probably my last post

I am going to the Indians "nooner" today. I will be seated in a very prominent position - viewable via camera when they show the side view of left-handed batters. Oh yes, the heckling will be sweet. I actually probably won't heckle too much because being so close is kind of disarming (the other 99% of it being my sobriety).

I fully expect to be discovered by some talent agent of some kind and, unfortunately for you, respectable famous people don't do blogs. It's been fun.

WROG in Cincinnati

theMonica, Alan, A2Z and I are taking a road trip to Cincinnati today. We are headed out mainly to see Spoon. Yes, I am officially a dead head, except I follow a good band . . . ZING! You might be wondering why Spoon isn't coming to Cleveland. Don't you know we're home to the Rock 'n Roll HOF???!! I'm not sure. Maybe it's solely to inconvenience me. I'm fairly convinced someone has erected a giant force field around northeast Ohio that prevents bands I like from visiting and putting on rock shows in my general vicinity - some kind of Rock Defense System . . . shady.

At any rate, I'm totally pumped to see them again. They are one of those bands I see and just keep thinking about how much I love music. And a great live show is a perfect manifestation of that love. HUGS!

We will also be attending the Reds v. Phillies game tomorrow afternoon. All my Cincy readers, make it a point to stop by. Not sure what we're going to do the rest of the time though. Check out the local sites, ridicule the city mercilessly, maybe start a race riot . . . only because it seems so easy to do there and well, I've never been - to a race riot, that is.

We are leaving this afternoon. theMonica has packed PB&J for everyone (really). And everyone make sure you go to the bathroom before we get on the road. I don't want to be stopping ever 5 minutes for the weak-bladdered.

DRAINAGE!

The zombie fever has broken and the floodgates have opened. Now the massive cranial snot-product build-up must be purged. (If this isn't sufficiently graphic/disgusting, please let me know.)
I'm blowing through kleenex like Michael J. Fox through mall parking lots.

Ok, that was from a couple of days ago. I'm feeling mucho bettero, yo. Thanks for asking. I'd say I'm at 10% sinal leakage. Much better than the 80 to 90% I was running at over the weekend. However, I fear my poor, chafed nose may never forgive me.

Today is the Indians home opener. And guess what? It's not going to snow (please Lord, don't inundate us with snow due to my insolence)! It's fun and exciting and I'll be there after I bust out a half day of work. SNOOOZE. And it must be a tough ticket as the scalpers were out bright and early today. I even saw a whole transaction take place in the middle of the street. Car door to car door scalper sales! The following drivers were very patient. I heard nary a honk.

Happy (for real) opening day everyone! Go Tribe!

roger's car doesn't go here anymore

So, my car got stuck in the snow yesterday. I was trying to get out of my lot and had nice, slushy, snowy, icey mix of precipitation under my wheels. Fortunately for me I had walked to the lot with a buddy of mine. I let him drive while I tried to push. But, I'm a sissy and that didn't work. Within a minute, a guy stopped his jeep and asked if he could help - SURE! And then another guy (i.e. hobo) stopped and was like, "Wait. I need to get you some traction." I have no idea what he had in mind (the bones of other defeated hoboes), but the 3 of us were able to get my car moving again. (Giving him the benefit of the doubt, I nickname him, "Salty Dogg Hobo").

Soon after, I got going, but was quickly in another could-potentially-get-stuck situation, so I yelled, "THANKS!" really loud out the window and drove off. What exactly is protocol in that situation? Do I stop the car and give everyone high five? A dignified fist-pump out the window? I was kind of funny because the "push out" was a multi-cultural affair. I kept thinking we were one lady in a wheelchair away from making it an after school special. She didn't show though. Besides, what kind of towing power does a motorized wheelchair have anyway.

The whole thing reminded me of another time during the worst-snowstorm-in-the-history-of-me-getting-my-car-stuck when I was on a road - and it was really bad, people were literally abandoning their cars in mid-street - just spinning my wheels, completely unable to get my car going. It was a relatively low-grade hill, but, man was I stuck. I was there for a good 15-20 minutes when two teenage guys passed by. They signalled if I wanted help. Hells yes. They pushed and I was able to get the car going. I had a mind to stop and give them both like 50 bucks, but there was no way I was going to slow down and risk getting stuck again. So I had to honk the horn in appreciation/jubilation and hope the gods repaid their kind deed in time. I still kind of feel bad I didn't pre-pay for that one.

I guess Cleveland is a great place to get your car stuck in the snow.

i'm as happy as a little girl

I know approximately 98% of you couldn't care less, but the Cleveland Cavaliers are in the NBA Finals.

If you're looking for detailed match-ups or intriguing subplots (or solid sentence structure), you've come to the wrong place. I'm only concerned with how this makes me feel personally - in a word, vomitty. Raw nerves coupled with saccharin-sweet anticipation, presaging the promise of profuse profanity.

The Cavs are in the NBA Finals - fuck yah!

monday is the new friday

But Tuesday morning is still Tuesday morning no matter how many you try to wish it away via the snooze.

Monday night Alan, A2Z and I went to the Grog Shop to take in a little of the rock music.

Quick rundown of the bands:

Bears: I am like the top, number one, Bears merch whore. I am a merch whore for all bands really. Being as how I'm frequently sweaty, I wear lots of t-shirts. So, I buy a lot of band t-shirts because how many days a week can I wear a wife-beater? Well, I have 2 Bears' Ts now. This is the first one I bought from them that wasn't irregularly sized.

JJ Magazine: I enjoyed them. The lead singer has developed her own elaborate dance repertoire sans shoes which was fun to watch.

Asobi Seksu: This is one of those bands that you just have to listen to, not that you will, but what I'm saying is I don't have a proper frame of reference for describing them - except physically. The lead singer is like 4'8", 37 pounds.

