today, at work, my fourth set of customers were a pair of women, i would guess them to be fifty. one of them had a libree and eyebrow piercing.

I remember my dear old grandma
her darlin' old wrinkled face
with about ninety extra holes,
stainless steel all over the place.

she was so sweet and kind
always sympathetic
but she stayed away from the fridgidaire
cause her face was so magnetic

CHORUS
all of grandma's piercings
are so special to me
her jangling ears and her shiny nose
alternative and free

lower lip and eyebrow
she had a double and a triple
she sewed my pants with the needle
she first used on her nipple.


grandma liked the pain
from the needle going through
her ears and tongue and belly button
and her solar plexis too

grandpa rarely said
that he liked her less or more
but once he told me after church
she tickled like an old west whore

chorus

grandma passed away
a year or two ago
like a pincushion in a casket
i'll really miss her so

we put her in the ground
buried her with a tear
take my metal detector to the cemetery
i can just feel she's near

chorus x 2

ok, so since both of my readers have requested such, one in person, i will post again. don't get too excited, i get bored easily, and most of my life is not interesting enough to share (or so i'm told).

news from the front
haven will be officially my brother november 8th. my mother sent this news along with a new picture of the lad, and he is painfully cute. though he is really my first cousin once removed, we actually have the same dimple (on our faces, you sick fuck!). last time i talked with my mother, she put the phone up to haven's ear so that i could talk to him. this may well be the dumbest thing i can think of my mother ever doing, but i suppose it is cute to an extent. haven is six months old, and doesn't quite yet grasp the concept of the telephone unless he is truly advanced (which wouldn't surprise me, but i'll not count on it).

go angels. i was pleased to see the giants lose last night, but i must say that rooting for the team that didn't beat your adopted home team takes some of the fun out of the world series. nonetheless, it was a good series, and i probably would have posted more if not for it. well, even though that isn't true, it is a nice lie we tell ourselves nonetheless, right?

i have got to get out of the restaurant biz. the lack of intellectual stimulation is killing me. i have memorized everything i need to know about the job, down to the prices with tax of every item we sell. this is no way for a reasonably intelligent man to live.... but i hear it's hard all over. it does seem though that all of my friends have decent jobs that require more head work than leg. maybe i shoulda got me one a them degrees!

my sketch comedy auditions are rapidly approaching. the group is to be called the bastards karamazov, after a sketch i wrote with andy von crankenhaus. i have written a few things for the audition and hopefully later use. no church groups, please.

finally, i am always late to the new revolutions, i just started playing the sims. suzi is much more deeply addicted than i am, but i know i have a problem. i can't go without my artificial people too long.

there is no rest for the wicked, but at least they have better sex.
G

so.... the last post i made didn't go through. i wonder why? do you think it's because i used the word TERRORIST? peut etre, peut etre non pas.

to the best of my recollection, my last post had to do with, surprise surprise surmotherfuckingprise, the chocolate bar. a new anecdote.

on of my top five worst customers. probably number three since my first restaurant job at 15.

horrid bitch: hi, i'm looking for some chocolate
G: (thinking "what does the sign say outside? the asparagus bar?") ok, you'll have to be a little more specific than that
hb: (scoffing) you know, a box of chocolate?
G: we have boxes of our truffles
hb: i don't want truffles, i want chocolate
G: well, all of our pure chocolates are over here.... (guiding the horrid bitch)
hb: God, all you have is dark chocolate? don't you have any milk chocolate?
G: this is milk chocolate
hb: is that all you have? i hate dark chocolate!
G: well, milk chocolate isn't really that complex, so we only have one var...
hb: what i'm looking for is (brand name i have never heard of). do you have any of that?
G: i can't say i'm familiar with...
hb: it's a chocolate with a hazelnut filling.
G: like a truffle?
hb: yes.
G: our lafayette square truffle has a chocolate hazelnut filling...
hb: fine, give me a three pack
G: here you are
hb: i don't want that! i want a box of chocolate!
G: (looking at box with chocolates inside in hand) ok......
hb: i can't give that as a gift! i need a big box. give me a three pack of the l.s., but i want it in a box (describing dimensions erratically)
G: you only want three?
hb: you obviouslydon't understand what i'm saying. i want a box of chocolates...

this continued for several minutes. if she ever comes back, i'm calling the police to report the crime that i am about to commit on her.

alright, i never know who to trust in the world....

