, I explained to Bobbie and the floozy that George had every right to keep his door closed, and I couldn't do anything about it. At this point, Bobbie went off. "I wouldn't open my door for that man if he were lying on the floor dead." "George and Katie are disgusting." "They can both drop dead for all I care." "Susie says George and Katie have no business living here." "A negro woman was knocking on Katie's door earlier, but she wouldn't open up neither." "George is mean. He threatened to hit me with his cane." The floozy kept saying that George must have another "girl" over there, and that's why he wouldn't open up. I just repeated that George didn't have to open up if he didn't want to. Bobbie offered to call the police. I tried to explain that there was no reason to call the police. The floozy left. Mildred and Bobbie went back to sitting together in the Community Room and complaining about George and Katie.
Poopface must be having major issues with her butt glands. For the last couple weeks, she's been extra stinky but not all the time. She must keep popping them and having them fill up again.
Last Saturday, we went with the church to the Creation Museum. Let's just say that Anna and I were extremely disappointed with the lack of scientific evidence actually displayed by the museum and the way everyone else seemed to eat it all up like it was the greatest thing ever.
The Lieutenants have a Bible study in the Community Room every Monday. Bobbie decided to join them this week. This surprised me because she's been very vocal in the past about not having anything to do with the Salvation Army. I can't always understand what they are saying while I sit in my office, but most of the time I can tell you what is going on. In summary of Monday's Bible study, Bobbie spent most of the time interrupting with random thoughts like "That's not what my Bible says" and "I can't pay attention to this." The times she wasn't just inserting random thoughts were the times she spent arguing over things, and this happened before the Lieutenant had even finished reading the passage. Before he had even voiced an opinion, she was arguing with him about it. So Tuesday, Bobbie comes by the office and gives me this little gem: "Are they building another apartment over there. Somebody said they was taken applications. Is it another Salvation Army? Who owns this place? Salvation Army doesn't own this place, does they? I was the only one answering questions yesterday. Everyone else was just bumps on a log. And those two was arguing, and they shouldn't be arguing like that. There's no place for that, dontcha think?"
Poopface likes it if you knock on the top of her head likes it's a door.
I want pizza.
Dark Blue.
My bladder is starting to fill.
When I finish this, I'm going to clean out the litter box.
I took Poopface out to do her business the other night, and she went tearing after a skunk. Fortunately, I had a good grip on her leash.
Haiku
#103 John
A little old man
Jolly and illiterate
"Hey, bud!" He calls me.
Band: Zao
Album: The Parade of Chaos
Genre: Metalcore (before metalcore was a bunch of As I Lay Dying copycat bands)
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Police, New Slaves, Pseudo-Grandchildren, and Concerts
A couple weeks ago, I was doing laundry. I had to move our clothes from the washers to the dryers. Someone else's clothes were sitting in the dryer already dry. It appeared that their owner had forgotten about them since they had been dry for at least an hour, so I took them out of the dryer and started switching our clothes from the washers. While I was doing this, George came out of his apartment, walked to the doorway of the laundry room, and stared at me the whole time I was loading the dryers. I wondered at first if it was his clothes that had been in the dryer, but it was mostly bras and women's underwear. George didn't say a word. He just stared at me. I finished switching the clothes, started the dryers, and walked back to my apartment. George watched me the whole way.
Maybe twenty minutes later, there was a knock on our door. It was George. He was agitated. I could tell he wanted me to come to his apartment, but I couldn't understand why. I followed him into his apartment to discover one of his floozies sitting at his table with a cigarette in hand and a bottle of liquor in front of her listening to a radio that looked to be at least as old as I am. I recognized her as the floozy that I most often see visiting George. I gathered as George continued to gesticulate and slobber all over the room that he wanted me to make her leave. When she realized what he wanted and why I was there, she threw a fit and started going off on how all George had to do was ask her to leave and that she was just waiting for her clothes to dry and how George was just upset because she wasn't letting him feel her up. I just told her that if he wanted her to leave, she would have to leave. She tried to tell me that she was waiting for her clothes to dry. I assured her that I knew for a fact that they were dry (I hope you paid attention to the first paragraph). I waited around until she quit cussing and insulting George and grabbed her clothes and left. I then went back to my apartment.
Fifteen minutes later there was another knock on the door. It was George. This time he was bleeding from a bump the size and color of a red grape on his right cheek bone. Of course I asked him if he was alright and what happened and so on and so forth, but all I got out of him was that he needed my help to find his glasses. I started following him back to his apartment and saw that there was a police officer there. The Lieutenant from the Salvation Army happened to be there at this time for a pot-luck with the residents. At this point, I didn't know anything more than that George was bleeding and that the police had been called. The Lieutenant was aware already of George's floozies and told me he had just seen one come in and leave almost immediately just a few minutes before. I asked her what this one looked like, and he described a younger goth looking girl. That didn't sound familiar to me, and it certainly didn't sound like the floozy George had just wanted me to kick out. The Lt. went back to the dinner, and I spent the next twenty minutes trying to interpret George's babble to the police. What we did manage to gather was that a floozy had come, taken thirty dollars from George's wallet, and punched him in the face (knocking off his glasses) before leaving. George insisted he did not know her name. He did keep trying to tell the officers that he knew where her uncle lived. In the end, they had him ride along with them so he could point out the house. After that, I don't know what happened. I do know that a detective showed up the next day to talk to George, but that's the last I heard of it.
Patsy came to my office the other day to tell me that the glass on her oven door had broken. She said she had been using the self-cleaning cycle and when it was finished and she opened the door, the glass cracked. This might be true, or she might have just dropped a pan on the glass and didn't want to tell me. Either way, I just switched the door on her oven with the door on Alice's oven because Alice's oven is broken and is being replaced this coming week.
I have a new slave. Her name is Kayley (I'm just guessing at how to spell that). She's a sophomore in high school (meaning she is my oldest slave so far). She likes to skip school, and that is how she ended up in Restart. In fact, the Restart guy had promised me she'd be her two weeks before she ever actually showed up. She spent those two weeks switching between skipping Restart entirely and trying to trick them into thinking she was coming here.
For the moment, the pressure is off of Anna and me to reproduce. Anna's mother has her grandchild. Her name is Benita. She is four. No, Sarah did not magically birth a four year old. But Sarah is now the acting mother to a four year old. The summation of the long, complicated, and troubling story is that Benita is the niece of Jeff (Sarah's boyfriend). Benita's mother is quite literally crazy. Benita has been raised in homeless shelters in Chicago her whole life. Jeff is attempting to rescue Benita. Benita now lives with Jeff and Sarah, and Anna's mother is completely smitten with the girl. In fact, Benita is spending the night with the in-laws as I write this. She spent last weekend with Anna's parents too. Anna's mother has had a ball buying toys and clothes for her. You really have no idea how excited she is to have Benita around. Benita even calls her Grandma. She calls Hank (the dog) LadyBuns, and she knows me as Sally (we figured two uncle Geoff/Jeffs would be confusing).
Anna's father thought he might have to work last Sunday, so he asked me to fill in in the pulpit. I told the congregation that God gave the Law so that people would sin more.
Anna's birthday was also last Sunday. I let her leave the kitchen for a little bit to celebrate. She thought it was the best gift ever.
Project 86 was in the area twice last week. They were in Franklin last Wednesday and Cincinnati that Friday. The complete line-up was Disciple, Project 86, and Write This Down. I convinced Anna to come with me to the show in Franklin. She actually seemed to kind of enjoy herself, though she left with the impression that Project 86's lead singer is a jerk. Anna went bowling with some friends from work on Friday night, while I was at the Cincinnati show. I told her afterwards that she should have come to the Cincinnati show instead. The sound was much better. The crowd was more enthusiastic, and I think Andrew from Project was having a much better day. But in any case, Anna is now a veteran of a true rock show. She's hardcore. She actually took some really cool pictures during the show. I'll try to get them from her and post them on Facebook soon.
