CBS Update - Now With Pics!
Fun weekend of sorts - spent most of Friday and Saturday deliverin' the chilluns to Walnut Hill from Logan, and Beck and the AJ watched King Kong and Click in my absence. Work also unfortunately forced me to miss Greg's 40th birthday party on Saturday, bummer. Aaron and I did get in an excellent dinner at Agostino's in Natick on Saturday, and we successfully whiled Sunday away, watching England beat Ecuador on a nasty goal by David Beckham (that, incidentally, a well-positioned goaltender would have stopped), playing some guitar, and then some Yahtzee and poker and maybe a couple of episodes of Buffy sprinkled in there. It's rainy again in New England, making for nasty humidity and nothing days, plus my heel is still killing and... well, we're really just lazy. So it goes.
One more day with the A-dogg and then it's back to a productive life - just kidding. He leaves tomorrow at 7 AM which translates to leaving Grafton ~5 or so; we may need to try to get some sleep tonight. But today we will come up with something fun to do, I swear, and hopefully something that does not involve sitting around the humid house all day.
Beck started ambulatory today so I gave her a ride to school this AM so she could get head out to the farms. Work will be intermittent this week, so the big goal is to get something done. HA!!! No really, I have been loading up the computer with the software for my MBox, so hopefully some creativity will start flowing. We shall see...
Enjoy your late June festivities, peeps.
Monday, June 26, 2006
Friday, June 23, 2006
Lazy Summers Day
Site or Gossip?
Wrigley's Halloween Costume
I'm sorry, I have to post the pic of Wrigley here, too; it's just too awesome:
Hilarious! And a vague reference to 19th century theatre taboot! Anyways, not a ton to report; Aaron slept in until 1:30 for something new and different so we got nada accomplished. Actually, Beck and I went grocery shopping and went to the gym and she took the dogs woodsing before he had risen, so I suppose things were accomplished despite his better efforts. We whiled the afternoon away watching Buffy and some Freaks and Geeks, then Beck prepared a ridiculously good home-made pizza spread. Alli Wolf came over with salad in toes, so we had a good time chilling on the porch and munching on pizza goodness. We then made the calorific decision to hit Swoops and Squirrels afterwards, then hung out at Alli's for a bit. Good times.
That's really it; a solid sum-up of the day. This is all really just an excuse to get Wrigley's pic up here. She apparently took a nose dive in a mudpile, a move that required TWO baths when she got home. WACKO! Alright, summer job starts tonight. Fun times in the offing. Will check you later, skaters.
Wrigley's Halloween Costume
I'm sorry, I have to post the pic of Wrigley here, too; it's just too awesome:
Hilarious! And a vague reference to 19th century theatre taboot! Anyways, not a ton to report; Aaron slept in until 1:30 for something new and different so we got nada accomplished. Actually, Beck and I went grocery shopping and went to the gym and she took the dogs woodsing before he had risen, so I suppose things were accomplished despite his better efforts. We whiled the afternoon away watching Buffy and some Freaks and Geeks, then Beck prepared a ridiculously good home-made pizza spread. Alli Wolf came over with salad in toes, so we had a good time chilling on the porch and munching on pizza goodness. We then made the calorific decision to hit Swoops and Squirrels afterwards, then hung out at Alli's for a bit. Good times.
That's really it; a solid sum-up of the day. This is all really just an excuse to get Wrigley's pic up here. She apparently took a nose dive in a mudpile, a move that required TWO baths when she got home. WACKO! Alright, summer job starts tonight. Fun times in the offing. Will check you later, skaters.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Summer Solstice is Behindice
Site or Gossip? Nyet
Another year, another champion - Aaron & I watched the Miami Heat win the NBA championship on Tuesday night after many an argument over whether there is actually any point to comparing Dwyane Wade to MJ and some arguments over my brother's dubious claim that Wade is "always on." Wade was pretty dope this entire series in a "head down, drive to the basket and have the refs call pansy touch fouls with 1.9 seconds left in Game 5" kinda way. But can we all agree that global warming has nothing to do with George Bush, but is rather caused by all the hot air escaping the lips of sportswriters these days? Seriously, MJ retired dudes. Wade is not the next MJ; he's the only Wade. And even if you ant to play the comparison game, let's a least wait until, say, his 3rd championship. A'ight? MJ was a phenomenon - actually a circus show if you remember it (even when the Bulls weren't winning rings people dropped everything to see the guy play) - and whatever Wade is, it's ludicrous to compare it to a full career, 6 championships in a different era.
As for him always being on... guys who are "always on" don't clank two free throws in the clutch - HA HA. I don't really believe that, but scroll to the bottom of this page of the play by play and take a peek at who missed two in a one point game in the 4th quarter of game 6 of the NBA Finals. Oooh. He's so "clutch." I don't buy it for a second - dude is incredible, but he's just not, no one is, a storybook demi-god. So get out the broom and dustpan already; your shattered dreams and false nostalgia for the eighties have their place.
