The hoarding of wallet contents

Since it was pointed out that I'm indeed a hoarder, I am really really attempting to pare things down. after all, the hoarding is most unattractive, really. i don't really want this one to get away, or at least, think that i'm a complete nut-job. i really really really dig her. y'all know what i'm typing about, right?

The wallet of doom is one of the foci of the hoarding. Thus, I have exploded it for y'all's (pronounced y'allz-ez. it's a texas thing, really. no where else in the world exists y'all plural possesive) amusement.

the contents (italics indicate items that are being eliminated. the punctuation is whack on this list):

• one Colorado driver's license (I'm not carrying my spare);
• one business card from the "pacho Garcia cafe" in dilley, texas (a horrible place);
• one aetna dental insurance card;
• one linens and things credit card (a great way to get digits from the females if y'all are lookin');
• one card certifying that I've completed the "RWP On-Track Safety" (the federal railroad fools) program;
• one card certifying that I've completed the "UPRR Safety" course (union pacific rail road corporation is probably the most evil company ever, and i feel super-shitty because i'm the enabler much of the time. not for long, though);
• one sticky note with these words (clearly, a radiochemistry bottle order):
• coolers x 6;
• HNO3 gal x 30;
• 500 ml amber x 10;
• one insurance card for a 1983 Volvo wagon (expires 3-1-2005);
• one social security card (mangled. Why do I carry this?);
• one frequent shopper card issued by total beverage. (everything you can think to drink. hell yes!);
• one king soopers "soopercard";
• one visa debit card for my checking account;
• one visa credit card that I use for business expenses;
• one visa credit card that I use for personal stuff;
• one card certifying that I've completed the OSHA 8 hour HAZWOPER refresher course;
• one great-west healthcare health insurance card;
• one business card for the "boulder bins self storage";
• one business card for "nick dyl: optician ABOC" (he was trying to queer eye me with glasses and i was way way resisting. i shouldn't have.);
• one sticky note with "J8QHRHQ" written on it (means nothing to me, really);
• one business card for someone claiming to be "kevin manley" (i regret having this now. the story sort of angered me, or something. i had no clue, really);
• one receipt for two 6' banana-speakon speaker cables (date = 10/18/2003, total = $50.94. it's expensive to run these rigs);
• three mangled business cards for jeremy ziehe, environmental scientist;
• one membership card for blockbuster video (located at 1020 florida ave., longmont, Colorado);
• one complimentary calling card from denver international airport (fuckers). good for twenty minutes;
• one American express gold card (I hate those AMEX sonsofbitches. how'd I get this, anyway?);
• one sticky note that indicates thirty three in hash marks;
• one sticky note that says (clearly, notes on the deer trail sampling):
• 6 leachate;
• 8 l5-3;
• 13; and
  
• = 27 + dup
  
• one business card for guitars etc., in longmont Colorado. The interesting part is what's written on the reverse side:
• NBS Electronics - Fat Willie (phone number); as well as
  
• national speaker - Neil (phone number).
• one eyeglass prescription; and
  
• receipts for business:
• 11 x $2 for E-470;
• one receipt for $8.19 of ice; and
  
• four receipts totalling $227.86 for oil and fuel for the cameron-cole mobile.

dude, fuck

it appears that i have construction in the backyard. this really sucks. they are building a stormwater system for the new development across 144th. they'd better not fuck with my trees, man. this "system" amounts to a large riprap-stabilized trench that will run just outside the property line (jeff flipped out when they were trespassing and wanted to trench through his property--i have orders to ask people to leave). so much for my fortress of serenity, now.

i'm sounding like some sort of environmental whacko.

check

this out. it goes in the put on your surprised face category.

received from janette

i'm not a fan of children, but this amused me this morning.

(tm)

ought to stand for "tom murphy" and not "trade mark."

but i'm totally at a loss for rockshows (tm) this weekend without tom murphy emails. i love that guy. really, i do.

i'm pathetic, though. i'm feeling especially alone and afraid tonight. used to be most comfortable with this feeling. now, i hate it.

"obviously, you require more yoga to start that generator."

this is the sort of semi-abusive stuff (she didn't think so) that i said to the hippie boulder girl for much of the day. equating yoga with excercise is pretty laughable when she can't pull start the generator. basically, emily is worthless for any sort of physical labor. i don't expect her to be able to lift >100 pounds or anything unreasonable, but maybe i am. she was relegated to paperwork, which she did not enjoy. even after 12 hours of verbal abuse, she still hugged me goodbye. perhaps i'm over thinking this, but is it possible that i've got a superfan?

despite my body chemistry being completely fucked, we did indeed finish on schedule. thus, i can do some silly saturday stuff tomorrow, and otherwise nap the day away. it looks like i'm out of the office for 3 weeks in april. this will be painful as hell. i'm not a fan.

the nitwit is playing with her footbag tonight. she's adapted to colorado quite well. she requires "attention."

i can lick any sonofabitch in the house got a sweet write up in the westword!!! i need to go to that show so that i can replace my "republicans suck" shirt (which is missing in action), and, of course, say hello to the sobs. that's monday night? fuck. that'll make for a dismal tuesday morning, but it must be done. truly a great american rock band.

i'm breaking my "photo required" rule so bad, man.

this is an early night after a 10 hour day of real labor and 3 hours of some driving. and, i want to hang myself.

ouch

my kidneys hurt. could be that cadmium dust or more likely, dehydration.

today's best phone conversation was "are you guys sampling or at a party?" i'm going to be in trouble when i go back to the office. i think that i'll opt out on friday.

Today, and this night (this gets a little bit guitar-geeky), work stuff, sex, repost

Today was unleashing the mobile music collection so that the dude would shut up and dance (or something--i ought to cut down on the DK references, although i use them unconsiously). I stuck it on shuffle and was stunned at the diversity. I think that maybe I like the shuffle. 60 GB of music is truly a lot of rock, so I'm bound to wind up listening to Steve reich's drums, part iii, followed by poison, followed by waylon Jennings. Shuffle is indeed like a box of chocolates.

we smoked a pump today. Doesn't that sound familiar?? The vendor sucks, and gives us bad wiring. Really, I want to sample some grounded, really. The best part about this final background radiochem sampling event is that they cannot give me a single person for more than two days. This means that I get the truck and don't have to use my gasoline to go anywhere. Sure, it's a bitch to park, and it Anita luxury, but I think that I can cope. The batmobile isn't either. But it's fun, right??

so, I left the site at 13:00. I had to raise some hell with the equipment vendor. This time, the laboratory didn't screw me with bottles, which rocks. I finally made it down to my new favorite music store, sound town. It's way more sweet than the rock-stick-mega-house. Kurt referred me to them for tubes for the ugly sounding mesa.

