i like ranting about politics. i love baseball. it would seem to stand to reason that i would like the congressional hearings on steroid use in mlb a lot more than i do. instead, i can't stop thinking about what a waste of congressional time and taxpayer money this is. no, i don't think that baseball players should use steroids, and i don't think anyone who does should have a chance to get into the hall of fame. i think baseball itself needs some serious internal work to make it more enjoyable for everyone instead of purely profitable. this kind of thing is the reason for the commisioner of major league baseball and all of the various functionaries therein.
baseball is called america's pastime. i've never heard of a time when that meant the government needed to take a hand in straightening out the kinks. if there were sport that the government were going to take an interest in, one would think that it would at least be international (and don't even talk to me about canada; if our world series were truly open to the world, we damn sure wouldn't win it every year). does the house of commons ever interfere with british league football? does the king of spain ever overturn a jai alai final? of course not. i'm not calling for a separation of sport and state, i just don't want to pay for it.
this is all because that jerk-off is a former team owner, isn't it? is that what he means by "ownership society?" fuck bush with a louisville slugger (i'm sure there's at least one slugger from louisville willing to take one for the team like that. or rather, give one for the team.)

well don't i feel like the advertisement whore...
i just sent out a bunch of e-mails (all individually written, not a form letter) to tell people to go to the bastards karamazov website which is going well and has some video posted now. i realize that maybe posting on this blog will garner one more potential surfer, but that's still a reasonable percentage of our total hits. please give it a look, as jah has been working really hard on it, and i for one think it's pretty damned funny.
fuck bush.

well don't i feel like the advertisement whore...
i just sent out a bunch of e-mails (all individually written, not a form letter) to tell people to go to the bastards karamazov website which is gong well and has some video posted now. i realize that maybe posting on this blog will garner one more potential surfer, but thats still a reasonabl percentage of our total hits. please give it a look, as jah has been working really hard on it, and i for one think it's pretty damned funny.
fuck bush.

so apparently we're restructuring our military for constant conflicts that are smaller most of what we've been involved in recently. i'm pretty sure this is just a way to continue naming things after reagan. the fervor has died down somewhat on actually changing the names of stuff (so i don't think we'll be changing the name to the ronald reagan memorial united states army anytime soon), but now it seems we're converting our military to be more in the spirit of our fortieth president. look for anti-communist witch hunts and dictators we put in place to be deposed in a third world country near you!

so, i put a counter down at the bottom of the page, and last time i looked, it had 26 hits in a week, none of them "return visitors." if you are a member of the secret service assigned to monitor this blog, hi! i know that you're only a symptom of the problem, not the problem itself. in times where i like the president (such as 1993-2000), you are there to protect him/her from the nutjobs with guns or whatever tool of harm may come into play. (note: i don't have any guns. i don't even have any pocket knives since i forgot i had one in my pocket at the airport.)
so keep up the good work, secret service person. i'm no real threat, but i hope you at least enjoy what i have to say from time to time.
that said, fuck bush. (blue thirty-one, the eagle is buggered)

the term private parts implies that all other parts are public parts. this is all well and good, but what if you don't like people looking at your teeth?
had a barbecue yesterday. there is a barbecue phenomenon that i can't say i fully understand but i will discuss for just a moment. why is it so hard to get truly drunk at a barbecue? it wasn't my goal last night to get ripped, but i did my fair share of drinking. i had two strong pints of jack and coke, then switched over and had between six and nine beers (i can't say i was counting, except in retrospect). after the jack and cokes, with nearly no food in my stomach, i had a bit of a buzz. after all the beers (consumed between six o'clock and ten o'clock) i still had the same buzz. am i doing something wrong? is my high tolerance for alcohol getting out of hand? should i quit drinking for a while forget i just wrote that, because that won't be happening. i have a doctor's appointment next week for the first time since 1996. if she tells me i'm going to have to stop drinking, i'm going to need a liver. any and all donations are welcome. i'll let you know more next week, but rest assured, any money will go towards the old liver send off party, and any liver segments will be tested for a close enough genetic match.
since this post has been personal and rather apolitical, showing a gentler, more introspective geronimo, bush can go make tender love to himself. and carl rove.

you and i'll be broke when we get old
thanks to our pal dubya
we'll never go to war anywhere it's cold
you got to love old dubya

dubya is your only friend
he is your anchor in the wind
his dynasty should never end
(deficits are hard to spend
you jug-eared clown you, dubya)

dubya dubya, yippee-eye-ay
dubya dubya dubya
he'll do you one better'n the cia
(republikkkans'll fuckya!)


