His Cross Was Rather Bluhdee!
According to Ian, Tull will be playing some rarities this time around. How fortuitious that I've got a ticket for the show here in Madtown. Read on...
The first set features a plethora of the more acoustic works from over the years. Some familiar, some less so. Some never even played before at a theater near you!
The second set is the electric "Rock" set with, again, some material not yet played live. We have some lost delights from the Aqualung album to schedule into the shows as things progress, like Hymn 43, Slipstream and Up To Me - none of which has ever been played since the original recording in 1971.
I never thought they'd do "Hymn 43" but it somehow seems very appropriate right now with our politicians invoking their deity at every turn.
20 October, 2004
We Will Not Have an All-Volunteer Army
Work went fairly well today. Business was on the brisk side so I got the opportunity to meet some folks whom I only knew by name. Plus I got to chat a bit with Chuck, a guy with whom I worked at the DOC. Speaking of which, a case came my way which had been appended by Ben Bordelon, Chuck and my former boss. Overall, it was a pretty mellow day and I barely got started on Quicksilver. Oddly enough, they’ve decided to give us some training tomorrow. Here we are in the middle of our third week and now they decide that we need some formal direction. Gotta love the state.
The day was also nice in that I found myself in the company of blondes most of the day who were extremely easy on the eyes. A couple in the AM at Ancora followed by running into one very peripatetic hottie at work. We had a firedrill which gave me ample opportunity to glimpse my co-workers en masse. People even roughly my age are few and far between, though there is this big little baby who’s about 6’5” with long, dark hair. Christ, working my way up her legs to her honeypot would take a year or more. Fuck, starting out at any end of her going towards the honeypot would take ages. Luckily I am a patient kinda guy.
I made the mistake late in the day to pop over to the Isthmus forum. Much to my surprise, one fellow admitted that he was listening to a live rendition of The Lam Lies Down On Broadway. He was then assailed by a couple folks including Prof. Wagstaff who is, in my humble opinion, an arsenugget. And people think I’m a snob. At first I was extremely irritated but I soon mellowed out. In his honor, I’ve put on a nice Genesis gig and you can find out more by clicking on the album cover to the right.
Continuing in the musical vein, I must admit that Bill Malone’s book has gotten very interesting. It’s a bit like listening to a couple month’s worth of his radio show but, as John Madden would say, different. Each chapter takes a different element of the music and relates it to the life of Southern working class folk. Exempli gratia - a chapter on religion in country music. In it, he details the music’s appropriation of religion and how it is expressed. He also comments on the musicians’ use of it as well as the general tenor of religion amongst the people of the South. It’s a fairly quick read and it’s fun to see mention of songs with which I am familiar and find their histories and the social contexts from which they sprang or became popular. I think that, once I’m done with it, I shall continue with the music theme and read The Power of Black Music. That might get me some respect. I say this as people who’ve seen me toting Malone’s text around at work and at Ancora flash dismissive glances at both the book and me.
I’m downloading some lectures right now. One is a history of the U.S. Supreme Court, another about jazz, while the last is entitled “Creating Humans”. The latter has an amusing title but very serious subject matter, namely, method of becoming pregnant besides coitus, abortion, genetic tampering, and human life generally.
If any undecided voters and/or Republicans are reading, please go see Mistress Lola. A glace at her blog reveals that she is in need of s-e-x.
While the chili I just stirred is not my best ever, it ranks high in the heartiness category. A good douche of hot sauce and some käse and we’ll be fine.
Work went fairly well today. Business was on the brisk side so I got the opportunity to meet some folks whom I only knew by name. Plus I got to chat a bit with Chuck, a guy with whom I worked at the DOC. Speaking of which, a case came my way which had been appended by Ben Bordelon, Chuck and my former boss. Overall, it was a pretty mellow day and I barely got started on Quicksilver. Oddly enough, they’ve decided to give us some training tomorrow. Here we are in the middle of our third week and now they decide that we need some formal direction. Gotta love the state.
The day was also nice in that I found myself in the company of blondes most of the day who were extremely easy on the eyes. A couple in the AM at Ancora followed by running into one very peripatetic hottie at work. We had a firedrill which gave me ample opportunity to glimpse my co-workers en masse. People even roughly my age are few and far between, though there is this big little baby who’s about 6’5” with long, dark hair. Christ, working my way up her legs to her honeypot would take a year or more. Fuck, starting out at any end of her going towards the honeypot would take ages. Luckily I am a patient kinda guy.
I made the mistake late in the day to pop over to the Isthmus forum. Much to my surprise, one fellow admitted that he was listening to a live rendition of The Lam Lies Down On Broadway. He was then assailed by a couple folks including Prof. Wagstaff who is, in my humble opinion, an arsenugget. And people think I’m a snob. At first I was extremely irritated but I soon mellowed out. In his honor, I’ve put on a nice Genesis gig and you can find out more by clicking on the album cover to the right.
Continuing in the musical vein, I must admit that Bill Malone’s book has gotten very interesting. It’s a bit like listening to a couple month’s worth of his radio show but, as John Madden would say, different. Each chapter takes a different element of the music and relates it to the life of Southern working class folk. Exempli gratia - a chapter on religion in country music. In it, he details the music’s appropriation of religion and how it is expressed. He also comments on the musicians’ use of it as well as the general tenor of religion amongst the people of the South. It’s a fairly quick read and it’s fun to see mention of songs with which I am familiar and find their histories and the social contexts from which they sprang or became popular. I think that, once I’m done with it, I shall continue with the music theme and read The Power of Black Music. That might get me some respect. I say this as people who’ve seen me toting Malone’s text around at work and at Ancora flash dismissive glances at both the book and me.
I’m downloading some lectures right now. One is a history of the U.S. Supreme Court, another about jazz, while the last is entitled “Creating Humans”. The latter has an amusing title but very serious subject matter, namely, method of becoming pregnant besides coitus, abortion, genetic tampering, and human life generally.
If any undecided voters and/or Republicans are reading, please go see Mistress Lola. A glace at her blog reveals that she is in need of s-e-x.
While the chili I just stirred is not my best ever, it ranks high in the heartiness category. A good douche of hot sauce and some käse and we’ll be fine.
19 October, 2004
The Best in Barley Pop
I finished reading Naomi Klein's No Logo a little while ago which leaves me without an e-book. I must remember to send myself another one tonight. What to read next? Well, what to read at work next - I'm in the middle ofthe paper version of Don't Get Above Your Raisin'. I've taken to reading it before work at Ancora since Stevie is once again giving me lifts to work. And now that I'm spending my lunch hour at Ancora as well, I'm getting some quality mid-afternoon time with the book as well.
Having finished No Logo, I feel compelled to say that it was good. I'm your lefty type so you had to figure I'd enjoy it. Though, admittedly, Klein too oft repeats herself. Her writing style is easy-going but, since the subject matter is complicated at times, it comes across as being faux-intellectual. She just doesn't do a good job of breeding populism with intellectualism. Her rants against multinational corporations & governments give me the sense that she's a populist but only in the most general sense. I get the feeling that she's more at home remaining above the fray to observe with ironic detachment.
Bill Malone's tome is getting a bit repetetive. It's interesting reading, to be sure, but he hasn't really said much new in about 20 pages. I just started chapter 4 so perhaps some uncharted lands are now to be explored.
Work has been pretty uneventful. I pledged to purchase 3lbs. of cookie dough from a co-worker whose son is selling the stuff to raise jinga for the Cub Scouts or some similar organization. The white chocolate chunck/macadamia nut combo pack struck my fancy hard so I went with it.
The Tomah-bound fraulein sent me an email today. Attached were some samples of her art, one of which is a painting of a shoe and is an eerie likeness of my Chuck Taylors. She's a brave lass too as she e-mailed me from her work account which gives me her full name. Luckily I'm not the stalker type. File me under "mostly harmless".
It was a fairly lengthy e-mail and I must admit that she sounds wonderful. Not only is she an artist, but she also loves to write & read. She is in her own words, "...a very very verbal and overall wordy person." In addition, she has a good sense of humor: "...now I feel like the All Powerful Oz! I mean, all powerful ART TEACHER ARTIST!!! You can worship me if you like. :)" Soooooo, when can we fuck?
Having just finished reading about sweatshops and those trying to improve conditions in them, I find it interesting to read that the new Blackfield t-shirt is described as "High quality and ethically sourced (in other words not made in a sweat shop!)"
I am pleased to see a smattering of Wisconsin breweries fared well at this year's Great American Beer Festival. Miller won the award for Large Brewing Company of the Year. Perhaps not a big deal for those of us that try to avoid their swill but it's better than having that wretched joint in St. Louis win it.
Sprecher won Small Brewing Company of the Year. Now that you gotta like. Sprecher Amber is one of the best beers ever. Yeah, it wreaks havoc with my gullet but it doesn't make me violent like the Black Bavarian. Mmm...Black Bavarian...
What else do we have here? Get this - the gold medal for American Lager/Ale or Cream Ale goes to Miller for Red Dog. Wisconsin fairs well in the Fruit & Vegetable Beer category with New Glarus' Raspberry Tart taking the gold and Leine's Berry Weiss getting bronze. I take it that they got tired of giving the gold to New Glarus for their Belgian Cherry Ale so they chose their other fruity potable. New Glarus also got a gold for their Brown Ale in the Wood and Barrel-Aged Beer category. I swear to fuck, Dan can do no wrong.
Next up I see that bronze for best Munchner-Style Helles went to Augsburger Golden by Stevens Point Brewery. Miller grabs a silver for Henry Weinhard Amber Light, the 2nd best American -Style "Light" Amber Lager of the competition.