I got home and decontaminated and took a sweaty nap (indeed, I am a sweaty man). I was awakened by the telephone, and a lovely voice on the other end. That made my evening, even if it sounds cheesy.

tonight, after screwing around with the domestic stuff, I retubed the amp of doom. Damn the high voltage warnings. I've heard that self-servicing tube amps is a dangerous hobby, but I haven't heard of a musician being killed while goofing around with his amp. People get shocked silly all the time, but that's usually because of crappy club wiring. The mesa is fixed-bias, so I figured that I could take it on myself and perhaps fix the crunchy attack that's been bothering me.

I consulted the schematic for the correct tubes. I'm sort of a nerd that way. Copyright 1965 is hilarious. I had no idea that this design was that old. I didn't opt for the 6550s in the power stage because the 6l6s are totally loud enough, and I actually dig the sludgy when I hurt them.

the old tubes looked pretty bad, and were probably the originals. Hell, they were made in the u.s.a. how crazy is that?

my new tubes are slovakian (4 x 12ax7a, and 6 x 6l6gc, all by jj tubes, which the kaptian is impressed with, which is good enough for me), and lack the gnarly corrosion and stuff. and...They don't have the crappy crunch. The noise seems reduced. The tone is really about the same, which is monsterous, but I'm convinced that anything sounds amazing through the electric grandmother. I haven't turned it up to see if we're louder. The current configuration of the feng shui means that I'll damage my hearing more if I do turn up. I require a basement practice space.

(with a band? I still haven't heard from those AR guys. Musicians are a flakey bunch. Really, we are.)

I ought to just get a practice amp, although the stadium practice setup is funny as hell, even if I can't hear so well anymore. Thank god for master volume, even if I think that it's the ultimate dishonor.

tomorrow, Katherine is coming out to play with me. She rocks. Even if she's the new girl, I really like her a lot. And...She loathes Jessica Simpson, which is awesome. Thursday is Emily, who's a really nice girl, but way too idealistic. She has lived in boulder county her whole life, so I suppose that it's not really her fault. Unfortunately, she's in this business for the wrong reasons. i'm apparently lucky as hell to sample with these "hotties." i hate hearing about what guys want to do to the women in our office. i'm so glad to be leaving sort of soon. it's unacceptable. i hate that part of the boy stuff. maybe i'm just testosterone deficient (had that checked, though, and i'm actually just weird).

the funniest thing ever was emily (who comes off as totally innocent) asking me what i knew about anal bleaching. that was pretty awkward, but cool anyway.

I'll repost the horse necropsy post for you. That photo isn't nearly as disgusting as the real thing was to a 15-year-old Jeremy. That job really turned me off of wanting to help animals. I'd rather pay someone else.

basement feline lab music revisited

when i worked at the a & m, the only station that got good reception in my "feline experimentation basement" was the "oldies" station. it seemed like they played lots of old clapton and jefferson airplane and yardbirds and troggs and zombies, as well as lots of buddy holly (another great texan). i heard hendrix for the first time on a lunch break on a fuckin' real jukebox.

that's a horse necropsy photo. borrowed, but still the most disgusting thing i've seen besides childbirth.

anyhow, that summer of disgust really cemented a lot of cool old music for me.

tonight, i'm learning "wonderful tonight" (my favorite clapton song) and some other classic clapton. 'turns out that sunshine of your love is actually in d instead of e, as i've always played it. transposition is always a wonderful excercise. if it was drop-d, wouldn't it be heavier? not likely. it's fucking awesome up high. the solo section with improv bass is mysterious, but i can certainly rock in a d blues scale. i'll dig it.

It's almost too much to bear

My work angst, that is. Today, the dude told me all about how cool "germanica" is. As in, the place, germanica. I can only assume that it was Germany that he spoke of. This is the dude that is running the show?!? It makes me want to kill, really.

very much agonizing, really.

the photo is of the leachate collection pond today. yeah, that's some lovely water [only a little bit of heavy metals (rock)]. i felt like i was on the beach. i'd drink it on a dare.

it's almost enough to push me over the edge, and have another breakdown. Going to a skrink and attempting to explain that them that it's a mad, mad world doesn't really work so well, however. They'd likely drug me, which is unacceptable since i'd FIND a way to abuse it (addictive personality is a bad thing left unchecked). Luckily, I have friends that give me hope. i love you all, every one of you.

apparently, the public education system in Nebraska is a dismall deal. This dude has a degree, and is willing to play the games that allow him to advance in the company. Apparently, that's really all it takes. the part of the dude's deal that really agitates me the most is that he's most likely going to reproduce and spawn idiots: the next generation.

most of the morning was spent with his tales of the weekend--snowboarding and drinking and getting some amazing weed in Breckenridge. I feined interest (i shouldn't--been there, done that). drop 300 hits of LSD and tell me about snowboarding on reality, man.

also, I'm stunned that his wife puts up with this shit. Maybe I'm just as annoying. My weekend was spent mostly drinking in bed, with several breaks to bass solo. Humanity (or dumb-ass americans) are really getting me down. someone should tell me if i'm a piece of crap like the dude. really. some of you could do it, and it might matter to me.

I did talk to captain-k today. He's like the encouraging big brother that I never had. and, a tone and tube snob, which is something and someone that i require in my life. I love Kurt.

in addition, i talked to jessica. she's awesome. i'll not air her stuff here though, because it's a lot more heavy than my lame whining. what could have been? i think that everything worked out for the best, really, even if it hurt(s) sometimes. if you never learn anything from experiences, you're missing the point. i love jessica, too.

anti-hipster and anti-stoner and sort of anti-people summarizes my angst, really. i require stimulation from people other than idiotae. yeah, and i'm listening to kiss.

depression loses

the friday night hatred for people was almost certain to lead to a depressive episode. i cranked up the supplements, kept superbusy, drank, and spent a great deal of time in bed.

i feel a lot better this afternoon.

