Spidering Along
I went on a date with my wife this weekend. Nachos, hotdogs (2 for her!), popcorn, and cherry Pepsi, and a little film I have since tittled, The Spiderwick Chronicles:
May 12, 2008
May 05, 2008
Mystery Boxes
Since I've wasted the better portion of my virile years assembling some sort of glycerin project for my sidekick, I decided to scrap it all, and just toss it into the box for his wife to correct my mistakes. So....with that in mind, it was off to the 17th Street Market to find a few odds and ends to complete his box.
V1 readers, the vote is yours.
Does he get a sack of dried baby snakes?
Or will he get a case of Pickled Duck Eggs?
Or, should we keep it simple and stick with the Rooster Feet?
Readers, you decide...voting starts..................now.
April 14, 2008
Fortuna...
......threw her head back and began cackling towards the sky.
The day started off with a bang. Breakfast at *****'s: (Chilaquiles/Black Beans/Eggs!)
And then we hit the road in search of some framing work for one of Jeri's pictures.
On the way, we encountered a native towing device:
Here I am offering advice to the towman:
You should have seen how proud Jeri was sitting up in the tow truck cab! I was hoping she'd score us some cigarettes from the driver, but no.....I had to handle this without cigarettes, and without my clonazepam.
So what's a poor girl to do you ask? Well, like mother always said, "There's no amount of sorrow that a good truffle can't fix!" And so I strapped Jeri into her car seat and set about gathering only the finest cacao:
And then I made some staggeringly delicious truffles. Sure, each one equals 6 servings, but really, could you really complain about too much decadence?
March 30, 2008
Goddamn Electric
Kerry finally coerced Jeri into watching a short biography on someone who was more influential in young Joshua's life than either of them knew.
And it was Goddamn Electric.
March 24, 2008
Bad Girl!
Ok...I don't really know what happens to bad girls on weekends such as this. Good ones however, are seated early in the morning (or when they finally stroll out of bed) and given a small assortment of nonsense.
But more importantly, they later find themselves scooping warm cafloutis into their pieholes.
March 03, 2008
And Finally
After a quick trip, some bribery...
After 6 years......we finally have stopped
sleeping
on
the
February 26, 2008
WARNING: VOMITING AHEAD
February 25, 2008
It's Often Said
That while I get down to business, Jeri on the other hand doodles around and well.....let's just go to the pictures okay?
VS.
Wait..those aren't the right pictures...never mind then.
Yes, you caught me playing some Proving Ground. I don't know....It's hugely better than Project 8 was, but it's still....maybe I just miss the old 'Underground, or Pro days.
Does that mean I'm not a good Christian?
February 12, 2008
6 Days Away
I've been biting my tongue about this for some time, not wanting to soil myself with excess excitement...although, I have infuriated a Jeri on occasion with my rantings about the movie. Oh and how I shrieked when the trailer played at the movie theater....a little slice of heaven!
What am I talking about?
Surely you're kidding.
I, like all the other girls, will simply be glued to KSL Channel 5 this Sunday for the premiere of:
January 22, 2008
Mickey and Oh My God!
It has been brought to my attention (repeatedly), that I have neglected to showcase our most recent addition to the clan. Someone else, has taken matters into their own hand and voila: Bagheera!
As you will note, Bagheera is all black, which only adds to the difficulty of photographing his squirming little....hey, what's that in the back ground....Oh My God!......it is....it's...
Bad Ass Motherfucker
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!
January 17, 2008
Music In the Air
Many, many thanks to the people who made these two beautiful nights happen!
January 16, 2008
Birth and Dining
Jeri said we could eat anywhere, so of course I suggested the SLC Spaghetti Company, or Market Street _____, or hell, even foraging through the fridge in my brother Kerry's office. After hours of hearing me whine and carry on like the two year old I had turned, she ordered me to Takamatsu where:
We had drinks
Then Jeri's array of vegetables arrived:
As did part of my fish:
After I had eaten this portion as well:
Jeri had already abandoned ship:
Granted, while I was forced to spend the remainder of the evening repeatedly vomiting in my mouth from the over engorgement, and sitting with my pants completely undone, Jeri was able to continue to snack on her truffles.
