Facebook Stuff

So, I joined Facebook a few weeks ago. Its...different. I'm still trying to get the hang of it. There's some sort of bulletin type thing people are doing called "25 things about me" or something like that. I wasn't going to bother with it, but then I realized I could do it and repost it here, considering I haven't posted here in a while. That's me, killing two birds with one stone. and many, many brain cells with one bottle of bourbon.


25 Useless Things About Me:


1. I love being a musician, and I think I was put on this earth to play bass.

2. This displeases my family, who had higher hopes for me.

3. Tough shit.

4. I am a voracious reader, and will read almost anything I can get my hands on. Seriously, years ago I was dating this chick, and all she had to read at her place was Cosmopolitan. Every time I had to poop, I was stuck reading Cosmo.

5. I now know "Seven Ways to Slimmer Thighs."

6. Also, "What He's Really Thinking."

7. Damn you, Cosmo!

8. I'm not sure how or when I developed a taste for bourbon, but holy shit, its delicious.

9. It also causes me minor lapses in judgment. The Boonton Police Dept. can vouch for that.

10. My favourite possession of all time is my green Modulus Quantum 5-string bass that I bought in 1993. Its a long story, but finding that bass was destiny. It changed my life. Buy me a shot sometime, and I'll tell you all about it. Buy me another few shots, and I'll tell you again, but I'll repeat myself and slur my words and lose track of what the hell I was saying. Then I'll most likely either:

a) (if you're a girl) hit on you

or

b) (if you're a guy) suggest we start a band together, then spend the rest of the night trying to come up with cool band names

11. I prefer the British spelling "favourite" as opposed to the American "favorite." It just looks classier.

12. Speaking of bands, I'm having a great time being in Father Divine! I've finally found the right group of demented musicians that I enjoy working with. Its the first time I've looked forward to gigs in years.

13. I'm so glad my sister has three healthy children. Not only does it take the pressure off of me ever having kids (my mom was bugging me to give her grandchildren) , now I get to be the cool uncle who brings them loud toys and candy, gets them riled up, and then splits, leaving my sister to clean up the mess.

14. I doubt I'll ever get married, or have kids. I'm too selfish with my time, and I love coming home to an empty, quiet house. Plus, I get to sleep around with reckless abandon.

15. When I park my car, I always make sure I leave the radio set to 91.1 (WFMU). When I park my work truck, however, I leave it set to 89.5 (WSOU). I have no idea why I do this. Do you?

16. I have somewhere around 11,000 comic books. I would have even more, but I lost somewhere around 2,500 when my house flooded during Hurricane Floyd in '99. Many tears were shed.

17. Sometimes when I can't sleep, I write up a Mental Will, deciding which of my possessions would go to different friends and family members upon my demise. I can never decide who would get my Modulus. None of you are worthy. Perhaps I'll demand to be buried with it.

18. Everybody at my job hates me for being able to bang out the daily crossword puzzle without even giving it much thought. Resentful bastards. They fear my intellect.

19. People always give me that "If you're so smart, why aren't you rich?" nonsense. Perhaps its because I'm so smart, I know that money can't make you happy. Pursuing your dreams and being true to yourself (while not harming others) is the secret to a fulfilling life.

20. That being said; I am, however, sick of being perpetually broke.

21. Even with all of its flaws, I will always love the original Star Wars trilogy. And to a lesser extent, all of the other Star Wars related stuff. I saw the first movie in the theater when I was five years old, and it blew my fucking mind. George Lucas has gotten a lot of my money over the years. That jerk.

22. I think I could be a decent actor, and have always wanted to give it a try, but I wouldn't even know how to begin. For now, I shall settle for acting like I'm not bored to fucking tears by this exercise in tedium that is "25 Things About Me."

23. I've had my heart broken three times over these many years, and that seems like enough for now.

24. I am thankful for my awesome family, and all of my rad friends, many of whom I don't get to talk to as often as I would like. Rest assured, mi amigos, you're in my thoughts.

25. I felt obligated to throw in one or two sentimental type things near the end, there. Must be the bourbon.

Further Evidence of an Unwell Mind

So, ever since I got my high-speed internet connection a few weeks ago (I know, I know, about fucking time-whatever-I've always been a bit behind the curve-eat me) I been addicted to iTunes. I know I can ILLEGALLY download music and whatnot from other sources, but iTunes is cheap and easy (reminds me of a few ex-girlfriends [except for those who may be reading this-I meant those OTHER ex-girlfriends. honest.]), and I usually don't have any problems finding what I want.