Name confusion rocks

Text of Democratic radio address

I thought that it was hilarious that the dude's name is marion berry. talking about drug stuff? Yeah, I was confused. It's a different dude. Definitely not Marion Barry. This totally amused me for a little while this morning. with a name like mine, i never have to worry about such things.

Mahoney is now calling Vera "Sarah," which is also hilarious.

wow!

i actually slept pretty well, once i got to bed. since the nitiwt is now afraid of the bed, i can actually sleep. sort of regenerative or something.

but what's with the blood coming out of my nose? apparently, hypertensive man rides again. i hope that blood doesn't leak from other orifices. that's when i get weirded out. it will pass.

i'm an angry man, but you knew that

tonight, i stumbled upon henry rollins: uncut from nyc. this is an awesome spoken word deal. ifc rocks for putting this on. i'm still waiting for the jello biafra primetime special.

Saturday tacos?

Since I borrowed one of the folks trucks, I had lunch over there. Today was a taco-o-RAM, which cracks me up. At least my mother knows how to do it right.

the TEX-mex is all that mom cooks well, just like me. Growing up on the border skews one's perception of food, or what passes as food.

tripe and pork salivary glands are really perfectly edible, much to some former roommate's dismay.

in other news, my feng-shui is all fucked up with this new edition (bobby brown in the house). addition is more apt. i might have to hire a consultant to get me out of this one. i managed a slight purge amid the chaos, but i fear that nitwit has become a casulty of furniture. she's completely m.i.a.

Stolen from the mighty jenn

Ten years ago, it was early 1996 (i think that i've done this one before).

1. How old were you? 21
2. What grade were you in? a junior at the university
3. Where did you go to school? of Colorado
4. Where did you work? I believe that I worked for the folks as a garbage collector.
5. Where did you live? With that bitch
6. How was your hair style? I had opted out by that point, also known as my "cancer patient hair style" I actually used that to my advantage once--how things change...
7. Did you wear braces? never have
8. Did you wear contacts? I had decided that glasses were a better accessory by that point.
9. Did you wear glasses? indeed. they were these tortoise shell and wire things.
10. Who was your best friend? was Tony B. still in town at that point? No one else can complete my sentences like that guy to this day. he should move back so that we can raise some hell in a middle-aged way.
11. Who was your boyfriend/girlfriend? that bitch.
12. Who was your celebrity crush? I can't remember shit like that.
13. Who was your regular-person crush? it was still the honeymoon stage (only two years into the relationship).
14. Were you a virgin? ha. kinky sex makes the world go 'round.
15. How many piercings did you have? none at that point.
16. How many tattoos did you have? none, but I'd given a few.
17. What was your favorite band/singer/rapper? 1996 was a dark year for music for me. that was the year that the process came out, so i know that skinny puppy was in the disc player, right alongside hank, and fuckin' pantera.
18. Had you smoked a cigarette yet? like a chimney.
19. Had you gotten drunk or high yet? yes. My folks donated an unlimited supply of both to me. weed and beam anyone?
    
20. Had you driven yet? yes, and had totaled a couple of trucks.
21. If so which car? I was cruising a pre-gas crisis number called the black hole (you put money into it, and it disappears). a 1973 shortbed gmc 4x4. ugly and tough. This was right after my hit-the-windshield incident in the s-10 of doom. Reagan was president, right?
22. Which of your pets were still alive? my Siamese cat bozzer was only a teenager. I miss him.
23. Looking back, are you where you thought you would be in 1996? I figured that I'd be dead by now, really. I tried. i was that miserable.
    
24. If you could change one thing from the past 10 years what would it be? I should've gone with my gut feeling about that bitch. i learnt my lesson too well, and now i have to deal with stupid issues that i created myself what seems like ages ago.
    
    i wouldn't change any of it, though. i learned a lot from the 21-31 decade (and that's a damn good thing).
    

ha ha

the cat must think that we're moving or something. with everything in such disarray, i'd think so too. she's stomping around, screaming, all fluffy.

r.i.p.

words of wisdom

i stole this audio clip from the "say not a word" live video. i forgot how much i love mikey and matt's fuckin' commentary on death. they may have been drunk, but it's still true.

on that note, i'm off to a fuckin' rock show.

my new friend, raymond

i got to the venue early and was accused by a homeless-looking type of looking sad as i walked down the sidewalk. we got into it about my happiness. my credit column looks something like this:

• health
• shelter
• girl
• family
• friends
• job

i told him that i was actually doing fucking great and that all i required was a rock band.

raymond apparently had been incarcerated for the last six years and required a beer. at least he was straight with me. apparently, i bought him his second beer in six years at a completely no habla bar on larimer north of the marquee theater (actually that was a damn fine PBR, really). i have no idea why he was locked up, and it really didn't matter. he didn't think that i was 31. he's a piano player. he digs nude beaches and skinny dipping. he was stoked that i was meeting a lady, and told me that she'd be a fool not to fall in love with me. my response? "yeah, that'll happen."

apparently, i really made this guy's night. i told him that it was only karma that i required for payment for my kindness, and he couldn't help me with that. it's obvious that i'm a fucking hippie, or had at least two hippie parents, right?

drinking with ex-cons on larimer is right up there with the laverne incident. shit, at least raymond was cogent. got his degree on the inside and shit. way to go, ray. it was a completely cool chance encounter that helped me feel.

conspiracy man rides (not drunk on a thursday night, i swear, just loose as hell)

have you gotten one of these new $10 bills? as badass as alex hamilton is, i really don't like the red stuff. this is obviously some sort of pinko-commie plot. i should call my grandfather about this one, really.

as much as i like red, it's a little too much like those goddamn redbacks. and we all know what happened to the republic of texas (sucked up by you know who). that republic is dead, and perhaps this one is too? maybe it's because there's a so-called texan in the whitehouse. really, we're all not morons, i swear.

those republic of texas whackos really ought to secede. or, at least elect kinky friedman. check this out.

fuck.

the web server seems to be down. hopefully that last post posted. that was a good one.

thursday wrap up

did the pump and treat thing in the morning for work. mostly, i talked on the phone and read the westword best of. highlights for me:

• tom "skullbong" murphy
• red cloud (west)
• neil keener
• ghost buffalo

speaking of the gb, they played a great set despite questionable sound. i was hoping that would be remedied after the first band, mannequin makeout (jenn sez they sound like gwen stephani at halloween, and i believe her). it was really great to see my beloved ghost buffalo crew.

after their set, i got hot, and i know that jenn was tired. we chatted in a cooler location and i confessed my dorkiness (put on your surprised face), and the chest pains. we eventually made it to the parking lot.

i totally had to jump her in the parking lot. that would've been more fun without the cables. maybe some time when we're both rested and don't have anywhere to be in the a.m.

a sunday chicken lyric reference?

shit. i just got it. i had no idea that someone frying chicken was a sunday smell. kris is truly one of the best writers of song, and this one rocks. hell, he's from fucking brownsville, so he can't be all bad. growing up in the valley sucks, trust me. check it out:

Well I woke up Sunday morning,
With no way to hold my head that didn't hurt.
And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad,
So I had one more for dessert.
Then I fumbled through my closet for my clothes,
And found my cleanest dirty shirt.
An' I shaved my face and combed my hair,
An' stumbled down the stairs to meet the day.

I'd smoked my brain the night before,
On cigarettes and songs I'd been pickin'.
But I lit my first and watched a small kid,
Cussin' at a can that he was kicking.
Then I crossed the empty street,
'n caught the Sunday smell of someone fryin' chicken.
And it took me back to somethin',
That I'd lost somehow, somewhere along the way.

On the Sunday morning sidewalk,
Wishing, Lord, that I was stoned.
'Cos there's something in a Sunday,
Makes a body feel alone.
And there's nothin' short of dyin',
Half as lonesome as the sound,
On the sleepin' city sidewalks:
Sunday mornin' comin' down.

In the park I saw a daddy,
With a laughin' little girl who he was swingin'.
And I stopped beside a Sunday school,
And listened to the song they were singin'.
Then I headed back for home,
And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringin'.
And it echoed through the canyons,
Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday.

On the Sunday morning sidewalk,
Wishing, Lord, that I was stoned.
'Cos there's something in a Sunday,
Makes a body feel alone.
And there's nothin' short of dyin',
Half as lonesome as the sound,
On the sleepin' city sidewalks:
Sunday mornin' comin' down.

Clearly

I am so not into colors. The fact is, I don't see them so well, or, rather, differentiate them well. Orange could be red or vice-versa. Yellow versus khaki? Blue versus green is a particular killer on the perception.

this conundrum makes anything out of denim man's box (for wardrobe), or decorative particularly difficult to accomplish. I think that I require a gay boyfriend to help me out with such things. I might have to settle on my gay girlfriend/officemate. That, or just accept that I'm trapped in this jean-jacket and bad couch hell.

if everything was chrome or stainless or nickel or indigo denim or black leather, my so-called shopping expeditions would be far more productive. I still can't believe that I own that surf-green bass. Guitars are pretty easy, though.

with everything else, there are simply too many choices, man. And, I might wind up with something yellow.

nice

Court splits on limiting police searches

enough of the snow already

the morning ritual of scraping and shoveling is really starting to bum me out. this is spring, right?

Last of the Mississippi Jukes

i stumbled upon this film tonight. hell of a documentary, really.

like it's going out of style

fuck, man. i feel like a super-consumer tonight. it's not like me at all. it's kind of fun to be able to do, but i hate to shop and it shows. the grocery store "shopping" is about my speed.

at least i'm not buying bass guitars. tempting, though....

Yeah, this is contagious

Julie and I have spent much of the day shopping for lava lamps and their accoutrements, as well as looking at porn on the internets. we found a really cool 1950s lava bubble lamp. We are slackers.

lots of time on my hands

and, google video is a great time waster.

the truth about the internets

with some strange monsters. clearly, i have too much time on my hands at "work."

hangover

whoops. i indvertantly drank all the liquor last night. this means a headache today. i screwed up prepositions in that last post. grrr.

off to work to sit before my workstation and chill.

it's just not quite right (kind of vague, except for the parties involved)

to spend that kind of time on the phone with anyone. if i hadn't had a couple of drinks, i probably would've gotten a lot more weird with her. definitions are a good thing for me, at least. i'm trying to understand this, and it's nice without anyone "laying down the law," so to speak. this is a really good thing, i think. it seems that our comfort level is high. i really don't want to fuck with that because of my insecurity. i think that she can dig this malfunction of mine.

certainly, some day, perhaps a while off (maybe a long time, really), this all will be clarified to me. meanwhile, i think that we're both having a good time, and i know that i'm not inclined to seek out another good time, so to speak. i don't want to get ahead of myself. the "let's see what happens" edict seems to be working at this point.

i'm feeling good about things, and i think that things are moving along, even if it's slow. slow is alright by me, for sure, since my fast (those new vw ads have almost resulted in an impulse purchase of a fast car; i love the sprockets engineer guys. indeed, germans rock, but y'all knew that if you're reading) hasn't served me well thus far.

shit, i need to sleep, kids.

who knew

that Breast Asymmetry Points To Cancer?

my favorite line from this article is "Few women have perfectly symmetrical breasts." wouldn't that be a great job to have on my resume? JZ, breast analyst?!? might have to add that one to my business card.

cat update, Judge Blocks Biggie, and grocery store overheads

the cat seems to have survived her silica gel ordeal. i'm convinced that my mother must've played with her or something, because she's acting weird.

busted. as much as i dig sampling, it must be done within the confines of "the rules." that having been said, i've lifted stuff from spielberg movies, and television.

fucking depressing but somewhat hilarious. The sound on this page is, for sure, at least. (i listen to the overheads in stores. i can't help it.) real, honest-to-goodness, down-home pot roast?!? obviously, smokey has not visited the 'rents for the sunday chicken. mom tries hard, but really isn't much of a cook. i blame my grandmother (who has never cooked anything, ever). janette could cook, and she used to give me lots of food. i miss her a lot.

a fleeting glimpse of my mortality (was: another near death experience)

we set forth for last chance today, despite the shitty weather. our idea was that we could certainly take water levels, and at least we weren't sampling. actually, the roads seemed passable. we took it easy--no need to get into a wreck for work, again.

everything was going really great until we got to the buffalo farm on east highway 36. just past the "wooly bully" farm, there's a bridge over no water. a big cattle truck was approaching, and the blowing snow left in his wake was a little frightening, but we remained calm. unfortunately for us, there was another truck about two seconds behind him, which happened to be in our lane.

fuck! this got my heart beating. a swerve into the bridge's guardrail, and everything was cool. actually, i think that we hit the curb before the guardrail with a wheel.

we rescued a mexican in sandals that had driven his minivan into a ditch.

we dropped our equipment off at the facility and drove back.

this was truly a "fuck, man" incident. it turned out that the facility, the highway, and the interstate were all closed. i'm taking the afternoon off to decompress and perhaps do some....shopping?

don't even ask.

