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March 10, 2008

Nothing Going

Yeah. Sorry to disappoint, but the measles like symptoms I was exhibiting last week failed to bring death to the Visceraman1 Empire. Wait...that had a horridly negative tone about it. Scratch that and let's move on.

No pictures of foods prepared, mostly because Jeri bought us dinners due to my imminent death. I did make that Irish Soda Bread, and some Shrimp Po'Boys for her (which, she devoured all of....perhaps knowing that it might be the last home cooked meal she'd get in some time....well, after the wake, and before moving in with her sibling in Utah.)

No dancing.

No gaming stories. (Started work on Forza2 again though.)(Stupid Frontlines!)

And that's it.

More to follow.

February 17, 2008

When The Judge Said

Tragic may be a bit disappointed in my lack of baking (however I did spend the week making my own corned beef..that's another entry though), anyway, part of Ms. Jeri's VD gift (no, not the herpe type), was tickets to the nicely sold out Sia show. Accompanied by her pals Dolce & Gabana from Gilbert, she feasted on pancakes and then made her way into the venue.

Before Sia, we were all treated to a performance by Har Mar Superstar who....well..I am never wearing pants to work again. Ever. Infectious, sexy, and brazen. I found his performance delightful....

And then Sia took the stage. I'm sure Jeri will add her review in the comments below, and rather surprisingly, I will second them.


Kerry was there in spirit of course, his thoughts were pretty...well...I'm not sure what Jackson Browne had to do with anything...

January 20, 2008

Travels With Jeri

I had the opportunity to spend some quiet time with Sweet Jeri the last few days (well, quiet for me that is...she endured the ever constant flow of bi-polar nonsense that streams from my mouth....wait...that's another entry..). To mark the 6 years of patience, we headed South for on of our favourite destinations.

On the way, we made a brief, yet requisite stop in Tombstone, where, incidentally the remaining objects I needed to complete my best friends glycerin project were nowhere to be found. (Fuckers!) Instead I did see:

A hearse

And of course, a Tombstone at Boothill Cemetery

Then, I apparently began whining, so we got back in the car and continued on our way. (I did get my ice cream though!)

The Inn we stayed in was immaculate, sumptuous, and perfect for our trip. I trust young Jeri will add a few remarks, regarding the inn later.

Looking towards the balcony:

And off the balcony:

We feasted:
(note the inappropriate term)

How it looks...sort of...

Jeri's well burnt steak (it's how she likes it....weird-o!)

And what she tends to leave behind (weird-o!)

The town can, and is incredibly difficult to photograph, at least for fat fingered boys like myself It's a beautiful, comforting environment, much like my wife, who is my life!

December 06, 2007

Dear Diary: Keep Practicing

Ok, so Bear Grylls, Les Stroud, and of course, K-Dog I'm not. Yet....but then again, it's early yet. After hearing that over 90 people are attacked by the Wild Doodle each year (That's nearly 2 people a week!), I set out to see if I could show you, the viewer, how to survive a Wild Doodle attack.

Fortunately, when she knocked the camera out of my hands, the power was cut off, preventing the viewer from hearing my childish, and very girlish shrieks, and the copius micturating on the floor preventing viewers from learning how they too can fend off an attack using just a grommet, common house plant leaf, and spit.

December 03, 2007

Dear Diary: That was November.

So to recap the magical events:

1. Jeri acquired a new cat for the family, Bagheera. I'm still trying to decide which picture to show everyone, most, ok all of the pictures are fairly blurry. Squirmy little guy.

2. Jeri almost acquired another cat for the family when one of these little ones manged to burrow itself between our walls. To make K-Dog and Doodle proud, I demonstrated my complete [lack] of handyman skills and destroyed the cabinets, and the walls to get the little one out. And, after all my hard work, the cat just ran out at the sound of Jeri's voice.


3. The best part of Thanksgiving was the bipolar feast that I prepared after the holiday.

4. I met someone from the Red Cross that knew Will, and said "that motherfucker saves a shit load of lives."

5. I forgot to mention Jeri and I accidentally witnessed the Dave Matthews Band when we were in Tombstone.


Fortunately Jeri peed rather quickly that day.

6. I found some video footage from my brother's wedding, a bit (ok a lot!) blurry/grainy and short to boot.

7. It looks like all is clear with my DMORT paperwork!

And that's just about it...I think.

Oh yeah.. one more thing.

I love you!

November 03, 2007

Dear Diary: Almondine

Yeah, I beat the month mark...barely. How...ever, that month flew by, and I was too engrossed in some damned game called Xeno Tactic to write about any of the major events....of which there were at least 3.

1. The city finally put speed bumps (humps?) on our street. This is helping a little with the bastards from Tucson's East Side who feel it necessary to speed up and down our street in an attempt to avoid 1st Avenue traffic.

2. Jeri's been feeding a number of strays that were birthed in our shed. (Birthed from an uncaring, hateful mother cat). About two weeks ago now, I opened the door to feed them, when the little boy kitten (the numbers dwindled drastically due to mother cats disdain), bolted inside and began eating alongside the other cats. I'm not sure how he became so tame, so quickly, but now, Bagheera is here to stay. Neutered of course. Pictures to follow someday.

3. Went to Los Angeles with the parents to attend my brother's wedding. My favourite part was Sorrento's Italian Market (which, I now have to find more Dry Sausage in Oil because I am 'bogarting' it, sorry Doug!). I also did have a good time in the garment area, shopping for Doodle, finding that special knickknack for K-$ and so forth.

4. In my absence K-Dog, did NOT help out around the joint. I still have 4 more things to remove (not as gross as what he removed this week thank you Margaret Truman!)

5. Of course, returning home.

Violin is well, I won't go into detail on what I'm doing just yet.

The Kite Runner is a very good read.

Do I like Man Vs. Wild better than Survivorman?

Until next time...........

October 03, 2007

Dear Diary: Dreams Do Come True!

So, I was busily kicking Kerry's ass getting spanked by Kerry in chess today, when he noticed I had adopted the Michael Knight moniker, and had been tip toeing around to see just how big of a Knight Rider fan he was. As you will note from previous comments, he's craftily gotten out of the whole burro building project, and so I began digging up some literature for his new, unescapable project - the creation of my very own KITT 2000.

Sweet holy jesus & Larry! it's like being a school girl all over again! They're bringing back the saga! (Doodle says it's all nonsense, but it's all based on the Humor In Uniform section of Reader's Digest.)

I for one, won't be able to sleep a wink for months!!

September 16, 2007

Dear Diary: To Whet Your Appetite

Now that a certain someone is getting a new computer, one that can handle this sort of post, here we go.

Last night of course, was the Championship battle between the Furious Truckstop Waitresses, and my (beloved) Vice Squad. Jeri and I chose to take pictures the old fashioned way; I procured some 1600 speed film from the lab, and if they develop nicely, I'll post some here. Meanwhile here's a sample of what we've been seeing. (Vice Squad now wears all black instead of the light blue in the clip.....and it's like they just *know* I have a penchant for tights, hose, fishnets, short shorts etc.). The Red team is the Iron Curtain, neither Jeri or I like them. Mostly because they suck. Clip is just shy of 4 minutes.

July 10, 2007

Dear Diary: Intermission

Ok. The real entry will post sometime on Saturday. I could do a proper, full entry now, but the computer I'm using doesn't have accommodations for my memory card, which means no pictures to accompany anything. With that said, I am having an excellent time here in Ann Arbor (how come it's so clean here, and Tucson is so filthy?)(Ok, that wasn't fair.....how come East Tucson is so filthy?)

I have to go finish watching the Shield now, and so I leave the next entry to Doodle or K-Dog.

June 24, 2007

Dear Diary: Smoke And Mirrors

So then....Last weeks absence was due to a slight venture to the very celluloid world of Las Vegas. Formally, we shall refer to this excursion as some sort of Clinical Anatomists Conference, however in stark reality, it ended up being our hotel, The Green Valley Ranch Resort (and Spa).

