Nevermind

Naw, I really don't need a flick to the nuts. But I haven't had electricity in over a week, so I wouldn't mind giving someone else a good, solid flick. I want some electricity, dammit! I'd like to be able to buy milk, and cheese, and eggs, and anything at all to put in my fridge so that I can have a little variety. Soup and crackers and nuts are getting a little old.

So how about that last post? Basically, I was going to talk about not having the cajones to talk to this attractive woman and then blather on about how whenever I'm attracted to a woman and she reciprocates--it was obvious, in this case, by how we were looking at each other--that she ends up being a totally irresponsible nutbag. This one was no different. I talked to her boss, with whom I'm friends, and she fired her for being an irresponsible nutbag, not her words, but mine. So, it just goes to show, happy campers, to look for those everpresent indicators of being attracted to nutbags, emotional cripples, sex addicts, cleptos, neurotics, golden shower fans, or whatever your brand of weirdo is usually attracted to you. When someone is attracted to you, watch out! It might be one of your wonderful psychos that you tend to attract. All of us, no matter who you are, attract at least one type of weirdo.

Back to work!

I Need a Flick to the Nuts

Have any of you seen the movie, The 40 Year Old Virgin? Do you remember the part near the end when Seth Rogen flicks David Rudd's nuts so that he remembered he has nuts and that he should use them? Well, I might need that same favor because I can't seem to collect the cajones to talk to this wonderfully attractive woman.
Let me bring you into my psychosis.
I went to the local bar for a little while on Saturday evening, sat at the bar by myself, drank a few, and went home early. The only person I talked to was the bartender, a quite attractive bar wench who was fun to talk to--albeit, I didn't say much because it was a Saturday night and she was damn busy. Sunday rolls around and I go to the bar again, not because I wanted to see her--because I don't know her schedule anyway--but because for most of my life I wasn't able to go to a bar on Sunday. (Bars are closed on Sundays in my hometown and restaurants won't serve alcohol; and where I lived before moving here was the same except you could have a drink while out to eat.) Here's my reaction to finding out bars are open on Sundays in this county: You mean to tell me that I can watch football, drink, and smoke all at the same with strangers? Kick ass! I'm there! And I was there last Sunday. Again, she was bartending. Same thing. And a lot of appreciative eye contact. I never did ask her name, though. That becomes important in my psychosis.
So I go there again on Monday night. Yes, you already think I'm a lush, but listen to this: We had an icestorm begin on Saturday evening and by Monday morning power lines were snapping all over the place. The bar, miraculously, had power--and they didn't even own a generator. More later. My boss is letting me go early because . . . well, I'm typing this and I don't have anything to do at work.

Laters!

A Copy of a Copy--Paying it Forward

I copied this from a friend who copied it from someone else. It sounds like fun.

I am participating in Pay it Forward - The Blog Edition. Here’s how it works: I will send handmade gifts to the first three people who leave a comment and tell me they are interested in playing. In order to play, you must have your own blog (doesn’t have to be a food blog) and you must continue to ‘pay it forward’ by promising the same thing to your readers.Now, as far as the handmade gifts go, I don’t know yet what they will be. I also don’t know when I’ll get them sent. You may not receive the gift tomorrow or next week, but I do promise that it will get to you within the next 365 days! Sound good? I think it sounds great!Remember, I will be choosing the first three people who respond by leaving a comment on this blog post. The requirements are that you have your own blog and are willing to send out three of your own homemade gifts (whatever you want to make, no rules or limitations here).

I am willing to ship my gifts anywhere in the world, so everyone is eligible to participate regardless of what country you are blogging from! Just please make sure you leave a valid e-mail address so I can contact you for shipping information
------------------------------------------------------------------------

Don't be surprised to receive giant lint balls if you leave a comment. I'll dig a small one out of my belly button, then slowly add to it for weeks. Enjoy!