November 12, 2007
Dear Diary: A Haunting We Might Go
Now that the weather is finally starting to get somewhat decent - decent enough for a small day trip, Jeri informed me over supper that we would be driving to our beloved Cochise County the following day. It could have been many things I suppose; the fact that I was enjoying my food (Las Cazuelitas "C"), some W. Cottam look a like was blasting a bugle into my ear, or there was some senior citizen lushing it up, spilling margaritas all over her wheelchair.
Either way, I apparently agreed. So, the following day after and extremely late start, we hit the road. Passing through needless destinations, East Tucson, Benson (who would live in either locale?), gawking at St. David, and then finally, finally hitting up the old trusty Tombstone.
I know I'm not really "supposed" to show this, but here's Doodle doing some shopping:
I found enjoyment in visiting the pipe store that started it all off for me; acquiring a new pipe, and a sack of Doc Holliday's Revenge...the first blend I smoked. I also really wanted an ice cream cone, but Jeri kept telling me that fat kids don't get ice cream except on New Year's. When I started pointing out the other fatsters strolling about with ice cream, it was decided that it would be in my best interest to finish driving to Bisbee.
I meant to take a lot of pictures in Bisbee, but my editor and I decided that I really only took 1 "somewhat ok" shot, and it was a cat climbing a wall.
We stopped for beer and wine at the (haunted) Copper Queen Hotel, enjoyed some free espresso from the street vendor, and then we bowed in front of our most cherished restaurant, and entered. The Grill's Black Bean Burger is by far the best in the state, if not New Mexico as well. However, this time, I made a risky move, and ventured from that.
I went with the Buffalo burger.
And now, I am in love with buffalo meat. Damn tasty stuff, beyond expression in my eyes. Coupled with the fact that you never have to ask for your fries to be "well done", 4 cups of coffee, and I was in heaven. So much in fact, that I left the camera at the restaurant.
After dinner, we stopped at the local coffee shop for a couple 'triple cubanos'. Mmmm delish....wait....why is our marriage therapist staring at us? (Long story.) Why is she gesturing to her friends and pointing at us? We grabbed our drinks and left. This just got awkward really fast.
It was then that I realized I'd left the camera behind in the restaurant. They had it, but before they would release it, they made me explain why every single picture I take of Jeri ends up like this:
I don't know. I don't know. I don't know.
We'll be going back to celebrate something in January, maybe then I'll take some better pictures, and also, take different pictures of Jeri.
September 09, 2007
Dear Diary: You Said What?
I was minding my own business yesterday morning, safe inside from the snakes, and sprawled out in front of my Tivoed "Knight Rider" episodes (having successfully talked myself out of my yoga for the day.) Michael Knight, was giving a solid beat down to the Scorpions (motorcycle gang...modeled after Tucson's East Side "Bikers" I'm sure), when I suddenly found myself on the receiving end of one of Jeri's flippers. (Those who mock her Thalidomide afflictions, or who think a flipper in the chest doesn't hurt, can leave, immediately.)
"Get up mother fucker!" she roared. "We've got blood, pussy and tattoos to go look at!".
"Did she just say what I thought she said?" I asked myself. No way. This can't be real. Not in the least, I was about to get up and look at the clock to see if I was still dreaming, when "WHAM!" came another smack of the flipper.
"There's plenty of ass too, but we don't have all day, now put your little toy car show away and let's go!"
Ducking into the weekend car (the Rambler), we headed off to god knows where. (Jeri was guiding, and jabbing at me with her webbed hand.) And soon, all was made clear.
We were hitting the Semi-Finals, of the Tucson Roller Derby. Indeed, Sweet Jeri had not lied, there was going to be plenty of the aforementioned Ass, Crotch, Blood and Tattoos. Also included for the price of admission, beer, and the ability to "try", repeat "try" to photograph the ongoing activities. The latter of course was the most difficult.
When we were able to get them to line up, and sit still, that wasn't as difficult:
But when they weren't, that was another story altogether.