Woke up Tuesday morning with a wicked bruise on my left heel from the Lack-of-an-ultimate game on Monday night, which more or less did me in for the day. Aaron and I played some music, learned some songs (Sweet Emotion, With Arms Outstretched, House of the Rising Sun, random blues / piano stuff) and all in all had a fun day despite the raging heat. Beck ran errands and generally scoffed at our lack of activity - at one point we managed to lumber outside to grab some ice cream at Scoops and Swirls, but that was really our only earth-shattering outstep for the day. The dreary heat and humidity made for some nice PM thunderstorms and breezy evening, so Beck decided to grill on the porch - great burgers and sausage, and this awesome sunset:
On to Wednesday, when Beck made the excellent call to go to Manchester by the Sea for a day at the Beach. Much fun! We stopped en route at the Vet School so Beck could deliver some faxes, and Aaron and I tossed the disc, grabbing odd looks from the admins inside. Took about an hour and a half to get to MbtS, and we spent the day doing typical beachy things - frisbee tossing, reading, falling asleep, getting mildly sunburned, etc. Aaron and I spent a good deal of time trying to connect on a huck from me to Aaron for a layout into the waves - when we eventually got it, 'twas spectacular, as Aaron laid out directly into a curling wave for one of the loudest belly flops you're likely to hear. Spectacular. Hung out for a bit and took some pictures - unfortunately, the flash on the camera kept going off, and against the stark blue sky it makes these look like an exercise in really bad photoshopping. I promise, I swear, we were actually there. Anyhoo, the rest of the trip was non-eventful (except we stopped at the slowest Seafood restaurant in the universe so we didn't have to battle traffic - successful in the traffic-free ride home dept., boldly unsuccessful in the "had a good meal" dept. Anyways, fun times, and I'll leave you with this stunning graphic evidence (and please note, those hot sunglasses worn my Mr. Aaron Johnson were provided by the generosity of IPJ himself):
Another year, another champion - Aaron & I watched the Miami Heat win the NBA championship on Tuesday night after many an argument over whether there is actually any point to comparing Dwyane Wade to MJ and some arguments over my brother's dubious claim that Wade is "always on." Wade was pretty dope this entire series in a "head down, drive to the basket and have the refs call pansy touch fouls with 1.9 seconds left in Game 5" kinda way. But can we all agree that global warming has nothing to do with George Bush, but is rather caused by all the hot air escaping the lips of sportswriters these days? Seriously, MJ retired dudes. Wade is not the next MJ; he's the only Wade. And even if you ant to play the comparison game, let's a least wait until, say, his 3rd championship. A'ight? MJ was a phenomenon - actually a circus show if you remember it (even when the Bulls weren't winning rings people dropped everything to see the guy play) - and whatever Wade is, it's ludicrous to compare it to a full career, 6 championships in a different era.
As for him always being on... guys who are "always on" don't clank two free throws in the clutch - HA HA. I don't really believe that, but scroll to the bottom of this page of the play by play and take a peek at who missed two in a one point game in the 4th quarter of game 6 of the NBA Finals. Oooh. He's so "clutch." I don't buy it for a second - dude is incredible, but he's just not, no one is, a storybook demi-god. So get out the broom and dustpan already; your shattered dreams and false nostalgia for the eighties have their place.
Woke up Tuesday morning with a wicked bruise on my left heel from the Lack-of-an-ultimate game on Monday night, which more or less did me in for the day. Aaron and I played some music, learned some songs (Sweet Emotion, With Arms Outstretched, House of the Rising Sun, random blues / piano stuff) and all in all had a fun day despite the raging heat. Beck ran errands and generally scoffed at our lack of activity - at one point we managed to lumber outside to grab some ice cream at Scoops and Swirls, but that was really our only earth-shattering outstep for the day. The dreary heat and humidity made for some nice PM thunderstorms and breezy evening, so Beck decided to grill on the porch - great burgers and sausage, and this awesome sunset:
On to Wednesday, when Beck made the excellent call to go to Manchester by the Sea for a day at the Beach. Much fun! We stopped en route at the Vet School so Beck could deliver some faxes, and Aaron and I tossed the disc, grabbing odd looks from the admins inside. Took about an hour and a half to get to MbtS, and we spent the day doing typical beachy things - frisbee tossing, reading, falling asleep, getting mildly sunburned, etc. Aaron and I spent a good deal of time trying to connect on a huck from me to Aaron for a layout into the waves - when we eventually got it, 'twas spectacular, as Aaron laid out directly into a curling wave for one of the loudest belly flops you're likely to hear. Spectacular. Hung out for a bit and took some pictures - unfortunately, the flash on the camera kept going off, and against the stark blue sky it makes these look like an exercise in really bad photoshopping. I promise, I swear, we were actually there. Anyhoo, the rest of the trip was non-eventful (except we stopped at the slowest Seafood restaurant in the universe so we didn't have to battle traffic - successful in the traffic-free ride home dept., boldly unsuccessful in the "had a good meal" dept. Anyways, fun times, and I'll leave you with this stunning graphic evidence (and please note, those hot sunglasses worn my Mr. Aaron Johnson were provided by the generosity of IPJ himself):
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
It's Hot; Ridiculous Ultimate; Spastic Siblings; Hurricane Stanleys; Tickle-Me-Ridiculous-Plot
Site or Gossip?
CBS Update
The AJ has hit South Grafton, yo, and it will never be the same. He joins us in our time of insane heatwave, unfortunately, so we're all cooking a little bit in the apartment. Bah - 97 degrees or so the last couple of days. Nothing a little fan or one-room AC unit or, failing those, and if you're a dog, a bowlful of ice cubes can't cure. He should be fine with the heat anyways, as should everyone, lest I launch into a Texas-two-a-days diatribe. Crap, Johnson, you couldn't run out of sight in a week.