the only person i work with during the vast majority of my daytime chocolate bar shifts (i am call am manager not because i manage the staff, but because i can manage without one), sarah, is a passive agressive backstabber. damn it all, why do the people i like have to be hatin' and shit? this is the second time she's put her own feelings into someone else's mouth (the pm manager, meg) and then quoted them to me to avoid a confrontation. i'm not that much of an asshole! i can listen to constructive criticism!

if you have any constructive crit for this blog, fuck off
(or send it to maggotbrain@excite.com maybe that worked?)

thanks to alissa for linking to me. perhaps now i'll have a reader that i didn't tell to read my stuff!

fuck 'em all but six, and save them for pallbearers.

not that i have ever had a single reader or anything, but i'm sorry for staying away for so long, but, you know, you didn't make much of an effort either, you know.

news.......

suzi finished her first week of teaching. she loves it. even after i make my billion, she will probably still want to teach. it's people like this that could have made me like school.

i have a meeting tomorrow on my day off. the world is a shitty, shitty place sometimes.

and i accidentally said fuck to my mom on the phone.

sigh

i have made a long journey into the land of my birth, and it was good. suzi and i went to tennessee for a week ending today. a few highlights.
--- Haven. my new little brother, Haven, is among the best and brightest infants in the sport today. his bold competition has made him a true standout in a spectacular field for the last four months. i haven't seen a baby this ridiculously precious since north hampfordshirecester, 1939. the child is actually my new little brother-to-be from a "springer-guest-to-be" cousin of mine. (yes, i admit to being of trailer trash stock, but how i want to think i have risen out of the mud!)
--- my accent (the one that i never had until i moved to st. louis) has returned, just to prove i'm still pretty muddy.
--- i have a scanner. as soon as i get a cord for it... and find out how to post photos, i'll have some pictures of Haven.
--- suzi and i already miss Haven, and it's only been eleven hours.
--- my mom is getting remarried. i'm happy for mom, i like his kids, but (for the sake of anonymity, we'll call him) nick is not who i want raising my baby brother. (on second thought, let's not insult the devil and santa that way; let's call him) lick works at the produce market at which my mother used to work. he is crass, boorish, and a drunk (says the young pot to the old kettle). lick is going to be my new stepfather. (shudder) "Y'onna buhr?"
--- i didn't get to see my surrogate mom for more than a few minutes this trip. she's my best friend in town's mom. she rules.
--- mom and i get along better when we're both drinking. it's great. we get along pretty well anyway, but now, we have a tie that thins any and all bad blood (eventually): alcohol.
--- (Parentheses are fanfuckingtastic [which if i may {and i may}], is a word of which i was at least one of the original users [to the best of my knowledge {fanfuckingtastically speaking (if nothing else, i should try to copyright that bullshit)}]).

--- i'm pretty tired, so i think that this will be the end of the list. goodnight

well, today was my last day of work at the chocolate bar before my vacation, and i am loving that. i don't have to go back there until a week from tuesday. i don't have to talk about single origin chocolate, fantastic home-made desserts, or chocolate covered strawberries for over a week!
this is something that has been weighing on my mind for the last, oh, say, nine years. why, non-food service persons, would anyone be rude to the person who is going to be handling something you intend to eat? where is the logic in fucking with someone wielding that kind of power? i don't do gross things to people's food, but i damn sure could if pressed in just the right way. i know lots of servers and cooks who do, so why do we as an industry take so much shit?
"there's something very interesting about this cheesecake... i can't quite put my finger on it"
-g

so since i haven't posted it yet, if anyone wants to send me an e-mail (which i sincerely doubt, as this is hardly the most interesting blog of the last two you've read), my address is maggotbrain@excite.com. if that link doesn't work, i'll try to put one up that does, soon, i swear. ok, probably not. i get enough email i don't really want.
so, who's up for some drugs, eh?
sorry about that. there have been times in my life in which i allowed drugs and alcohol to get the better of me. after elementary school, though, i learned to handle myself a little better. now i live a nearly vice-free existence. i'll be right back, i have to get a beer and smoke a cigarette.
(insert pause. you should go listen to a medium short funk song, which should clock in at about seven minutes.)
as i was saying, the key to drugs and alcohol is moderation. wait a minute, i've never said anything like that in my life. so i don't know if i've mentioned it, but when i'm at home, i smoke on the front porch. this is because suzi is a recent non-smoker, and no one likes a whole house reeking of cigarettes, even me. now, i get to go outside and feel the loving kiss of the 93 degree st louis night. thank dog for air conditioning. thank doug i don't feel like writing anymore.

