I’d like to go ahead and apologize to the three of you (or so) that actually read this for the lack of recent updates. When I had started this blog thing out, I had planned to pretty much write updates in my spare time at work and I’ve gotten busy enough to not have the time to sit down and write anything of substance. I guess I’ll take this blog post in the direction of a general update into my life over the past month or so that I’ve been “absent.”
So the past month can pretty much be summed up as working on weekdays and going downtown on the weekends. There really isn’t much of interest that I can write about work that would make anyone want to continue reading so I’ll just skip ahead to the more interesting parts. The main “crew” so to speak that goes out on the weekends includes myself, and JP. Occasionally (when we can convince/kidnap them), we are also joined by Tony or Will. There are two staples we can really talk about that involve our downtown activities. The staple bars include, in no set order, Stool Pigeons and the Pourch. The other staple to mention is our drink. We pretty much also work our way through as much red bull and vodka as we can manage with the occasional liquid cocaine shot thrown into the mix.
There is a lot I can say about these nights but I’ll start off with a general overview of what goes down. We usually part out in this sketchy pay lot behind Stoolies before making out way into the back entrance. After making our way inside, we usually try and get a booth. Once seated, most nights we’re greeted by our favorite waitress (if that’s what they’re called there) Nadia. I’ll get more into this later but she’s this newly drunk-legal person that always helps in making a good night. So we’ll all get nice and primed in Stoolies before heading out to the Pourch.
Now, I’ve had some moderately annoying experiences at the Pourch. The main one involved me ordering one beer and finding out the bar staff is trying to charge me for a lot more. Being called a liar a few times isn’t really cool. This one bartender there swore she served me more than one drink until finally realizing I was not the person she was thinking of. So that was cool, until I realized that they had charged my credit card about five times for various amounts at the end of the night. Anyways, we continue our drinking at the Pourch and there is this little ritual that happens out there nearly every time we go. JP and I both get approached by women. Now, this usually isn’t a bad thing until they start mentioning their husbands and potential future divorces. I’m not sure what it is about the Pourch but it seems to be a haven for the unhappily married. We hear all about their lives, what they’re doing with themselves, how much money they have, the shortcomings of their husbands and other such small talk. We can pretty much sum up our experiences of going out as meeting absolutely bat-shit crazy people. All the various life experiences I hopefully will never be intimately involved with.
So in essence, we go out, get a lil’ drunk, and have a good time.
Let’s see, what should be next in my latest update. Well, I guess I can go into the night we went out partying with Nadia. JP, Tony, and I were at Stoolies the night before this all happened. Nadia of course was our waitress and she let us know that at midnight she would be turning the ever-exciting age of twenty-one. Being the good-natured people that we are, we all discretely bought her shots after midnight while she was still working. She invited us all out the following night for her birthday shindig, which would be starting out at Stoolies (staple, duh) and wherever from there.
Unfortunately, Tony had a prior engagement of some sort for that night so it was just JP and I heading downtown to partake in the festivities. We hit up Stoolies and the Pourch with no word from Nadia. No responses through text or calling so we just decided to say f’ it. We left the bars, headed home, and decided to stop at Blockbuster since it was an early night to grab a movie or game or something. As we’re perusing the choices in Blockbuster, guess who calls? With that, and a quick stop at my condo, we were back on our way downtown. I believe it was a little bit past twelve when we finally got back to Stoolies and met up with the birthday girl. After being introduced to about ten different people and a few more drinks down we headed to a bar that neither JP or I had been to before, Jackpot.
Now Jackpot was quite the interesting place. It reminded me of the semi-punk crowd from high school, but the music was definitely not that. Good music, attractive women, cheap alcohol, and a freaking amazing air conditioning system made it enough for JP and I to agree that we’ll be coming back. So pretty much the night went like that, a bunch of actually really cool people out having a good time. They’re definitely a crowd I’d hang out with again.
Oh, I know what I can write about next (making this the longest blog post ever). These last few weeks I’ve been actively looking for a house to buy. It’s something I’ve really wanted to do for a while now and I’m in a situation where I’m ready to make that jump. Well, I’ve gotten my real estate broker and loan stuff in order and finally went out one weekend to check out places. It just so happens that the very first place we went to in a list of around six was the place I absolutely wanted. It had an amazing floor plan. It had a huge living room with a really high ceiling, two decks, and two bedrooms on opposite sides of the place, and it was definitely within my budget. Well, I took about a day to fully decide this was the place I wanted (I’m indecisive, damnit) but I called up my broker and met with her a half hour later to put the offer in. Now, the fun part of this was finding out that the seller had accepted another offer about an hour before I had gone in to do so. Moderate disappoint aside, the good thing about this happening was that it taught me to move quickly on a place if I like it. That and I’ve been able to nearly triple what I had saved up for a down payment and closing costs. I will finally have a place of my own as soon as I can find it.
