good god this is going to be a long day. my back hurt when i got up this morning, and over the course of today, i have to deal with 1800 cases of wine. i hope we get good temps. i also hope that plenty of people come to the third rev. brim stone's lunar menagerie, monday, dec 15, at the way out club (corner of jefferson and gravois). finally, i hope that you all have a good day, right up till let's say three fourteen. from there on out, you're on your damn own.

i realize that i'm slacking off on my posts, but it has been rather busy at work, what with it being the holiday season and all. i never guessed that people need to drink so much to deal with the holidays. i thought it was just me. it seems that between shopping, eating, family get-togethers, gift giving, and decorating, not to mention the weather, which is the primary reason for all of the holidays this time of year anyway, nearly everyone could stand a quick belt. it's not quite 8 a.m., and i could stand a quick belt right now. if this were a holiday, to hell sith standing, i could sit a long protracted journey into an alcohol fueled fantasy world, filled with bourbon elves and reinbeer. just imagine: one shot for every ornament hung, while slowly working on an eggnog (less the egg and the nog, thanks) and wondering how long it will take dad to crack into the bushmill's we got him for christmas, and if he plans on sharing it this year. a roaring fire, irish coffee, kahlua and milk for the kids, gin and vodka cocktails cooling in the snow, and grandma fortifying her tea with just the slightest nip (of tea).

sweet dreams...

well, i hope everyone had a nice thanksgiving. i did, on the whole, though there wasn't nearly as much drinking as there was the last time we did thanksgiving with suzi's family, two years ago. drinking beer all day and eating so much that drunkenness is next to impossible is a wonderfully gluttonous pastime, but one that can only be practiced a few times a year.

how is it that there are twelve days of christmas, but only seven deadly sins? what are you supposed to do the other five days?

i don't have a whole hell of a lot to say this morning, and you might be asking yourselves, why then must you subject us all to tales of your tedium? to which i reply this. were any of you to endure my version of boredom for even a second, your heart would be cauterized. that's right. i'm not bored or boring, i'm performing a valuable service to all of mankind (which, alongside my other goal to transform as much grain alcohol as possible into water for the health and safety of humans everywhere makes me a pretty indespensable, don't you think?).

the stl can be such a fucking drag.

just a quick post to make everyone jealous... i got to see chris rock live last night, and with about six thousand exceptions, you didn't.

dear god, to be in great britain right now. imagine with me, if you will, a land in which protesters are actually permitted to see the person and/or corporate menace that they have an issue with! real press being given to liberals and consservatives alike! and not one gun in the hands of the populace or the police! if only i had time to pack...

television is proof that the rich hate the poor. keep them pacified. keep them stationary. should the bastards desire information, filter it and spin it and keep them ignorant. keep them thinking that cops brutalizing criminals is reality (as well as people dating for huge sums of money and people eating live insects for smaller sums of money). keep them buying, keep them fat, keep them docile, keep them in wait for the cage rattling that brings forth the spew of ignorance and filth some have the nerve to call patriotism.

i guess i'm a little scathing this morning. the show is tonight...

this is why i'm a sucker...
the man has not been able to (completely) keep me down
i've taken on (video boxing) the heavyweight champ witout a scratch
i've stood my ground against opression, racism, classism, and several other isms
and one little rhinovirus can kick my ass
tad's ride, i'b sick! bud tad's not why i'b a sucker...
i'm posting from work.

i'm such a sucker sometimes, i believe my own bullshit.

coming off of a good rehearsal, i would have to say that the next baskar show is going to rock thy nads off. those of you without nads to rock off, it will rock some of the recently rocked off nads onto you. November 17th, at the way-out club on the corner of jefferon and gravois, nine o'clock, post meridian.

one of our dogs got ahold of a chicken beastbone and some ribs. i think she's going to be ok, but jesus fucking christ.

thank god for republikkkans!
praise jesus for george w. bush, our hero!
may john ashcroft sit at the lord's right hand for all eternity!