Oh my fuck. Old Swill was found to be the best American-Style Lager ahead of Milwaukee's Beast. That shit nearly killed me in college and not it's getting awards. Continuing, Miller High Life got the silver for American-Style Premium Lagers. What does "premium" mean here exactly? PBR is premium but Schlitz is not. Somebody tell me what the difference is here.
Ooh! Sprecher's Oktoberfest was the #1 German-Style Märzen/Oktoberfest. Leine's Creamy Dark was the bronzed American-Style Dark Lager. Sprecher's Mind Block was bronzed in the Bock category. We Cheeseheads had a virtual lock in the German-Style Strong Bock category with Capital's Autumnal Fire taking the gold and New Glarus' Eisbock the bronze.
Considering that the beer at the Angelic has never been all that impressive to me, I'm surprised that they got a bronze in the American-Style Amber/Red Ale category with its Arch Amber. Finally, Sprecher rounds out the list with a gold for its Scotch Ale in the Strong Scotch Ale category.
Hmmm. I'm thirsty.
I finished reading Naomi Klein's No Logo a little while ago which leaves me without an e-book. I must remember to send myself another one tonight. What to read next? Well, what to read at work next - I'm in the middle ofthe paper version of Don't Get Above Your Raisin'. I've taken to reading it before work at Ancora since Stevie is once again giving me lifts to work. And now that I'm spending my lunch hour at Ancora as well, I'm getting some quality mid-afternoon time with the book as well.
Having finished No Logo, I feel compelled to say that it was good. I'm your lefty type so you had to figure I'd enjoy it. Though, admittedly, Klein too oft repeats herself. Her writing style is easy-going but, since the subject matter is complicated at times, it comes across as being faux-intellectual. She just doesn't do a good job of breeding populism with intellectualism. Her rants against multinational corporations & governments give me the sense that she's a populist but only in the most general sense. I get the feeling that she's more at home remaining above the fray to observe with ironic detachment.
Bill Malone's tome is getting a bit repetetive. It's interesting reading, to be sure, but he hasn't really said much new in about 20 pages. I just started chapter 4 so perhaps some uncharted lands are now to be explored.
Work has been pretty uneventful. I pledged to purchase 3lbs. of cookie dough from a co-worker whose son is selling the stuff to raise jinga for the Cub Scouts or some similar organization. The white chocolate chunck/macadamia nut combo pack struck my fancy hard so I went with it.
The Tomah-bound fraulein sent me an email today. Attached were some samples of her art, one of which is a painting of a shoe and is an eerie likeness of my Chuck Taylors. She's a brave lass too as she e-mailed me from her work account which gives me her full name. Luckily I'm not the stalker type. File me under "mostly harmless".
It was a fairly lengthy e-mail and I must admit that she sounds wonderful. Not only is she an artist, but she also loves to write & read. She is in her own words, "...a very very verbal and overall wordy person." In addition, she has a good sense of humor: "...now I feel like the All Powerful Oz! I mean, all powerful ART TEACHER ARTIST!!! You can worship me if you like. :)" Soooooo, when can we fuck?
Having just finished reading about sweatshops and those trying to improve conditions in them, I find it interesting to read that the new Blackfield t-shirt is described as "High quality and ethically sourced (in other words not made in a sweat shop!)"
I am pleased to see a smattering of Wisconsin breweries fared well at this year's Great American Beer Festival. Miller won the award for Large Brewing Company of the Year. Perhaps not a big deal for those of us that try to avoid their swill but it's better than having that wretched joint in St. Louis win it.
Sprecher won Small Brewing Company of the Year. Now that you gotta like. Sprecher Amber is one of the best beers ever. Yeah, it wreaks havoc with my gullet but it doesn't make me violent like the Black Bavarian. Mmm...Black Bavarian...
What else do we have here? Get this - the gold medal for American Lager/Ale or Cream Ale goes to Miller for Red Dog. Wisconsin fairs well in the Fruit & Vegetable Beer category with New Glarus' Raspberry Tart taking the gold and Leine's Berry Weiss getting bronze. I take it that they got tired of giving the gold to New Glarus for their Belgian Cherry Ale so they chose their other fruity potable. New Glarus also got a gold for their Brown Ale in the Wood and Barrel-Aged Beer category. I swear to fuck, Dan can do no wrong.
Next up I see that bronze for best Munchner-Style Helles went to Augsburger Golden by Stevens Point Brewery. Miller grabs a silver for Henry Weinhard Amber Light, the 2nd best American -Style "Light" Amber Lager of the competition.
Oh my fuck. Old Swill was found to be the best American-Style Lager ahead of Milwaukee's Beast. That shit nearly killed me in college and not it's getting awards. Continuing, Miller High Life got the silver for American-Style Premium Lagers. What does "premium" mean here exactly? PBR is premium but Schlitz is not. Somebody tell me what the difference is here.
Ooh! Sprecher's Oktoberfest was the #1 German-Style Märzen/Oktoberfest. Leine's Creamy Dark was the bronzed American-Style Dark Lager. Sprecher's Mind Block was bronzed in the Bock category. We Cheeseheads had a virtual lock in the German-Style Strong Bock category with Capital's Autumnal Fire taking the gold and New Glarus' Eisbock the bronze.
Considering that the beer at the Angelic has never been all that impressive to me, I'm surprised that they got a bronze in the American-Style Amber/Red Ale category with its Arch Amber. Finally, Sprecher rounds out the list with a gold for its Scotch Ale in the Strong Scotch Ale category.
Hmmm. I'm thirsty.
18 October, 2004
I Need A Horse & Carriage
Did I mention my car’s tranny took another digger? Fuck me. But I did get it back in the shop today. Casey seemed rather blithe about the whole thing. But I suppose he’s seen it all before and I probably act the same way when I’m at a customer’s house whose computer is dead in the water.
Pete picked me up from the shop and we went out to Portage to drop off his mom’s car. Being the nice person Sharon is, she bought us dinner. A culinary caveat – don’t get spaghetti at the Tamarack. The pasta was overcooked, the sauce out of a can, and the waitress neglected to bring me hot sauce. She did have a nice ass, though.
I comment upon her poop chute as I’m extremely frisky tonight. Have been all day, curiously enough. It started early when I stopped in at CZ for the first time in a while and said hello to Miss Jolene. This was a calculated maneuver. Being hornier than a two-peckered goat in a fucking bee, I decided to gaze up on lovely visage adorned with long hair. I nearly pitched a tent watching her merely pour a cup of java. We chatted a bit before an intruder entered demanding coffee and I took off. On the other hand, there’s a method to the madness of getting to know your barista. Not only do they know what you drink and how you like it prepared, but they also give you a genuine smile when they greet you. The trend continued later in the morning at Ancora. The helpful and friendly barista there, about whom I’ve written previously, flashed a nice smile and engaged me in conversation. It makes us guys feel special when schöne Frauen smile at us and engage us in light banter. I suspect it also makes us give larger tips. The barista asked if I had seen Michael Moore over the weekend – I hadn’t. What gave it away that I was a lefty? I returned that at lunch in search of coffee and refuge from my cubicle where I could read some more of Bill Malone’s book. Just to get away from there is a relief of Biblical proportions. The really hot blonde was there. I set my book on the counter and she looked at it. No doubt she thinks me a total weenie.
On the bright side, I got a reply from the voluptuous womyn above. (The cropping is of her doing.) Unfortunately she hails from Tomah. Either I did a fantastic job of portraying charisma in my personals ad or the land of Tomah is bereft of remotely interesting men. I’m inclined to the latter. Still, if I can get a piece of action and a working car, I’ll be driving up there faster than a deacon in a whorehouse. And she’s an art teacher so the possibilities for making the beast on two backs in manners creative are many.
I also received a reply today from a fraulein I’ve been corresponding with at a singles site. She indicated that she is a former assistant DA. Oh fuck. She’ll lay down some oral grandiloquence and have me circumlocuting in no time.
Did I mention my car’s tranny took another digger? Fuck me. But I did get it back in the shop today. Casey seemed rather blithe about the whole thing. But I suppose he’s seen it all before and I probably act the same way when I’m at a customer’s house whose computer is dead in the water.
Pete picked me up from the shop and we went out to Portage to drop off his mom’s car. Being the nice person Sharon is, she bought us dinner. A culinary caveat – don’t get spaghetti at the Tamarack. The pasta was overcooked, the sauce out of a can, and the waitress neglected to bring me hot sauce. She did have a nice ass, though.
I comment upon her poop chute as I’m extremely frisky tonight. Have been all day, curiously enough. It started early when I stopped in at CZ for the first time in a while and said hello to Miss Jolene. This was a calculated maneuver. Being hornier than a two-peckered goat in a fucking bee, I decided to gaze up on lovely visage adorned with long hair. I nearly pitched a tent watching her merely pour a cup of java. We chatted a bit before an intruder entered demanding coffee and I took off. On the other hand, there’s a method to the madness of getting to know your barista. Not only do they know what you drink and how you like it prepared, but they also give you a genuine smile when they greet you. The trend continued later in the morning at Ancora. The helpful and friendly barista there, about whom I’ve written previously, flashed a nice smile and engaged me in conversation. It makes us guys feel special when schöne Frauen smile at us and engage us in light banter. I suspect it also makes us give larger tips. The barista asked if I had seen Michael Moore over the weekend – I hadn’t. What gave it away that I was a lefty? I returned that at lunch in search of coffee and refuge from my cubicle where I could read some more of Bill Malone’s book. Just to get away from there is a relief of Biblical proportions. The really hot blonde was there. I set my book on the counter and she looked at it. No doubt she thinks me a total weenie.
