so, the sun is FINALLY out (at this point it’s around 3:00 on wednesday afternoon, july 3rd) so the dry creeks can go dry again. funny thing about this area of texas…you see almost as many bridges going over dry creeks as you do running ones…and i often used to wonder, “why on earth did they bother to put up a bridge?” then you get the kind of rain we’ve had lately..and it ALL makes sense. dry beds become creeks….creeks become rivers..and rivers become floods. even the drainage “pond” near kramer’s trailer filled with water, all marshy and tree-covered. it said it reminded him of his time in ‘nam…a laughable statement, since we all know that…

a. while kramer IS old, he’s not THAT old…at least not old enough to have fought in ‘nam

b. if kramer WAS indeed that old, his favorite pickup line would have been, “what’s your sign, eh?” for the last several year’s because he’d currently be “north of the border” and i DON’T mean oklafuckinhoma…

comments like that were kinda funny for a man who had just woofed down a “i’m a hippy but i can’t face it” meal (i.e. a hummus on wheat WITH BACON from thundercloud and an iced tea). this is of course not to be confused with the “i’m a hippy and i LOVE it” combo (hummus on wheat, no mayo or cheese with extra sprouts sprinkled with patchouli oil and served on an old grateful dead “abraxus” album sleeve…with bottled water, of course…)

but now it appears the rain has passed, which i see as a good thing. earlier i went out to the backyard to do a preliminary damage report and found we were two for four. i HAD the equipment in my car, but couldn’t unload it because out there, at 9:00 am this morning, it was still POURING. it reminded me of a similar storm that blew through in november, when the whole common denominator hit me and i realized the inner message hidden beneath the dark clouds…

the gods hate de la soul….or at least don’t want them to play in austin…

see, de la soul plays at stubb’s tonight, and i WAS gonna go but forgot and made plans to take kimberly, the porn star in training, to dinner and then on to see men in black ii. but while i hate to miss their show, i see it as a good thing. not just because of the incredible company that IS kimberly, the porn star in training (always have fun hanging with her) but also because as much as i like de la soul, i think they could quite possibly be a plague on our city. they’re heading our way, and the town floods. the LAST time they headed our way, we had a flood…AND a tornado in downtown austin!!!

if that’s not a sign, i don’t know what is….but it does make me wonder what’ll go down AT the show; and when it hits, do i REALLY wanna be there? HELL NO!!! i’ll be in a movie theater, in live oak, texas, with kimberly watching will smith and tommy lee motherfucking jones fight aliens. at least there i know i’ll be safe…unless kimberly attacks me or something. but we all KNOW that won’t happen…remember….i’m “special” like that.

Replies: 1 Comment

well, like de la soul said, “three is the magic number”. so maybe they should cancel and come back at another time.

josh said @ 07/03/2002 11:25 PM GMT

2020 note – eighteen years later i still haven’t gotten to see de la soul live…

2021 note – what’s not mentioned in the bit because it was too soon after, but isn’t at this point; i sent a round over to em and watched em drink it. legitimately happened. it’s good to know your bartender well. keep reading and it’ll make sense.

okay, so the other day when i was sacrificing my sanity to the cardio gods, i was watching crossfire on cnn. i prefer this over fox sports, which was the other option; and absent was my ultimate “make the time go by” viewing of the simpsons…bummer. so i got to look “educated” by getting sweaty, hair pulled back, glasses on, plodding away on an elliptical machine while watching cnn crossfire (no volume…you have to read closed captioning…which was really funny when they did the one on that nickelodeon show with gay parents..cause whenever anyone would say “fag”, the caption machine would pick up “flag” since it looks for the word closest to what was said if it’s not part of the captioning vocabulary file…”should we allow them to say “flag” in schools? isn’t that wrong? kinda prophetic given the pledge ruling last week, huh?). and the topic du jour? the bush girls…

yes, the not-quite-legal-to-drink twin daughters of the current president who always seem to find a place that won’t card them….look folks; i’m from austin, texas. i have been to “21 and up” clubs to celebrate a regular’s birthday only to find out that it was actually (we never told the owner) her sweet SIXTEEN!!! hell, i was getting into them at seventeen, and i can’t even use that “but i have tits” line that most of my readers can if they say the same thing about THEIR clubbing history. drinking by minors is just an acceptable part of austin nightlife…and tabc makes good money off it when they decide to. but the bottom line is, it happens. hell, even i’ve been drinking with the bush girls….