(There is my ringing endorsement of iTunes-where's my check, Apple?)

My new Big Fun Thing to do is create mix CDs for my looong drives to gigs (yes, I know how archaic that seems these days, everyone else has iPods filled with MP3s. I'm so Old School, I don't even have a CD player in my car-its a Discman plugged into my cigarette lighter, with that weird cassette tape with the wire on it. I suck.). I was looking over the playlist for one of the discs I burned recently, and I found myself a bit troubled. Here's the track listing:

1) Frank Sinatra - "Fly Me To The Moon"
2) Jerry Goldsmith - "Ave Satani" (Theme from "The Omen")
3) Jimi Hendrix - "Drifting"
4) Dr. Hook - "Sylvia's Mother"
5) Marvin Gaye - "What's Going On"
6) Patsy Cline - "Crazy"
7) Pearl Jam - "Indifference"
8) Phil Collins - "Against All Odds"
9) Liam Lynch - "United States of Whatever"
10) The Theme from "Rosemary's Baby"
11) Thin Lizzy - "Still In Love With You"
12) The Jackson 5 - "I Want You Back"
13) Audio clip from Aqua Teen Hunger Force - "I Wanna Rock Your Body ('till The Break of Dawn")
14) Lou Reed - "Perfect Day"
15) Austrian Death Machine - "Get To The Choppa"
16) Handsome Boy Modeling School - "Are You Down With It?"
17) Matt Fink - "Tubular Bells" (Theme from "The Exorcist")
18) Audio clip of Lynch and McGurk from "Home Movies"
19) MC Pee Pants - "For Da Shorteez"
20) Solomon Burke - "Cry To Me"
21) Dave Matthews Band - "Dancing Nancies"
22) Faith No More - "Absoulte Zero"
23) Keller Williams - "Get On Up"
24) Audio clip of Gir from "Invader Zim"

That's a pretty fucked up mix. Veering from Sinatra to Austrian Death Machine (which you should definitely check out-heavy, funny stuff), from The DMB to horror movie music. The thing is, I love it! There is no rhyme or reason to this track selection, but it seems to make perfect sense to me. I'm not even embarrassed to admit I love singing along to Phil Collins.

Strange things are afoot in my brain ("A foot in your brain?"), and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Now, go download some Austrian Death Machine. You'll thank me later. Hopefully, with pills. Or mouth hugs.

Strange Happenings

There's a lot of weird shit going down lately. When life tends toward stagnation (as mine does- same house for 30-odd years, same job for 15, same bad attitude and wanton tendency toward self-destruction as ever), the most minor stirring of the pot is fascinating.

Changes are afoot. Sometimes what seems (to the unwashed masses) like a step back is actually a great leap forward. Witness my great leap, and fear my ascendancy to the role of Laughing Tyrant who Rules You.

Or perhaps my descent to Guy who Seemed to Have a Shot at Being Someone who Matters.

Either way, at least I won't be bored anytime soon...

Lawnmower Man

Well it's that time of year when I have to deal with a seriously unpleasant weekly annoyance:

Mexicans.

Just kidding, mi gente-you know I loves me some Mexicans.

What I'm really talking about is mowing the lawn. I can't fucking stand mowing the lawn. I always get the sniffles from breathing in all of the stirred-up pollen and whatnot (and no, I refuse to wear a mask so as not to ingest the floaty pollen bits-that's just silly looking. Unless it's a Spider-Man mask or something equally rad and geeky. That would be cool, and have the added bonus of freaking out my neighbours. It bears further consideration...), I sweat my bollocks off, and usually contract some strain of Poison Ivy/Oak/Sumac in the bargain. Not fun. Plus, with today's gas prices it costs around $342.00 to fill the mower's tank (a slight exaggeration-for now).

Why do I even have a lawn? It's not like I have children who need a place to frolic (thank God), or a goat that needs to graze, or even a set of Lawn Darts (do they even make those anymore? I miss the all-ages, potentially FATAL "fun" of Lawn Darts) so of what purpose is grass? Sure, aesthetically speaking, it's nicer to look at than pavement. Unless it is overrun with weeds and barren in patches, as is my lawn. What can I say? I don't have much of a "green thumb." I had a "brown thumb" once, but that's a whole different story...

I envy those shore houses, with their stone yards. Pleasant, rounded little rocks of joy, with nary a blade of grass to mow. I need some of that.

So, until such time as I acquire a paving permit and turn my entire yard into a parking lot (or a skate park-skater kids have all the best drugs...), I must mow. Mow I must. Crap.