Haikus
Sara (the friend, not the resident, as per request)
Spastic Dutch girls rock
Accountants and oranges
Gangster's paradise
#102 Donna
Homemade cigarettes
Oxygen machine on high
My daughter wears sweats
Band: The Famine
Album: The Architects of Guilt
Genre: Death Metal
Maybe twenty minutes later, there was a knock on our door. It was George. He was agitated. I could tell he wanted me to come to his apartment, but I couldn't understand why. I followed him into his apartment to discover one of his floozies sitting at his table with a cigarette in hand and a bottle of liquor in front of her listening to a radio that looked to be at least as old as I am. I recognized her as the floozy that I most often see visiting George. I gathered as George continued to gesticulate and slobber all over the room that he wanted me to make her leave. When she realized what he wanted and why I was there, she threw a fit and started going off on how all George had to do was ask her to leave and that she was just waiting for her clothes to dry and how George was just upset because she wasn't letting him feel her up. I just told her that if he wanted her to leave, she would have to leave. She tried to tell me that she was waiting for her clothes to dry. I assured her that I knew for a fact that they were dry (I hope you paid attention to the first paragraph). I waited around until she quit cussing and insulting George and grabbed her clothes and left. I then went back to my apartment.
Fifteen minutes later there was another knock on the door. It was George. This time he was bleeding from a bump the size and color of a red grape on his right cheek bone. Of course I asked him if he was alright and what happened and so on and so forth, but all I got out of him was that he needed my help to find his glasses. I started following him back to his apartment and saw that there was a police officer there. The Lieutenant from the Salvation Army happened to be there at this time for a pot-luck with the residents. At this point, I didn't know anything more than that George was bleeding and that the police had been called. The Lieutenant was aware already of George's floozies and told me he had just seen one come in and leave almost immediately just a few minutes before. I asked her what this one looked like, and he described a younger goth looking girl. That didn't sound familiar to me, and it certainly didn't sound like the floozy George had just wanted me to kick out. The Lt. went back to the dinner, and I spent the next twenty minutes trying to interpret George's babble to the police. What we did manage to gather was that a floozy had come, taken thirty dollars from George's wallet, and punched him in the face (knocking off his glasses) before leaving. George insisted he did not know her name. He did keep trying to tell the officers that he knew where her uncle lived. In the end, they had him ride along with them so he could point out the house. After that, I don't know what happened. I do know that a detective showed up the next day to talk to George, but that's the last I heard of it.
Patsy came to my office the other day to tell me that the glass on her oven door had broken. She said she had been using the self-cleaning cycle and when it was finished and she opened the door, the glass cracked. This might be true, or she might have just dropped a pan on the glass and didn't want to tell me. Either way, I just switched the door on her oven with the door on Alice's oven because Alice's oven is broken and is being replaced this coming week.
I have a new slave. Her name is Kayley (I'm just guessing at how to spell that). She's a sophomore in high school (meaning she is my oldest slave so far). She likes to skip school, and that is how she ended up in Restart. In fact, the Restart guy had promised me she'd be her two weeks before she ever actually showed up. She spent those two weeks switching between skipping Restart entirely and trying to trick them into thinking she was coming here.
For the moment, the pressure is off of Anna and me to reproduce. Anna's mother has her grandchild. Her name is Benita. She is four. No, Sarah did not magically birth a four year old. But Sarah is now the acting mother to a four year old. The summation of the long, complicated, and troubling story is that Benita is the niece of Jeff (Sarah's boyfriend). Benita's mother is quite literally crazy. Benita has been raised in homeless shelters in Chicago her whole life. Jeff is attempting to rescue Benita. Benita now lives with Jeff and Sarah, and Anna's mother is completely smitten with the girl. In fact, Benita is spending the night with the in-laws as I write this. She spent last weekend with Anna's parents too. Anna's mother has had a ball buying toys and clothes for her. You really have no idea how excited she is to have Benita around. Benita even calls her Grandma. She calls Hank (the dog) LadyBuns, and she knows me as Sally (we figured two uncle Geoff/Jeffs would be confusing).
Anna's father thought he might have to work last Sunday, so he asked me to fill in in the pulpit. I told the congregation that God gave the Law so that people would sin more.
Anna's birthday was also last Sunday. I let her leave the kitchen for a little bit to celebrate. She thought it was the best gift ever.
Project 86 was in the area twice last week. They were in Franklin last Wednesday and Cincinnati that Friday. The complete line-up was Disciple, Project 86, and Write This Down. I convinced Anna to come with me to the show in Franklin. She actually seemed to kind of enjoy herself, though she left with the impression that Project 86's lead singer is a jerk. Anna went bowling with some friends from work on Friday night, while I was at the Cincinnati show. I told her afterwards that she should have come to the Cincinnati show instead. The sound was much better. The crowd was more enthusiastic, and I think Andrew from Project was having a much better day. But in any case, Anna is now a veteran of a true rock show. She's hardcore. She actually took some really cool pictures during the show. I'll try to get them from her and post them on Facebook soon.
Haikus
Sara (the friend, not the resident, as per request)
Spastic Dutch girls rock
Accountants and oranges
Gangster's paradise
#102 Donna
Homemade cigarettes
Oxygen machine on high
My daughter wears sweats
Band: The Famine
Album: The Architects of Guilt
Genre: Death Metal
Saturday, February 12, 2011
A Haiku
You want poems? I'll give you poems. How about a haiku for each resident?
#101-Velma
Police scanner on.
Hiding away from the world.
Don't slip on the ice.
#101-Velma
Police scanner on.
Hiding away from the world.
Don't slip on the ice.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
It's Jon's fault
He wanted a poem. I promised him a poem. I felt bad posting an entry without first posting the poem, but alas, I take things like poetry too seriously and haven't been able to actually spit one out. But Jon, I promised you a poem, and you will have a poem ... someday.
What have you missed? Snow. Wind. Ice.
Daisy decided she had to go out three times between 4:30 and 6:30 this morning.
Anna had to open every day this past week. She's amazing.
We managed to keep our power during the ice storm on Tuesday, but much of the area did lose electricity.
One of the kids from church participated in the solo and ensemble contest today. She had Anna accompany her. Anna says that the performance went very well.
I itch somewhere unspeakable.
I'm hungry.
I'm guessing that so far the kids from church have had at least a third of their school days cancelled for snow.
If I were to be truly honest with you, I would say that I can see what makes most pop music popular. Some songs are just catchy. But sometimes there are artists with "hits" that just baffle me. And I'm not talking about obvious ones like Justin Bieber (though it would be a lie to say that the first time I heard one of his songs I thought it was a male singer). What I really don't understand is how anyone anytime anywhere could like Kings of Leon.
Daisy keeps farting.
Katie can't figure out how to lock her patio door, so I've had to show her multiple times.
I like hot wings. Aimee, I have you to thank for that.
When I do post in this blog, I do it while listening to music. I've decided I'll start sharing with you just what it is I'm hearing while I share these bits of my soul.
Band: As They Sleep
Album: Dynasty
Style: technical death metal
Goodnight.
What have you missed? Snow. Wind. Ice.
Daisy decided she had to go out three times between 4:30 and 6:30 this morning.
Anna had to open every day this past week. She's amazing.
We managed to keep our power during the ice storm on Tuesday, but much of the area did lose electricity.
One of the kids from church participated in the solo and ensemble contest today. She had Anna accompany her. Anna says that the performance went very well.
I itch somewhere unspeakable.
I'm hungry.
I'm guessing that so far the kids from church have had at least a third of their school days cancelled for snow.