I do think this is more than enough information for the blog. Hopefully I won’t be taking any more extended breaks in my posting. Leave comments if you’d like and uhm, stay tuned.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
I CANNOT WAIT UNTIL NEXT WEEKEND
Sorry for the lack of posts, I’ve actually been getting a tad bit busy. This last weekend was pretty damn crazy for those uninvolved in the events that took place. I guess we can start with the end of work on Friday.
I get back from one of my glorious short breaks to see that I have missed an instant message from my sister. She wasn’t online anymore so I decided to text her to see what was up. Well, the second after I finished sending the text to her I see that my Dad is giving me a call. The best thing about this is how lazy I am with my phone contacts. The cell number my Dad is currently using used to be the one that my Mom had, and I had set up my phone a long time ago to have a picture of her pop up on the screen whenever she calls. Of course I never really changed it. Now, whenever I see a picture of my Mom, I know it’s my Dad calling. I am only slightly retarded.
Well, it was pretty hard to hear what he was saying on the line but what I did figure out is that he had just been in a car accident and could use some help emptying out the crumpled mess that were the remains of his car. I informed the proper people in the office and left a few minutes early to help out my Dad. The only other thing I had heard on the line was that everyone indeed was okay. Knowing my luck in all this, traffic was a true bitch on the highway. I finally make it home after like forty minutes (note to my awesome readers: It normally takes me about twenty-five minutes to get home). Well, once inside I greet my Dad and it’s obvious he’s still a little shaken up by everything. After a few minutes we head off to the auto insurance guy to lay down the claim.
Once we get seated in the insurance office with the guy who is taking down the claim I finally hear the whole story of what happened. My dad was in the left lane of a divided road (like, two lanes in the opposite directions and he was in the left lane of the two lanes going his direction). As he was approaching an intersection he sees that there is a van waiting to turn left across his lane onto some other road. He has a green light so he keeps on down the road. Right before he gets to the intersection, the van decides to pull out and make the turn. Of course, she (and no I’m not making all bad drivers female, this one just happened to be) didn’t time things too well. My dad tried to swerve off away from her van but ended up clipping the backside, spinning her around, and ultimately knocking the van over. This is when my Dad pointed out that the light for him was still green after he hit her. So my Dads car is pretty squished, airbags deployed and everything. Well he gets out and tries to help her out of her van and sees that she had two kids in the back. They get out just fine, crying because they’re scared or surprised or whatever. Well, she ended up being somewhat pinned in the van so emergency response had to take their time in getting her out. The cop was there didn’t ticket my Dad and he didn’t believe that the woman got a ticket either. So, she was sent out to the hospital for observation just to make sure there were no serious injuries and that was pretty much all that my Dad knew.
Of course, we were filing the claim on her insurance because she had pulled out in front of my Dad when he had a green light. Even if her light was green, she was trying to turn left across oncoming traffic where the rule is pretty much ‘Yield ‘til its clear’. So, the shitty thing in all this is we come to find out for some reason she’s trying to claim the accident on my Dads insurance. I’m not quite sure how she places the blames there but then again I’ll take a neutral point and say I only heard one side of the story. (The right side...). So, that was that. After leaving the insurance guys office we head to his car and load everything we could get out into my car and head home. Later that night I ended up going out drinking at Sammy’s and Stoolies. And yes, Stoolies is Stool Pigeons for those who don’t know. That was a fun night to an overall shitty day.
I’ll go ahead and fast forward to the next night and the less exciting but quite interesting set of events. So Natalie, my best female friend, calls me up and pretty much says, “Come over! We’re drinking and we’re going to sing karaoke.” For those who don’t know me all too well, I love singing. I fully accept that I’m not very good. Hell, there’s about a 105% chance I wouldn’t make it past the first round on American Idol, but I still do it all the damn time. I grab a microphone (because hers just isn’t working) and head out to her place.
Once there, I see how retarded good ol’ Nat really is. Her “karaoke” machine is basically a tape deck from the early 80’s. It had an FM radio on it and dual tape decks. Oh yeah, the microphone jack doesn’t work. So we decide to just stick to drinking and watching like MTV Hits or something for music. As the night goes on we’re all getting fairly well off and this guy Jason shows up. This is a kid I met a long time ago through Nat. He’s a cool guy, but I really don’t know him that well.
So Jason has about three drinks and gets utterly shit-faced. We didn’t really know this until we all came to the conclusion that he went missing. We found him lying on the grass next to his car. Like, he was lying on the ground, barely breathing and puking. So, like any other responsible set of adults, we pick him up, bring him inside and throw him on the couch. Bad idea. He pukes there. We move him to the shower. More puke.
We ask him if he took or had anything before he came and he replies, “Uhnhmmhyah”. Okay, “Do you want us to call an ambulance?”
“Unhmhhmmyah.”