I'm currently rocking a Craftsman (powered by Briggs and Stratton) 6.25 Horsepower, Single Speed, 21" Hi-Tunnel Mulcher with Front Gear Drive. It also has a Key Start (Easy Start Performance) function, but Rugged, Manly Men pullstart their mowers.

Also, the Key Start is broken. Double crap.

The mower is self-propelled, but it goes too damn slow for my tastes, so I just push it myself, resulting in a mild cardio workout that is intense enough to annoy me, but not enough to burn off my beer gut. A lose-lose situation.

At least the mower has a Mulcher. The cool thing about The Mulcher (I capitalize because it is mighty and worthy of respect) is that I can pretty much shred anything and everything, without having to bag up the lawn leavins. And I do, indeed, shred anything and everything in my path. I pretty much adopt a "scorched earth" policy when mowing. Nothing escapes my mighty blade. I hate litter, especially in my own (admittedly unkempt) yard. In my Environmental Outrage (and lack of motivation to pick up said litter) I've run over many things better left unmolested, like newspapers, sneakers, decorative shrubbery, bottles and cans, and one time, a dead bird. I wasn't about to touch the damn thing (it could be carrying all manner of diseases, after all), and I must admit, I was curious to see what would happen when the 21" Hi-Tunnel Mulcher with Front Gear drive got its hands on the carcass. It was frightening. And glorious. A spin-art spray pattern of gore and feathers adorned my lawn, turning an ordinary yard into an abattoir.

(I may have problems.)

(In my head.)

(Head Problems.)

I just mowed the damn lawn yesterday, and happened across an empty beer can and a tennis ball. Apparently, alcoholic Wimbledon hopefuls have been frolicking amongst my shrubbery. Brothers and sisters, when will you realize that beer and tennis don't mix? Wait a minute, beer mixes with everything. My bad. Both ball and can were swiftly dispatched by my spinning blades of doom. The can shredded like so much aluminum wheat (get it?-shredded wheat?-I suck), and the ball went flying out of the side of the mower, bouncing off of my house and into the bushes. Big fun.

So yeah, I'm not a fan of mowing the lawn. I'd pay someone else to do it, but I'm broke. So it is me and my mower versus Mother Nature (and whatever foreign objects I encounter), with no quarter asked, and none given (that's me channeling the writing style of Chris Claremont, right there). At least I only have to deal with it once a week.

Unlike those damn Mexicans...

(heh)

What's my age again?

As abhorrent as I find it to use the name of a Blink-182 song as the title of my post, it is appropriate considering my behavior earlier today.

I was at work, driving the truck on a delivery (yes- I deliver pizza for a living, although I do not consider myself a "pizza guy." I prefer to call myself a "culinary transportation specialist," or perhaps even a "long-distance waiter.") when I noticed various Recyclables strewn about the road. It was a windy, blustery day, and it seems some of the eco-minded citizens of Montville Township had not properly secured their bins. There were bottles and cans of all shapes and sizes blowing about, hither and yon, across the winding streets.

Any "normal" person would try to avoid such obstacles, to preserve their tires, suspension, alignment, or what-have-you. Maybe to prevent an accident, or even just out of "common sense." I, however, am not "normal," nor am I possessed of anything even resembling "common sense."

I decided (in my Infinite Wisdom) that it would be Big Fun to see how many bottles and cans I could run over with the work truck. It is, after all, not my truck, and it is also a giant piece of shit which my boss refuses to replace with a decent vehicle. The transmission slips so badly that I know one of these days I'm going to pull out into traffic, only to have the truck slip out of gear and cause a ten-car pile-up of some sort. I'm trying to kill that truck before it kills me. So, off I drove to squish me some Recyclables.

As childish, irresponsible, and downright dangerous as "Operation: Squish 'Em All" was, the ridiculousness of the situation was compounded by my sudden and inexplicable urge to yell out quotes from the attack on The Death Star as depicted in the Greatest Movie Ever- Star Wars.
Picture if you will a thirty-five year old manchild, cackling with glee, swerving through the streets of Montville, crushing plastic bottles and aluminum cans while loudly exclaiming:

"Accelerate to attack speed!"

"This is Red 5, I'm going in!"

"Switch all power to front deflector screens!"

"Switch to targeting computer..."

"Stay on target...stay on target..."

"Just like Beggar's Canyon back home."

When an errant gust of wind blew a bottle or can out of the way of my mighty, crushing tires I would channel Darth Vader and say "The Force is strong with this one." If one happened to drift into my path, it was "I have you now!" After a particularly skillful maneuver I found myself quoting Han Solo: "Great shot kid- that was one in a million!"


