slap back saturday sixer?

i had a plan for today – to rerun the bit that ran on ten years ago today…

…but the great server crash of 2008 that wiped out everything before march of 2008 makes that difficult. i have a disc kramer gave me that has everything up to september 2003, but that doesn’t help. i have a jump drive somewhere around here that has a bunch of bits, but they’re in no particular order so that would kinda suck.

so, instead i decided to go five years. but since five years ago we were on even days with this “every other days a new bit goes up” thing i could either do the fourteenth or the sixteenth. and since the latter was a sixer, i decided to go with the less lazy of the lazy rerun bits, so here we are…
old guy sixer
October 16, 2011 sean M

sue me, some days i feel older than others…

…and this is one of the older ones. i’ve got the midlife crisis mobile, a good midlife crisis trip planned, and, well, that’s it…

…don’t know if i have the actual “crisis”, but at least all the factors are in place.

blame it on the random aches and pains in the gym when i try to do what i once could do, or the weather, or odd joint pain that seems to be weather-inspired, but lately i just feel…well…old. and here are six revelations that didn’t help:

1. the mohawk – granted i wasn’t around when this was first seen several hundred years ago…that was more like kramer’s sophomore year. but i remember when it came back around in the 1980’s. it was a symbol of punk rebellion. it came back recently, but is now just the symbol of douche baggery. sure, SOME punk alternative types still rock it (see half the staff of our burnet shop when it gets hot out), but overall – yeah. kinda like the affliction/ed hardy shit. most who wear it are assholes, some are not (me, for example…despite the ringtone shane has for me)

2. no cash? no grass? no ass? no free ride! – there was a thing that made the facebook laps recently…”ten years ago we had johnny cash, bob hope, and steve jobs…no we have no cash, no hope, and no jobs!”. truth – and i can even remember when nobody knew steve jobs. the other two pre-date me.

3. wait – you’re HOW old? (part i) – the other day i was at a logan’s roadhouse in round rock, texas (post-workout, which makes the booze and fried food okay, right?) and i saw this sign over the bar:

(the pics from astrowhore didn’t port over when we came here, but i would guess this was a pic of the sign saying that in 2011 you had to be born on that date in 1990 to drink…)

which considering i graduated high school in june of 1989 means that drunken mistakes for some i graduated with are now old enough to drink. spooky.

4. wait – you’re HOW old? (part ii) – but when i was looking at that sign (and taking the pic for this bit) i looked down and realized i was wearing this shirt at the time:

(again, no pic – but i’ll assume it was one of three shirst purchased at the depeche mode world violation tour, which was in dallas within weeeks of my birthday, which was why i had the money for tons of merch – still pissed at kathi for taking one of them)

which was purchased, by me, at the depeche mode show in dallas – and apparently is now old enough to drink. when you have concert shirts you can still wear that can order their own booze…

(yes, shane, this one was inspired by your aversion to fucking girls younger than some of your tattoos – i waited till 23, so girls that young are still illegal for me.) but speaking of…

5. math is sometimes NOT your friend – midway i was through my final session on my latest tattoo i realized that six months after the state of texas issued me a drivers license the artist completing said masterpiece had them issue her birth certificate. hey, at least the ink looks good…

(the picture came out blurry – the colors and detail on my dia de los muerte gas mask are pretty amazing)

(so, this one i can produce five years later since tattoos are forever and shit…even though the pic is still blurry because taking a pic of the inside of your own bicep kinda sucks)


6. some will be upset that after three pics in a row i don’t put one here – i can’t go to strip clubs anymore. it’s not a money thing. it’s not a jealous wife or girlfriend issue. it’s an “i feel lecherous” issue. most dancers (they prefer that term to strippers) are just so fucking young i KNOW i could be their daddy…literally. i’ve finally reached the age where that kinda creeps me out a little bit. i guess this is how it ends, huh?

1 comment… add one
  • Kramer Oct 17, 2016 @ 16:07

    It’s suppose to end in a strip club?

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