So we call an ambulance. The police, fire department, and an ambulance show up. They eventually get him out of the house and cart him off to the hospital. That was about at 5:00AM. We didn’t find out until the next morning that his BAC was .258. Yeah, that’s pretty damn dangerous.
And, that was my weekend. Until next blog…
I get back from one of my glorious short breaks to see that I have missed an instant message from my sister. She wasn’t online anymore so I decided to text her to see what was up. Well, the second after I finished sending the text to her I see that my Dad is giving me a call. The best thing about this is how lazy I am with my phone contacts. The cell number my Dad is currently using used to be the one that my Mom had, and I had set up my phone a long time ago to have a picture of her pop up on the screen whenever she calls. Of course I never really changed it. Now, whenever I see a picture of my Mom, I know it’s my Dad calling. I am only slightly retarded.
Well, it was pretty hard to hear what he was saying on the line but what I did figure out is that he had just been in a car accident and could use some help emptying out the crumpled mess that were the remains of his car. I informed the proper people in the office and left a few minutes early to help out my Dad. The only other thing I had heard on the line was that everyone indeed was okay. Knowing my luck in all this, traffic was a true bitch on the highway. I finally make it home after like forty minutes (note to my awesome readers: It normally takes me about twenty-five minutes to get home). Well, once inside I greet my Dad and it’s obvious he’s still a little shaken up by everything. After a few minutes we head off to the auto insurance guy to lay down the claim.
Once we get seated in the insurance office with the guy who is taking down the claim I finally hear the whole story of what happened. My dad was in the left lane of a divided road (like, two lanes in the opposite directions and he was in the left lane of the two lanes going his direction). As he was approaching an intersection he sees that there is a van waiting to turn left across his lane onto some other road. He has a green light so he keeps on down the road. Right before he gets to the intersection, the van decides to pull out and make the turn. Of course, she (and no I’m not making all bad drivers female, this one just happened to be) didn’t time things too well. My dad tried to swerve off away from her van but ended up clipping the backside, spinning her around, and ultimately knocking the van over. This is when my Dad pointed out that the light for him was still green after he hit her. So my Dads car is pretty squished, airbags deployed and everything. Well he gets out and tries to help her out of her van and sees that she had two kids in the back. They get out just fine, crying because they’re scared or surprised or whatever. Well, she ended up being somewhat pinned in the van so emergency response had to take their time in getting her out. The cop was there didn’t ticket my Dad and he didn’t believe that the woman got a ticket either. So, she was sent out to the hospital for observation just to make sure there were no serious injuries and that was pretty much all that my Dad knew.
Of course, we were filing the claim on her insurance because she had pulled out in front of my Dad when he had a green light. Even if her light was green, she was trying to turn left across oncoming traffic where the rule is pretty much ‘Yield ‘til its clear’. So, the shitty thing in all this is we come to find out for some reason she’s trying to claim the accident on my Dads insurance. I’m not quite sure how she places the blames there but then again I’ll take a neutral point and say I only heard one side of the story. (The right side...). So, that was that. After leaving the insurance guys office we head to his car and load everything we could get out into my car and head home. Later that night I ended up going out drinking at Sammy’s and Stoolies. And yes, Stoolies is Stool Pigeons for those who don’t know. That was a fun night to an overall shitty day.
I’ll go ahead and fast forward to the next night and the less exciting but quite interesting set of events. So Natalie, my best female friend, calls me up and pretty much says, “Come over! We’re drinking and we’re going to sing karaoke.” For those who don’t know me all too well, I love singing. I fully accept that I’m not very good. Hell, there’s about a 105% chance I wouldn’t make it past the first round on American Idol, but I still do it all the damn time. I grab a microphone (because hers just isn’t working) and head out to her place.
Once there, I see how retarded good ol’ Nat really is. Her “karaoke” machine is basically a tape deck from the early 80’s. It had an FM radio on it and dual tape decks. Oh yeah, the microphone jack doesn’t work. So we decide to just stick to drinking and watching like MTV Hits or something for music. As the night goes on we’re all getting fairly well off and this guy Jason shows up. This is a kid I met a long time ago through Nat. He’s a cool guy, but I really don’t know him that well.
So Jason has about three drinks and gets utterly shit-faced. We didn’t really know this until we all came to the conclusion that he went missing. We found him lying on the grass next to his car. Like, he was lying on the ground, barely breathing and puking. So, like any other responsible set of adults, we pick him up, bring him inside and throw him on the couch. Bad idea. He pukes there. We move him to the shower. More puke.
We ask him if he took or had anything before he came and he replies, “Uhnhmmhyah”. Okay, “Do you want us to call an ambulance?”
“Unhmhhmmyah.”
So we call an ambulance. The police, fire department, and an ambulance show up. They eventually get him out of the house and cart him off to the hospital. That was about at 5:00AM. We didn’t find out until the next morning that his BAC was .258. Yeah, that’s pretty damn dangerous.
And, that was my weekend. Until next blog…
Thursday, March 27, 2008
It’s kind of nice.