Let's see - some rather unwise persons, let's call them Dom and Mad, had Aaron Z-rayed only to learn that he has some mild congenital hip dysplasia. I am sure it is uncomfortable - but it seems to have been an act of enablement, giving him "hard scientific medical evidence" that he can wiggle around and spastically move like a orangutan suffering from heroin withdrawal. I mean, the neck cricks, shoulder and back-popping were ludicrous enough, but now it's full body insanity - he can't just sit and watch TV, he does Roxette leg kicks and spasms and good lord is it distracting. Like I said, I am sorry he has an uncomfortable hip, but his method of dealing with it makes him look like he has some spastic axial Tourette's or something. He theoretically has stretches and exercises to do, but I 1, can't suggest that he do them, for that would be an intrusion on his very soul, so 2, I will keep a rough count of how many times I see him do them over the next few days. Shockingly, at the start of the 36th hour, the odometer is still stuck on zero. As long as I'm bitching, on the ride home last night he began trying to recount which of my stories he had read, and he managed to recall all of 2 pages. So he says he's going to "read them while he's here" so we can talk about them. If you need a job done four months after the fact, Aaron is your man.
Picked Aaron up at the aeropuerto Sunday evening, and it took us nine years to get back from Providence - the New England "unmarked road" phenomena were in full effect. We watched Game 5 of the NBA Finals on Sunday night; very disheartening for the Dallas fans out there. The foul called on Nowitzki with 1.6 seconds left (on DWade) was, um, interesting - the general consensus is that the last few seconds of the game, particularly in THE FINALS, are "let them play" seconds. So calling a phantom foul on Dirk to give Miami the win is kind absurd. I like free throws as much as the next guy, but 25 of them? I suppose Wade has more star-power than Dier Dirk. Hmph. Anyhoo, Beck made burritos, very delicious, and we had a good night at home.
Aaron slept until 11 Monday; got up for a little while to jam on guitar a bit and then went back to sleep. We watched the first hour and a half of St. Elmo's Fire, and jeebus, I'm going to have to review that film. I couldn't sit still to watch it - is Aaron's hip infectious? - just way too much awkwardness, preposterous story lines and characters (Emilio?), etc. So bad it's bad kinda thing. We only watched the first 1.5 hours of it because we had to leave at 4 to go to my Ultimate game...
Just another dumb experience under the belt. Nothing to do with the actual Ultimate, and actually more to do with the lack of actual Ultimate. We were supposed to play BBN in Lexington, which is not a stone's throw from Grafton. I needed to stop by the Natick Library; Aaron needed some shoes. So we left the house at 4:15, got to Natick, did our things, and left there about 5:20. We got to Lexington a little after 6 thanks to some more unlabeled Boston streets. SO we get there, and BBN is there, but so is some other bunch of quacks. So the BBN captain had double-booked us, and the brilliant solution was for them to play to 11 and then we would play BBN afterwards. We half-heartedly scrimmaged in the meantime, and then got to play for a whopping 25 minutes or so when it got dark and mosquito-y. Bah. Big fat waste of time - on the plus side, my knee and shoulders felt a lot better, but I mashed my heel at some point during the game and am limping around today. So I think I am officially boycotting the MIT game tonight. STUPID!
Aaron and I stopped by Chili's in Framingham on the way back to get dinner and watch Carolina win the Stanley Cup in a fun hockey game. The local regulars were out in full force last night, so I suppose we got to see the makings of a really lame, corporate white-washed and American standardized real life version of St. Elmo's Fire. The characters in the bar were vastly less attractive, though mounds more believable and infinitely less annoying. Fun to see Carolina hoist the Cup, and glad they didn't let Edmonton run the table on them. We came back here and I showered and pretty much immediately went to bed. I just came to the computer this morning - Aaaron & Beck are asleep - to find THIS on my desktop, so maybe Aaron will come through this time.
Whatever. Fun having AJ in the hizza. We'll try to do some recording today, methinks.
CBS Update
The AJ has hit South Grafton, yo, and it will never be the same. He joins us in our time of insane heatwave, unfortunately, so we're all cooking a little bit in the apartment. Bah - 97 degrees or so the last couple of days. Nothing a little fan or one-room AC unit or, failing those, and if you're a dog, a bowlful of ice cubes can't cure. He should be fine with the heat anyways, as should everyone, lest I launch into a Texas-two-a-days diatribe. Crap, Johnson, you couldn't run out of sight in a week.
Let's see - some rather unwise persons, let's call them Dom and Mad, had Aaron Z-rayed only to learn that he has some mild congenital hip dysplasia. I am sure it is uncomfortable - but it seems to have been an act of enablement, giving him "hard scientific medical evidence" that he can wiggle around and spastically move like a orangutan suffering from heroin withdrawal. I mean, the neck cricks, shoulder and back-popping were ludicrous enough, but now it's full body insanity - he can't just sit and watch TV, he does Roxette leg kicks and spasms and good lord is it distracting. Like I said, I am sorry he has an uncomfortable hip, but his method of dealing with it makes him look like he has some spastic axial Tourette's or something. He theoretically has stretches and exercises to do, but I 1, can't suggest that he do them, for that would be an intrusion on his very soul, so 2, I will keep a rough count of how many times I see him do them over the next few days. Shockingly, at the start of the 36th hour, the odometer is still stuck on zero. As long as I'm bitching, on the ride home last night he began trying to recount which of my stories he had read, and he managed to recall all of 2 pages. So he says he's going to "read them while he's here" so we can talk about them. If you need a job done four months after the fact, Aaron is your man.
