so, i DID do an entry for thursday.
[continue reading…]

i was in the shower this morning (some of you might not want to visualize on that one) when it happened…and it WASN’T pretty.

“i am the voice inside your head (and i control you)”

that’s a line out of the nine inch nails song, mr. self destruct. but that wasn’t the song that was stuck in my head. oh no, no, no…this was same genre, even from the same era played on the same alternative radio stations. but NOT as cool a song. not from a band that still fills stadiums. or even clubs. hell, i doubt they’re ever still together, let alone tour. the band in question is the presidents of the united states of america. and the song is “peaches”.

“millions of peaches…peaches for me. millions of peaches. peaches for free. LOOK OUT!!!”

FUCK!!!

why is it that the LAMEST fucking songs are the ones that wander into our skull and think, “i believe i’ll set up camp HERE”. damn, that sucks. it’s never koRn or hendrix (unless, i supposed, you don’t LIKE koRn or hendrix; then that’s probably what you’re stuck with). and what was worse was when i THOUGHT i had found my kindred spirit for the day. someone who shared my pain (well, at least THIS pain). someone who could relate. i had gone out to the backyard and was in the office of one of the promoters and she said, “you know…ever since this morning i have had the most ANNOYING song stuck in my head….” “YES!!!!”, i practically screamed. “me, too. the president’s damn “peaches” song. what’s yours?” she said she didn’t remember. but then, like SO many a female before her (and undoubtedly countless ones after) she had to make the pain WORSE and say, “well at least it wasn’t that ‘lump’ song. you know the one *she begins to sing* ‘she’s lump…she’s lump…she’s in my head’. so, it could be worse, right?” yeah, sally. could, and now IS. thanks to you. the whole rest of the damn afternoon…”she’s lump…she’s lump…..”

AAAAGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

just like that damn vh1 show, one hit wonders….”get them stuck in your head all over again” is their slogan. but the one’s that tend to REALLY get stuck in our head always have five things in common:

1. it’s never a song or an artist you like or would even own.
2. it’s always something you had to hear on the radio WAY too much, proving my pseudo-chosen profession (at least what my degree is in) is one evil-assed job.
3. the only thing that gets rid of it is hearing the track IN IT’S ENTIRETY. or drugs or booze.
4. you can never remember more than about 45% of the words.
5. the hidden blessing: the same one never seems to get stuck twice.

then i come home, try to relax, and see something on tv that hopefully WILL get stuck in my head…the sight of a VERY trashed anna nicole smith in a crop top and stretch pants stumbling through las vegas shopping, drinking, and partying at a strip club. why? ’cause if THAT doesn’t inspire you to lose weight and get fit and workout NOTHING will. you KNOW it’s ugly when it’s surrounded by blonde, tanned, vegas-stripping ass and you STILL can’t bare to look. so now, it’s time to get personal.

anna, given the fact that my site contains some key words in the url that i KNOW your people must google search for often (like “whore”, “texas”, and “white trash”) i’ll trust SOMEBODY in your camp reads this at least occasionally. so i have a message from you. from one loud-mouthed texan to another. and it’s a quote from animal house (slightly paraphrased for you) that i feel you REALLY need to hear:

(and most of you already know what you’re about to read, don’t you?)

“fat, drunk, and stupid is NO way to go through life, dear…”

there. does that count as community service?

…and a few of you still need to throw a vote down on the pube poll 2k2. i’ll be running it till oct 1st, then we’ll tally. assuming there’s more than a few of you out there, of course.