This cat has skills

I don't know where she found it, but she managed to find one of those little packets of silica gel this evening (i must've bought shoes sometime). When I caught her, she was crunching away at the hard little pellets. on the mostly devoured tyvek envelope is printed "do not eat."

unfortunately, it seems that nitwit is illiterate.

if I were a decent owner, I would look this issue up on the internets and rush her the emergency room which is only a half mile away if need be.

unfortunately, i'm not a decent owner.

a repost

this is funny as hell, really. from the writer of tough talk, and another superfan. this kid always is funny to me (emphasis added):

The Traits of the Undatable 3-19-06

So many girls come up to me and are like, "Date me, He-Man." Whoa, sorry ladies, but you have to apply to fly. Here's a list of qualities I'm NOT looking for in dates.

• YOU GOT JUNK IN THE TRUNK: No seriously, you open up the trunk of your car and it's nothing but empty sprite bottles and old nacho baskets. I'm not putting my laptop case in there. That's actually a metaphor for sexual intercourse. If I like you, I'll say, "I wanna put my laptop case in your trunk, boo." Parking the hard drive is another good one.


• YOU'RE BLACK, HISPANIC OR ANY OTHER MINORITY: I'll date you if you're Icelandic, MAYBE. I'm not racist or anything, but when I'm using a box of crayolas to draw my dream girl, I'm not using the browns. I'm using a lot of peach and yellow. And glitter. And smelly-markers. And then I'll glue on some macaroni. I'm also 1/16th Hispanic, so there's a poetic irony to the whole thing. I also don't date midgets.


• YOU HAVE PRINCIPLES: Save the rainforests? Save the whales? Then save the condoms, because you are annoying and undatable.


• YOU HAVE NEVER SEEN STAR WARS: If I say, "This is like when Darth Vader cut off Luke's hand in The Empire Strikes Back," and you just look at me like I'm speaking spanish, IT IS OVER. In some circles, having never seen Star Wars is a badge of honor. Oh, we're so posh and above everything, because we've never seen Star Wars. DAMN YOU STRAIGHT TO HELL. I'd rather my girlfriend never learned to read, or couldn't walk, or had hair on her face. I'd rather my girlfriend be a guy. A guy named Lando Calrissian.

Sunday chicken update

Retrieved nitwit, who is now sitting at my feet making weird chirping sounds.

checked out the new composting ordinance for the city of boulder with the old guy (the city is apparently getting out of the composting business, and requiring haulers to get into it). it's wrong for many reasons.

none of us had a drink today. this is some sort of family record. instead, we got completely hopped up on coffee and talked about mahoney's new role as grand wizard of the boulder county democrats. although i'm still not sure what his function is, except to give speeches at caucuses (cauci?!?). i hope that he does okay with that, since his strokes have really fucked his vocab up.

mom is trying her hardest to get me to go out with a nurse. i really don't know what to tell her at this point. i really should tell her something so that she backs off. "i'm not interested" just isn't working.

fuck, man. it has snowed

maybe spring hasn't sprung? i really ought to turn on the tv just to see the weather. the am radio doesn't do such a great job with it. kathy sabine is a lot better on tv, too.

it's raining!

and that totally gets me off. spring has sprung, kids. i used to think that my reaction was a barometric one, but now i think that it's a memory one. some pretty hot memories from rain and fog, for sure.

i should just move to the northwest or something. at least visit, anyway.

i do really need to get up to the seattle for a weekend trip (or more?) so that my friend jessica doesn't think that i'm flakey, even though i really really am. i'd really like to get a decent car, and drive there, especially since the latest airport dishonor. haven't done a road trip, except for work recently. i will require additional personnel for such an expedition, however. we will have none of my "better driving because of chemistry" stuff. that's one hell of a good time, though. that's reserved for work (don't tell anyone that you read it here, please). other people wouldn't like to hear of my stimulant abuse on the road, also, i suppose. i'm caught. it's not for the thrill, i swear. it's only for performance enhancement. really. this is one of the reasons for my exit strategy from this jobby. i'm killing myself quickly with the uppers on road trips. you'd have to be either young or completely amped to be able to run a 16-hour day of real labor as i do regularly. it's pretty crummy that that is the expectation. thus, i have told the big boss that i'm out "sometime this summer". the body can't do this anymore without a breakdown; another one would be a bad thing.

i've had too many thus far, and i really feel like i have a great life going for the moment. i'll post about the things that i'm thankful for another time.

back to the rain/road-trip stuff: the northwest is amazing to me. i heart it almost as much as the southwest desolate. however, no one is going to want to spend that kind of time with me. maybe i'm wrong?

enough of that feeling sorry for myself shit....the cool cool rain means that nude on the porch is required. certainly, the neighbors love me. or, they should love me. hee hee hee. here i go.

i'm quite loveable, i think. especially for those neighbors that dig hairy guys.

That rock and roll lifestyle (epic Friday/Saturday summary)

I slept until 10:00. a horrible thing? Not really, I'm running slightly ahead of schedule on my weekend stuff. Last night I had a good time, too.

anyhow, heller did confirm that the show last night was the 'critics choice,' even if his print personnae is tempered with bullshit sometimes. I didn't make it to the tavern because the rev. played first. My intention was to pull a Murphy after the AR set, but since it was switched, I stayed. The rev. and liza played a fucking great set and were accompanied by the AR boys for a couple of numbers. Oddly, the DIY sound was awesome at the bar bar. it was a lot like being at a rehearsal with drunk onlookers. truly mighty.

I talked to al after their set, and he's going to call me this week for rock. This is quite exciting. I really really need to diffuse the "you used to play in red cloud" situation. Playing with another decent band is the appropriate way to put that behind me.