On the bright side, I got a reply from the voluptuous womyn above. (The cropping is of her doing.) Unfortunately she hails from Tomah. Either I did a fantastic job of portraying charisma in my personals ad or the land of Tomah is bereft of remotely interesting men. I’m inclined to the latter. Still, if I can get a piece of action and a working car, I’ll be driving up there faster than a deacon in a whorehouse. And she’s an art teacher so the possibilities for making the beast on two backs in manners creative are many.
I also received a reply today from a fraulein I’ve been corresponding with at a singles site. She indicated that she is a former assistant DA. Oh fuck. She’ll lay down some oral grandiloquence and have me circumlocuting in no time.
15 October, 2004
14 October, 2004
Headphones Await
Have I mentioned that my laptop is fucked up after having installed the latest Microsoft patches for Internet Exploder? I don't even use the fucking thing except to download patches! Otherwise I'm Firefox all the way. Unfortunately the Winders Update uses Active X so you've gotta use IE. So now explorer.exe keeps faulting. So it ends and restarts constantly. And you can't open various programs and it's just fucked. I really don't wanna wipe it but it looks like I've gotta. None of the god damned hotfixes appear in Add/ Remove Programs. Ugh!
On an even worse note, my friend Roy has moved back to Norway after 14+ years in exile here in the States. To top things off, he's quite ill too. I'm a bit worried as I don't know all the details yet. It's amusing in the saddest way to read his words about not being able to afford health care in this country. A) It must be fairly serious and B) it says a lot about the priorities in this country.
It looks like my cruise on an aircraft carrier is gonna fall through due to my inability to get paperwork in on time. I'm really mad at myself for this and don't wanna talk about it. At least I'll get the chance to go to the atheist conference and meet Steven Pinker.
I read that 3M has announced they've made aluminum that is 50% transparent. When they get it completely transparent, someone has gotta make a car out of it. The engine too so you can see all the combustion. Wouldn't be a great choice for those wanting to fuck in the back seat, though. Well, unless you happen to be an exhibitionist. I got my absentee ballot today even though it looks like I won't need it. Fuck it, I'll send it in anyway. The sooner Bushy is out of office, the sooner I'll feel less embarrassed about having a philistine running this country. Dred Scott. Please.
Today I received a copy of some erotica based on an incident in which I was involved. To wit:
His cock is so hard, I'm having difficulty keeping it in my mouth as he thrusts his hips toward me, fucking my face. What started out as a slow leisurely exercise has turned into a very energetic activity. My body is in an altered state, breath coming heavy, nipples hard, pussy wet. I can't seem to get enough of him, the taste and smell filling my head. I'm not really hearing his moans and sighs, more just the rush of blood in my head, so it takes me by surprise when I feel his cock begin to pulse in my mouth. In the next moment I am filled with his cum, moaning as it floods my mouth. I swallow and he fills my mouth again. I find myself smiling around the cock still in my mouth, swallowing and licking him clean as he basks in his afterglow. I look up at him with big earnest eyes.
"I am so wet."
He doesn't say anything, but pulls me up onto the couch, pulling the t-shirt off me...
I'm curious to know what happens next as I can't remember. But I'm sure it'll be good.
I've gotta stop air drumming before someone sees me. It's embarrassing enough to have someone see me doing this much less seeing that I do it as gracefully as a one-legged cat trying to bury a turd in a frozen pond. You see, I learned to air drum from Phil Collins as a kid. But I didn't know that he was left-handed so I play the hi-hat & snare like a righty but my tom fills are lefty.
Time to listen to some Doctor Who and fall into the arms of Morpheus.
Have I mentioned that my laptop is fucked up after having installed the latest Microsoft patches for Internet Exploder? I don't even use the fucking thing except to download patches! Otherwise I'm Firefox all the way. Unfortunately the Winders Update uses Active X so you've gotta use IE. So now explorer.exe keeps faulting. So it ends and restarts constantly. And you can't open various programs and it's just fucked. I really don't wanna wipe it but it looks like I've gotta. None of the god damned hotfixes appear in Add/ Remove Programs. Ugh!
On an even worse note, my friend Roy has moved back to Norway after 14+ years in exile here in the States. To top things off, he's quite ill too. I'm a bit worried as I don't know all the details yet. It's amusing in the saddest way to read his words about not being able to afford health care in this country. A) It must be fairly serious and B) it says a lot about the priorities in this country.
It looks like my cruise on an aircraft carrier is gonna fall through due to my inability to get paperwork in on time. I'm really mad at myself for this and don't wanna talk about it. At least I'll get the chance to go to the atheist conference and meet Steven Pinker.
I read that 3M has announced they've made aluminum that is 50% transparent. When they get it completely transparent, someone has gotta make a car out of it. The engine too so you can see all the combustion. Wouldn't be a great choice for those wanting to fuck in the back seat, though. Well, unless you happen to be an exhibitionist. I got my absentee ballot today even though it looks like I won't need it. Fuck it, I'll send it in anyway. The sooner Bushy is out of office, the sooner I'll feel less embarrassed about having a philistine running this country. Dred Scott. Please.
Today I received a copy of some erotica based on an incident in which I was involved. To wit:
His cock is so hard, I'm having difficulty keeping it in my mouth as he thrusts his hips toward me, fucking my face. What started out as a slow leisurely exercise has turned into a very energetic activity. My body is in an altered state, breath coming heavy, nipples hard, pussy wet. I can't seem to get enough of him, the taste and smell filling my head. I'm not really hearing his moans and sighs, more just the rush of blood in my head, so it takes me by surprise when I feel his cock begin to pulse in my mouth. In the next moment I am filled with his cum, moaning as it floods my mouth. I swallow and he fills my mouth again. I find myself smiling around the cock still in my mouth, swallowing and licking him clean as he basks in his afterglow. I look up at him with big earnest eyes.
"I am so wet."
He doesn't say anything, but pulls me up onto the couch, pulling the t-shirt off me...
I'm curious to know what happens next as I can't remember. But I'm sure it'll be good.
I've gotta stop air drumming before someone sees me. It's embarrassing enough to have someone see me doing this much less seeing that I do it as gracefully as a one-legged cat trying to bury a turd in a frozen pond. You see, I learned to air drum from Phil Collins as a kid. But I didn't know that he was left-handed so I play the hi-hat & snare like a righty but my tom fills are lefty.
Time to listen to some Doctor Who and fall into the arms of Morpheus.
La La La
Today slowly grinds to a close...
It hasn't been bad. I've taken to reading my e-book of Naomi Klein's No Logo during slow periods which have been frequent today. On the bright side, I've gotten on the good side of a barista at Ancora and furthered my communications with a fraulein I "met" at a singles site. After exchanging commentary and answering each other's questions, I was finally able to see her picture - and I like what I see. Long dark hair...mmm...Perhaps best of all she chose the following from a list of "must-haves" for her mate:
"I must have someone who is mature and experienced as a potential sexual partner and is able to express himself/herself freely."
Oh fuck, I'll express myself freely. I'll freely express my desire to have her on all fours so I can yank on her mane while roger her roundly from behind. She's read my answers to her queries, she's seen my pictures and she's still onboard. So far, so good. I await a witty email from her now.
The barista seems really nice. You've gotta get in good with those people because they take care of all your caffeine needs. Don't fuck with that shit, man. If you piss them off, they'll spit in your coffee or, even worse, give you decaf. Anyway, this woman noticed the Darwin button on my bag's strap this morning and asked if I had read a recent New York Times' article on the subject of the teaching of creation "science" in public schools. And then this afternoon I ran into her on the Square as I was walking back here. She smiled and waved as I greeted "The coffee Lady". In fact, she seemed overly excited considering that I've only been a regular customer for less than 2 weeks and had our first thingy resembling a conversation this morning. Perhaps she is afflicted with an over-abundance of mirth. But that would be a good thing.
Today slowly grinds to a close...
It hasn't been bad. I've taken to reading my e-book of Naomi Klein's No Logo during slow periods which have been frequent today. On the bright side, I've gotten on the good side of a barista at Ancora and furthered my communications with a fraulein I "met" at a singles site. After exchanging commentary and answering each other's questions, I was finally able to see her picture - and I like what I see. Long dark hair...mmm...Perhaps best of all she chose the following from a list of "must-haves" for her mate:
"I must have someone who is mature and experienced as a potential sexual partner and is able to express himself/herself freely."
Oh fuck, I'll express myself freely. I'll freely express my desire to have her on all fours so I can yank on her mane while roger her roundly from behind. She's read my answers to her queries, she's seen my pictures and she's still onboard. So far, so good. I await a witty email from her now.
The barista seems really nice. You've gotta get in good with those people because they take care of all your caffeine needs. Don't fuck with that shit, man. If you piss them off, they'll spit in your coffee or, even worse, give you decaf. Anyway, this woman noticed the Darwin button on my bag's strap this morning and asked if I had read a recent New York Times' article on the subject of the teaching of creation "science" in public schools. And then this afternoon I ran into her on the Square as I was walking back here. She smiled and waved as I greeted "The coffee Lady". In fact, she seemed overly excited considering that I've only been a regular customer for less than 2 weeks and had our first thingy resembling a conversation this morning. Perhaps she is afflicted with an over-abundance of mirth. But that would be a good thing.
13 October, 2004
Son Volt in the Studio
As most of you know, the Son Volt recording session began yesterday in St. Louis. The session will get started each day at about 3:00 pm (however, today may be earlier since they are just getting started – should be on at around 2:00 pm CST) and should last until about midnight each evening. The final day of recording is October 25th. You can view the sessions at www.jayfarrar.net/webcam. The line-up for the current recording session includes Jay, Brad Rice (guitar), Andrew Duplantis (bass), and Dave Bryson (drums). John Agnello is engineering the session. Eric Heywood (pedal steel) will be available for recording in December. As I mentioned in an earlier email, Son Volt is not currently affiliated with a label and should be on the road in early 2005.