Picked Aaron up at the aeropuerto Sunday evening, and it took us nine years to get back from Providence - the New England "unmarked road" phenomena were in full effect. We watched Game 5 of the NBA Finals on Sunday night; very disheartening for the Dallas fans out there. The foul called on Nowitzki with 1.6 seconds left (on DWade) was, um, interesting - the general consensus is that the last few seconds of the game, particularly in THE FINALS, are "let them play" seconds. So calling a phantom foul on Dirk to give Miami the win is kind absurd. I like free throws as much as the next guy, but 25 of them? I suppose Wade has more star-power than Dier Dirk. Hmph. Anyhoo, Beck made burritos, very delicious, and we had a good night at home.
Aaron slept until 11 Monday; got up for a little while to jam on guitar a bit and then went back to sleep. We watched the first hour and a half of St. Elmo's Fire, and jeebus, I'm going to have to review that film. I couldn't sit still to watch it - is Aaron's hip infectious? - just way too much awkwardness, preposterous story lines and characters (Emilio?), etc. So bad it's bad kinda thing. We only watched the first 1.5 hours of it because we had to leave at 4 to go to my Ultimate game...
Just another dumb experience under the belt. Nothing to do with the actual Ultimate, and actually more to do with the lack of actual Ultimate. We were supposed to play BBN in Lexington, which is not a stone's throw from Grafton. I needed to stop by the Natick Library; Aaron needed some shoes. So we left the house at 4:15, got to Natick, did our things, and left there about 5:20. We got to Lexington a little after 6 thanks to some more unlabeled Boston streets. SO we get there, and BBN is there, but so is some other bunch of quacks. So the BBN captain had double-booked us, and the brilliant solution was for them to play to 11 and then we would play BBN afterwards. We half-heartedly scrimmaged in the meantime, and then got to play for a whopping 25 minutes or so when it got dark and mosquito-y. Bah. Big fat waste of time - on the plus side, my knee and shoulders felt a lot better, but I mashed my heel at some point during the game and am limping around today. So I think I am officially boycotting the MIT game tonight. STUPID!
Aaron and I stopped by Chili's in Framingham on the way back to get dinner and watch Carolina win the Stanley Cup in a fun hockey game. The local regulars were out in full force last night, so I suppose we got to see the makings of a really lame, corporate white-washed and American standardized real life version of St. Elmo's Fire. The characters in the bar were vastly less attractive, though mounds more believable and infinitely less annoying. Fun to see Carolina hoist the Cup, and glad they didn't let Edmonton run the table on them. We came back here and I showered and pretty much immediately went to bed. I just came to the computer this morning - Aaaron & Beck are asleep - to find THIS on my desktop, so maybe Aaron will come through this time.
Whatever. Fun having AJ in the hizza. We'll try to do some recording today, methinks.
Sunday, June 18, 2006
Oh, Dad's not gonna dig that final score...
Who loves game sevens?
Preston the Llama loves game sevens.
Carolina got *mauled* by Edmonton tonight and now heads home to face the most exciting thing in all of everything, an NHL game 7. It probably has not come out in any way to this point that I love hockey, clearly a dank betrayal of my confederate roots. The lockout pretty much killed my enthusiasm of late (the Finals have resurrected it to a great degree), but there was a time when I would watch any hockey game of any variety any time. I randomly took on the Sharks as a team of choice - and you may think I'm using "random" in that quasi-cool, late 90's early aughts way, as in "OMG, you hooked up with the most rando skank last night!" but I'm not - really, my roommate Ryan and I picked random teams to play against one another in NHL 98; he got Carolina, I got San Jose - and ever since that fateful night in '98, I've been a southernly displaced ice addict. Like I mentioned a couple fo days ago - there's some deadly romanticism in the struggle for every advantage when goals are scarce, something that soccer embraces and hockey just a little bit less so. But hockey also has body checks and fights, so they apply to my non pony-tailed side, too.
Only problem, getting back on track, is that we have an Ultimate game Monday night during the game 7. Boo-urns! I guess I'll record, or maybe stop by a sports bar on the way home all stanktified. Too bad.
Ah, Ultimate. I haven't played in a couple of weeks - been banged up a little, generally unenthusiastic about the game and the Roid, and seriously unenthusiastic about the prospect of driving over an hour only to have a game rained out. Hopefully the time off has healed my weary legs a little bit. We'll see.
Not much else - we went to the Worcester Art Museum with Val, one of Beck's classmates this morning. The museum was very cool; we didn't see a ton, but saw some surrealism that... well, hey, I'll just:
Violin d'Ingres by Man Ray (1924)
Which is just a fantastic image. Saw lots of others that I don't particularly feel like scouring the web for right this second... in fact, it's too late for art talk. Suffice it - good time, good inspiration from the museum. I listened to Miles Davis's A Tribute to Jack johnson to drown out the ill-dreamt commentary from the other patrons, and it made for an excellent soundscape.
Got some Chinese food with Val in a dingy Worcester Chinese restuarant. The food was excellent; the ambience was full of solicitors, sleazy dudes and general dirtiness. Val is a crazy driver, not surprisingly. That's all I got. Oh, she also likes to suck a large quantity of face with her boyfriend in public.
Tiredness creeps in. Time to bed... AJ tomorrow! Wahoo!
Preston the Llama loves game sevens.
