After a Day

June has nearly vanished, in a drunken haze of alcohol and other substances. I realized I've been to one barbecue, and have not done anything remotely summer-y. I suppose that's how it goes.

...

Work has been utter mayhem. Busy upon busy, and extremely frustrating. I do not ask for help from my higher-ups very often, and sometimes they do condescend to lend a hand, but really, when I do ask for help, it means I really need it, and to not receive said help, and get attitude in return, kind of makes me really angry.

In return my attitude tends to drift towards the dark side of the force, and when things happen like my coworker putting sugar in recipes mistaking it for salt, well, I can't say I give all that much of a damn. It kind of made the dressings taste better in a weird way. I just hope no diabetics eat that stuff.

And I've known the new assistant manager for quite a long time. We actually lived together back in college, and he's been sort of peripheral friend that way. So when he gives me major attitude, and tends to have the opinion of me that I still don't know what I'm doing at this job, even though I've been doing it almost two years now, well, I say fuck you to that. His power hard-on is beginning to show, and its almost insulting.

Just leave me alone, or help me and actually help me when you say you will. I'll be sort of more pleasant to work with, and not ruminating over the endless ways I could destroy our shared place of employment.

Thanks.

...

I'm considering taking a hiatus from the ladies. (And I might actually mean it this time... maybe...). Parts of me are still broken. And its apparent in my emotional state. Which waivers from time to time to being insufferably weepy and wanting attention, to not wanting anything at all.

She's a great girl, lots of fun to hang out with. Could learn to handle her liquor better, but I guess that comes with age and alcoholism. But something is not right about it all. Its not clicking into place, and even if it did, I'm not sure I'd want it to.

And I heard a rumor about the ex. The one about quitting your job. Because I really hope you don't plan on coming back to the restaurant. Because I know you stopped by there the other day, and had been "kicking around the idea of picking up shifts here and there..." Let's just say I'll be really pissed off if you do.

...

Ahem. Oh, and great news. Snowflake is off the medication. Which means he's really hyper. And also mentioned he's planning on moving sometime in the near future. Which some of you may think is a great boon, but guess where one of his destinations is going to be?

Austin!

.


...

And my latest internet addiction is taking over. I'll find myself cracking myself up all day long, thinking about some of the posts on this forum. I will also stay up really late, night after night, perusing the boards. I feel lame, and anti-social, yet strangely connected to this fascinating, obscene little world. I'd talk about it, but its against the rules. I'm already in danger.

...

And your random image for today, is Baby-Suit Man.

I'll Show You Mine...

Hey there. Today's random image is of George Carlin. Good night, sweet prince.

...

Summer drones on. Actually that's not true. Its really just flying by, and I've only recently done anything Summer-y. Like the barbecue. That's about it. I really got to get into some water, soon.

...

My band played its first show tonight. It almost didn't happen.

At first we got bumped because one of our members was still working, so we let two bands go on before us.

Then the cops came. Noise violation imminent, unless things got real quiet.

Then we almost got bumped entirely. I'll admit I got angry. But I understood the reasons. Actually the police are rather quite nice about the music shows offer at the venue, the local punk rock collective house. They give the tickets, but either people chip in, or we respectively carry on in whatever way we can.

I stormed out. Well, more like sauntered sullenly out the door, claiming I couldn't take it anymore. I understood the situation, but I was still mad.

Our first show! Granted I almost missed a super sweet band from NYC, who came all the way, on tour, to play my little town, my little punk rock collective house.

I ended up coming back after walking a block or so. I was still mad, but I decided to be a better sport about it. Though I just needed to leave for a bit, and be angry somewhere else.

Then we played only three songs of our four song set. He. Its only thirteen minutes long. Yeah, but its our first show! On borrowed instruments, so it kind of sounded bad. Kinda real bad, but knowing this band, this was like destiny, it should have happened this way. We did all right. People seemed very receptive. Those that stayed beyond the drama with the cops.

I also licked a man's sweaty nipples, yes, both of them, for two beers. We drank all our booze before we played, thinking we'd have played much sooner. I needed them. So I went up to the guy with the thirty pack of PBR in his satchel, and said, "I'll suck your titties for a beer." And he replied, "Ha, you said titties, plural, you gotta lick both of them..." And I did. That beer was delicious, I don't care what anyone says. His nips tasted of sweat, salt and beer. Yum.

This man also got completely naked during our three song set. I got to see his cock and balls. Right in front as we played our set. I couldn't really look up while I played. For obvious reasons. Cuz there was some dude's junk, in my face. And I licked his nipples just moments before.