August 25, 2007
Dear Diary: In The Wilderness
Feeling somewhat ambitious this morning, I donned my trusty work boots, the hat I stole from Matt, and set out to attack the grass/weeds/....now small shrubs (because *someone* won't build a burro pen so we can have a burro to trample things....and a goat), and so forth. All was well until I bent over to tear out more Hybanian Thistleleaf (native to us here in the Yukon Territories). That was when the leaves rustled, and there appeared a small army of these fuckers:
I knew I needed to take a picture to show why I had A) not finished my chores, and B) Micturated in my new flannel work pants. Oh so conveniently, Mr. Lithium Shakes appeared, which made for a fairly comical sight. Me, trying to avoid the reptiles, trying to photograph them, shaking like a mad man, trying not to drop the camera and get at least one shot in focus.
I really had but a few options. Take my requisite Propranolol, wait an hour and hope the lizard snakes had stayed put. Wait for Jeri to come home and take the photo - of course, requiring that the monsters stayed put, or continue to brave the threat and take the photo. So, there they are. When Jeri comes home, I'll see if she'll take a photo.
July 01, 2007
Doodle's Acquisition
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.
April 02, 2007
Dear Diary: Tramp
So Saturday was a bit of a waste of time. One of those, "We'll deliver your sofa between 11 and 3" kind of days. Despite my frantic nose pressing against the front door, I was perhaps the more patient of the two of us. Something neither of us had taken into consideration when procuring the sette, was the size of the fucker. Now, those who've been to our bungalow know what we're talking about. Maybe not though. It's not the size of the room marking the final destination of the sofa, but rather the size of the passage way leading from atrium into the salon that suddenly became a problem.
Not for me mind you, I just stood there flapping my gums, pretending I was a handyman - hoping to thwart any "hey buddy can you hand me that stick thing?". And for good measure, I stretched out a hand to try and help get this sofa through the passage way.
One of the delivery kids (well, 1 kid, 1 felon...clearly), was pretty lazy and unimaginative about the whole thing. Let's just call him Felon. (Or Anybody. Or Somebody. Or Nobody). He was all too eager to call it a day, leave us trapped in our home by a sofa, and leave for his 40oz. Fuck him, I've called the probation office about him...but that's another story, for much later like say...next month's entry. Moving on:
The kid was having no part of that, the sofa was going in the house if it was the last thing he did before dying. Well, that, and try to get that piece of Jeri's hair to stay down once and for all.
And because of him, and his patience, we now have a new sofa. I apologize again for your broken finger, and hope your cohort didn't short you on the tip.
March 13, 2007
Dear Diary: Still Crazy After All These Years
So, yes...there's a new plan for the treatment of my personality disorder. It all seemed fairly innocuous, a pill here, some pills then, and later another batch of pills. With bursts of pills in between. But not every day. And some sort of sensory deprivation therapy twice a week. When she said, electroshock therapy I gasped, grabbed my paper bag from under my chair, and began breathing into it. She raised her glasses, and looked over at me. "Just kidding about all that." she said.
"Thats [breath] good." I huffed. "So changes then?" I asked.
"Oh...hahaha, I was only kidding about the shock therapy, I threw that it because it sounds dramatic and, you know, psychiatristy." she explained.
So far I like her. Sure, I've only been to one session, and she's got plans to radically change my life...but I like her. And her name is Melissa.
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!
February 05, 2007
Dear Diary: It's Organic In Nature
Over the weekend we truly blended into the ghetto, by preparing a huge steaming pot of menudo. By "we" of course, I mean "I made the menudo while Jeri hid in the bathroom, peering out every few minutes to see if the pile of intestine had gone away, and then vomited into her mouth every time she went in and out of the kitchen". I made the menudo in such a way that only my little brother could appreciate, there's no broth left. Ha. So it's really like a steaming pot of menudo casserole. 4 lbs of tripe, 2 cans of hominy and generous helping of garlic and spice, and a whole lotta love. (Coarsely ground, through the pepper grinder I stole from Kerry's house).
It is deee--lish! I've got it here for lunch, and as it's clearly time for my morning lunch, (as opposed to the one that comes later, say at 10:30 or so), I've already had my spoon into. Oh, and don't think this shit's getting radiated either. It's warming up just fine resting on the computer tower.