if it weren't for those dears at the republikkkan party, we might not have noticed. we might have walked right past, never noticing as the snake bit our collective heel. you see, it seems that the iraqis are much more cunning and evil than we thought. it seems that they have hidden their weapons of blah blah so well, that our boys haven't found them yet! those bastards! however, this is national news, international if the other countries know what's good for them! that's not the shadowy ninja of unamericanism that we need to focus on right now. we need to turn our sights away from iraq, the united states' own highly checkered past, the republkkkan lust for pure power and the ability to overlook any injustice that makes that power possible. thank you, christ the king for showing us the true insidious danger that we need to be protected from. it seems that those hate-mongerin demokkkrats have been talking about our boys apparent inability to find the afore mentioned blah blah anywhere in iraq! for shame how can you scandal-sowing enemies of freedom do such a thing when what your country needs is for you to shut up and take it like a man? (that goes for you in the bleeding heart bleeding monthly set too! take it like a man for your country!) our friends and protectors have always kept us safe before, right? remember when the averted the crisis of the philandering president? or when they saved us from that guy in the middle east, the one with the mustache? remember?

thank god for demokkkrats...!

well, it's four thirty on a friday, and here i sit at the office. suzi has the car so that we can get the various inspections we need to renew our plates. needless to say, she is the responsible one in the marraige.

i'm pretty fucking hungry right now, having skipped lunch and then labored manually most of the afternoon. i realize hunger primarily when i have time to, but i feel fairly certain that other people can tell when i'm hungry before i can. one example might be you, who as you read this blog, feel that i'm making even less sense than usual. you'd be right of course, as hunger is the only way i know of (apart from strong drink or drugs) to elicit from me such a stream of consciousness type piece of writing.

i'd better eat something soon.

i'm shockingly awake right now, but also shockingly uninspired to write about anything but politics. i write entirely too much about politics, so i think i'll save you all the bourbon of hearing from me ramble on and on about how i feel toward republikkkans one more time (no, i didn't say bourbon, you should get your eyes checked or something, rummy).

(sigh)

it's seven thirty; do you know where you are?

shouldn't i be tired an hour earlier?
I sure enough wanted a beer earlier
i awoke earlier
i ate earlier
we've wrested that extra hour back
for now

bastards karamazov at rev. brim stone's lunar menagerie #2 nov 17, at the way out
be there and be square
we don't care, we're suave and debonair
you're the fucking square

i'm feeling a little bit revolutionary again...
why can't we travel to and trade with cuba at this point? does it not stand to reason that without the support of a more global form of communism, that cuba is on the downward slope? isn't it fairly obvious that cuba will no longer be can no longer be a castro-ist communism without castro? how old is that guy, anyway, 106 or something? let's open it up, smoke some fine cigars, draft some new cardinals, and reap the benefits of a remarkable drug and medical therapy industry.
who know what evil lurks in the hearts of government? not even the shadow can fathom that much...

i think of myself as a baseball fan (at least for the past two or three years), but who do i cheer for in this world series (which i have yet to watch one game of)? on principle, i would root for the mormon tabernacle choir over the yankees, but, then again, teal has no place in the world of professional sport (nor national or municipal flags, houses, men's clothing, kitchen appliances, or high technology products). For similar reasons, i cannot support the charlotte hornets, though they are the closest basketball team to the land of my birth.
so, i guess, in this particular case, i'll just have to cheer for freak meteorilogical conditions. go, asteroids!

I heard a country song on the radio in the warehouse the other day (not by choice, mind) that set my blood a-boil. (very quickly, let me clarify. i don't mean country like patsy cline, johnny cash, or hank williams sr., but rather modern country, which i call the nash-vegas sound. the nash-vegas sound is really just boring tempo rock and roll with a twang that it shouldn't have. either play real country, or switch to rockabilly, or shift a little and be alt-country. don't just stand there scratching your balls and be proud of how much of a ignorant redneck you are.)
anyway, the song included the line (forgive me if i paraphrase) "and you say we don't have to worry about bin laden, have you forgotten?" then went on to sing the joyous prasies of our war in iraq and the ongoing struggle to gain order there. and goddamn it, i haven't forgotten anything from the eleventh of september. i was against going to war before we did, and still think it was a bad idea. i think most people are beginning to agree with me now that we've discovered no weapons of anything more than individual destruction. i still want to see the trial of osama and anyone else related to the fateful day, but i don't like everything else that goes on in the name of "homeland security." i imagine the fbi already has a file on me for the seditious statements i make here, and john ashcroft probably thinks me a treasonous anti-american, but i'm more american than he is, because i still believe in the things that this country was born in. give me liberty, or give me death, motherfucker.