(okay, so i wasn’t “with” them per se, but i was in the same bar they were at and we WERE all drinking at the same time…it’s just i was drinking harder stuff…of course at this point, you have to realize that when i walked into my first sixth street club, they were all of six years old….FUCK i’m old…but i still turn heads at clubs, damn it, so leave me alone…where was i?)

and they were smoking cigarettes…….ooooo…..hey wait; only gotta be 18 to do that. where’s the scandal? i mean c’mon, they’ve all had their relative embarrassments…jfk had teddy; jimmy had billy; ronald had ron; bill had roger; and now gw has the twins…so, let me get this straight…the first daughters like to go out, hang with friends, drink a beer, smoke a camel, and their dad can’t stop them. this makes them different from lil’ miss lambda chi whatever HOW exactly? holy shit!!! the president and his family are normal people.

when you think about it, it’s a frat boy’s dream bar pick up….i mean, we all have our ultimate girl…even me; and NO, it’s not a stripper. (on the contrary; it’s a girl who stimulates my big head just as much as my not-as-big (but pierced) head (massive intelligence IS required to qualify, yes)…who could be my best friend, have awesome taste in pretty much everything, and would just happen to look good enough to where she COULD strip (and have a chest like she SHOULD strip) but is too modest to do so…unless i get her REALLY drunk and it’s just for me…and i HAVE found this girl, actually (though she’s never given me a lap dance, for the record)….i just need her to find her way back to me…but i digress…) i mean, every frat boy loves a girl who:

a. loves to party
and…
b. has a dad with some clout

i mean, we KNOW they like to party; and dad just HAPPENS to be the most powerful man in the free world…talk about connections. and we know he’s ALL about the hook-up, ’cause that’s how he’s gotten every job he’s ever had. and i can honestly say that at least the dark-haired one is kinda cute in person. so, if a greek boy or two happens to read this page, you now know who your prime targets should be come fall.

make me proud, son…

so, after an evening that included warring promoters, one of which still had some fire in his belly from the trailer they were using as an office being repossessed with them still IN IT, and him having to jump for his life as it was hauled off, and conflicting stories, and whining outlets, and whining co-workers, and this, that, and the other josh was MORE than ready to bid good-bye to his tech support position and i was more than ready to wrap up my night…both of which were gonna be done the same way. with booze.

certain drinks are manly, certain drinks are not. i remember going on a double date once with a couple where the guy was kinda the quiet, shy type who didn’t contribute much to the conversation and therefore could be easily overshadowed by even an average conversationalist. for those who have hung out with me, you know certain phrases DO NOT come to mind when you think of me…like “average conversationalist” (or for that matter “quiet” or “shy”). as a result, not only my date, but HIS date, was paying more attention to me. as it SHOULD be, but never mind that now. the point is, i wanted to help a brotha out and make him look more “take charge”. so when the waiter came around and asked if we wanted another round, i suggested that HE pick a round for us. his pick?

piña coladas.

it was the song on the pa at the time. you KNOW the one…”if you like piña coladas….getting caught in the rain…” don’t worry; i know you knew what i was talking about. but now it’s stuck in your head, isn’t it? i am SUCH the evil bastard.

but piña fucking coladas? with whip cream and a cherry on top none the less? what a FAIRY. if he got laid, like EVER, by that girl, it was a mercy fuck, i can guarantee it. certain drinks you can order rounds of for the ladies, certain ones you CAN’T. i don’t know if i’d get a round of jack black or something when ordering for the table (although if your GIRL orders jack for the table, it mean’s she’ll probably do one of two things later: take it in the ass, or kick the shit out of yours…YOU make the call); but a margarita is always a safe bet. i don’t know ANY women who drink and DON’T like margaritas. and in texas, especially, you can drink one as a guy, and not look sissified.