If I were to be truly honest with you, I would say that I can see what makes most pop music popular. Some songs are just catchy. But sometimes there are artists with "hits" that just baffle me. And I'm not talking about obvious ones like Justin Bieber (though it would be a lie to say that the first time I heard one of his songs I thought it was a male singer). What I really don't understand is how anyone anytime anywhere could like Kings of Leon.
Daisy keeps farting.
Katie can't figure out how to lock her patio door, so I've had to show her multiple times.
I like hot wings. Aimee, I have you to thank for that.
When I do post in this blog, I do it while listening to music. I've decided I'll start sharing with you just what it is I'm hearing while I share these bits of my soul.
Band: As They Sleep
Album: Dynasty
Style: technical death metal
Goodnight.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
They Should Be Turned In
I have a headache.
Anna gave piano lessons today because she has to work ten hours tomorrow and didn't feel like giving piano lessons after that.
Daisy shredded a bunch of stuff all over the floor in this room and all over our couch.
I took down the Christmas tree. I think there were more ornaments on the floor than left on the tree.
Jana, you have be severely neglecting your blog, and I will not stand for it (though, I might sit for it).
Today while I was in the office, I was privileged to hear Bobbie rant to Patsy for at least half an hour. The general thesis of Bobbie's argument was that this is the worst place she has ever lived, and she wants her niece to move her down to Louisville. Her supporting points were that George and Katie are disgusting, Katie slams doors at all hours, Katie can actually hear ("She can hear just fine, I tell you. Don't tell me she can't."), the apartments are owned by the Salvation Army, other residents ask her for quarters, people leave old stuff out in the Community Room for other people to take if they want it (and apparently those who take it, keep it to sell in garage sales, and "they should be turned in" for that), and Mildred's grandson eats a lot. Poor Patsy asked Bobbie how she knew it was Katie slamming doors ("Because Whatchamacallit said so"). Patsy was just waiting for a ride from her daughter. You could hear the relief in Patsy's voice as she announced to Bobbie that her daughter had arrived. As she walked out, she turned to me and mouthed "She's crazy."
Cheef. It's what's for dinner.
I had really crazy dreams the other night, but I can't remember them at the moment. I think I was shot in one of them though.
Getting shot is a relatively common theme in my dreams.
I also dream a lot about being back on the high school wrestling team.
Anna has to be at work at five tomorrow morning. I hope she doesn't die.
I want hot wings.
Did you know that the diagram of the human tongue, you all grew up with, displaying the different regions of taste is a lie? Yes, your text books lied to you. You can taste different tastes on all parts of the tongue, with some areas being more sensitive than others depending on the person.
Textbooks also lie about how wings(as in lift and flight) work.
My right ear canal itches, but I'm wearing headphones. How can I solve this quandary?
My head still hurts. I took Excedrin almost two hours ago.
My right knee itches.
Now everything itches.
Anna gave piano lessons today because she has to work ten hours tomorrow and didn't feel like giving piano lessons after that.
Daisy shredded a bunch of stuff all over the floor in this room and all over our couch.
I took down the Christmas tree. I think there were more ornaments on the floor than left on the tree.
Jana, you have be severely neglecting your blog, and I will not stand for it (though, I might sit for it).
Today while I was in the office, I was privileged to hear Bobbie rant to Patsy for at least half an hour. The general thesis of Bobbie's argument was that this is the worst place she has ever lived, and she wants her niece to move her down to Louisville. Her supporting points were that George and Katie are disgusting, Katie slams doors at all hours, Katie can actually hear ("She can hear just fine, I tell you. Don't tell me she can't."), the apartments are owned by the Salvation Army, other residents ask her for quarters, people leave old stuff out in the Community Room for other people to take if they want it (and apparently those who take it, keep it to sell in garage sales, and "they should be turned in" for that), and Mildred's grandson eats a lot. Poor Patsy asked Bobbie how she knew it was Katie slamming doors ("Because Whatchamacallit said so"). Patsy was just waiting for a ride from her daughter. You could hear the relief in Patsy's voice as she announced to Bobbie that her daughter had arrived. As she walked out, she turned to me and mouthed "She's crazy."
Cheef. It's what's for dinner.
I had really crazy dreams the other night, but I can't remember them at the moment. I think I was shot in one of them though.
Getting shot is a relatively common theme in my dreams.
I also dream a lot about being back on the high school wrestling team.
Anna has to be at work at five tomorrow morning. I hope she doesn't die.
I want hot wings.
Did you know that the diagram of the human tongue, you all grew up with, displaying the different regions of taste is a lie? Yes, your text books lied to you. You can taste different tastes on all parts of the tongue, with some areas being more sensitive than others depending on the person.
Textbooks also lie about how wings(as in lift and flight) work.
My right ear canal itches, but I'm wearing headphones. How can I solve this quandary?
My head still hurts. I took Excedrin almost two hours ago.
My right knee itches.
Now everything itches.
Monday, January 3, 2011
The Second Pick
For Christmas, I gave Anna "Just Dance 2" for Wii. Did I mention that Anna got a Wii from her mother for Christmas (though true to her families' tradition, Anna was allowed to have her present over a month ahead of time)? I think I got her other things that had to do with the Wii as well, but that was so long ago, I forget what was for Christmas and what wasn't.
She got me a good pair of headphones, and she lets me play with the Wii.
Anna's parents gave me a .50 caliber muzzle-loading rifle.
I don't have any AriZona Pomegranate Green Tea.
Yesterday, Anna volunteered us to help transport some rescue dogs to their final destination. The dogs started in Tennessee. Anna and I drove them from Columbus to Lafayette.
Tebow throws an awfully goofy looking football, but he's exciting. I'm just worried that starting Tebow next year will be premature and cost us games Orton could help win.
I hope the Broncos don't hire a huge name like Gruden or Cowher.
Dark blue and white striped boxer briefs.
Anna had to work on New Years Day, so she couldn't stay up that late on New Years Eve. She was sleeping when it hit midnight, so I just kissed her and let her sleep.
You'd think Christmas and New Years would provide more to talk about.
I resolve to break all of my resolutions.
I keep gently tapping my keyboard, hoping it will magically produce something interesting.
Screw this.
Oh yeah. Anna's dad had to work on the Sunday after Christmas, so I filled in preaching. When we woke up that morning to get ready for church, we discovered that Daisy had puked all over the apartment. And I mean all over. I looked at what she had done on the couch and thought "how can this dog have held this much puke?" Then I found all the puke on both her beds and in other random spots. So instead of getting ready for church, I cleaned up puke. When I was done, she puked all over the apartment again. She must have puked her bodyweight. I guess she overindulged on Christmas.
Now, screw this.
She got me a good pair of headphones, and she lets me play with the Wii.
Anna's parents gave me a .50 caliber muzzle-loading rifle.
I don't have any AriZona Pomegranate Green Tea.
Yesterday, Anna volunteered us to help transport some rescue dogs to their final destination. The dogs started in Tennessee. Anna and I drove them from Columbus to Lafayette.
Tebow throws an awfully goofy looking football, but he's exciting. I'm just worried that starting Tebow next year will be premature and cost us games Orton could help win.
I hope the Broncos don't hire a huge name like Gruden or Cowher.
Dark blue and white striped boxer briefs.
Anna had to work on New Years Day, so she couldn't stay up that late on New Years Eve. She was sleeping when it hit midnight, so I just kissed her and let her sleep.
You'd think Christmas and New Years would provide more to talk about.
I resolve to break all of my resolutions.
I keep gently tapping my keyboard, hoping it will magically produce something interesting.
Screw this.