I'm really over this thinning hair thing. every time i wash my hair, i come up with enough hair entwined in my fingers to weave a barbie wig. i still have a good amount of coverage, but not nearly enough depth. the particularly anoying part is that almost no one in my family has ever lost ther hair. my great-grandfather had three types of cancer (two of which he beat) and a full, unruly, and snowy mane. my grandfather (his son-in-law) had quite a forehead, which made him appear to have a receding hairline, but i've seen the pictures, so unless it started receding when he was not quite yet a pre-teen, i'm pretty sure that's just the way he looked. here it is, 2003, and I, product of the best genes eastern tennessee hill folk have to offer, and given an hour, i could count all of the hair i have left in slightly over an hour.

and yet i could shave every day. sometimes i think there is a god, and that he's just a fucking clown with a seltzer bottle.

well, since ahnold is gov., perhaps i should officially anounce my running for prez in 2016. you should really vote for me. true, i don't have any movies out, but just wait, fucker,

well, the show was a success. we were apparently the most entertaining part of the variety, though our performance nerves did tend to speed us along too much. I broke character three times during one sketch, but that sketch was a whole lot of me talking.

this is an astounding week of work. we're taking in wine at an unbelievable rate, and moving it out not quite so fast, but still at a good healthy pace. i, like suzi, will be glad when this week is over.

this post has no humor. at not quite 8 am, neither do i.

so the show is tomorrow. this will be the first performance of baskar, and as such, i am drinking guinness. also, as such, i am drinking, otherwise it may be difficult to sleep.

it's really hard to look cool carrying 20 sheets of posterboard.

all hallows eve fast approaches. back home in the bible belt, my mom's church (theone i used to go to) holds a biblical themed costume thing where they give away candy to the kids. some costume ideas i wanted to see.

one of lot's virgin daughters accompanied by the men of sodom

the kids who got mauled to death by (divinely inspired) bears for making fun of elijah's bald head

barabas

judas and his 30 piece silversheckel orchestra

non-southern baptists burning in hell

at least then, they'd have got the spirit of the celebration right, if not the message.

he just could't resist a terminator reference, could he?

i think that everyone in this country would have a better day if they talked to at least one australian a day. seriously, they always seem to be having a pretty good time themselves, and even if they aren't, do you have any idea how hard it is to sound depressed in that accent? did crocodile dundee ever sound upset? just try it. make up a word that sounds like australian slang (try to use a "ch", a "wah" and no less than two z's; it's a piece of fucking cake). now say it, out loud. now say "good onya!" now look out your window at the passerby who have stopped to watch you (aka some lunatic) talking to yourself. don't you feel better already?

well, the wedding was pretty cool, all things considered. i got to give my mother away, which was something of an odd experience (well, i "brought her to marraige," which is the decidedly more enlightened way to put it).

haven can say my name.

the show is less than a week away, and i can't get ahold of tomatohead. nonetheless, baskar reigns supreme, or will this coming monday night, 9 to midnight at the way out club.

jury duty was mind numbing. the only thing that made it moderately appealing was that there was absolutely nothing appealing about it, at all. in no way.

oh yeah.

we've been a week now without the man in black. the world is a colder, darker place, and a new ghost rider has been added to the sky, but i hope this one is drunk on the finest sour mash and driving around in a '55 caddy, chasing the angels back to where they belong. rest in relative peace, johnny.