"Sweet Mary Mother Fucking Son of God" was the only thought that crossed my mind upon entering. (I suggest visiting their website for more on this.) In my years in this rather ghoulish field, I've been exposed to a few resort settings but [Insert above comment] [repeatedly], this palatial environment was overwhelming with it's opulence. A few shots of the grounds (courtesy of Doodle):


From behind part of the vineyard, looking towards the spa.


The Grand Staircase


The entrance to our very own tower of luxury

The bridge extending over the pool - this (one of a number of bodies of water found around the grounds, was a beach, with perfectly raked sand (just begging to be kicked about).


Same body of water, at night


And if you just want to soak your feet..


I'm really not sure why we didn't bother to take more pictures around the hotel, it could have something to do with the fact that I'm lazy, but no...we'll blame it on the ungodly heat that rains down upon the idiot denizens/worshippers of that damned city. Kudos to Doodle for braving it, while I sat upon my arse, listening to rants about maxillary artery grafts (what the hell?)(Kerry?).

Food was needlessly exorbitant, however we did have a Whole Foods at the end of the resorts shopping district. This was indeed a novelty for me, since I am clearly the last person in Tucson to embark on a shopping spree here. It's a good thing I was miles from home, otherwise the Bi-Polar in me would have really stepped up to the plate and overstocked the fridge, freezer, cupboards and bathroom. (Yes, the "crazy" in me did escape around the cheese display, where, when faced with all the creamy oozy delicacies my pant accidentally fell off.) (Once again, a hearty thank you to Doodle for covering for me on that one).

New foods tried? Jeri didn't care for it, but I did. Inside the hotel, we ate at a little Irish Pub, Fados. Over a pint of Guinness, I ate Jeri's Black and White Pudding. I thought it was tantalizing, and knew Jeri was wrong when she kept insisting that the White was Pig balls/scrotum. So the Black was made from blood.....it was still good.

Ever since my years in California, I've always enjoyed Fatburger. $19 for a burger though? Pshaw. Oh, and it was pretty sad/nauseating to see all the people shoving money (via tickets) into their respective slot machines. That of course doesn't mean I didn't give it a whirl:

See, I'll hook up the Video Poker (I think this was Deuces Wild mode)


And even temporarily broke the house


But let's face it, real gaming is done like this


Or in attack mode, whooping ass on the Doodle

In exchange for her patience with my gaming (Note: Doodle was also seen driving cars/riding bicycles etc), we set off into the scorching, disparaging heat to seek out none other than this guy:


Ok, truthfully, it was


On the way, we also stopped off for a requisite beer pose


Speaking of which, did you notice the beer in Jeri's hand earlier? If not, it may have something to do with the size of her hands, as well as the webbing of her fingers:


The ceiling at the Bellaggio was very nice indeed,

And so was the conservatory, but really, how is one supposed to photograph those?


Am I leaving anything out? Thank god for the bus, the massive amounts of lox I greedily consumed every morning, the passion-orange mojito, Bose Wave Radio in the hotel room, bubblebaths, $48 bottles of Grey Goose (1/2 liter), free and nearly constant bottled water from the hotel staff, every single thing about the hotel, my employer for sending me to the hotel, hand holding with the Doodle (did you see her hands?) Tollhouse Cookies straight from the source, the lions at the MGM, the fact that my escalator anxiety is back again (down only), and probably much much more.

Ok then. Next month, it's back to Ann Arbor.

June 09, 2007

Dear Diary: Outing Jeri

[Ed. Hopefully this doesn't crash a certain Mac out there.]

So, without further ado, I present to you a small piece of video footage that was slipped to me by Mr James "J", perhaps as retribution for Jeri refusing to eat, put the phone back, whatever. Anyway, what you are about to see is fairly self explanatory, some Iron Maiden ala Jeri, some dork on the guitar, possibly Kerry working the beats, and yes, me playing the bass. No wait...take that back...that dude is playing more like my brother would have been. Clearly I would have been in the pantry eating mustard and playing the recorder(s).

Oh, and did I mention CS3 Web Premium is in the house?

May 18, 2007

Dear Diary: Hot Leather

Is there an update anyone? Perhaps....oh...yes, clearly Dwooble and Kerry are not going to pen this weeks entry, so I will. And what exactly will I discuss? The demise of my brother's hero, Mr. Falwell? No. The retirement of the Barker fellow - which, I had been hoping would turn out to be the much tattooed chap from the tv show, instead of the Price is Right man. So, no, he won't be discussed.

Upcoming things of import though:

1. Jeri and I are heading to that Las Vegas place in a few weeks (simply because we want to escape the heat). I anticipate she and Mrs. K-Dog will do a bit of shopping.

2. Quite shortly after that, K-Dog and I are headed for Ann Arbor for insight into one of his most favourite of anatomical subjects. I'm sure that I'll be kicking his shins a number of times, and gawking at the flecks chunks of fat adhering to his beard.

3. Speaking of fat, it does appear that the rascal who burgled our bungalow was pinched by the DEA this last week. I was not expecting the thug to be a woman. Nor was I expecting her to look like Oprah.

4. Butterfly Lovers is coming along swimmingly. Over on the Playlist, it's track #4. Yeah, you may notice that the first few tracks are from the latest Machine Head release. Jeri's choice!

5. Tony will die this week. He's got to. Just like this Jordan girl needs to get her ass off that show Dwooble watches while I fling cats around.

Hi!

April 29, 2007

Dear Diary: Day of Princessing

Doodle's last comment may not have made much sense to anyone here. Actually, I can't see why it would make sense to anyone here, except for me of course. What the youth was looking for was a photo she had taken of me, her uncle and one of my (many) heroes (and I don't mean K-Dog, Burton Bell, Melissa Rivers, Tonya Harding, or Mr Obama). No, said hero would be none other than the one and only Mr. Larry David larry david. There is a story behind this photo, and so here we go.

It was a few years ago, Jeri dragged me out to California - as if the time served in the Orange County Penal System wasn't enough to break my spirit. Actually, the joke was on her...it was her family we were visiting. As our jetliner landed, I remember feeling my epiploic apendidcies tearing off, as the devil called California (in this case the, subdemon called Los Angeles) reached out to grab my soul and pull me into it's palm tree laden hell. Once again, I ignored the selfish whine of the demon (this time appearing as a flock of happy go lucky L.A. denizens), grabbed Jeri, and our pretentious rental car, and headed North to West Hollywood and the safety of Fast Eddie's "As Republican As You Can Get" arms.

I mainly kept to myself, letting Jeri and her fams reuinte, get all loveydovey and so forth. It got a bit nauseating a few times, but really that was only when her dad would speak of politics, utter racial epithets, praise Bush for murdering the non Christians etc. But I bit my lip and cheeks, because I didn't want to miss out on my chance to hopefully meet Larry David. And this meeting, was hopefully going to be facilitated by none other than Jeri's Uncle Al.

I kept checking the clock in the room, in eager anticipation of Al's arrival home. Apparently he was working on some sort of Pilot for a new show. This one involving the antics of a dysfunctional family. (This would later become known as The War At Home). I didn't care about any of that, I just wanted to find out if he A) Knew Larry David, B) Knew where Larry David lived and C) Could help fill in some blanks in my Larry David scrapbook.

Finally....finally the knock at the door was heard. The Al stepped in, and sweetly embraced his niece. (There's a certain tv character modeled after young Doodle by the way). I let The Al make the rounds of the room, and then pounced on him.

For a man of smaller build, he flung me off pretty hard.

So, I waited, and then over dinner, (at a *famous* diner, where Jeri ordered a $13.00 sandwich, and ignored it), I began with my litany of questions for The Al. Try as he might to shrug them off, ignore them, talk around them, use the old "he never comes to this side of the hill" line, I wasn't going to give up.

This sort of attack went on at every meal we had with The Al (2-3/day), until I finally broke the man down. Towards our last day, Jeri and I were forced to attend a luncheon at some sort of shishi, "Look at me I'm a Republican and hate blacks too" restaurant. I went outside to clear my head of all the elephant shit, and saw The Al was doing the same. (He's not a hater of the American people either). "Hey Moishe," he said. (He always calls me that). "I wanted to show you something."

And from around the numerous SUV's, came Larry David. I pounced on him too, and he, was nowhere near as strong as The Al.

