Friday, December 28, 2007
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Sorry...
It is totally lame to write in my blog about how I'm not writing in my blog, but I need to inform y'all of the photo series that I'm putting up here in a couple of days....can you say bathroom art?
Monday, December 3, 2007
So Fresh and So Clean Clean
Tide, Clorox, Snuggle
washer, dryer, hangers, fold
waiting, sitting, hum
I love doing my laundry. I take great pride in the the separation process, the wash cycle, and the folding system. You know the feeling you get when you walk in to Rockin' Rudy's on a busy Saturday, that is what it is like inside my head. Just like my friends, family, coworkers, and neighbors, even I need a break from me. I value the 2 hours of laundry that I do nothing but stare at the clear window of drying shirts and jeans. I enjoy the time to sit on a running washer and kick my legs back and forth. I just want to relax and kick back with the hum of the machines.
excuse me, sorry?
are those your dryer sheets?
can I use your soap?
So, you're sitting at home thinking about all that laundry you have to do. You put it all in the baskets and bags, and put it into the back seat of the car. You've got quarters and your new book. You are about to start your car. Wait! Do me a god-damned favor and stop. Stop and think. What else do you need? What are you missing? Soap, Detergent, El Washero Fluido. Grab it from your house or pick some up on the way, because if you ask me for some, I will snap. I know you don't want to buy the single serving of soap out of the vending machine for 12 bucks, but neither do I, that is why I brought soap with me. Luckily, some of the laundry mats in town now offer free soap. The last time someone asked me for soap, before I could start the rant, the woman with 11 loads said, "Ugh!, I hate that kind of soap!"
sneak, tug, roll away
is this one yours? just a sec!
five to one baskets
There are 20 people using 40 washers and dryers, taking up 13 tables. All the while, watching ONE TV and "sharing" FOUR rolling baskets. There is no better social experiment then watching 20 people watch something on TV they all hate, at the risk that someone else is enjoying the program. Listen ma'am, nobody likes the 700 Club, but you. So, if you manage to tear yourself away from Fox News to move your laundry from the washer to the dryer, now you will have to find a basket with wheels. No one wants to use their own flimsy plastic basket for this job, it sits on the floor for god's sake! You've had that thing since freshmen year, it is for getting the clothes to and from the laundry mat and for moving your kitchen shit from apartment to apartment, only. Now, if you find a basket that is not holding (or being held by) someone's coat, purse, and laundry stuff, you grab that thing and don't look back. Throw your clothes in it, ride it around, put a bike lock on it. Every once in a while we make mistakes. I asked a woman if she was using a "free" basket, she said "Not right this second, if you need it for a minute, I don't need it for 10 minutes." She let me "borrow" the basket, only for her to follow me to my washer and dryer and watch as if suddenly I was going to "David Copperfield" the basket out from under her and she would be left to fend for herself. After the last trip, "Are you done?" She then took the basket back to her spot in front of "Family Feud" and the latest Mary Higgins Clark trash, where it sat unused for 20 minutes.
fold the t-shirts, hang
the pants, ball the socks, buttons
zippers, pockets, pink!
The next time I do my laundry I'm turning the TV to the local access channel and using 2 baskets for myself.
washer, dryer, hangers, fold
waiting, sitting, hum
I love doing my laundry. I take great pride in the the separation process, the wash cycle, and the folding system. You know the feeling you get when you walk in to Rockin' Rudy's on a busy Saturday, that is what it is like inside my head. Just like my friends, family, coworkers, and neighbors, even I need a break from me. I value the 2 hours of laundry that I do nothing but stare at the clear window of drying shirts and jeans. I enjoy the time to sit on a running washer and kick my legs back and forth. I just want to relax and kick back with the hum of the machines.
excuse me, sorry?
are those your dryer sheets?
can I use your soap?