Carolina got *mauled* by Edmonton tonight and now heads home to face the most exciting thing in all of everything, an NHL game 7. It probably has not come out in any way to this point that I love hockey, clearly a dank betrayal of my confederate roots. The lockout pretty much killed my enthusiasm of late (the Finals have resurrected it to a great degree), but there was a time when I would watch any hockey game of any variety any time. I randomly took on the Sharks as a team of choice - and you may think I'm using "random" in that quasi-cool, late 90's early aughts way, as in "OMG, you hooked up with the most rando skank last night!" but I'm not - really, my roommate Ryan and I picked random teams to play against one another in NHL 98; he got Carolina, I got San Jose - and ever since that fateful night in '98, I've been a southernly displaced ice addict. Like I mentioned a couple fo days ago - there's some deadly romanticism in the struggle for every advantage when goals are scarce, something that soccer embraces and hockey just a little bit less so. But hockey also has body checks and fights, so they apply to my non pony-tailed side, too.
Only problem, getting back on track, is that we have an Ultimate game Monday night during the game 7. Boo-urns! I guess I'll record, or maybe stop by a sports bar on the way home all stanktified. Too bad.
Ah, Ultimate. I haven't played in a couple of weeks - been banged up a little, generally unenthusiastic about the game and the Roid, and seriously unenthusiastic about the prospect of driving over an hour only to have a game rained out. Hopefully the time off has healed my weary legs a little bit. We'll see.
Not much else - we went to the Worcester Art Museum with Val, one of Beck's classmates this morning. The museum was very cool; we didn't see a ton, but saw some surrealism that... well, hey, I'll just:
Violin d'Ingres by Man Ray (1924)
Which is just a fantastic image. Saw lots of others that I don't particularly feel like scouring the web for right this second... in fact, it's too late for art talk. Suffice it - good time, good inspiration from the museum. I listened to Miles Davis's A Tribute to Jack johnson to drown out the ill-dreamt commentary from the other patrons, and it made for an excellent soundscape.
Got some Chinese food with Val in a dingy Worcester Chinese restuarant. The food was excellent; the ambience was full of solicitors, sleazy dudes and general dirtiness. Val is a crazy driver, not surprisingly. That's all I got. Oh, she also likes to suck a large quantity of face with her boyfriend in public.
Tiredness creeps in. Time to bed... AJ tomorrow! Wahoo!
Saturday, June 17, 2006
What was that CSNY song again???
Site or Gossip?
Gossip: The A-Child - that's right, my brother, AJ Wright - lands tomorrow evening. We are going to tear South Grafton up, yo! Seriously, I am excited, and hopefully we will collaborate on some music / writing projects. Should be awesome. I'll keep you updated.
Back2Blog: Slow week involving a whole lot of reading, guitar-playing and general computer maintenance. Also, what with the one car (and the fact that I ain't workin'), a lot of trips to Rebecca Maggiedeleine's Farm. Er, Vet School. She's been on her radiology rotation, and has likewise had little to nothing going on. I apologize for the severe dearth of content, but I figured I would just wait for the dog to strike me rather than report a whole lot of "today I made coffee" type entries. Wait - did I just say wait for the dog to strike me?
Yeah, it looked something vaguely like that. I had just gotten a haircut at our local Supercuts from a new girl, let's call her "Jenny." An although-unbeknownst-to-me fateful moment occurred between us when Jenny asked, " how do you want the sides?" normally I reply with an ambiguous "somewhere between a 1 and a 2," which almost unfailingly garners me a 1 and a half. Today, thought, I wasn't really thinking, and so I just said, "short, I just don't want my hair hanging over my ears." She said, "Okay, how about a two," and apparently my desire for shortness did not come across.
So Jenny's cut was suboptimal, really left the sides too long and the hairs were sticking out uneven lengths. Not Krusty-sticking out, but sticking out nonetheless. So I went into the bathroom when I got home, pulled out my electric razor/clippers and... did nothing. The battery was dead, so I had to plug it in. Another fatal mistake. Well, not fatal, but... the toothbrush charger and the iStation were plugged into the bathroom socket, so I unplugged the iStation and opened the door to set its adaptor on the counter. I failed to close the door this time, which I suppose was the actual mistake in this entire mess. SO I plugged in the razor, went to lightly trim the edge of my sideburns when... um, see above.
SPARKLE!!!! She came flying in the bathroom - I had not adequately petted her hello on my way into the apartment, and here she took he vengeance. She jumped up at me and I instantly thought that I should keep the electric charger from falling in the sink. Mind you, the sink had no water in it, so my chances of being electrocuted were slim to none, but still safety first (except, apparently, when it comes to using razors near your head and leaving doors open). So I lunged (okay, quickly jabbed) the foot to my left to catch the electric charger and felt a slight buzz at my right temple. Here is the result of that slight buzz:
Yowsers. A little bit of yelling at the Sparkle, I confess, followed, but really, what can you do. I spent about five seconds trying to fix it but ended up with what looked like the start of a moronically hideous bowl cut so I stopped. Luckily, there's a new barbershop around the block, so I went there for an emergency fix - couldn't very well walk around with a hideous bowl cut, you know, what with my fans and all. He did this:
To the back and top, and that's pretty much the only detailed shot I can show you without vomiting all over the keyboard. Yep, I look a little hideous, but better now than with the sideburn-ectomy I had given myself moments before. In fact, I proceeded to shave me 5 day beard into a goatee to give myself a psychotic killer kinda motif. Instead I may have ended up with some odd combo of Beaker the Muppet, Luis Gonzalez (oddly enough also known by a Muppet nickname, Gonzo), and my childhood friend Brian Baker in his shaven-headed Aggie Drum Corps days. Well, here's the happy result:
SO, mothers hide your daughters, and don't leave the door open when Sparkle is in your apartment and you're trying to do a touchup job on a bad haircut. Lest you end up like THAT. Actually, it's not terrible, I just don't look much like myself. And it's hard to play nice acoustic love songs this way. I may have to exclusively do acoustic Pantera covers from now on. Mouth for WAR!!!!
