It's becoming apparent that my blog is dying. After almost 9 years of recorded history, the relevance is starting to wear thin. I'm trying to think of some fitting way to say goodbye, but for now it'll probably just sit and stagnate for a while since I still use the FTP associated with my account. Maybe I'll print out every blog and bind it in a big book that can be relived time and again. Maybe some day one of my ancestors will say, I wonder what David was like in college. And then read it and be like oh dear god I wish I'd never known. Then again, I won't have any ancestors, but y'know ... children of my nieces and nephews grandchildren. People like that.

So sorry if any of you are still checking. I think I might be checking out for realz this time, but you never know. If I change my mind you'll be the first to know.

This year we're going to be checking out Easter in the Park. Which from what I can tell by word of mouth, is a really big deal in Uptown. From what I can tell by the internet, it hasn't existed since 2007. All I really wanted to know was what time people generally started showing up, and what most people tended to bring -- blankets, wine, cheese? But I guess I'll just have to do whatever I want and hope it's not too outlandish.

Speaking of outlandish, Daniel's birthday is coming up and as his present this year, I've decided to throw him out of an airplane. And I'm going to join him. We'll both be free falling from 13,500 feet above beautiful Whitewright, Texas. I'm absolutely terrified but strangely looking forward to the experience. I think it'll be a riot. I paid a little extra to have the whole thing documented on video for posterity. I may or may not show you all. They do post the freefall on the internet for all to see. Anyway, wish me luck.

And good luck to all of you finding eggs laid by rabbits. Creepy.

The sixth installment of Febrehab has come and gone. And while this was one of the easiest transitions yet, it was probably one of the most successful. The side challenge this year was to visit at least one uniquely Dallas/cultural establishment each weekend. And we chose the Dallas Museum of Art, The Dallas Aquarium, The Nasher Sculpture Museum, and The Sixth Floor Museum.

DMA was good. I think I addressed that in an earlier blog. The aquarium was fun because my sister was in town and she came down on the train with my parents and we all met up. It was neat, but I think I'm really glad I had little kids with me, otherwise I would have blown through that joint in 20 minutes. But they made it more interesting. It's a little confusing the ratio of underwater to terrestrial exhibits they have. So many birds and monkeys and snakes and bunny rabbits? What the hell kind of aquarium has bunny rabbits? But whatever.

The Nasher Museum was pretty cool. Lots of neato statues. But for 10 bucks, it really only took us about 30 minutes to go through that so I'm not sure if it alone was worth it. If you're gonna go I would suggest having lunch out on the patio and maybe a glass of wine and lingering for a while to make your dollar go a little further. Now for us, the thing that made it worth the money was running into Miranda Hobbes while we were there. She was just walking around with her mannish lesbian lover and a couple of friends looking at the artwork. Nobody was bothering her, so far be it from us to be the only two stargazers. After our initial giggling and hitting each other, we basically left her alone. But then lo and behold about 10 minutes later we were in this huge empty installation minding our own business and she walked in all by herself. So it was me, Daniel, and Miranda standing there looking at these sculptures on the wall. So finally I turned to her and said, "YOU are Cynthia Nixon." And she smiled and said, "I am." And I said, "We're really big fans." And she said, "Thanks." And then I nonchalantly turned back to Daniel and pretended to continue a conversation we'd been having about the sculptures. It was too fun.

I can't believe I've never been to the Sixth Floor Museum -- which is the sixth floor of the Texas School Book Depository that Lee Harvey Oswald allegedly shot Kennedy from. As much as I love History Channel shows about it, I've just never gotten off my fat butt to walk over there. It was pretty cool. I have to say, they always describe it as such an impossible shot from an impossible distance, but when I was sitting up there, looking out the window at the road directly below, it did not seem far to me at all. So that pretty much sealed the deal for me and I'm now convinced it was Oswald.

And that was February. Totally fun. This weekend we went to the Convention Center for the Dallas Auto Show and to try out for Wheel of Fortune. It's a life long goal of mine to be on the show, but it turns out, I'm not the only one with that dream. There were thousands of people trying out. It felt a lot like American Idol. There was a raffle system to see who even got to go up on stage to play a fake game. And they called about 40 people during the hour long slot that we got into, and I wasn't one of them. So boo. But I tried and it was totally fun sitting there thinking your name might be called next. So I counted that as a victory. Then I got to see a Chevy Volt and sit in a Smart car, and see Allison who was working the Mini booth. So also a pretty good day. I wouldn't be disappointed if this do-something-every-weekend continued all year round. Huzzah.

Any suggestions for next weekend?

I don't know if you've noticed the conspicuous omission of any posts about Febrehab this year. It's not that I'm not doing -- I am. It's just that it's really not much of a challenge this year. I really don't drink a whole lot these days. And, I wasn't going to mention this publicly, just in case, but now I think it's pretty official: I quit smoking 6 months ago.

Right when we got back from Owen's wedding when I wasn't feeling well, I didn't smoke and then I just kind of figured I would keep it going just for the hell of it. So now that's that. I don't foresee myself ever going back to it. I don't even miss it.

But that does kind of take the fun out of rehab if you're not addicted to anything. But this year I am trying to focus on sleeping more, so I've moved my bedtime up to 10:30pm. I do not stay up past that for any reason. And the other side challenge is to do something cultural in Dallas each weekend in February. So yesterday JennyCole came into town and we went with her to the Dallas Museum of Art. Got some general admission passes and walked around and looked at art. She'd been there 100 times, Daniel had been a few times, but I've never been. It was a really fun way to spend the afternoon. Then we came back and chit chatted for a while and then Jenny had to leave.

So far so good, just not a lot to report so I've kind of forgotten to keep the blog up to date, but you're probably getting used to that these days, no?

Don't worry, Toyota. I figured it out:

The good news is that the neurologist was pretty sure he'd found was what wrong with me. He made me do all sorts of goofy shit like walking a straight line, standing on one foot with my eyes closed. Then he made me lay with my head off the edge of a table and forced my head back and forth and told me to look in extremely opposite directions. I didn't know this, but I've since learned on YouTube, that when you're experiencing vertigo your eyes go through a certain REM. And based on the pattern that your eyes jerk around they can tell you exactly which ear has the problem.

I have what is called benign positional vertigo. It's called "benign" because in and of itself it causes no harm to anything, although it does freak people out and make them think they have tumors and whatnot. But what it is is actually an inner ear malfunction that can be brought on by everything from an ear infection to absolutely no reason. You have three semi-circular canals in your inner ear on the X, Y, Z coordinate planes. Each one is filled with fluid and has a hair with a calcium carbonate rock on the end. When you turn your head certain directions the fluid flows and pushes on the rock letting your brain know that you've moved to a certain position. Well pieces of that calcium carbonate can break off and become free floating in to the canal, running into things and causing the sensation of motion.

