So here I am sitting in my hotel room on the road trying to come up with an idea for my next installment for the chronicles of my life. Not really having much luck. Just kind of leaning back in the chair and half dozing off. But then I remember the "buy one drink, get one free" ticket that I was given for the hotel bar, and I wonder what time the bar opens...
Which then prompts an obscure memory from an earlier incident on the road. Now I'm no stranger to having a drink or two on the road, but that is usually only when I go out with other co-workers and we have nothing to do the next day but drive home. But this particular instance kind of caught me off guard in the middle of the week with still a few visits left the next day.
OK, I'm not sure if you're familiar with the "Manager's Party." If you've ever stayed in a hotel and been invited to one, then you know what I'm talking about. If not, then it's when a hotel says: "Thank you for staying with us and probably paying way too much, but we're going to attempt to make it up to you by giving you some free "food" and some cheap booze." (Jesus, do these people know how to say "thank you" to me or what? I only wish that every time someone fucked something up for me that they said "thank you" with food and booze.) Anyways, these little shindigs usually only happen once a week, and not even on the same day every week. So there's no point in trying to schedule any eating habits around them. It's like playing "Press Your Luck" with food. And the "food" is rarely quality. Most times it's cold wings or some other finger food that's supposed to be warm but isn't. But hey, it's free and that's my favorite kind of food. Oh and booze. It could be beer or you might luck out and it could be beer. Yep. Beer. That's usually about it. And usually something crappy. But again, it's free and I'll take it.
Getting back to my original point. This particular night I was in a hotel in south Georgia. They informed me of the Manager's Party that evening in the bar area. I settled in my room and felt "Galactus" hunger. So I decided to go check out the situation in the bar. It ended up being in the back bar away from the regular bar, probably to keep the seedy, cheap bastards away from the regular paying customers. No worries, I felt right at home back there. So I get there and ask what's available. The lady (and I use that term loosely) behind the bar tells me that they have wings (of course) and a few other finger foods (told ya) on the table, and that we can have whatever is on tap or whatever wells we want.
Me: "Pardon?"
Her: "Whatever beer or wells you would like"
Me: *grinning*
Her: "For the next 2 hours or so."
Me: *ginning & wringing my hands*
So I proceed to ask her what wells they have.
Her: "Tequila, Gin, Vodka, Bourbon..."
Me: "Stop! That one."
Her: "Bourbon? It's 'Ten High'."
Me: "Sure. Whatever. I'll have a bourbon and Diet Coke, please." (What? I was watching my weight.)
Her: "OK." *hands me the drink*
Me: "Guh!" *wincing*
About 5 minutes later...
Me: "May I have another please?" (I knew damn well I was going to regret those 5 words but I couldn't help myself. "Free", remember?)
So anyways, I lean against the bar with my urine and Diet Coke when an older man walks up to me and starts up a conversation with something about "Am I sure I'm old enough to be back here?". Now if you know me, I'm not one for people. Flat out, I hate them all; which makes it extremely ironic that I do what I do, and that I'm damned good at it too.
Well I figure, "What the hell? Let's play along with this doofus." So I give him the obligatory chuckle and we get to talking. He asks what I do, and I do the same like I actually give a shit. "Blah blah blah, conversation that I don't remember, blah, blah, blah." He actually turns out to be a funny and interesting old coot. A traveling salesman if I recall.
*skipping to the funny part*
I remember leaving the bar after the "lady" (who I'm sure was much more attractive when I left than when I came in.) tells us all that the time is up, but we're more than welcome to continue at the other bar. (Now that's actually a good good business plan. Get a few drinks in us, shut it down and point us in the direction of where there's more booze.)
But I'm sure that I couldn't count how many drinks I had on both hands, so I went back to the room.
Next thing I remember is waking up half on the bed, with one shoe on, my shirt half off but hanging on by the wrist, and hearing someone yell "Set it and forget it!" I look at the clock and it's 4:30am and I have no fucking clue what's going on. But I figure I need some more sleep and I go back to bed. As is.
I wake up, shower and head to the free breakfast bar they had in the restaurant. I walk by the front desk to see a couple of ladies (actual ladies this time) just smiling at me and I hear them giggle/laugh as I walk past. And I'm thinking "Oh shit. What did I do?" But I eat breakfast and sober up. I dread walking back past them but I have no choice. They do the same thing again which prompts me to ask them what exactly it was that I did the night before. They really wouldn't tell me, which makes it all that much worse (I shudder to think, since I'm capable of most anything when drink)
and I'm actually glad that little incident has been stricken from the record.