This is a "happy" post. I hate you all just a tiny bit. I was scared when I started working at my new job. It seemed a disorganized mess. The first day I had the generic new hire training, which I most likely fell asleep for. It was painful, but so are most “training” days. After I managed to get through my first day I met up with the person who was going to be my boss and I found out where I would be sitting for the next few weeks. Everyone in the office who works the same job congregates in this tight little floor space of cubicles. Of course, knowing my luck, that was all full. My cube was down the hall, across the pond, and somewhere in Africa.
I really didn’t mind the location. I was moderately close to a window, and for most of the day it was quiet. I got to enjoy this seclusion only for a couple of weeks. One day, when it was almost quitting time, I was informed that my cube was being given to some new hire that would be assisting someone who also worked in my part of Africa. (Note to my few readers, I really don’t work in Africa. Let’s be clear on that one. I know you’re all pretty gullible but I actually work in North Carolina…Surprise, surprise). This was also, when I was informed that I would be moving a lot closer to all of my coworkers. The sad thing here is that there still wasn’t a spot for me so I would be getting a makeshift cube. While having this conversation, I noticed my future desk being wheeled off to the back side of a cube. My new “cube” would actually only have two walls.
As long as I had a computer with e-mail and internet access it really wouldn’t bother me all that much. I did NOTHING at all during those first few weeks besides online training. Luckily I was in the process of having a few projects transfer to me. It’s weird to say I was happy to be getting some work. Anyways, on the day that I was supposed to get my new half-cube, I actually got some good news. I was being moved yet again, but this time, into a full cube. After some extensive cleaning with a bottle of “Desk & Office Cleaner” I started to familiarize myself with my new home. It’s pretty much what you’d expect. I work in a cubicle. I have a desk. There are walls around me. I have a phone. This shit isn’t rocket science, its corporate America. Yee-haw.
Well let’s fast forward a bit to my current situation. I still have the same number of projects as originally assigned to me. This is nice. I’m fully transitioned onto these projects, and pretty much everyone here seems to go out of their way to help me out on any questions I have. It’s weird…I actually like my job. I’m getting more and more busy everyday and that doesn’t bother me. The first time I saw a paycheck, all I could do was smile, then buy a shit ton of scratch off lottery tickets. I think my total gain in that was about $7.00.
Okay, I know this whole post today doesn’t really fit with the theme or feel of this blog, but I just kind of felt like making a “happy” post. I’m happy. I have a good job; I AM going to be buying a house once I can find one. Life is pretty good right now.
There is just one more thing to note as I finish up this blog post of sunshine and golden showers. (I know). This type of post will be a damn rarity in the future. I like speaking my mind on dumb shit so if anyone has any topics that they’d like to hear me rant on, just leave a comment and I promise I’ll try to write something on it. I’m not wearing any clothes right now.
I really didn’t mind the location. I was moderately close to a window, and for most of the day it was quiet. I got to enjoy this seclusion only for a couple of weeks. One day, when it was almost quitting time, I was informed that my cube was being given to some new hire that would be assisting someone who also worked in my part of Africa. (Note to my few readers, I really don’t work in Africa. Let’s be clear on that one. I know you’re all pretty gullible but I actually work in North Carolina…Surprise, surprise). This was also, when I was informed that I would be moving a lot closer to all of my coworkers. The sad thing here is that there still wasn’t a spot for me so I would be getting a makeshift cube. While having this conversation, I noticed my future desk being wheeled off to the back side of a cube. My new “cube” would actually only have two walls.
As long as I had a computer with e-mail and internet access it really wouldn’t bother me all that much. I did NOTHING at all during those first few weeks besides online training. Luckily I was in the process of having a few projects transfer to me. It’s weird to say I was happy to be getting some work. Anyways, on the day that I was supposed to get my new half-cube, I actually got some good news. I was being moved yet again, but this time, into a full cube. After some extensive cleaning with a bottle of “Desk & Office Cleaner” I started to familiarize myself with my new home. It’s pretty much what you’d expect. I work in a cubicle. I have a desk. There are walls around me. I have a phone. This shit isn’t rocket science, its corporate America. Yee-haw.
Well let’s fast forward a bit to my current situation. I still have the same number of projects as originally assigned to me. This is nice. I’m fully transitioned onto these projects, and pretty much everyone here seems to go out of their way to help me out on any questions I have. It’s weird…I actually like my job. I’m getting more and more busy everyday and that doesn’t bother me. The first time I saw a paycheck, all I could do was smile, then buy a shit ton of scratch off lottery tickets. I think my total gain in that was about $7.00.
Okay, I know this whole post today doesn’t really fit with the theme or feel of this blog, but I just kind of felt like making a “happy” post. I’m happy. I have a good job; I AM going to be buying a house once I can find one. Life is pretty good right now.
