They're no longer Heeeeerrrrreee

Fat Uncle has left the building!

I now have my house completely to myself for approximately 17 more hours... before I leave for a week. My father and uncle did a nice job of picking up the house before they left. Of course they did all this starting at 5:30 am, thus making it very difficult to stay asleep on the couch.

Thank goodness I was able to go back to bed (my real bed!) for 2 hours after they left.

Now its packing, laundry, volleyball, piano practice, and then hopefully getting laid! Although the getting laid thing may prove to be a bit difficult. So far, no takers... not even Steven. (insert sad emoticon here).

Oh well, its a gorgeous day, I'm well shut of my relatives, and ready to play some outdoor volleyball and get my spike on!

Ginormous!

Ok, maybe it wasn't as big as all THAT!

In order to ditch my father and uncle for a short time last night, I went to the gym and then went to band rehearsal. After a grueling workout on the elliptical trainer, I headed down for a well deserved shower and sauna. I head to the showers (this is at the Y, so they are 'gang showers') and I see a guy showering at the last showerhead. He's obviously a bit shy as he's spending a lot of time facing the corner. How cute!

He's sort of a dorky, middle-aged, semi-attractive, pasty-white dude from what I can see. Married. Mid 40's. Probably 6'2" or so. Decent shape (at least from behind).

I don't really recognize him (I see a lot of the same faces and cocks at the gym because I always tend to go at the same time) but I'm curious. So i leave a courtesy showerhead between us and start my ablutions.

And then he turns around.

Holy CHRIST! It was huge! I think it was quite possibly the largest flaccid penis I've ever seen in my life, no lie. Outside of porn or the digitally enhanced images on the net, that is.

Now I know the hot shower was helping to 'relax and elongate'-- but shit. This thing hung well past mid-thigh and was stretching for his kneecaps. So was his sack. It was seriously awe-inspiring and I couldn't stop staring. I mean I KNEW full well that it is poor form to blatantly STARE at another man's junk in a supposedly 'straight' shower situation. But hell-- whow could blame me?

Honestly, when I stared at the fucker I was thinking, "When did Hickory Farms open a store in the shower at the Y?" It was like a foot-long summer sausage hanging in a window display.

Unfortunately my staring did NOT go unnoticed. The poor guy saw that he was holding my attention (I think it was because my jaw had dropped and I had completely stopped soaping up) and he quickly rotated back to facing the corner-thus hiding his prize pecker.

He finished up soon after, wrapped up completely in a towel, and left the showers with his head down.

Dude! WTF man? I'd be swinging that fucker for everyone to see, head held high!

Geesh!

Hola, Me-HI-co!

Guess who gets to go to Mexico next week?

Oh yes, after shooing my father and uncle from Chez Poubelle on Saturday morning, I will have approximately 20 hours to recuperate, do laundry, get laid, and get my shit in order before flying to sunny Mexico. On Sunday morning. At 6:00 am.

I've never been to Mexico (not even to Tijuana for a donkey show!) so it should be an adventure. Unfortunately I'll be travelling to 4 different suppliers and our sister manufacturing facility all in 4 days time. So lots of travel will be involved.

With the luck I've been having recently, I'm sure I'll be one of those American Business people who gets kidnapped and ransomed. And I doubt my company would even pay one peso to get me back.

Horni-B-Gon

Well, THAT'S taken care of.

Got home yesterday afternoon-- dad and uncle were still out. Took care of business. Feel much better. It was a two-brawny paper towel cleanup.

Mmmmmmm.

Anyway- when I finally got home last night after my piano lesson and some grocery shopping, my uncle and father were firmly ensconced on my couch watching "V for Vendetta". They had also managed to screw up my surround sound to where it didn't work.

30 minutes later I had the surround sound fixed.

Then I asked how the golf went seeing as how they were playing a new course that I had chosen for them. Big mistake on my part. Huge. My father then decided to take the opportunity to tell me exactly how much he HATED the course and how awful the day was.

cb: So you DIDN'T like the course?

dad: It SUCKED!

cb: Was it in poor shape or something? Was it not nice?

dad: The fairways were narrow, there was shit in front of several tees that you had to hit over just to GET to the fairways.....

cb: So it was just a hard course. But uncle said you won.

dad: So what? The whole thing still sucked.

cb: Well then, perhaps you can set up your own golf from now on, since I did such a lousy job of scrambling to find you an alternative course since UNC was aerating.