I also ran into Kevin and Karen at the bar. Unreal. Kevin bought me a beer. Apparently, one of his bands is playing with the tarmints next week. Might have to go to that one. a tarmints' "pit" is always fun. Kurt emoting is like watching someone possessed, and it's always difficult for me, but compelling to witness.

jenn loves the reverend and liza. That makes me grin rather stupidly. Hell, just seeing her makes me grin. maia says that I'm happy. This is a possibility. I had to exercise slight restraint (actually really easy since I was so damn tired) when I walked jenn to her car. Neither of us needed to get arrested for lewd conduct, at least not on St. Patrick day, when the fuzz was in full effect.

on the way home, I had to drive the gauntlet where they seemed to be pulling over every third car, or every other car. The dude in front of me and either me, or the guy right behind me were caught. I drove on. Must've not been me, which is good, even though I think that I was all good. I hope that my lady friend made it home safely.

I actually made a mix tape (a first for me). I picked out a bunch of tunes that I like, with some weirdness and classic and a story to round it out. I hope that she maybe digs some of it. it feels so good, even if i've played with two of the bands on the mix tape.

tomorrow, I retrieve the feline companion. The warden of that cat prison (or cat camp) has become increasingly irritated with her busy-ness. Mahoney claims that she's neurotic. Put on your surprised face. This is my cat, man. mahoney is being some sort of super-democrat, so sunday chicken is early.

today and tonight is resting. i'm too old for going out every night, although i can be persuaded to.

Work is like a prison

But I totally slacked off for most of the week. it seems that everyone else is on vacation, so there's very little to do except prepare for my final radiochemistry event at the deer trail facility. Also, wrote the first quarter progress report for the linden facility, although I still need to plug in the numbers from the treatment system for march when they become available.

I'm looking forward to some rock tonight. I require some catharsis.

like a million bucks

i'm not quite sure why i feel so great, but i do. last night was quite a mood elevator. the band, meniskus, didn't do it for me at all. that girl did, though. rachel coached me on some "codes" that i was not picking up on at all. okay, maybe i was suspicious that they were "codes," but unsure of the meanings. i said my goodbyes to the dr. and rachel after driving them home (not going to let them take a cab if i'm heading east).

must remedy the communications situation with kevin. stormy has invited us for dinner? this was a little odd to me, but i actually like the us concept a bunch. hope that i'm not the only one.

got home at 02:30 showered, slept, and arose at 05:30. fabulous. today is more hard work at the job-o-rama (exit strategy is in place now). and tonight is looking like rock and drinks and stuff.

stolen from tom murphy

1. Who was your first prom date?
i was working that night.

2. Who was your first roommate?
roommate, and not lover? the first one that i met would be the rock and roll math professor.

3. What alcoholic beverage did you drink when you got drunk the first time?
i got totally lit on vodka when i was 10 or 11. that saga continues.

4. What was your first job?
"student veterinary technician" at texas a&m university.

5. What was your first car?
A 1984 chevrolet s-10. hell of a vehicle, really. crashworthy, anyway.

6. When did you go to your first funeral?
i've avoided all funerals thus far.

7. How old were you when you first moved away from your hometown?
i moved many many times as a kid. the big one was to colorado when i was 14.

8. Who was your first grade teacher?
Mrs. Millikan at Crockett Elementary in McAllen, Texas. i remember the beating that she gave joey martinez (the kid that sat next to me) like it was yesterday.

9. Where did you go on your first ride on an airplane?
I have no idea. since my father worked in aviation, i logged lots of hours as a child.

10. When you snuck out of your house for the first time, who was it with?
i can't remember being particularly sneaky.

11. Who was your first Best Friend and are you still friends with them?
My best friend? probably dan beltran. i've tracked him down to playing bass in austin, but no luck with contact.

12. Where did you live the first time you moved out of your parents house?
when i was 15, i lived in some wretched apartments in north boulder.

13. Who is the first person you call when you have a bad day?
i usually try not to call someone, because i usually sound really whiney. i hate that about myself.

14. Who's wedding were you in the first time you were a bridesmaid or a groomsmen?
not going to happen.

15. What is the first thing you do in the morning?
suicidal ideation.

16. What was the first concert you ever went to?
get this--fucking lee greenwood in san antonio. or, some classical deal at the university.

17. First tattoo or piercing?
first piercing--ear, age 13.

18. First celebrity crush?
it was totally carrie fisher, man.

19. Age of first kiss?
13, with amber lohr on her back porch.

20. First crush?
i can't remember.

21. first real boyfriend/girlfriend?
jennifer mckee, a super-cute blonde cheerleader (ain't that hilarious). that didn't go well at all.

this sarah situation, resolved

i figured this one out, and it's a 100% funny deal. there's nothing like getting calls from strange women that require my address.

it's a good thing that i was polite.

this is badass

pandora

i am a loser

at least with the $.25 bet. cannot believe that shit. at least i sort of have an excuse to see her.

have a jenn jones in a bad way.

tough tracks, tubes, trash-day, and, tales of my torrid mind (this one got epic)

lately, i've been rocking lots of the neil young. it used to be that andrew and i were anti-neil young. actually, i hadn't been exposed to enough to really make a competant decision.

cowgirl in the sand is basically the shit, although it crashes this computer of doom. maybe it's time to replace this antique with something much more mighty. i love that ominous bass doo-dee-doo-do-do-dee-doo thing. i find it hard to believe that crazy horse was an a cappella band pre-neil. that is, until they sing. goddamn, that's one hell of a song.

beautiful.

i finally got in touch with the godfather, aka "captain tube snob k." kurt really hooked me up with some great information, and a connection for this stuff. although i've owned many tube amps, i really never got into the mystique of them. i sold or traded them once they started acting up. this mesa is a keeper, though. it won't go into the great "pile o' amps" that resides in the "living room." the dude even de-mystified bias for me. kurt ottoway is the man. his quote when i admitted that the mesa used a sextet of power tubes was "shit, that's a lot of power." it's hilariously powerful, really. i so want to unleash this thing on the masses. i'll require a decent d.i. box, really, since the 600 ohm d.i. is superhot.

i have two messages in to nick regarding: the american relay. i can't sound too desperate, since bands are a lot like women.

today was garbage day. it 100% inspired me to jettison some stuff. i still have too much stuff.