There is just one more thing to note as I finish up this blog post of sunshine and golden showers. (I know). This type of post will be a damn rarity in the future. I like speaking my mind on dumb shit so if anyone has any topics that they’d like to hear me rant on, just leave a comment and I promise I’ll try to write something on it. I’m not wearing any clothes right now.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
My first interview...
In today’s clusterfuck of words, I decided to start something new. Well, pretty much everything in this damn blog is new since I just started it, but this will be a (hopefully) weekly recurring, uhh, thing. Basically, what I have decided is to give random people the opportunity to ask me 10 questions. I really don’t care how clean, how dirty, how boring (hopefully not), or how absolutely retarded the questions get. You get 10 questions, no rules, no exceptions. I will, using my best judgment, answer them all. And yes, I will answer them as I see fit, so I'm sorry if you're not getting the answers you wanted, but thats how it is.
Episode I. Will Brackett asks me dumb shit:
1) What would your dream job be if you weren't doing what you do now?
--- Well, this really isn’t much of a surprise to anyone who knows me at all, but I would one day like to be involved in shooting and directing a film. I’ve always wanted to, but I have kind of realized that I need to make enough money to live off of and while I totally respect all those people who move out to LA with the dream of being discovered, I want to give myself some kind of foundation to live off of before I take that plunge.
2) What is your favorite sexual position?
--- Uhm, well since certain members of my family read this blog… My favorite sexual position is….discrete.
3) What kind of dog would you want if you wanted one?
--- For the longest time now I’ve wanted a dog that’s approximately 1/3 wolf. The rest can be husky or any other really but I just want to get a dog that’s part wolf. They look amazing and I would probably train it to kill people named Will.
4) What was going on in the last porn clip you watched?
--- Again with the questions. Well, if I had to guess, there was probably a guy and a girl participating in some sort of athletic activities. I can’t ever be too sure, since there’s pretty much always just one thing going on. I think I always seem to miss the plots. That’s what I get for showing up late.
5) What was your favorite toy when you were little?
--- Dude, I don’t really remember anything from before I was like 14. I’m dead serious; I have the long term memory of anyone I know. So, I’m going to have to guess again and say it was my Sega Genesis. I played the hell out of some Streets of Rage 2.
6) Jessica Alba or Jessica Biel?
--- This one is easy. Jessica Biel, hands down. That girl is pretty much perfection. Jessica Alba is up there too, but that blonde look kind of killed it for me. I love blondes, but it just didn’t fit her at all. Though I will say, she was damn fine in Idle Hands… All three minutes she seemed to be in of it.
7) Is JP gay?
--- To my knowledge I would say no. I happen to have made some slightly disturbing discoveries about Mr. JP that would definitively lead me to believe that he in fact, is not gay. I mean he was a cheerleader along with the rest of us (except you, you were just the wannabe groupie) and everyone knows that the straight guys act gayer than the gay ones. Not that it matters, because I have seen things that I never want to see again, and I have been a witness to events which would stand up in a court of law. That kid is straight, sorry to disappoint, everything else is just the cheerleading side of him coming out (not like that damnit).
8) Have you ever been in a relationship that you regretted being in?
--- No way. I have quite the interesting track record with women. They have been tall, short, crazy (like ‘BITCH IS CRAZY), deceiving, rich, poor, crazy (like ‘BITCH IS LITERALLY MENTALLY INSANE’), and much more. The sad or good thing here is that I don’t regret any of them. Each relationship that I have been in I have learned at least one thing about myself, and a couple of things about what kind of girl the ‘right’ one will be. So, throwing aside all the hell that most relationships are, I regret none of mine.
9) If you could trade places with anyone famous for a day, who would it be?
--- George W. Bush. Stick with me on this one. I would ‘trade places’ with good ol’ dubya. The reason of course is that I could do whatever the fuck I wanted, act like a complete dumb shit, blow up some random countries, fuck the economy up, and no one would even realize it was me.
10) What is something you wish you could say to one of your co-workers if you knew you couldn't be fired?
--- “Hi, I’m Nick.” I’d say more here but with that whole thing on companies stalking their employees MySpace and Facebook accounts, I’m playing it real safe. I mean, it’s not like I would be targeted for any of that since I’m not exactly high profile or anything, but yeah, I’m done.
Episode I. Will Brackett asks me dumb shit:
1) What would your dream job be if you weren't doing what you do now?
--- Well, this really isn’t much of a surprise to anyone who knows me at all, but I would one day like to be involved in shooting and directing a film. I’ve always wanted to, but I have kind of realized that I need to make enough money to live off of and while I totally respect all those people who move out to LA with the dream of being discovered, I want to give myself some kind of foundation to live off of before I take that plunge.
2) What is your favorite sexual position?
--- Uhm, well since certain members of my family read this blog… My favorite sexual position is….discrete.
3) What kind of dog would you want if you wanted one?