To flush these particles out of the canal you do what is called the Epley Maneuver, which basically consists of laying down with your head at certain angles with respect to gravity. And switching between each position will cause fluid to go in just one direction hopefully taking any dislodged rocks along with it. It's the simplest, least invasive cure to any disease I've ever seen. And I am thrilled to say it is working for me. I'm like 3 days now no sudden overwhelming vertigo. So yay.

Unfortunately, the anxiety associated with thinking I'm gonna die at any moment is lingering. I've read websites that say your body just becomes sort of addicted to that adrenaline rush of anxiety. After a while instead of thoughts causing the chemical reaction, it's actually the chemical reaction that causes the thoughts. And you have to really concentrate to break that association and wean yourself from that addiction. I liken it to losing weight. It's really easy to sit around and get fat, but to get skinny again takes a concerted effort. So I've been really trying to remain.calm and do things that are relaxing at night like taking baths, reading, and going to bed early. I would have to say it gets better almost every day, but like tonight I drank a beer and was all dizzy in the head walking home and now I'm all worked up that the calcium carbonate rocks were just one problem in a sea of many. Gotta do my best to break that train of thought.

So the saga continues. I think through sleep, exercise, multivitamins, yoga and massages I will see the light on the other side. I will tell you this though, it gives me a whole new appreciation for psychiatric medicine. I would NOT want to live like this forever just gripped by fear for no reason. I've always been of the mindset that people should just get over it, but now having experienced the truly involuntary reactions in my brain, I know that it is not an option. But hopefully the more dizzy-free days I have the more relaxed I will become. But I think I will remain forever grateful if this does pass that I am able to live a normal life. Here's hopin.

But at least now if any of you experience sudden overwhelming vertigo you can laugh it off because now you know it's probably just rocks in your ears.

Now we enter a new chapter in my life: The crazy years. Let me see if I can preface this well enough. 5 months ago everything was grand. I flew to San Diego for a wedding, and while I was there I got very, very dizzy. This incessant dizziness was coupled with my heart skipping beats. I said nothing just wanting to get on a plane and come home. And when I did, I finally told Daniel how I had been feeling all day and he took me to the ER.

They took blood. They took XRays. They did an MRI and a catscan. They measured my blood pressure laying, sitting, standing. I subsequently went to a cardiologist and had a full workup stress test of my heart done. Everything comes back saying everything is normal. And yet, I'm still dizzy.

A while back the dizziness was accompanied with what I can only describe as a panic attack. I'd lay on the couch, somewhat spinning, heart racing, palms sweaty, adrenaline pumping. I went to the doctor and she prescribed me anti-anxiety medicine. But I was in the process of buying this condo. So everyone was like it's probably just stress from that. And as soon as everything was squared away and finalized, the anxiety went away so I brushed it off and carried on.

Well now it's back and worse than before. I have varying degrees of vertigo but it's pretty much a daily occurrence. I haven't been able to walk down a hallway free of fear of falling down or passing out now for 5 months. And the past few days I've been so worked up over it that I've skipped meals and I've been sleeping 12+ hours every day and never feeling the least bit rested. So I went BACK to the doctor. This time she made me an appointment with a neurologist for tomorrow morning and gave me a prescription to Xanax.

Now, I'm a bit of a Xanaxpert when it comes to abusing the drug. I've seen what it does to people who take it every hour on the hour. But I've never tried it myself. I think I will take half of one tonight just to try and guarantee a peaceful night. I've been told I will probably just pass out. But if I can just make it through a decent meal and get some rest, I think that will be the best for me.

If the neurologist finds nothing then I am truly crazy, hypochondriac and I need to be locked away for good. More news when I have it.

I think Facebook is to blame for the decline in the number of posts that I make on SVC. It used to be that I'd save up every little thought and occasionally combine them into a blog. But now that I essentially tweet, those little thoughts leak out until I have nothing left to say when a blog comes around. Even todays post has generally been addressed already on Facebook. I already posted this picture. But I think it is badass enough to warrant showing it to my Sidesho Viewers who may not be avid social networkers.

So we paid painters to come in and paint every last inch of wall space in the condo. And they did an amazing job. If you ever need painters, let me know and I'll recommend them to you. But in the bedroom we knew that we wanted to do something funky, something with stripes, and we wanted to do it ourselves. After the base coat of regal plum went down, I was already in love with the palette. The white trim really pops out against the dark, dark purple. And since the lights are rarely very high in this space, it's not really purple, it's just rich and dark. But I wanted to kind of vomit color on it, make it a little cacophonous. And the design I came up with was a technicolor barcode. It cost a lot of money for a bunch of little cans of paint, and took two solid days of taping and painting and taping and painting, but we finally arrived at this final result:

And I love it. I think its the best bedroom I've done so far. Now you KNOW I don't like to toot my own horn, but just this once, in this special situation, I think it's well deserved. TOOT! TOOT!

You all know how I am an extreme fan of Reader's Digest. I just read the best article and it spawned a new weekend activity for me. It was all about how to be your own body guard.

It has little tips like how you should always stop your car where you can see the tires of the car in front of you. That way if someone tries to carjack you, you can swerve around the car in front of you to get away. (And then immediately throw that bitch right back in reverse and permanently solve the problem.) They also say if you're being attacked you should yell "Fire!" instead of "Help!" People's natural inclination when someone is yelling for help is to get away because they don't want to get sucked into it. But they are also so inclined to run toward a fire, thinking they'll be able to help in some way. That was by far my favorite hint. They also suggest carrying a little bit of "mugger's money." This is just a little bit of easily accessible cash that can be handed over if need be to someone putting a pistol in your pie hole. Most muggers are looking for a quick buck and will run away once they have it, so it's better to lose a $20 than a jaw bone.

But onto the activity. I get this feeling Daniel hates the multitude of activities I have planned at any one time, but he has to participate in this one. We've talked before about getting some mace to keep in the house just in case someone was breaking in. Realistically, I'm more concerned about a confused, irate drunk person trying to get into what they think is their apartment than I am about a robber trying to take my things. So I think mace would suffice to keep me safe. However, if I am woken up in the middle of the night by the sound of my front door being kicked in, my ass is going out the window, pronto.

We have a door in our bedroom that opens to the outside. Only it goes nowhere. There's no balcony or anything, just a railing to a 4 foot drop. So like Reader's Digest suggest, I've informed Daniel that we will be having a break-in drill soon. I want to lay in bed and pretend the door just got kicked in and then see how long it takes us to get up, grab a cell phone, unlock and open the pointless door, and then jump over the railing to the flowerbeds below. He is confident that in the situation we would rise to the occasion, but that is just the kind of talk my four dollar magazine advises against.

Anyone wanna run the stop watch for us?

The ear infection did indeed clear up and I am back on solid ground. Lately it seems like I can't go one full day without getting vertigo, or my knee giving out, or my back spasming, or my throat getting sore, or missing out on a good night of sleep. Daniel suggested that I might be a hypochondriac to which I replied, "Oh g*d! Do you think so? Should I go see a doctor?!" Instead, I've decided to cut out that middle man and reach the same conclusion with no muss, no fuss. From now on, I am ignoring my body.