And that, in a nutshell is the story behind the photo, my encounter with Larry David, and how I learned that one time God took a shit and created California. And the Republican Party.

April 21, 2007

Dear Diary: Molten Sporks

Last night Jeri and I went down to th ice skating rink - something that we don't embark on very often, most likely due to the repeated Tonya Harding comments, the sweater I wear in the rink and probably the fact that I can't stay on my feet for more than 12 seconds (a new record by the way). [On a side note, Jeri is often heard moaning "why...why...why?!" from the media room. Now, either she's mocking Nancy "The Cunt" Kerrigan, or she's bemoaning my presence in the house. I lean towards Nancy. And so does Melissa.]

How was that for a digression? And the whole gist of the story was going to be pertaining to the nachos, and the subsequent spilling of the tray, cheese in Jeri's hair....and now that I've gotten off track, I'm not sure how to get back on.

Now, the truly incredible update is that Jeri found a few photographs of the ever gorgeous Mary Kate & Ashley....and she not only didn't throw them away, she brought them home, and placed them proudly and prominently on the fridge. I keep pinching myself, thinking this can't be real, what have I done, is she going to throw them away or worse....tear them. But no, the duo is still there looking sexy and coquettish. Mmmm.

As far as any *real* updates, yes I will be sending additional funds towards the *government* in the hopes that it is misappropriated and used to murder additional people, and to the local **government** so that it hopefully be used in other ways besides the children. Let's face it, they're not going to get any smarter here. Let's just make abortion retroactive and mandatory for those born say, post 2000? And we in Arizona will just rely on other states to step in and take control.

I like Obama's laugh.

February 27, 2007

Dear Diary: Hengefeld & Wolcot

So once again Frau Doodle and I made the journey to the mecca just North of here. She was in a little better spirits on the drive, it was either the fact that she wasn't holding in a very feminine 2ml of urine, or the fact that I wasn't releasing an endless stream of babble as we sat behind (yet another) highway "incident" involving broken cars, flipped cars and a very bad day for somebody's family. Regardless, we finally made our destination, (okay so the drive took over 4 hours, and we were very late for the "appointed time for the exhibit"), the Arizona Science Center, where incidentally, the notorious K-Dog had some of his wares on display. Very nice job Kerry!

Now some of the people attending Kerry's World O' Body's were absolute fucking morons. Clearly, they drove up from Tucson. (And I'm not talking about the fat bald guy who was undressing his wife to demonstrate further anatomy). (Nice job VisceraDoodle!). It could have been the teenage whore lambasting her father for the exact time they would leave this "gross" stuff, 'cuz she had plans. Or it could have been the father who was drilling the names of muscles into his 5 year olds head, as though the youth would somehow remove his finger from his nose, and become known as Doogie Howser ReDux.

Myself? I liked the corrosion cast of the lamb that Kerry did, and I liked the nervous system that Kerry had dissected out, and I liked the glass eyes on the people. (No, I didn't steal one Ms. Tragic...I was trying to get Jeri to steal stuff from the gift shop.)

I had a good time.

I also had a good time wandering through the rest of the museum with Doodle, playing with the science what nots and so forths, laughing as Jeri stood as tall as possible in her short coveralls, straining to convince me that she was 5'3.

Sigh. Did I mention that you have to bring something called "cash" for the parking garage? What the fuck is "cash", that shit is sooooo Winter 1998.

Well you need cash. Your parking ticket validation means you have to pay $1. And sweet jesus, they do not take debit, nor do they take credit. They (and by they, I mean this surly wench of a fifteen year old), are adamant about their $1. Cash. I of course had no cash. Hello? I'm Mr. Bi-Polar who is unable to maintain any semblance of financial responsibility whatsoever, so I clearly cannot be trusted with cash? Remember?

Princess Cashier was absolutely horrified to learn that we didn't have cash, didn't have $1 in the ashtray (there was some burnt VIntage Syrian...). The look of shock was priceless, but then she curled her lip and hissed "what do you mean you don't have caassshhh? I killed the engine, and backtracked to a few months ago when things weren't quite "right" with me. I got as far as the twitchy symptoms, when she put out her hand and gave us further directions.

I was asked to hand over my ID while I drove to an ATM to get cash. That seemed curious to me so I stated the obvious, "I need my ID to drive to the ATM".

At this point, a young Phoenician (who apparently had been through the same process), came up to the window. She was paying for her fees, and wanted her ID back. She said, pretty clearly, "I'd like to pay for them as well".

Princess however, was busily completing a form, jotting down my drivers license, and Fry's VIP Card (2nd ID), and ignored the Phoenician. Finally another clerk came into the booth to see what the fracas was about, she Phoenician explained the situation, and the other clerk looked at Princess as if to say "what's difficult about that?"

Now, Jeri can do this best, but Princess looked up at the new clerk, and I shit you not, straight from the Exorcist came "I'm doing promise to pay form. I'm doing promise to pay."

So we finally made it out of there, and the rumbling coming from my sidekick told me I'd better get her some food.

Once upon a time, when I lived in the Phoenix area, this little dump of a sandwich shop became my favourite place to go. A few years ago, when Jeri dragged me up to one of the crematories up in Phoenix, I took her there, and oh how she squealed with delight. Eerily, she and Kerry squeal at the exact same pitch.

Anyway, this is where I had my heart set on eating. And on the corner where it used to be, my heart fell out (ok it didn;t fall out, but something did loosen). Resting in it's place was now a mexican restaurant, and a mexican hair salon. What the fuck was this? Could the City of Phoenix not draft a memo about the closure and send it down to the denizens of this hovel?

Now the howling from Doodle's side of the car began.

I really think I tested fate that afternoon, by a) not having restocked the car with Jeri's Animal Crackers, or b) pulling into the first restaurant I saw. Somehow I did pull it off and we ended up at Barrio's Pizza, just down the street from the next stop, the Swedish Chapel of Ikea.

As soon as Jeri had her webbed fingers around a merlot, she was fine. But one does wonder, what the fuck was up with bringing the drinks with the pizza? That just seemed dumb. So very....Tucson-like.

Ikea was as always, a grandiose time. I drank a lot of coffee, and bought more plants for #1105 Facility. Batteries of course, because who else but us would drive 2 hours for batteries. (See above: Hello? I'm Mr. Bi-Polar who is unable to maintain any semblance of financial responsibility whatsoever, so I clearly cannot be trusted with cash? Remember?

And then I got to come home with my beloved.

And the following day?

To end our anniversary celebration, we saw Pilobolus perform here on campus. This filled me with a number of ideas to try out at home, I've been warned by Jeri that this is highly unacceptable (remember, I'm Mr. Bi-Polar okay?)

Hi!

January 28, 2007

Dear Diary: Now That The Smoke Has Cleared

It has been just a few weeks since new words (or rather newly formed sentences) have graced the pages of Visceraman. Recent events, while lending themselves perfectly to the blogging world, both in their tragedy, and in their lunacy, have me instead staring at the keyboard, not wanting to address, or comment on them at all. (The run on sentence of course, is perfectly a fuckin' ok!).

Give me another day and I'll be back in the saddle. Meanwhile, I'm going to have a piece of the cheesecake I lovingly crafted.

December 29, 2006

Dear Diary: I Can't Believe I Ate The Tinsel

(Ed. I was going to publish another anti-community, anti-kid article but when I looked up and saw the image of Christ in the dust covering the ceiling fan blade.....well.....WWKD?

The holidays are nearly over. Or, depending how you look at them, just beginning. I used to dislike New Years quite a bit. Too pretentious, too "Las Vegasy", (which for those readers who haven't had the opportunity to see Tucsonans act "Vegasy", well....you really are lucky. )

My New Years activity has been the same for the last few years now. Each year I look forward to it more and more. I make practical resolutions: leave Tucson, go horseback riding, hope for a raise, play as many games as possible, eat lots of fried and fatty foods, check out Sugarhill, learn lots of anatomy, have fun dissecting, be a good friend (which, is much easier now that the list has narrowed itself down considerably, and most importantly, remember to love and value the wife every day.