(fuck bush with wolfowitz's head. if you need something a little more in depth than this relatively mindless profanity, check out my newest new link. one last thing... first round of mastering for the bastards cd happened this week. 2005 should see the release, though i can't yet be more specific than that - g)

you and i'll be broke when we get old
thanks to our pal dubya
we'll never go to war anywhere it's cold
you got to love old dubya

dubya is your only friend
he is your anchor in the wind
his dynasty should never end
(deficits are hard to spend
you jug-eared clown you, dubya)

dubya dubya, yippee-eye-ay
dubya dubya dubya
he'll do you one better'n the cia
(republikkkans'll fuckya!)

(fuck bush with wolfowitz's head)

ok, very quickly now... i'm a little worried to see the collaboration of george herbert walker bush (my third most hated president of my lifetime) and william jefferson clinton (favorite president of my lifetime). even though they are working for a worthy cause, that bill could be in the same room with that slimy old bastard is beyond me...
fuck bush (take your pick)

rest in peace, dr. thompson. pistols and wild turkey can make for a good afternoon, but this time they have taken someone who will be missed. way to not fade out, you gonzo son of a bitch.

first of all, we got our dsl set up last night. i imagine that means you can expect more posting, at least for a little while. however, since i do most of my posting at work, there are no guarantees on that.
second, anytime you hear a republikkkan say good for the economy, that means "good for several of my ceo friends/parents/children/cousins/spouse." to be fair, virtually anytime you hear a demokkrat say good for the economy, that means "good for my smaller corporate interest, which, though ostensibly ethical and even giving back to the community from time to time, is actually built on the backs of malaysian children, most of whom have lost fingers and even arms to the capitalist machine."
that's an awful lot of meaning to cram into one four word phrase.
see how much meaning you can get out of this four word phrase: fuck bush (faster/harder).

quitting smoking is fucking hard. i'm going through ten or more tea tree toothpicks a day now (day five). i have yet to commit an act of violence or destruction. siouxs! and i have not been in any serious arguments. i have made no sweeping apathetic proclamations like "i just don't care about anything anymore."
the sad thing is, all of these statements add up to success.
fucking tobacco bastards. why can't we use tobacco like, let's say the native americans, for ceremonial purposes (or whatever, i don't really care). if everyone made a big deal out of every cigarette/cigar/pipe/chaw/dip they ever had, then the tobacco bastards would be a lot less powerful.
fuck bush.

i have an idea. let's cut the budget of everything domestic. education? of course we don't need that. all of the important kids are going to private schools anyway. if the poor aren't ignorant, how can they be ground under the heel of society? healthcare. now that just has to go. bunch of medicaid/medicare freeloading beggars, everyone's looking for a handout these days just because they're "old and on a fixed income" or "broke." just because their "health problem" keeps them from getting a "job." try harder, you whiners.
i've got another great domestic black hole we can stop throwing money into. let's cut back the cabinet. let's see how high ranking government officials do when forced to live on twenty grand a year. let the senate have a five thousand dollar deductible and need a new gallbladder. with great wealth comes great power, but let's change that. how about this: we'll borrow and idea from monks of all stripes and religions. you want power, influence, if you want people to listen to your every word, take a vow of poverty. live simply and be no more harmful a parasite than absolutely necessary. i'll bet we could have a better class of politician in inside of a week.
god, fuck bush.

it's bloody cold, and it's just going to get colder. dubya is working to guarantee the economic collapse of the united states during our lifetimes. we just got a new secretary of state who will be loathed world-wide, despite being both black and a woman. we are trading a privacy invading police state style attorney general for one who thinks torture is not without some value. we are currently fighting a war for the continuation of entrenched power (in our country) on foriegn soil that has little to nothing to do with its expressed purpose. said country is about to hold elections which will put a nice shine of democracy on virtual anarchy and power grabbing. americans have already mostly forgotten about 150,000 dead in asia (including myself) due to the sheer scope of the tragedy. if i were a religious man (which i'm not), i just might say that the world was coming to an end. i won't, but i expect to see a paradigm shift in the next fifty or so years that will catch all of the blind followers of this country by surprise.
sorry this post is such a drag, but world affairs don't tend to be sweetness and light. keep the faith (if it makes sense), viva la revolucion, and fuck bush.