As most of you know, the Son Volt recording session began yesterday in St. Louis. The session will get started each day at about 3:00 pm (however, today may be earlier since they are just getting started – should be on at around 2:00 pm CST) and should last until about midnight each evening. The final day of recording is October 25th. You can view the sessions at www.jayfarrar.net/webcam. The line-up for the current recording session includes Jay, Brad Rice (guitar), Andrew Duplantis (bass), and Dave Bryson (drums). John Agnello is engineering the session. Eric Heywood (pedal steel) will be available for recording in December. As I mentioned in an earlier email, Son Volt is not currently affiliated with a label and should be on the road in early 2005.
More Idiocy
I’ve been working on finding a fraulein at a singles site. I’m working on a couple right now via the site’s communication process. I’m considering my tenuous ties with one as she just isn’t that good-looking. But she looks to be fuckable. This other one is being coy and not giving me a peek at the goods yet. She is short which is a plus in the bedroom, in certain ways.
I swear to fuck, Bushy has a prompter. While Kerry was addressing a question on health card, Dubya was looking off to his left intently and then writing something down and then looking off to that same spot and then writing again. WTF?
I’ve been working on finding a fraulein at a singles site. I’m working on a couple right now via the site’s communication process. I’m considering my tenuous ties with one as she just isn’t that good-looking. But she looks to be fuckable. This other one is being coy and not giving me a peek at the goods yet. She is short which is a plus in the bedroom, in certain ways.
I swear to fuck, Bushy has a prompter. While Kerry was addressing a question on health card, Dubya was looking off to his left intently and then writing something down and then looking off to that same spot and then writing again. WTF?
Yelling at the Idiots on the Idiot Box
Oh fuck! I thought Kerry was gonna let Bush get away with that fiscal responsibility line. I swore I wouldn’t vote for him if he didn’t. But he didn’t call him on the Pay-Go bullshit. Dubya wants to give money to people to get an education to get a different job. We pay and Bush goes and spends it.
Holden voice: Saaaame thing.
I just love how Bush struggles to find the big words his trainers told him to use. Like “litany”.
Kerry’s got to refute these spurious claims about him voting to raise taxes 98 times.
Oh yes! Kerry doesn’t duck the “Is homosexuality a choice?” question. Still, I’m repulsed by this whole “God created blah blah blah” thing.
Oh fuck! I thought Kerry was gonna let Bush get away with that fiscal responsibility line. I swore I wouldn’t vote for him if he didn’t. But he didn’t call him on the Pay-Go bullshit. Dubya wants to give money to people to get an education to get a different job. We pay and Bush goes and spends it.
Holden voice: Saaaame thing.
I just love how Bush struggles to find the big words his trainers told him to use. Like “litany”.
Kerry’s got to refute these spurious claims about him voting to raise taxes 98 times.
Oh yes! Kerry doesn’t duck the “Is homosexuality a choice?” question. Still, I’m repulsed by this whole “God created blah blah blah” thing.
Blondage
The two primary things on my mind this morning are as follows:
1) blondes
2) The song "Leper Madonna" by Beatallica.
The former is obvious while the latter, not so much. I downloaded a Phil Collins show a couple days ago and finally got around to listening to it last night. The penultimate song of the show is a cover of "Lady Madonna" and, for some reason, it inspired my grey matter to fixate on the Beatallica song. And so it's been playing in my head since last night.
This morning started off oddly and I fear that it may be a portent of an even odder, if not worse, day to come. From what I can recall, my alarm went off at its usual antelucan hour. Groggily I hit the snooze button. I awaken again but not to the alarm. The time is 5:43 and there's the dot indicating that the alarm is active. How queer. But I need to get motivated regardless of the predispositions of any electronic devices. Going downstairs to burn a rope, I find that Stevie isn't up. Normally he is brewing coffee a bit after 5. I checked the bus schedule and then showered. While I was dressing, Stevie ran into the bathroom. It seemed that everyone was sleeping in a bit this Wednesday morning.
Since I start work later than he, I wasn't worried about being late and I arrived at Ancora perhaps only a minute or two later than normal. Much to my surprise, I was greeted by the visages of two young, nubile, and very attractive frauleins who were very nice and talkative as well. They were amused when I asked for "Twenty ounces of your finest Fireside blend." I then proceeded to do a spot of reading before moseying over to 1WW.
I finished the last several pages of a chapter which concerned Proust and Freud. While there is a certain visceral thrill reading about the sexual proclivities of famous people, Ackerman seems all-too willing to psycholanalyze them. She assumes that the reader subscribe to various pop-psychology tenets in her explanations, which I find disturbing. Rather than simply informing the reader of Proust's view on love, Ackerman feels compelled to sift through his childhood, especially his relationship to his mother. From this, she draws various conclusions which we are to accept. Here's an example of her reasoning:
a) Proust lived a very hermetic life.
b) Proust and his mother had a very close relationship - almost too close.
Ergo his lifestyle was the result of his relationship with mommy.
She then proceeds to analyze the guy, pointing out how he tried to find this or that in womyn to account for this or that aspect of his relationship with his mother. Blah. Stop with the pop psychology! Either she sees the Oedipal Complex at work everywhere or she's setting us up for something that comes later in the book.
Complaints aside, it was still pretty interesting reading. And I think the parts about Proust's view of love and how it mediates our relationships with nature and other human beings got to me. As I was walking down Main Street, I felt very happy, very connected in some odd way. (Sorry, no thoughts about my mother.) I met the glance of a beautiful blonde who had big blue eye with one of my own. It was one of those moments when eye contact seems to last an hour when it only lasts a fraction of a second.
Now, whether I felt this way because I'd read about love or because I'm just frisky is something I'll leave to the experts.
The two primary things on my mind this morning are as follows:
1) blondes
2) The song "Leper Madonna" by Beatallica.
The former is obvious while the latter, not so much. I downloaded a Phil Collins show a couple days ago and finally got around to listening to it last night. The penultimate song of the show is a cover of "Lady Madonna" and, for some reason, it inspired my grey matter to fixate on the Beatallica song. And so it's been playing in my head since last night.
This morning started off oddly and I fear that it may be a portent of an even odder, if not worse, day to come. From what I can recall, my alarm went off at its usual antelucan hour. Groggily I hit the snooze button. I awaken again but not to the alarm. The time is 5:43 and there's the dot indicating that the alarm is active. How queer. But I need to get motivated regardless of the predispositions of any electronic devices. Going downstairs to burn a rope, I find that Stevie isn't up. Normally he is brewing coffee a bit after 5. I checked the bus schedule and then showered. While I was dressing, Stevie ran into the bathroom. It seemed that everyone was sleeping in a bit this Wednesday morning.
Since I start work later than he, I wasn't worried about being late and I arrived at Ancora perhaps only a minute or two later than normal. Much to my surprise, I was greeted by the visages of two young, nubile, and very attractive frauleins who were very nice and talkative as well. They were amused when I asked for "Twenty ounces of your finest Fireside blend." I then proceeded to do a spot of reading before moseying over to 1WW.
I finished the last several pages of a chapter which concerned Proust and Freud. While there is a certain visceral thrill reading about the sexual proclivities of famous people, Ackerman seems all-too willing to psycholanalyze them. She assumes that the reader subscribe to various pop-psychology tenets in her explanations, which I find disturbing. Rather than simply informing the reader of Proust's view on love, Ackerman feels compelled to sift through his childhood, especially his relationship to his mother. From this, she draws various conclusions which we are to accept. Here's an example of her reasoning:
a) Proust lived a very hermetic life.
b) Proust and his mother had a very close relationship - almost too close.
Ergo his lifestyle was the result of his relationship with mommy.
She then proceeds to analyze the guy, pointing out how he tried to find this or that in womyn to account for this or that aspect of his relationship with his mother. Blah. Stop with the pop psychology! Either she sees the Oedipal Complex at work everywhere or she's setting us up for something that comes later in the book.
Complaints aside, it was still pretty interesting reading. And I think the parts about Proust's view of love and how it mediates our relationships with nature and other human beings got to me. As I was walking down Main Street, I felt very happy, very connected in some odd way. (Sorry, no thoughts about my mother.) I met the glance of a beautiful blonde who had big blue eye with one of my own. It was one of those moments when eye contact seems to last an hour when it only lasts a fraction of a second.
Now, whether I felt this way because I'd read about love or because I'm just frisky is something I'll leave to the experts.
11 October, 2004
I Got Travelin' On My Mind
It's Monday morning and I'm here at work. Been here 8 minutes and already I'm bored fecal matterless. Unsurprisingly, there are no new cases to delve into. I have no voice mail. There were some e-mails but they consisted of notices that people would be out today, a request for my new phone #, and a couple atta boys forwarded on to us by the supervisor. I've gotten the things I need to mail ready for the post and checked my primary e-mail accounts. We are (theoretically) limited to about 15 minutes/day of Internet usage so I don't wanna just start surfing. And burying my nose in a book doesn't seem prudent. While I had planned to e-mail an e-book to myself, I completely spaced on this yesterday and now I'm suffering for it.
Not only is this boring but enormously frustrating. I'd rather be doing work - even just piddly busy-work - than this.
Maybe I'll feel better after my first paycheck. This gig has been all downhill. First the contract was for a year and then it became 6 months. First I was told that I'd be made an offer by my contracting company to be hired by them and thusly being rescued from Contractordom. Then I was told, after I had started here,
that this was still being considered. I've heard hide nor hair about this. There's this feeling in my gut that a major snafu will arise somehow, somewhere, sometime soon.