Yes, Jeri and Dr. Brooks would both say "Um....that's fine, but what about your medicine?"

Kerry would say "Sugarhill's fine, but what about the burro?"

New Year's is the only holiday that Jeri and I have any traditions yet. Those are:

  • Game and craft independently
  • Game together
  • Eat like Christ is coming in the morning
  • Drink champagne and dance, dance, dance
All from the safety of our living room. The cats hate it, mostly because I clap my hands a lot. Well, this year may be different, what with the lithium and so forth.

December 14, 2006

Dear Diary: So I stuck my finger in it...

My neglect of the visceraman1 community this last week, has not been because I don't like them, rather I've had nothing to say, and when staring at the page, I realize I hate the layout. There's just something about the layout that I don't like, I'm not sure what exactly I don't like about it, but I don't like it. (I should bring this up at the next meeting with my psychiatrist:

I've decided I really don't like my new layout, and because of that can't be bothered to write anything."

"Oh?"

"Right, I don't like it"

"So you don't like your new layout then?"

"Right."

"Why do you think that is?"

"I uh really have no idea, there's just something about it."

"I see. What don't you like about it?"

"I can't put my finger on it, there's just something wrong with it."

"Oh?"

"What are you writing?"

"So, you don' like your layout, but you're not sure what it is you don't like?"

"Right"

"Why do you think that is?"

"Huh?"

"What do you think is wrong with it?"

"Can I color in the book again?"

So long story short, there will be something new in the works over the next couple of weeks. Meanwhile, I will turn the story writing over to Kerry, who has offered to share his translation of Rudyard Kipling's, "The Just So Stories" with you.


December 01, 2006

Dear Diary: IE Sucks Balls

Granted, I should have just waited until the weekend to start making my changes but no, I thought I would go ahead and give things a go. Which reminds me....earlier in the week I mentioned to K-Dog, that I was going to be making some changes, and said something along the lines of "that really just means I'm going to fuck things up". And yes, things are a bit fucked up around here. Things were finally starting to come together, until I cracked open Internet Explorer to see how things were shaping up in that piss poor but highly prevalent browser. Internet Explorer, need I say more? Back to the drawing board for a bit. Please be patient.

**Updated: Ok so Internet Explorer 7.0, does support the image swap I needed. Fine. But....how many people are going to have updated?

And furthermore, what does K-Dog run on that Commodore of his....I saw him slip something into the tape drive once, and it was NOT QBert.

November 19, 2006

Dear Diary: Guess I Shouldn't Swallow It Dry

God this has been a long fucking um...fortnight. Fortunately, it's behind me, and though not all has been for the best, it's what the damned Universe wanted (or thought it wanted this time.) The weekend itself actually had an air of normalcy to it, which I will welcome with open, porky, flabby arms.

Something else I suppose I should have brought up to the team of physicians sent down from the Mayo Clinic (oh don't think they weren't the slightest bit pissed to find there really wasn't some rare neurological incident for their probing), is my frenzied Tivoing of my soaps.

Sure, K-Dog will probably curl up in a fit of sheer jealousy when he learns that I have over 25 hours of soaps recorded. Sure K-Dog, it sounds good, looks good and damned if it just doesn't make one feel all warm and tingly inside (just like Jeri does), but the sad truth is; when the fuck am I going to be able to watch all this? 25 hours of the gang from 90210, and no...I have to go to work, putz with the um....brain thing, or rather things, or rather 30something things. When will I fit this in?

I'll figure it out, you can count on it.

November 16, 2006

Dear Diary: So That's What It Tastes Like

Ardent readers will of course know that my brief absence has been due to participation in a recruiting mission for The Unification Church. This time, our travels took us through the Northern region of Nigeria, where I was reuinited with K-Dog's in-laws. I'll have more to say on this a bit later, trust me.

October 31, 2006

Dear Diary: Cloning Technology

As this was found lurking around the department today, I thought I'd take advantage of the situation and negotiate myself a raise; first by having them badger the dept. head for the raise, and when that failed, by citing harassment. As is standard procedure, what with the budget cuts and what not and so forth, I earned another 12 "Hug Points". (Only 437 more, and I can hug the Dean!)

(Well, actually a cardboard cut-out of the Dean....he has touching issues, but is working with my looneyguy on that.)

Dear Diary: Uh Oh

Today has been a bit trying for me to say the least. It feels like I've been building up energy inside for the last week or so, with some sort of a culmination occurring today.

This is a huge amount of energy; the sort of energy that when I saw looneyman today, I couldn't stop fidgeting, sliding feet, bouncing, and shredding my receipt on his futon. (I'm sure he was mortified and breathing into his paper bag behind the legal pad, even though I tried to pick up all the pieces several times, and of course shredding those as well.) Because of this, the attention was aimed at addressing that particular issue. Natually we discussed how this sort of energy level has built up many, many times over the years, and how this time, today, it was more than upseting me, but in fact frightening. Frightening because I don't have control over this, I don't know what's causing it, and don't know what I can do to stop it.

And that's just the selfish part of the fear.

Although I hear what Jeri says about the affect this is having on her; I don't, and probably will never truly understand how horrifying it must be for her. In a sense, I would think it would be quite similar to how I feel; not in control, not knowing what's happening from day to day, wondering if there will be an end to this, or will I be like this forever?

I'm angry about it. Angry at myself for being this way. Angry for not addressing anything, just shoving things inside for years and years and years. When we were discussing the building of energy, it was sadly apparent that this has occurred many many times in my life. It's easier to see when I reflect, but at those times, nothing felt "wrong", and especially not this chaotic. Am I turning into one of *those* people now?

October 30, 2006

Dear Diary: A River Runs Through It

OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG!!

Get this!

I came home the other day, and saw that one of my most favourite superstars of all time had been to my house. (No, not Burton Bell, and not Sheena Easton, but Melissa Rivers herself!

How can I be sure you ask? Silly Diary! She left her calling card on my door; a small white sticker with her autograph, and a lipstick kiss on it! Of course, my first instinct was to take it off the door, but as I didn't want to tear, or otherwise harm it, I left it on, and figured I'd wait until Administration came home and provided expert advice on how best to remove it. So I went inside, grabbed Volume XIV of my scrapbook series, and began to make a border for the page.

When Administration did come through the door, I expected some level of excitement from her, as she would have to see the sticker when she put her key in the door. I leapt to my feet, and began my "Happy Flappy Dance", (something my "crazy" doctor may want to know about, but doesn't...), and pounced on Administration with joyous cries of "Did ya see? Didja See!".

Administration lowered her face towards me, her mouth forming a vicious sneer, and her eyes narrowing to slits. "SEE FUCKING WHAT IDIOT BOY!" she hissed. (It should be noted that although a small bit of urine leaked from my you know what, this doesn't constitue peeing in my pants (not that there's anything wrong with that.)) I fell back onto the couch, and curled into my "Fetal Lamb" position (something else my "crazy" doctor doesn't need to know about.)

I pulled my thumb from my buccal cavity, and whimpered "Melissa Rivers was here Ma'am".

"WHO?" hissed Administration.

"Melissa Rivers, from the E! channel" I said in a barely audible tone.

"You mean that horse mouthed cunt, whose only claim to fame is being the daughter of that pretentious bitch Joan Rivers?" barked Administration.

"You are referring to the female Mr. Ed, who is only able to yammer about who's hot or not, who wears good and bad outfits, and other shallow jibber jabbe?" she contined. Her face was inches from mine, and she was stabbing her finger into my chest as she talked....or rather bellowed,

"Y..Yes ma'am" I said. I turned and buried my face into the pillow (the one Administration spilled wine on some time ago, but quickly decided it was me that was to blame for it.

"Well I've got something for you then Pee Pee pants!" she said. She tossed a wadded up piece of white paper at me. My heart sank as I realized what it was. Gone was my autographed sticker. Gone was my piece of Melissa Rivers.

I rose from the couch, ran into the bedroom and cried myself to sleep.

Sometime during the night, I awakened to gentle caressing of my head.

"Cute guy!" "I'm home!" I heard whispered in my favourite voice. I sat up and shook my head. "What the hell is this?" I thought. I stared at the clock, and saw that it was nearly 7:00, almost dinnertime.