So, you're sitting at home thinking about all that laundry you have to do. You put it all in the baskets and bags, and put it into the back seat of the car. You've got quarters and your new book. You are about to start your car. Wait! Do me a god-damned favor and stop. Stop and think. What else do you need? What are you missing? Soap, Detergent, El Washero Fluido. Grab it from your house or pick some up on the way, because if you ask me for some, I will snap. I know you don't want to buy the single serving of soap out of the vending machine for 12 bucks, but neither do I, that is why I brought soap with me. Luckily, some of the laundry mats in town now offer free soap. The last time someone asked me for soap, before I could start the rant, the woman with 11 loads said, "Ugh!, I hate that kind of soap!"
sneak, tug, roll away
is this one yours? just a sec!
five to one baskets
There are 20 people using 40 washers and dryers, taking up 13 tables. All the while, watching ONE TV and "sharing" FOUR rolling baskets. There is no better social experiment then watching 20 people watch something on TV they all hate, at the risk that someone else is enjoying the program. Listen ma'am, nobody likes the 700 Club, but you. So, if you manage to tear yourself away from Fox News to move your laundry from the washer to the dryer, now you will have to find a basket with wheels. No one wants to use their own flimsy plastic basket for this job, it sits on the floor for god's sake! You've had that thing since freshmen year, it is for getting the clothes to and from the laundry mat and for moving your kitchen shit from apartment to apartment, only. Now, if you find a basket that is not holding (or being held by) someone's coat, purse, and laundry stuff, you grab that thing and don't look back. Throw your clothes in it, ride it around, put a bike lock on it. Every once in a while we make mistakes. I asked a woman if she was using a "free" basket, she said "Not right this second, if you need it for a minute, I don't need it for 10 minutes." She let me "borrow" the basket, only for her to follow me to my washer and dryer and watch as if suddenly I was going to "David Copperfield" the basket out from under her and she would be left to fend for herself. After the last trip, "Are you done?" She then took the basket back to her spot in front of "Family Feud" and the latest Mary Higgins Clark trash, where it sat unused for 20 minutes.
fold the t-shirts, hang
the pants, ball the socks, buttons
zippers, pockets, pink!
The next time I do my laundry I'm turning the TV to the local access channel and using 2 baskets for myself.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
A Trivial Pursuit of the History of Violence of Bourbon
I'm not hip. I'm not really that up to date. That's 'cause I'm Old School. I like getting the boys together. I enjoy a cigar and a little bourbon. I enjoy the batting cages. I actually even enjoy some games...
I don't like playing cards. Games of luck and "skill" are not what makes a bulge in my shorts. I prefer any game that turns me into a pompus, irrational prick, mainly, Trivial Pursuit. Monopoly is OK, Poker is boring, I have never played chess, Risk takes a minimum of 2 years, Life is for little girls, Cranium is for newlyweds and their newlywed friends, Uno is for church camp, Yahtzee is what you play while writing a suicide note, and Pictionary is an acceptable reason for divorce. I like Scrabble and Scatagories...but...
...Trivial Pursuit.
Ooohh, Trivial Pursuit. (insert orgasm here) I'm not good at most things and my lifestyle is unacceptable to most, but I dominate at Trivial Pursuit. I'm loud, obnoxious, and violent when I play the game. Don't be surprised if when I come over to your house and you want to play, that I grab the back of your grandmother's head, kick you in the face, and break your sisters arm with my aggressive dominance. After years of small talk, Wikipedia, the History Channel, and just out-right-nerdery, I will have complete reign over your living room coffee table. I usually prefer some room for me to jump up suddenly, do a Tiger Woods celebration move and try to do a back flip off of your antique end table. I also like to keep my hands occupied with striking implements for hitting people's exposed thighs and your cat, if I haven't scared it away with my shrieks of joy and screams of pain. You want the big show? Add some bourbon to the situation. Even better? A bottle of Champagne to shake up and spray at you like I've just been drafted by the Calgary Stampeders. Heaven forbid we play the version that has a DVD, I might just "Elvis" your TV. Don't get me wrong, I might answer 20 straight questions right, then blow 30. Who knows? I just hope your neighbors are cool with having a emotionally driven trivia master prone to violence and tantrums rocking the shit out of you at 3 in the morning. Or getting rocked and sobbing uncontrollably. Wait! I can smoke my Cigar in your house?! Get the fire exstinguisher ready or cover your uncovered skin. I will set your house on fire, then hold you down, burning your face, just because I knew the difference between immigrant and emmigrant.
Make sure to invite me to your next game night.
I don't like playing cards. Games of luck and "skill" are not what makes a bulge in my shorts. I prefer any game that turns me into a pompus, irrational prick, mainly, Trivial Pursuit. Monopoly is OK, Poker is boring, I have never played chess, Risk takes a minimum of 2 years, Life is for little girls, Cranium is for newlyweds and their newlywed friends, Uno is for church camp, Yahtzee is what you play while writing a suicide note, and Pictionary is an acceptable reason for divorce. I like Scrabble and Scatagories...but...