I'm not sure how I got out of the habit of ignoring problems until they go away, but I'm back in it now. It's especially helpful at the gym when my heart is racing and my head is swimming, my knees are burning, but I just keep going. Because really what's harm?

I was pretty shocked though when I got my bill for the two trips to the ER. Not including the $100 copay I have to pay each time, my total bill was $0.00. I was unaware this was possible. I thought that trips to the ER were a financial death sentence. I never knew there was insurance that actually covered anything. I thought the purpose of insurance was to take all of your money and then find reasons to not cover you later. Maybe my new corporate insurance is designed to take care of its employees? I don't know what happened, but I feel like all the money I feared I would have to spend is now free to be blown in Vegas.

Vegas trip is less than a month away. I can't wait. Then we're trying to get a game plan together of whether we're vacationing anywhere over the holidays. We're thinking maybe Denver or New Orleans. More to come on that.

Last weekend, Daniel and I took off Friday and Monday so we could fly out to San Diego for Owen and Kimi's nuptials. I'd never been to San Diego and Daniel was quite familiar with it so he was excited to kind of show me around. We had a bachelor/bachelorette party on Friday and a wedding on Sunday so there was plenty of down time. San Diego is such a lovely little city. The weather was immaculate -- especially after a few weeks of 100+ temperatures here. The people are all really cool, friendly, and generally proud of themselves for living in San Diego. The wedding was really pretty out at this little marina outside with a backdrop of boats. The reception was really fun too. So that was ... man, it was just great....

So Monday morning, because the newly weds were staying in our hotel (which was pretty bomb, btw) we asked them if they'd like to meet up with us for breakfast. And walking down to the restaurant, I kept like losing my balance, putting my hand on the wall to stabilize myself. I was DD at the reception so I really didn't drink much, but I just kind of shrugged it off thinking it must have been the dark beer I'm not used to. But then it happened again, and again, again. And now at this point I'm getting nervous and my heart is like fluttering. But I figured a nice big breakfast, and a couple hours of napping would take care of it since we didn't have to check out or be at the airport for some time.

It helped a little, but after we turned in the rental car, it happened like 100 more times. I just couldn't keep my balance, I kept feeling like I was falling over. Not wanting to alarm Daniel, and not wanting to delay our departure, I decided to chance it and say nothing and get on the plane. I managed to sleep most of the way through the flight and survived. We landed, got our bags, were walking out to the car, and this time I went like down to the ground. It was really scaring me. So when we got home, I said something to Daniel about how this had been going on all day. My heart wasn't beating regularly and I was passing out ever 10 minutes. So we did the only thing we could think to do and went to the ER.

They hooked me up to heart monitors and took chest XRays and blood and urine and said everything came back perfectly healthy. Maybe it was stress. I should go home and rest and I'd be fine. If anything happened though to come back immediately. The next day I went to work, fell down on the way to the bathroom, didn't know which way was up, so back to the ER I went. This time they took blood again, then did a catscan and an MRI of my brain. Everything was normal so they sent me home. I started thinking about it, and my symptoms were so acute that I couldn't think of anything it could be but an ear problem. So I called our old friend Dr. Schwimmer at the Snoring Center of Dallas (since he is an ENT doctor by trade) and asked him if he could help me. He is so nice. He said swing by the next day and he'd take a look.

Well, I'm pleased to tell you that I have an inner ear infection that should clear up on its own in 3-5 days. He advised me to not drive, stay home from work, and sleep as much as my body wanted to (which just so happens to be like 20 hours a day if you include naps). And I already feel much better. I'm a tad embarrassed I went to the ER, but you kind of have to decide in that moment if you want to ignore this and see what happens or if you want to be safe. At least I know now for sure that my heart is healthy, my brain is defect free, and I have no bladder infections. How many of you can say that? Still, I imagine there are cheaper ways to get physicals.

Alas, I'm on the road to recovery. My touch of the dizzies has already waned. Here's hoping I'll be fine by Monday. Just wanted you all to hear this story in case it happens to you, I might be able to save you a few trips to the hospital.

I made some of my jean extending clip on cuffs. I just haven't implemented the clip on functionality which is why I haven't photographed them yet. The Allistralian was just at my apartment the other night and she was really stoked about the invention because she has a hard time finding jeans that are the right length. This product could totally be marketed to the big and tall -- not just wieners with high waters. Why didn't I think of this?

Last night I was going to order Patch Perfect -- the shakeable grass seed -- from an infomercial. But I decided to do a little research on the internet first. Everyone gave it 0 out of 10, but they said it was because it didn't cover nearly as much area as it claimed, or they said this is just grass seed, why is it so expensive? So I compromised and went to Wal-Marts and got a bag of grass seed. I've had these planters outside of my bedroom window for years now and to date have been unsuccessful in keeping anything alive for more than a day. I was under the impression that plants could survive hours, maybe even days, without constant care. Not so. I have killed everything from plants to herbs and always in under a week. So now I'm growing grass. Heat resistant, drought resistant grass. If I can keep it alive, get it to grow in pretty thick, and then cut it to a uniform length, I think that could be real attractive. If I can keep it alive.

And now, another million dollar idea from yours truly. Strange how I have all of these million dollar ideas, but not a million dollar bank account. Anyway, you know how celebrity gossip and tabloids are so popular? And also you know how reality TV is so popular? Okay, now put those two ideas together:

REALITY TABLOIDS!!!

I'm going to write nasty articles about how fat women in my neighborhood are getting. And I'm gonna snap pictures of two bitches out at bars wearing the same outfit and have people vote on who wore it better. I'll do everything the paparazzi does to celebrities, but I'll do it to regular people. It'll be so awesome. Breaking neighborhood scandals. Having people see themselves leaving a local bar and falling down. This could really catch on. I'm working on the first issue now. It'll be a twofer purchase with the first issue of the Conduit. Suckers.

I've always tried to be a bit of an ideas man (see: Mega-Blinds) but ever since Pitchmen came on TV, I've been dying to come up with an invention that I can market on TV. Sadly, Billy Mays passed away recently, so I don't think they're going to continue the show. But I can't let that stop me. I must press forward with new ideas.

Which brings me to my latest invention. It occurred to me while laying on top of Daniel, blocking his view of the television just how comfortable it is to lay on someone's chest. Why not make a pillow that follows those contours for use all the time? I can't really speak towards a woman's chest, but I assume that most straight men would be deterred from buying a pillow in the shape of another man, even though it is undeniably comfy, so I made some women pillows too.

You can't tell me you wouldn't buy one of these. You could, but you'd be lying. What do you think? I think it's a little better idea than my clip-on pants cuffs. For those days when you realize your jeans are just a little too short to be wearing. You reach into your glove box and pull out your clip-on cuffs and extend your pants an extra inch or two. I'm working on a prototype as we speak. I'll be sure to let you see it. As long as you don't steal it and market it! I'm serious.