Also this weekend, to appease my fan base over at Sonora Quest Laboratories, I made them a cheesecake. A plain, simple, unadulterated piece of art. I screwed up a little bit, and forced Jeri to have a small slice, for testing purposes of course. Later I realized how bad it was going to look for her to come dragging in this cake, with a slice missing.
Maybe it will just become my signature.
(I'd have made you one too Kerry, but you said you "didn't do dairyshit" remember?
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.
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.
July 31, 2006
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 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).
May 30, 2006
Finishing Touch...
I forgot to whip out my trusty copy of "Colour & Cosmetics" while I was at work today, of course I had a fairly busy day, and will have a busy week ahead of me - that however, is off topic discussion. It's been some time since I flipped through the book, and I have apparently forgotten how much purple goes into the mix when creating brown.
Saturday after Jeri finished her Sonora Quest punishments, we headed over to the local Home Depot to pick up some brown paint for the bedroom. While Jeri had remembered to neatly stow the measurements of the air filter we need, she neglected to include the colour swatch she had tirelessly picked out several weeks prior. -- -- I must interject and comment on the unabashed, rude behaviour exhibited by Tucson folks while perusing paint swatches. Is it really necessary to squat and block entire pallettes from others? Is there a reason why you can't simply select a few swatches, and then step away from the area? Not here in Tucson apparently. Good god...just imagine what we would have encountered had we (shudder) headed over to the East side.. -- --. We agreed on something called either Traditional, or Howard - once we arrived home we discovered that neither was what Jeri had picked out. (A lot of words for saying nothing?). There's a lot of fucking purple in that brown paint. It looks good though. AND! We hung two new sets of window blinds....now that, would make a certain handyman in Utah grin with pride. (If he saw the shelf I hung in the kitchen...he'd piss himself!)
Will, congratulations on the upcoming wedding. I understand that the (soon to be) Mrs. Thread [I know], was horrified at the prospect of a Jew and a Mexican being in attendance, as if being your friends wasn't enough to get us booted from the attendance roster. (I know, you didn't come to our wedding, but I was still fuming at Kerry for not inviting us to his). When you're out in California, keep an eye out for Larry David. He's probably nowhere near San Francisco this time of year but give it a shot. Rob Flynn is in the Bay area, and so is Joe Satriani so stay alert.
February 14, 2006
Happy Valentines Day Monkey!
While Jeri is busily participating in the 2nd Annual Regional Phlebotomic Olympiad, I've been assuming the role of fat white vactioner in the world famous City of the Mad Banshee. I of course had to research the differences between the GameWorks compounds, and as usual, the bigger city was clearly the victor. Aside from the obvious differences, (beer, food, beer and beer), the games themselves were of a completely different caliber. Sure in Tucson (or Sucktown as Fredo calls it), the games are reminiscent of the Wonderland Nickel Arcade the Crag Mava gentleman and I attended in our youth. (The mere mention of this place, and a request for $2 in nickels was guaranteed to piss Rudy off like nothing else could.) I don't know the names of the games I was playing, hang on.....(no, not Hang On!, that was soooo pre fall 1989), Cycraft does stick out, but as for the others, I'll have to go back today then.
The more shocking activity, or perhaps glaring, was when I stripped down to my panties and swam in the pool and spa. I had to do this under the cloak of darkness, but soon security was called to investigate the foreign object floating in the pool. (I am NOT foreign, just pasty). (And old).
Room service with Jeri was pleasant, the food not so, but better than her repeated jabbing of my eye with the knitting needle.
February 10, 2006
In Passing
At this point in my life, death is nothing new to me, but rather a daily event - sometimes twice daily, sometimes more. It's a powerful event, I would say more powerful than any other event we experience in our lives. More powerful than love, more powerful than the birth of a child.
Although I am surrounded every day by reminders of death's existence (and unless in jest with Jeri), death is not something I truly contemplate or dwell on. Instead, like most people (ok, perhaps not like most), I push the thought of death to the deeper regions of my mind and continue on peacefully and happily.
And sometimes events happen that crumble blow that idea to pieces.
That event being of course, the death of someone I respected. Someone I admired. Someone I thought very highly of.
Then death is no longer something I've experienced or bore witness to, but rather the experience becomes very new, very foreign all over again.