What an ingrate!

Horny Boy

When my dad and uncle come to town, I get horny.

Of course this is because I have no sexual outlets, no free time, no alone time and I get all pent up.
(yeah, you sicko perverts... I know what you were really thinking!)

Seriously, I'm horny because I basically become celibate when they are here. And its funny because I'm generally not that horny. But as soon as the freedom to act on my desires is curbed, THEN I get all crazy. I become sort of a walking, talking sexbomb...

The slightest whiff of testosterone and I go off.

Unfortunately today in my lab, there are two rather hunky contract workers doing some installation work. They are wearing their uniform (tight jeans and even tighter, black t-shirts displaying their company logo) and I'm going out of my mind. I watched them lift a heavy piece of equipment into place already, and the forearms on my favorite one were bulging so much...

... well, it caused a slight amount of secondary bulging on my part. AND a wet spot.

Seriously, the head guy (pun intended) is probably all of 26, blondish hair, buzzcut, goatee, blue blue eyes, 6' tall, stocky, arms for days, nice smile, a bit of junk in the trunk, t-shirt stretched tight, slight belly...

His buddy is slighter of build, tattoos on his forearms, wedding ring, dark hair, and redneck cute.

(cue the "I'm in Heaven" music)

I may have to sabotage their installation when they aren't looking so they have to do an extra day of troubleshooting.

Hot Hunk Haiku #28

Big BoSox Youkilis
Swinging Bats and tagging bags
Let me past first base!

My Life on the Couch

During the time when my uncle and father are in town, I crash on my davenport. The davenport is in my TV room, which just happens to be situated between my bedroom (where my dad stays) and my guest bedroom (where my uncle stays). The following is a play by play of my night last night.

11:00 pm-- lights out

11:20 pm-- still can't get comfy, have hardon- can't jack off with THEM in the house

12:45 am-- woken up by uncle's coughing jag in next room

12:46 am-- I decide to pee since I'm already awake

1:40 am-- Uncle gets up to pee, shines LED flashlight down hallway to see

4:15 am-- Dad gets up to pee, sneezes loudly twice while doing so

4:25 am-- dad still awake, sighs heavily every few minutes then clears throat

5:30 am-- Uncle gets up to pee, uses flashlight again

5:50 am-- Uncle goes to take dump and read, uses flashlight again

6:10 am-- alarm goes off. Uncle still in bathroom

6:15 am-- eating toast and waiting for bathroom to air out while uncle smokes out on front porch after satisfying dump

Reasons to Love the Durham Bulls

I tend to always get seats along the first base line as close to the field as possible. I also try to get seats with a good view of the bullpen and the pitcher warmup area.

These are just a couple of the choice views that I snapped up with my camera. The pink unis are for Breast Cancer Awareness. You could see the pink jerseys through their white baseball pants.

Of course I'm sure my none-too-subtle photographic exploits did not escape the notice of my father and uncle.

This is just a snuck photo of a boy who was sitting with his girlfriend. They were in the row in front of me. Unfortunately I was never able to snap a pic of the cute 'bearish' guy sitting right next to me (1999 graduate of UNC, goatee, DKNY shorts, stocky, hunky-- looked a bit like Durban Bud. He was a fun seat mate.

They're Heeeeeeerrrrreeee

My father and fat uncle arrived safely yesterday.

I have functioning water, so they were able to cancel their hotel reservations and stay with me. Joy. Rapture. Already I am looking forward to next Saturday when they leave, and the visit has barely even started!

Just so you realize, during this week-long visit, I will be spending every night on my couch as my uncle will be occupying the spare bed, and my father will be sleeping in my bed. Needless to say, this tends to make me rather grouchy.