server problems seem to be fixed.... for now.
today, suzi and i are going to drive down to tennessee (well, tonight, rather) so that we can see my mom get married. i must say i'm not exactly thrilled by the prospect, and i really wish she had given me a little bit more lead time so that i could have bought us some reasonably priced plane tickets (though they are a little hard to come by for knox vegas). i really hate flying, but at least it would be over in less than two hours, as opposed to the eight hour commitment that we have ahead of us. i still need to change the oil in my car, so that pushes the leave time that much further back. i am taking off from work early, but even that is somewhat dependent on what all there is to do here today. fortunately, fridays are usually a slow day around here, so i don't think that will complicate things too much. listen to me, just bitching away, without getting to the real problem. i can think of any number of men i would rather my mom marry than rick. there, i've said it. now that it's said, i hope they are very happy together, and i hope everything goes well for them both.
there had better be some good damned drugs in tennessee. that's all i'm saying.

well, we move shufflingly hobbled into the new over-technologified future...
we just installed a server at work so that the kansas city branch could access our files remotely, and it has been nothing but trouble from the get-go. needless to say, of course, not one of the people who i work with, myself included, is highly computer literate. the consultant who we called in, as seem most consultants, was virtually useless in explaining anything to us in english, spanish, turkish, or anything that didn't sound like binary code to me. further, since most consultants tend to assume their own godhood, he didn't seem to fathom anything wrong with the system, and yet error messages by the virtual truckload have been unceremoniously dumped on our virtual doorstep, leaving us no recourse but to put on our virtual galoshes and slog through the virtual muck. virtual clusterfuck, anyone?

this is dumb government.

the alcohol and tobacco taxation division rejected one of our labels because it included in the text on the back the word "potent". they were afraid that this might lead people to believe that it had "intoxicating qualities" or some such nonsense. who, especially from the board for alcohol and tobacco, could ever think that the average american would think that a wine might have intoxicating properties?

sometimes i wonder what the percentage of idiots is in all of human life. i'm thinking 96, 97%, but it's probably way higher.

come see the bastards karamazov performing live and intermitently monday sept29 at the way out.

i'm shameless, i know, but what can i say. i want the bodies in the room so i don't feel so crazy talking loudly in various accents.

i'm never sure if my blogs are going to post anymore. anyway... about the marraige thing... i was having chest pains today. i think they may have been brought on by the fact that my mom is marrying a racist. i mean, really, what are the odds. my mom is getting married in the south. my stepdad is going to be a racist. most of my family is racist. my mom is probably more prejudiced than she would ever let me know. i'm not saying it's ok, but my mom is a grown woman. she can do what she wants. i hope they're very happy.

oh yeah. tomatohead wanted me to tell everyone that there is a show coming up for the bastards karamazov. we're the comic relief in a sort of a closed mike. call it a semi-intellectual variety show, if you will. poets, prose writers, a film-maker, and more. including, of course, baskar. bkz. three names already, and this is our first gig. we'll see what sticks. if anyone wants to come, or knows anyone who might want to come, or wants to tell any strangers about it, the show is at the way out club way out club (i never know how to imbed a link, so i hope this works) on jefferson south of 44 from 9 to midnight monday september 29th. i dont think they mention the show at this posting, but hopefully theywill son, and if not, at least you can get directions. we really would like you all to come, but since i'm pretty sure there are no readers of this blog living in this city, i'm not counting on it. in fact, if anyone at the show is there because they read it here, please tell me about it during the show. everyone else, you are expected to fly in. and boy, are your arms tired!

so my mother's getting remarried this month. i just found out about this yesterday. if nothing else, i'm glad that i no longer have to say things like "my future stepbrother" and other such bullshit. mom hasn't been married since my dad died in 1985 or '86, so she is obviously a little bit cautious about the whole thing. i'm glad she's cautious, because my stepfather (very soon to-be) can be a bit of an asshole, not to mention a drunk and a bigot. well, we all have our faults, i guess, some larger than others. as long as i never hear haven utter a racist remark, i'm fine with the marraige. honestly, the guy's a diabetic and drinks morning noon and night. i don't much expect him to be out living my mom or anything. i don't know, but i need to get to work. more later.

REVOLUTION! there are more of us than there are of them. every day the middle class come one step closer to bankruptcy. REVOLUTION! the merciless cycle that tells us debt is good must end. your credit limit is not equivalent to your self worth. REVOLUTION! the lies perpetrated by your government must be stopped. the war on terror doesn't require imperialism. INFORM YOURSELF!

i understand that virtually no one who reads this blog needs to be told any of this, but i'm feeling a trifle political this morning. i'll write again soon.