Oh yeah. Anna's dad had to work on the Sunday after Christmas, so I filled in preaching. When we woke up that morning to get ready for church, we discovered that Daisy had puked all over the apartment. And I mean all over. I looked at what she had done on the couch and thought "how can this dog have held this much puke?" Then I found all the puke on both her beds and in other random spots. So instead of getting ready for church, I cleaned up puke. When I was done, she puked all over the apartment again. She must have puked her bodyweight. I guess she overindulged on Christmas.
Now, screw this.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Technical Difficulties
On Tuesday of last week, Daulton was sick. When he came in to work, he told me this. I let him go work on a puzzle in the Community Room. Five minutes later I heard him rush to the bathroom and was then treated to the sound of him vomiting for awhile.
Anna got sick at work on Wednesday, but she said she felt better after she puked. I know I often feel better after puking.
It has snowed a decent amount the past week. Schools were cancelled last Monday. Some were cancelled last Tuesday, and those that weren't had two-hour delays. Snow was cancelled again on Thursday, and if it weren't for finals, I'm sure it would have been cancelled on Friday as well. The kids at church definitely wanted the snow day on Friday. I know at least one of them was indignant that they didn't cancel school on Friday, and thus she went into school completely unprepared for the finals that awaited her.
I had to clear the sidewalks a few times.
Anna's Christmas presents arrived today.
Anna's friend Chelsey decided to have a Christmas concert/fundraiser thing that featured herself. She asked Anna to sing a couple of songs with her. It was Friday night. Anna and Chelsey actually sound very good together, but on her own, I'm tempted to hit Chelsey with a brick (it's impossible to make you understand what she does when she sings without you actually hearing her, so I won't even try). They sang Christmas songs. People were impressed (naturally).
On our way home, the window on the driver's side door got stuck half-way down. It stubbornly refused to shut. I ended up driving it out to Anna's parents so I could borrow their car while we left the Explorer in their garage.
Anna had to work Saturday until one, and at two, we had one last practice scheduled for the Christmas program. While Anna was at work, I went in search of fog machine liquid to use as an effect in the program. I figured my best bet was checking party stores. Google Maps told me there was a Party City in the outlets in Edinburgh, but it lied. I wasted quite awhile circling the building, making sure I hadn't missed it. By the time I realized Google maps had lied to me, I also realized I had an hour and a half to find fog liquid before I had to be back to pick up Anna from work. The next closest party stores were in Greenwood, which is a 40 minute drive. I floored it. Except, I was driving an thirty year old diesel BMW, and it had a horrible time trying to reach highway speed. When I reached Greenwood, I realized every person in Indiana and all of their out-of-state relatives were Christmas shopping, and the roads were insane. I finally made my way into Party City. I located the fog machines. I located the empty space above the fog machine liquid label. I looked at the clock and figured that if I headed back to Columbus at that moment, I would be on time to pick up Anna. I checked Google Maps, and it told me there was a USA Party Supply up the road a couple miles. I hopped in the car, cussed at traffic, and finally made it. Fortunately, they did have the liquid I needed. I floored it all the way back to Columbus, and I ended up getting Anna fifteen minutes late. She didn't kill me though, so that was good.
Cade kept doing jigs and yelling the songs during practice. He didn't know his lines, and he gave Anna a constant narration of his train-of-thought even while she was trying to have everyone act like it was the actually performance. We were terrified of what would happen on Sunday. (Remember, this is the same kid who threw a bell during a song at Easter)
Anna promised the kids pizza after play practice. Cade had been told by his father that he couldn't have any pizza since he was going to a party afterwards and shouldn't ruin his appetite. Anna knew this, so she didn't give Cade any pizza. Cade sat and cried. One of the other adults didn't know about the party and gave Cade some pizza. Cade was happy again. I felt bad when Cade wasn't eating pizza. I know I would have probably cried too when I was his age. Heck, I probably would have punched someone.
Sunday was the day of the program. To sum it up, everything we thought would go wrong didn't, and everything we were sure about went wrong, or I could shorten that to "technical difficulties." In the space between the first and the second songs, some of the kids were supposed to be changing while others continued to act. When the time for the second song came, I called the kids who had changed back onto the stage. During the song, I heard a noise behind me and turned to find three of the kids who were supposed to be out on stage singing telling me they hadn't realized they were supposed to be out there yet. I just had them sit still. The fog machine didn't work when the time came to use it (that was especially painful to me, considering my adventure to get the fog liquid). For one scene, we wanted to project a video depicting the manger scene. When the time came for that, I went to hit "Play" and realized someone had unplugged the projector. It took a couple minutes for the thing to heat up and be ready to play. Anna actually got to announce to the congregation that we were having technical difficulties. Perhaps the most annoying incident though was during out black-light hands performance (We had on white gloves, had the sanctuary dark, and made shapes with our hands in front of black-lights. I think it was pretty cool.) Partway through the song, the speakers started cutting in and out and crackling badly. We were using a stereo connected to the bigger sound system. Sometimes the sound would come out of the system, sometimes it would come out of half the system, sometimes it only came out of the smaller stereo speakers, and sometimes it even cut out completely. We still aren't sure what happened to cause it, but it was super distracting. The kids held it together though. Then when it was all said and done, we found out that the video camera we had purchased for the purpose of being able to record this program had quit shortly into the performance.
Technical difficulties.
Tebow didn't get killed on Sunday. I was wrong. Now they are saying he will start the last two games. At least the stands won't be empty.
I think the Broncos best bet is to trade their top five draft pick for some second round picks in the draft and build up their defense. Oh enver Broncos, you've taken the "D" out of Denver.
Sunday night was the family Christmas for Anna's mother's side. Anna's mother has something like 10 siblings (I'm really not sure), and there were at least thirty people at Anna's parent's house for this party. Anna and I tried to hide downstairs with her cousins, Scott and Rachel and play Wii. Unfortunately, Daulton showed up, along with a couple other midget relatives, so we had to pretend we would rather watch Christmas movies on TV in order to keep them from playing with the Wii. Even so, Daulton kept asking if he could play Wii.
Toward the end of the evening, everyone was forced together for a family picture. When it was done, Daulton kept saying that he wanted "a photo of that picture." He, honest to goodness, used that exact phrase multiple times. I told Anna and Rachel, I would like to make sure he does get a photo of that picture. I'll just make sure it's taken from far far away.
A little girl kept following Daulton around and calling him Justin Bieber. This was hilarious. But you know, if you put freckles on Justin Bieber and gave her darker hair, she might look an awful lot like Daulton. Poor Daulton, as a pre-pubescent boy, he looks like a pre-pubescent girl.
Yesterday morning, I took Anna to work and then picked up the Explorer and took it into the shop. The shop is a mile from our apartment, so I figured I'd just walk back after I dropped off the car, but when one of the employees at the shop saw me walking they hopped in a car and offered to drive me. When the car was finished though, I didn't have someone to take to get it, so I walked. This would be fine normally, except it turns out I had to walk the majority of the way through very dense snow that was beginning to crust over. I definitely rolled my ankle a little. And my shoes, which were finally starting to dry out from clearing all the snow last week, are still wet as I write this. But the window is no longer stuck.
Daulton's last day was today. It is now Christmas break of the kids. Maybe this time Daulton will stay out of trouble, and I won't ever have to see him again. Except I'll probably have to see him on Christmas day when we go to Anna's grandmother's (the nice one) Christmas party. And then of course, I'll have to see him next Christmas as well. That is providing he doesn't actually end up in jail by that time.
Now that I think about it, I think we do have some wrapping paper here. This means I can wrap Anna's present without having to worry about sneaking it over to her parent's without her seeing it.
People who read this blog: Jana
You all knew Jana read this blog, but this time she is doing it from Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. This is exciting because it adds another country to those that have visited this blog. Have fun riding elephants and eating monkey brains, Jana.
Happy Kwanzaa, everyone.
