Tuesday, August 26, 2008

A Spackel-tastic weekend

How was my weekend you ask:

well, in a word, it was "Spackle-tastic"

(read: Rori and I domesticated ourselves)

We spackled (sp?) the garage ceiling in preparation for painting and shelve put-upping



and I organized the pantry in a fit of OCD goodness (read: extreme ennui)




and, ya know... what post would be complete without a picture of food? We also scrounged around and made Crazy Fajitas (the crazy part coming via our thoughts of "what the hell else can we put in these?")

Not a very clear picture, but the recipe involved:
Fried Couscous with peppers mixed in (we still have like 8lbs of peppers left over from the cookout)
Chicken marinated in Mexican spices (read: Taco Bell seasoning)
3-cheese blend

If nothing else, I'm a pretty resourceful fat kid :-P

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

The return of "Internal Dialogue Man" (and other misanthropes)

When I was at my "former place of employment", I gradually learned that the only way to get by was to either flash a shit eating grin or bend over and take it. This, coupled with the ubiquitous summer of super hero movies, lead me to create my own badass... an alterego I called "Internal Dialogue Man"

Behold:


Yes folks, wherever there's a Volunteer Coordinator trying to impose his will on non-Volunteers Internal Dialogue Man will be there. Wherever there's a profoundly retarded friend masquerading as a normally functioning adult, Internal Dialogue Man will be there. And... wherever there's an ugly baby whose parents STILL enter it in pageants, Internal Dialogue Man will certainly be there.

And oh, was he in full effect this weekend as Rori's family and I went to the Columbus Zoo
with a friend of her's. Rori also explained that it was good for this friend to go with us because she needed to see "functional relationships" (woohoo, we've been upgraded to 'functional') Now, I do have to take into account that this friend comes from a relatively low income background and thus hasn't had the opportunity to do pretty much anything outside the N'erk area, but she was still asking questions that just made I.D. Man use all of his powers. My personal favorites were the following:

Friend : "That looks like a cross between a horse and a donkey"
Internal Dialogue Man: okay, the combination of a horse and a donkey is a MULE. Pretty sure the sign didn't say MULE on it. Secondly, mules are relatively prevalent in this area (Slate Run Farm, Louisville, etc) so why the fuck would the Columbus Zoo have them on Display?

Friend: Look at the Monkeys?
Rori: Actually those are Apes. Monkeys have tails and Apes don't. That's an easy way to tell the difference
Friend (upon seeing the Gibbons, who have no tails): OOH, look at the monkeys
Rori:
--*shakes head and turns red faced*


(asked numerous times during the day:) Friend: Are those animals alive?
IDM: no dumbass, the zoo puts nothing but dead animals in their cages. Yeesh


and, the one that takes the cake

we walk up to a giant sign that says "FOX FACED BATS" on it. Basically, the animal looks like this:

and the friend goes,
"Look at that animal, it's got the face of a dog.. or a wolf ...or something"
I.D. Man*ahem*.. OR A FOX! You illiterate fuck, it says what it looks like RIGHT THERE... ON THE SIGN, TWO FEET IN FRONT OF YOUR FACE!!!


And you'd think after we got home that Internal Dialogue Man's job would be done, but oh no, certianly not! Because idiocy never stops:
--There's the sign near the 37/70 split advertising virgins for 100$
--There's parent magazine naming my former place of employment the #1 Family Museum in the Country
--There's even the friend on facebook who put up EIGHT f**king albums from her wedding. Like anyone cares enough to look at FIVE HUNDRED and FORTY pictures from your wedding. You know what you call people who want to see 540 pictures of your wedding? Relatives... that's what. And I'm pretty sure their asses were invited. Here's an idea Buy an album, put the pictures in there, and force them upon anyone who comes to visit you.

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Grabasstic B-days, Housesitting, and Horse Shit (literally)

This weekend we held a birthday party for an ex-coworker who is turning 29 for the 4th consecutive year. Generally, I enjoy this particular person: he's genuinely nice, he'll go out of his way to help you in a crisis, and he wouldn't hurt a fly. He, however, has no semblance of intelligence whatsoever and has about as much game as the 1898 Cleveland Spiders; this is generally the reason that I have no problem with him hanging out with Rori at any given point in time. However, some things happened at his party that don't exactly put him on the best of terms with me at the present time:
#1.) If we buy you a present, don't bitch about it in front of us...even jokingly.
#2.) If you know that a girl is wearing underwear, short shorts, and TWO pairs of tights under her costume..at some point in the evening you should probably stop trying to take pictures up her dress. Furthermore, when the guy you figured out is probably her boyfriend transfers the pics on your camera to his laptop, you shouldn't comment with "did you delete that one picture" as soon as he gets back.
#3.) It's entirely possible for people to sleep in the same room, even the same bed, without something happening.
#4.) Don't be a mopey douchebag who doles out the silent treatment the next morning just because you're too much of a tard to know that people have been "technically" dating since about February.