No matter how we perceive ourselves; our role or purpose in this world, we have no idea how many lives are touched by our life. We have no idea the impact we may have had in someone else's life. We may never know how or what about ourselves affected others, or what influence our actions may have had on someone.
I never had the chance took the time to tell you what I learned from you. I never thanked you for teaching me the finer points of patience. I never thanked you for the patience you always had with me. The kindness with which you never failed to treat me with. The many small memories that I will forever carry with me. The ever present butterscotch hard candies, to "get me ready for kisses". The clomp of your feet as you strolled down the hall, cane in hand, slow but ever determined. The secrets to a happy marriage: "mm hmm, mm hmmm, mmhmm". For always making sure my truck was washed, and full of gas every week. For insisting on helping me with money when I had none, or was in need. How you insisted on giving me your credit card to take a date out to dinner. Hearing you settle yourself down for your afternoon naps (audible proof that aging is painful). Watching you try in vain to slick down your wiry hair, that damn clip on tie.
And most of all, for being one of the most genuine people I have ever had the opportunity to meet.
It was an honour knowing you,
thank you Stanley.
February 06, 2006
Vascular Sandwich
Tomorrow marks the first day that of Jeri's work in Vascular Atresiatic Exostasis. Of course, due to her diligence and unyielding heart shaped ass, she will be working at the vascular center that was her first choice....good job Monkey!
December 14, 2005
Home Movies
I had posted some pictures of my family from many years ago. Thanks to Jeri cleaning out some treasures, I've found some video footage of my mom reacting to the fact that she, my brother and I had participated in a Passover Seder with (oddly) some friends of my parents.
I also managed to find some clips featuring Jeri's hero(s)...(resurrection) and (edgecrusher)...I don't remember who she is always praising, Burton or Ray...I suppose it doesn't matter anyway.
December 12, 2005
Law School
It's been decided that I will take the reins of the I Should Have Been A Sommelier blog due to a blatant disregard for keeping me apprised of the coed antics that occur at law school. Yeah, I know what you're thinking, What the fuck do you know about law school Joshua?. And that my friends, is what will be an ongoing theme throughout my blogging over there.....what do I know, and just how much can be written about nothing. Actually, I believe that if I begin a steady regimine of maximizing research-based differentiated lessons I could in effect, recontextualize real-world niches. AND!...should adAdministration allow me the freedom to synergize synergistic staff development, I can increase the benchmark used for intuitive initiatives. Apply this concept to my pathetic grasp of legal matters, and away we go!
The articles relating to sommeliers? That will require some research.
November 26, 2005
Those Old Photos
After gorging ourselves on the Thanksgiving fare, it was time to peruse some old family photos. You'll need to make sure you've downloaded and installed the latest Flash Player if you want to see this. I think you may want to...Here it is, in all it's glory
November 18, 2005
Ill Will and Freezing Temperatures
It's going to be nearly a week before I add anything to the magical world of Visceraman1/Joshua Lopez. I'll be experiencing the freezing world of Ann Arbor, Michigan for a few days; studying the alluring field of plastination- so that upon my return I can resume spending money like a fiend. Provided the camera doesn't immediately freeze upon exposure, or fly out of my hands in the 45mph winds, I'll have some pretty pictures to post. I suggest that in my absence, you head over to Ill Will Press and catch up on the latest antics of Foamy.
November 17, 2005
Next!
Now that the bedroom floor is finished, (ok, except for a threshold), it's time to start thinking about the next project I should attempt. At first I thought...A shed!, then A crafting den for Jeri!. Scratch both of those ideas, because a true project looms on the horizon. I do see that someone else has designed something similar, and while I think it's decent, I do find it to be a bit tacky. There were a few other example notable samples here and yet again over here, at deviantart.
It goes without saying that while mine will appear a bit lopsided and far from level at times, it will far superior overall. I brought the Discover Card with me to work, so in between 'projects', I can start buying supplies.