--- For the longest time now I’ve wanted a dog that’s approximately 1/3 wolf. The rest can be husky or any other really but I just want to get a dog that’s part wolf. They look amazing and I would probably train it to kill people named Will.
4) What was going on in the last porn clip you watched?
--- Again with the questions. Well, if I had to guess, there was probably a guy and a girl participating in some sort of athletic activities. I can’t ever be too sure, since there’s pretty much always just one thing going on. I think I always seem to miss the plots. That’s what I get for showing up late.
5) What was your favorite toy when you were little?
--- Dude, I don’t really remember anything from before I was like 14. I’m dead serious; I have the long term memory of anyone I know. So, I’m going to have to guess again and say it was my Sega Genesis. I played the hell out of some Streets of Rage 2.
6) Jessica Alba or Jessica Biel?
--- This one is easy. Jessica Biel, hands down. That girl is pretty much perfection. Jessica Alba is up there too, but that blonde look kind of killed it for me. I love blondes, but it just didn’t fit her at all. Though I will say, she was damn fine in Idle Hands… All three minutes she seemed to be in of it.
7) Is JP gay?
--- To my knowledge I would say no. I happen to have made some slightly disturbing discoveries about Mr. JP that would definitively lead me to believe that he in fact, is not gay. I mean he was a cheerleader along with the rest of us (except you, you were just the wannabe groupie) and everyone knows that the straight guys act gayer than the gay ones. Not that it matters, because I have seen things that I never want to see again, and I have been a witness to events which would stand up in a court of law. That kid is straight, sorry to disappoint, everything else is just the cheerleading side of him coming out (not like that damnit).
8) Have you ever been in a relationship that you regretted being in?
--- No way. I have quite the interesting track record with women. They have been tall, short, crazy (like ‘BITCH IS CRAZY), deceiving, rich, poor, crazy (like ‘BITCH IS LITERALLY MENTALLY INSANE’), and much more. The sad or good thing here is that I don’t regret any of them. Each relationship that I have been in I have learned at least one thing about myself, and a couple of things about what kind of girl the ‘right’ one will be. So, throwing aside all the hell that most relationships are, I regret none of mine.
9) If you could trade places with anyone famous for a day, who would it be?
--- George W. Bush. Stick with me on this one. I would ‘trade places’ with good ol’ dubya. The reason of course is that I could do whatever the fuck I wanted, act like a complete dumb shit, blow up some random countries, fuck the economy up, and no one would even realize it was me.
10) What is something you wish you could say to one of your co-workers if you knew you couldn't be fired?
--- “Hi, I’m Nick.” I’d say more here but with that whole thing on companies stalking their employees MySpace and Facebook accounts, I’m playing it real safe. I mean, it’s not like I would be targeted for any of that since I’m not exactly high profile or anything, but yeah, I’m done.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Regarding some moviegoing experiences...
Will was so thrilled to be included in my um, incredibly popular post yesterday that he damn near demanded a follow-up post. Picking a topic to write on is always annoying, since unless I’m outright inspired by some act of stupidity I usually ask for recommendations. The first half of this post is dedicated to the failure that is Will’s taste in movies.
If you haven’t guessed by the tone of that introduction, Will has quite the spread of appreciation in our modern day cinema. I’ll give him some credit; he does like an occasional good movie here and there. The downside to all of this is that this appreciation is completely overshadowed by his interest in other movies, and more appropriately, his track record in convincing his friends to see new releases. The beginning of the end was when he convinced a half dozen of us to go see what he claimed would be an “awesome” movie.
The whole night started off with the group meeting outside of the movie theatre. I’m not going to lie; I was mildly interested in seeing this film because the trailer did a decent job of making it look halfway interesting. The thing you have to appreciate here is that whenever a trailer makes a movie of this caliber look good, you KNOW it’s going to suck. On the other hand, Will continuously thwarted the general consensus by claiming it would be awesome. Whatever, we were all already there. So we all go in the theatre to see The Covenant.
On the chance that you haven’t seen this movie, I’m just going to be very plain and say it sucks. Like, it REALLY sucks. I’m going to equate this film to having an epileptic seizure in the middle of a minefield. It’s just something that doesn’t end well. The only thing memorable from the movie was the very end when Will turned to all of us and all he could manage to say was, “Wow, sorry guys.”
Now, a few months went by and we pretty much avoided seeing any movie with Will that was based off of his recommendation. We THOUGHT we had learned our lesson, but when it came down to it, we gave him another chance. Only a few weeks ago, a much smaller group of us (the others apparently hadn’t forgotten the prior shit recommendation) went to go see another movie.
We all had pretty much agreed that The Covenant was a terrible movie. Semi-Pro made that thing look like the best fucking film ever made. I used to be a fan of Will Ferrell, but his past few movies had instilled zero interest into me seeing Semi-Pro. Of course, Mr. LETS GO SEE THE COVENANT convinced us to check out this steaming pile of crap. There was literally one funny moment in the 60-minutes-too-long-Semi-Pro. The one thing I hate more than anything else when I’m watching a movie is noticing myself checking my watch for the time. I think I had a staring contest in the dark with the face of my watch. Hell, I think I got more entertainment watching the hands move in a circle than I did from the movie.