That's basically been the meat of the week. If I had a bag on my shoulder, perhaps I'd look even MORE like a military man. Anyhoo - I will try to get something daily going for Aaron's stay. Until then, because it's now running through my head, I'll leave you with these touching lyrics from Diamond Darrel (RIP) et al:
"Mouth For War" by Pantera
Revenge! I'm screaming revenge again.
Wrong! I've been wrong for far too long.
Been constantly so frustrated: I've moved mountains with less.
When I channel my hate to productive I don't find it hard to impress.
Bones! In traction!
Hands break to hone raw energy.
Bold! And disastrous!
My ears can't hear what you say to me.
Hold your mouth for war
Use it for what it's for
Speak the truth about me
Determined!
Possessed! I feel a conquering will down inside me.
Strength! The strength of many to crush who might stop me.
My strength is in number, and my soul lies in every one.
The releasing of anger can better any medicine under the sun
Hold your mouth for war
Use it for what it's for
Speak the truth about me
Determined!
(Insert Freaking Sweet Guitar Solo Here)
There comes a time within everyone to close your eyes to what's real...
No comprehension to fail / I vacuum the wind for my sail / Can't be the rest / Let others waste my time / Owning success is the bottom line / Like a knife into flesh / After life is to death / Pulling and punching the rest of duration / NO ONE can piss on this determination! / HUH!
Gossip: The A-Child - that's right, my brother, AJ Wright - lands tomorrow evening. We are going to tear South Grafton up, yo! Seriously, I am excited, and hopefully we will collaborate on some music / writing projects. Should be awesome. I'll keep you updated.
Back2Blog: Slow week involving a whole lot of reading, guitar-playing and general computer maintenance. Also, what with the one car (and the fact that I ain't workin'), a lot of trips to Rebecca Maggiedeleine's Farm. Er, Vet School. She's been on her radiology rotation, and has likewise had little to nothing going on. I apologize for the severe dearth of content, but I figured I would just wait for the dog to strike me rather than report a whole lot of "today I made coffee" type entries. Wait - did I just say wait for the dog to strike me?
Yeah, it looked something vaguely like that. I had just gotten a haircut at our local Supercuts from a new girl, let's call her "Jenny." An although-unbeknownst-to-me fateful moment occurred between us when Jenny asked, " how do you want the sides?" normally I reply with an ambiguous "somewhere between a 1 and a 2," which almost unfailingly garners me a 1 and a half. Today, thought, I wasn't really thinking, and so I just said, "short, I just don't want my hair hanging over my ears." She said, "Okay, how about a two," and apparently my desire for shortness did not come across.
So Jenny's cut was suboptimal, really left the sides too long and the hairs were sticking out uneven lengths. Not Krusty-sticking out, but sticking out nonetheless. So I went into the bathroom when I got home, pulled out my electric razor/clippers and... did nothing. The battery was dead, so I had to plug it in. Another fatal mistake. Well, not fatal, but... the toothbrush charger and the iStation were plugged into the bathroom socket, so I unplugged the iStation and opened the door to set its adaptor on the counter. I failed to close the door this time, which I suppose was the actual mistake in this entire mess. SO I plugged in the razor, went to lightly trim the edge of my sideburns when... um, see above.
SPARKLE!!!! She came flying in the bathroom - I had not adequately petted her hello on my way into the apartment, and here she took he vengeance. She jumped up at me and I instantly thought that I should keep the electric charger from falling in the sink. Mind you, the sink had no water in it, so my chances of being electrocuted were slim to none, but still safety first (except, apparently, when it comes to using razors near your head and leaving doors open). So I lunged (okay, quickly jabbed) the foot to my left to catch the electric charger and felt a slight buzz at my right temple. Here is the result of that slight buzz:
Yowsers. A little bit of yelling at the Sparkle, I confess, followed, but really, what can you do. I spent about five seconds trying to fix it but ended up with what looked like the start of a moronically hideous bowl cut so I stopped. Luckily, there's a new barbershop around the block, so I went there for an emergency fix - couldn't very well walk around with a hideous bowl cut, you know, what with my fans and all. He did this:
To the back and top, and that's pretty much the only detailed shot I can show you without vomiting all over the keyboard. Yep, I look a little hideous, but better now than with the sideburn-ectomy I had given myself moments before. In fact, I proceeded to shave me 5 day beard into a goatee to give myself a psychotic killer kinda motif. Instead I may have ended up with some odd combo of Beaker the Muppet, Luis Gonzalez (oddly enough also known by a Muppet nickname, Gonzo), and my childhood friend Brian Baker in his shaven-headed Aggie Drum Corps days. Well, here's the happy result:
SO, mothers hide your daughters, and don't leave the door open when Sparkle is in your apartment and you're trying to do a touchup job on a bad haircut. Lest you end up like THAT. Actually, it's not terrible, I just don't look much like myself. And it's hard to play nice acoustic love songs this way. I may have to exclusively do acoustic Pantera covers from now on. Mouth for WAR!!!!