10 Random Things No One Cares About

1. I am horrible at keeping promises to myself. I can tell myself to exercise everyday, and invariably I won't do it everyday. I can tell myself to write everyday, and invariably . . . you get the idea. Even though this is the case, I'm great at keeping promises to other people. I think it might be a matter of saying something out loud in order to make my thoughts entrenched in reality instead of thoughts simply floating in the ether--in the echoing cavern of what could be considered my brain. Still, broken promises to myself sometimes drive me nuts, and the older I become the more I think the promises one makes to one's self are just as important, if not more important, than the promises to others.
2. I'm moody. Of course anyone who knows me knows that. Little things can really get on my nerves by the end of the day. I am, however, strangely calm when the excrement hits the A/C.
3. I have a cymbal addiction. I love the damn things. Some of my friends think I have a problem, and one of them jokes that if a tornado ever hits my house, people will find me in many pieces, chopped up by flying cymbals. But there's a reason I have so many different cymbals: different sounds illicit different responses, even from the drummer, not just the listener. And they're shiny! (Well, some of them are. Some are ugly, dirty bastards, but I like those cymbals, too.) Who doesn't like shiny things?
4. Similar to my dog, I can't stand vacuum cleaners. They're noisy and annoying. You'd figure that, since I bang the drums, the noise wouldn't bother me, but there's nothing musical about it. It's just white noise. As I vacuum, I have to fight the urge to go down on all fours and bite the shit out of it, then mark my territory to remind the noisy thing not to enter certain rooms.
5. I feel a little lost on weekends, especially in the morning. Without work or some kind of structure, I feel a lack of a sense of direction until I'm totally awake. I might very well bitch about Mondays, but I actually enjoy going back to the grind.
6. I have a dark sense of humor and I curb it around people I don't know well. Actually, I curb it a little around everyone, even people I know really well. I don't think anyone wants to hear some of the crap that splats on the walls of my mind.
7. Writing a novel is one of my goals. Eventually I'll finish one. The problem is that I have a few stories in my head, but I grow bored with them--because I already know the stories. For some reason it's difficult for me to get excited about something when I already know the ending.
8. I have a webbed toe on my right foot. For any of you who have foot fetishes, I'll be happy to make your day or disgust you, and the more disgusted you are, the more I'll laugh (not that a webbed toe is disgusting in my opinion).
9. I'd like to see most of the U.S. before every going overseas. Why the hell would I want to see another country when I haven't seen most of the things my backyard has to offer?
10. The Cookie Monster, Animal, from the Muppet Show, Wiley Coyote, the Tazmanian Devil and Foghorn Leghorn are my favorite childhood characters.

Down with Trees

I woke up this morning (please sing along to those first few words, folks) at four in the morning to the sound of snapping, crackling, popping and crashing trees. That's not exactly a nice way to wake up, but it does get the heart pumping, not in a cardiovascular way, but more like, "Holy shit! Zee Germans are coming!" An ice storm began the day before yesterday, and it isn't quite done yet. So this morning I lounged in bed, happy for its warmth, and just listened to ice destroy trees. I was a little humored by it. Why? you might ask . . . Well, in this area of Oklahoma, the locals have a program called "Up with Trees" as if there aren't enough of them. Hmmm . . . well I wonder why there are so many power outages in the area. Could it be all the trees and the fact that no one trims the damn things? So, in my opinion, nature has a response to this program, and its name is "Down with Trees." It's quite effective. Speaking of power outages, the power went out at my house around five-thirty this morning. Thank goodness the house is heated by natural gas. I have tons of sympathy for those who have central heat because they'll be cold. Soon. So what if my fridge doesn't work? I can put my food outside, although my milk will most likely turn into ice, but who doesn't like milk popsicles? While thinking about this on my front porch and smoking a cigarette, I saw something I've never seen before: the flashes of power lines breaking. I hope we have power here at the office for the rest of the day, but if we don't, oh well. I suppose I can go home and read by flashlight or something.
I have lots of things to say since I haven't posted in such a long time, but it will take me a while to write what has happened in the past year. I'll get around to it. I don't, however, have the internet at home, so I'll have to write a little here and there when it's slow at work. Laters . . .