This is why I love the punk rawk house.


...

I feel so good right now. Much needed attention from friends, very clutch. Good words of wisdom, concerning life and love.

Right now I'm going to eat the fuck out of some Ben and Jerry's. Good night.

Super Awesome Summer Fun!

First things first. Today's random image. One of you used to have a penchant for this kind of thing.

...

Goth Night was a huge success, mainly in the fact that I didn't even go.

Apparently there was some famous, Goth DJ appearing at the club that night, so a vast majority of Goths left their parent's basements to frolic in the night. And to stand in a super huge long line, which was mostly no fun.

So a friend and I decided to bounce, and pick up some booze and to do some porch sitting. Which kinda led to some awkwardness, considering I don't really drink straight liquor all night, and that's what I did, and well I'll be damned, I don't actually know my tolerance for that kind of stuff, and hence the blacked-out portion of the night in which I did foolish things that I don't really want to speak of right now. Nothing too bad, uh, I think... Although the dancing in the street was ridiculously fun.

...

Wednesday night led to more foolishness, though of a different kind. I played my second open-mic night, and it went over really well surprisingly.

Except for the extremely drunk man having a very difficult time. Who was going to be homeless in five weeks, without a job, and declared over and over again he was going "off the grid" to live in a tent.

He asked me to write a song for him, so I did, right there on the spot, and improvised my first tune in front of people. I didn't know I had it in me.

And then it got worse, when he asked to sing a song and have me play back-up. At first I played and sang back-up vocals for him, which got a laugh from the audience, until it struck me that he was really, really having a hard time, and was up there pouring out his drunken heart to people, who were all unresponsive and pissed at him for being that drunk asshole at the bar.

Halfway through the song I stopped singing, and he kept going, and I felt so awful. I wanted to stop, because I knew that people were just ridiculing him, and I was part of it. Granted that he himself was being outrageous and forcing his problems on other people, but still, a cry for help is a cry for help. And I've been there, in the place where he is/was, so I felt for him.

He thanked me, and I told him "I hope shit gets better for you," and I meant it.

...

And last night, crazy barbecue, which was fun, and then some drunken antics hanging out with a girl, who is kind of troubling me, and I'm not sure what I want to do with the situation.

Girls are crazy.

I, for my part, am probably not helping the situation. Reference drunken blacked-out antics from above. And my predisposition to be completely awkward in front of dames I like, so bah, why is this crap so complicated?

Enough whining.

We're hanging out again tonight, and this could be the straw that breaks the camel's back. We shall see.

...

And girls are crazy. Did I mention that? Especially when friend's girlfriends are extremely flirty and possessing massive cleavage...

I did my best to resist. But whoa man, when a friend's girlfriend is blatantly flirting with both a married man and you, uh, not cool.

Had to leave that situation quick.

...

All of this equals Super Awesome Summer Fun!

...

I'm having a good time.

...

Snowflake Must Fall

My social life is currently under attack by unwanted peoples.

There's a coworker, who I will affectionately refer to as Snowflake, who recently moved closer into town, and decided he's my new best friend.

I mean, I tolerate the guy, and sometimes have decent conversations, and sometimes he helps me out with work and stuff, but overall I can only handle him in small doses, and he's upping the medication.

He's decided to infiltrate the The Bar, and even the other bar I sometimes go to on a somewhat regular basis. And even tonight he will be tagging along for a trip to everybody's favorite Monday night event, Goth night at the local dance place I never go to. I made the mistake of talking about it with another coworker, and suddenly, boom, there he is right behind me, chiming in.

"I'll see you there..."

Doh.

I overheard him say the other day, "I always feel assured in going out because I know that (me) is going to be there."

Doh.

Not to mention I've been cultivating a friendship with a certain lady at work who he has an immense hard-on for. And he's kinda sorta creepy about the girls he likes.

First of all, he hits on every single new girl... I mean, every new girl. Like crazy. And then he pulls the creepiest of creepiest moves, and memorizes their schedules. Like, actively finds the posted schedules and studies them in depth, and probably even grabs digits off of them. I cannot confirm the number getting, but I wouldn't put it past him.

So one night at the The Bar, my new lady friend (and I mean friend, doesn't seem to be heading in that direction) and I are chilling with some beers, and he pops in, sees her, and is glued to her side the entire night, trying to find an in to throw down some lame comment, and just hovers there, like a vulture, waiting for an opportunity to strike.

Its sad to watch.