The honeymoon story continues. yeah, even unto this day, this dozenth day of august. (By the way, happy birthday Alissa, yesterday, admittedly, but as a Birthday present, you receive Capital letters. G'head. Try to find any others on this blog.) today, we discovered our phone bill from "da island." seven phone calls. five under five minutes. two hundred fifty fucking dollars. for the love of god. (see, i didn't even give god caps.) i can't even talk about it anymore.

it appears blogger has changed formats since last i posted. as have i. that is correct, ladies and gentlemen, geronimo the damned is now geronimo the married man. other than the ceremonial jewelry (the only that i wear, unless i am feeling saucy and insert my earrings), there is very little change to the man himself. i suppose i should fill anyone in who happens to read this chronicle of laziness.

the wedding was a great success. suzi and i wrote our own vows, and i hought they sounded really good, despite the fact that both of us had hard time getting through them without choking up. nearly everyone who did readings for us had the same problem. it might have been confused for a funeral had not the guests of honor been producing steam from every hole in every garment (have you ever worn a tux in july in st. louis?). everyone invited seemed to have a good time at the affair, and the reception was killer. those attending saw me dance far more than i expect to in the next ten years. they also liked the food (which, perhaps i mentioned, i planned, and the a large extent, cooked). as to the cooking,not that anyone mentioned will actually read this, but mad props (gotta love the cutting edge lingo) to kingston, tee, the chocolate goddess, skipdawg, bill, liz,and anyone else who i may have forgotten. the afterparty was also good, but owing to the long week that my bride and i had leading up to it, we were not as up to party as we migt have hoped. we stayed at the chase park plaza for a cool 240 the night of the affair, and now i must say that i would like to live there. alas, i am neither rich nor connected.

the honeymoon, scheduled to begin on monday and end the following sunday, met neither expectation. due to misinformation from our travel literature, we were unable to leave the country without a notarized copy of my birth certificate. we made it t saint martin/sint maarten on tuesday, hungry, tired, and dying for a smoke, the latter of which we were able to take care of right in the airport while waiting to claim our bags. thefood was great, the waverunners spectacular, and the two hour long timeshare presentation only a little annoying. we went snorkling, swimming, sunning, sinning (oh, wait, we're married now, i guess it was ok), and then we showered. the sunset on saturday night was so intense that it broke our hearts to ave to leave the next day. we awoke early, both to check out and to make the most of our remaining few hours. with minutes to spare, we arrived at the rental car place to drop our trusty burro off, only to be informed that the airport was close, so we might as well keep the car. we checked right back in (they were kind enough to comp us a free night) and found out that a volcano three or four islands away (monserrat) had discharged an enormous quantity of ash into the air, making visibility at any altitude but ground level zero. monday, the ash had settled to the level that it was clogging the jet engines and further delayed us another day. everyone at the airport was bitching about the delay to any airline employee who came within shouting distance, and it was only through the calm that i was experiencing from spending a week on a tropical island that i was able to refrain from lighting both passengers and their luggage aflame.

i'm getting tired, so, more to come.

suzi is on her way back from texas, where she went to see her cousin get married. we are getting married inside of two weeks. i miss her. my bachelor party was pretty fun, i guess.

sorry about the low-key semi-depressed tone. i am a social creature and with suzi out of town, i haven't been feeling too social this weekend. i have had to drink myself to sleep (which differs from most of the time in that i usually just drink until i sleep. i haven't realy been eating well, because i cannot bring myself to cook a good meal for just me. jesus i'm pathetic.

i have been to tennessee and back again, this time with suzi's mom and little sister (and suzi as well, of course). highlights include:

-eight hour drive at speed limit turns into ten hour drive at 40mph, due primarily to rain, fog, and the odd hundred fify foot drop off of the side of the highway.
-suzi goes to bridal shower. i go to todd's.
-suzi gets her final fitting for wedding dress. i drop my aunt off at a kenny chesney concert.
-suzi and i go to laura's house, watch family guy with laura and todd.
-eight hour drive at speed limit takes seven hours at eighty.