It was a fun day.



What's my age again?




(Even more nerdy and frightening- as I type this, I'm listening to the soundtrack of "Revenge of The Sith.")





(Send help.)

The Perils of Being Me

So, somehow I ended up locked out of my hotel room at God only knows what hour, wearing nothing but my Batman boxer shorts.

I'm guessing I had gotten up in the night, drunk and disoriented, and instead of entering the bathroom, I exited the hotel room. Genius.

I knocked on the door, but neither Rob nor Michelle were conscious. I then decided (because I am a genius) to walk down the hall to Jefe's room to see if anyone there was awake. I was in room 1147, and Jefe's room was 1106-that's a long walk, especially if you're wearing nothing but Batman boxers.

No one answered my plaintive knocks at Jefe's room, so back I walked to my room. In nothing but Batman boxers.Luckily, this time my (again) plaintive knocking awoke Moujie, who was aghast at seeing me in nothing but Batman boxers (sorry, Moujie), but let me back into the room. Then I passed the fuck out.

Breakfast this morning consisted of a shot of brandy and a colonpin. I have issues.That's the kind of shit that only happens after a CLUTCH show.

A bit of oddness

So I was at my local CVS earlier this evening, stocking up on a few needed supplies, when something odd happened. I was at the checkout, and the lady behind me decided it was appropriate to comment on my purchases. I had (among other things) a bottle of Pepto Bismol (my tummy is a bit sour today-free drinks at The Nutty Irishman will do that to a fella) and a large container of V8 Splash Tropical Blend (because I'm all about rockin' the antioxidants and shit).

She said something to the effect of "That's quite a selection." I turned to her and said "Excuse me?" She replied "Something for the bad days, and something for the good days, huh?" (I guess she thought the V8 qualified as a "good day beverage." Little did she know I'm planning to mix it with copious amounts of vodka later this evening, making it a "very good day beverage," indeed.)

I half jokingly responded "Don't judge me, madam." I paid for my goods and as I turned to leave she wished me a Happy New Year, and I said "Right back atcha."

I don't know, maybe it's me, but I don't think you should comment on a perfect stranger's purchases. Especially when one of said purchases is meant for the express purpose of stemming the unholy tide of diarrhea currently ravaging my already overtaxed system, causing me to spend enough time in my bathroom to have counted and given names to all of the floor tiles (Smedly is my favorite).

I should've said something to Little Miss Comment on Stranger's Groceries along the lines of "Yeah- I have the squirts really bad today. It's probably from all of the crystal meth and moonshine I ingested last night while hiding that prostitute's body." Or something like that.

I blew it.

But at least after downing the whole bottle of Pepto ("Now in even more disgusting faux-cherry flavor!") I feel much better. No more mad dashes to the bathroom. Except perhaps to say hello to Smedly. He's my pal.

On the road again...

Yes, yes, yes- I got my driver's license back today! Thank you, Baby Jesus. That was a long seven months. Take it from me, kids- don't drink and drive.

Since my last license wouldn't expire until 2009, they gave me a duplicate license. Whatever. The only thing is, they reused my old picture. That's too bad, I was looking forward to a new pic, since I'm even MORE handsome now than I was then. Really. It's strange. Every day, I'm just a bit more handsome. Either that, or my eyesight is rapidly deteriorating.

Also, I checked the box for Organ Donor. Why not-what am I gonna need my parts for after I'm dead? I'm just trying to give a little something back to the world and balance out my Karma a bit. Besides, who wouldn't consider themselves blessed to receive my pretty baby blue eyes? Or whatever parts they harvest from a corpse. I'm pretty sure my liver and/or kidneys shall prove useless due to my Rock and Roll Lifestyle.

So, yeah, I CAN DRIVE NOW. The only thing is, now I have to get insurance (which I'm certain is going to cost a princely sum) and re-register my car ("I DRIVE A DODGE STRATUS!"). After that, I need new brakes, a new battery, and a general tune-up to make my car road worthy. The bullshit never ends. At least I can go back to my job as a Culinary Transportation Specialist (aka pizza delivery guy), seeing as how I use the company truck. I'm going to work mad hours to get the scratch together for my auto repairs and the impending Holidays. Fucking Holidays.

It just feels good to know I'm one major step closer to not having to bum rides to the comic book shop anymore. Ha- you thought I was going to write "bum rides to the liquor store," didn't you? The joke's on you.

The liquor store is, of course, within walking distance. As it should be.