So girl and I have decided to come up with a fail safe plot to destroy Snowflake. It must be done.

...

I'm pleased to announce that L. Marge has come back to work. She spent a few days drowning in booze, and then got into detox.

I was actually glad to see her back on her feet. Despite my love of booze, I do have the fear that one day its going to take over, and could potentially destroy me.

...

Oh yeah, so I'm heading to Goth night tonight, despite knowing full well Snowflake will be there. I figure its a big enough dance club I can escape his vulture-ish ways.

But man oh man, its going to be scary. Not like in the way that Goth people are all dark and evil looking. That shit doesn't get me. What scares me is that they really do buy into that stuff, and that's how they live their lives. And Goth chicks, oh man, they are nuts! I mean, even crazier than normal girl crazy. It could be a really fun night.

...

and for no reason, this image:


Its my new favorite.

June

I have an irrational, unnatural fear of bees.

As far as I know I'm not allergic. Just a pansy whenever one comes snooping around me. That and I once slaughtered whole hives of bees at summer camp one year. I still fear retribution.

And right now there is a very large bumble bee sitting in my screened in porch, trying very hard to escape by attempting to fly through solid glass. I even have left the door open, hoping she'll fly through that, but alas, she's dedicated to getting through that window. Good luck buddy!

So now I have to smoke outside in the rain, because I simply cannot stand on the porch, due to my fears.

...

The rain is also vexing my evening plans to go dancing at the summer festival in town. Can't say I'm familiar with the bands, but I'm enjoying the act of dancing lately.

...

My friend S. has been putting out monthly mix cd's. I told him of my idea for an all 'track 6' mix, and he offered me the slot of June, which is the sixth month, so I worked on it all week and it is finished.

Though I'm really insecure about making mixes for people. Mainly due to being out of practice.

But the mix is done, and I'm handing them out soon.

I'm most proud of the cover art, which consists of a picture of Six from Battlestar Galactica.

Though I had to photocopy an issue of Playboy at work to get the picture, and despite my planning, a manager walked in on me using the photocopy machine, to photocopy a Playboy, which I claimed I was copying 'an article.' Even though it was totally a picture of boobs.

Oops!

He laughed it off though, threw his hands up and said he wanted no part of it, he saw and knew nothing.

Thanks dude.

...

My Mugstache

Hello. Please meet my new, awesome mugstache.

Not only is it a sweet representation of a fine fellow with a mustache, there is also a mustache guard, a small strip of whatever material this mug is made out of, that perfectly rests along the top of the mug, helping to keep coffee out of my mustache.

My friends are awesome. And give me gifts.

...

The humidity has climbed into numbers I do not care to repeat. While it may not be Texas hot and humid, it still is up there, and has been sucking the life out of me. Especially working in a small, enclosed kitchen that offers little to no ventilation. Luckily, working in the basement, or the 'prep cave' as I now refer to it as, offers a little more of a comfortable atmosphere, despite not being able to look outside via a window. Its a fair trade.

...

Sadly, I must tip the proverbial forty oz out to a friend, a fallen soldier. L. Marge, my favorite dishwasher, has left work for a little while.

I've been growing kind of fond of my Monday and Tuesday shifts with her. She, in her way, figured out exactly how to push my buttons, which was getting to be annoying. Like on the days when she knew I was hungover, which is often, she'd like to just talk to me, when she knew I wanted to be left alone. Always talking, that one. She even admitted that's what she was doing to me.

But I still loved her attitude for the most part. Going off on the boss about hiring new dishwashers, hounding her in fact. Making fun of our coworkers together, her snide remarks behind people's backs. Just not really caring for the most part, about much of anything work related. I don't blame her. No one wants to wash dishes.

And then endlessly telling me about her dogs.

She once fixed a china-cap (i.e. big strainer), by taking it to the old metal shop she used to be a welder at, back in the day. She fixed it herself, re-welding the bottom piece back together... such a weird gesture, from someone prone to not caring, suddenly taking a relatively cheap piece of equipment to get fixed, even though we have another one.

She fell off the wagon. Not sure about the entire story. But that's her business. I feel sort of guilty for all the stories about crazy bar nights that I've been telling her recently. Anyways, her replacement is actually a friend of a friend, who has keen musical tastes.

I found myself beside myself, realizing I didn't have to be in "silent running" mode all shift, and could actually have a conversation I wanted to be in.

So this one is for you, L. Marge. Come back soon.

We need Hammocks

My new work schedule is throwing me for a bit of a loop.