Replies: 1 Comment

“that’s why it’s easy….easy like sunday morning”

you’re the bastard that made me download that song!

josh said @ 09/25/2002 04:55 AM GMT

“out on the road today i saw a deadhead sticker on a cadillac; a little voice inside my head said, ‘damn, i HATE old people with shitty-ass taste in music'” – me, NOT don henley, first weekend of fall, 2k2

i think sunday i hit an all time low. not in perversion (that has yet to happen, and we won’t go into that now) and not in allowing my humor to sink on the low-brow level (’cause i know i have YET to hit bottom on that one yet, too). no, this was an all time low in something we ALL have an “all-time” low story on.

restaurant service.

okay, i suppose that the chinese place that used to be in the building i was looking at from the table on the grin’s deck would be THE all-time low. that was the place where the waitress took our drink order, went in the kitchen to get it, got in a fight with management, and walked. without EVER bringing us our drinks (melanie, a girl at our table, finally went and retrieved them out of the kitchen without anyone in the staff batting an eye) and then we sat for THIRTY MINUTES before a manager noticed a group of TEN people in the middle of the dining area with NO food. she came up, told us our waitress had been “let go”, took our order, and we had food within minutes. we were then charged FULL PRICE. needless to say, these folks aren’t around any more.

typically, i like grin’s. good food, good people. been around a while, and it always brings back fond memories of past dining experiences there going back to college for me. but yesterday? WHOLE different story. i knew something would be up when we showed up and were told there would be a wait of about ten minutes, even though we had already waited about five for them to tell us AND we could clearly see that the joint was only about half full. it was more like fifteen for the patio, and on a day like yesterday, i was NOT gonna eat indoors. we finally get seated, get our drink order in immediately, and then get our drinks…but not the chips and queso we ordered. that took QUITE a while. and our waitress kept coming out on the patio and doing that “look around and make sure everyone’s cool” glance WITHOUT glancing our way OR bringing us our chips and queso.

when it FINALLY arrived (must have been made out of some rare, imported cheese they were waiting to clear customs) our order was placed and we sat. a while. a LONG while. don’t get me wrong, this provides ample conversation time, which i am all about. but i was also REALLY fucking hungry. seventeen days later, when the entrees hit the table (after MUCH tree shrapnel preceded it, i might add, but so it goes in the great outdoors) the chicken chipolte came with NO silverware and the burger and fries combo came with NO fries. this was pointed out, and fries were brought out five minutes later with ketchup, and STILL no silverware. “need anything else?”, we were asked, so we repeated our original request with a blank look across our waitresses face like she had NEVER heard of that before. we ate, we left.

she is blonde. she wears flip-flops to work. her name is kay. avoid her like the plague, unless you have a LOT of time on your hands. my bill was $22.65. i paid an even $23. and i STILL feel like i over-tipped.

before any of you who waitress on occasion (sin D, i’m looking in your direction) jump down my throat, realize this was SO bad, with SO few people in her section that i almost feel like there should be a 15% BAD service standard, where if it really sucks you pay NO tip and get 15% DEDUCTED off the bill. i understand that waitstaff gets paid pure shit, and that tips make or break you…literally. i also understand that some places won’t even pay you the $2.83 base salary if your tips hit minimum wage on a per hour basis. but i also feel that a tip is SOMEWHAT earned. hell, on the other end, i’ve tipped forty or fifty percent when the service kicks ass, so it all balances. i just don’t feel a gratuity is required, but maybe that’s just me. you get what you pay for in this world, but tipping is your one oppurunity to pay for what you get. or NOT pay for what you DON’T get.

then it was off for drinks with kramer after driving into austin for a mini (one hour) work day. and then THIS happens…

i’m sitting there telling a joke to kramer (go figure). mid-way through, my comedic timing is SLAUGHTERED by the intrusion of a ringing cell phone. i pick up the phone, and without even glancing at the caller i.d. say, “motherfucker i’m in the middle of a joke you just screwed up so make this REALLY good…” “who is this?”, i hear in reply. “who is this?!?”, i repeat back, “i didn’t call YOU, dumb-ass, don’t call and ask me that. i was mid-joke. i’m out with my buddy. i’m having some drinks, having some laughs, and you electronically intrude just to ask me who the fuck i am? who the fuck are you? who the fuck do you THINK i am?” “i’m charles, ” the voice on the other end says, “and i was looking for my wife, mary…did i dial the wrong number or something?” i look at the table next to me to see one SERIOUSLY pissed off older blonde woman holding out her hand, and it suddenly occurs to me that i left MY phone in the car since i hate phones going off in restaurants. i hand her her phone i snatched off her near-by table without thinking and turn back towards kramer. “think this gonna be my last round for the evening” i say, with k-mad, the waitress, and “mary” in full agreement. and to think, it’s not even MONDAY yet…

oh yeah, and don’t forget to toss your vote in on pube poll 2k2.

