Wednesday, November 30, 2005

orange is the new black

And Thursday is the new Friday. At least for me as I'm off Friday. It's like I never work, eh? So that makes Wednesday the new Thursday and makes me feel like my week is basically over. Oh, and fyi, Marginally Clever is the new Google. I swear. As long as you're searching for witty anecdotes.

At any rate, I got nothing for you today, my apologies. But I do try to post daily and it bothers me if I don't (at least when I'm not preoccupied with something much cooler like drinking or trying to play the first 2 measures of Werewolves of London.) I am paranoid that people actually expect me to post and are disappointed if I don't. I know you're not so demanding as I've only received three death threats in regards to too little posting, but such is the guilt. I can't get away from it. So, I sit down at the machine and have a go at it. Being bereft of ideas has never stopped me before. I'll take a few minutes and give it the old college try. But, I can't do that this very second, here at this desk. I'll be back in a few.

I did 12 shots of Jager and threw-up on campus patrol. Then I stumbled home and ordered a large, thin crust pepperoni and mushroom pizza from Domino's. I skipped my 11 o'clock class and can't find my pants. I don't want to miss my one o'clock though. I think we might be having a midterm. Maybe later I'll go awkwardly talk to some girls and have them edge away slowly. Man is dancing fun! Time to stay up all night for no reason. Is it bad to drink a whole pot of coffee in one sitting?

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

blogger lies

And you get hurt. You think you're seeing double. "That's too much for my poor eyes! The hilarity is blinding!" I understand. What happens is I post and blogger says, "There has been an error! Whatever will your 7 readers do when they can't read your post! ERROR!" And I'm all, "Oh shit." So I dutifully hit post again.

Well apparently, blogger is out to get me as this is the second time it's totally faked me out and made me think a posted item went unposted. Blogger appears to be an electronic web hypochondriac of some kind. Fool me twice, shame on me. From now on when I'm told there's an "error," I will scroll further to see if my most recent post has a doppelganger lurking.

monkey do

This monkey is back to the grind, sans organ, sans suit, but plenty of the business. When you have 12 days off work, day 1 is utopia. "I am off work for 12 days and this is but the first! It's as if I'll never be at work again! Joy!" And for 2 or 3 days, you believe it.

But, then you start staying up late, wasting time watching The Osterman Weekend or Seven Thieves or 8 1/2. Before you know it, you're waking up around noon (How do people wake-up at 6:30?), rolling out of bed and rolling into the couch. Good thing rolling up is strenous as that's the only exercise you're getting. You eat whatever is readily at hand, drink the same. Beer and Oatmeal for breakfast, maybe a smoothie mixed in here or there (for whatever reason you've decided to start drinking smoothies, the experiment is over by day 5) and some whole-grain noodles and chicken for dinner. The days roll by swimmingly and a warm contentendness falls over you. And then the course blow of regular employment befalls you. The forgotten tones of newAlarmie roil you from a warm bed. Off to work you go. Utopia lost.

Monday, November 28, 2005

The new contractor's here! The new contractor's here!

Oh new contractor, what social foibles yee? Are you afflicted with the whooping cough? Do you clear your throat loudly? Do you spend entire afternoons in the bathroom, reading the day's news? Do you wear unusual, neo-70's style clothing? Do you smile gleefully at every passerby for no apparent reason? Will your odor make my eyes water? Will you speak incoherently, walkabout funnily or gesture wildly? Will you resemble a famous person - or better yet - a cartoon character? Oh the possibilities!

But, what if? What if - terror of terrors - you are perfectly normal? Will your lack of idiosyncracies betray a nickname? I would be crushed. Do not deny me this small joy, o you new contractor.