Oh, and the farting games have already begun. My uncle's ass is highly toxic again (as usual), and during our provision-stocking trip to the local grocery store, my uncle beefed several while trotting down the aisles. And these polluted the ENTIRE ailse when he launched them! But the worst was when we were standing in the line to checkout.

Yes, he slipped out an SBD and violated the entire checkout lane.

And there were LOTS of other people waiting to check out. How fucking embarassing!!! Even I'm not that rude.

Oh,and then after all the drama and fiasco with my house the past few weeks, they had the gall to bitch about my jacuzzi not being operational. I'm not joking; they really whined about it. Instead of going off, I calmly informed them that they now had running water at my house, and didn't have to pay for a hotel.

And if that wasn't going to work that I was certain I could find them a hotel in the area with a jacuzzi.

Visit with Kyle

As you may or may not know, Kyle from the stateright-stageleft blog came down to visit me last week.

Well, it was a visit/work trip, but who's complaining?

We had a nice time, despite the fact that he stayed with me from Thursday through Sunday morning and we had no water. I took him to a Durham Bulls game (where the Bulls won in the bottom of the 9th inning). We saw Duke Gardens. We went to the movie "Grindhouse" which was a ton of fun. We stole wireless from my neighbors. We did some shopping. We sauna'ed and showered at my gym (so he could see where all the "magic" happens-- even if we didn't partake in any). We ate greasy pizza and watched bad movies (do NOT rent the Spanish film Queens under any circumstances).

Even though he was fighting a cold and wanted a low-key weekend, I still felt like a lousy host. I wanted to take him to sushi. And for beers at my favorite pub. And possibly to Raleigh to explore things-- maybe even to our crappy leather bar so he could see just what I have to work with in the South. But no. The water thing was weighing heavily upon me, and I wasn't much fun to be around.

But Kyle was great, and as usual he brought me prezzies! Some gifts from the Milano show, and a super cool piece of art from the same store he bought his stuff. I cannot WAIT to get it framed (but I may have to due to monetary funds being directed elsewhere at the mo').

Do not let the above deter anyone else from scheduling a visit to NC. I don't always expect gifts from guests. And I promise I'll be a better host once I have running water to work with.

NC is indeed beautiful this time of year. Just ask Kyle.

Jury Duty Thursday

So in the midst of all my many crises, I got a summons to Jury Duty.

My presence was requested at 8:30 am on this date, April 19th, 2007 at the Judicial Building in downtown Durham to potentially serve my civic duty and take part in jurisprudence. Here are some notes on my jury duty day....

First of all, the 8:30 am time was more of a guideline than a hard and fast rule, as the judicial building doesn't even open until that time. Then there's the process of herding everyone through a metal detector and x-ray scanner. Then the checkin process. Then sitting and waiting.

I will say that I saw a TON of fucking HOT sheriffs and deputies walking around in brown unis with guns and shaved heads and... woof! However, the jury pool did not contain a single hot guy. Or anyone else identifiably gay for that matter.

We eventually watched a lovely and informative video on the workings of the court system in NC. It was informative, and the police/bailiff actors were hunky hot on the thing. (God, I'm such a horny devil!) During the video I learned that NC uses a one day, one trial system. After which we would have the guarantee of not being called again for at least 2 years.

Then there was roll call and more sitting.

Shortly after 10 am, however, the clerk announced to us that out of court settlements had been reached and our services were no longer necessary. We were all dismissed.

I must say I'm a fraction disappointed by this, as I was daydreaming about sitting in a jury box, gazing at hunky bailiffs and prosecuting attourneys, and becoming the jury foreman, and taking notes, and seeing the Ally McBeal process of the whole thing.

But I do have a free day now, as I do not feel compelled to return to work after the excrutiating jury duty process.

*On an unrelated note, i should have my water issue fixed by thursday, I've arranged nearly all of my father's golf outings, the gutter guy is coming to give me a quote today, and I scheduled a car service appointment for next friday.

Perhaps the scales of justice are tipping in my favor??

Embarassing Moments

Have you ever been walking through, say, your local grocery store when you see a guy that you THINK you know from somewhere and you do the whole chin-flip-hey-what's-up thing and then as you are walking away down the aisle you suddenly realize that you DO know the guy because you've blown him a couple times in your gym sauna and then you get that oh-shit feeling as you also realize the sorta heavy woman he was shopping with was his wife?