Replies: 4 Comments

i have the chicken dance song stuck in my head. tip me.

??? said @ 09/24/2002 07:28 PM GMT

Hell if you do 40-50% tips on good service I might just go back to Olive Garden after all 🙂 We only get $2.15 an hour base pay though so let me know where they get @.85 so I can make more while I wait for you to show up

Angel said @ 09/24/2002 05:18 AM GMT

Did I tell you that we changed our uniforms at the restaurant? Tips come easy to me now. All I have to do is lean over a table of men and my money is made for the night!

Service, schmervice: Cleavage is the ticket!

sin D said @ 09/23/2002 06:17 PM GMT

Hell yeah, tips are earned. Always. Shitty service = no tip, no repeat business. simple as that.

topenga said @ 09/23/2002 03:48 PM GMT

so, how do you like the hair down there? i wanna know what my readers think on this (and to prove to myself i actually have more than three or four). rate your preferred level of bushiness, 1 to 10…1 being bald as dr. evil’s pet kitty, 10 being hairier than fat bastard’s back…and let me know if you mean it for guys or girls…vote for both, if you so choose…i just wanna get an average here. plan on running this till the end of the month, so vote away!

Replies: 4 Comments

4 or less for girls, don’t do guys….

fem said @ 09/28/2002 02:46 AM GMT

Mare and i were gonna respond but not after dreadkramer…phhhhttttt

Linda leaving Alaska said @ 09/25/2002 03:25 AM GMT

On my guys I like it to be in between..not too much..but not bald..so a 5 for guys..and my girls..I like it bald..so a 1 for my girls..

The Horny Ladybug said @ 09/24/2002 06:51 AM GMT

Dreads baby. Should hang down to their knees. that would be 10 for the girls.

Just call me “Mr. Natural”

dread Kramer said @ 09/23/2002 02:35 PM GMT

so, here was the deal…after a stressful week, with plenty of technical nightmares at work, and sleep problems due to dental issues and mental issues and basically as many different kinds of issues as one would find in the periodicals rack of a barnes & noble, i needed some relief. and the best kind of relief comes in one of three ways for me:
[continue reading…]

there was a show a few years back starring harry anderson (of night court fame) called dave’s world. in it, he played a character loosely based on newspaper columnist (and writer of the show) dave barry. as things would unfold in his day to day existence, you would here his voice narrating the scene as it would later appear in his column. so here’s MY problem. i do that now too. ALL the damn time. everything in my world comes down to one simple theme in my brain…

“how will this look on the whore? what will my angle be?”

sad, huh? ’cause dave barry gets PAID for his shit. see that “.org” at the end of my url? i DON’T.

it even creeps into my subconscious when i’m high…which today would be at dr. burton’s, where they had to novacaine me up THREE times before they could work on some molars, and i could STILL feel it. but i said, “fuck it…i can take it. keep going”. they gave me a ‘script for vicatin just in case. i’m saving THAT for a weekend recreational thing. but even when i was novacained and nitroused to hell (and i REALLY freaked him out…i made him SHOW me the needle. he said, “you DON’T want to see it”, and i said, “dr. burton…i have more piercings and tattoos than all four of your sons COMBINED. i’m NOT scared of needles….SHOW ME THE NEEDLE!!!” (jerry mcguire flashback, right?) he did. that thing is pretty fucking big. he even showed me with his finger how much of it goes into your gum. pretty fucking much. and after three hits of THAT, i was still feeling it? it was just FATE that i was still feeling it), i was thinking…what kind of whore bit can i get out of this? and then it hit me….pain.