last night, i really hoped that the plane would crash. that's a little weird to admit, but i did. for the last few days, i really started to get myself down. i think that no sleep and not feeling like eating did not help my psyche at all. "honey" and "babe" really have an effect on me, even if i wish that they didn't.

however, that all changed when i rebooted the tele after my flight. jenn had left me a message. amazing how that works, really. i don't think that she gets what she does to me. actually, she probably does, and that's a little frightening to me. i like it a lot, though.

dinner with the seaton 'rents doesn't sound like fun. it's a good thing that i've had enough to drink that i cannot drive. tomorrow is tentative seaton time. i'll call jenn about that.

i talked to jessica tonight about things (mostly my recent depressive episode and the recovery from it) and she requires a visit. since i've never been to seattle, it might be fun. jimi has a statue and stuff. it could go alongside my photo of me with the buddy holly statue at the west texas music walk of fame in lubbock (horrible panhandle "city").

i called erich regarding his impending wedding of doom. this is really a weird deal to me. really really weird. "baby brother gets married" is almost enough to be a trigger for me for the nervous breakdown. i will not allow it to be, truly. as close as i came to getting married, i shouldn't be bothered. vera is so much better than "that bitch." mostly, i think that i'm probably just a little jealous because he's found someone willing to put up with him, and who is tolerable, and i have not thus far. or, i don't think that i have [on second thought, maybe i have, recently, but that test is in progress. (i don't even want to think about the implication of that parenthetical, or i will freak out)]. the consolation for these "feelings" is that i'm a lot less stable, and, unattractive than him. i could be wrong, though. if i hadn't dodged the marriage bullets, it is likely that i would've been married a couple of times already. i am certain that i'm a little (ha ha) difficult to deal with, and, perhaps, unaffectionate, but really, i do mean it. i try, really, if she's worth it and not weird.

i try not to express my needy stuff, and i know that i've let that get out of hand. it's a work in progress.

i cannot wait to see the outcome of my $.25 bet with jenn. i'm convinced that i'm all good. economic man doesn't bet on non-sure outcomes. if she wins, i'll shit.

and another thing...i do not require a certain hair color for females. non-dyed is probably best. i shouldn't expect anything other than i'd be willing to do. i've never dyed my hair, although i'm looking sort of blonde at the moment. i've become sort of bothered by the dyed-red thing, so natural is good. at least for me, it is. i still dig the makeup, though. mom wears plenty, and i think that has had an impact on my expectation.

i ought to call it a night, really.

early to bed and early to rise?

i fell asleep at the wheel this evening en route back from the facility. it was just a quick nap, but enough to scare me. pulled into a truck stop and received the coffee from the trucking gods. that was enough to get me back the the hotel, where i crashed again.

now it's 01:30, and i'm wide awake. these 14 hour days have 100% messed the schedule up, man.

how funny is it that the ghost buffalo is built into winamp? fucking hilarious, man.

further evidence of the wormhole in the desert

my watch was a full 20 minutes slow when i reset it this morning. that was at 02:30, and it seems to be working now. maybe this temporal mindfuck thing is real?

if i were to speculate about its location, the wormhole is located somewhere near the truckstop in delle.

my other possible explanation for the watch slowing down is that i have been listening to much neil young. yeah, that could do it, too.

the pipes, the pipes are calling

flirted with the girl at the desk this morning, and felt really good about it. she's paid to be nice to me, though, even if apparently, i smell like gasoline. that cracked me up. my latest personal odors are gasoline and cedar. rock. it doesn't get better than that, really. i didn't realize that the benzene had infested me so much. i'll probably get sick in 20 years.

i was sucessful with the laundry expedition. the place had some pinball too, so i had to rock. the replay was completely unreasonable, so i didn't win. one of the tables had a m.i.a. plunger, which made for an interesting game. i need to venture to the lyons pinball sometime after 15:00 on a sunday. that place rocks, and the tables all play as they should. i need a black knight fix (such a great game, but sort of difficult because of the split levels). i wish that i had a pinball fiend friend. i miss ross because of the pinball stuff. maybe we'll get back into that competition sometime.

after that, i sort of cruised about, checking out the residential areas of town just to see what was up. slc isn't the sparkly clean town that i thought it was after seeing the downtown.

washed the mecury. ate breakfast. washed and fueled the mecury (this was a filthy cruiser).

i decided to catch a movie. the only theater that i know of is the megaplex downtown. so, i went.

i parked in the 2 hour (for 5, and didn't get a ticket!), and walked to the movie. something was going down. some skaters speculated that it was a war protest (couldn't be so lucky).

i found myself engulfed in the st. patrick's day parade (a week early?). lots of kilts (left mine at home), and a couple of decent pipe bands. really, they get me off.

eventually, i made my way to the movie, saw it, went home, passed out, got up, got "dinner", started drinking, accidentally deleted all of my music.

so...i guess i'm stuck with the books/booze/television for the duration. and...xm satellite radio, although i haven't found a station that i dig. it's not even close to being in love with that sirius dj with herpes. i suppose that i can cope.

it's some sort of temporal mindfuck

for some reason everything appears to be moving really slowly. my alternative explanation is that I'm moving very fast (quite unlikely). It's like being amped up on Dexedrine or something.

today is locating a laundry facility for the hazardous clothes, and checking out the slc--I'll probably go check out the satanic sculptures again. I can't stay in the hotel all day, for sure. Later I will come back and transcribe my notes from the field and drink.

i probably ought to give my mercury a bath, too. it's looking pretty non-pimpin'.

lead poisoning isn't a laughing matter

today, i dealt with a 20-year veteran of the drum dock. this place is ground zero for heavy metals, and NONE of the guys wear respirators. they have them, but are too manly, apparently.

this dude is the operations manager at the facility, and basically retarded. i don't know if his lead poisoning is the problem, but he can't speak well at all. i couldn't understand wtf he was talking about until it was explained to me.

his safety briefing is perhaps the most hilarious thing that i've sat through:

• pathogens = passogens
• decibels = decimals
• drum dock = drun dock
  

that's all that i can think of right now. the guys at the facility have incorporated his lingo into their's, at first as a joke, but they slip regularly, and i'm afraid that i will after working with them for a week.

i did not know that "any sound greater than 40 decimals can damage your hearing."