Whoa...what about the sticker I thought. Had I been dreaming? Was it the strict regimen of Trazodone/Lexapro/Bupropion/Haldol my "crazy" doctor had me on? I was suddenly dizzy and felt faint. I reached into my box/nightstand, and got out my paper bag. I slowly breathed in and out, trying to pull my thoughts together.

"Look what I found on the door!" Administration exclaimed. "Your Melissa Rivers came to see you, did you see her, or were you on the phone with Kerry again, and stayed late at work?"

I gasped as I saw the sticker in her hand. Not crumpled, not torn, but lovingly removed and laminated in archival plastic. I breathed heavier into my bag.

It had been a dream! Not about Melissa Rivers coming to see me - but just the other nonsense. I jumped out of bed and snatched my sticker. I placed it carefully in my scrapbook for eternal safekeeping.

"Oh cute guy..." Administration cooed. "Let's get you cleaned up okay?"

Apparently the part where I dreamt that pee pee leaked out, wasn't so dreamlike after all.

October 24, 2006

Dear Diary

In my inbox today, amid the threatening letters from DMORT, was a fairly innocuous message. I opened it up and began reading. Lines like "You are one of my heroes...." "I quiver in your presence...." filled the first few paragraphs. I checked the senders address again, (only my brother sends email like that). Nope, not NoahPoah. I shrugged my shoulders and continued reading.

I absolutely cannot bring myself to repeat the phrase that was penned. It was a horrifying experience just to read it, much less allow such blasphemy to leave my lips.

How fucking dare you Mr. Mister!!

As President of the Southern Arizona Chapter of the Carly Simon Association, and as a member of the Board of Drectors for the Western Region Committee for the Preservation of All Things Carly; I speak not only from my heart, but from the hearts of nearly 800 proud Carly Simon fans. This is an outrage, and actions such as this cannot be tolerated, not only does it hurt Carly's feelings, but it is just MEAN MEAN MEAN!! (The extra explanation mark means I am really mad!!!)

Flicking off "However Much I Booze", which was currently playing on Pandora, I switched to my Carly Only channel.
Rather appropriately, the song "Comforting to Know" came on. The line "There's a shadow looking like a rainbows halo" immediately brought cheer to my heart.

Following came a medley of favourites, "Winnie the Pooh", "Itsy Bitsy Spider", and "Uncle Peter". This brought back memories of the summer my parents took Jeri, myself and my brother to a winos house in Ft. Bowie. Both Noah and Jeri couldn't stop singing those songs! Cackling, giggling and gas passing were constant throught the trip!

Anyway. Anyone who doesn't love Carly, hasn't really appreciated the intensity of "In The Name Of The Hundred Acre Wood", or relished the haunting melody of "Hurt".

And besides, the tickets were $150 and I got an autograph from Carly too!

October 11, 2006

Fond Memories

Mere moments after I had finally tested Kerry's patience with my phone call yesterday, I remembered something I had forgotten to mention. My first thought was, "well, let me call him right back". As my porky stump like fingers fumbled on the keypad, hitting the 8 and the 0 at the same time, I had a vision of Kerry, finally begin released from the stammerings and mumblins of Joshua; uttering a "Jesus!", and either unplugging the phone, or scurrying out of his EMPIRE just as fast as his grown up sized feet could move. (I suspect the latter, and in my mind Kerry's right about the 8 foot mark in height, which compared to my 5'4 frame, is "grown up size").

The thought was still with me this morning, but I was pretty sure Kerry would not make the same mistake as yesterday, and therefore left the phone unplugged. Or perhaps in pieces.

Let's get to the point then shall we?

In the early 90's (when home invasion robberies were the hip thing), I was leaning on the bar of The Mason Jar in Phoenix enjoying a frosty beer, having just performed with the ill-fated but now notorious band, Megalith. As the final act (Master____sound clip was putting the final touches on their set up, I plucked my sweat soaked shirt from my chest, and in doing so, glanced across the bar. There, in the corner, was a slight glow emanating. . My eyes were drawn to the glow. I grabbed my beer, and slowly made my way toward the glow, curious about what was causing it. In just a few steps, I could see the faint outline of a woman smoking a cigarette. Moving closer still, I could see that she had long blond hair, and looked very familiar to me. But who, and from where?

If you've ever been to the Mason Jar, you know that it's size and reputation weren't on the same level. It really only took about 6 steps before I was nearly on top of the woman. However, having been the subject of a recent incident in the Scottsdale area, I didn't want to seem too aggressive. I stood to her side, and said "I think I know you from somewhere". As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized what an inane thing that was to say; a phrase that could, and would imply that I was making the cheesiest attempt to hit on her. I slapped my head, and sat on the floor.

Instead of bolting away or worse, a kind face looked down on me, smiled and offered me her outstretched hand. Her skin was immediately warming, a sense of gentility flowed through me. Even in the dark, fog filled bar (a leftover remnant of a certain band member going just a bit overboard with the fog), the purest blue I'd ever seen shined down on me.

"My name is Tonya, Tonya Harding" she said.

I was speechless. Here I sat, in a puddle of Schlitz, holding the sweet hand of THE Tonya Harding. I was flabbergasted. I stammered something faintly resembling "My name is Joshua, and yes, yes I know who you are!", what she probably heard was along the lines of perhaps Chewbacca. She paid no mind to it, and pulled me to my feet. She was indeed a strong woman. She guided me to the seat next to me.

Downing the rest of my Schlitz, I gained the courage to ask what brought her to Phoenix. It turns out that she was in town to rally support for the "Save the Australian Rock Lobster" foundation, and would be in town for just a few days to make some mall appearances. She again took my hand, slowly caressed it, and said "So what's a single gal to do in this big big city Joshua?"

I thought for a minute, "is she?", "does she?" "nah, not Tonya Harding...with me?"

"I know a little place we can go" I said.

She held my shoulder, head resting gently on my shoulder and we walked to the might Ranger that sat glistening in the parking lot.

The rest of the night was a magical event to say the least. They say a gentleman never kiss and tells, but fuck that. I'm no gentleman!

Me and Tonya, yeah....we went to Castles & Coasters.

October 09, 2006

4VI79

In recent writings I've behaved in a unappreciable and clearly pernicious manner, to which it is quite likely that I have hurt someones feelings. WIthout rationale, my comments, though not originally intended as such, were horribly truculent, and demeaning to this person and to my character. To provide a simple apology seems overly minute, if not belittling.

I am however, very sorry.

October 06, 2006

Strawberries, Olives, and Mangoes

"You lazy bastard!" she cried. "Is there some reason why you can't be bothere dto write about our trip?" she asked. "You embarassed about something?" Jeri sneered, her hand closing into a tight fist.

I can take a hint.

My friend Big Gary was finally tying the know to his love of the last decade, Dawn, at the Tonto National Monument. As Dawn happens to be Jeri's oldest friend, of course we were going to be making the trek and seeing that said ceremony went off without a hitch.

Friday, after puttering for seemingly forever around the house, watching Jeri make sure the auto feeders for the indoor and outdoor residents were full, and set in place we loaded up the car and headed out for Rim Country. No sooner had we pulled out of the driveway, than Jeri ripped her chewy thing out of her mouth and said "I'm hungry, are we almost there?". So after filling the car with petrol, there was a slight delay while we stopped off at this Wendy's joint for a happy meal for Jeri.

And then, then we could finally head out towards the highway. I had opted to take the route that didn't include Phoenix, driving instead along AZ 77, through Globe and the whatnot. Of course, for the trip I had packed an ample supply of Fox & Hound, Vermont Maple Cavendish, my beloved Vintage Syrian, and some Pastry for Jeri. In doing so however, I also forgot to pack underwear, socks, changes of clothing. "Just like camping!"

I've never figured who, or why anyone would choose to live in Globe AZ, or Mammoth AZ for that matter. Globe does have a charming downtown, seemingly right out of the '50's, but what exactly do you do there? It's hot, it's desolate, and aside from the downtown, pretty fuckin ugly. We stopped at the local KFC so I could change baby Jeri's big girl panties, and quickly headed back out. (It should be noted here, that Jeri didn't believe me that check-in stopped at 8:00.)