I can't believe I stayed up an extra hour to photoshop boobs onto pillow. Wait, maybe I can. Late.

I've been hearing a lot lately on the news and whatnot about this Prop 8 nonsense out in California and I felt compelled to weigh in on the issue. I think people are missing the point. The point isn't for gay people to get married; it's for gay people to be equal. There's one quick and easy way to accomplish this:

Abolish marriage.

I've spoken out in the past about people who are trying to destroy the institution of marriage -- divorcees, pregnant teens, single mothers -- people hell bent on destroying the moral character of this great nation. People who try to force me to accept their ung*dly lifestyles. But now I've changed my tune now and have decided to speak out against all marriage. If every marriage was annulled starting right meow, it would totally level the playing field. Everyone could then pursue their own level of legal intertwining of their lives with another person, as they saw fit.

You don't need to be married to live together. You don't need to be married to cosign a lease. You don't need to be married to become someone's benefactor. You don't need to be married to be written into a living will. You can legally change your name whenever you want to whatever you want with or without getting married. Marriage isn't necessary to share insurance benefits, and you don't have to be married to share finances.

You don't need marriage to buy a big, gaudy cake. You don't need a marriage to get all your friends and family together to get plastered. A marriage isn't required to promise to love someone forever. Basically, you don't need marriage to have a fabulous wedding.

Marriage is something that started back around the time of the bible ... and none of that still applies to anything in today's modern world. So why hang onto that one last vestige of Mesopotamian culture that's been dead to the world for 2000 years?

So who's with me? I'm starting a petition to get Prop 9 on the ballot. And remember: A vote FOR Prop 9 is a vote against not have no marriage never not recognized and none of the marriages not counting.

I cannot tell you how much satisfaction my new job brings me. I feel like I have actual responsibilities with actual challenges being "managed" by an actual manager. It's pretty fun to look forward to work every day for a change. And to only work 8 hours a day. And to ride the Vespa every day since I won't be required on any construction sites. I just couldn't be happier.

It's also freed up my weekends completely for revelry. I always love it when drunken meandering leads you to random fun. Last weekend Daniel and I found ourselves in the back of a horse-drawn carriage, surrounded by xmas lights, drinking red wine. We went all around the neighborhood zig zagging through buildings, even stopping off at a bar to get topped off with some wine to-go. I must admit we were merely along for the ride while our crazy neighbors made it all happen, but still it was good to be out and about every so slightly breaking the law to turn a good time into a great time. I wanted Daniel to take off on the horse bareback through the park after we watched him get unsaddled, but that probably wasn't as good of an idea as I thought it was right at that moment.

I also have signed on with a new personal trainer at the gym. He's this guy we kind of know from the neighborhood who is giving us a really good deal so we're gonna train 2 or 3 times a week depending on how we like it. Gotta get in shape for St. Thomas.

Did you know we are going to St. Thomas in June -- which is going to be amazing. Then it's off to San Diego in August to watch Owen get married. EEEEEEEE!!1! Then in October we're going to Vegas because we have floor seats to Kylie Minogue's first every North American tour. Couldn't be more excited about that. My dad even got us two free hotel rooms in Vegas with his timeshare for me and my friends. Suck on that.

Sorry about the lack of updates. It'll probably stay this way for a while, I'm completely unmotivated to blog. Maybe I should start twittling or whatever.

Today I accepted a job offer. After about 2 years of frustration in my current position, I will be transitioning over to tech support for my company. It's a big move and one I think will result in crazy amounts of job satisfaction. The only downside is that I won't be sitting next to all of my friends, but I'll still be in the same building and we can still go to lunch together, so hopefully that won't be a very big deal. It's been a long time coming and I can't wait to get started. But I don't make the move until May 15.

I don't normally talk about work, but I thought that was at least worthy of a mention. In other news, damn I haven't updated in a while. I'm falling back into that mindset of maybe I should let SideshoViD.com join the annals of history. It doesn't do me any harm to keep it going other than 19 dollars a month, but I just hate stagnant blogs and mine never has been one before. We'll see.

We've had a little bit of fun since the jury duty episode. For one thing, the Allistralian and her then fiance Dom stopped through town. I had them help me hatch an elaborate birthday scheme for Daniel's 25th. A few days prior I had gone and purchased the new Dyson DC25 vacuum as a present, but rather than just giving it to Daniel, I concocted a script with Dom. He came over on a Saturday because Allison was busy at a wedding shower or something. And he brought with him a birthday potted plant. I think it went over so well just because he's British and when he says, "Everyone needs a pot plant," Daniel just took it as normal. Then he said, "But don't water it because it's already been watered." I had asked him to throw that in there because the plan was to knock the dirt on the ground and I really didn't want it to be mud.

So we were spending the day in and out of the apartment by the pool. And when we got back before Daniel, Dom spooned some of the dirt onto the carpet and then exclaimed, "Oh shit Daniel sorry," right as he was coming back in. And just as planned, he ran to get the vacuum. Only our vacuum was gone and replaced with the Dyson. It was pretty classic. He seems to really like his birthday present. Derrr. Wouldn't you? On a sadder note, Allison and Dom have decided to go their separate ways starting right meow. You can read about that on their travel blog whileyouwereworking.com.

Not much else to report at this time. If I think of something, I'm going to try to update a little more going forward. Later, skillets.

I haven't blogged in quite some time. And I rarely if ever talk about my job on my blog, but I can't really explain my recent absence without it, so I'm breaking all the rules. I've been assigned to a project that has sucked the joy from my life. If there is something I enjoy doing -- being with Daniel, watching TV, riding my Vespa -- I no longer have time for it. I've been waking up around 5:30am every day, going to a construction site, working 10-12 hours, coming home, and programming or making changes until midnight... only to wake up the next morning and do it again. And this is Monday through Saturday with no end in sight. I've really been on the verge of just not showing up ever again, but so far have persevered.

But today, a ray of sunshine broke through the clouds. I got summoned for jury duty!

I've been summoned several times in the past, but it was always in Collin County. And I haven't lived in Collin County for quite some time. So all I had to do was go to their website, check the box that said I didn't live there, and submit, and I was exempt. But I think voting may have set their records straight so today I got it for Dallas County. So its the first time that I actually have to go. Normally, I'd be dodging it like everyone else, but with my job sucking as bad as it is right now, I'm seriously excited. And with only an up-side to being selected, I will be doing whatever it takes to get on that jury. I will say whatever they want to hear. They're going to have to DRAG me from that courtroom if they don't choose me.

Really when you think about it, it is kind of cool to be on a jury. Like watching an episode of SVU and deciding the outcome. Most people just avoid it because its a total pain in the ass. But if you've got nowhere better to go, might as well, sit back, relax, and enjoy the drama. It's not until April 6th, so I've just got to last until then. But I'll be sure to let you all know how my selection process goes.