Alrighty, enough bitching about work. What next? This morning, Stevie and I contrasted the hotties at Faux News with those at CNN. Slow news day. On the way in, he told me that he'd heard that an African woman had won a Nobel Prize and proceed to accuse the White Man of having created AIDS to keep the Black Man down.
To be fair, I shall have to actually read an article about this rather than trusting a millionth hand tale of it but, somehow, I believe that the woman holds these warped views.
Speaking of warped views, I rented the super-deluxe-mega-expanded verison of JFK over the weekend to check out the multimedia bonus material. There was a short documentary on the materials made public by the Feds after the brouhaha surrounding the film. While very interesting, it was too short. While it brought up some interesting connections and pushed a couple things out from the shadows, there was too little context and no attempt to connect the dots to a larger picture. What were the implications? Plus I'd like to have known exactly what was released aside from the smattering of documents shown. And what was released that bolstered the Warren Commission's findings? To top things off, there was no online material as promised. Excepting ads, of course.
I had no idea that a county office would be closed today, presumably because it's Columbus Day. So there's a printing issue I can't address until tomorrow...
It's Monday morning and I'm here at work. Been here 8 minutes and already I'm bored fecal matterless. Unsurprisingly, there are no new cases to delve into. I have no voice mail. There were some e-mails but they consisted of notices that people would be out today, a request for my new phone #, and a couple atta boys forwarded on to us by the supervisor. I've gotten the things I need to mail ready for the post and checked my primary e-mail accounts. We are (theoretically) limited to about 15 minutes/day of Internet usage so I don't wanna just start surfing. And burying my nose in a book doesn't seem prudent. While I had planned to e-mail an e-book to myself, I completely spaced on this yesterday and now I'm suffering for it.
Not only is this boring but enormously frustrating. I'd rather be doing work - even just piddly busy-work - than this.
Maybe I'll feel better after my first paycheck. This gig has been all downhill. First the contract was for a year and then it became 6 months. First I was told that I'd be made an offer by my contracting company to be hired by them and thusly being rescued from Contractordom. Then I was told, after I had started here,
that this was still being considered. I've heard hide nor hair about this. There's this feeling in my gut that a major snafu will arise somehow, somewhere, sometime soon.
Alrighty, enough bitching about work. What next? This morning, Stevie and I contrasted the hotties at Faux News with those at CNN. Slow news day. On the way in, he told me that he'd heard that an African woman had won a Nobel Prize and proceed to accuse the White Man of having created AIDS to keep the Black Man down.
To be fair, I shall have to actually read an article about this rather than trusting a millionth hand tale of it but, somehow, I believe that the woman holds these warped views.
Speaking of warped views, I rented the super-deluxe-mega-expanded verison of JFK over the weekend to check out the multimedia bonus material. There was a short documentary on the materials made public by the Feds after the brouhaha surrounding the film. While very interesting, it was too short. While it brought up some interesting connections and pushed a couple things out from the shadows, there was too little context and no attempt to connect the dots to a larger picture. What were the implications? Plus I'd like to have known exactly what was released aside from the smattering of documents shown. And what was released that bolstered the Warren Commission's findings? To top things off, there was no online material as promised. Excepting ads, of course.
I had no idea that a county office would be closed today, presumably because it's Columbus Day. So there's a printing issue I can't address until tomorrow...
10 October, 2004
Some TV Worth Watching
Frontline will be having a little peek at those two politicos running for the Presidency.
Frontline will be having a little peek at those two politicos running for the Presidency.
Weekends Seem To Mean So Much
I’m not looking forward to returning to work tomorrow. There will be some catching up to do, no doubt, but otherwise back to the boredom. Welcome to the state indeed.
My weekend was fine. Watched the debate on Friday with Stevie which made me ponder if Dubya knows anything about our country’s history or ever actually read any of our state papers. I mean, come on, he pulls Dred Scott out of his ass and had the gall to say that he and his Faith Based Initiatives are in strict adherence to the Constitution. Kerry, being the great joiner-iner that he is, said that he too supported such egregious violations of the First Amendment. Oh glory be! Both of you guys can take your respective religions and shove them up your respective assholes. Kerry becomes less attractive as a President all the time. I think William Saletan had a good takeon the whole sordid affair.
I got laid on Saturday. Twice, in fact, so, considering I didn’t win the lottery, they were the most important events of the day. But also noteworthy is the fact that I finished that book on war. It was good but could have been great had the author not been so repetitive repetitive. He had a boatload of good anecdotes but he treaded the same ground in each chapter. We’ll see how this A Natural History of Love goes. It came highly recommended by my bro’s roommate, Andy. It also came to me by way of him. I finished listening to Doctor Who: The Creed of the Kromon and will start The Natural History of Fear tonight and am really looking forward to it. Instead of a brief plot outline, the makers give this:
IT IS A CRIMINAL OFFENCE TO COPY OR ATTEMPT TO COPY ANY PERSONALITY OR MEMORY-RELATED ARTICLE SHOWN OR DISPLAYED IN THIS PUBLIC THEATRE, INCLUDING THIS WARNING. PUNISHMENT OR CONVICTION IS AN UNLIMITED REDUCTION OF AUTHORISED OVERTIME HOURS AND TOTAL PERSONALITY REVISION. YOU ARE NOT PERMITTED TO BRING ANY JUKEBOX OR RECORDING EQUIPMENT INTO THIS PUBLIC THEATRE. THIS WILL BE TREATED AS AN ATTEMPT TO BREACH COPYRIGHT. ANY PERSON DOING SO CAN BE EJECTED AND THE EDITOR MAY CONFISCATE SUCH ARTICLES. WE ASK THE PUBLIC TO BE VIGILANT AGAINST ANY SUCH ACTIVITY AND REPORT ANY MATTERS AROUSING SUSPICION TO THEIR LOCAL CONSCIENCE. THANK YOU.
Public Warning
Faction Against Character Theft
Also included was a comment from the director:
”When Paul McGann turned up on his first day (we recorded this one first), he announced that this was one of the best scripts he'd ever read - not just Who-wise, but of all. He liked the political touches and said when we'd finished 'more like this, please'."
The old blog has a new look. I snagged it from somewhere that probably deserves credit but I can’t remember from whence it came. It was called “Autumn Something-Or-Other” so I thought it appropriate. It came pre-hoolied with a column for links’n’such so I’ve taken advantage of it. And I even have a link for folks to email me which hasn’t been the case for a few months. I suppose it’s not a big deal as I’ve only ever had one (1) person email me. This person wanted to know if I was a hippie. Oh, here it is in all it’s semi-literated Internet shorthand glory:
”hey where pine river i saw it on ur blogger and r u a hippi cause i am
While I appreciate that this person took the time to e-mail me, I wish that he’d at least have had the decency to use punctuation. I replied but never heard back. Apparently, since I told him I wasn’t a hippie, I am persona non grata in his world. Forsooth.
Some new additions to my bootleg collection:
Ryan Adams - 12/07/01 Barrymore Theater
Phil Collins - 02/20/83 Warner Theater, Washington DC
Dick Dale - 05/14/04 The Cabooz, Minneapolis, MN
Genesis - 05/29/92 Olympic Stadium, Montreal, Canada
Jethro Tull - 11/16/79 Civic Auditorium, Santa Monica, CA
New Orleans Klezmer Allstars - 03/18/00 Comfort Zone, Toronto, Ontario
The Pixies - 01/28/92 Barrymore Theater
Richard Thompson - 10/16/96 Irving Plaza, NY, NY
What shall I get next?
I’m not looking forward to returning to work tomorrow. There will be some catching up to do, no doubt, but otherwise back to the boredom. Welcome to the state indeed.
My weekend was fine. Watched the debate on Friday with Stevie which made me ponder if Dubya knows anything about our country’s history or ever actually read any of our state papers. I mean, come on, he pulls Dred Scott out of his ass and had the gall to say that he and his Faith Based Initiatives are in strict adherence to the Constitution. Kerry, being the great joiner-iner that he is, said that he too supported such egregious violations of the First Amendment. Oh glory be! Both of you guys can take your respective religions and shove them up your respective assholes. Kerry becomes less attractive as a President all the time. I think William Saletan had a good takeon the whole sordid affair.
I got laid on Saturday. Twice, in fact, so, considering I didn’t win the lottery, they were the most important events of the day. But also noteworthy is the fact that I finished that book on war. It was good but could have been great had the author not been so repetitive repetitive. He had a boatload of good anecdotes but he treaded the same ground in each chapter. We’ll see how this A Natural History of Love goes. It came highly recommended by my bro’s roommate, Andy. It also came to me by way of him. I finished listening to Doctor Who: The Creed of the Kromon and will start The Natural History of Fear tonight and am really looking forward to it. Instead of a brief plot outline, the makers give this:
IT IS A CRIMINAL OFFENCE TO COPY OR ATTEMPT TO COPY ANY PERSONALITY OR MEMORY-RELATED ARTICLE SHOWN OR DISPLAYED IN THIS PUBLIC THEATRE, INCLUDING THIS WARNING. PUNISHMENT OR CONVICTION IS AN UNLIMITED REDUCTION OF AUTHORISED OVERTIME HOURS AND TOTAL PERSONALITY REVISION. YOU ARE NOT PERMITTED TO BRING ANY JUKEBOX OR RECORDING EQUIPMENT INTO THIS PUBLIC THEATRE. THIS WILL BE TREATED AS AN ATTEMPT TO BREACH COPYRIGHT. ANY PERSON DOING SO CAN BE EJECTED AND THE EDITOR MAY CONFISCATE SUCH ARTICLES. WE ASK THE PUBLIC TO BE VIGILANT AGAINST ANY SUCH ACTIVITY AND REPORT ANY MATTERS AROUSING SUSPICION TO THEIR LOCAL CONSCIENCE. THANK YOU.