Anna got sick at work on Wednesday, but she said she felt better after she puked. I know I often feel better after puking.
It has snowed a decent amount the past week. Schools were cancelled last Monday. Some were cancelled last Tuesday, and those that weren't had two-hour delays. Snow was cancelled again on Thursday, and if it weren't for finals, I'm sure it would have been cancelled on Friday as well. The kids at church definitely wanted the snow day on Friday. I know at least one of them was indignant that they didn't cancel school on Friday, and thus she went into school completely unprepared for the finals that awaited her.
I had to clear the sidewalks a few times.
Anna's Christmas presents arrived today.
Anna's friend Chelsey decided to have a Christmas concert/fundraiser thing that featured herself. She asked Anna to sing a couple of songs with her. It was Friday night. Anna and Chelsey actually sound very good together, but on her own, I'm tempted to hit Chelsey with a brick (it's impossible to make you understand what she does when she sings without you actually hearing her, so I won't even try). They sang Christmas songs. People were impressed (naturally).
On our way home, the window on the driver's side door got stuck half-way down. It stubbornly refused to shut. I ended up driving it out to Anna's parents so I could borrow their car while we left the Explorer in their garage.
Anna had to work Saturday until one, and at two, we had one last practice scheduled for the Christmas program. While Anna was at work, I went in search of fog machine liquid to use as an effect in the program. I figured my best bet was checking party stores. Google Maps told me there was a Party City in the outlets in Edinburgh, but it lied. I wasted quite awhile circling the building, making sure I hadn't missed it. By the time I realized Google maps had lied to me, I also realized I had an hour and a half to find fog liquid before I had to be back to pick up Anna from work. The next closest party stores were in Greenwood, which is a 40 minute drive. I floored it. Except, I was driving an thirty year old diesel BMW, and it had a horrible time trying to reach highway speed. When I reached Greenwood, I realized every person in Indiana and all of their out-of-state relatives were Christmas shopping, and the roads were insane. I finally made my way into Party City. I located the fog machines. I located the empty space above the fog machine liquid label. I looked at the clock and figured that if I headed back to Columbus at that moment, I would be on time to pick up Anna. I checked Google Maps, and it told me there was a USA Party Supply up the road a couple miles. I hopped in the car, cussed at traffic, and finally made it. Fortunately, they did have the liquid I needed. I floored it all the way back to Columbus, and I ended up getting Anna fifteen minutes late. She didn't kill me though, so that was good.
Cade kept doing jigs and yelling the songs during practice. He didn't know his lines, and he gave Anna a constant narration of his train-of-thought even while she was trying to have everyone act like it was the actually performance. We were terrified of what would happen on Sunday. (Remember, this is the same kid who threw a bell during a song at Easter)
Anna promised the kids pizza after play practice. Cade had been told by his father that he couldn't have any pizza since he was going to a party afterwards and shouldn't ruin his appetite. Anna knew this, so she didn't give Cade any pizza. Cade sat and cried. One of the other adults didn't know about the party and gave Cade some pizza. Cade was happy again. I felt bad when Cade wasn't eating pizza. I know I would have probably cried too when I was his age. Heck, I probably would have punched someone.
Sunday was the day of the program. To sum it up, everything we thought would go wrong didn't, and everything we were sure about went wrong, or I could shorten that to "technical difficulties." In the space between the first and the second songs, some of the kids were supposed to be changing while others continued to act. When the time for the second song came, I called the kids who had changed back onto the stage. During the song, I heard a noise behind me and turned to find three of the kids who were supposed to be out on stage singing telling me they hadn't realized they were supposed to be out there yet. I just had them sit still. The fog machine didn't work when the time came to use it (that was especially painful to me, considering my adventure to get the fog liquid). For one scene, we wanted to project a video depicting the manger scene. When the time came for that, I went to hit "Play" and realized someone had unplugged the projector. It took a couple minutes for the thing to heat up and be ready to play. Anna actually got to announce to the congregation that we were having technical difficulties. Perhaps the most annoying incident though was during out black-light hands performance (We had on white gloves, had the sanctuary dark, and made shapes with our hands in front of black-lights. I think it was pretty cool.) Partway through the song, the speakers started cutting in and out and crackling badly. We were using a stereo connected to the bigger sound system. Sometimes the sound would come out of the system, sometimes it would come out of half the system, sometimes it only came out of the smaller stereo speakers, and sometimes it even cut out completely. We still aren't sure what happened to cause it, but it was super distracting. The kids held it together though. Then when it was all said and done, we found out that the video camera we had purchased for the purpose of being able to record this program had quit shortly into the performance.
Technical difficulties.
Tebow didn't get killed on Sunday. I was wrong. Now they are saying he will start the last two games. At least the stands won't be empty.
I think the Broncos best bet is to trade their top five draft pick for some second round picks in the draft and build up their defense. Oh enver Broncos, you've taken the "D" out of Denver.
Sunday night was the family Christmas for Anna's mother's side. Anna's mother has something like 10 siblings (I'm really not sure), and there were at least thirty people at Anna's parent's house for this party. Anna and I tried to hide downstairs with her cousins, Scott and Rachel and play Wii. Unfortunately, Daulton showed up, along with a couple other midget relatives, so we had to pretend we would rather watch Christmas movies on TV in order to keep them from playing with the Wii. Even so, Daulton kept asking if he could play Wii.
Toward the end of the evening, everyone was forced together for a family picture. When it was done, Daulton kept saying that he wanted "a photo of that picture." He, honest to goodness, used that exact phrase multiple times. I told Anna and Rachel, I would like to make sure he does get a photo of that picture. I'll just make sure it's taken from far far away.
A little girl kept following Daulton around and calling him Justin Bieber. This was hilarious. But you know, if you put freckles on Justin Bieber and gave her darker hair, she might look an awful lot like Daulton. Poor Daulton, as a pre-pubescent boy, he looks like a pre-pubescent girl.
Yesterday morning, I took Anna to work and then picked up the Explorer and took it into the shop. The shop is a mile from our apartment, so I figured I'd just walk back after I dropped off the car, but when one of the employees at the shop saw me walking they hopped in a car and offered to drive me. When the car was finished though, I didn't have someone to take to get it, so I walked. This would be fine normally, except it turns out I had to walk the majority of the way through very dense snow that was beginning to crust over. I definitely rolled my ankle a little. And my shoes, which were finally starting to dry out from clearing all the snow last week, are still wet as I write this. But the window is no longer stuck.
Daulton's last day was today. It is now Christmas break of the kids. Maybe this time Daulton will stay out of trouble, and I won't ever have to see him again. Except I'll probably have to see him on Christmas day when we go to Anna's grandmother's (the nice one) Christmas party. And then of course, I'll have to see him next Christmas as well. That is providing he doesn't actually end up in jail by that time.
Now that I think about it, I think we do have some wrapping paper here. This means I can wrap Anna's present without having to worry about sneaking it over to her parent's without her seeing it.
People who read this blog: Jana
You all knew Jana read this blog, but this time she is doing it from Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. This is exciting because it adds another country to those that have visited this blog. Have fun riding elephants and eating monkey brains, Jana.
Happy Kwanzaa, everyone.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Daulton Again
Daulton is 16. He still hasn't hit puberty. In fact, he still talks with that hard to understand little kid voice that most five year olds have. Sometimes I really do struggle to figure out what he's saying.
I was checking the mailbox last Tuesday before I opened up the office, and I glanced out into the parking lot. A small child was exiting a car. I was confused. Why wasn't this small child in school. This small child approached. Yeah, you know who it was.
I'm pretty sure the first thing out of Daulton's mouth was "Are you mad at me, Geoff? Are you mad at me for getting in trouble again? It wasn't my fault. I didn't do anything." But of course, it might also have been, "I murdered several people and have been trafficking drugs for the Mafia." I couldn't really say.