but if you order a frozen, try to get a floater. for the uneducated, this is where they add a shot of whatever so the icy chunk kinda floats in it. the last time i did that, it was a midori floater, at the request of a birthday party guest that unfortunately couldn’t make it and wanted me to down one (or more…i went with “more”) in her honor. not the most manly of floaters, but it did the trick. keep in mind, ANYTHING you put in only adds to the alcohol content.

the one frozen margarita i personally would NEVER add a floater to is the now infamous (on this page and elsewhere) baby a’s purple margarita. that is enough booze all on it’s own. josh wondered about them, one time had ONE, and that was all she wrote. he hasn’t touched them since.

this guy danny, from our phone center, went out with me and josh once and had two just like i did. when i took him home, he lost consciousness in my car. the next day, he went to work, took calls for like, two hours, and then passed out for the rest of his shift STILL DRUNK from the night before. some of my readers (and you KNOW who you are) need not never try this drink due to your alcoholic light-weightedness…which i am NOT faulting you for.

just warning.

unlike tellitubbies, the purple one in the margarita line up is NOT the wuss of the bunch. it’s more like a ’70s ‘cuda plum crazy purple kinda drink…a lean, mean, high octane machine. in fact, in a pinch, i think they can be melted down and used to fuel funny cars.

Replies: 3 Comments

Naw, I have a friend from TX that makes a killer maggie with the orange lik-core in it… they are a funny brown color and makes him sing along with Dr. Hook CD’s REAL loud… generally I drink bourbon or Bushmill’s… on ice with a splash

Annie in Jawja said @ 07/04/2002 04:23 PM GMT

hey now…you’re NOT including margaritas in that, are you? what do YOU drink?

sean (i write this stuff) said @ 07/03/2002 02:22 AM GMT

Pina Colodas and such…We call them FBD’s… Frozen Bimbo Drinks. Only good for the beach. Except for the ones made at home by “special” friends…

Annie

Annie in Jawja said @ 07/03/2002 12:11 AM GMT

well, i suppose the tail end of friday was a preview of things to come, work-wise; so once again, i’ve got to be industrially creative (i.e. make my own work) i DID have quite a bit to do, but found myself with everything pretty much knocked out, and it was only 3:45. for the next two weeks i’ll be tied to our tech support line (i’m thinking of posting the toll-free number on here so you can all call and say, “hi”) while the rest of my department heads off to deal with some dallas technical fun; i get left behind because i am one of the two choices that can single-handedly run the austin office and maintain all the outlets AND keep all venues happy; the other is my boss, who wants to head up and oversee dallas. all fair (as it should be in love, war, and big business, right?) but it still kinda sucks for me. on the upside, i won’t be in the big “D”, and don’t have to try my damnedest to find sitters for the dogs, which is never easy.
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dull-ass mondays. we ALL have them. the kind where it seems for ever minute you watch tick forward on your clock after lunch it sneaks backwards by two when you’re NOT looking. the kind where you have plenty to do, just don’t do any of it. or do it all, but do it too fast, and now work is just DRONING on…

if it happens in your world, you chalk it up as a “monday”, and move on. see, i can’t do that. it upsets the balance of things. throws off the curve. and makes me get pestering email; for you see, if i have a dull-ass day, and nothing happens to entertain MY hyper-active gemini brain (which is occasionally easier to entertain than a four year olds; and occasionally more difficult then a well-sedated EIGHTY-four year olds..so for those who can call me anytime, and i take your call, feel REALLY lucky; it’s because i KNOW i’ll enjoy talking to you. and for those who always seem to get voicemail on their first, second, third attempt? well…) then i have nothing to write about. it throws off what i call the “cfc”.

don’t confuse this with the “kfc”, home of the delicious eleven herbs and spices.

oh no. this is the “cfc”. as in “comedy food chain”. and don’t worry; if you’re reading this you at least have a chunk of the top link to call your own. some of you are at the bottom, too…