Roosevelt Lake is a magnificent sight for sure. I'm sure it would be a splendid place to canoe about, fishing line tagging along, Jeri quietly taking photos, reading, writing poetry, working on her macrame etc.

As darkness fell upon us, we navigated along the mountain road towards Payson. Payson is brilliantly lit at night by the center of Payson, the casino. We didn't dare stop in Payson then however, as the 8:00 deadline was fast approaching. Because there was a deafening growl coming from Jeri's belly, we were keeping our eyes out for restuarants to eat at, after check in.

Through the village of Pine AZ we passed (poplulation 12), and a few minutes later, the glow of Strawberry was upon us. Yes! Finally, civilization, and a thriving metropolis at that! (Strawberry has a population of 6.) (And yes, we met all 6).

The inn we stayed at was very charming, and the innkeeper was very kind, jovial, polite and informative to say the least. She began ticking off the names and locations of various eateries nearby; the look on Jeri's face when she heard they all closed at 8 brought tears to my eyes. There was 1 location however and I'll talk about that later.

Continue reading "Strawberries, Olives, and Mangoes" »

September 18, 2006

One Huge Helping Of Shit

Or, a much need update of matters, since I clearly haven't bothered to write anything in nearly a month. Utterly fucking unnecessary, and sadly bringing shame to Sweet Jeri. Instead of pussy footing around with some half assed excuses for my laziness, lets get right to the ammends:


Violin

A couple weeks ago, my mentor was having me play the Beethoven (yes it's still around) with piano accompaniment. Afterward the pianist (his wife) and he were mentioning that I was ready to play this piece for someone. I said, "Like my wife?" They said gave a positive response, and said that we should do this on a Sunday afternoon, and that my parents might like to come. Okay I thought. No problem.

And then, at my last lesson that innocent Sunday performance was turned into "You'll play on this date, for this group of people, at this location." "Got that ya fat baldy?"

And what could I say?

Sleep

I don't believe the sudden announcement of a public performance has enhanced my sleep at all. Rather, it may be a new factor into my insomnia/poor sleeping ability. I discussed this at length with my personal physician on Friday. I told him that when I do sleep, it was as though I was using a nicotine patch to quit smoking. I would have prolific, lucid dreams, but would be in a state of awakeness during this. So, when I was "asleep", I was really "awake". He frowned (as he is want to do), jotted a few notes, and asked a few "like what?" and "why do you think that is?" and "go on..." kind of questions before adding Torazodone as a sleep aid to my menu of pills to pop. In addition to bringing more laughter to Jeri and I from our pharmacist at Walgreens (who is extremely kind, and good spirited), it has brought about the ability to have prolific, lucid, bizarre, inane dreams while sleeping. Good God! These dreams are pretty fucking weird at best. What I should do, is turn this site into a huge dream journal.....I tell you....they're weird.

Kitchen

This weekend I made my very first apple pie from scratch. I don't like how the crust turned out, and not just because it didn't hold together well, and is way too crumbly. I don't like the taste of the crust. The inside is okay, but Jeri and I agreed that the apples need something to hold them together. I took this recipe by the way, from the Pie & Pastry Bible. It's called "The Best American Apple Pie". I think next time I will make "The Absolute Shit Kicker Apple Pie N Shit". It's bound to be tasty, and it's from the same author.

Alson on Saturday I made Jeri an abundance of pastries to eat. Apricot, peach and almond delights. Some using puff pastry, and others phyllo dough. I like the almond ones the best, Jeri prefers the apricot and peach. They're all quite sexy to eat though, but this is a lot of dessert for Jeri to eat by herself. (I don't eat a lot of sweets.)

Briar

There's still time before those involved have to submit formal reviews of the Blend of the Month (Hamborger Veermaster). It's truly a delicate flake tobacco, easily rubbed out, and almost "too dry". It's a Virginia blend, pretty nutty, with a light sweetness to it. I enjoyed the first 2 helpings I had. BUT...wasn't prepared for the little "extra" nicotine kick provided. Whew....I got the chills pretty quickly and pretty strong. So, this is definitely not a daily blend, but a every other weekend kind of blend. It's got a nice taste though.

The best news though, is smokingpipes.com had HH Vintage Syrian Latakia available. I ordered 2 tins, giving me a backup of 3 (and I've only made a slight dent in my open tin). I should order another pair before it's gone. I also ordered Carnival, which has intrigued me, and Baklava, both McClelland products. I enjoy another of their aromatics, Pastry, so these should be good as well. I think Jeri will like both of them. I need to order more Celtic, but this joint doesn't carry Altadis products. I think Jeri will flip out if I order another tin of Rose of Latakia.

Extended Family

The felines Jeri adopted are doing very well. They're eating pretty close to the back door, and are a delight to watch. Sadly, 1 of the two black kittens has disappeared. I like to believe he was found and lives indoors now. The father of these kids, is also now eating with the family. I like him a lot. Jeri was able to get a hold of Mixed Media, just long enough to try and pull the cactus from his/her chin. (I haven't seen balls, but it may because he/she scampers around quite a bit. Jeri was scratched up, but damn, she's a good girl. Diego, well...Diego is becoming more than just a mere shadow to me. I have this little guy wrapped around my finger...perhaps it's the ninjitsu training I do with him. (I started the ninjitsu training because I read that it would help with his hyper active anal glands.)

The Gang

One of my dearest friends is an avid fan of Y&R, OLTL, GH, so I will now confess to my soap.

Thanks to the magic of Tivo, and the Soap Network, I am able to revisit the gang on a regular basis. Fortunately, I picked up right about where I had left off, although I wouldn't have minded starting in a little sooner. My hope is that once the series ends (it's no longer in production), that they will rebroadcast from the Pilot, and my friends Brandon, David, Steve, and Donna from West Beverly will stay on forever.

Yeah, I watch 90210, I know you do also.

August 22, 2006

Photoriffic

If I wasn't so lazy, I'd be including some photos with a few of these entries. I suppose that may imply that I've been too lazy to upload photos, or even just too lazy to plug the memory stick into the laptop. No, I assure you it is because I'm too lazy to go to the closet, get the camera, charge up the battery, take a picture and then upload the photos. Because of my inherit laziness, you will not get to see the simple artisan loaf I made a few weeks ago, neither of my pugliese loafs, none of my cupcakes, nary a peanut butter roll, no chocolate cookies, no crepes, no lasagna, no pancakes, and no chicken wellington. Also absent from the photo directory are the images of the 4 new additions to our little family (Mixed Media, Esther, Spookie and Sanchez), ok, 6 additions if you count Helmut and Grainger.

I've also been lazy about eradicating the weeds in the front (and back) yards, although it's hard to be motivated when it's still raining outside. I did attack them with the weed eater and spritz them with a bit of poison.

August 09, 2006

Flying

August is sure flying in and out pretty quickly.

I haven't done much gaming at all. It's almost shameful, until you factor in the 27 books I've read since June 21. My reading history shows 31, but 4 were crafting related, clearly the work of the curly headed wife. That's pretty good I'd say. It harkens back to an era when my 6th grade teacher would present me with a Book It coupon for a free personal pan pizza from Pizza Hut. No pizza this time around, but the curly head did buy me my first meerschaum pipe. (I'd link to a picture of it, but it's long gone already). I dearly love the pipe, though it feels so fragile in my porky, clumsy hands. Celtic (a blend I've yet to review, but also greatly enjoy) seems to find its way in it more frequently than any of the other blends. I suspect that it has to do with it being one of the wife's favourite aromas that comes from my pipes.

Work is steady, slightly elevated on the aggravation front over there, but Kerry's back so I've got his wisdom in my box.

July 31, 2006

Ballaster

That weekend flew by pretty fucking quickly.

As promised, I took Sweet Jeri to a few antique shops, this was fine, except that my plans included dragging her to about 17 of them, however we only ended up going to 3. 4 maybe. Okay 5.