Perhaps its the summer time. And/or alcohol related, which relates to my social life. But I've seen the sun rise more times in the past two weeks than I have in years.

It does not help my situation, that I can roll into work five minutes before two in the afternoon.

What really gets me is trying to suddenly make the extra morning time more productive and fruitful, as it slowly counts down towards time for work.

Staying up really late hasn't exactly been productive either. Mainly due to the level of intoxicants in my body by that time. It hasn't stopped me from drunken texting people or messaging people at all hours of the night.

...

She was making a quiche. I had come over early thanks to my ride to her house, who came by to pick me up as he went for supplies to install her new drier. And we sat at her kitchen table, drinking refreshing beers and catching up on gossip in the community, eagerly awaiting the next episode of Battlestar Galactica.

We were discussing my recent attempts at trying to re-enter the mad, crazy world of dating, my list of potential suitors, she said something that really resonated.

"But, oh, you're still broken..."

Not broken hearted, just broken.

That's how I feel lately. Especially when it comes to my emotional state. I have weird mood swings, and usually find myself quite sentimental late at night, and craving attention and affection.

I said, "I don't necessarily want to be in love right now, or a relationship. But I want some random someone to profess they're love for me..."

...

My spies had done they're job.

The first step in avoiding a trap is knowing of its existence.

I laughed about it. My friend texted me a warning of ex-sightings at the bar. I did get grumpy about it, and pondered not going out, but decided to suck it up and go anyway.

I was sitting in the downstairs, debating on whether or not to go upstairs to dance the night away, when a friend texted me that she needed a dance partner. She came down stairs to find me, and we purchased beverages and I snuck upstairs, and we danced to some sweet soul records, despite my reservations about going upstairs.

We hung out for the rest of the evening. Stopping by people's porches, hanging out and talking , and then walking around town, to settle on my the steps of my porch, until the birds began they're singing for the day.

I've been enjoying these nights. Staying up to the wee hours, simply talking with fellow humans.

...

Well, its about that time. Time to rev up the drinking engine, and see what Saturday night has to offer...

Goddamn Banana Peels

The YMCA saved my life.

Its always an awkward thing, waking up in a relatively stranger's house, especially a stranger with roommates, who are awake and are standing between you and the bathroom.

Not wanting to be "that guy," though I had every right to. Duty calls in the morning. Its very serious business. But I opted out. And was Captain Clench walking down the streets of this town, a beautiful and bright, sunny Sunday afternoon.

And there, like a golden statue blazing in the sun, a beacon of hope, was the YMCA. Sweet relief.

...

She didn't show up for the burlesque show, which was probably for the best. Something was amiss that night anyway. The first two drinks I had sort of threw me off for some reason, and I found myself a little bit tipsy right from the start. Which didn't stop me from drinking more, but only ensured that I would do something stupid by the end of the night.

I felt foolish, standing there. So I sort of propositioned an old friend of mine. "I need a friend," I said. "Just sleep in my bed." And I meant it, though I think she took it the wrong way. I mean, we used to do that sort of thing. Just cuddling. Vows of not engaging in sex with each other. I figured it be ok, and I was feeling, reeling, in some sort of odd, emotional abyss.

So I went home. And got drunk dialed by another friend at four in the morning, which was sort of what I needed. Some sort of attention.

I don't know what's up with my emotional state these days. Something in me is screaming, I need fulfillment.

...

And last night. It was sweet. Staying up until 6:30 in the AM. Drinking steadily, I swear, her and I together together would probably be bad news, and end in AA. Like something from a Mountain Goats song off of Tallahassee.

But there we were, the sun fully risen, all of our bloodshot eyes, smoking cigarette after cigarette, talking about Battlestar Galactica, and playing Mario Kart drunkenly racing off the course.

I knew it wasn't going to end in a romantic happening. And I was ok with that. Though I was surprised, when I gave her the "I gots to go," line, and then she asked me to tuck her in, so sweetly. And then to sleep over. Which was good, because my tired ass didn't feel like huffing it all the way home.

But what a great night. A martini at the Cafe, watching the game, and then to a punk rock show at the punk rock house which always stirs the angry youth in me, watching my friend's hard core band. His birthday, a noise violation which everyone chipped in money so they could play three more songs. Three, one minute songs. Then to a bar for the Photo Booth, which I'm addicted to and will gladly shell out dollar bills for. And then to the The Bar, for shenanigans. And then she sent me the text, inviting me over for a night cap...

Pure magic.

And now I have to go to work. I'm going to zombie my way through this day, for sure.