It has occurred to me recently that I don't really update my webpage all that often. And when I do, I don't really feel as though I have those golden nuggets of wisdom nearly as often as I used to. And I'm going to be honest with you. I thought about ending SideshoViD.com. As much as I try to entertain my loyal Sidesho Viewers, its really more just a journal for me. I thought I could save it to my hard drive and just call that a chapter of life.

Then SideshoViD.com went away.

I thought at first that it was Earthlink's problem. My website and my email were both broken so I shrugged it off and ignored it as I so often do with life's little problems. But after 3 days of consecutive down time I started to get worried. So I checked to make sure they were still billing me. And they were not. I hadn't paid for my website since November. Oops. So I called them and asked them why I wasn't notified that my payment was past due and they said they tried to contact me at @aol.com and at my parent's old house phone number. So I was like yeah, maybe its time to update my account information. 24 hours later, we are back in business.

My first reaction to learning that my website had been canceled for non-payment was to blog about it and complain. And I couldn't. So then I thought, ooh, that would be a good blog too, about how I want to blog and I can't. But I couldn't. It was like when the electricity goes out in your house, but you still flick every light switch in every room and are momentarily surprised and upset that the lights don't come on before you remember the electricity's out. Yeah. That. That's the metaphor for how I felt about no longer having this outlet. Sudden bursts of panic.

So even though I'm not funny any more. Even though I don't have any readers any more. Even though I can't get comments anymore because of spam. SideshoViD.com isn't going ANYWHERE.

By g*d, I think I've done it. I am about to head to the gym to run a measly 3 miles leaving me a cake walk to victory tomorrow. I don't want to sound too confident because my knees could still blow out at the last minute, but I think its safe to say this is a victory. I'm pretty excited ... about never running again.

I'm also excited about drinking some of my home brew on Saturday. I put all 50 bottles in the fridge last night so they'd be nice and cold by the time we were ready to drink them. Serious party time.

So my home office is coming along nicely. I ordered my second monitor when it went on sale last week. I originally had planned on having 3 22 inch monitors, but I think for now 2 will be enough. It's not just enough desktop space, its damn near too much. I can barely mouse over from one side to the other without picking up the mouse halfway in between to get more traction. Not to mention the physical size of the monitors. I don't know if there's any way that 3 could even fit on the desk that I have. It is an impressive sight though. So impressive I think I'll post a picture for you. Catch you skillets on the flip side ... deeerunk. Peace.

What a wonderful Febrehabruarv it's been so far. Without any dietary restrictions, the transition has been pretty seamless. I could most definitely go for a beer after the week I've had, but that temptation will be easy to avoid. The only hard part is that I have a bathtub full of beer bottles containing the most delicious brew you've ever tasted.

Saturday night Daniel and I celebrated our 3rd anniversary that just so happens to coincide with the onset of Febrehab. So we always do it up right. We had an outrageous meal of tenderloin, Chilean sea bass, ahi tuna, and lobster, accentuated with many "very, very, very dirty Grey Goose martinis with just a *splash* of vermouth and 3 blue cheese stuffed olives" (write that down). We got home feeling rather toasty and decided to pop open a few of the homebrew beers that I bottled a week prior. They weren't technically aged to fruition just yet but we figured what the hell. AND IT WAS SO GOOD. I'm not just saying that because I brewed it. It might be the best beer I've ever had. I can't wait to try it when its fully aged and chilled and everything. We were drinking it straight from the bathtub. So March 1st everyone come on by and I'll let you have one. I fully intend to brew again.

Then the physical challenge began. I am quite pleased to announce that I have gone running every day so far. This whole 4 miles a day bullshit is nearly impossible. I ran myself sick the second day and had to back off a little the third but now I'm back on pace. I have gone a total of 18.94 miles since Sunday and have no intention of slowing down. I have my progress charted in Excel and I know what I need to average every day for the rest of the month to meet my 100 mile goal and it is daunting. There's no way I'm taking a day off and raising that average.

Every muscle in my body hates me and my knees -- I think -- are about to fall off. But I'm still going strong. Anybody out there participating?

My brother just sent out a Picasa album to the family of his trip to Texas. It was a pretty large album detailing Kelsey's birthday parties and all the goings on of a couple different families around the holidays. Daniel was sitting with me as we scrolled through them and eventually got to some that we were both in. Then we stumbled upon the gem of all photos. It might just be my favorite picture of us together ever. We liked it so much, in fact, that we wished we had gotten it months ago so we could have turned it into a heartfelt xristmas card. Well, you know what they say, better late then ... ah fuck it. Merry xristmas!

I have a new theory.

All women will one day start a jewelry business. All women.

This occurred to Daniel and me while we were getting ready to watch the latest installment of the Really Desperate Housewives of Orange County. The info described Lynne – who is that? – starting her own jewelry business. This is after Laurie fucked around until she found a man with enough money to fund her jewelry business. And one of the housewives in Atlanta used the money from her husband’s NFL career to start her jewelry business. Not unlike the woman who was at On the Border (or OTB as the cool kids call it) the other night we were eating there when BJs was backed up, hocking her shitty jewelry she had undoubtedly “designed” as part of her startup company.

This is the thing that bothers me. You don’t design jewelry. Stringing beads in different patterns on fishing line is not designing. Massive pieces of turquoise surrounded by coiled wire … how beautiful. And let me guess: it’s all custom-made.

It’s all shit. Sorry, ladies.

Now that some of you know your predisposition towards starting jewelry companies, maybe you can hope to avoid the inevitable. But it’s highly unlikely. Speaking of highly unlikely, I’ve decided what the Febrehabruarv challenge will be. Sometimes I supplement the test of my less-than-iron will with caffeine depravation, or protein depravation … or like the failed Master Cleanse of Febrehabruariv … with food depravation. But this time, it’s a dare. A double dare. A physical challenge!

I will run 100 miles in 28 days.

So let me clarify. We all know my arthritic ass (or knees, as it were) cannot run 1 mile let alone 100. So it is going to be on an elliptical machine. And it averages out to about 4 miles a day, which I’ve timed as taking about an hour. If I go every day and run for an hour on the elliptical machine, I will eventually earn myself a few days off. And therein, I think, lies the key to success. I really think I can do this. And now that it’s on SideshoViD.com it is official. Rawk!

Yesterday morning I awoke with a strange desire to brew my own beer. It's been in the back of my head for a year ever since I brewed some apple cider for Thanksgiving '08, but I can't really say what brought it to the forefront. Never being the one to back down from another potentially disastrous project, I set out to the Homebrew Headquarters in Richardson. They have everything you need there as well as several employees who are MORE than willing to help you out with any questions you may have. Go check them out some time.

So I brought home an Australian Pale Ale. Trey has made it twice and his beer has been fantastic, so I figured why mess with a good thing. And I got some dextrose corn sugar because its more easily fermentable than table sugar. And then I got a bag of light malt extract. That's new, Trey never used that, so hopefully my beer will be way better than his. The can of Australian Pale Ale was actually a thick, molasses like syrup that contained all the hops and barley and some sugars. Adding more sugar = more alcohol, so I didn't mind supplementing.