As near as I can tell, this is Daulton's explanation for how he ended up back with me (I can't be positive about all of this because I was serious about him talking like a five year old kid). According to Daulton, it all started at a party. Apparently Daulton is cool enough and mature enough to hang out at parties with people his age. But he promised me there were no drugs or alcohol at this party. So Daulton and the other party-goers were minding their own business when a couple of punks showed up with guns and such and crashed the party. Daulton, of course, ran for his life. These punks decided he was a good target, so they hit him with a car. This car then caused enough damage that Daulton was hospitalized and prescribed hydrocodone for his pain. When Daulton went back to school something (he won't tell me what, he says he doesn't remember) made him so angry that the hydrocodone interacted with his ADHD medication , and he passed out. (This is the part that is especially unclear to me) I think he implied that he did some crazy stuff before he passed out, but again, he says he doesn't remember. In any case, he claims he woke up in the hospital and was informed that he was kicked out of school again.
As for Macy, I hadn't seen her for a week prior to Daulton showing up. If I had to guess, I would say that she quit coming to school altogether, was officially dumped from the program, and is now spending a month in juvenile detention.
Anna's sick.
Church was snowed out last night. This cost us one of our last practices before the children's Christmas program. I think they'll be alright though. They've worked hard.
George and Katie receive "meals-on-wheels" dinners. There's a cycle of at least five different people who deliver these meals. One particular lady is always accompanied by a young man with obvious mental and physical issues. From the little contact I've had with him, I would guess he has the mental competency of a toddler. He can talk, but it's never more than a repeated "hi" like you would get from a friendly four year old. On Wednesday, they were here to deliver meals. After they left, Daulton tells me "Hey Geoff, that guy just called me an "n" word. I should have punched him in his face, shouldn't I?" I tried to tell Daulton that I doubted that guy said any such thing and that he was mentally challenged. Daulton insisted that he should still have punched the guy in the face. I tried to convince him that he just misunderstood the guy, but I don't think Daulton bought it.
An old friend of Anna's parents, who attends church with us, invited Anna, her parents, and me over for dinner on Friday night. I'm pretty sure it's a Christmas tradition that she and Anna's parents have dinner together, and now that we live in the area, Anna and I are involved in the tradition too. It was nice. She had some homemade jelly. I ate way too many biscuits.
It snowed a few inches yesterday. There really wasn't that much snow, but it drifted badly. I couldn't open the porch door to take Daisy outside.
Anna's supposed to work in the morning. I don't know if she's going to be well enough to go. Unfortunately, she's supposed to call in two hours in advance if she's going to miss work. Thus, I think she's going to wake up at 5 a.m. tomorrow to see how she feels. No one feels well at 5 a.m.
Someone take this box of Mike and Ike's away from me.
I bought Anna some pseudoephedrine yesterday. As I'm sure you know, you have to sell your soul to the devil to be able to purchase the stuff. It always makes me feel like a criminal when they ask to see my driver's license in order to buy something.
I'm not looking forward to the Broncos' rebuilding process. This isn't going to be pretty.
McDaniels took a team that hadn't gone worse than 7-9 (except for the year following Elway's retirement) since 1990 and turned it into one of the worst in the NFL. Right now, I contend that they are the worst team in the NFL. I think the Panthers would beat us like a redheaded step-child. We won't win another game this year. Poor Studesville. This isn't his fault. He never had a chance.
It is times like these when I am grateful that there is hope to be found in the Rockies.
I was checking the mailbox last Tuesday before I opened up the office, and I glanced out into the parking lot. A small child was exiting a car. I was confused. Why wasn't this small child in school. This small child approached. Yeah, you know who it was.
I'm pretty sure the first thing out of Daulton's mouth was "Are you mad at me, Geoff? Are you mad at me for getting in trouble again? It wasn't my fault. I didn't do anything." But of course, it might also have been, "I murdered several people and have been trafficking drugs for the Mafia." I couldn't really say.
As near as I can tell, this is Daulton's explanation for how he ended up back with me (I can't be positive about all of this because I was serious about him talking like a five year old kid). According to Daulton, it all started at a party. Apparently Daulton is cool enough and mature enough to hang out at parties with people his age. But he promised me there were no drugs or alcohol at this party. So Daulton and the other party-goers were minding their own business when a couple of punks showed up with guns and such and crashed the party. Daulton, of course, ran for his life. These punks decided he was a good target, so they hit him with a car. This car then caused enough damage that Daulton was hospitalized and prescribed hydrocodone for his pain. When Daulton went back to school something (he won't tell me what, he says he doesn't remember) made him so angry that the hydrocodone interacted with his ADHD medication , and he passed out. (This is the part that is especially unclear to me) I think he implied that he did some crazy stuff before he passed out, but again, he says he doesn't remember. In any case, he claims he woke up in the hospital and was informed that he was kicked out of school again.
As for Macy, I hadn't seen her for a week prior to Daulton showing up. If I had to guess, I would say that she quit coming to school altogether, was officially dumped from the program, and is now spending a month in juvenile detention.
Anna's sick.
Church was snowed out last night. This cost us one of our last practices before the children's Christmas program. I think they'll be alright though. They've worked hard.
George and Katie receive "meals-on-wheels" dinners. There's a cycle of at least five different people who deliver these meals. One particular lady is always accompanied by a young man with obvious mental and physical issues. From the little contact I've had with him, I would guess he has the mental competency of a toddler. He can talk, but it's never more than a repeated "hi" like you would get from a friendly four year old. On Wednesday, they were here to deliver meals. After they left, Daulton tells me "Hey Geoff, that guy just called me an "n" word. I should have punched him in his face, shouldn't I?" I tried to tell Daulton that I doubted that guy said any such thing and that he was mentally challenged. Daulton insisted that he should still have punched the guy in the face. I tried to convince him that he just misunderstood the guy, but I don't think Daulton bought it.
An old friend of Anna's parents, who attends church with us, invited Anna, her parents, and me over for dinner on Friday night. I'm pretty sure it's a Christmas tradition that she and Anna's parents have dinner together, and now that we live in the area, Anna and I are involved in the tradition too. It was nice. She had some homemade jelly. I ate way too many biscuits.
It snowed a few inches yesterday. There really wasn't that much snow, but it drifted badly. I couldn't open the porch door to take Daisy outside.
Anna's supposed to work in the morning. I don't know if she's going to be well enough to go. Unfortunately, she's supposed to call in two hours in advance if she's going to miss work. Thus, I think she's going to wake up at 5 a.m. tomorrow to see how she feels. No one feels well at 5 a.m.
Someone take this box of Mike and Ike's away from me.
I bought Anna some pseudoephedrine yesterday. As I'm sure you know, you have to sell your soul to the devil to be able to purchase the stuff. It always makes me feel like a criminal when they ask to see my driver's license in order to buy something.
I'm not looking forward to the Broncos' rebuilding process. This isn't going to be pretty.
McDaniels took a team that hadn't gone worse than 7-9 (except for the year following Elway's retirement) since 1990 and turned it into one of the worst in the NFL. Right now, I contend that they are the worst team in the NFL. I think the Panthers would beat us like a redheaded step-child. We won't win another game this year. Poor Studesville. This isn't his fault. He never had a chance.
It is times like these when I am grateful that there is hope to be found in the Rockies.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
I'm Conflicted
Jon, I dedicate this post to you. Your griping has given me the motivation to do this.
The Broncos just fired the best coach they ever had. I can't believe they would let a gem like McDaniels get away.
I fixed most of Thanksgiving dinner. I made the turkey. I made the dressing. I made the potatoes. I made the gravy. I made an asiago strata. No one dead. It was a minor miracle.