i don't have much time, so i'll keep this very brief. this inauguration day, do something good for your country. you don't even have to kill anyone. simply remind friends and family of what will prove to be w's legacy: the end of the united states of america. whether we are deposed by the dispossessed, or taken over by fascists from within, we will never be the great country we have been at various points in our history, ever again.

it's been a new year of hard partying so far, with as yet no restful relaxing weekend to recoup and recharge, but i can't say that i am regretful. siouxs! and i quit smoking, not as a new year's resolution, but just because. we're not one hundred percent by any means, but this should really be the year that we get shut of it once and for all. damn the tobacco bastards.
this should prove to be an eventful year. siouxs!'s sister moves to bean town today, and by the end of the month, howler monkey is going to have to spend an extended stay in the waters of lake minnetonka. rynomite is back in town, and tomatohead is coming for a visit soon. personal social upheaval isn't my strong suit, so i'm not exactly looking forward to the changes the coming year will bring, but for once, i will try to remain optimistic. on rare occasion, optimism proves founded.
nonetheless, fuck bush.

i really hate this fucking holiday, so i'll make this brief. i wish all of my friends a joyous day off, festival of lights (i know it's over, but when have i ever been on time for that sort of thing?) or whatever you may choose to call it for yourselves. for a set of holidays based on the idea that drinking is good when it's cold outside, this has really become a juggernaut of capitalism. so screw that. (if you are reading this blog, most likely) i love you all, and be sure to pass on my vindictive spite to those who deserve it. i suppose, as long as you're passing things along, you can pass the aforementioned love to those who deserve it, those who will be expecting it, or even those who you think i might enjoy the company of.
happy birthday, killer robot jesus. luke warm, the b-list porno star, see what your godson hath wrought.

good god it's cold. reminds me of christmases of yore, spent by someone else in a siberian prison camp. those were the days, eh? do you remember when you weren't in a siberian prison camp? then count your blessings. also, count them if you aren't living in the goddamned mid-west, where the wind from way over vladivostok comes to wait out the winter.

truly, my aspirations to power aren't that great. all i want is a quiet life, away from the hustle and the bustle, where i can kick back, relax, and occasionally perform all of the duties required by my newly appointed position, secretary of rum based cocktails. i'll even accept minister of rum based cocktails, since my patriotism might be made mutable by a beach and enough rum. and a hammock. the hammock is key.

gthedamned would like to offer congratulations to the chocolate goddess of love for her stunning performance on law and order: svu last eve. she made ice t look like a punk. (please, ice t, if you are a gthedamned reader, please don't come and kick my ass. i have nothing but respect for you ice t, but you've been famous for years, while my sister is just getting started in that department.)

we're proud of you, girl

thanksgiving is my second favorite holiday between halloween and the fourth of july, both of which are really just excuses to fuck with people. having said that, i had a pretty good thanksgiving, but nothing too exciting. everyone in knox vegas seems to have the flu, either transmitted by my baby brother or otherwise. haven was certainly the highlight of the trip, though the hanging around getting buzzed with mom and siouxs! comes in a fairly close second (and as long as i keep ranking things, seeing tr ricks playing football, however briefly they let me watch, was pretty sweet as well). the drive down could've been worse, but could've been better as well.
ok, just a brief political rant. it seems that bush and his bushies are still trying to stop the use of medicinal marijuana for cancer and aids patients at a federal level, since now ten states allow it. the logic is that marijuana is bad for you, so therefore any potential benefits should be overlooked. what happened to your funda-mentalist christian folderol, dubya? god made the weed. he also made a lot of other things that are bad for us, but very few of them are illegal. there are quite a few deadly mushroom species, and rattlesnakes are poisonous as well. bears and pumas have killed a few people in this country, why aren't they illegal? oh yeah, what's that other thing that you smoke that it turns out is bad for you? that stuff your buddies grow? no, not crack, your c.i.a. buddies haven't yet figured out a way to "grow" that. i'm talking about your good ol' buddies phillip and r.j.
you know who i mean. they're the ones who seduced so many of us into sucking on a toxic, cancer-causing agent and fooled us into thinking if they put some fiberglass on one end, it wasn't as bad.
man, i could use a smoke.