Mix and boil. That's about the only step after sanitizing everything. And sanitizing requires little more than a bleach water soaking for everything involved. My coworker who is a master brewer once told me, sanitation is important, don't skimp on that step ... but also, bear in mind that people used to brew beer in animal skins over open fires with river water, so don't sweat it too much. Who knows how good their beer (or mead) tasted, but they still succeeded in getting drunk. And isn't that just the whole point?

So I made Daniel stand and stir while I was finishing rinsing the bleach off of everything. My little bitty pot started to boil over -- which we were prepared for -- so as it boiled, we scooped it into another bowl and were planning on boiling the wort in two stages. Pretty stupid, but feasible. So I'm in the bathroom rinsing when I hear, "OH NO!" Daniel was stirring with a plastic spatula and when he pulled it out, it no longer existed. The fucking thing had melted down to a stub. As Keiff later pointed out, the only portion remaining was the part stamped with "Caution: Not Heat Resistant." So there we were with a bowl full of cold wort and a pot full of hot wort and a heaping helping of melted plastic. Down the sink it went as I rushed to my car to speed to Homebrew Headquarters before they closed. And I bought another batch of ingredients ... and a 20 quart stock pot.

The second time, Keiff came over to help and it went rather smoothly. We boiled the wort for 15 minutes until it got this really nice, dark caramel color. Then we cooled it down as best we could in a sink of ice, added 4 more gallons of spring water and poured it into the fermenting bucket. I measured the temperature to be right at 80°F which is pretty ideal for the yeast, so I pitched them in. I was worried about them because they weren't bubbling by the time we went to bed, but this morning, they're burping away. I'm so excited. Keiff wants to make a batch now and I told him we could use my equipment and take turns buying ingredients. In a few weeks, we'll bottle, which is also pretty easy with the equipment I'll be borrowing.

And then it'll be Febrehabruarv. Double-edged sword there. Sure, I won't be able to drink the beer I just worked so hard to produce. But, the beer will also continue to improve with age. You have to wait about a week after bottling so the secondary fermentation in the bottle can carbonate the liquid. But they say if you wait up to a month it'll be worlds better. So that's just what we'll do. Beer tasting party at my house, March 1st. Who's in?

I do hope that 2009 has found you well. I've certainly had a helluva start. My two week long vacation is ending tomorrow and I just don't know how I am going to cope with it. I've had a good couple of weeks though.

First, my entire family came into town. I currently have 5 nieces and 2 nephews, and was just informed that there's another on the way! It was really fun to play with all of them and give them crappy gifts that they loved. Although, I will admit that the Hannah Montana electric guitar I got for my niece Kelsey was pretty rocking, even though it's already broken. So we did the whole xristmas thing and I spent more than a few nights driving between Addison and Allen to my parents new ridiculously large house. I got wine from my brother in the gift exchange and now the wine fridge is respectably stocked. And I got the new Nikon Coolpix camera from my parents. I highly recommend this little gadget. It is so freaking advanced. I guess when you only buy one camera every decade, they're bound to improve slightly.

The other reason everyone came was for my parents surprise 35th wedding anniversary. We'd been planning it for like a year (I helped a little) and had some extended family and a lot of old family friends hiding in the banquet room at Sneaky Pete's in Lewisville. Then when my parents came in with my sister for what they thought was an oddly dressy, far drive to Lake Lewisville just for dinner, everyone yelled HAPPY ANNIVERSARY and the merriment proceeded. DJ iMernex even DJed the party which was pretty fun. There was "free" beer and wine so I think everyone managed to have a good time and I know my parents really appreciated it. And I got the buffet leftovers so Daniel and I ate chicken and roast beef for a week.

Then we did xristmas with Daniel's family over at our apartment. His mom made filet mignon wrapped in puff pastry with some sort of filling. It was really good. We were in charge of vegetables so we served leftover green beens and potato wedges from the anniversary party. Waste not. Then we did a little gift exchange. His dad gave me a really cool shirt and a fedora that I adore. I think his sister helped pick it out, but it's pretty bangin. And I gave his brother guitar picks, guitar strings, and a guitar strap. And he was perfectly gracious even though I thought he might be like, "I don't have a guitar, you dick." But then I surprised him with the guitar I had wrapped up in the other room. It wasn't easy getting all that on the budget that was set but I managed to do it. g*d, I love pawn shops now.

Then there was New Year's Eve. We had a bunch of people over. There was a lot of food, dancing, tons of booze. We really had a good time. Gotta tell you though, it's that time of the year when Febrehabruarv starts sounding really good to me. I was thinking that maybe I wanted to do that master cleanse again, but then I read my blog from last year and decided against it. All the descriptions of sleepless nights, heart palpitations, and incessant heartburn jogged some memories I'd obviously repressed. Maybe in another year. I think I'll hearken back to the febrehabs of yesteryear when it was easy and fun, good clean living.

I think that brings us up to speed. Happy 2009, bitches. See you around..

My brother Michael is in town for xristmas, so I went over to my parents' house to see him and his family. When I went into the kitchen there were three bananas hanging on a hook and one of them had a smiley face on it. And the banana that his daughter was eating had her name written on it. But they weren't written on, per se, they had just rotted in such a precise manner as to produce these images. I have never heard this before, but if you "erase" a banana, it will rot. So you just take a pencil eraser, run it over the skin, wait about 20 minutes, and wherever you erased will be black. It is beyond cool.

My mom thought it would be funny to go to the grocery store and then when nobody is looking, write "BANANAS KILL!" on all of the bananas. You'd have plenty of time to get away undetected if anybody caught you doing it. I'm not sure I have the balls required to do that, but it's pretty funny to think of all the different options. Me? I decided to draw a monkey holding bananas. You can't really see all of him because he wraps around the fruit, but we did our best to snap a decent picture.

So that's my xristmas gift to you all this year. This newfound knowledge. As you come together with your family to celebrate the everlasting life of capitalism, take a moment to put some profanity on the bananas. It's the gift that keeps on giving.

Can I please tell you about my new favorite game -- Scene It? Seinfeld Edition. I'd been thinking about buying it ever since the first commercial came on TV, but I had no real reason to get up and go. Until one night when me and Keiff were sitting around drinking beers, bored, and I was like, yup, let's go to WalMart.

The reason this game is so fun is because its kind of like playing Trivial Pursuit. But instead of questions like, "In 1934, this Olympic curler became the first woman to win two silver medals," they have questions like, "What was Elaine referring to when she told Jerry, 'You can read the paper through the whole thing.'" And then you feel smart because during the hours each day that you could be reading and learning, expanding your mind and working toward the betterment of all of humanity, you're vegged out on the couch with a tempurpedic neck pillow watching syndicated episodes of Seinfeld you've already seen 12 times. Oh wait. Maybe that's just me.