why i even tell anyone about the details of my life, i don't know.

my cousin adamn droped out of my wedding party. he was to be a groomsman, but now it will be my cousin josh. adamn didn't bother telling me or anyone else that he didn't think he could come. it's ok, it would've been like frankenstein's monster out for a night on the town.

well, i don't know why my last post is not ere, but rest assured, you one or two people who still occasionally check the status of this lifelog, i did not go over a month without posting. my last entry concerned mainly the visit that my mother and grandmother made in honor of suzi's bridal shower. my little brother will be extraordinarily cute in a tux. he will officially be my little brother on the 27th of next month.

i have been staying off the grass lately, and i think it has helped my typing skills immensely (of course i just made two typos in that last sentence, well three now). my spelling, however, continues to deteriorate. i was proud in childhood of my spelling ability, which was then only furthered by being forced to take latin for two years in middle school, but has since gone downhill. since the advent of spellcheck, i no longer see the point. anything important enough to be spelled correctly should also be typed, as my handwriting, though legible and (i think) pretty cool, is not exactly going to win any penmanship awards, even if i tried to pass it off as the work of a second grader.

wedding preperations are in full swing. we ordered our rings yesterday and finalized what we are going to do for the ceremony. we have one hundred invitations completed but for the adressing, the guest list cut down as much as we could manage, and at least an idea for the menu, which i am going to be handling by my masochistic self. i have help, of course, but i am still going to have to work my ass off (a good thing, since i have been foolishly missing kitchen work).

danny is moving to chi-town. jordan might be too. skip is moving across town to chesterfield. in two months, i might have one friend that i'm not married to.

we may have killed the bastard today, but the war must go on. we haven't made election year yet. at this point, i'm starting to think that we should make that election season, as in three months, but perhaps tha would lead to big government.
goddamn, i can't type right now. my fingers are too cold, i suppose.

re: last damned: it turns out we did retreat some, but they couldn't tell us for fear that we would give away our position to the iraqis.

we changed positions in relation to bagdhad three times. perhaps i should say locations instead of positions. most of us have retained our positions since before there was a war. i personally still hate the idea, but i hate the reality even more. anyway, early this morning, we were fifty miles away from the capital of saddam's evil oily terrorist communist dictatorship. later in the day, we were as close as twenty to twenty-five miles from the epicenter of torture and baby-eating. around five thirty, central time (six thirty, god's time), we were thirty miles from the hellhole of misery and pain and freedom-hatred and violence and brutality that is Husseingrad in two places, and yet (and yet) there was no mention of any retreat on our part.

i'm not saing that this whole thing is a Wag the Dog, but think of this. it only takes one truth to hide ten lies. for every confirmed p.o.w. whose parents are trying to be brave for the cameras, how many untruths are perpetrated on the masses?

too damn political. i can't fucking help it. kingston and i threw a frisbee around in the warehouse today. the news was on, but i didn't care for the first time in weeks.

how can pbs piss me off?

by airing a two hour or more (i missed the beginning) documentary on the history of the iraqi conflict that could have been written by a republikkkan igno-mancer (let's translate that to spin doctor speech writer secretary of state), that's how (isn't my command of proper sentence structure staggering!?).

i really need to kick my news habit. i watch or listen to approximately five hours every day. most days i have a mild rage at the state of world affairs bubbling in my stomach. this is interspersed with periods of volcanic eructations of molten spleen at hearing the latest news about the war, or the president, or the economy, or john goddamned ashcroft. by that i mean i yell at the radio a lot. also the tv. and ... the laptop. i'm so ashamed.

i promised myself i wouldn't post my anti-government rants on the web anymore, so i'll stop now, but let me just add this...




THERE IS AN AGENDA BEING ENACTED UPON YOU AT ALL TIMES. BILL GATES IS IN ON IT. MICHAEL EISNER IS IN ON IT. MICK JAGGER IS IN ON IT. SO ARE RAY ROMANO, AUGUST A BUSCH III, JESSE VENTURA, AND THE ULTIMATE WARRIOR.
YOUR LIFE IS YOUR OWN, AND THE GOVERNMENT ONLY PROTECTS YOU FROM OTHER GOVERNMENTS.