Then I had to go about my business the rest of the day all the while trying to remember what I did.
So there's a little tale from the road. As I finish, I realize it may not be as funny to you as it was to me, but it probably is to those of you that have gone through that at a Manager's Party too. Oh well, off to use my "buy one drink, get one free" coupon.
D
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
Monday, March 21, 2005
I am the Master of my Domain
Damn it.
Don't you hate it when you have the perfect thing to say or you make a joke/reference and noone that would appreciate it is around? That happens to me all the time now, esp. at work. I used to work with one of my best friends, so it was a constant for us to be making those references and a given that we would each catch them. Now it only rarely happens with another co-worker.
But worse than not being able to make a reference/joke at all is making one and having nobody get it at all.Which is just a wasted joke, and is usually nowhere near as funny when you try to redeliver it again or retell the story.
Such is the curse to have to work in an uptight environment and be the only pop culture-endowed person in the building. Not that they don't watch movies or TV or anything, I just mean who's gonna get my quip about "Galactus hungers" when my stomach rumbles, laugh when I say "The God damn Germans got nuthin' to do with it!" after someone says the word "germane", or get into an argument about "who would win in a fight between an astronaut and a caveman?" (Caveman)
I guess what I'm trying to say is that if you do have one of those friends who knows you all too well (a #4 or higher), then make sure you take advantage of all the opportunities you have to involve yourself in conversations about how Rebels were mass murderers for blowing up the Deathstar again with all those independent contracters in it ('cause hey, all the Stormtroopers know is killing and white uniforms).
D
Don't you hate it when you have the perfect thing to say or you make a joke/reference and noone that would appreciate it is around? That happens to me all the time now, esp. at work. I used to work with one of my best friends, so it was a constant for us to be making those references and a given that we would each catch them. Now it only rarely happens with another co-worker.
But worse than not being able to make a reference/joke at all is making one and having nobody get it at all.Which is just a wasted joke, and is usually nowhere near as funny when you try to redeliver it again or retell the story.
Such is the curse to have to work in an uptight environment and be the only pop culture-endowed person in the building. Not that they don't watch movies or TV or anything, I just mean who's gonna get my quip about "Galactus hungers" when my stomach rumbles, laugh when I say "The God damn Germans got nuthin' to do with it!" after someone says the word "germane", or get into an argument about "who would win in a fight between an astronaut and a caveman?" (Caveman)
I guess what I'm trying to say is that if you do have one of those friends who knows you all too well (a #4 or higher), then make sure you take advantage of all the opportunities you have to involve yourself in conversations about how Rebels were mass murderers for blowing up the Deathstar again with all those independent contracters in it ('cause hey, all the Stormtroopers know is killing and white uniforms).
D
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
That's why Evil will always win, because Good is dumb!
Chivalry
Main Entry: chiv·al·ry
Pronunciation: 'shi-v&l-rE
Function: noun
Inflected Form(s): plural -ries
Etymology: Middle English chivalrie, from Middle French chevalerie, from chevalier knight
1 : mounted men-at-arms
2 archaic a : martial valor b : knightly skill
3 : gallant or distinguished gentlemen
4 : the system, spirit, or customs of medieval knighthood
5 : the qualities of the ideal knight : chivalrous conduct
It's not dead.
In fact, I have the sore lower back to prove it. That would be from slinging a young woman over my shoulder in a knight in shining armor/good samaritan-type way. Not that she was heavy or anything, that's just from me being that hammered and not doing my pre-Viking Raid stretches.
Anyways, I wanted to ensure the safety of a young lady (the roommate of the hottie I am seeing), who was going to walk home from a downtown bar late at night BY HERSELF. Now, I'm sorry. I'm a Southern boy. I'll never be able to fight the urge to try and protect a lady, and I felt overly compelled to make sure she got home in one safe piece.
I know you're probably still wondering about the whole "me slinging her over my shoulder" thing. It was merely an attempt to show her that I was not going to let her walk home alone, and that if need be, I would carry her all the way back. Thank God she came to her senses, 'cause I think I felt 2 or 3 discs shoot out of my back. Once again, not because she was heavy or anything, but because I seem to think that I gain some added strength or something when I drink. And that night I probably could have given The Thing a run for his money.
So anyways, we got back safe and in 1 piece. And had a nice little conversation when we got there to boot.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that chivalry is NOT dead, and in fact it feels much like a sore lower back.