Then again, the real reason I may like it so much is that I am currently undefeated. I'm not saying I'm undefeatable, because it's been real, real close a few times. But I always seem to luck out on the question for the win. The other night I was so desperate to play that I made Daniel play with me. Just the two of us. It wasn't really as much fun as it is with 3 or more. There's less of a penalty for getting something wrong because it'll just be your turn next anyway. But it was still pretty funny. The clips are all hilarious.

So if you're looking for a holiday party game this year, and you watch more TV 5pm-6pm and 10pm-11pm than any of your friends, I would highly recommend some Scene It? Seinfeld.

P.S. If this isn't the blog to display the Sidesho Seinfeld logo I made 8 years ago, I don't know what is.

My father called me the other night and opened the conversation with, "I've got some bad news for you. I am looking at a video right now of you running a red light."

You see, my car is still registered in my father's name so when a red light camera caught an infraction, the letter went to his house. I was understandably suspicious of the accusations though. If you've ever ridden in the car with me, you would be too. I don't run red lights. I don't even come close. So he told me the website address and citation code and I watched the video myself. What I saw was my Cavalier on 121 approaching Custer. As I approach the red light intending to turn right, I slow down, pause briefly to see no on coming traffic, and then go about my turn.

I tried to find a way to download the video to post here but I was unsuccessful, so you'll just have to enjoy this still frame. A few things I would like to point out that are interesting here in this frame. First and foremost, my brake lights are on. The light had been red for 26.21 seconds so it's not as if I incorrectly judged how much time I had. And my vehicle speed is clocked at a blazing 16mph. So I think I have all the evidence I need to make a case that I was driving defensively and responsibly. BUT, the law states that you must come to a complete fucking stop before making a right on red, so I don't really have a legal stand because I did not ever completely stop.

In general, I'm in favor of big brother. Mostly because I have nothing to hide. But at $75 a pop, this seems like more of a way for the city to drum up some funds than an effort to serve and protect. If a cop saw me make that turn, there's no way in hell he would have pulled me over. At some point common sense can selectively overrule traffic laws. If you pull up to a malfunctioning red light at 4am in the middle of nowhere and it won't turn green, and you go anyway rather than wait indefinitely, this system would issue you a ticket for that. And that's what I don't like about it. If a car approaches a red light at a crawl applying the brakes the whole way and turns onto a completely empty road, I do not consider that seventy fucking five dollars worth of a crime. That's just my opinion. What do you think about red light cameras?

Since our last underwater adventure, a few things have happened. First of all, I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving. I wouldn't call it Turkey Day because we didn't have turkey. I'm still not sure how I feel about that. Daniel's mother had a wonderful spread for us consisting of all kinds of seafood -- her oyster stuffing is amazing. But part of me longs for the days of College Station Thanksgiving extravaganzas with all the traditional fanfare. Maybe I'll go buy a turkey on sale today and cook it and immediately turn it into sandwiches.

Daniel and I have already exchanged our xristmas presents for each other. I got him a Whirlpool Duet Steam Washer. And he got me a Whilrpool Duet Steam Dryer. They are pretty badass. Tuscan chestnut is the color. And it does everything automatically. You don't have to tell it how big the load is or how long to wash or dry it. It has "sixth sense" technology and just knows. And the washer is an energy star appliance and the estimated yearly operating costs (based on the assumption of 8 loads a week) is $13. So yeah it's gonna pay for itself in just a few decades. I'm not suggesting everyone run out and buy one because it's far greener to just keep using what you've got, but if you're in the market for a washer and dryer and you're a baller, I would highly recommend the Whirlpool.

And our xristmas lights have been up for a few days even though we've resisted the urge to turn them on. Today is the day we'll fire them up. I went to Target one day to buy some dinosaurs for my nephew's birthday and I saw their lights. And they had "soft white spheres" LEDs. I loved em so I bought them just to show Daniel. And the next time I came home, he had taken floral wire, and wired each individual bulb to the window screen spaced out evenly. And it looks so cool. So we bought 5 more strands and did all the windows. Can't wait to turn em on and leave em on for the rest of the year. They should use so little electricity, I don't see why not.

This month has been rather sparse for me blog wise. I'm sorry that robots forced me to turn off all the comments on all the blogs. Hopefully they won't find this one right away, so you'd better leave em fast. Peace!

Tuesday morning I woke up and stumbled into the bathroom. I turned on my beloved space heater to start getting the bathroom up to 80° because I hate showering in the cold. I turned the water all the way to hot and then brushed my teeth, got undressed, flexed in the mirror a few times, brushed my hair the opposite way I slept and watched it stand straight up. All just a typical morning. Only this morning, when I went to get into the shower, the water wasn't hot yet. But it was warm so I got in and waited for it to heat up the rest of the way.

That's when Daniel busted down the door and screamed, "DAVID! THE WHOLE APARTMENT IS FLOODED!"

So I jumped out of the shower (which is way safer than jumping in the shower) and frantically dried off. In hindsight now, I see that when someone tells you there's been a flood, there's really no point to drying off when you get out of the shower. Anyway, I ran into the bedroom, all was fine. Out into the hallway, and I heard *squish* *squish* *squish*. The carpet was soaked through. So we squished out towards the kitchen. The *squish* turned to *splash*. There were 3 inches of standing water everywhere. The hot water heater had ruptured in the middle of the night and sprayed hot water on to the ceiling, which then rained down on the laundry room, seeped out and flooded the apartment. It must have been going on for hours for the amount of water that was everywhere. On the plus side, it was hot water, so it felt really good walking around in it.

We managed to get the water off and then called the emergency maintenance line. They were there pretty quickly to replace the water heater. Then a couple hours later a guy was there vacuuming up the water. He cut up the carpet and removed the saturated pad and then laid the carpet back down on the concrete. Industrial blowers and dehumidifiers were going for 2 days. We got put up in a furnished guest apartment here that had one shitty full sized bed in it that Daniel and I barely managed to share. And we had to have everything but big furniture off the carpeted areas before they would replace it. So the contents of our apartment were loaded into the bathrooms and kitchen. But Thursday they came and put down new padding and carpet and we finished moving back in yesterday. So, I'd say that 4 days is not too shabby for a turnaround from that.

Amazingly, nothing we own was damaged. The water was just soaking into the carpet by all of our electronics and they didn't get wet. Our clothes were in the closet that didn't allow water to seep through. Just the carpets were ruined. None of our doors work because all the baseboards have swollen so much, but I've been fixing that with a wood rasp. The front door is metal though, so I think we just have to slam it from now on. And that is my exciting news. How have you been?

My brother sent out this picture to my whole family. He said that he and his wife weren't really dressing up as anybody in particular, they just both chose wigs they liked so they could wear them to a party. But when he sent out this picture, he said he was going as me for Halloween. Flattered and a little impressed. It's always nice to know what you're going to look like 5 years from now. I have to say tho, Krista doesn't look a thing like Daniel. I don't think I'm going to dress up this year, so I'll also be going as me. I'm not even sure that I'll be doing anything this year. I already missed the block party downtown.