quiet and sad weekend. to those who wonder why, give a call or an e-mail, and i'll fill you in. much love to all who know already, and thank you for your love and support.
more smartassed bullshit coming soon, but just not today.
g

i almost forgot

http://www.bastardskaramazov.com/

many thanks to tomatohead. bookmark it now, and beat the rush for the video clips and such.

fuck bush.

sometimes i hate both my home town and my adopted home. it isn't about the residents, though there are certainly plenty in both who put me of a murderous mind. it isn't the st. louis' flat horizon or the knox vegas ssslllooowwwwwnnnnnneeeeesssssssss, though each of those things is enough reason to want to move. the problem is airports. since st. louis is no longer a hub, cheap flights to lesser cities are hard to find. if either of my two claimed homes were more of a destination, the whole process of flying home for a holiday would be easier. as it is, my cheapest option is a flight to houston, connecting to chicago, and then, provided i can figure out how to go back in time while at o'hare, then to nashville, where someone (like my mom) would have to drive two and a half hours to meet us, then two and a half hours back home. i can drive there faster than that.

check out the chocolate goddess of love's website.

fuck bush.

this fuckin' country.

be ready to expatriate or run from the police on a moment's notice. i've been saying that gay marraige was a distraction technique all along, but did anyone believe me? well, yes, some did, then promptly forgot and started back in on it. of course gay people should be able to get married, or have civil unions, or have their life commitments recognized in some way by our government, but see what happens when some very clever gay republican (yes, there are a few) manages to make it an issue. the hicks turn out in droves (and believe me, there are a lot of hicks in this country. try to otherwise explain the popularity of "blue collar tv" "git 'er done" redneck jackass). whenever the hicks turn out in these kinds of numbers, bad things happen (see the civil war).
furthermore, if any of you eighteen to twenty-six-year-olds that i know didn't vote on tuesday, i'm coming to slap the bong out of your hand and beat you with a bible as a taste of what we're in for in the next bush presidency. you don't have to vote the way i do (though you probably will), just vote, slack-ass.

siouxs! and i joined the neighborhood rec plex/gym. i had forgotten i had "lats," but now they are reminding me of their existence.

happy birthday, tomatohead. i hope seattle is treating you right.

fuck bush.

florida, i love you, but you always fuck shit up...
they're already trying to steal the election, and it's still four days away. there's all this fraud and scandal with their stupid absentee ballots already. and in the great state of misery, neither siouxs! nor i have received our voter registration cards yet. does anyone know a good lawyer?

go cards 2005!
congratulations to red sox fans, red sox, and everyone else, either red or sox related. let's keep this boston momentum going. go kerry! win the pennant!

i just had a post dissapear into the void...
i blame the fbi
fuck bush

how the hell did the cardinals go from being two games up to one game behind? roger clemens isn't that damned good.
the new topographer deserves a shout out and a wish of good luck. click the first link to see why.
does anyone know anyone whose voting for w, and are they running off of more than a brainstem alone?
before i forget, fuck bush. fbi, i want to see a copy of my file as per the freedom of information act. then, fuck cheney.

oh yeah, i almost forgot. fuck bush. just fuck him, fucker.

it's hard to be a liberal and a baseball fan. no one who reads this will be all that surprised by any of it, but i have been a pretty die hard bleeding heart weepy eyed tax and spend liberal since the fourth grade. since moving to st louis, i have become a cardinals fan with the fervor of a religious convert (credit that comparison to siouxs!, not me). for game one of the national league series, i was watching the game and listening to the debate, occasionally flipping the channel to check out the american league series. last night, we were fortunate enough to not have to choose. thank you, matt morris, for not doing worse than you did. (knocking on wood 'till my knuckles bleed) cards and kerry: can they go all the way?

bring me the head of ralph nader
that spoiling fucker.
there is a reason that you're not
on (some) ballots, sucker.
(i'm still not a demokrat
nor a republikkkan't
but if the choice was bush or lucifer
i'd be the devil's supplicant.)
third parties are all well
and good, in times of peace
but this is war, us versus them
and we'll stand a chance at least
if we fight together against
our common enemy
a certain huckster, smiling tool
with a monster for a daddy.
so violence may not solve
this third party quandary
but lock ralph n. behind closed doors
and another votes john kerry.