October 31, 2005
Woodness Sakes
Contrary to the folks at Ambassador, who claimed it simply couldn't be done, the wood floors are in, and just about finished. A project long in the making - selection of wood took place nearly 9 months ago. However, the frigate carrying our wood from Uganda arrived in the U.S. on Wednesday, in Tucson on Thursday, and into our house on Friday. Yesterday, after allowing the requisite time for the wood to adapt to its quite foreign environment, installation began. I'd say we (my pops and I - under careful supervision from Jeri) made excellent progress. Still have some trim left, as well as the closet and let's not forget the seemingly endless clean up. I of course had the foresight to take today and tomorrow off, and can catch up on my gaming a bit. 
October 17, 2005
What No Picture?
How is it that there hasn't been any photowork since the Pessin shot? I won't offer an excuse other than the acquisition of Mortal Kombat 2 & 3 has kept me otherwise occupied.
Because of her excellent behaviour, I took Sweet Jeri to see Kathy Griffin on Friday. The highlight of the evening for me was listening to Jeri laugh, and listening to Kathy's commentary regarding the idiocy of Republicans. I am going to go out on a limb here, and say that the highlight of Jeri's evening was the time spent drinking coffee with Ms. Griffin herself, sharing biscotti and sharing the woes of marriage.
Saturday, our laptop arrived with at crisp, fresh new display attached, so I could once again begin puttering about....but!...my friend Gary came down from Gilbert just to take me on in a game of Madden, drink beer, and eat heartily! Always good seeing the Newson's though I now feel guilty when in the presence of Dawn....must be her criminal justice associations.
Rest assured, I will be back posting my little photo workings, PSC has invited me to participate in another competition, so I will be quite busy.
August 28, 2005
Cat Fancy
A few weeks ago, Jeri forwarded an link she had gotten from her mom.
As soon as I saw the word "Catster" I of course became immediately
queasy with the thoughts of millions of wonderful people, killing time
between bingo matches by dressing their cats up and forcing them to
perform tricks.. So Sunday morning, while Jeri was ignoring me working on her artwork, I flipped open the computer and set up an account at Catster.
This was really just intended to be a bit of punishiment, in the vein
of "you ignore me, I do something to shame the family". So without
further ado, here are our kids and their respective pages:
Dante
Frida
Georgia
Diego
Now if it didn't already seem odd, that one would actually take the time to post a picture and information about their cat, that's just the beginning. It seems you can also have some sort of blog (written by your cat of course), and now our cats are getting fan mail from other cat owners across the country. Diego is apparently viewed as a sexy guy, I'm guessing in the "Bad Boy" way.
August 25, 2005
Antiquing
This weekend, Jeri and I went to a few antique shops here in town, partly to provide inspiration and to get items for her new artwork, and well, ok that was really the only reason. It's been decades since I had really spent time in an antique shop, which made it decades since my brother and I were required to walk behind my dad, hands in his back pockets - this was a sort of disciplinary tactic designed by my dad in an attempt to keep my brother and I from touching anything in the store. I've never met anyone else who endured the same, much less could imagine this sort of tactic but such is life. (The tactic was more barbaric and cruel when you took into consideration my dad's propensity for great and horrid flatulence.) During this time, my brother and I would generally wave a peace flag, and endure this together, as brothers. It never lasted too long, though my dad was of that athletic sort, he would soon tire of carting around 150lbs of sweaty child behind him (yes, I was quite the fat one.)
Antique stores always have that familiar smell, though never the same as that A & A Hardware my dad would take us to, perhaps it was just the Boston Baked Beans that had me enamored with that store (again, I was fat), but I'll save that for another time.
So that smell, and oy christ, the heat. It's as though the items would perish if the propietors lowered the temperature below 85. As always, I spent most of the time wiping my brow on aged doilies, and coats with mock fur necks. Looking at rows and rows of empty Coke bottles made me thirsty, and though I had polished off a Sicilian Omellette just minutes before, the rusted Hostess tins made my stomach growl (I said I was fat ok?). I had a pretty good time, though I'm not sure I would consider Def Leppard's "Pyromania" a true antique, nor the Petra albums. One of the stores had quite the selection of religious artwork that I found most intriguing, but alas, far beyond reach of my wallet.
I didn't buy anything, Jeri came away with a single die and a cigar box, and then it was off for raspados con nieve (for fuckssakes, I said I was fat!).