“clowns to bottom of me, readers to the top, here i am…stuck in the middle with jews…”

okay, a bogus lyrical rip-off….but it illustrates my point (except for the part about jews…i just through that in); and i guess it also sounds like a REALLY bad scene from a porn movie, but i digress….

see, if things in my life (or the people i deal with) don’t throw a bone my way (as far as subject matter is concerned, you perverts) then i have to dive into my own HEAD to get some comedy for you. have any of you TALKED to me for an extensive amount of time? or for that matter, have i ever told you to, “get out of my head”? if so, you’ve been to that place; and you know how truly scary it can be…

but then a small bit hit my windshield after my ninety-minute gym excursion (at the new one i go to a lot of the clientele are attractive women, which tends to make the motherfucking charm come out and therefore drag out time between exercises – but never between sets…i know why i’m there…plus, i’m sweaty and gross..what chance do i REALLY have?) and on top of that, my cardio stuff is taking longer and longer; which i see as a good sign; but once again, i digress…

the flyer on my windshield was for “uv free ‘mystic’ tans…the amazing thirty second spray tan.”

thirty second SPRAY tans? what the FUCK is that? that’s some scary stuff (don’t know how “amazing”, but scary)…i have been thinking of joining a tanning place to try and make my pale ass…well…..NOT so pale. but a thirty second SPRAY tan? is that kinda like a car wash for your neked ass where you get squirted down with self tanning lotion or something? that’s next? thirty-second spray HAIR?

oh yeah…never mind. they have THAT, too…

but seriously…can you picture it? i may have to go in JUST to see how this works and report back to you. does it get in your hair? do you have to wear goggles? is the “mystic tan” booth (emphasis on the “myst”) as scary as it looks on the flyer? do i have to shave my head like the guy in the before and after pics? or did his hair fall out from the tanning myst? TOO many questions…may have to check this out; maybe use it as a bargaining tool at a real tanning place.

oh yeah, and if anybody can track down the guys who do the voices of “al” and “lou” on the wendy’s radio commercials, and vocally incapacitate them in some severe way, i’ll buy you lunch everyday for a MONTH. i am SO sick of those guys. it’s made me stop eating at wendy’s completely…

so, a while back i kinda took a stand against the blatantly chunky set trying to qualify for handicapped parking…
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ya wanna know one of THE most scientifically proven ways to know that your night has regressed into a socially bad place? to know that you’re no longer thinking with your head? or if you’re a guy, the OTHER head, either? or your heart? or your wallet? how to know all thought processes are being controlled purely by tequila, and everclear (and NOT the lame alt-rock band, but rather the potent liquor they stole their name from)? and later, by really, REALLY good weed i believe they called “hydro”?

simple…

if the subject line of this piece is the CATCH-PHRASE for the evening, for about FIVE hours, you KNOW you’ve reached an odd place. and that was saturday night for me, and josh, and shane (with josh later swapped out for a DIFFERENT josh, plus matt, brian, and harold (the tattoo GOD of my world)).

it all stemmed from a story i’d once told shane; and last night i found out that now that shane can’t hear my stories as often (since he no longer shares an office with me at star) he now regurgitates a phrase or two that jogs his memory on one of my stories (while intoxicated), than asks me to entertain anyone around with that particular tale of my life…

this one dates back to high school, when my friend michael and his sister shannon were mid argument…she was sitting on the couch, and the back of their couch ran perpendicular to the front door to kind of create a makeshift entry hall. she kept after him in the dispute, and he just finally shot back, “shannon, if you don’t shut up, i’m gonna fart in your mouth”. to which she yelled, “MICHAEL…that is SO nasty..you WILL NOT. SHUT UP!!!”

he calmly walked up behind her, and in one swift movement yanked back her pony tail, lifted his leg over her face, and passed wind. due to the shock (or excitement, depending on which type of person you are) of having your head snatched back by your pony tail, her mouth was gaping open; so he LITERALLY farted in her mouth, and then ran like hell.