dubya is on the ropes, and yet i'm still worried about the election. perhaps the debate tonight will ease my mind.
the dodgers are on the ropes, and yet i'm still worried about this series. perhaps the game saturday will easse my mind.

the preceding statements represent two thirds of my overall thought for the past few days. the remainder is spent being worried about siouxs!, who has homecoming this weekend to stress her out. i love you. hang in there for two more days, and it will all be better.

dubya is on the ropes, and yet i'm still worried about the election. perhaps the debate tonight will ease my mind.
the dodgers are on the ropes, and yet i'm still worried about this series. perhaps the game saturday will easse my mind.

the preceding statements represent two thirds of my overall thought for the past few days. the remainder is spent being worried about siouxs!, who has homecoming this weekend to stress her out. i love you. hang in there for two more days, and it will all be better.

keep your head up, howler monkey. we're all living weekend to weekend to a certain extent... and if the weekend isn't soon enough, declare a religious holiday and do something fun (one of the bonuses of never stating to anyone, even yourself, anything binding about your religious beliefs).

in related news, the cardinals game yesterday was perfect. great weather (just the perfect amount of cool), cold beer, and an astounding victory with five home runs. no wonder espn thought no one would want to watch our game as compared to the other first round playoff games. motherfuckers.

requiat in pace, Rodney.

oh yeah, and fuck bush.

today is the first day of baseball post season, and i will be there. for anyone who would be, be jealous. anyone who wouldn't, just be happy for me. i'm going to say cardinals 8, dodgers 4. i'm also going to be knocking on a wooden rabbit's foot with my hat on inside out and every crossable digit crossed.

in political news, fuck bush. that's right, fuck him.

he did it! kerry did it! he attacked the right thing! stick and move, stick and move! i don't normally put links in a post, but here. if either one of the people who read this blog haven't had a chance to see or hear this, this is the best i can pull off for the moment. i was trying to find the whole speech in its entirety, but what are you going to do.

our presidential contest is neck and neck,
with candidates spewing lies and dreck.
we must stop our bumpkin warlord,
but the other option leaves me bored.
why a luke warm moderate instead
of a firebrand heart and a cool head.
how about a liberal to rally behind
someone who uses their nimble mind
mass produced choices are a limiting few
(sorry, mr. nader, this job's not for you!)

vote for me, next election, and i'll tell you what
a hybrid car in every garage
and two beers in every gut.
-g

played football with a bunch of guys in their late thirties on saturday. went to the driving range with a certain howler monkey yesterday. my hands feel like oven mitts, and my quads are creaking. god help me, i'm an old man at twenty-six.

i hope that everyone's labor day weekend was as good as mine. i especially hope that the forty plus mosquitos who did their parts in the long standing quest to make it easier for me to get drunk. a note to the red cross... if you see one of those mosquitos, grab the fucker, as she has at least a pint of my at least somewhat rare blood type. a note to the moquitos... i saw you staggering around after you bit me. that'll teach you. also, if one of you fuckers gave me west nile, you'd better hope i die from it, because i've got connections, and i'll find you. (editors note: we here at gthedamned realize that very few if any moquitos will ever read this last bit of rant, if for no other reason than it takes at least fifty of them to turn on the average computer.)

i have been shut of cigarettes for over two weeks now... just so you know.

those god-fearing-god-damned republikkkans are really doing their damnedest to piss me off. voluntary ignorance is right up there on my list of ways to kill any respect i might have. rudy giuliani, mayoral hero of the new republikan moderate movement, has, in one speech, gone from being reasonably respectable to the same sort of lying scum that i had rather hoped he was better than. the quote from his speech at the republiklan rally last night in particular that stuck in my craw was the one that said that our president can see past today, and tomorrow, and into the future. this about a man who had enough foresight to start a war without an exit strategy, and the final determination to say a year and a half ago "mission accomplished" (meanwhile how many have died since then?). if george w. bush has a vision of the future, then he has no vision of either the present or the past. i'm not saying that john kerry is the best choice for our country, but if we let this moronic visionary have another four years, there is no telling how much trouble we'll get ourselves into. you and i are a part of w's vision of the future. we are the help.

sorry to get so political, but it's been quite a while since the blog had this kind of slant, so it just kind of poured out.

just blogging to say welcome back allison and yes, you should sleep with the howler monkey. since the two of you are probably half of my readers, i will say no more...