not that i was FEELING pain at the time. far from. i could barely feel a DAMN thing. but i noticed that if anything TOUCHED me, like when his elbow would hit my chest or something, it would ECHO. like i could see his hand away from me, but i could still feel it over and over again…which i why i tend to keep my eyes shut. it helps keep up the illusion. but then i realized…if the slightest brush feels like THAT, picture how it REALLY feels in your mouth when it hurts. when you actually FEEL the pain. your whole central nervous system is more stoned than cheech & chong’s personal weed tester, and now you feel PAIN? even if it’s only slight, imagine how bad it REALLY is.

i was thinking about it…if i can feel the slightest touch times fifty on my chest (where there’s NO novacaine) the fact that i can feel pain in my teeth (after just as much gas and three shots of the good stuff) must mean i am in EXTREME pain right now, i’m just too doped up to care…

good.

then you know what goes through my head? seriously? school house rock jingles. remember those from when we were kids? same cartoon songs, but looped and sampled over drum and bass beats…not that i’ve EVER heard them that way, it’s just what goes through my head. that, and how to turn my interpretation of dental masking of pain into a good bit for you people to read. when i’m in blinding pain, i think of all of you. what does that say?

now, how many of you want me to drop some vicatin and write a REALLY interesting piece on here this weekend?

Replies: 2 Comments

Hey, if it makes you feel more international….I’m not from Texas, I’ve never been to Texas. I found you through Astrofish (who I discovered then lost on Astronet, then found again).

I like your writing. I log on everyday for a laugh and for a little insight. I got my passport last year so maybe I’ll make it to Texas one of these days….(that last bit was more for Bubba-Kramer than for you – I don’t know where you stand on the kingdom of Texas…)

samgirlLA said @ 09/20/2002 07:48 PM GMT

I’m just a bill, yes, I’m only a bill… and I’m sittin’ here on Capitol Hill…..Conjunction Junction, What’s your function? Hookin’ up words and phrases and clauses……

Ahh… memories! I found you a couple of months ago and you’re my daily dose of fun! Thanks! I lived in Texas for 10 years (Waco for 4 and DFW for almost 6 )and am really missing it now. So, now I read you to keep up with TortillaVille. Hope your Friday is great!

As far as the Vicoden…. I’d much rather have the Nitrous!

MC said @ 09/20/2002 01:32 PM GMT

09/19/2002: “reason # 1,689 why i WILL go to hell”

it was wednesday at lunch. i was working all by my lonesome out of our downtown office when it happened. i had gone to lunch at schlotzsky’s deli on 6th and congress when an old feeling from my teenage years came back…the feeling of a rubber tire rubbing the back of my calf…just like the old bmx days, ya know? even came with the “sorry, bro…” apology. i turned to say it was okay, and it was a guy in a wheel chair.

no big deal. until i looked up.

there were TEN of them.

yep…TEN. in all colors, and ages, and shapes (the chairs AND their occupants, i mean). they swarmed into the joint like a group of bandito’s into a rural town’s sirloin stockade. all of a sudden, there was a rolling line of five at each register, and that took up the ENTIRE lobby area where you order. i don’t know why i found this odd, but i did. they were like a gang. “o.c.” – the ORIGINAL crips. i am SO going to hell for that one, aren’t i?

they were organized, too. two of them handed off their orders and went to prep the chow zone…rolling around with that electric hum, circling the dining area like motorized vultures as they shoved and bumped tables into tables to create one super-duper-handi-table.

the funniest look was from the samaritan kid that helped me. he had JUST rang me up, when the first one, who rolled in solo (i guess he was the “scout”) came up and asked if they had sandwiches. at schlotzsky’s. go figure. he then said he liked his COLD. “no problem”, the kid replied, and asked if he liked turkey. when he got a positive response, the kid went out from behind their counter to their deli case and retrieved one for him to save him the trip. “thanks”, the guy replied, paid, and gave this nod towards the door. THAT’S when it flew open and they all rolled in, most of them heading his way. an “oh shit” look crossed his face as he realized his courteous gesture would need to be repeated. a LOT.

i only wonder…if they ARE some sort of gang, what is their initiation like?

a recent comment post from josh got me thinking about a stop we made in killeen. the place was called guns galore. and the name of the joint FIT. but the comment got me thinking about gun shops in general. does it really GET any more “manly” than gun shops? i only put the term in quotes because, in my opinion, it’s not the true definition of the term. but in the generic, stereotypical sense? oh yeah, game on.