So it comes down to this. Will, since I know you’ll be reading this, you have one last shot. Three fucking strikes and you’re out. Be very fucking careful the next time you recommend a movie for all of us to go see. If it sucks, we’re going to probably drop you off a bridge onto the beltline. Be forewarned.
If you haven’t guessed by the tone of that introduction, Will has quite the spread of appreciation in our modern day cinema. I’ll give him some credit; he does like an occasional good movie here and there. The downside to all of this is that this appreciation is completely overshadowed by his interest in other movies, and more appropriately, his track record in convincing his friends to see new releases. The beginning of the end was when he convinced a half dozen of us to go see what he claimed would be an “awesome” movie.
The whole night started off with the group meeting outside of the movie theatre. I’m not going to lie; I was mildly interested in seeing this film because the trailer did a decent job of making it look halfway interesting. The thing you have to appreciate here is that whenever a trailer makes a movie of this caliber look good, you KNOW it’s going to suck. On the other hand, Will continuously thwarted the general consensus by claiming it would be awesome. Whatever, we were all already there. So we all go in the theatre to see The Covenant.
On the chance that you haven’t seen this movie, I’m just going to be very plain and say it sucks. Like, it REALLY sucks. I’m going to equate this film to having an epileptic seizure in the middle of a minefield. It’s just something that doesn’t end well. The only thing memorable from the movie was the very end when Will turned to all of us and all he could manage to say was, “Wow, sorry guys.”
Now, a few months went by and we pretty much avoided seeing any movie with Will that was based off of his recommendation. We THOUGHT we had learned our lesson, but when it came down to it, we gave him another chance. Only a few weeks ago, a much smaller group of us (the others apparently hadn’t forgotten the prior shit recommendation) went to go see another movie.
We all had pretty much agreed that The Covenant was a terrible movie. Semi-Pro made that thing look like the best fucking film ever made. I used to be a fan of Will Ferrell, but his past few movies had instilled zero interest into me seeing Semi-Pro. Of course, Mr. LETS GO SEE THE COVENANT convinced us to check out this steaming pile of crap. There was literally one funny moment in the 60-minutes-too-long-Semi-Pro. The one thing I hate more than anything else when I’m watching a movie is noticing myself checking my watch for the time. I think I had a staring contest in the dark with the face of my watch. Hell, I think I got more entertainment watching the hands move in a circle than I did from the movie.
So it comes down to this. Will, since I know you’ll be reading this, you have one last shot. Three fucking strikes and you’re out. Be very fucking careful the next time you recommend a movie for all of us to go see. If it sucks, we’re going to probably drop you off a bridge onto the beltline. Be forewarned.
Monday, March 24, 2008
I'm really not that funny.
After reading my most recent post, my good friend Will made a suggestion to me. Will thought that I was entertaining enough (though I’m not really sure what ‘enough’ means in this context) and that I should create a YouTube channel to host some sort of videoblog. What I have come to realize, is though I do consider myself moderately funny (I can also call this ‘I couldn’t get paid for being funny’ funny) I’m not sure how well I could pull off the whole video thing. I’ve noticed most of my humor either comes from an initial reaction I get to things, or in typing out some random thoughts. The spur of the moment thing works great, but I can’t seem to see that working out in a semi-monologue.
I don’t think I’d make much of a videoblogger, though the idea is intriguing. The only idea I could think up for an initial videoblog would be that I would go and buy $20 worth of lottery tickets. If that isn’t a great indicator of my comedic genius I’m not sure what is. Anyways, what I would do is hopefully make a recording of myself scratching out the tickets for the amusement of the general public. Yes, this is a very stupid idea. The only redeeming factor in it all would be only if I won. The real question is do I want to waste $20 for the sake of entertainment that most likely only 5 people in the world will see?
The more and more I thought about it, the more I realized that it actually would be a tiny bit fun for me. So here is pretty much the outline, the plan if you will, of how my videoblog will come into existence.
Step 1: Find my video camera. Fuck webcams.
Step 2: Figure out how to not look like shit on camera.
Step 3: Make sure the setup is recording audio, because, well, I don’t think my face could hold your attention for more than 7 seconds.
Step 4: Here is the important one. Turn the video camera on, facing myself, with either a tape in it or directly connected to my computer to capture. Then, I would need to start talking to it regarding something worth listening to. I don’t want to waste your time about as much as I don’t want to waste mine (except for the fact that I’m currently writing this to pass the time).
Step 5: Upload the video.
Step 6: Wait
Step 7: Pray that I actually get someone to watch the video.
Step 8: Laugh at the comments of e-dorks making fun of me. I know it’ll happen because I’m one of them.