...Trivial Pursuit.
Ooohh, Trivial Pursuit. (insert orgasm here) I'm not good at most things and my lifestyle is unacceptable to most, but I dominate at Trivial Pursuit. I'm loud, obnoxious, and violent when I play the game. Don't be surprised if when I come over to your house and you want to play, that I grab the back of your grandmother's head, kick you in the face, and break your sisters arm with my aggressive dominance. After years of small talk, Wikipedia, the History Channel, and just out-right-nerdery, I will have complete reign over your living room coffee table. I usually prefer some room for me to jump up suddenly, do a Tiger Woods celebration move and try to do a back flip off of your antique end table. I also like to keep my hands occupied with striking implements for hitting people's exposed thighs and your cat, if I haven't scared it away with my shrieks of joy and screams of pain. You want the big show? Add some bourbon to the situation. Even better? A bottle of Champagne to shake up and spray at you like I've just been drafted by the Calgary Stampeders. Heaven forbid we play the version that has a DVD, I might just "Elvis" your TV. Don't get me wrong, I might answer 20 straight questions right, then blow 30. Who knows? I just hope your neighbors are cool with having a emotionally driven trivia master prone to violence and tantrums rocking the shit out of you at 3 in the morning. Or getting rocked and sobbing uncontrollably. Wait! I can smoke my Cigar in your house?! Get the fire exstinguisher ready or cover your uncovered skin. I will set your house on fire, then hold you down, burning your face, just because I knew the difference between immigrant and emmigrant.
Make sure to invite me to your next game night.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Bus Trip/Absinthe
Because I wanted to go see a cute girl in Bozeman and I'm running out of Blog material...I took a Greyhound Bus Trip!
With the current gas prices, I found out that it is actually cheaper for me to take the Greyhound then it is to take the "Millennium Turtle". So I got online and bought myself a round trip ticket to Bozeman from Missoula. I've been on the bus plenty and I know what to expect.
1. Bored, loud children
2. Someone will freak out or make a scene
3. Someone will want to talk to me
I wasn't on the bus 15 minutes before a 20 something girl with bruises sat down next to me and asked, "Do you like Jeff Foxworthy and Larry the Cable Guy?" Believe it or not...I'm not an asshole right away. I got 5 or so hours to be trapped in this aluminum, tinted window hell and I don't need someone trying to stab me while I sleep with my head pinned between the window and the seat. I reply, "Sure, it's not really my thing, but it's kinda funny." According to the clock on my phone, she recited bits and pieces of "redneck" humor for over half an hour. From Bearmouth to Drummond. To move her away from the subject of the "Blue Collar Comedy Tour" I asked her where she is headed. In one breath, rehearsed from saying it to 100 people over the last 1000 miles....
"I'm on Parole and I'm heading back to Wichita to pick up my kids from my Mom's house, where they lived for the last 2 years 'cause I was in jail for stabbin' my ex-husband with a big ol' knife."
"No shit?" I even asked her to repeat it so I could write it down.
"Can I use your iPod?"
**********************************************************
Next. Absinthe has been made legal in the US for the first time since 1915. Now, I'm not a drug person. I drink too much and then I steal a drag off of someone's cigarette, but that is it. During the years of 2004 and 2005 I smoked pot 12 times and I hated it 11 times. Nothing else. There is way to much crazy shit going on in my head to add a reaction from a drug. I already have issues with reality.
but...
Absinthe.
The "green fairy" and I get along nicely.
Remember, End of the Year Giftgiving is right around the corner...
With the current gas prices, I found out that it is actually cheaper for me to take the Greyhound then it is to take the "Millennium Turtle". So I got online and bought myself a round trip ticket to Bozeman from Missoula. I've been on the bus plenty and I know what to expect.
1. Bored, loud children
2. Someone will freak out or make a scene
3. Someone will want to talk to me
I wasn't on the bus 15 minutes before a 20 something girl with bruises sat down next to me and asked, "Do you like Jeff Foxworthy and Larry the Cable Guy?" Believe it or not...I'm not an asshole right away. I got 5 or so hours to be trapped in this aluminum, tinted window hell and I don't need someone trying to stab me while I sleep with my head pinned between the window and the seat. I reply, "Sure, it's not really my thing, but it's kinda funny." According to the clock on my phone, she recited bits and pieces of "redneck" humor for over half an hour. From Bearmouth to Drummond. To move her away from the subject of the "Blue Collar Comedy Tour" I asked her where she is headed. In one breath, rehearsed from saying it to 100 people over the last 1000 miles....