His best friend was even worse, going so far as to grab the ass of my "not-defined-as-a-girlfriend-but-might-as-well-be" who, admittedly, looked pretty rockin' in her late-70's punk rocker outfit. I'm not really one to get jealous--unless of course the guy has a bigger dick, is better looking, or is more intelligent--but none of those are the case here so I'm not too worried. I'll just leave it at the fact that I'm not their biggest fan, and I'm certianly not going to go out of my way to make them feel liked or welcomed in my presence.

Aside from that, I've just spent most of the past week hanging out in N'erk again. Friday was spent grilling out and playing Wii Bowling with Rori's little from the Big Brothers/Big Sisters program (her little is so appreciative and fascinated by the smallest things that it's a fun experience when she's over). Saturday was the party, which was good aside from the aforementioned interactions... tolerable people from the old job stopped by and I actually managed to win a game of Apples to Apples. Sunday broght with it a nice rise & Shine breakfast at Bob Evan's with Rori's family and then we jettisoned ourselves to the Muskingum County fair where Rori's father was the Big Man on Campus. Sunday Night culminated with a rousing--and I use that term lightly-concert by Phil Dirt and the Dozers.

Finally, I'm occupying the rest of my time by housesitting for Rori; and in week that I am here, I am gradually moving things in (a fact that has Rori somewhat freaking out since she's just as committment phobic as I am) and taking breaks every few hours to play some xbox and drink some Coca-Cola with Sour Apple pucker (in a tribute to the now defunct Manzana Lift I first had in Tijuana). Anyway, here are some pictures from the party:



Tuesday, August 5, 2008

A Weekend in N'erk

Ah, another relaxing weekend spent in Newark (or Nerk as the locals call it). While I didn't get to spend much time with my host, it was still nice to get away from home and Circleville. It's just weird sometimes, still being in the same city in which you grew up. People here seem to remember you as you were portrayed in High School. No one sees me as an intellectual, just simply as "He dated my daughter" or "that's the womanizing two-sport athlete." Sure, it helps to tell yourself that all the people who remember you are no better because they're stuck in the same town,.. but you need to escape once in awhile. I'm sure everyone can relate to that.

In my abbreviated sabbatical, I occupied myself with a number of things. Most notably, I grilled out and made some "nom nom". Pictured below are small steaks covered with A1 and plated on couscous with a side of green beans and sliced potatoes dipped in beer and glazed with brown sugar. Let it be known that, when all is said and done, I'm actually a pretty good cook. Let it also be known that the Tiger Bowls are Rori's, not mine.

Rori has also gotten some fun new technology that I had the opportunity to play with, including her new Iphone 3g:
and the recent exercise game for Nintendo's next-gen console: Wii Fit, which includes Yoga, Aerobics, Balance Training and Strength Exercises. Now, after first weighing in and being told that my BMI was on the obese/overweight border (a claim that lead me to flip off the anthropomorphized Wii Fit Board), I tried my hand--or my feet rather--at a few games and found that I am far better at balance and Yoga than I am at Strength training. Seriously, who the hell though 10 reps of push-ups into Plank position was a good idea? Rori and I also have a healthy competition going to see who can hula hoop better. At the present time, she is better at one-direction hula hooping but I still have 1st place in Super Hula (which requires the user to swivel hips in BOTH directions); that's right ladies.. hips swiveling... in BOTH directions [and I'm sure if Rori is reading this right now I'm getting both a giant eye roll and a phone call in the next few seconds :-P].

The star of Wii Fit though, is the soccer game in which the weight you put on the L or R foot affects the placement of your avatar's head. From here you try to hit soccer balls. Sounds easy.. and it is, sorta, until the little bastard Wiis start kicking cleats and decapitated Pandas (subtle, Pre-Olympics political statement ? I'll let you decide). If you're good, you can get a perfect score of 555pts, If you suck.. then you can get 34pts and post it up on your personal blog... like I'm about to do: In my defense though, it's pretty freaking difficult to try and keep the screen centered while you're swaying to and fro.

video

no worries though, I consoled (no pun intended) myself by beating the shit out of Michigan on a nice HDTV :-D

Friday, August 1, 2008

More fun than actually WATCHING the Olympics

Here come the Olympics, when we are reminded of the unquenchable spirit of the athlete, the true fellowship of nations through sport—and the Spam-brained quality of most national anthems.