Step 9: Cry because the e-dorks made fun of me.
And THAT, I believe, is how I will make a successful videoblog. And when I say successful, I actually mean that I’m entertaining myself by posting it. I don’t give a damn about impressing anyone else. Oh, and then those e-dorks will somehow pass my video along and I’ll become e-famous. Then I can have an e-entourage. All the e-girls will come out to talk to me and I’ll help all my friends get e-laid.
I don’t think I’d make much of a videoblogger, though the idea is intriguing. The only idea I could think up for an initial videoblog would be that I would go and buy $20 worth of lottery tickets. If that isn’t a great indicator of my comedic genius I’m not sure what is. Anyways, what I would do is hopefully make a recording of myself scratching out the tickets for the amusement of the general public. Yes, this is a very stupid idea. The only redeeming factor in it all would be only if I won. The real question is do I want to waste $20 for the sake of entertainment that most likely only 5 people in the world will see?
The more and more I thought about it, the more I realized that it actually would be a tiny bit fun for me. So here is pretty much the outline, the plan if you will, of how my videoblog will come into existence.
Step 1: Find my video camera. Fuck webcams.
Step 2: Figure out how to not look like shit on camera.
Step 3: Make sure the setup is recording audio, because, well, I don’t think my face could hold your attention for more than 7 seconds.
Step 4: Here is the important one. Turn the video camera on, facing myself, with either a tape in it or directly connected to my computer to capture. Then, I would need to start talking to it regarding something worth listening to. I don’t want to waste your time about as much as I don’t want to waste mine (except for the fact that I’m currently writing this to pass the time).
Step 5: Upload the video.
Step 6: Wait
Step 7: Pray that I actually get someone to watch the video.
Step 8: Laugh at the comments of e-dorks making fun of me. I know it’ll happen because I’m one of them.
Step 9: Cry because the e-dorks made fun of me.
And THAT, I believe, is how I will make a successful videoblog. And when I say successful, I actually mean that I’m entertaining myself by posting it. I don’t give a damn about impressing anyone else. Oh, and then those e-dorks will somehow pass my video along and I’ll become e-famous. Then I can have an e-entourage. All the e-girls will come out to talk to me and I’ll help all my friends get e-laid.
Friday, March 21, 2008
Good sleep is hard to come by...
So in following with my most recent post, I have discovered yet another thing I might possibly spend a good chunk of my paycheck on. Last night, I just couldn’t sleep. The past week or so my lower back has been painfully sore and I’ve needed to pop it at every possible chance. So I was in bed last night and I just couldn’t take it anymore. It seemed like the center of my bed had fallen into a sinkhole of some kind. It seemed to be bowing down just in the center ever so slightly so I did what any rational person would do. I threw my mattress off the bed and across the room. A few things most likely broke during its cushiony flight before it came to rest against my computer desk. With the heaviest thing out of the way, I flipped up the box spring to discover something quite interesting. Many of the planks of wood that form up the box spring had either been on the verge or breaking or just straight snapped. It was a war zone, fragments of wood were everywhere. If a person fell into the box spring they wouldn't make it out with fewer than 27 splinters. I’m not quite sure how this level of destruction had taken place. What really kind of boggled my mind was how it still maintained it basic boxy frame with so much of its foundation broken.
By this point in the night, I was dead tired, and I didn’t want to deal with it. I decided to handle my situation later so I just picked up the box spring and threw it against a different wall. It was then when I noticed that it was not only the box spring that was broken, but also the metal frame it sat upon. Metal was twisted upon metal with the little connector pieces had apparently snapped off and disappeared from all existence. Again, I was baffled as to how this structure had supported both box spring and mattress. I think I’ve come to the conclusion that the laws of physics do not apply in my bedroom. Anyways, with all of the broken pieces of my nest thrown aside, I dragged (I was tired, damn you all) the mattress back to where its missing comrades had once been stationed.
With the mattress securely stored on the floor of my bedroom, I grabbed my sheets and pillows, and basically fell over on top of them. It didn’t take me long to notice just how much my bed had been caving into the wormhole that was created from a broken box spring and frame. Now, I like sleep as much as anyone else and it’s truly amazing to think of what level of comfort (or well, lack of comfort) I tolerated to get in those daily required hours of shut eye. I woke up this morning actually feeling refreshed. It was weird; I didn’t WANT to get up out of bed. My back, it didn’t hurt. Well, okay, it still hurt, but I didn’t crawl out of bed like an 80-year old man in need of hip and knee replacement.
This whole debacle with the bed prompted what is yet another internal debate with yours truly. Do I buy a new box spring and frame for my bed, or should I continue life three feet shorter? And more importantly, how the hell much would it cost me for a GOOD replacement of those two items? I mean, are they really all that necessary? I guess the one thing that’s left for me to wonder about after alls said and done is: How the hell did I break my box spring that bad?
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