Public Warning
Faction Against Character Theft
Also included was a comment from the director:
”When Paul McGann turned up on his first day (we recorded this one first), he announced that this was one of the best scripts he'd ever read - not just Who-wise, but of all. He liked the political touches and said when we'd finished 'more like this, please'."
The old blog has a new look. I snagged it from somewhere that probably deserves credit but I can’t remember from whence it came. It was called “Autumn Something-Or-Other” so I thought it appropriate. It came pre-hoolied with a column for links’n’such so I’ve taken advantage of it. And I even have a link for folks to email me which hasn’t been the case for a few months. I suppose it’s not a big deal as I’ve only ever had one (1) person email me. This person wanted to know if I was a hippie. Oh, here it is in all it’s semi-literated Internet shorthand glory:
”hey where pine river i saw it on ur blogger and r u a hippi cause i am
While I appreciate that this person took the time to e-mail me, I wish that he’d at least have had the decency to use punctuation. I replied but never heard back. Apparently, since I told him I wasn’t a hippie, I am persona non grata in his world. Forsooth.
Some new additions to my bootleg collection:
Ryan Adams - 12/07/01 Barrymore Theater
Phil Collins - 02/20/83 Warner Theater, Washington DC
Dick Dale - 05/14/04 The Cabooz, Minneapolis, MN
Genesis - 05/29/92 Olympic Stadium, Montreal, Canada
Jethro Tull - 11/16/79 Civic Auditorium, Santa Monica, CA
New Orleans Klezmer Allstars - 03/18/00 Comfort Zone, Toronto, Ontario
The Pixies - 01/28/92 Barrymore Theater
Richard Thompson - 10/16/96 Irving Plaza, NY, NY
What shall I get next?
08 October, 2004
Report from 1WW
While having a conversation outside with my co-worker Archie, the topic of card games came up. At one point, he described how bridge differed from pinochle and it occurred to me that the last of the old guard of pinochle players in my family died in July. I lapsed into a mental zone briefly and thought about how the days of great-uncles coming down hard on the younger set were over. I think it was Frank who chastised the harshest. Never having learnt the game, I can’t be sure. Humdrum thoughts on a dreary day.
I’ve been at work for nearly 2½ hours and accomplished little. I have resolved a couple cases and am not waiting to hear back from a few more people. It being a Friday, I think the majority of the state workforce has the day off so it’s slow. Very slow. No new problems have come our way in about 45 minutes. Since we’re newbie contractors, there isn’t other work for us to do. Our tax money hard at work.
Last night I was in the mood to be productive so I headed out to the Kinko’s on the west side to have an ID badge made as per my boss’ orders. I get there and tell a clerk what I require. “We don’t do those here,” he tells me. But, since they do take passport photos, I did have that done. When it was time to pay the piper, I told him to put it on my company’s tab. I give him the acronym as well as the full name. “The account has been deactivated,” he says. So I leave the pictures there figuring someone else can pick them up considering the office is just down the street. This morning I emailed my boss and told him what had happened. His reply humored me:
”I spoke with the Asst Manager of Kinko's @ Mineral Point in Madison this morning. Apparently, that clerk isn't too sharp. He/she read the wrong account name. There's a Paragon Realty whose account has been deactivated. The Asst Manager apologizes for the error - she is aware they made the error.”
Yeah, that guy was as sharp as a bowling ball. At least I got to stand around a while and looking over the brace of books concerning how to deal with bosses who are idiots.
Well, Stevie’s poker game for tonight has been cancelled. I don’t know exactly why as he never explained. He did, however, mention that it was all for the better as he’d rather watch the Presidential debate anyway. I think it’s safe to say that he is now officially a fire-breathing democrat. Not that there’s much wrong with that but he’s become obsessed with this whole election hoolie. I usually get up a little later than he so by the time I mosey downstairs, there’s coffee (if you consider Folgers to be coffee, that is) ready and the news is on the idiot box. Every morning I he greets me with the latest poll data. Before I got this job, this routine was reserved for evenings.
I can’t get the instrumental section of “Matty Groves” by Fairport Convention out of my head. Swarb’s fiddle and Dick Thompson’s guitar keep swirling in my mind’s ear. That album of Leige and Lief demos finished downloading last week and a few of the tracks have been in Winamp’s playlist since then. I really must get that album again. If memory serves, it’s been remastered and laden with bonus tracks. In addition to these, one of three live versions of “Hand in Hand” has also been a staple in my musical diet as of late. Two from 1985 and one from 1983.
I noticed a funny thing in last week’s issue of…of…of that new free weekly by whomever publishes the Wisconsin State Urinal. Core Weekly! That’s it. There was that article about that womyn who collects vintage erotica novels. (Should that read “erotic novels”?) While amusing in itself, what humored me was that her picture shows her wearing a Jethro Tull t-shirt.
I’ve traded a few emails with The Dulcinea today. Aside from any concupiscence involved, it’s made me want to listen to the new Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy series. The third episode was broadcast this week. Luckily there’s Usenet so I can catch up in high fidelity. I wonder – are there any radio stations in this whole friggin’ country where one can listen to radio theater? I mean, it seems like the BBC has got that shit covered for the UK while our airwaves seem to be filled with bands of hate-spewing right-wing brigands and an endless repetition of Britney Spears and Outkast.
I might just make tonight a mellow one. Brew up some tasty coffee for a start. At this point, my interest in the Prez debate is pretty low and I’ve got a lot of laundry to put away. And it’s about that time - to put the flannel stuff on my bed. And I’m keen on continuing with my current read as well despite that it’s gotten a bit repetitious. It’s gotten too “War is this way and here’s an example. Now here’s a couple corollaries with their attendant examples. Rinse and repeat.” Still, it is an exceedingly interesting topic. The book is a quick read so I’ll get through it. Hell, I may even watch some television this weekend. Probably Bill Maher’s show tonight and NOW w/Bill Moyers whenever it airs. They’re not showing it tonight because of the debates. BookTV looks to have some interesting bits but I’ll peruse their schedule later.
OK, it’s lunch time and I need coffee.
While having a conversation outside with my co-worker Archie, the topic of card games came up. At one point, he described how bridge differed from pinochle and it occurred to me that the last of the old guard of pinochle players in my family died in July. I lapsed into a mental zone briefly and thought about how the days of great-uncles coming down hard on the younger set were over. I think it was Frank who chastised the harshest. Never having learnt the game, I can’t be sure. Humdrum thoughts on a dreary day.
I’ve been at work for nearly 2½ hours and accomplished little. I have resolved a couple cases and am not waiting to hear back from a few more people. It being a Friday, I think the majority of the state workforce has the day off so it’s slow. Very slow. No new problems have come our way in about 45 minutes. Since we’re newbie contractors, there isn’t other work for us to do. Our tax money hard at work.
Last night I was in the mood to be productive so I headed out to the Kinko’s on the west side to have an ID badge made as per my boss’ orders. I get there and tell a clerk what I require. “We don’t do those here,” he tells me. But, since they do take passport photos, I did have that done. When it was time to pay the piper, I told him to put it on my company’s tab. I give him the acronym as well as the full name. “The account has been deactivated,” he says. So I leave the pictures there figuring someone else can pick them up considering the office is just down the street. This morning I emailed my boss and told him what had happened. His reply humored me:
”I spoke with the Asst Manager of Kinko's @ Mineral Point in Madison this morning. Apparently, that clerk isn't too sharp. He/she read the wrong account name. There's a Paragon Realty whose account has been deactivated. The Asst Manager apologizes for the error - she is aware they made the error.”
Yeah, that guy was as sharp as a bowling ball. At least I got to stand around a while and looking over the brace of books concerning how to deal with bosses who are idiots.
Well, Stevie’s poker game for tonight has been cancelled. I don’t know exactly why as he never explained. He did, however, mention that it was all for the better as he’d rather watch the Presidential debate anyway. I think it’s safe to say that he is now officially a fire-breathing democrat. Not that there’s much wrong with that but he’s become obsessed with this whole election hoolie. I usually get up a little later than he so by the time I mosey downstairs, there’s coffee (if you consider Folgers to be coffee, that is) ready and the news is on the idiot box. Every morning I he greets me with the latest poll data. Before I got this job, this routine was reserved for evenings.
I can’t get the instrumental section of “Matty Groves” by Fairport Convention out of my head. Swarb’s fiddle and Dick Thompson’s guitar keep swirling in my mind’s ear. That album of Leige and Lief demos finished downloading last week and a few of the tracks have been in Winamp’s playlist since then. I really must get that album again. If memory serves, it’s been remastered and laden with bonus tracks. In addition to these, one of three live versions of “Hand in Hand” has also been a staple in my musical diet as of late. Two from 1985 and one from 1983.
I noticed a funny thing in last week’s issue of…of…of that new free weekly by whomever publishes the Wisconsin State Urinal. Core Weekly! That’s it. There was that article about that womyn who collects vintage erotica novels. (Should that read “erotic novels”?) While amusing in itself, what humored me was that her picture shows her wearing a Jethro Tull t-shirt.
I’ve traded a few emails with The Dulcinea today. Aside from any concupiscence involved, it’s made me want to listen to the new Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy series. The third episode was broadcast this week. Luckily there’s Usenet so I can catch up in high fidelity. I wonder – are there any radio stations in this whole friggin’ country where one can listen to radio theater? I mean, it seems like the BBC has got that shit covered for the UK while our airwaves seem to be filled with bands of hate-spewing right-wing brigands and an endless repetition of Britney Spears and Outkast.