D
Main Entry: chiv·al·ry
Pronunciation: 'shi-v&l-rE
Function: noun
Inflected Form(s): plural -ries
Etymology: Middle English chivalrie, from Middle French chevalerie, from chevalier knight
1 : mounted men-at-arms
2 archaic a : martial valor b : knightly skill
3 : gallant or distinguished gentlemen
4 : the system, spirit, or customs of medieval knighthood
5 : the qualities of the ideal knight : chivalrous conduct
It's not dead.
In fact, I have the sore lower back to prove it. That would be from slinging a young woman over my shoulder in a knight in shining armor/good samaritan-type way. Not that she was heavy or anything, that's just from me being that hammered and not doing my pre-Viking Raid stretches.
Anyways, I wanted to ensure the safety of a young lady (the roommate of the hottie I am seeing), who was going to walk home from a downtown bar late at night BY HERSELF. Now, I'm sorry. I'm a Southern boy. I'll never be able to fight the urge to try and protect a lady, and I felt overly compelled to make sure she got home in one safe piece.
I know you're probably still wondering about the whole "me slinging her over my shoulder" thing. It was merely an attempt to show her that I was not going to let her walk home alone, and that if need be, I would carry her all the way back. Thank God she came to her senses, 'cause I think I felt 2 or 3 discs shoot out of my back. Once again, not because she was heavy or anything, but because I seem to think that I gain some added strength or something when I drink. And that night I probably could have given The Thing a run for his money.
So anyways, we got back safe and in 1 piece. And had a nice little conversation when we got there to boot.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that chivalry is NOT dead, and in fact it feels much like a sore lower back.
D
Thursday, March 03, 2005
And they all rose in unison and chanted: "Take-your-hat-off!"
I apologize in advance if this is either hard to follow or just doesn't make any friggin' sense at all.
Ok. I'm a big believer in supporting your school (we're gonna run with College/University on this one kids). The school that you attend that is, or should I say, "especially the school you attend." And it really pisses me off to no end when I see people, especially students, wearing another school's apparel around town (campus, more specifically) or talking about how great their team is in my bar (alright I neither work there nor go 6 nights a week, but damnit it's my bar).
So I've tried to work through my never-ending frustration and organize my thoughts (imagine that- me organizing) into a few specific points:
1. apparel
2. fan support
3. my approval
Apparel
If you go to a school, you should wear that school's apparel (Sorry junior college kids, but this doesn't really apply to you as you are probably doing a good thing and working your way into a larger school. But extra credit points to you if you do wear it.).
This really should be an automatic and habitual thing. A no-brainer if you will. You go to a school. You buy apparel that shows you attend and support your school. You wear that apparel like it's going out of style, or never going out of style- your choice. You wear that stuff until it fades into obscurity and becomes just another white t-shirt or people ask you what's on your hat because it's now an all brown mess that doesn't remotely resemble your color or logo anymore.
You do NOT wear another school's apparel because it's "cool" or because you're a "fan" (casual or fairweather fan really), or especially because you wanted to, or still want to, go to that school but couldn't get in. That shows that you are really just a conformist douche bag, not a real fan or a friggin' moron respectively.
It's a slap in the face to every single student or alumni that chose to go the school you attend, and proudly supports them; when you go to your school wishing you were somewhere else.
Fan Support
Now that doesn't just mean pulling for your team when you're done pulling for your "other" team. That doesn't mean missing one of your team's games because you were able to get tickets to another school's game on the same day. That ESPECIALLY (and I actually get nauseous when I think of this) doesn't mean pulling for your "other" team against your current team if they do actually play each other.
That means pulling for your team no matter who they play and knowing that if someone talks trash about your team (even if it's Women's Swimming & Diving- hey, some of those chicks are hot), you'll be there to take up the fight and talk some trash yourself. Even if all you have at your disposal is "Oh yeah? You suck! Go back to (insert city here)!"
My Approval
I give it my "OK" for you to be a fan of another school if said school meets the following criteria:
1. Said school is not in the same state or conference as the school you attend. (Being a fan of a conference rival is grounds for an ass whipping)
2. Your athletic teams will never play said school's teams.
3. Noone will heckle you anywhere on or off campus for supporting said school.
4. I personally feel that it is OK for you to like said school.
Alright. That's all the organizing I could do for that. Rage is a hard thing to harness and bottle. So it's not the most persuasive argument or empowering soap-boxing, but that's what I was able to get out. It all boils down to this for me:
I'd rather my school (MY school goddamnit!) be half the size it is and be full of rabid fans, than the size it is and have to suffer the pains of seeing other schools' crap wherever I go.