the management and staff at geronimothedamned would like to thank both of our readers for letting us know that they still care enough to devote several seconds of their time to the cause. from all of us (inside this head) to all of you (outside this head), thank you. it's good to feel loved.

on a different note, tomatohead, aka jordan, is nearing the end of his long journey. here's hoping that seattle is good to him.
in related news, who's to say what's up with the bastards karamazov. initial recordings have been laid down, all that remains are a few more songs and some post production. look for the bastards cd before the end of the year.

business, business, business. hate to say so, but i have to go to work.

i knew it.  nobody cares about poor little g.   (sniffle)  i guess i'll just have to go kill myself or something...

(the above message was intended for ironic purposes only.  had this been real self pity, you can bet your ass it would not appear on this website.  self pity made public is whining, and whining may well require capital punishment when my reign of terror begins.)

the show was a success.  we will try to perform it, in slightly modified form, at another date to be announced.  also, coming soon, bastardskaramazov.com for all of your excited interest and interested excitement.
 
just to fulfill my curiosity, could anyone who actually reads this drivel post a comment?  i know it's a lot to ask, but i would like to know if i am the only one who actually reads this blog.

four days until the comedy event of the summer... the bastards karamazov present a smutcar named deflower at the way out club, tuesday, july sixth. doors at 8:30, show at 9:30.
my anniversary is also this weekend (well, this long weekend). it's hard to believe that siouxs! and i have been married a year already. actually, it's mostly hard to believe that she has put up with my ass for a year of wholly matrimony. to that end, if anyone should see my beautiful bride (or call or e-mail her), congratulate her on her infinite patience. (not to get lost in sentimentality, but) i love you, suzi.

in this time of tumultuous change, there are still a few things that you can count on. one of those things is that the bastards karamazov will have another show. though it is as yet unnamed, the bastards will be performing tuesday, july 6th, at the home of bastard comedy, the way out club, at 9:30 pm. the cover is still only five dollars. five dollars. think of it this way. we're saving you from going to jack'n the box and pushing yourself one step closer to cardiac arrest. we're keeping you off those dirty cigarettes. all proceeds go toward buying the bastards smokes.

ok, honestly, i'm not sure if i have anything to say in this post, but i'll try for the sake of beating my month habit...
the family was in town this past weekend. it was a pretty good time, i must say. we took them to the zoo (however briefly... it was hot out there), the city museum (for the stl uninformed... please visit the city museum sometime, and not just the bar, though that is pretty damned rockin' as well) and dave and busters, where i proceeded to get the whole family hooked on running the ponies (derby owners club... a good way to blow fifty bucks). all and all, it was a good weekend, but i'm still trying to get my brain back up to normal function, and i'm still trying to erase the southern accent that my mom is always kind enough to lend to me when i see her from my speech. seriously, i had less of an accent when i was a kid than i do now.
haven is still the cutest kid in the whole damned world, but is proving to be smart as well. he knew, without being able to read or count (he's two) which was their hotel room from a line of identical doors. he also figured out how to unlock said door from the inside by watching someone else do it once. the kid's a friggin' genius. and so fucking cute it makes you just want to gather bunnies and ducklings, then throw them at other kids.
it's nearly thirty minutes until i have to start work. i should get some work done...

whoa! blogger, what hast thou wrought?! can't say i was ready for a change (which in reality probably took place weeks ago) to the blogging system i know and love. it's thrown me so far off, i almost forgot what i was going to write about. first of all, alissa (see link to the side, but really, if you've ever read my blog, you probably know alissa) was in town last weekend, and st. louis was temporarily a better place. second of all, alissa, you can buy me drinks all you want, but if you dare say it's a repayment for your part of the bar tab at the karaoke bar, i will have to mock you. hard. (seriously, until my fourth aa meeting, i will buy you drinks without a second thought, at least until the bar tab gets into the triple digits).
ok, now the real reason i got on blogspot... i wish i could give you a date, but the new bastards karamazov show is going to be freaking awesome. avante garde, cutting edge comedy that isn't afraid to say what it means, or hit on your mom after a few pitchers of boilermakers. look for us to announce multiple dates at multiple locations. if you or anyone you know owns a bar with a sound system and a stage, let us know. if you or anyone you know likes to get drunk with funny people, let us know that too.