Yeah, me neither.

Blow bull win meat

Our poor bull got blown yesterday.

Yes, due to the Nor'easter and the heavy wind field crossing North Carolina, the iconic Durham Bull (at the Durham Bulls ball park) lost his head and horns. We can rebuild him-- we have the technology.

Natually, the wind gusts also caused my neighborhood to lose power for 10 hours yesterday. Evidently, the NC powerlines can't handle windgusts up to 60 mph.

Pussies.

Thank Buddha that my power was restored shortly after 8 pm last night, so I at least got to watch some of "Drive".

Wishing Well: a saga

Here I am wishing that my fucking well would still work.

I had to take a half day off work today to go to Durham's City Hall, in order to fill out paperwork to START the process of hooking up my house to city water. The forms and paperwork evidently had to be done in person and they took all of 10 minutes to fill out. They were filled out by 2:10 pm today.

The paperwork then should get entered into the system still today (monday) if the guy did it before 3 pm as he intended.

The city's computer system, however, won't generate a work order until sometime tomorrow.

Then the guy who puts the tap on the city water pipe gets the work order on WEDNESDAY. And then there is no guarantee as to when I will get water. Could be hooked up this week... could be as many as two... because mine is an emergency. Otherwise it could be four weeks.

I'm supposed to call the guy first thing on Wednesday to plead my case (i.e. beg).

My father and fat uncle are still planning on coming down for their spring golf visit this coming Saturday. I have done NONE of my usual prepwork for them. No tee times, no maps, no itinerary, no durham bulls tickets... nada.

I'm going insane.

Chez Poubelle Du Blanc

Another in an ongoing series about how absolutely white trash my house is.

So Kyle (stageright-stageleft) is down here in NC for a visit-- actually more of a work visit, but he so kindly piggybacked it with an extended holiday in order to visit me. He has been staying at Chez Poubelle du Blanc since Thursday evening.

Thursday evening is also the same time that I lost the use of water in my house.

No, it wasn't from lack of bill payment; I'm on a well. And Thursday night just happened to be the time when my well pump decided to die an agonizing death. I immediately called and set up an appointment with a plumber for Friday morning.

Friday morning turned into Friday afternoon and Kyle and I had to wait around and fuck off an entire day basically waiting for the plumbers to call. Which they eventurally did but not until late afternoon.

The lovely plumber (and his hunky hispanic helper) determined that the well pump, the main switch, the tank, a filter system and some piping would all need to be replaced... all to a tune of a couple grand. OR-- I could bite the bullet and hook up to city water which would also cost a couple grand, but would be healthier since evidently the wells in my area were polluted by a leaky gas station underground holding tank (who knew???).

Naturally by the time the plumbers finished giving me this diagnosis, the time was 5 pm and the city of Durham water and sanitation offices were closed. Until Monday.

Fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck.

So Kyle and I have been timing our frequent excursions into town with our bathroom urges so as to kill two birds with one stone. We also used my YMCA membership to gain shower access. Interim cleaning is done with wet wipes. All food has been take out and food containers are disposable. Poor Kyle! He comes down to visit, and its like he has travelled in time back to the 1800's, only with Pizza Hut.

The best part of the whole thing is that my father and fat uncle are STILL planning on coming down to stay with me for their annual golf visit-- next week. So somehow I have to manage getting the city out to hook me into the water main, and then having a plumber connect to my house the rest of the way, all before next Saturday rolls around.

And I'm supposed to have jury duty this coming week.

Is someone using a voodoo doll on me???

Hot Hunk Haiku #47

Hot, Inked, Stud Rocker
Check those guns... and Lats for days!
Green Flag for my hole

Dark Fumblings

After being admonished that I am not talking about sex enough, here is a brief teleplay of some activity that may or may not have recently occurred...