If you want to banter back and forth and try to prove a differing opinion, feel free to visit some friends.
Oh yeah, one last thing: GATA.
D
Ok. I'm a big believer in supporting your school (we're gonna run with College/University on this one kids). The school that you attend that is, or should I say, "especially the school you attend." And it really pisses me off to no end when I see people, especially students, wearing another school's apparel around town (campus, more specifically) or talking about how great their team is in my bar (alright I neither work there nor go 6 nights a week, but damnit it's my bar).
So I've tried to work through my never-ending frustration and organize my thoughts (imagine that- me organizing) into a few specific points:
1. apparel
2. fan support
3. my approval
Apparel
If you go to a school, you should wear that school's apparel (Sorry junior college kids, but this doesn't really apply to you as you are probably doing a good thing and working your way into a larger school. But extra credit points to you if you do wear it.).
This really should be an automatic and habitual thing. A no-brainer if you will. You go to a school. You buy apparel that shows you attend and support your school. You wear that apparel like it's going out of style, or never going out of style- your choice. You wear that stuff until it fades into obscurity and becomes just another white t-shirt or people ask you what's on your hat because it's now an all brown mess that doesn't remotely resemble your color or logo anymore.
You do NOT wear another school's apparel because it's "cool" or because you're a "fan" (casual or fairweather fan really), or especially because you wanted to, or still want to, go to that school but couldn't get in. That shows that you are really just a conformist douche bag, not a real fan or a friggin' moron respectively.
It's a slap in the face to every single student or alumni that chose to go the school you attend, and proudly supports them; when you go to your school wishing you were somewhere else.
Fan Support
Now that doesn't just mean pulling for your team when you're done pulling for your "other" team. That doesn't mean missing one of your team's games because you were able to get tickets to another school's game on the same day. That ESPECIALLY (and I actually get nauseous when I think of this) doesn't mean pulling for your "other" team against your current team if they do actually play each other.
That means pulling for your team no matter who they play and knowing that if someone talks trash about your team (even if it's Women's Swimming & Diving- hey, some of those chicks are hot), you'll be there to take up the fight and talk some trash yourself. Even if all you have at your disposal is "Oh yeah? You suck! Go back to (insert city here)!"
My Approval
I give it my "OK" for you to be a fan of another school if said school meets the following criteria:
1. Said school is not in the same state or conference as the school you attend. (Being a fan of a conference rival is grounds for an ass whipping)
2. Your athletic teams will never play said school's teams.
3. Noone will heckle you anywhere on or off campus for supporting said school.
4. I personally feel that it is OK for you to like said school.
Alright. That's all the organizing I could do for that. Rage is a hard thing to harness and bottle. So it's not the most persuasive argument or empowering soap-boxing, but that's what I was able to get out. It all boils down to this for me:
I'd rather my school (MY school goddamnit!) be half the size it is and be full of rabid fans, than the size it is and have to suffer the pains of seeing other schools' crap wherever I go.
If you want to banter back and forth and try to prove a differing opinion, feel free to visit some friends.
Oh yeah, one last thing: GATA.
D
Wednesday, March 02, 2005
Continuity is key, folks.
Alright, maybe it's just me and my ever-growing condition of OCD, but I really do get a bit annoyed when things have no or are taken out of their original continuity. Not that I prefer everything to be all linear and the like. On the contrary, I like to be able to go apeshit, not follow directions and do whatever I please in some situations. But not when it comes to TV! I am a firm believer in airing TV shows in the correct order: the order they were written. Hey, who better to figure what order they should be shown than the people writing it? Otherwise, small things don't line up and potentially someone may be left out of the loop on certain situations or jokes.
Case in point, I was watching one of my new favorite shows (or favorite new shows), Committed last night. I've been noticing quite a few episodes have been aired out of continuity, and for someone who very much identifies heavily with Nate (the handsome lead of course), this aggrivates the hell out of me. Luckily it hasn't taken 1 single thing away from the show for me (as I still relate to Nate and am searching for my Marni), but is further re-inforcing the fact that I must buy the series on DVD when it comes out. Then, all things will be right with the world; unless I'm already freaking out about something else. And chances are extremely good that'll be the case.