I get confused about that, since one of the stores seems to be several stores all under the same roof - it's not - but it does make for a lot of junk sifting. They did have a Savinelli Executive estate pipe that looked to be in pretty good shape, though the stem sat just a bit loose - I've read about people treating the tenon and shaft with beeswax to tighten things up. I decided not to get the pipe, and instead was going to order a Meerschaum from a place I had found off eBay. We puttered through the stores, I harrassed a great deal, you know. Then we hit East Tucson's favourite mecca, Bed Bath & Beyond. I needed to stop here, since my first loaf of bread turned out pretty good (that's another entry), I then decided it would be no trouble to whip up some tortillas and needed a griddle. (I'm not sure how best to word that sentence).

I got the griddle and home we went. The tortillas turned out wierd, more like store bought tortillas. Really white, thick, and chewy. They wouldn't be bad, except that's not what I was trying to make. Apparently, (I discovered after a bit more research), what I'm wanting to make are Sonoran Style Tortillas. What did I make then? Texas tortillas. Ok.

Later, I was perusing the meerschaum site, when Jeri appeared, curls amiss. She set her credit card down on my belly and said, "I got it cuteguy". I've truly have the best wife in the world!

2 things

Jeri's taken to watching Rockstar: Supernova and I have but two things to say about the show.

  • I despise Tommy Lee, and have no respect for him or anyone who admires him.
  • Brook Burke is pathetic.

July 12, 2006

Thought Patterns?

I'm a bit astounded at the manner in which some people function in life. Jeri, during her lunch time phone call (she was home on reprieve for a few hours), mentioned that our hose for the front yard was now AWOL. What kind of mindset does someone have to steal a water hose? It's not an expensive hose, I don't think there is such a thing; but what prompts someone to see a hose and think "Hey, I can do some serious watering with that, it's mine!", and then come over and (since there's absolutely zero cover to hind behind), unscrew the hose and make off with it. I suppose, since I never took logic, I'm going to have to look to Jeri and Kerry to answer this one, but it does seem like poor logic to me. It's our hose. I went to the store, put the hose in the cart, paid for the hose and brought it home. The key phrase there is, paid for the hose. The hose is blue as opposed to the fairly standard green, but should I wander through the neighborhood to see if I see it, what do I do when I find a blue hose. Can I assume it's mine, and take it back? No, and how can I prove it's our hose? For kicks, I should call the police and tell them there's been a robbery - I wonder how they'd react when they came out and found it was just a hose that was stolen.

I bet if I find the house with our hose, there's some fishing equipment lying next to it. Fuckers. Fuckers. Fuckers.

I am enjoying Rainbow 6: Lockdown a bit.

June 30, 2006

Friday...

God it's nice being at home at this time of day. I went into work this morning, got what I wanted to do, and almost feel "ahead" of things. Naturally, this just means all hell will break loose over the weekend...but other than typing that, I'm not going to give another thought. It's a good feeling, just walking out the door at High Noon, and knowing that all I have to do this afternoon is a bit of practicing, a lesson and some piping throughout. I get to see my lovely wife in a few hours, and get to watch her stuff her cheeks full of beans. I'll take her to her supply store, and perhaps return some videos as well. It's quite peaceful! I have a four day weekend ahead of me, and a sizable stack of books waiting for me to leaf through; it's going to be hot outside - the perfect temperature actually for sprawling out with a good book and cold beer. (God I can hear myself getting fat).

My much anticipated package arrived yesterday from Habana Premium, I've yet to write a review of Armada so I won't dwell too deeply on it's finer qualities, just know it leaves a warm buttery taste in my mouth. Sunza Bitches is good too, I have to give it more time and thought to describe it.

Sonora Quest Laboratories is a wretched establishment.

June 26, 2006

Wife Swapping

It's been quite a few years since I had walked through the Swap Meet here in Tucson. The last time I went, it was stiil on the corner of Tanque Verde and Grant, and denizens of Tucson's eastside hadn't been converted to the sheep that they are today. After making sure Jeri got her nachos, and the sun went down we headed out towards the Swap Meet. On the way there, I drove through Mario's old neighbourhood - although I couldn't find Parkside Dr., I showed Jeri the infamous reefer truck used for storing dead border crossers, and showed her the warehouse where my mom insists I was involved in drug trafficking. (It was a Frito-Lay warehouse, I'm not sure where she got the idea that we were trafficking...).

The swap meet sucked for the most part; for some reason every other booth was selling mexican chips and candy, and the alternate booths were selling cheap toys and stereo equipment from Mexico. On occasion, we would stumble across a booth selling bonafide junk. In one of these booths, Jeri got herself a metal pail for her painting gear: we were educated a bit about this pail, it was made right here in the U.S.of A! Can you believe that shit? A pail made in the U. S. of A.!

At another booth, I picked up an estate pipe - I made mention of that in a prior entry comment; thanks to the kind folks at ASP, I've learned that it's an oom pall, made by the Medico Pipe Company. It didn't need much cleaning up at all, and smokes pretty good. It's a pretty pipe. Soft, smooth and elegant. I got Jeri some dead bugs, and a compass as well. She was a bit upset that I bought these for her, but was easily distracted by the man telling stories about mining camps in New York, and how the City of Tucson was hoping to raze all developments existing East of Alvernon as they were an embarrassment to the City. (I support them on this, but not on the planting of fruit trees downtown).

June 15, 2006

Confirmed

I do have a lesson tomorrow. Maybe now I can get the Beethoven monkey off my back and move on to something different. Anything would be a nice change....well, almost anything, I was never that big of a Mozart fan.

It's been quite around Visceraman1 lately I know, it's been quiet around the workplace without any wisdom from Kerry, or love notes from Sweet Jeri. I haven't been doing much gaming as of late, the last thing I played was the DaVinci Code game; fun at first, but grew old after a few hours. This is okay, since I have a stack of books to read, and the library is making quick work of my request list. Nothing too serious in my book queue currently, catching up on quite a few missed Kellermans, and a John Irving I overlooked. There's an Augusten Burroughs (one of the funniest men alive), but Jeri snatched that away pretty quickly....it must be pretty good since she hasn't stomped into the room and flung it at my head (like the Confederacy of Dunces).

I must have been dreaming pretty good the other night, I woke up absolutely drenched in sweat. The only thing I've recalled dreaming from that night involved dermestid beetles....

**Update:
I did have my lesson, and got to play with the piano for most of the lesson as well! No, the Beethoven will still be heard throughout the house for the next week, and then....hopefully it will disappear. My starting the lesson with "Can we get rid of this now?" may not have been the thing to say. The lesson was free too....to quote Jeri, "Jews like a good bargain!"

June 06, 2006

A Wall

The Utah National Guard is moving faster than anything ever happens in Tucson, with construction on a wall to prevent and deter illegal immigrants. I caught this moments after Kerry leaves for the day, so I didn't have a chance to ask him about this. Is immigration causing a problem in Utah? Not living there (What the fuck Tom?), I obviously have no idea if they are facing the same problems as we are here in Pima County. It seems like a long trek from Mexico, one that I (had my grandparents not come here) would have been far too lazy to make, but perhaps it does make sense. There's got to be an abundance of work available in the hospitality industry, especially in the winter, so it does seem like a logical, less crowded environment for them to head for. Again, I have no idea whether there is a growing problem or not, so I will leave that to be answered by my sage friend Kerry.

June 05, 2006

Naked

Jeri likes to complain about the fact that scantily clad women will be used to sell just about anything. Toothbrushes, hamburgers, cars, beer and even insecticide. Personally, I don't see anything wrong with it. I'm going to buy a product whether I get to see boobies or not. Boobies however, certainly make the commercial seem like less of an intrusion into my evening. A nice ass shot, well...for that I may just find myself at the store buying Thomas English Muffins.

This website, should complete the package though Sweet Jeri:

Cofani Funebri (Check out the *Fashion Line*)

Italian caskets coffins at their very best. I was set to order two, but a certain fellow in Utah apparently bought their entire stock. Dammit Kerry!

