i gotta start selling cars…

i guess it’s all in my delivery, but for some reason those who don’t know me (and quite a few of those who do) will take just about anything i say seriously if i do it in the right tone of voice. i think i honed this skill after high school when i asked a girl to my senior prom, she said, “sure”, and two days later was all in la-la land ’cause this guy chuck asked her to the prom. when i said, “hey; i thought you were going with me”, she replied, “oh, sean…you were serious?” guess sometimes i joke around too much for my own good (and ended up skipping my own prom as a result of it), so i learned how to sound serious when i have to; or when it will make those i deal with more entertaining to me…
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astrowhore day

if you like to snack on spinach squares and lemon cactus soda, you should have been with me sunday afternoon. of course, if you prefer to snack on an oreo that had just been used to scrape chocolate sauce and whipped cream off a set of 38DDs that have appeared in hustler magazine on more than one occasion, you should have been with me sunday night. what can i say? i DID remember the sabbath, but i turned it into an astrowhore day instead of keeping it holy. i am SO going to hell for that one, huh? (like that’s new news) and only one week before easter!!!
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half a car in wheels, but twice the points!!!

okay, so before you skip ahead on this one (like each and every one of you doesn’t hang on my EVERY word, right? stroke the ego…stoke the ego…hey wait…that’s not my ego…damn cinemax…but i digress) know that i own a mountain bike, and am currently piecing together the 20″ bike of my teenage dreams with modern components slowly but surely (i’m immature like that sometimes); the bottom line is, i’m a bike (as in bicycles…but motorcycles, too…the latter of which has nothing to do with this piece, however) kinda guy. but you know what the difference between me and a lot of the morons out there is? when i’m on my bike, i’m on a BIKE.
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yeah, what she said

so, doesn’t it figure that the one entry y’all make comments on is the one i put up here to tell you that it was now possible to comment on ANY entry? and the comments weren’t even ABOUT the entry..my “sister” kathi has been wanting a place to vent about airline hassles, which i am SO cool with. then people started commenting on HER comment. all the better. but since i DO kinda write this shit, i figured i should throw in my last airline experience….
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ya get what ya pay for…

so, i survived last night’s drunken brain cell slaughter; TRIED to write something for y’all while mid-intox, but i couldn’t type, couldn’t focus, and i think used up all the creative rambling i had on the two hour and some change phone call that kept me company through most of it (although putting up with me in that condition for that long qualifies this person for sainthood in some sects…at the very least lunch…PLUS, it was long distance, so i don’t know if THAT was getting what was paid for, but i digress)
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late nite service

so, last night i drove up to dallas to see rob zombie. GREAT show, and i’ve got that post-show tunnel hearing working right now, which kinda sucks. add to that the fact that i drove to dallas and BACK the same night, just two days after i drove back and forth from tulsa in 48 hours, so i still hadn’t caught up from that as far as energy levels are concerned, and i’m feeling a bit tired. you know you’re old (or worn out) when it’s 7:30, you have a couple of invitations out there for plans tonight, you’re mere feet from your bed (which is unfortunately naked woman-less) and you’re still thinking, “hmmmm…tempting”.
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my history

so, today i go to grab lunch and get pounced. not in that happy, fun way. not in that, “give me your wallet” way. almost as bad, though. “dude, where ya goin’? lemme toss in..” so all of a sudden, i’m walking out of the office with a fist full of cash, and coming back carrying one SERIOUSLY heavy bag. for three blocks. kinda reminded me of those sacks of tobacco from my childhood…
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weekend memories

so, it’s 8:00 am sunday morning, the morning AFTER the mardi gras experience described in kramer’s web journal (i didn’t get to sleep ’till about 4:30 or so), and the phone rings. i look at caller i.d., blurry-eyed, and see a dallas phone number. figuring it’s my boss (at the time en route back to austin from OKC), or a buddy in dallas wanting to see how much i can cuss in the early am when he wakes me up, i answer it…
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wtf, sean