I might just make tonight a mellow one. Brew up some tasty coffee for a start. At this point, my interest in the Prez debate is pretty low and I’ve got a lot of laundry to put away. And it’s about that time - to put the flannel stuff on my bed. And I’m keen on continuing with my current read as well despite that it’s gotten a bit repetitious. It’s gotten too “War is this way and here’s an example. Now here’s a couple corollaries with their attendant examples. Rinse and repeat.” Still, it is an exceedingly interesting topic. The book is a quick read so I’ll get through it. Hell, I may even watch some television this weekend. Probably Bill Maher’s show tonight and NOW w/Bill Moyers whenever it airs. They’re not showing it tonight because of the debates. BookTV looks to have some interesting bits but I’ll peruse their schedule later.
OK, it’s lunch time and I need coffee.
07 October, 2004
Humor From Across the Pond
A storm of criticism has arisen in Britain over a 10-minute sequence of the Channel 5 reality series The Farm, in which one of the show's participants was seen masturbating a pig, then collecting about 3/4 of a pint of semen in a flask to be used for inseminating sows. The show's participant was Rebecca Loos, soccer star David Beckham's alleged ex-lover. Today's Guardian newspaper cited some typical viewer reaction: "It was just vile. It was probably the worst thing I have seen on TV. I just couldn't believe it was on television." Another: "Are there not laws against this kind of thing." The channel said that it was merely depicting a normal part of life on a farm.
¾ of a pint?!? That puts me to shame.
A storm of criticism has arisen in Britain over a 10-minute sequence of the Channel 5 reality series The Farm, in which one of the show's participants was seen masturbating a pig, then collecting about 3/4 of a pint of semen in a flask to be used for inseminating sows. The show's participant was Rebecca Loos, soccer star David Beckham's alleged ex-lover. Today's Guardian newspaper cited some typical viewer reaction: "It was just vile. It was probably the worst thing I have seen on TV. I just couldn't believe it was on television." Another: "Are there not laws against this kind of thing." The channel said that it was merely depicting a normal part of life on a farm.
¾ of a pint?!? That puts me to shame.
06 October, 2004
Worse Things
I must remember to bring headphones to work tomorrow because it’s so fucking boring! I am a reminded of a poli sci class I took in college. The state is such a wonderful creature. It does everything to ensure that the least amount of work is done in the greatest amount of time. Still we have no resources other than people and we are forced to consult poor Pete nearly constantly as there’s no one else about the place. Today I had to find out what CLIC is. Not a clue. No mention of it on any of the paperwork we were given which, by the way, is becoming increasingly useless. If some hot womyn don’t appear soon, I may go crazy because I can only have the flames of my libido extinguished by the sight severely overweight middle-aged women for so long before the act of trying to get an erection takes on Herculean overtones. Having only just started there, I can still revel in the irony of being surrounded by the obese (clinically, at least) at the Department of Health and Family Services. This is the place that doesn’t allow smoking on its property – not even in the parking lot. So we smokers take refuge in the nearby parking ramp. Now, I’m not exactly thin but I’m not over-nourished as these people are. Offices are no places for young people like myself, surrounded as we are by horrifying visions of the ever-approaching paunchy, balding Middle Ages.
These bad dreams were driven home this week at my lunchtime walks which involve inclines. My legs actually ached a bit. Much bicycling is needed as is exercise generally. But it felt good nonetheless to be out in the air getting a modicum of gentle physical activity. And I figured out where Ancora was. I went there twice to atone for my sin of having gone to Starbucks, only once, mind you, on Monday. (My list of baristas I’d like to fuck has increased greatly in the past three days.) On top of all this, I took the bus home. The act of not having contributed to traffic and carbon monoxide emissions was pleasing. It only took me about 23 minutes to get home, including a brief walk from the bus stop to my abode. Ecce ambulo! More walking! I feel like such a Madisonian. I don’t understand why people here bitch about the bus. No doubt some routes entail excruciatingly long rides but I’m happy. The CTA’s Big Green Limousines were like a second home when I was a pubescent. Being packed like sardines on an Addison bus that served 2 large high schools – mine had 4500-5000 students – as well as an el stop and Wrigley Field. This was before night games there (and before metal detectors at my former school.)
Plus the ride gave me a chance to start reading a book that The Dulcinea lent me, War Is a Force That Gives Us Meaning. Quite good. Well, the introduction was interesting, anyway.
I was just going to write that today has been the first day in months without an email from The Dulcinea and then she calls. I didn’t answer the phone because I didn’t want to talk to anyone but Stevie did and the rat-bastard gave away that I was home. We spent an hour or so together and I nearly feel asleep. At first it was OK because I helped her out with a couple things but then had to sit here while she talked to herself as she tried to figure out a newsreader. It’s noisy here in the basement and I could barely makeout what she was saying so I just grunted in ascent most of the time. But finally I went upstairs where it was quieter and listened some more. Why do women do this? Call up a guy and have little or nothing to say? Ya know, if I’d wanted to talk to you or entertain you, I would have called thou. Instead, I was at home having a grand time alone and now it’s done and over. I am not Joey Conversationalist. If you want someone to wane poetic about shit at you, call up a girly friend or family member. We introverted types have to pick our moment of logorrhea carefully and, when we do, we’ll call you.
So now I have forgotten what it was that I was going to write. Ah well. Worse things have been known to happen.
I must remember to bring headphones to work tomorrow because it’s so fucking boring! I am a reminded of a poli sci class I took in college. The state is such a wonderful creature. It does everything to ensure that the least amount of work is done in the greatest amount of time. Still we have no resources other than people and we are forced to consult poor Pete nearly constantly as there’s no one else about the place. Today I had to find out what CLIC is. Not a clue. No mention of it on any of the paperwork we were given which, by the way, is becoming increasingly useless. If some hot womyn don’t appear soon, I may go crazy because I can only have the flames of my libido extinguished by the sight severely overweight middle-aged women for so long before the act of trying to get an erection takes on Herculean overtones. Having only just started there, I can still revel in the irony of being surrounded by the obese (clinically, at least) at the Department of Health and Family Services. This is the place that doesn’t allow smoking on its property – not even in the parking lot. So we smokers take refuge in the nearby parking ramp. Now, I’m not exactly thin but I’m not over-nourished as these people are. Offices are no places for young people like myself, surrounded as we are by horrifying visions of the ever-approaching paunchy, balding Middle Ages.
These bad dreams were driven home this week at my lunchtime walks which involve inclines. My legs actually ached a bit. Much bicycling is needed as is exercise generally. But it felt good nonetheless to be out in the air getting a modicum of gentle physical activity. And I figured out where Ancora was. I went there twice to atone for my sin of having gone to Starbucks, only once, mind you, on Monday. (My list of baristas I’d like to fuck has increased greatly in the past three days.) On top of all this, I took the bus home. The act of not having contributed to traffic and carbon monoxide emissions was pleasing. It only took me about 23 minutes to get home, including a brief walk from the bus stop to my abode. Ecce ambulo! More walking! I feel like such a Madisonian. I don’t understand why people here bitch about the bus. No doubt some routes entail excruciatingly long rides but I’m happy. The CTA’s Big Green Limousines were like a second home when I was a pubescent. Being packed like sardines on an Addison bus that served 2 large high schools – mine had 4500-5000 students – as well as an el stop and Wrigley Field. This was before night games there (and before metal detectors at my former school.)
Plus the ride gave me a chance to start reading a book that The Dulcinea lent me, War Is a Force That Gives Us Meaning. Quite good. Well, the introduction was interesting, anyway.
I was just going to write that today has been the first day in months without an email from The Dulcinea and then she calls. I didn’t answer the phone because I didn’t want to talk to anyone but Stevie did and the rat-bastard gave away that I was home. We spent an hour or so together and I nearly feel asleep. At first it was OK because I helped her out with a couple things but then had to sit here while she talked to herself as she tried to figure out a newsreader. It’s noisy here in the basement and I could barely makeout what she was saying so I just grunted in ascent most of the time. But finally I went upstairs where it was quieter and listened some more. Why do women do this? Call up a guy and have little or nothing to say? Ya know, if I’d wanted to talk to you or entertain you, I would have called thou. Instead, I was at home having a grand time alone and now it’s done and over. I am not Joey Conversationalist. If you want someone to wane poetic about shit at you, call up a girly friend or family member. We introverted types have to pick our moment of logorrhea carefully and, when we do, we’ll call you.
So now I have forgotten what it was that I was going to write. Ah well. Worse things have been known to happen.
SON VOLT BACK IN STUDIO: NEW LINE-UP ANNOUNCED, ANTHOLOGY IN THE WORKS
Jay Farrar’s popular rock band persona, Son Volt, is heading back into the studio to record their fourth full-length studio album—the first new release since 1998’s Wide Swing Tremolo (Warner Bros. Records). This time around, though, fans will be seeing (and hearing) a different collection of side musicians performing with Farrar. After several months of discussions and planning with the original Son Volt players—Dave Boquist, Jim Boquist and Mike Heidorn—Farrar was unable to reach acceptable business terms with the original line-up.
"Times change, and so do people, I guess,” reflected Farrar. “While I was looking forward to the reunion aspect of working with those guys, it just wasn’t meant to be. It’ll be liberating to get down to work with a different group of musicians. I had always envisioned Son Volt as a vehicle for my songwriting and expected it to evolve over the years. When I reformed the original band this year to record our track for Por Vida [the Alejandro Escovedo benefit album (Or Music)], it seemed like we might be able to extend that two-day session into two years of recording and touring--but it doesn’t look that way now.”