MY throat is pretty sore now. can't believe this old soapbox held my weight.

i can't believe i got a mention on the new topography (see link to left... imbedding one takes time for a computer illiterate cro-magnon like myself).

i hope that the new topographer feels better soon. she's so hella hella cool, it's like icyhot.

i can't believe it's not butt. if there hasn't been a pornographic film with that title, i'll eat your hat. you'll need to mail it to me.

a new delivery driver has been hired. his name is andre. he seems pretty cool. i gave him an altoid tangerine sour and he looked at me as though i'd told him legos were candy corn.

i hope i'm not the only one who used to have candy corn fights the day after halloween. not fighting over, but with, for those who didn't.

surprise, surprise, sur-motherfucking-prise. i'm pretty sure i invented that. if anyone can prove otherwise, i'm expecting a call, or maybe just a bullet to the back of the head.

well, my pot-smoking friend (and technically, subordinate) got fired today. i really hate losing people that i like to work with, especially for stupid reasons like failing a drug screen.
rich people really creep me out. i had to deliver to the st. louis club today, and it was like a fucking high-rise crypt. i had to check in with security. i also had to find the fucking place, which occupies the top three floors of an office building across the street from where suzi, the new topographer, tigra, jordan, and i all used to work. to think, they were so close, but i never knew. that explains the frequent chills i got in the hot ass kitchen.
or maybe that was all the heroin.

the irregularity of my writings in this little open cranial window has become apalling. some thoughts on recent events.

my half birthday, february 14th, has come and gone again. no one got me anything, but suzi and lw both wished me a happy half birthday. i don't expect people to celebrate my half birthday with me unless it's in protest of the certain other over-commercialized greeting card manufactured chalk heart chomping candy and rose buying spending up all your money in one futile gesture of materialistic affection event that also takes place february 14th.

i am worried that the guy i work with, cliff, isn't taking his drug test seriously. he's given himself a week to clean up. even taking the detox stuff i gave him, i still have to wonder...

i hate being sick. yesterday i was at the grocery store to pick up some essentials. i was there for over an hour, and it would seem that i was named official crazy dude talkin to himself; i think i saw him looking for a bag of frozen breasts. to my credit,this store was all kinds of ass backwards. you walk in, then take a left? what kind of world are we living in? why is the bread nowhere to be found (atleast not near produce, where it should be), why does the meat keep going around a blind corner, and why in the name of god does a store with no more than ten linear feet of shelf space for crackers need a complete aisle, left and right of ICE CREAM!!!! it's not that i don't like ice cream, but seriously, people, aren't y'all fat enough? aren't I?

that'll do. dismissed.

i have realized that the last entry made a jump that many of my three readers could not understand. my friends do not labor for a living. i lift things and get paid for it. i also can't type that well, so this is the whole of this entry.

ladies and gentlemen, the test is over and the debauchery is just begun! after indulging all weekend in all of my remaining vices, i returned to work, somewhat dazed and with a belly-full of yogurt. anyone who knows me well knows that this is perhaps the fourth time in my life that i have eaten yogurt. the strawberry chips and nestle crunch beads helped it a great deal, but it still didn't serve as a satisfying breakfast. how is it that you, you, yogurt eaters out there do it? the stuff can be tasty, sure, but a breakfast? oh, right. everyone who reads this blog uses their gifted minds in ways best suited to their talents. i don't have any. that's right. i forgot.

so, apart from some respect i might have for his guitar playing, i have always thought of pete townshend as one of britain's most tourist attractive assholes. and now, perhaps, he is also a pedophile. i still have nothing against the who (except perhaps casting elton john in tommy), but i find the whole situation to be sickeningly amusing. talking about your generation, pete, sexual repression does have a tendency to break out in later life, you know. perhaps grown up porn is too costly, and child porn is the real bargain. it's a substitute for a normal sex life.
i hope that this whole thing is not true, but only because child pornography is disgusting. i hope that our boy pete goes to gaol just for being a dick.