It's so sad when bad anthems happen to good countries. America, for one. Ours goes up and down so many octaves only certain German shepherds can hear all of it. Still, I've been not watching the Olympics for MANY a year, and I stil contend that our anthem doesn't come close to these:

Andorra. I look forward with great zeal to the day when a 350-pound Andorran shot-putter with phone booths for arms stands on the podium and sings: "I was born a princess, a maiden!" Hey, with today's medical breakthroughs, it's possible.

Ukraine. I love it because it asks so little. The first line: "Ukraine has not perished." I call that managing national expectations: "We're not dead, okay? Give us that."

Thailand. This anthem is played each day at 8 a.m. and 6 p.m. It declares, "Every inch of Thailand belongs to the Thais." Perhaps, but I bet Trump has a stake in some real estate there.

Syria. Someone must have written this one in a hurry, or bought it at a discount anthem store, because it contains this verse: "A land resplendent with brilliant suns, becoming another sky, or almost a sky." I would've loved to be inside the mind of the guy who wrote that. Let's see. We have so many suns it's like a whole 'nother sky. No, wait. Nobody's going to believe that. I'll just add, "or almost a sky." Hell, what do they expect for $9.95?

Algeria. "We have taken the noise of gunpowder as our rhythm and the sound of machine guns as our melody." This is why no one invites your band anywhere.

Sweden. Here is a national anthem that has almost nothing to do with the country it honors. It's mostly about the Nordic way of life. Swedes are like that. Once, in High school, I asked a foreign exchange student staying with my best friend J.D. what it meant. "Ze Song?" he said. "We simply chant: 'We are from Sweden, we have come a long way, and we are drunk!'"

China. The Chinese change their national anthem about every other Tuesday, but the latest, approved in 2004, talks about putting up a "new Great Wall!" If I'm Chinese, and I'm looking at the 4,500-mile one that took 19 centuries to build, I'm thinking, Look, we'll do a Good Wall, but Great? F**k that.

Australia. Aussies cannot quite decide between the stodgy, government-approved "Advance Australia Fair" or the one they really like, the folk song "Waltzing Matilda," the country's official anthem at the 1976 Montreal Olympics. It'd be like our dumping "The Star-Spangled Banner" for "Old McDonald." "Waltzing Matilda" is all about a swagman who sits under a coolibah watching his billy, then drowns himself in a billabong to avoid a squatter. And who doesn't love a story like that, provided they understand what's going on?

Russia. Another country that has gone through more national anthems than Amy Winehouse has rehabs. The latest, adopted in 2000 by order of then-president Vladimir Putin, goes like this: "Russia, our homeland, most beautiful of all nations, sing it loud or you'll farm icicles in Siberia rest of days." (Okay, I made that up.)

Mexico. Legend has it, this one was written by a poet whose fiancée locked him in a room of her parents' house and wouldn't let him out until all 10 verses were done. If ever there were a guy who needed to throw in a few "or almost a sky" lines, it was him.

Greece and Cyprus have the same anthem, which goes for 158 verses. Olympic officials dread Greeks or Cypriots winning gold. Last time it happened, three trombone players were hospitalized.

The national anthem of Spain is easy to learn. It contains no words. Don't you wish the same could be said of Imus?

And here's a cool fact: Afghanistan's anthem was banned during the reign of the Taliban. Now it's back.

Along the way, of course, we will also admire great anthems. Hate to admit it, but France's "La Marseillaise" is very good. Remember how it drowned out the Nazis in Casablanca? Then again, these are the people who decided snails were lunch.

The best, though, is Great Britain's "God Save the Queen." For catchiness it ranks only slightly behind "It's a Small World (After All)." Maybe this is why countries like Germany, Switzerland and Liechtenstein have ripped off the tune over the years, changing nothing but the lyrics. Nobody's owed any royalties, though, because to this day no one is really sure who wrote it.

They have WHAT in Circleville?

Apparently, my rural utopia has a UFO watchers club. Now, I may have missed the GIANT RAT used for protest in Chillicothe, but there's no way I can let these people get by with such craziness without trying to capture it on Video/Digital Film.

*Clicking on Picture takes you to UFO club's website*

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