i wear my respirator when it's appropriate, and then have a smoke.

the action-packed consulting

since ditching the partner at the airport, i have been "the boss." really, it's pretty boss. the guys that are working for me told their "real" boss that i was great to work for. i'm pretty much letting them do all of the work, too, and they're rockin'.

today, we had whiteout blizzard bullshit and a killed truck. once the snow subsided, we commenced sampling in the mud-o-rama. thus, i'm now known as the "rally-driving consultant." the years of white knuckle big rigs learnt me real good, apparently. the sad part of this "extreme muddin'" is that the mighty mercury mountaineer differs from the ford explorer in drivetrain, and not just leather and other pretty things. it seems that some engineer must've designed this one for soccer moms. you can't do four wheel slide turns, because the anti-roll computer puts the brakes on. lame. this vehicle won't let you get it up on two wheels and other fun stuff. the folk's garbage rigs will, though. the mercury is a pretty sweet ride to thrash a little though.

also huge is that my blood work came back, and everything's groovy. the doctor probably thinks that i'm a nut (or at least the nurse that i dealt with does), but they're nuts for working in health care. now i need to go to a dirty tattoo parlor or a house of whores.

actually, i'm going to require amusement for saturday. i need to figure something out.

shit!! the so-called chair in my suite is a recliner! i think that i've found my saturday amusement, which is way better than my "cruising for chicks" in slc plan. between the recliner, the ipod, transcription of field notes, and being fixated on a girl, that plan has been aborted.

the girl with that look

it's 100% silly that i got out of my drinking in bed situation for a blog post, but i'm feeling like a new person, really.

smitten? indeed, kids.

she gets me, and i think that she's great. i can't say that i completely get her, though. she's a woman, so maybe i won't.

i really look forward to trying. and, damn it, i need to quit over-thinking everything and relax about her.

missiles, monopolowa and the mesa/boogie

visited a historical site today and a utah state owned liquor store also (this sampling event isn't going well).

it seems that the vodka has changed their bottle?

captain k called and recommends a re-tube. lame. i didn't want to hear that. he says that the mesa/boogies are notorious for eating tubes.

that sucks, but the damn thing sounds great.

slc funk

i think that i have seriously injured my knee.

the bottle order didn't show up. i managed to miss the 45 minute deadline for checked baggage by five minutes.

other than that, all is well in tooele county.

tomorrow...some photos.

it's more of an intuitive groove, or something

getting up before dawn to get on a plane. going to a horrible place.

i know that i'm forgetting something besides sunblock.

Outstanding

Phillip Seymour Hoffman won. I still think that love liza was his best movie, but at least he's being recognized.

Mahoney's t-shirt read "in pig years, I'm a football."

the cat has been sent to cat prison.

Beers with Erich tonight, but Ronnie James Dio did not compel us to play some pool. Instead, we reminisced about running into the planes mistaken for stars at the dio show and drinking warm jagermiester with them. it was truly a classic experience that should have happened in high school.

Packed for my "sampling vacation" tonight while listening to lps. I had forgotten that i had electric ladyland on vinyl. wonderful.

My nerves are out tonight. Something is bothering me.

dream

i dreamt that i was in the desert with a stuck truck. snow began to fall. i didn't panic for some reason, but i should have. instead, i woke up.

get a clue, dude.

Jessica Alba must be an idiot. i wish that it was hustler, though.

is this another pop starlet? really, i have no idea. i'm not down. i did pick up the sin city, which is amazing. the cinematography (animation) blew my mind.

a saturday afternoon bass-o-rama (epic)

so, i've learnt the songs that i can, and, otherwise wanked heavily today with the amps linked. it's really no wonder that my hearing ain't what it used to be. i really need to unload the SWR 1x15". it has tons of low end, but if i want to feel it, i can turn up and break light bulbs (which is so coolio, yo). it's cool when the instrument shakes clothing. today, i knocked over a beverage with sound. that got a four finger devil-horn skull-bong salute. volume is awesome.

also, i actually wrote some stuff on the bass today, which is a first. i don't know how steve harris does it, and i've never written anything on bass. i've been playing for 18 years or something (wow, i'm old), and just had a breakthrough moment.

it's all about the inspiring tone, really. i am loving my tone since picking up the mighty mesa. as it turns out, that cliff burton (i was a metal guy in a previous life) used these amps, too. he was a 4x12" devotee, though, and i'll never give up my 8x10". it's the "standard" of the rock world, and impossible to make sound bad, and, fucking hilarious to play in small clubs since it's louder than the mains.

the amp is making a funny sound, though. i must consult with my tube guru. my hands hurt after 4 hours of bass. i am weak.

fuzzbox and the electric grandmother and many tubes contributed to this post.

i dig her,

even if she thinks that i'm a silly boy. the truth is, i know that i am. there was a time for me when saying that would've been a deal-breaker for me. now, i think that i fucked up lots of opportunities. regret sucks.

turn the page.

i really don't want this to be another one that got away. she's so so so awesome. getting away would be a tragic deal, really. at least on my side it would be. the friends from the rockshow (tm) confirmed my inklings that she's a rather good compliment to the mess that is me.

i'm having a hard time articulating tonight. i am not a wordsmith.

i'm really feeling quite comfortable with her, which is truly amazing. i swore that after "that bitch," i wouldn't allow this to happen ever again.

it is, though. i cannot help myself.

i had enough of my unruly site

and CDOT was freaking out about the drum area's ugliness. i fixed it today. unfortunately, i had to lug drums of purge water (458 pounds of water?!?) around without a dolly. tomorrow, i will pay the price for being motivated. i'm an idiot.

tonight, as usual, i feel sort of sick, just like i always do after a day of dehydrated field fun.

tomorrow, i go BACK to the doctor of doom, since they apparently didn't schedule the appointment and stuff, or something. the health care is whack.

captain k called and made my day. he was stoked to hear that a new project might want me. "just do your thing and you'll totally level them," i love that verb, especially coming from the godfather. he also said that he's heard that they're a good band, although he has contempt for any sans-bass band. "make it a real band and get a bass player," he says. they're working on it.

and...fun tomorrow night. she's a fun gal, really.

mysterious?

my grandmother sent me this link. she was mystified.

erich says it's simply number theory stuff, which it would seem to be, and not mysterious, but that this is. check it out.