hello again from the chocolate-hawking world...
My name is geronimo. it has been for the past six years to a large number of people (basically everyone who has met me in a social or academic context in that time). for those of you who are curious, it is not the name that i was given at birth. i chose it late in high school as a replacement for a name that i thought didn't fit me. when i got to college, i started telling people that that was my name. they rarely if ever asked questions, but rather decided that it was cool to know someone named geronimo.
thank you for sharing, geronimo. does anyone else know what it feels like to be more than one person at a time?

just a few more things i forgot.
the chocolate bar, my place of business, was mentioned earlier, but the link never materialized. sorry about that, blake.
also, i went on a float trip this weekend. nine of us rented rafts and floated down the meramac river. suzi and i were in the only two person raft, but since each raft only got two paddles, we actually moved the fastest for lack of weight. some impressions:
i am from east tennessee, home of the ocoee river. if you haven't heard of the ocoee, you must have missed the white water events for the '96 atlanta olympics. when i think of float trip, i never expect that a lot of floating is going to be done. i think excitement, rapids, warnings, and guides. i don't think beer and cigarettes and eating while on river. this midwestern existence is killing me.
guy on the canoe with the rebel flag tattoo: she's a pomeranian. we just shaved her for the summer, and she was in the water. she loves it when we shave her. that's why she looks like that.
i don't know if he meant the rat standing on the bank near him, one of his two children, or his wife.

souxsie and i babysat her niece tonight. i like babies. they taste like... no this is a kinder, gentler geronimo. those motherfuckers bounce like superballs. no, again, just kidding. i really do like babies, strange as it may seem. and once i get warmed up to them, they generally like me too. baby emily was no exception.
i love beer.

jacqueline, a realtor from down the street, gave me the james brown boxed set today. imagine my surprise. it seems that she and her husband are dj's by night, and she just burned a copy for me. it's great to know generous people.
a girl came in today with her boyfriend.
Girl: Do you sell the truffles, like, individually?
G: (slight sarcasm) Yeah.
Girl: so those are like, two-packs and three-packs?
G: that's right.
Girl: How many truffles come in a three-pack?
And the boyfriend, hiding his face in his hands, walked to the door.
thank god for intelligent people.
thank god for suzi.
thank god there is no god.
and god bless the united states of america.
what in the name of satan is wrong with us. i'm not exactly in favor of the idea to go to war with a country who we already went to war with two years past; i'm also no pacifist. but warfare should be personal, and the only thing we're taking personally is not killing a guy in the first place. if our fearless leader wants the guy dead so badly, why doesn't he do it.
by the way, i'm only speaking of our iraqi foe here... i have no beef with the killing of the binny bin, as long as we don't give out free cups of "friendly fire" to undeserving bystanders.
wow, this has turned too political too quickly. better end on a high note.
this is a quick tribute to liz, a big part of my blog inspiration.
Your mama's so existentialist, she'd let anyone Phil her Osophy!

alright, first of all, my two dogs got into my cigarettes. that's right, i caught them both trying to inhale but failing miserably, because their lips don't work like that. ok, so they just ate three of them and coated the filters of the rest with dog slobber and hair (of as yet undetermined origin).
second, pete townshend is a jerkoff.
third, i don't think i get this blog shit yet.
fourth, i auditioned for the rocky horror show this evening, and i don't think they'll give me a part. well, i don't know. i sang fairly well, but only on the second time. if they had let me sing my audition song a cappella, would have been better. oh well. that'll show me not to come without sheet music, even if you did find out about the audition only three hours earlier.
fifth, and finally, so far, mild inebriation and blogging mix well.

ladies and gentlemen, children of all ages, go fuck yourselves! or, your choice of consenting partners, or failing that, cut a hole in a watermelon.
nonetheless....
my name is geronimo. i expect that this blog will be of limited interest, limited to those people unfortunate enough to know me in person who are taking bets as to the date of my death. anyone else who stumbles onto this site should probably run away from the computer as fast as you can. i'm serious. it's bad for your eyes.
here's a little about myself. i am an actor and a coffee monkey. this means i make coffee for the masses and also pretend to like them. i am good at only one at a time, so if i seem really nice, your cappucino will suck. or perhaps not.
i work at a lovely little establishment called the chocolate bar. anyone litereate who has flown american airlines in the last two months has a pretty decent chance of having heard of us. if you haven't, you may look at , or you can skip it if you don't approve of my shameless plug.
i am also an actor on stage, not just behind a counter. more on that later, i'm sure.
it's twenty-three days until my birthday (and only twenty till alissa's).