Wednesday, November 23, 2005

Netflix: Wimbledon (2004)

Wimbledon? Wimbledon't.

because I love you

Go here and download one-click answers. So when I say "chupacabra" and you think, "WTF does that mean?" all you have to do is hold down the alt button and click the word and you'll go right to this page. It's internet magic at its best!

hair today, gone tomorrow

It's that time of year folks. Time for me to let my hair out (of my face) and get prepared for the stiff winds of winter. (Stiff winter winds cause chaffing, you know.) In what has become a personal hygiene tradition of sorts, I grow an amazing technicolor dream beard (red, blonde, brunette, orange hues all accounted for) for the winter and then shave it when baseball season starts. (I think I stole this from Stephen King, along with hella-mad literary skillz - booyah!)

At the same time, theMonica has cut her luxiorous, curly locks. This is indeed, far more traumatic for me than for her. Because really, doesn't it always have to revolve around me? Aesthetically, it matters little as the girl could wear a Ronald McDonald wig and still turn heads and honestly, I can't blame her as if my hair gets beyond an inch and a half I want to cut it down to the scalp. My burden isn't that great when and a lot of the ladies are walking around with pounds and pounds of hair.

Nevertheless, it will take some getting used to. Does anyone know of a children's book written about long hair becoming short? You know, how they have books like, "Tina has Two Mommies," to explain same-sex parenting? That's what I need. "Monica's Hair Doesn't Live Here Anymore." You know, something to soften the blow. Or maybe she could have woven a beard out of her shorn hair and saved me a couple of weeks of growing.

Monday, November 21, 2005

gimme a break

I took Monday through Wednesday of this week off. Why? No big plans. At work they're all, "Use it or lose it," with the vacation, so I happily oblige.

Consequently, I feel like a total slacker. I haven't accomplished much. I caught up on some blog reading, filled the Brita, made a smoothie, watched some TV and I'll probably catch a Netflix later and maybe a little Monday Night Football - if I can fit it into my busy schedule.

The only thing I did all day that I can even pretend was constructive (besides sleep) was my trip to the grocery store. It was an uneventful excursion, but I did notice something troubling: Old people dominate the daylight hours. They are like some crazy breed of reverse vampires or something. Except garlic doesn't repel them! Scared of crucifixes - balderdash! They're off at sunrise to pray to the gods of gentrification. They are anti-cockroaches, scurrying into the sunlight, basking in it, letting their leathery pours soak it in. That's why they drive so slowly - more time for the pours. They walk kind of slow when they're out and about, mostly out of necessity. But they know stuff. The stuff they can remember at least. I like old people. I like that an old guy can flirt universally and with impunity and that old ladies can call all the young girls out for being strumpets. There's a certain charm in that.

Old people don't care if you make fun of them. They know what a dumbass you are and that you don't have everything figured out. Also sometimes they can't even hear your funny, funny jokes. That "knowing smile" can mean many things.

Old people - here's to being one myself some day.

Friday, November 18, 2005

RIP Alarmie (1994-2005)

I lost a close friend last week. Whilst setting Alarmie to wake me up for the three-thousandth time, he passed away, his main button valve finally giving out. He called himself the "Dream Machine," I thought he should have been called the "Interruptor of Dreams Machine," or the "Make Me Realize I Get Up Way Too Early to Go to Work Machine," or the "Starter of Hangovers Machine." But as that writing guy once said, surely thinking of Alarmie, "What's in a name?"

We've been together for over ten years now and boy the times we had. I'll never forget when Alarmie busted us out of that Thai prison. He killed a man to get us out of there and for that, I'll always be grateful. Rest in Peace Alarmie and may your snooze button never be abused again.

Thursday, November 17, 2005

"I love drunk Roger!"

A friend said to me. And I wasn't even drunk. It was just the possibility of me being drunk. I think I've found my calling in life.

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

a boy called frank mills

It's been VERY mild around these parts for the past month or so. Generally at this time of year, we're well past our first snow fall and everyone is hunkering down for a long winter's nap. Last night it got up to 66 degrees. I think winter is getting kind of pissed off though. It was 40-something this morning and really windy. Yah, it messed up my hair. I buy the "maximum" hold because I need to be able to sustain my sculpted hairdo through my long and arduous walk from the parking lot.