D
Case in point, I was watching one of my new favorite shows (or favorite new shows), Committed last night. I've been noticing quite a few episodes have been aired out of continuity, and for someone who very much identifies heavily with Nate (the handsome lead of course), this aggrivates the hell out of me. Luckily it hasn't taken 1 single thing away from the show for me (as I still relate to Nate and am searching for my Marni), but is further re-inforcing the fact that I must buy the series on DVD when it comes out. Then, all things will be right with the world; unless I'm already freaking out about something else. And chances are extremely good that'll be the case.
D
Quicker Than A Hiccup
Alright. Anyone who knows me knows that I am a "closet geek", meaning that I don't look the part but I am a fully-functioning geek on the inside. At any given chance (and I relish those opportunities), I can bust out with a barrage of information pertaining to comic books, cartoons, science fiction, pop culture, etc... So, in order to keep from filling this blog with that sort of rubbish, I have orchestrated the creation of another blog that is dedicated to the indulgence of my inner geek. Ladies and germs, boys and ghouls, I give you: The Longbox. Impressive, no? No? I know, I'm still working on it.
Oh, and when I figure out how to post pics/images on here, I'll be loading this bad boy up. One thing at a time, ladies. One thing at a time.
D
Oh, and when I figure out how to post pics/images on here, I'll be loading this bad boy up. One thing at a time, ladies. One thing at a time.
D
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
You Down with OCD? Yeah, You Know Me!
So... basically this damned blog is my new "obsession" for the day. It's like that part in Pump Up the Volume where Mark is calling Mr. Deaver and knows he's gonna get caught, but he just can't help himself.
Every time I try to pull myself away and do something work-related or productive (God forbid I actually do something while I'm here), I think of something else that I could add into the blog.
- Now I love the Internet, don't get me wrong. It's a wonderful place to get any and all information you could ever need and to commune with likeminded individuals. HOWEVER, I hate the fact that when I try to register a name or username, I will inevitably have to go through 37 different things before I'm allowed to get one I want. I mean, how can there actually be someone out there who is thinking the exact same thing that I am but only 10 seconds or so ahead of me. And am I doing that to someone else too? I mean let's say I wanted register "bloodfart" (not that I tried), and I have to roll with one like "bloodfart09". Who in the Hell else is trying to register that? Come to think of it, I wanna meet bloodfarts 1 through 8. We might just have a good bit in common. Like I said: "likeminded individuals". Think about it kids.
- If you look to the right side of the boat you'll notice my "Links" section. It's just a short collection of sites I tend to frequent while "working". ***Update: I have actually moved a good deal of these links to my other blog. They just fit better there.***If you have any that you want me to add, I'll be more than happy to do so if you let me know. After I check it out of course. I can't blind link anymore, not after that whole Jennifer Love Hewitt fiasco (I'm pretty sure that JLH never really was in that Mexican donkey porn). But I digress.
- I notice that some of my friends are doing a whole "100 things about me that you might or might not know". That sounds like just the thing that I need to (not) do. It's so friggin' tempting. And who the Hell am I kidding? You all know well and good that I'm going to do it. It's just a matter of time. Kind of like Kenny getting killed, it just a matter of waiting it out until it happens.
- Sometimes my brain works in weird connective ways. I think of one thing, then that leads to another, and so on and so forth. It's a chain. Kind of like the one in your toilet: it just goes farther into the toilet with every link. Anyways, what I was getting to was that I don't think Mitch Hedberg gets enough credit or exposure as he should. Man's a genius. Period. Is that redundant? To put a "." after writing the word "period"? If you didn't get how I got to Mitch Hedberg in my though process, here it is: Kenny - South Park - Comedy Central - stand up comedy - Mitch Hederg - my rant about redundant punctuation.
D
Every time I try to pull myself away and do something work-related or productive (God forbid I actually do something while I'm here), I think of something else that I could add into the blog.
- Now I love the Internet, don't get me wrong. It's a wonderful place to get any and all information you could ever need and to commune with likeminded individuals. HOWEVER, I hate the fact that when I try to register a name or username, I will inevitably have to go through 37 different things before I'm allowed to get one I want. I mean, how can there actually be someone out there who is thinking the exact same thing that I am but only 10 seconds or so ahead of me. And am I doing that to someone else too? I mean let's say I wanted register "bloodfart" (not that I tried), and I have to roll with one like "bloodfart09". Who in the Hell else is trying to register that? Come to think of it, I wanna meet bloodfarts 1 through 8. We might just have a good bit in common. Like I said: "likeminded individuals". Think about it kids.