With fifteen Son Volt songs written, studio time booked and engineer John Agnello on board, Farrar now plans to commence recording in St. Louis on October 12. Currently set to collaborate with Farrar on these sessions are Brad Rice (guitar-Tift Merritt, Ryan Adams), Andrew Duplantis (bass—Jon Dee Graham, Meat Puppets, Bob Mould), Eric Heywood (pedal steel—Son Volt, Calexico) and Dave Bryson (drums—Canyon).
Fans will have access to these sessions through web cameras installed in the studio beginning October 12, providing a very rare glimpse into Farrar’s recording process as it actually unfolds. Access to these cameras (and other behind-the-scenes material) will be available at www.jayfarrar.net/webcam.
Also on the Son Volt horizon is an anthology of material from the first three Warner Bros. albums—including rare or previously unreleased soundtrack cuts, live tracks, demos and unreleased studio recordings from that era. This anthology, the new studio album, plus a long-awaited tour are all slated for mid-2005.
Jay Farrar’s popular rock band persona, Son Volt, is heading back into the studio to record their fourth full-length studio album—the first new release since 1998’s Wide Swing Tremolo (Warner Bros. Records). This time around, though, fans will be seeing (and hearing) a different collection of side musicians performing with Farrar. After several months of discussions and planning with the original Son Volt players—Dave Boquist, Jim Boquist and Mike Heidorn—Farrar was unable to reach acceptable business terms with the original line-up.
"Times change, and so do people, I guess,” reflected Farrar. “While I was looking forward to the reunion aspect of working with those guys, it just wasn’t meant to be. It’ll be liberating to get down to work with a different group of musicians. I had always envisioned Son Volt as a vehicle for my songwriting and expected it to evolve over the years. When I reformed the original band this year to record our track for Por Vida [the Alejandro Escovedo benefit album (Or Music)], it seemed like we might be able to extend that two-day session into two years of recording and touring--but it doesn’t look that way now.”
With fifteen Son Volt songs written, studio time booked and engineer John Agnello on board, Farrar now plans to commence recording in St. Louis on October 12. Currently set to collaborate with Farrar on these sessions are Brad Rice (guitar-Tift Merritt, Ryan Adams), Andrew Duplantis (bass—Jon Dee Graham, Meat Puppets, Bob Mould), Eric Heywood (pedal steel—Son Volt, Calexico) and Dave Bryson (drums—Canyon).
Fans will have access to these sessions through web cameras installed in the studio beginning October 12, providing a very rare glimpse into Farrar’s recording process as it actually unfolds. Access to these cameras (and other behind-the-scenes material) will be available at www.jayfarrar.net/webcam.
Also on the Son Volt horizon is an anthology of material from the first three Warner Bros. albums—including rare or previously unreleased soundtrack cuts, live tracks, demos and unreleased studio recordings from that era. This anthology, the new studio album, plus a long-awaited tour are all slated for mid-2005.
05 October, 2004
Coffee Grounds Bury the Hours That I Kill
I actually accomplished things today. The greatest of these is having spent some seven or eight hours at Mother Fools reading and listening to Doctor Who audio dramas. On the plus side, I finally finished reading God’s Secretaries and listening to Zagreus. Each was, in its own way, extremely interesting and entertaining. Of course there were some hotties there but all were quite resistant to my subterfuges. But I did manage to get into conversations with a few guys who were, in their own ways, interesting and entertaining. I must make a note to myself to sit in the squeaky chair. At one point I was speaking with a guy who, from all indications, lived out of his car when this gorgeous midriff-bearing creature steps in front of him and bends over to rummage through the newspaper repository. I nearly pitched a tent and I had the wrong view. Later, ARA called with an estimate on replacing my transmission. It’s more than I care to admit in public but I was happy to be able to have a diagnosis and estimate the same day I brought the car in. I called a couple places before them and was told Thursday morning at the earliest. It’s odd that I didn’t consider ARA first as I’ve brought cars in there before. Casey may be a rip-off artist for all I know but he comes across as a straight-shooter. And I gave him my business card so hopefully their computer will break and I can charge them an outrageous sum for work beyond their abilities.
By the time I got home, I had a nice caffeine buzz and had me a spot of andouille to calm the gullet. A little surfing and setting up some downloads and it was off to bed. The perfect murder of a day.
I actually accomplished things today. The greatest of these is having spent some seven or eight hours at Mother Fools reading and listening to Doctor Who audio dramas. On the plus side, I finally finished reading God’s Secretaries and listening to Zagreus. Each was, in its own way, extremely interesting and entertaining. Of course there were some hotties there but all were quite resistant to my subterfuges. But I did manage to get into conversations with a few guys who were, in their own ways, interesting and entertaining. I must make a note to myself to sit in the squeaky chair. At one point I was speaking with a guy who, from all indications, lived out of his car when this gorgeous midriff-bearing creature steps in front of him and bends over to rummage through the newspaper repository. I nearly pitched a tent and I had the wrong view. Later, ARA called with an estimate on replacing my transmission. It’s more than I care to admit in public but I was happy to be able to have a diagnosis and estimate the same day I brought the car in. I called a couple places before them and was told Thursday morning at the earliest. It’s odd that I didn’t consider ARA first as I’ve brought cars in there before. Casey may be a rip-off artist for all I know but he comes across as a straight-shooter. And I gave him my business card so hopefully their computer will break and I can charge them an outrageous sum for work beyond their abilities.
By the time I got home, I had a nice caffeine buzz and had me a spot of andouille to calm the gullet. A little surfing and setting up some downloads and it was off to bed. The perfect murder of a day.
04 October, 2004
A Monday Best Forgotten
It’s a curious feeling to see a personals ad by the woman you were just fucking a couple weeks ago. Ah well, more power to her. I myself am trying to find a new fraulein so it’s all good. I should probably download the pictures that she put up of herself for my digital keepsakes album, ie – the My Pictures folder on my PC, as I don’t actually have any that contain her visage. For my part, I got a response from a womyn to one ad thingy. We had to trade a few questions and answers before I was allowed to see the goods. I took this to be a bad omen and my intuition was right. While probably a sweet and caring individual, I just didn’t find her attractive. None of these profile matching schemes is worth a fuck because they don’t take into account a woman’s looks. Shit, I don’t need an algorithm to tell me how well I’d get along with a woman – I can figure that out myself. What I need to know is what she looks like because I’m hornier than a two-peckered billy goat in a fucking bee. She could love listening to progressive rock as much as I do but, if I’ve gotta move 14 love handles to get to the honeypot, well, that ain’t gonna cut it.
Now that I work at the state, I’ll never find a young, nubile gal at my place of employment. Though there are some good-looking “older” women. In fact, the one who sits next to me is a hottie. She’s quite sylphlike but I’d still fuck her like a broken screen door in a hurricane. But I’m pretty sure she’s hitched.
My new job is classic. Fix shit that I know next to nothing about with no resources at hand. I found a manual and followed the procedure it listed only to get an angry email from some woman in another department. Windows and Office issues I can handle but how the fuck am I supposed to fix these proprietary applications if there are no resources? I can’t even get them installed on my PC to zip into a test environment or anything. While I have local admin rights, I don’t have rights to whack out to anyone else’s PC nor to most servers. At least I’ll get a phone # of my own come Thursday. Maybe. A manager told us today that the whole deal hadn’t yet been OK’d by those on high so our positions could be scrapped and we sent packing tomorrow.
On my way home, my car’s transmission took a dumper so I’ve gotta spend tomorrow getting it towed to someplace which will probably inform me that they can’t even look at it for a month.
Oh glorious Monday!
It’s a curious feeling to see a personals ad by the woman you were just fucking a couple weeks ago. Ah well, more power to her. I myself am trying to find a new fraulein so it’s all good. I should probably download the pictures that she put up of herself for my digital keepsakes album, ie – the My Pictures folder on my PC, as I don’t actually have any that contain her visage. For my part, I got a response from a womyn to one ad thingy. We had to trade a few questions and answers before I was allowed to see the goods. I took this to be a bad omen and my intuition was right. While probably a sweet and caring individual, I just didn’t find her attractive. None of these profile matching schemes is worth a fuck because they don’t take into account a woman’s looks. Shit, I don’t need an algorithm to tell me how well I’d get along with a woman – I can figure that out myself. What I need to know is what she looks like because I’m hornier than a two-peckered billy goat in a fucking bee. She could love listening to progressive rock as much as I do but, if I’ve gotta move 14 love handles to get to the honeypot, well, that ain’t gonna cut it.
Now that I work at the state, I’ll never find a young, nubile gal at my place of employment. Though there are some good-looking “older” women. In fact, the one who sits next to me is a hottie. She’s quite sylphlike but I’d still fuck her like a broken screen door in a hurricane. But I’m pretty sure she’s hitched.
My new job is classic. Fix shit that I know next to nothing about with no resources at hand. I found a manual and followed the procedure it listed only to get an angry email from some woman in another department. Windows and Office issues I can handle but how the fuck am I supposed to fix these proprietary applications if there are no resources? I can’t even get them installed on my PC to zip into a test environment or anything. While I have local admin rights, I don’t have rights to whack out to anyone else’s PC nor to most servers. At least I’ll get a phone # of my own come Thursday. Maybe. A manager told us today that the whole deal hadn’t yet been OK’d by those on high so our positions could be scrapped and we sent packing tomorrow.
On my way home, my car’s transmission took a dumper so I’ve gotta spend tomorrow getting it towed to someplace which will probably inform me that they can’t even look at it for a month.
Oh glorious Monday!
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