clocking in at just over a month it's...... geronimo! that's right folks. i haven't forgotten either one of you. it's just that i've been so busy lately, what with the kidnapping and all. i mean, like it or not, you gotta feed those hostages every day!
to be honest, i really am only writing this so that i can not write again for another month. i'm not really a diary type person, and i'd usually rather get a laugh in person than hear someone tell me they thought the blog was funny. i wish i could promise more posts, more regularly, but i know that i wouldn't keep that promise. instead, i'll make a promise i know i can keep. (ah-hem) from this point on, i promise that each and every gthedamned post will contain at least one (1) multisylabic word. gthedamened is not responsible for misspellings. for that i would blame the drugs.
until next month, or something pisses me off real good...

the day of a show may cause
-fluttering stomach
-incurable lust for nicotine
-desire to be anywhere but work
-lack of focus
-need to last minute prop shop

needless to say, i am a victim of the above ailment. the show is going to kick ass, but until i hear a good laugh from the audience, i get a shit load of this. if you haven't made plans, you have now. if you have, break them, or better yet, relocate them. nothing makes a romantic moment more special than three overeducated and undercivilized gentlemen of the world poking fun at human foibles and genitalia. come one, come all, bring the kids (just not inside, please). bring grandma. she'll piss herself, and if she can hear well enough, she might just enjoy the show, too!

the kc was a rockin good time, as it turns out. i got to see several old friends, including kingston, the new topographer, and insomnia. to at least the first two listed above, it was spectacularrrr to see you again. (and new t. -- you should steal your dad's car. it looks great on you!)
i really think i should have majored in piracy.
now i have two weeks as acting office manager, since the real one is in new zealand. should prove to be fun, if i can hold my sanity intact.

come see the bastards karamazov one week from tonight at the way out club, 9:30 until they kick us the fuck out.

the bastards karamazov will be performing their first ever live solo show, march 9th at (where else) the way out club on the corner of jefferson and gravois, starts sometime after nine. for details call 781-2464

whoo hoo, i get to go to kansas city. party-time.

let's talk about salt, people. not table salt; that will have to be another rant for another time. no, i mean that modern marvel, road salt. first of all, when the sign on the back of the truck says stay back fifty feet, do. it's not only hell on a paint job, but will also whitewash a windshield like that was the purpose.
it's the driveways that i need to comment on, though. when you lay down salt on the driveway, it usually turns out to be a good thing for everything but the grass on either side. however, let me implore you to stop at a certain point! once you get to the point that you are slipping on the salt as badly (or worse, since it isn't expected) as you would the ice, it has gone too far. think before you salt. a message from the national you fucking moron council.

(two non-political posts in a row. can he go for the record?)

first there was ice, falling from the sky overnight
then there was snow all morning, to insulate the ice
then there was lasagne
then there was sleep
then there was an anxious radio listener, hopefully listening to school closings
then there was a disappointed radio listener
then there was no school anyway
but there was still work.
drunks don't take snow days.
now there's going to be more snow, and they don't plow our new neighborhood with any more regularity than they did the old one. does it get any better than this?

hateful demokkkrats are going to cost us four more years of that joker. if there can't be at least one unified front by the other evil corrupt political party, we might even see an abolition of term limits in the next four years. then we're really fucked, aren't we?

Let's go to the moon again, folks. think of how great that will be. we could live there, even if there is no life on the moon as yet. we could use the moon as a cheaper way to get to mars, what with the lessened gravity and all, even though there is no rocket fuel on the moon. and once we get to mars, why don't we just take that short little hop to heaven? we could thank jesus in person for all the help he's given us, in stealing elections, in bringing a highly technological war to an already downtrodden people, and in driving on a emotion centered populace over a cliff that they could see if only they would look with rational eyes.

that said, come see our show on monday. it's going to be the best one yet.

the bastards karamazov will be performing once again at reverend brim stone's lunar menagerie, this monday, jauary 19th at the way-out club, corner of jefferson and gravois.

i am way too sleepy to be at work, even though my caffeine is finally starting to kick in.

well, i've beat the month. now that it is blessed january, and i have nothing more than a lot of paperwork to do, i hope that i'll have time to update the world (at least the billionth of a percent that read this blog) on my day to day goings on. actually, strike that. i shouldn't bore the few people good enough to pay attention to my ravings... gotta work. more later

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.