what makes this even funnier is that michael is now the manager of a verizon wireless store, with a wife and kids. i WILL share this story with his kids at some point…

so, i told this story between round one and two; two being where i stopped due to the house policy on the purple ‘ritas, but shane went on to a third (surprisingly they didn’t stop him; but i’ll still stop at two unless someone else is gonna drive and i feel like achieving a new level of sloppiness. and in case josh’s girlfriend is reading, don’t worry…he only drank corona).

then it was off to san marcos, where i found an actual cure for the booze in the purples…REALLY good weed. “hydro”, i believe they call it. i didn’t think it would hit me that hard, but considering it seemed like only about twenty minutes i was on the couch, but when i got in the car it had been two hours, i went home and slept. well. damn well. but almost TOO well. we’ll get to that another time.

Replies: 3 Comments

Its got to be a true story… too funny to think that one up. What makes it so funny to me is that Micheal threatened AND delivered… That is so funny!

Annie in Jawja said @ 06/28/2002 08:37 PM GMT

i dunno…but you remember him well enough as a teenager to know it is…

sean (i write this stuff) said @ 06/25/2002 07:43 PM GMT

i wonder how many of your readers DON’T believe that that’s a true story.

kathi said @ 06/25/2002 02:15 PM GMT

so, harold (owner of sharp things tattoo & body piercing, on the square in san marcos, 512-353-1170 – and token vegetarian at the bar-b-que yesterday) made a reference to an old entry in a comment the other day. this would be that entry…
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so, after last nights somewhat chemically (and herbally) fueled escapades (“somewhat” my ass) a nice, hard sleep was in order. a VERY hard sleep. and that’s exactly what happened. problem is, it was almost TOO hard. when i got home, i promised my pups that today would be “daddy-doggy day”. the day where i have my food delivered; and while i may do productive stuff like laundry and cleaning and what-not, i spend all day at home and hang out with them a lot.

so, i woke up at noon or so (after not passing out till around 3:30 or so) and wandered out into my desperately needing to be mowed back yard with the puppies. when they took off to handle their morning business, i wandered back in and began the eternal daddy-doggy day debate: pizza or chicken? those are your only two delivery options in L-town, so that’s what you have to decide between unless you wanna leave the house; which would be breaking the rules of daddy-doggy day. but this debate felt odd. like i was forgetting something. like lunch was SUPPOSED to be handled today, so why am i having this internal debate? then it hit me…

my BIRTHDAY was only four days ago.

see, in my family, it’s all good for you to NOT see the relatives on the actual day. we don’t care. hang with your friends, get drunk, have lil’ blonde strippers hang from your nipple rings by their teeth (DAMN that hurt). but the sunday either right before or right after your birthday is set aside for a nice, sit-down family meal. since last sunday had the dubious honor of being both father’s day (crowded restaurants) and the day after grandma’s memorial service, we decided to make mine TODAY. i even set the time (1:00 pm – i.e. one hour after this reality hit me) and the place (red lobster).

so, my whole family had remembered my birthday party, but i hadn’t. damn, i AM old. or, the anti-molly, if you think of it in the terms of john hughes “sixteen candles” (which WILL be back on the big screen in august at the paramount as a double feature with the breakfast club…gee, wonder if i’ll be there, huh?)

so, in fifteen minutes, i shaved, showered, got dressed (fairly nicely, i might add) and booked out of here only to arrive for MY luncheon that i had TOTALLY forgotten about by 12:56. YES!!!! on time as usual; my sister sauntered in slightly after one, and my uncle (and companion) at around 1:30. lunch was served (TOO much lunch for me…dinner will be a nice cohiba robusto…fat free, cholesterol free, and sugar free…no additives, no preservatives…natures perfect food) to cap off a day that was mid-filled (i.e. post-lunch, pre-simpsons) by more retail therapy at the outlet mall in san marcos; a place that sadly STILL doesn’t feel quite the same for me as it did earlier in the spring, but that’s another, MUCH longer story…

every so often i miss us having our office downtown…

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