I was shooting to have everything ready to eat at 1 p.m. At 12:45 I was on schedule but then my phone rang. Bobbie had locked herself out. Anna and her mom volunteered to go let Bobbie in so I could finish the cooking. That was very kind of them. They will be sainted by the Catholic church for their goodness. I wanted to murder Bobbie. I am not kind. I might have throttled her if I had gone to let her in. Her carelessness delayed our Thanksgiving dinner by over half an hour. There is a special place in Hell for people who delay Thanksgiving dinner.
Anna had to work at 6 a.m. on one of the week days following Thanksgiving. At three that morning, the emergency pull cord alarm started going off. I bolted out of bed, threw some clothes on, grabbed my keys, and rushed into the hallway. In the hallway, I found Beulah standing outside of her apartment and the emergency light blinking over her door. So had she set her bed on fire? Had she just subdued a cat-burglar? Had her cable stopped working? No. She "heard" Katie fall out of bed (Beulah lives in the apartment next to Katie). Like heck she heard Katie fall out of bed. Beulah is nearly as deaf as Katie. Beulah can't hear it if you bang on her door. And of course, Katie can't hear it if you knock on her door. So there was no way of actually verifying that Katie was alright without entering her apartment at three in the morning to see if she was in bed or not. Apparently Beulah had been trying to knock on Katie's door, and obviously, the best thing to do when she didn't get a response was to pull her own emergency alarm to wake me up. So I stood there at three in the morning wondering how on earth to make Beulah go to bed and turn the stupid alarm off. I knew the Katie had her own emergency pull cord. I also knew that Katie wears a "help! I've fallen, and I can't get up" alarm around her neck. If she fell out of bed and couldn't get up, she'd be able to use those herself. If she fell out of bed and was dead, well, then she was dead. There was no reason for me to go into her apartment to check on her, even if Beulah thought she heard something. This was my solution: I walked outside, waited a second, came back in and informed Beulah that I could see nothing wrong through Katie's windows and told her to go to bed and shut off the freaking alarm.
I can't tell of all these people are getting crazier all at once or if I am just getting really sick of them.
Bobbie regularly just walks into other people's apartments.
The other day she was walking around the building for at least an hour, muttering about how she'd be ashamed to live in such filth (referring to Katie and George and Alice and who knows who else she thinks is filthy).
I quoted this on Facebook, but it's worth repeating. The other day, Bobbie came into the office and was talking to me about who knows what. In middle of the conversation, she announced that "Columbus wants to name that school over there (there's an elementary a block away) after me. I've worked my whole life. Dr. Shed says there's nothing wrong with my mind. I'm just stressed."
I keep listening to this new song "Waiting for the End" by Linkin Park, on repeat. I'm not a big Linkin Park fan, but this might be the best thing I've heard out of mainstream music in.....ever.
We keep practicing for the Christmas program. Sometimes I'm afraid Anna's head will explode from stress.
Gray.
I put up the Christmas tree the other day. Chief promptly made it look like poop. I'm not sure if it's even worth trying to put the ornaments back on it that he's torn off. Maybe if he knocks more than half of them off, I will put half of the ones he has knocked off back on. If I keep doing that, I can at least make sure there is always one ornament on the tree.
My ear itches.
The furnace for the common areas of the building is broken. It's rather chilly on the hallway.
I guess this is the point where I talk about what you really want to know. Just what is my reaction to the Donkeys firing McDummy (I know that's lame, but the better ones are also filled with expletives)?
There are pros and cons to this move. The biggest pro to me is that McDaniels can't do anymore personnel damage. He won't be able to jack up another draft, and he won't be able to trade away talent for people who will ride the bench. This also is a sign that the Denver ownership honestly does care that the Broncos club at least appears to have integrity. There's a reason the Patriots are thought of as an evil empire. This was one of my biggest reasons for not wanting McDaniels hired in the first place, and I am glad that it was a factor in his removal. This will also mean that McDaniels won't be poking around in the defense anymore. He took an above average defense last year and turned it epically bad by deciding the defensive coordinator was too competent (or something). Hopefully, this will also teach ownership a lesson and prevent them from giving the power of the general manager to the head coach.
There are other pros, but those are the major ones. Unfortunately there are also cons.
Instead of McDaniels getting a chance to prove himself in a third year, we are going to have to watch another coach rebuild the team that he decimated. Remember, McDaniels was supposed to be an instant success. The Broncos were supposed to be a playoff team last year. Except that instead of sticking with the team he was handed, McDaniels shipped out nearly 80% of that roster in the past two years. Now we have one of the worst teams in football, and it's much harder to bring in talent than it is to ship it out. And even when we do get the talent in, it is going to take time for it all to gel. Also, what happens to Tebow? What happens to Orton? What happens to Quinn? Is Tebow going to get a fair chance with another coach? But it's possible that they might just play Tebow to put butts in the seats. If that's the case, will Orton get shoved aside for someone who isn't ready to play?
The bottom line is that I am glad McDaniels is gone. I think that it's the right move. I don't care that the Broncos have to pay three coaches next year. I'm just not looking forward to the rebuilding process that the Broncos have coming.
I would like to point out something I said last year before the season even started. I wondered then, and I am almost certain now that McDaniels was just a plant by Belichick to destroy an opponent from the inside out. That seems to be the common thread to all the coaches that have emerged from his coaching tree.
So yeah, that's it.
Oh, and Daulton is back.
The Broncos just fired the best coach they ever had. I can't believe they would let a gem like McDaniels get away.
I fixed most of Thanksgiving dinner. I made the turkey. I made the dressing. I made the potatoes. I made the gravy. I made an asiago strata. No one dead. It was a minor miracle.
I was shooting to have everything ready to eat at 1 p.m. At 12:45 I was on schedule but then my phone rang. Bobbie had locked herself out. Anna and her mom volunteered to go let Bobbie in so I could finish the cooking. That was very kind of them. They will be sainted by the Catholic church for their goodness. I wanted to murder Bobbie. I am not kind. I might have throttled her if I had gone to let her in. Her carelessness delayed our Thanksgiving dinner by over half an hour. There is a special place in Hell for people who delay Thanksgiving dinner.
Anna had to work at 6 a.m. on one of the week days following Thanksgiving. At three that morning, the emergency pull cord alarm started going off. I bolted out of bed, threw some clothes on, grabbed my keys, and rushed into the hallway. In the hallway, I found Beulah standing outside of her apartment and the emergency light blinking over her door. So had she set her bed on fire? Had she just subdued a cat-burglar? Had her cable stopped working? No. She "heard" Katie fall out of bed (Beulah lives in the apartment next to Katie). Like heck she heard Katie fall out of bed. Beulah is nearly as deaf as Katie. Beulah can't hear it if you bang on her door. And of course, Katie can't hear it if you knock on her door. So there was no way of actually verifying that Katie was alright without entering her apartment at three in the morning to see if she was in bed or not. Apparently Beulah had been trying to knock on Katie's door, and obviously, the best thing to do when she didn't get a response was to pull her own emergency alarm to wake me up. So I stood there at three in the morning wondering how on earth to make Beulah go to bed and turn the stupid alarm off. I knew the Katie had her own emergency pull cord. I also knew that Katie wears a "help! I've fallen, and I can't get up" alarm around her neck. If she fell out of bed and couldn't get up, she'd be able to use those herself. If she fell out of bed and was dead, well, then she was dead. There was no reason for me to go into her apartment to check on her, even if Beulah thought she heard something. This was my solution: I walked outside, waited a second, came back in and informed Beulah that I could see nothing wrong through Katie's windows and told her to go to bed and shut off the freaking alarm.
I can't tell of all these people are getting crazier all at once or if I am just getting really sick of them.