my first experience of this was when the brady bill came out. i was with my friend lance as HE was shopping for a new pistol for work (relax…he’s a cop). while he was browsing about, this guy behind the counter was going off on how his second amendment rights were now being stepped all over ’cause you could no longer buy guns with a mag capacity of over ten rounds. “what the FUCK?”, he said. “so, if i have a NEWER gun with only ten rounds, and ‘he’ (whoever ‘he’ may be) has one with the older, fifteen round version, i’m up shit creek!!!”.

actually, from where i’m standing, if you’re in a position where the ammo capacity is a survival issue in your world, you’re ALREADY up shit creek. and in the rapids section. for that matter, if you can’t “do what you got to do” in ten rounds or less, than you really don’t need a bigger magazine…you need to take a firearms course and learn to AIM.

takes me back to that day with lance…i was looking at shotguns, and this guy comes up and hands me one. “check THIS shit out…”, he purrs, obviously already aroused by what he’s about to say, “mossberg…twelve gauge…pistol grip, pump-action, police issue (he pauses to wipe his chin) barrel shroud so it never gets too hot to hold, and a shell capacity of eight on deck, one in the chamber…” he excuses himself to go squeeze off a few rounds in private (leaving the gun behind, just so y’all know how that was meant) and i just look at it. when he returns to me he adds, “and that eight rounds CAN be increased to ten, if need be”.

“if need be”? if you have the “need” for more than eight rounds of shotgun ammo, you NEED to watch who you piss off. and take more friends along when you do. if anyone’s stupid enough to hang with your “i give the finger to bikers for giggles” ass. but you know how i know that none of these arguments for bigger, harder, faster guns that can shoot through SUVs and such hold any water? ’cause there’s one thing you hardly ever, EVER see in a gun shop…

WOMEN

because a woman will look at mossberg boy stroking the barrel (of the shotgun, that is…just to clarify) and think to herself “how small IS it, anyway?”. and in this case, i think she might be right. gun shops are basically a freudian field day waiting to happen (bring a lunch!!!). and they all hide under the “blanket” of the second amendment. the one that includes the phrase “the right to keep and bare arms shall not be infringed”. but that’s only PART of it. that’s selective interpretation. that’s like saying one of the commandments is pro-murder because it says “thou shalt…kill”, leaving out the “not” part.

it includes the phrase “in order to maintain a well regulated militia, the right to keep and bare…”. we have a well regulated militia. it’s called the national guard. and the army. and the marines. etc. etc. etc. this was written when it was still basically every state for itself, and BEFORE the army national guard was established in each state. plus, is IS supposed to be we regulated. that means they (they being our somewhat elected officials) have the right to say that you DON’T need armor-piercing, poison-tipped, explode-on-impact fourty-five caliber shells to hunt DEER. you DON’T. get over it. until bambi starts to shoot back.

and speaking of bambi, to all you strippers out there who took THAT stage name, you DO know bambi was a DUDE, right? remember, in the movie, he falls for a FEMALE deer, and has all male friends? do you think the guys at disney were THAT forward thinking in their support of lesbian culture? i’ll admit, it’s not the most masculine guy name, but it WAS a guy. and once again, i digress…

where was i?

oh yeah…stay outta my booze.

don’t ask me why, but for some reason whenever my company has it’s annual trip to schlitterbahn, it rains. now, since most companies don’t even TAKE an annual trip to schlitterbahn, i guess i can’t REALLY complain. but it DOES always seem to rain. saturday was gorgeous. i was wandering san marcos for the bulk of the afternoon sweating my ass off and thinking of how pretty der bahn would be on sunday. not so much the case.

i WAS gonna get up early on sunday and mow the grass. i still got up early, i just didn’t get to do any yard work, because of the rain. “oh, this’ll blow over…” i thought to myself. well, it’s now monday, just a pube hair past noon, and i’m STILL waiting for this to blow over.