(darkened room, only light from TV screen... gay porn is playing)

kiss, kiss, fumble, mumble mumble
Yeah, that one looks good. Lets watch THAT one.
Oh fuck yeah! That's hot!
Oh, gahhhhmmmm, slurpy slurp, suck tweak suck
(gag-- gag-- tears)
Oh yeah mmmmm, suck it, oh OH yeah
Lookit that- shit! They're brothers?? oh fuck thats hot!
slurpy slurp suck
oh fuck yeah-- gimme that
sniiiiiiifffffff
lube lube lube, crinkle, tear, crinkle
snap
lube lube
sniiiiiffffff
oh yeah, mmmmm, OH FUCK! Oh fuck yeah!
ridey ridey, jacky jacky
sniiiifffff
rock rock bounce bounce rock, ride ride
Fuckin jack me, dammit.
Oh GOD- DAMN that hurts good!
Fuck oh FUCK OH FUUUUUUUCCCCKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Get it out of me. Now.

Slooorrrrrp.

Ow. oh God damn.

Damn.

Go Duke Lacrosse!

So the Lacrosse Boys are innocent.

Shocker.

This is the engorged tick of a story that is once again sucking the life out of the entire Triangle area of North Carolina (especially Durham). We've lived with this case lurking about for over a year now. Jebus, you couldn't swing a dead stripper around a pole without hitting someone doing a story about the Duke Lacrosse Rape case.

And in the end, the case was dropped. Anyone who lives in Durham could've told you months ago that this was going to happen months. There was just no evidence of the crime, and the case should never have been built. The shady D.A. pushed it so hard just to gain reelection-- and now he's being investigated.

Oh, how the scales of Justice tip and sway!

However, I'm slightly disappointed in the outcome. I was hoping these boys would go to jail. You KNOW what they do to rapists in jail, right? And these boys... mmmmm, they would have been passed around like a bong at a Florida State frat party.

(or perhaps I should have said, "Passed around like a stripper at a Duke Lacrosse party?")

Work is Hell

I think Matt Groening said it best:

Work is a snowmobile racing across the tundra and then suddenly it flips over, pinning you underneath. At night, the ice weasels come.

Wait... that might be love. Works either way though.

I very nearly stayed in bed today. My alarm went off at 6 and I hit the snooze three times. After the third, I was just laying in bed thinking about how much I wanted to sleep in and how little I wanted to go to work today.

I came so close to justifying calling in for a vacation day. I could sleep in. I could take care of that pesky DNV issue. I could work on music. I could clean my house for all the visitors that I will be receiving this month. I could jack off.

I think it was a sign. An unheeded sign.

As it was, I finally sighed and came to the realization that I couldn't hide from my worklife. So I hauled my fat ass out of bed and managed to pull it together enough to get to work today. And instantly regretted it.

First thing I was approaced by one of my employees who was distraught. She had heard from "little boss" that "big bossy" was trying to get rid of me and that I might be leaving the department. This was all news to me, which I told my employee.

Evidently I am now the subject of gossip in my own department- and its one of my bosses doing the gossiping with my staff. How nice.

After the councelling session, I got informed by another individual that I have two non-functioning pieces of equipment that I need to fix. And that we are not able to keep up with the data entry for an important 'big bossy' project.

And as I type this, its only 8:17 am and I haven't had any coffee.

Hark! The ice weasels approacheth.

Gutter Fuck Redux

The gutter people came again yesterday- what a fucking joke.

Scheduled arrival time: 6 pm
Actual arrival time: 7 pm
Time spent remeasuring: 10 minutes
Quote for the "special" gutters: STILL over 5K
Adjusted quote for just regular gutters: $3600

I thanked the man for his time, and told him I'd be back in touch after I got two more quotes.

Disintegration

Ever have those moments when you feel your life is spectacularly disintegrating?

I go through one of these phases every three to six months or so. When bills and projects and general life-dissatisfaction all pile up and reach some sort of critical mass. I think the whole gutter thing has much to do with it.

The gutter guy is coming back today at 6 pm, by the way. They wanted to 'remeasure' and to see about cutting out commission etc so as to REALLy get the best possible price. Like that's gonna work. At this point they are wasting their time, I think.