That's basically been the meat of the week. If I had a bag on my shoulder, perhaps I'd look even MORE like a military man. Anyhoo - I will try to get something daily going for Aaron's stay. Until then, because it's now running through my head, I'll leave you with these touching lyrics from Diamond Darrel (RIP) et al:
"Mouth For War" by Pantera
Revenge! I'm screaming revenge again.
Wrong! I've been wrong for far too long.
Been constantly so frustrated: I've moved mountains with less.
When I channel my hate to productive I don't find it hard to impress.
Bones! In traction!
Hands break to hone raw energy.
Bold! And disastrous!
My ears can't hear what you say to me.
Hold your mouth for war
Use it for what it's for
Speak the truth about me
Determined!
Possessed! I feel a conquering will down inside me.
Strength! The strength of many to crush who might stop me.
My strength is in number, and my soul lies in every one.
The releasing of anger can better any medicine under the sun
Hold your mouth for war
Use it for what it's for
Speak the truth about me
Determined!
(Insert Freaking Sweet Guitar Solo Here)
There comes a time within everyone to close your eyes to what's real...
No comprehension to fail / I vacuum the wind for my sail / Can't be the rest / Let others waste my time / Owning success is the bottom line / Like a knife into flesh / After life is to death / Pulling and punching the rest of duration / NO ONE can piss on this determination! / HUH!
Sunday, June 11, 2006
Sine O' The Times
Site or Gossip? You Betcha
New Dog Tail - The State of Dog
New Art Gallery
Beck's Art Gallery
THE ARSENAL!!!
...Starts to Cycling, and I'm filled with 2 Pis - could it be a trig function in me, or is this the way my personality's supposed to be???
Love having my personality, relative lack of happiness and thoughts reduced to trivial one-liners, gentle readers. How apt. Well, chew on this negative one:
This little sticker was affixed to a pack of 24 wooden old skool pencils I bought earlier this semester. Serves nicely as a little corporate decal of the apocalypse, methinks - like a dentist's office treasure chest of inane questions. Why the colon after "includes?" What makes these particular pencils "pre-sharpened" as opposed to just "sharpened?" I mean, I understand the notion of a "pre-approved loan" - approved before you even meet me - but was there any chance I wasn't going to qualify for pencil sharpening, that you're going out on a limb for me here? And what's with sharpening my pencils for me anyways? Is this a major effort-saving selling point, like I'm comparison shopping pencil packs and the 15 seconds you saved me is the deal clencher? And if so, once you make the purple print on shiny silver sticker step, why not throw a guy some exclamation points - are you implying that the inclusion of pre-sharpened pencils is some run of the mill every day event? Maybe my biggest qualm with this entire experience - why stop at 4? Aren't you just opening the door for your competitors to offer 6 of 24 sharpened pencils? Is there some kind of pencil shaving cartel out there? For sake's sake, why not sharpen all 24? Would that make this whole endeavor cost-inefficient? Would you need the sticker if all 24 were sharpened - I mean, it's pretty obvious that 4 are, and I understand your need to point it out to sell more packs of pencils, but it seems that having all 24 pencils sharpened might make the relative sharpened status of the pencils very obvious, and the sticker would be rendered moot. Is there some kind of under the table collusion with the silver sticker manufacturers happening here? Penultimately, can you imagine the corporate meetings that went into confirming the decision to include this sticker? "This pack of pencils is just missing something; something that screams "buy me." Have we ever tried sharpening the pencils ahead of time - you know, pre-sharpening the pencils?" Next meeting: "Ooh! Nice font! I like what you've done with the purple and the silver, but is there anyway we can get a colon in there? And I really don't like odd numbers; can we change that three to a four?" And finally, picture the poor enslaved Polynesian worker who knows just enough English to realize how ridiculous these 100,000 sticker she has to affix are - he has to constantly fight off the temptation to take a pre-sharpened pencil and pre-jab it into his pre-frontal cortex to relieve his pre-suffering.
Ah, the whole thing leaves me Nyetplexed:
Natch, I will now put that sticker somewhere clever and make smug sarcastic quips about it on a day to day basis.
Oh, this just in - the Beck and I have decided to forego wedding pics, and will instead go with these:
Those were drawn by amazing Walnut Hill artist Jean Kim as an engagement gift - you can see the full deal by clicking on either of our glorious mugs.
Relatively low-key weekend here - Ali Van Hoff and Dave stopped by on Saturday for their semi-annual dog food retrieval, so both Beck and I AND S & W were very psyched to see them. Watched some of the World Cup on parts of Saturday and Sunday, caught the first period of game 3 of the hapless Stanley Cup Finals (some of the most exhilarating hockey I've seen in some time) and watched some rather inept basketball from both sides, but more from the Miami Heat on Sunday night. Practiced guitar a fair amount all weekend and took a truckload of pictures on Sunday, hopefully some of which will make the new arsenal page look sweet. Now, if only I could play just as sweet...