Speaking of hairspray, I remember when I discovered it - not discovered it like de Leon, but discovered found something that was there that other people already knew about, but of which I was ignorant. Come to think of it, I exactly discovered it like de Leon, but I didn't try to take all the credit for myself. My hair as a young child was a flaxen blonde. It was tame and easily styled. My hair was glorious. Alas, this story is not all puppy dogs and lollipops. During my teen years the ravages of puberty netted and tangled it, making a former source of beeming pride into a dingy, rat's nest of formless mass. My mophead and I traveled around, downtrodden, for about a year before I found my first true love, hairspray.

Suddenly I was able to style and control my hair like a regular person! It was fantastic! Oh Joy! Long were the days of my glee. Until the day I mistook a can of deodorant for a can of hairspray. Happily I applied. My head did not sweat at all that day. I did smell kind of funny, but whatever, I rolled with it. It wasn't until the next morning that I discovered my mistake. And until today my shame had been a private one.

Monday, November 14, 2005

strange but true

Probably if you own a seeing-eye dog, you would prefer it not lead you into the middle of the road to wait for the light to change while numerous cars drive past. The curb would be just fine, thank you. Fortunately there was a seeing-eye cop nearby who stopped traffic and let them by. I hope he also told her about her insidious dog. Like it's not bad enough you can't see, but you also have your dog trying to walk you into traffic. Et tu Fido?

Saturday, November 12, 2005

gobble gobble we accept you

Just doing a little maintenance to my profile. Check it out:

I'm about to go nuts on a turkey leg. Do I look a little jaundiced? Must have had some bad mashed potatoes.

Wednesday, November 09, 2005

Silly Netflix!

Apparently they filter my blog over at the Netflix marketing department:

Netflix: Mommie Dearest (1981)


That Joan Crawford was nuttier than a PayDay. Mommie Dearest tells the tale of the cruel existence that was Christina Crawford's early years. Adopted by Joan - who knows why - Christina is subject to the whimsy that is severe mental instability. Worst of all, ensconsed in her big mansion with those around her unable or unwilling to criticize, her eldest daughter is subjected to sadistic (although somehow hysterical) mental and physical abuse.

I don't have anything inciteful to say about this flick (big surprise, I know). But the sheer insanity of it made fom a good viewing. Also of note: in the infamous "NO WIRE HANGERS!" scene, Joan casually mentions that she had bought Christina a dress for 300 dollars, which Christina has subsequently hung on a wire hanger. (The ridiculousness of which I am still unable to discern. Do wire hangers leave creases in your clothes? If Joan visited my closet, I'd get the beating of a lifetime.) I thought to myself, "Three bones, that's some serious cash. Even now, let alone back in the day." Enter, The Inflation Calculator. According to said tool, 300 dollars in 1949 (a rough estimate based on how old Christina looked in the movie) is equivalent to $2302.29 in 2005 dollars. 2302 is also the equivalent of the purchase price of my entire wardrobe times 7.

intestinal fortitude

I hear you - you siren-song of the office food cabinet. Beckoning me to, your sweet tarts whisper my name. The chocolatey goodness of your Kit-Kat sings the praises of indulged candylust. I know of your bubble-gum sweetness, your multi-flavored suckers, your tootsie roll. Upon deaf ears your melodies fall. I will resist you - oh temptress of high caloric snacks of deliciousness!

Monday, November 07, 2005


I think I just invented that post title as an intentional convention. Googling seemed to reveal a number of spelling errors, but I will claim this little bit of hilarity all for myself. Even though I long ago realized I have never had a unique, clever thought I am lazy enough to believe I invented this. At any rate, oh the irony of getting such a document entitled with such an error that was WAY off point. It would be delightful fun. And oh how the emails would fly! I've been working in a cube for too long.

On point, here's a list. Enjoy the itemization:
  • Speaking of randomness, someone reached my blog with a search on "sonic and amy having sex." I have no idea what this means. I will not investigate further.

  • I took off work last Friday AND stayed home. However, I was unable to avoid the guilt of missing missing work a couple of weeks ago. Two outta three ain't bad . . . sing it Meatloaf.