I also need to get my truck operational before my Dad arrives so I can move it so he has a place to park. I also need to get the jacuzzi fixed- and I don't know whats wrong with it.

Then there are all the regular bills to contend with.

Also my car has about 200 miles left before I need to get it in for service. At which point they will tell me that I need new tires-- which is yet another 1000 dollars. I also have to get new license plates. Don't ask about that one.

Then there is the whole "Steve" thing. We are having fun hanging out, but I get less sleep when we hang out. Also, he's a wonderful procrastination tool for not getting all this other work done.

I'm just overwhelmed a bit.

gutter fucks

So the gutter people came yesterday.

To cut to the chase, they wanted over $5000--for just the gutters. Not even the covered kind, as those were over 7 grand.

Five Grand for gutters-- are you fucking KIDDING me???

Little did I know when I agreed to have these people come to my house that I was in for the 'new car experience'. New car experiences piss me off. I really don't think that I can express exactly how much I loathe the whole "haggle and dicker" aspect of the process. And I wasn't anticipating it, which pisses me off even more.

The company I called evidently is the equivalent of the BMW 's of the gutter world. I wish I would have known that going in, and then I could have cancelled the whole thing. But no, I blythely stepped right in it.

The first thing that pissed me off is that I told them that I had somewhere to be at 7:30 pm. No problem, the whole thing would be done by 6:30 they assured me. But their fucking sales pitch just kept going and going and going.... I didn't manage to get them out of my house until 7:40-- very uncool of them and it made me late for band rehearsal. They also pulled the whole "let me show you why we're better than the other guys thing. That should have been a tipoff right there... that and the delay in getting to the quoted price.

Then I had to sit though the whole 'let me see what we can do for you' thing. And here is where I wish I could be a mean person. I should have just said- unless you can get your price down to 2 grand and throw in a blowjob, we aint' got a deal. But no- I'm a nice guy (and they were ugly) so I let them do the 'call the manager' thing.

Just like a fucking car dealership.

Then its the whole, well, if we can put a sign in your yard and put you on our referral list, then we can lower it to... thing. After three iteratiions of this, and it getting down to 4+ grand, I finally grew a pair and said, "Look. I am NOT prepared to sign anything today. I don't care if the price goes up because I'm not taking advantage of the 'day of demo' thing. I am not going to pull the trigger on this deal because quite frankly your price is still 2 grand over what I was anticipating and i have to completely reexamine my finances."

To their credit they still tried to work me by saying, "This is a really good deal. I realize its a lot and you want to think about it, but if you don't take it today, with the price increase we are never going to hear from you again, are we?"

And so I stood up, looked the sales dude in the eye and said, "Then I guess this is goodbye." And shook his hand.

Then the fucking manager called my cell phone one last time. And then i had to get snippy.

"Look. I really appreciate all you tried to do to work on the cost for me. But your price is just too freakin' high. I can't swing it and I'm unwilling to shell out that much money. It just isn't gonna happen. Thank you and goodbye."

Nothing pisses me off more than the 'hard sell'. I'm amazed I kept my cool as long as I did.

White Trash House

I've recently come to the realization that I have become white trash.

It is a very sad and very harsh realization to be sure. But true nonetheless. You should see my house. I live in a neighborhood of older folk who keep up their homes and lawns. My house is the eyesore on the block. So much so that I have named my residence...

Chez Poubelle du Blanc.

The other night as I was watching TV, I heard a couple noises outside. It sounded like a squirrel on the roof or something and I blew it off. The noise I heard was actually the sound of my gutters falling off the front of my house. Yes, I discovered it while coming home from a hard day at the office. As I approached my home I see the entire north side gutter sagging like Brittney's labia.

So I have been forced to call a gutter guy. How much this will cost is anyone's guess. And then I'll be forced to paint the outside of the house, which is ok because the creamy-yellowy-beigey color is really hideous and the paint is peeling in spots.

Also, my lawn is a complete embarassment. The half acre around my house is a goulash of chickweed, clover, crabgrass, dandelions, violets, and the occasional yard onion. I think the small amount of actual grass is fescue, but I'm not sure. The only things missing at this point are an engine block and a toilet planter.