"I'm on Parole and I'm heading back to Wichita to pick up my kids from my Mom's house, where they lived for the last 2 years 'cause I was in jail for stabbin' my ex-husband with a big ol' knife."
"No shit?" I even asked her to repeat it so I could write it down.
"Can I use your iPod?"
**********************************************************
Next. Absinthe has been made legal in the US for the first time since 1915. Now, I'm not a drug person. I drink too much and then I steal a drag off of someone's cigarette, but that is it. During the years of 2004 and 2005 I smoked pot 12 times and I hated it 11 times. Nothing else. There is way to much crazy shit going on in my head to add a reaction from a drug. I already have issues with reality.
but...
Absinthe.
The "green fairy" and I get along nicely.
Remember, End of the Year Giftgiving is right around the corner...
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
I'm a Silly Lazy Bitch
If you would've asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up when I was 7 years old, I would have answered, barber/drummer/pizza delivery guy. 15 years old, forest ranger/drummer/bartender. 18 years old, music teacher/drummer/writer. 23, drummer/radio DJ/barista. Now that I'm almost 26 I can tell you what I really want to be...Drummer/Housewife.
I make a great living with this whole bar musician thing and wish it would be much more and I'm very thankful for the career, but it is the service industry/food and beverage thing I want to stop. I have dated plenty of girls that are lost in the hopeless search for a career and have settled on the idea of a "man" to "handle" the "financial burden". That is 500 years of the "man of the house" bullshit that I'm up against. Recently I've discovered females that are more then willing to accept a 50/50 "dutch" way of living. That's great. That is fine. But, fuck that noise. I want a smart, balls to the wall, career minded woman that is willing to let me do the dishes, wash the laundry, cook the dinners, scrub the toilet, and play lots of gigs. (notice how I stuck that last bit in there? let me explain...) Think of a "man" with a job(s) and goals. He wants his new wife to stay at home and handle the "womanly" type things, while he throws money at her hobbies to make sure she feels some fulfillment in her little "extra bedroom of a life". THAT'S WHAT I WANT! Plus, you never know, the music thing might pay off and then we'll have even more money! As my life stands right now, I have only one real plan...win the lottery. Call it a 401K or a salary, but that is it, and most of the time I forget to even buy the ticket. I have zero money in savings and I only work in the service industry just enough to cover what playing music doesn't.
Keep in mind, I'm not looking for a "stay at home dad" title. NO kids. "Stay at home drummer." I would be so proud of my little home with the picket fence and mowed lawn. I'm already obsessed with a clean house (read my blog about cleaning) I could continue my Netflix obsession and play tons of shows and not worry about pesky little things like "Rent", "Debt", or "Doctors".
Put me in an apron and call me Suzy...I'm ready.
I make a great living with this whole bar musician thing and wish it would be much more and I'm very thankful for the career, but it is the service industry/food and beverage thing I want to stop. I have dated plenty of girls that are lost in the hopeless search for a career and have settled on the idea of a "man" to "handle" the "financial burden". That is 500 years of the "man of the house" bullshit that I'm up against. Recently I've discovered females that are more then willing to accept a 50/50 "dutch" way of living. That's great. That is fine. But, fuck that noise. I want a smart, balls to the wall, career minded woman that is willing to let me do the dishes, wash the laundry, cook the dinners, scrub the toilet, and play lots of gigs. (notice how I stuck that last bit in there? let me explain...) Think of a "man" with a job(s) and goals. He wants his new wife to stay at home and handle the "womanly" type things, while he throws money at her hobbies to make sure she feels some fulfillment in her little "extra bedroom of a life". THAT'S WHAT I WANT! Plus, you never know, the music thing might pay off and then we'll have even more money! As my life stands right now, I have only one real plan...win the lottery. Call it a 401K or a salary, but that is it, and most of the time I forget to even buy the ticket. I have zero money in savings and I only work in the service industry just enough to cover what playing music doesn't.
Keep in mind, I'm not looking for a "stay at home dad" title. NO kids. "Stay at home drummer." I would be so proud of my little home with the picket fence and mowed lawn. I'm already obsessed with a clean house (read my blog about cleaning) I could continue my Netflix obsession and play tons of shows and not worry about pesky little things like "Rent", "Debt", or "Doctors".
Put me in an apron and call me Suzy...I'm ready.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