  • My printer is hard at work printing out the 22 pages of channel listings I now enjoy with Directv. Although the font is pseudo-senior, you gotta love 22 pages of channels.

  • This post is brought to you by Tivo which has recorded the Cavs game while I typed away.

  • List should always contain 3, 5 or 10 items.

Netflix: Alfie

Alfie was a HUGE disappointment.

Imagine my surprise when I was expected this:

And instead got this:

The movie wasn't much of a stretch for Jude as it parelleled his life nicely. In this case, life imitating art imitating life or I guess we'll never know which came first. Alfie, through the abuse of soliliquy, answers the troubling question of what it would be like to be Jude Law's most-trusted confidante. Alfie preens and whines his way through the overly long movie lamenting the guilt he feels over objectifying and using women while simultaneously being unable to remain faithful. It was the sort of insincere self-confessional drivel that passes as "enlightenment" these days. Not only that, but it was ineffectual. By the end of it, Alfie, cold and alone, ponders his future and all I could think to ask theMonica was, "Am I supposed to care?" Oh Alfie - you incorrigible cad - when will you learn!

Dullness of the movie aside, the most striking scene had to be the one which featured Stephen Gaghan - mostly known for writing the screenplay for Traffic - as the new-found love of Marissa Tomei's character. I vaguely recognized him, but don't remember finding him as disturbing as I did in his short cameo. Frankly to me he looked like the unholy love child of Kevin Bacon and Mick Jagger:

Try quieting those demons just before bedtime.

Thursday, November 03, 2005

the eternal struggle

I will admit it, blogging has been lite. (It's hard to take the carbs out of a blog.) I do have things I want to blog, things that everyone can look forward to, but at the same time, I've got limited time and skills. I also now have Directv.

I finally made the switch. Long the winters of my discontent with Adelphia and it's crappy picture, limited selection and 15 public access channels - channels which were invariably filled with local area preachers. Adelphia - heavy on the salvation, stingy on the entertainment. I canceled my cable with extreme prejudice and when Greg, the Directv guy, showed up at my house, I wept a little.

With my purchase of the system, I also got a DVR with Tivo. I don't know if you know about the Tivo. The Tivo is basically electronic withcraft in that it tries to read your mind (or tea leaves, whatever's handy) and decide what you would like to watch and then records it without meddlesome human intervention. It does have a thumbs up/thumbs down function, but in the beginning, it's flying blind. I'm pretty sure it's controlled by the devil. How else do you explain that it recorded "A Pup Named Scooby Doo" for me while having essentially no knowledge of my viewing habits? "Red Herring," you might exclaim. Balderdash! I used to be a regular viewer of that show. How did you know Tivo? It spooked me, until it then recorded a movie for a channel that I don't have. That irritated me. Now it's trying to increase sales? It's pointing out to me what I COULD be watching if I had the ultimate choice channel package, for only 93.99 per month.

While Directv is waging full assault on my blogging time, it is also battling with Netflix on its left flank. While I don't have HBO or Starz or other movie channels suites, I do have Turner Classic Movies, AMC, IFC and a few others. All of which play good movies. Most of the time I'm blissfully unaware that they're on, unless I happen to be watching TV at that very moment. Now, Tivo is taping that stuff. AND I can search for a certain actor or director and record any upcoming presentations of their work. That's nice. I don't have to be up Monday morning at 4 a.m. to watch The Third Man, but the bank of movies I'm building has to be consumed at some point or else Tivo explodes and Edward G. Robinson is running around my apartment with his freaking straight flush. "You owe me 5 grand SEEEEEE!"

When will I blog? When will I Netflix? When will I jog or practice the piano? When will I drink? Well, thanks to drinking's portability I should be able to do that during all those other activities. (Oh you just watch me jog and booze!) All this whilst loving theMonica throughout. Man, I am going to be really busy. But I vow that I will keep blogging. I will not quit on this writing project as I have on every other writing project I've ever started. (Anybody want to buy 27 pages of a book?)

So, rest easy blogging friends, I shall continue my quest for almost cleverness.