As long as I'm up and writing, some quick hits... I don't think I caught this, but at some point sportscasters decided they were broadcasting to the LCD... it should be obvious why a sport like soccer, an epic battle revolving around a war of attrition designed to gain the slightest advantage for just a chance at truly rare treasures (goals), has trouble catching on with the ADHD pleasure-now principles in America. Not to say that no one in America loves soccer - people here read Pynchon on occasion, too - but such clean, obvious metaphors like Hockey and Soccer in America don't come along every day... Kerry Wood. Kerry Wood. His name is Kerry Wood. He does not play golf, and nothing belongs to him. Kerry Wood... I was told by Corrine that her husband thought I "seemed like a nice, smart sports guy - like I probably watch football and such." I don't know what that means... Speaking of the 'Nut:
From left to right, back row, that's Maria, Alanna, Jaime, Cerissa, Alden, Sae Seul, Hyun Ji, Kenny, & Rita, and the front two are Emily and Kathi. Jeanne and Marc couldn't make the picture day, I'll get them at some other point.
Week off until summer camp kicks up at the Nut - I'll do my best to be productive...
And if I'm not, I've always got this minor bit of nightmarish inspiration:
New Dog Tail - The State of Dog
New Art Gallery
Beck's Art Gallery
THE ARSENAL!!!
...Starts to Cycling, and I'm filled with 2 Pis - could it be a trig function in me, or is this the way my personality's supposed to be???
Love having my personality, relative lack of happiness and thoughts reduced to trivial one-liners, gentle readers. How apt. Well, chew on this negative one:
This little sticker was affixed to a pack of 24 wooden old skool pencils I bought earlier this semester. Serves nicely as a little corporate decal of the apocalypse, methinks - like a dentist's office treasure chest of inane questions. Why the colon after "includes?" What makes these particular pencils "pre-sharpened" as opposed to just "sharpened?" I mean, I understand the notion of a "pre-approved loan" - approved before you even meet me - but was there any chance I wasn't going to qualify for pencil sharpening, that you're going out on a limb for me here? And what's with sharpening my pencils for me anyways? Is this a major effort-saving selling point, like I'm comparison shopping pencil packs and the 15 seconds you saved me is the deal clencher? And if so, once you make the purple print on shiny silver sticker step, why not throw a guy some exclamation points - are you implying that the inclusion of pre-sharpened pencils is some run of the mill every day event? Maybe my biggest qualm with this entire experience - why stop at 4? Aren't you just opening the door for your competitors to offer 6 of 24 sharpened pencils? Is there some kind of pencil shaving cartel out there? For sake's sake, why not sharpen all 24? Would that make this whole endeavor cost-inefficient? Would you need the sticker if all 24 were sharpened - I mean, it's pretty obvious that 4 are, and I understand your need to point it out to sell more packs of pencils, but it seems that having all 24 pencils sharpened might make the relative sharpened status of the pencils very obvious, and the sticker would be rendered moot. Is there some kind of under the table collusion with the silver sticker manufacturers happening here? Penultimately, can you imagine the corporate meetings that went into confirming the decision to include this sticker? "This pack of pencils is just missing something; something that screams "buy me." Have we ever tried sharpening the pencils ahead of time - you know, pre-sharpening the pencils?" Next meeting: "Ooh! Nice font! I like what you've done with the purple and the silver, but is there anyway we can get a colon in there? And I really don't like odd numbers; can we change that three to a four?" And finally, picture the poor enslaved Polynesian worker who knows just enough English to realize how ridiculous these 100,000 sticker she has to affix are - he has to constantly fight off the temptation to take a pre-sharpened pencil and pre-jab it into his pre-frontal cortex to relieve his pre-suffering.
Ah, the whole thing leaves me Nyetplexed:
Natch, I will now put that sticker somewhere clever and make smug sarcastic quips about it on a day to day basis.
Oh, this just in - the Beck and I have decided to forego wedding pics, and will instead go with these:
Those were drawn by amazing Walnut Hill artist Jean Kim as an engagement gift - you can see the full deal by clicking on either of our glorious mugs.
Relatively low-key weekend here - Ali Van Hoff and Dave stopped by on Saturday for their semi-annual dog food retrieval, so both Beck and I AND S & W were very psyched to see them. Watched some of the World Cup on parts of Saturday and Sunday, caught the first period of game 3 of the hapless Stanley Cup Finals (some of the most exhilarating hockey I've seen in some time) and watched some rather inept basketball from both sides, but more from the Miami Heat on Sunday night. Practiced guitar a fair amount all weekend and took a truckload of pictures on Sunday, hopefully some of which will make the new arsenal page look sweet. Now, if only I could play just as sweet...
As long as I'm up and writing, some quick hits... I don't think I caught this, but at some point sportscasters decided they were broadcasting to the LCD... it should be obvious why a sport like soccer, an epic battle revolving around a war of attrition designed to gain the slightest advantage for just a chance at truly rare treasures (goals), has trouble catching on with the ADHD pleasure-now principles in America. Not to say that no one in America loves soccer - people here read Pynchon on occasion, too - but such clean, obvious metaphors like Hockey and Soccer in America don't come along every day... Kerry Wood. Kerry Wood. His name is Kerry Wood. He does not play golf, and nothing belongs to him. Kerry Wood... I was told by Corrine that her husband thought I "seemed like a nice, smart sports guy - like I probably watch football and such." I don't know what that means... Speaking of the 'Nut:
From left to right, back row, that's Maria, Alanna, Jaime, Cerissa, Alden, Sae Seul, Hyun Ji, Kenny, & Rita, and the front two are Emily and Kathi. Jeanne and Marc couldn't make the picture day, I'll get them at some other point.
Week off until summer camp kicks up at the Nut - I'll do my best to be productive...
And if I'm not, I've always got this minor bit of nightmarish inspiration:
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)