the trip was still a blast, though…yeah, it was rainy, and yeah it was cold (although not so much in the hot tub…QUITE warm there). but there were NO lines, and so you could ride the rides you usually have to wait two hours to get on in under ten minutes INCLUDING the fourteen story stair climb. having an attractive, curvy date/guide that has been to the park every summer since the dawning of time helps, so you can find your way around. of course, if you’re female you might want yours a little less curvy. but then again, you might not…

we went on the “blastenhoff”? whatever one actually shoots you uphill in the water…and shoots GALLONS of water up your ass in the process. kinda reminded me of that one time…at band camp. well, never mind that now. then came “black knight”…a completely dark water slide. that is TOO damn fun…several tube shoots and body slides and freezing tram rides later and we were tossed out of the hot tub. not for lude conduct or anything…’cause it was six and time for the park to close for the season. if ANYBODY needed to be tossed for conduct, it was the drunk motherfuckers at the bar.

you know one of the CLASSIC signs that you drink too much? when you’re level of intoxication gets you cut off and removed from a HOT TUB. or when you fall off the bar stool face first into the hot tub, cigarette still dangling from your lips. we saw both. all the more fun to watch when you’re sober…but that last part changed with dinner. ah, mamacita’s…why must you pour them so mean? why? ’cause i wouldn’t want it any other way after a rainy day at the ‘bahn. now that’s a moist tradition worth re-living over and over again.

Replies: 3 Comments

speaking of which, i’ve decided that now instead of the yeah yeah yeahs, i’d like the white stripes second album “de stilj”. yeah.

josh said @ 09/17/2002 03:35 AM GMT

your WHAT? did i promise you a subscription? does your wife know about this? don’t feel bad…josh is still waiting on his cd from when he guessed the number i found in my car…or closest to it.

sean said @ 09/16/2002 06:43 PM GMT

you have got to be the only person that bitches about being wet at a waterpark. And dont say anything about “at least i’ll go” I dont want to hear it. By the way Im still waiting for my maxim subscription. Jackass

JAB said @ 09/16/2002 05:42 PM GMT

saturday – the day was spent running all over san marcos; the night working a show with folks that couldn’t run if they tried…and try they did. after a nice fun afternoon all over sm, it was time to pay the fiddler and actually work. with a fiddler. and a slide guitar player. and god help us, yodeling people. yes, the ray price show…attended by people who have followed ray since day one. literally. i don’t just mean day one of his career, i mean the original DAY ONE. ’cause these folks were THAT old.

in checking i.d.’s for will call, i didn’t see more than TWO where the birthday was AFTER 1960. these people killed the bar staff ’cause they NEVER touched the hard stuff, only beer and wine. and almost more of the latter than the former. plus, the concessions did next to NO sales (as evident by the fact they actually charged me, full price i might add, for my brisket sandwich) but i blame that on the fact that most of these folks can’t have solids after seven.

what was worse was that this was a SEATED show. never seen one of those at stubb’s before. and that meant they had to scramble for a good seat (where they all stayed COMPLETELY seated the whole damn show, i might add). some of them TRIED to run when they gates were open, to get a good seat. these people were all older than my parents. i kept waiting for someone’s hip to go south when they tried to rush things. i’m not being TOO cruel here, am i?

five things i heard at this show i’d NEVER heard at a show before…

1. what do you mean (the headliner) starts at 9:30? why so late? lord, i didn’t know this was gonna be an all-nighter.

2. do you guys have coffee and tea inside?

3. i remember the first show of his i went to….we skipped school after lunch to drive out to see him in my momma’s brand new 1959 buick.

4. those tattoos on your arms aren’t REAL are they?

5. can i use my aarp card to get a discount?

the sad thing about that last one is she asked AFTER i’d printed her ticket. if she’d asked BEFORE, i would have comped her in…’cause that was just TOO cool. and no, folks, the same thing WON’T apply if you’re around my age and try and use that line to score free koRn tickets.

Replies: 1 Comment

You mean no AARP discount for me, too? but dude, you promised!

old fogey said @ 09/15/2002 06:05 PM GMT