- If you look to the right side of the boat you'll notice my "Links" section. It's just a short collection of sites I tend to frequent while "working". ***Update: I have actually moved a good deal of these links to my other blog. They just fit better there.***If you have any that you want me to add, I'll be more than happy to do so if you let me know. After I check it out of course. I can't blind link anymore, not after that whole Jennifer Love Hewitt fiasco (I'm pretty sure that JLH never really was in that Mexican donkey porn). But I digress.
- I notice that some of my friends are doing a whole "100 things about me that you might or might not know". That sounds like just the thing that I need to (not) do. It's so friggin' tempting. And who the Hell am I kidding? You all know well and good that I'm going to do it. It's just a matter of time. Kind of like Kenny getting killed, it just a matter of waiting it out until it happens.
- Sometimes my brain works in weird connective ways. I think of one thing, then that leads to another, and so on and so forth. It's a chain. Kind of like the one in your toilet: it just goes farther into the toilet with every link. Anyways, what I was getting to was that I don't think Mitch Hedberg gets enough credit or exposure as he should. Man's a genius. Period. Is that redundant? To put a "." after writing the word "period"? If you didn't get how I got to Mitch Hedberg in my though process, here it is: Kenny - South Park - Comedy Central - stand up comedy - Mitch Hederg - my rant about redundant punctuation.
D
"Rectum?! Damned near killed 'em!"
All right. I may have developed a super secret formula for my blog. Goes a little something like this:
1. Open a posting window in the A.M.
2. Update blog/ Insert beautiful prose/ Tell you guys about something that made me laugh so hard I snorted/ Whatever
3. Publish that portion at the end of the day so as to hopefully *fingers crossed* only have 1 section a day or so.
4. Revel in the adoration of billions of internet worshipers.
Repeat steps as necessary.
So that's it. Sounds like a workable situation, right? Right? So if it seems to be faltering, lacking, or just outright sucking; let me know and I'll change it after first cursing you, cursing your mother (repeatedly & vehemently) and a short bout of crying under my desk.
D
1. Open a posting window in the A.M.
2. Update blog/ Insert beautiful prose/ Tell you guys about something that made me laugh so hard I snorted/ Whatever
3. Publish that portion at the end of the day so as to hopefully *fingers crossed* only have 1 section a day or so.
4. Revel in the adoration of billions of internet worshipers.
Repeat steps as necessary.
So that's it. Sounds like a workable situation, right? Right? So if it seems to be faltering, lacking, or just outright sucking; let me know and I'll change it after first cursing you, cursing your mother (repeatedly & vehemently) and a short bout of crying under my desk.
D
Hmmm...Where to start?
Well, let's see now. My first "blog." Probably should start off by saying something completely witty and memorable, but from looking at the title of this blog, I think you'll realize very quickly that ain't gonna happen. Maybe I should start off by telling you what you can expect to see here and about how often you can expect to see it:
What You Can Expect To See Here:
1. Pretty much whatever happens to wander through my brain that I can retain long enough to post for you fine-looking internet dwellers.
A. Observances about my personal life (as convoluted and frustrating as it may be)
B. Observances about work (or co-workers)
C. Observances about anything else that doesn't fit in either "life" or "work"
D. Obervances about how I have a penchant for strange words like "obervances" or "penchant"
How Often You Can Expect To See It:
About as often as I can. It may be every ten minutes (seriously, I think about a lot of random crap) or it may be once a week. I dunno. Seeing as how I'm gonna be doing this in a place and at a time when I am most assuredly not supposed to be doing this (read as "work"), it will be when I can get to it.
There you have it. Don't expect Shakespeare or even Garner, but you'll most definitely get "me".
D
What You Can Expect To See Here:
1. Pretty much whatever happens to wander through my brain that I can retain long enough to post for you fine-looking internet dwellers.
A. Observances about my personal life (as convoluted and frustrating as it may be)
B. Observances about work (or co-workers)
C. Observances about anything else that doesn't fit in either "life" or "work"
D. Obervances about how I have a penchant for strange words like "obervances" or "penchant"
How Often You Can Expect To See It:
About as often as I can. It may be every ten minutes (seriously, I think about a lot of random crap) or it may be once a week. I dunno. Seeing as how I'm gonna be doing this in a place and at a time when I am most assuredly not supposed to be doing this (read as "work"), it will be when I can get to it.
There you have it. Don't expect Shakespeare or even Garner, but you'll most definitely get "me".
D
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