I also saw the plot for every 80's teen movie played out before my very eyes. Guy who wears a funny hat is in love with girl with glasses. Funny Hat (perhaps subconsciously modeling himself after Duckie, with a different funny hat) heads to the girls' wing and asks Glasses if she's going to the Asobi Seksu show at the Grog Shop tonight - ROCK 'N ROLL!! Glasses says, "Oh yah, I'll be there." Hat asks if she wants to carpool. "I can't I'm going to dinner right before." Hat, excited that Glasses will be in attendance and not wanting to push Glasses, asks nothing further. Unbeknownst to Hat, Glasses is going to dinner (and Asobi Seksu) with Ponytail, this guy from her Intro. to Philosophy class; he's really smart. Ponytail hates philosophy, but Glasses eats up all his BS about Wittgenstein. They hang out. It's cool for what it is. Hat sees Glasses at the show. "Sweet!" Goes over to talk to her. "Who is this douchebag with the ponytail that's staring at us?" "Who's this douchebag with the hat?" The game is on. Passive aggressive possessive touching of Glasses begins in earnest. Eventually, Ponytail kisses Glasses and the game is won. After much durress and obsequious adulation, Hat will confess to Glasses (perhaps during his first drunken night) that he loves her. It will be awkward. Ponytail will proclaim, "I knew he was a douche."

Back in the real world, the key bit of information I gained from the night is that I'm getting old. I mean, the whole night, with each swig of Pabst Blue Ribbon, I thought to myself, "Man, Tuesday morning is going to SUCK!" I don't know about you, but I don't want the voices in my head discouraging me from drinking. I want the voices in my head telling me I'm more handsome and stronger and better than most people at a lot of things. I mean, if I can't get false confidence from beer anymore, I'll actually have to improve myslef or something . . . or start doing harder drugs.

about a boy

So theMonica, Alan, Dan and some other folks went to the most recent Machine Go Boom show at the Happy Dog (where, incidentally, there was a happy dog and a happier dog owner; though the dog was probably not really hammered).

The opener was a guy called Ukebox. He played a ukulele and sang songs about . . . uhhh, pretty much anything, really. I think he had a song he opened with, "This is a song about playing the Happy Dog on December 2nd, 2006." Another buddy of mine said, "This is guys is like, 'Here's a song about a dump I took this morning.'" Little blue for me, but it captured the spirit of Ukebox fully.

The show happens and whatnot. And actually, some of the members of the other band from my last post that was exactly like this one, Bears were there in an audience capacity. I was returning from the bathroom and had to walk right through the middle of them. So, I stopped and said, "Hey, I really like your album." And they just kind of stared at me for a while. Have I ever mentioned I embarrass easily? If I'm intentionally making an ass of myself, I don't embarrass easily, but during this kind of unintentionally uncomfortable social encounter, I feel really, really self-conscience. I kept thinking, "Why did I tell these people I liked their album? Aargh!" (See, if I only had my pirate gear on, this bit would have been much less awkward.) Finally, one of the guys introduced himself and it was somewhat less awkward. Even so, my getaway line was, "Wow. That was really awkward."

I'm not sure why. Maybe they are famous or something. Generally, if they are just people (not famous people), it's not awkward at all to pass along a compliment and have them say, "Oh thanks." Like: "Sweet 'stache." "Thanks bro." But there's a certain level of fame where this gracefullness short-circuits (there's a false gracefullness that develops when fame grows even more), I once asked the guy from The Aislers Set if I could get their albums on-line (we were at the merch table and I was short on cash.) The look on his face said, "Do you live on the fucking moon? With no interwebs access?" I kind of apologized to that guy and scurried off. Maybe they should wear the scarlet F for "Famous."

. . . Thus endeth this long side track, The Ballad of Awkward Roger.

Anyway, at the show some chick starts talking to (hitting on?) theMonica while I'm rocking the party that rocks the body or however that saying goes. theMonica tells this girl that she's with me. This girl, dumb bitch, we shall call her, is like shocked and says that theMonica couldn't be dating me because I "look like a boy." theMonica, pedophilia accusations notwithstanding, laughs it off deftly. Later on, she's telling me the story - the one where I'm 30-years-old and look like a boy. And whatever, I dropped a WTF or something and did a shoulder shrug at theMonica. Then she says, "That's one of the things I like about you - your boyish face." So I'm 30 and I look like I'm 10. I'm a reverse Mitch Taylor.

hello Cleveland!

Last week, theMonica, Alan and I went to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum. If you're ever in town, not only should you have a beer with me and see how much cooler I am in real-life (as opposed to this blog), but you should also check out the Rock Hall.

It was a rockin' good time really. While I'm predisposed to liking history in general, I was amazed at the show outfits. From the scary, green, be-eagled Roy Orbison one-piece, to the giant shouldered David Byrne Talking Head get-up, I am always transported to the moment when the artist green-lighted the idea of wear such ridiculous attire. "Tight crotched, striped, unitard? Butter me up and roll me in!" I am also amazed at how tiny some of these people are. There was a couple of Christina Aguilera costumes there, including a yellow singlet (it's all singlet with these people) that was exceptional only in its tininess. You could honestly put the girl in your pocket. You'd probably be annoyed and toss her after five minutes, but she is that small.

After the trip, we went to dinner. Apparently, the commenting around here has been pretty lacksydaisyall. I am here, all day, blogging my ass off and people are not commenting! I had not noticed all the slacking, but these are my most trusted peeps and they informed me a few posts were left friendless over the past week or so. I must believe them and despise all of you! Just kidding, but no, if you don't find me funny, you should at least PRETEND. Didn't your parents ever teach you about being polite - like if you don't have anything nice to say - oh that's right. Forgot all that stuff I just said. Thanks for being kind.