June 01, 2006

A loyal fan

tonya hardingI had told Kerry that I would do my best to contact Tonya Harding to see about the possibility of setting up a web cam feed, or to see if she could send a few video clips - the real videos, not the "here I am skating around and around" that are available from her website. Of course, I headed over to her website, to see what sort of contact information I could find. After being briefly delayed by some of the skating videos (who doesn't like short skirts?), I started to suspect that her website was a hoax. An evil deed perpetrated by (I suspect) none other than Nancy "Why why why" Kerrigan. My first clue was this statement:

"It would be having enough money to go hunting and fishing and go to the big four-wheel-drive mud bogs," she says. "And every once in a while put on a really pretty dress and go to dinner at a place like Applebee's or something."

Now, true Tonya fans know that she's a classy chick. Granted her fame, fortune or sex appeal hasn't driven her to an elitist level, where she will only eat at 5 star, shi-shi restaurants, where she is spoon fed her consomme by an Argentenian elf (or Matt Rowloff if he's available. But Applebee's? Come the fuck on. Just how stupid do you think we are Nancy? And, a pretty dress? Tonya knows perfectly well that only those living on the East side of Tucson put on good clothes to wait 40+ minutes for cheese sticks, chicken strips, and Steam-Um sandwiches.

I have so far been unable to locate contact information, but I have posted a message to the website, first touting the wonders of Tonya, as well as requesting information about the possibility of receiving an autographed photo of her. If I'm able to get this photo, I suspect there will some trouble at home. That trouble of course being, Which photo gets to be placed in the shrine? My photo of Tonya, or Jeri's collection of Dog memorabilia.


May 31, 2006

Whay So

When Visceraman1 first reared it's ugly (and I mean UGLY) head a couple years ago now, it was in the form of a flash site. It came about shortly after returning from our honeymoon, with 700+ photos in tow, and a desire to post them in a public forum. Somehow in the course of this event, (or even slightly before), I had begun fumbling around with Adobe Nee: Macromedia's Flash program. This hooked me, and after I bombarded Jeri with several hundred .swf files of globes bouncing around the scree, animated words bouncing around, and a few more bouncing animals I began to take the shit seriously. Not being 100% dedicated to coding - I realized I had to also learn Photoshop, and since Jeri had taken to marking any email from me as spam, had to be able to get this crap on the internet.

Around this time, I was also burning out in the funeral industry. A "career" built upon repetition, no upward movement and lackluster pay was motivating me to look elsewhere for a source of income. Could I somehow incorporate my new found fascination with a new career path? All signs indicated a positive and emphatic yes. (We'll get to how wrong I was later). I sped down the path. Html, Xhtml, CSS, Flash/ActionScript were soon learned and (with the exception of really advance ActionScript), I felt I had enough strength behind me to muster. Along the way Visceraman1 evolved from a deeply hidden site on my ISP server, with 0 traffic on a good day (I've subtracted the 500 daily hits from my own browsing), to the beginnings of a portfolio site on my own dedicated server. (Not my own in truth, I of course found cheap webhosting).

The move to a new server also spawned the addition of a weblog to the Visceraman1 site. Now, in addition to the slurry of links that took them to giant mp3 players, paint the screen silly, a few attempts at game making, visitors could also read whatever it was that I felt necessary to post that day. And that was lame at best. (I know, not much better these days either). Soon, the weblog drifted off to a separate link, hidden away from most. This didn't last long. As I slowly realized I didn't quite have the makings of a "professional"web person, but rather that of a decent hobbiest (egos fall quick and hard), I decided fuck it, let's use this blog thing to force myself to write on a regular basis, and about varying topics.

This is actually harder than it seems. I used to go days/weeks without writing, because I had "nothing" to write about. When I would write, it leaned more towards, "The United States of America really doesn't give a damn about you or me", "The Tucson Police Department is a bunch of fucking keystone lackies with no sense of morality", or "Hey check out this shit I did with Photoshop". And those entries, were the better of the bunch. Periodically I would sit down, and force myself to write everyday. I would keep this up for great lengths, but stil I found my content lacking.

In retrospect, what has the evolution of Visceraman1 brought about? Less Flash (hell, I haven't opened the program in several months - I don't even know what the current version is), and less fanatical rantings about government misdeeds. Great. Don't think I'm stopping anytime soon - I just had to come up with something to say. I'm incredibly grateful for the change that did occur in my career however. Each day I'm presented with new challenges, new endeavors and I'm always learning more about the human body - a subject that has always humbled and amazed me. I still look forward to going to work, still smile each morning when I look up at the towering building, and even with the occasional bumps that line the day, I never regret my change.

May 25, 2006

Procrastination

I am supposed to be the great procastinator dammit. So what exactly are Jeri and Kerry waiting for before they forward their entry submissions? God only knows. Perhaps Jeri is waiting to see what sort of disaster I cause when applying the additional paint to the budoir? (Yes, we're painting...again.). Or perhaps Kerry has been busy buying supplies to work on Jeri's crafting room, and is wanting to keep a log? We shall see.

The site changes are pretty well finished. The audio player is back, although I've made zero changes to it's .xml file, so it's still set to Jeri's favourite Transgression tracks. I was going to make a few changes to it the other day, but reasons I don't fully understand, I can no longer use iTunes on my computer here. Over the winter break, I upgraded to a newer version, and after the installer uninstalled the version that existed on the computer, it suddenly couldn't write to a folder and failed. Maybe once a month, I spend some time puttering with it, trying to figure things out more but it's really not that important - and what does this have to do with iTunes anyway? Nothing, I digressed quite badly.

A sample of Vintage Syrian Latakia arrived on my doorstep yesterday. Apparently this will be released into the masses in July, and if I said "I think I might order some", it probably wouldn't surprise Jeri in the least. My god it was tasty. After Kerry finishes the crafting room, he's going to have to put some shelves up to create a cellar of sorts.

May 15, 2006

Musings

In the course of my ongoing research project, my preliminary microscopy show evidence that I am indeed on the every other week plan with my lessons. Findings that indicate a cancellation phone call is made every other week appears to back this up. Or course, by the time I receive that phone call, I'm already home in preparation of said lesson, so what am I to do? In an attempt to make my Peterson mentor proud, I begin with a few chilled light beers and some piping. (Sure, my mentor might be a bit more proud if I developed my handyman skills while enjoying the beverages, but I maintain that the "handy" trait skips a generation, and was not passed on to me - and that is why the mentor is building the porch.)

What the hell ever happened to customer service? I'm beginning to think that the youth are taught, beginning at an early age that it is honorable to be as rude as possible to customers. My weekend was marked with this sort of behaviour, beginning with a Happy Meal for Jeri from Mc'Donalds, and finished with horrendous service from both the Tinderbox and Anthony's. Oddly, I only went to Anthony's because of the bad service from the T-box, only to met with worse service there. At least my presence was acknowledged by the T-box, if only because I blocked the view of the t.v. on occassion. Fuckers, that's two more letters I have to write now, and my shopping will be done via this internet thing Jeri's always raving about.

Dedicated readers may be concerned with the sudden disappearance of Will. I received a telegram from him on Friday. Will is very hard at work spearheading the Arizona celebration of the National Day of Slayer. kerry king Kerry is also working very hard on this celebration, but in a different capacity. (Photo to the left) Sure, there are many who know that Kerry "King" is the, well one of, the guitarists from the former speed metal now tejano band, but I bet you didn't know that "Kerry" from Visceraman1, was the "King" himself did you? (I could have mentioned this years ago, but was asked not to until now.)

Last week it was the deluxe cat box, this week it is the Petsmate Water Fountain. Jeri has been promising to buy them this fountain for weeks now, and for weeks the mere mention of the water fountain elicted summersaults, back flips off the loft and much hand clapping from the cats. This weekend, Jeri made good on her word and bought the fountain, and sadly the cats can't pull themselves away from steady ass licking to drink from it. (I wish I had taken a picture of Jeri drinking from it to demonstrate how good the water was).

May 08, 2006

I Don't Get It

kennyvsspennyNo doubt the universe is unfolding as it should young Doodle.

I confessed to Jeri last night about my inability to eat the chicken tenders from the cafeteria anymore; due to the fact that I had witnessed someone reach in and grab with their hands, rather than use the conveniently provided tongs. When I first thought about conf