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.