I have spent the last two nights mowing my lawn and then spraying it with a very unenvironmentally friendly weed killer. I think it goes by the name "Bitch Kill" or something. The label promises to kill over 250 weed varieties and yet leave the grass untouched (ah! just as nature intended).

Inside my house, I have a toilet that needs a new float mechanism, a bathroom that needs a new sink, and a stove that needs a new burner. I also have a wall in my living room that has been waiting for paint ever since I had a doorway installed and some drywalling done... 2 years ago.

If it weren't for the fact that I like sucking dick, I would SO not qualify for gay status.

Boner-tired!

Have you ever been so tired that you find yourself walking around with half a bone-- and for no good reason?

That was me on Tuesday morning, after I got to work at 4:50 am. For some reason, my dick wouldn't behave and I kept throwing minor chubbies. Naturally I was around people so I had to do the whole casually-hold-my-clipboard-like-a-trapper-keeper-so-as-to-block-said-boneage thing.

Here I thought I outgrew this in high school!

I ascribe it to my body not being fully awake yet. So it was sort of more like a piss hardon, or one of the semis you get when drowsing or napping.

cb doesn't do well when the first digit on my alarm clock reads lower than a 8. If its lower than a 7, I tend to be grumpy. Lower than a 6 and I'm an automaton. Lower than a 5 and I cease all higher brain activity.

the Nazi strikes again

So my little boss (I have two bosses technically... my immediate supervisor whom I'll call "little boss" and the evil overlord whom I'll call "big bossy") came into my office first thing today with a directive coming from Big Bossy. I was directed to remove all "offensive material" from my office.

I asked him, "What, praytell, is this "offensive material"?"

This material, as it turns out, was Happy Bunny.

I had a flip book on my desk of Happy Bunny phrases. My favorite of which was "Since you're gross, shouldn't you be smart?" This evidently qualifies as offensive material in the esteemed robot overlord's eyes (may Allah smile on her forever).

So I removed it.

And then I looked at my Hello Kitty speakers-- could be offensive to Muslims and Hindus... so I took them down.

I also had a Magic 8 ball on my desk (but since this speaks of the Occult, it may be offensive to the christians that I work with, so I took that away too.

Then there was my "Successories" calendar that I put up as a joke. Personally I find these platitudes offensive, so I removed that.

The pictures of the Hurricane's winning the Stanley Cup? Gone. After all, i work with a lot of Red Wing fans... they could be offended by the Canes hoisting the trophy.

I ended up pulling everything down.

And then posting a sign on my door. The sign reads:

Caution! Now entering a sterile* work environment.


And in tiny type at the bottom of the page:
*Any personal items, fun material, and/or instances of individuality should be reported immediately.

Gosh, my ass is SORE!

Sore from bike riding, that is.

I know what all you readers were thinking- and shame on you for that! Dirty-minded perverts, all of you!

Steve and I did some outdoor activities this weekend. We went for a long walk with his dog on Saturday afternoon and let her swim in the lake. (She's a real cutie!) We also did some shopping and errand running (for a bikerack, etc). Grabbed a pizza, watched parts of some shitty movies, and then called it a night.

On Sunday we went for a nice, long bikeride in a nearby state park. Now I haven't ridden my bike in years-- at least not much more than about my neighborhood, and definitely not in the past 9 months. He hasn't ridden much since rehabilitating his leg from a severe break and multiple surgeries. Needless to say the ride was interesting. My legs are fine today, and I didn't get overly winded because I tend to do cardio (even though i'm fat right now). But my ass... wow.

That damn bikeseat bruised my ass bones and my taint something fierce!

As predicted by all you dirty folk, I AM having difficulty sitting today. But not from playing 'hide the sausage'. You will be pleased to note that I did not give up my Poo-terus this weekend as I was initially planning.

It just wasn't the time. Plus, I've been sorta in "exit only" mode for awhile now.

Other than that, the weekend was nice. Not stressful, no binge drinking, got some exercise, etc. But I still haven't managed to purchase a flat screen TV- every time I get close, I talk myself out of it by telling myself there are better ways to spend my money.

And time.