Bobbie regularly just walks into other people's apartments.
The other day she was walking around the building for at least an hour, muttering about how she'd be ashamed to live in such filth (referring to Katie and George and Alice and who knows who else she thinks is filthy).
I quoted this on Facebook, but it's worth repeating. The other day, Bobbie came into the office and was talking to me about who knows what. In middle of the conversation, she announced that "Columbus wants to name that school over there (there's an elementary a block away) after me. I've worked my whole life. Dr. Shed says there's nothing wrong with my mind. I'm just stressed."
I keep listening to this new song "Waiting for the End" by Linkin Park, on repeat. I'm not a big Linkin Park fan, but this might be the best thing I've heard out of mainstream music in.....ever.
We keep practicing for the Christmas program. Sometimes I'm afraid Anna's head will explode from stress.
Gray.
I put up the Christmas tree the other day. Chief promptly made it look like poop. I'm not sure if it's even worth trying to put the ornaments back on it that he's torn off. Maybe if he knocks more than half of them off, I will put half of the ones he has knocked off back on. If I keep doing that, I can at least make sure there is always one ornament on the tree.
My ear itches.
The furnace for the common areas of the building is broken. It's rather chilly on the hallway.
I guess this is the point where I talk about what you really want to know. Just what is my reaction to the Donkeys firing McDummy (I know that's lame, but the better ones are also filled with expletives)?
There are pros and cons to this move. The biggest pro to me is that McDaniels can't do anymore personnel damage. He won't be able to jack up another draft, and he won't be able to trade away talent for people who will ride the bench. This also is a sign that the Denver ownership honestly does care that the Broncos club at least appears to have integrity. There's a reason the Patriots are thought of as an evil empire. This was one of my biggest reasons for not wanting McDaniels hired in the first place, and I am glad that it was a factor in his removal. This will also mean that McDaniels won't be poking around in the defense anymore. He took an above average defense last year and turned it epically bad by deciding the defensive coordinator was too competent (or something). Hopefully, this will also teach ownership a lesson and prevent them from giving the power of the general manager to the head coach.
There are other pros, but those are the major ones. Unfortunately there are also cons.
Instead of McDaniels getting a chance to prove himself in a third year, we are going to have to watch another coach rebuild the team that he decimated. Remember, McDaniels was supposed to be an instant success. The Broncos were supposed to be a playoff team last year. Except that instead of sticking with the team he was handed, McDaniels shipped out nearly 80% of that roster in the past two years. Now we have one of the worst teams in football, and it's much harder to bring in talent than it is to ship it out. And even when we do get the talent in, it is going to take time for it all to gel. Also, what happens to Tebow? What happens to Orton? What happens to Quinn? Is Tebow going to get a fair chance with another coach? But it's possible that they might just play Tebow to put butts in the seats. If that's the case, will Orton get shoved aside for someone who isn't ready to play?
The bottom line is that I am glad McDaniels is gone. I think that it's the right move. I don't care that the Broncos have to pay three coaches next year. I'm just not looking forward to the rebuilding process that the Broncos have coming.
I would like to point out something I said last year before the season even started. I wondered then, and I am almost certain now that McDaniels was just a plant by Belichick to destroy an opponent from the inside out. That seems to be the common thread to all the coaches that have emerged from his coaching tree.
So yeah, that's it.
Oh, and Daulton is back.
Friday, November 12, 2010
Out of Order
Anna and I were jolted out of sleep at about 6 a.m. on Tuesday morning by the sound of frantic violent knocking on our door. I scrambled for some clothes and rushed to the door. I glanced through the peephole and saw nothing, so I opened the door and stepped into the hall. I still saw nothing. I started to check down the other hall when I heard the same knocking, this time on someone else's door. It was George. He was beating on Pat's door with his cane. I asked him what was wrong. He needed a quarter. I was ready to commit murder. I did give George a quarter because I did not want George to keep going down the hallway banging on people's doors with his cane.
One of our dryers is broken. I have it clearly labeled as "Out of Order." But apparently having a sign posted on a dryer over-top the coin slot and control panel isn't enough to tell an illiterate person you might not want to use this dryer. Apparently it's also not enough of a clue that the dryer's display lights are not on. You know how I know this? George needed a quarter because Katie put all of her quarters into the broken dryer. I was ready to commit double homicide.
One of the washing machines has been leaking onto the laundry room floor. I had the repairman out today to fix it. When we entered the laundry room, we discovered George and Katie in there up to their old tricks. And what do you know? Katie put all of her quarters into the still broken dryer. I was regretting not committing those murders.
Macy faked illness on Monday and Thursday to get out of going to Restart. I was talking to Anna about her, and how much she depresses me. I don't see how she has any hope for a decent life. I cannot imagine she actually graduates high school. I can't even picture her making it out of her freshman year. How can people have the ability to make such life changing decisions before they understand the consequences?
UnderOath just released a new album. I was never really a huge fan of them, but I think I really like this new album. Dispensing with their drummer/clean vocalist has done them a world of good.
I'm thirsty. I have a bunch of AriZona Pomegranate Green Tea in the car. I don't have it sitting in a gold plated person refrigerator next to my computer. My life is fail.
When I do get ridiculously wealthy, Jana I am going to buy your soul and make you my slave. That way you can spend the rest of your life in misery under my capitalist pig reign.
Daisy smells like a swamp monster's anal glands.
We got a new bookshelf. It is located conveniently so that it makes a good place to drop off any mail or bills that we get and need to keep within easy reach. Unfortunately, Howie decided this bookshelf makes a good perch. He now intentionally shoves everything off the top so that he can lay down comfortably.
Anna works too hard. Someone should give her a billion dollars so that she can retire.
Bobbie told me today that Alice shoved her and shook her. I don't know if this is true or not. If it is true then Bobbie deserved it.
Goodnight people. Hugs not drugs.
One of our dryers is broken. I have it clearly labeled as "Out of Order." But apparently having a sign posted on a dryer over-top the coin slot and control panel isn't enough to tell an illiterate person you might not want to use this dryer. Apparently it's also not enough of a clue that the dryer's display lights are not on. You know how I know this? George needed a quarter because Katie put all of her quarters into the broken dryer. I was ready to commit double homicide.
One of the washing machines has been leaking onto the laundry room floor. I had the repairman out today to fix it. When we entered the laundry room, we discovered George and Katie in there up to their old tricks. And what do you know? Katie put all of her quarters into the still broken dryer. I was regretting not committing those murders.
Macy faked illness on Monday and Thursday to get out of going to Restart. I was talking to Anna about her, and how much she depresses me. I don't see how she has any hope for a decent life. I cannot imagine she actually graduates high school. I can't even picture her making it out of her freshman year. How can people have the ability to make such life changing decisions before they understand the consequences?
UnderOath just released a new album. I was never really a huge fan of them, but I think I really like this new album. Dispensing with their drummer/clean vocalist has done them a world of good.
I'm thirsty. I have a bunch of AriZona Pomegranate Green Tea in the car. I don't have it sitting in a gold plated person refrigerator next to my computer. My life is fail.
When I do get ridiculously wealthy, Jana I am going to buy your soul and make you my slave. That way you can spend the rest of your life in misery under my capitalist pig reign.
Daisy smells like a swamp monster's anal glands.
We got a new bookshelf. It is located conveniently so that it makes a good place to drop off any mail or bills that we get and need to keep within easy reach. Unfortunately, Howie decided this bookshelf makes a good perch. He now intentionally shoves everything off the top so that he can lay down comfortably.
Anna works too hard. Someone should give her a billion dollars so that she can retire.
Bobbie told me today that Alice shoved her and shook her. I don't know if this is true or not. If it is true then Bobbie deserved it.
Goodnight people. Hugs not drugs.
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