i like my job. i like the people i work for and with. why, then, oh why, do i find it all so boring?

i should just be glad to have a job in this troubled economy. ask anyone who knows me and they will tell you that i have an entense hatred for all things govern-mental. republikans, being slightly worse than demokrats, have been my subject of ranting for these past two years. how is it that the poor are fooled by dictatorship wearing a common man disguise? since when did trickle down economics work? how can a tax cut help the american people or the government if the government is throwing money hand over fist into a possibility of war that no one will drastically benefit from?

enough of that. on the bright side, i get to take my drug test soon, so i will be able to return to my less than wholly law abiding ways relatively soon.

peace, love, and devil worship, y'all.

today, after my van was loaded up, i made my first solo trip into the wilds of west county. for that matter, it was my first solo delivery run for pinnacle, but that's neither here nor there. i got lost a total of four times on five stops. i made six phone calls from the company cellular phone (only one was to home; suzi isn't feeling well and had to call in to U City high today) and only one was while moving (an act which i condemn in others, so those of you with phone and cars, be warned). i unloaded forty-two cases of wine by myself for a st louis retailer, only to be informed that the asshole blocking my path to be closest to the door was the store's owner. i returned to the warehouse to have nothing to do, so i made space for things coming in on monday at a decidedly leisurely pace. my trip home took an hour and forty-five minutes because of traffic, having to stop at the store, and a delivery that i foolishly volunteered for.

the moral of the story is...........
Shut your damned mouth........ and never volunteer (appy-polly-logies to harry harrison)

i haven't been posting enough for a certain pixel11 author (or so i'm told), so here is a short post.

work is tiring. i like it well enough, but the days are long. as usual though, my work ethic will carry me through (reminder to those who knew me in school... this ethic only applies when i am being paid).

the drug test has been postponed until the end of the month. self denial while in tennessee, all for naught.

i have had two beers in the last four days, a new record since before i began drinking beer.

the bastards karamazov may produce a cd before they actually ever perform.

that is all for the moment...

well, damn. it seems that i have not posted in two weeks. how the time flies when one has gainful employment.

happy new year, to all. let's see, some late 2002 highlights...
-i did not pass my drug test. the boss called me into his office that fateful friday morn to show me the paper that had been faxed to him that morning. he told me that he was not bothered by my lack of passing, but that i would not be able to drive a van by myself until i passed one. this put a grin on my face the size of a canteloupe for the rest of the day. i get another chance, and for those who might care, i have not indulged since the night after i found this news out (a sort of last hurrah, if you will.)
-the guy that i was to replace in the new year quit before he could be fired. we don't know the full reasons why, but he did manage to take three hundred dollars worth of wine on his way out the door. it was a strange scenario, to say the least.
-the very next day, i got to put my immense forklift operating skills to good use. having trained to use a forklift (meaning joyride and try not to break anything with the forks) as a wee lad in my mother's produce market, they felt i was emminently qualified for the job. it was pretty fun, though still not as good as hotwiring a bobcat with a chainsaw tool with schaf and rutweasl.
-christmas at suzi's parents was fun. i drank for twelve hours straight, but never succeeded in actual drunkenness. funny how well my liver functions sometimes, but convenient the next day at work, i can tell you.
-haven has approximately ten teeth, which he grinds as though he is looking forward to dentures. he bites now, but not me. he is still cuter than he was before, a phenomenon i cannot yet understand.
-for christmas i received four fleece pullovers and the only sweater that i have ever really liked. also, a food processor, so we can take that off the wedding registry.
-my friends at home are well, or at least as well as can be expected. my best tennessee friend's mom gave me some xanax to get through my non-smoking spell. if only my mom did more drugs... (sigh)
-new years eve was a little anticlimactic, but perhaps all the better for it. i felt relatively good today, especially after sleeping until eleven.
-there is more ice falling from the sky, meaning i will have a lot of fun driving the twenty miles to work tomorrow. woo hoo.

tune in next time for the next exciting installment of... the life and times of a twenty four year old with more brains than sense!