But I celebrated in my own little way. I bought a pumpkin and roasted the seeds with a sprinkle of clove, ginger, nutmeg, and cinnamon. Delicious. Then I also bought two eating pumpkins (they're small and green) and I cut them up and roasted them. So delicious. While I was in Australia, we had pumpkin a few times and I grew to love it as more than a canned pie filling. So that was awesome even though I sliced a couple fingers open. Those fucking pumpkins were like rocks. I finally had to just cleaver them open.

But more important than Halloween, New Year's Eve is coming up and I want to do something fun outside of Dallas. I was really thinking like a cabin on the lake with a few friends and a keg. But I really couldn't find anywhere within driving distance that I would want to go. Does anybody have any ideas of something fun they've done in the area? Lemme know. Kthanks.

Last weekend Daniel's old coworker was having a surprise birthday party. So we went over to her house around 8pm where her friends were setting up for a party. They'd gone all out with banners and streamers, plates of food, High School Musical novelty pom-poms ... I mean this party was NICE. And she came and we surprised her -- you shoulda seen her face, that's the best part -- and then we all just hung out and drank.

I was sitting on the porch when someone asked me if I could please try to blow up one of those long skinny balloons. Having played trumpet a decade ago, I have monstrously powerful lungs. So after nearly tearing my cheek skin, I got it blown up and tied off. Then I started twisting it around on itself pretending I knew what I was doing. What I ended up with was a big vagina with a penis penetrating it. Not exactly kid-friendly balloon art, but I was pretty pleased with myself. Considering it was the first balloon animal I had ever made, I didn't mind it being a beaver.

Later on we were standing in the kitchen and found the balloon pump that came with the balloons. So I blew another one up. And I looked at it. Thought about it for a second. And then one, two, three, twists later, I produced a giraffe much like the one pictured. All of Daniel's friends were like "what the hell." So Daniel told me that they all think I'm good at everything. Mostly because I pursue a host of interests, all with varying degrees of success. But I told Daniel that if they ever wanted to see me fail miserably at something, I would be happy to challenge any of them to a game of Horse on the basketball court. Because part of looking like you're good at everything is never being seen doing something you're horrible at. And that's my lesson to you for the day. If something is hard... quit. Peace, I'm out of here.

Holy hell the Vespa is fixed. It only took 6 months, but they were finally able to find the problem. It actually took me losing my temper to get the job done. But I'm not sure I'm taking that as a life lesson. I was exceedingly patient throughout the entire process, and while it didn't necessarily shoot me to the top of their to-do list, it definitely ended up with them liking me. So now I feel like if I needed something I could just call them up because I know them now. They ended up finding a leak in the engine so they took the whole thing apart. And while they were in there they found the oil shaft was not properly tightened down and was just floating around, occasionally floating in the way of the gear shifter which explained another leak and the difficulty changing gears.

Now that it's all fixed, I'm a much better driver. Not only was the bike keeping me from doing things correctly, but it kept me from thinking I could do things correctly. It's amazing what a little confidence will do for you. Now that it works I can shift smoothly and seamlessly and accelerate like a normal person. Some of it wasn't my fault and that feels really good. I rode to work all 5 days last week. The weather has just been made for motoring. I think I might take a nice long ride today, too.

In other news we did The Walk with Hanson. One mile barefoot across the SMU campus. It was to raise awareness of the plight of people in developing nations who truly cannot afford shoes. And let me tell you this -- walking barefoot sucks. I mostly hung back and just participated in the walk but Lindsey was determined not to let this opportunity slip through her fingers. So she went about meeting each of the brothers. Zac is her favorite and she's been wanting to meet him her entire life so when the chance to sidle of next him arrived, she took it. And what she meant to say was, "Oh gosh, I've wanted to meet you since I was eleven." What came out of her mouth was, "Seven oh gosh." To which he replied, "Seven oh gosh?" and Lindsey, realizing she'd just gone over a precipice just said, "Yup." and Zac jogged ahead a little bit.

So not exactly what she'd envisioned but it didn't matter because she met all 3 of them and then we went to their concert at the House of Blues and they rocked. So mission accomplished. Another reason we walked barefoot to see how bad it is is to encourage people to do something about it. I've talked about them before but TOMS Shoes gives one pair of shoes to a kid in a poor nation for every pair that you buy. And they're pretty stylish. And I finally bought a pair -- the green madras ones. Very cool. They're not high quality shoes, obviously, but they're cool and comfortable, and make you feel smug. So check em out.

There's a new commercial that's flooded all of my favorite channels for the Teeter Hang Ups Inversion System. It's basically this pivoting table that you strap your ankles in and then lean back and hang upside down. I used to use one in my yoga class in college and always loved the way it made my back feel. So I went to the Teeter website. $400. Give me a fucking break. I was relaying this story to a coworker as we walked around Wal-Mart on a lunch break and decided to go look and see if they had an inversion tables. And they did! Gold's Gym brand for about a 4th of the cost. So I bought it.

It took like 4 hours to put together. And it comes with a chain so that you can limit the angle that you can fall back to. The manual suggested limiting it to around 15° to start out with until your body gradually gets used to being inverted. But I was like fuck that I wanna go all the way. So no chain. I got on, threw my arms back, passed the pivot point of balance and flipped in one swift motion 180° until i hit the cross support bar and then hung there unable to get up. I was terrified, laughing hysterically, and fighting the rush of blood to my head all at once. I screamed to Daniel and he came and rescued me. Only to decide he wanted to try it himself and suffered the same fate.

But now I'm gradually lengthening the chain and I really like what it does. It just feels so good. I wish the ankle supports were more comfortable though because that's what really limits the amount of time I can spend in it. My feet go numb and my ankles hurt. I may come up with my own solution. More expensive models have boots you wear and I can probably make some.

Oh, in other news, the Allistralian and her fiancee Dom are keeping a travel blog of their 13 month trip around the world. And they asked me to set up their blog for them since mine is so kick ass. And I didn't want to tell you all about it until it was done ... and I'm not sure it is ... but it's close enough. So go check out whileyouwereworking.com.

Today we're going on The Walk with Hanson and then to the concert tonight. We might get to meet em. Mmmbop!

Ever since I started back at work, it has quite literally been kicking my ass. Well, not literally. I hate it when people emphasize LITERALLY when they clearly mean figuratively ... like I just did. But it has literally been exhausting me mentally and physically. Instead of accomplishing anything while I was in Sydney for 2 weeks, they expended more energy on shifting around schedules to buy more time. So now I have just as much to do, only it's all 2 weeks behind schedule and stacked on top of each other. Pretty bullshit. It's Saturday morning now and I'm about to head out to a construction site. My feet hurt so bad from the boots I had to buy. And my right knee gave out yesterday and can no longer really support my body weight. There's a reason I'm good with computers and not football. I'm not cut out for this.

Luckily, I've figured out what I want to do with my life. I was watching Modern Marvels, as I so often do, and the subject was bread. And they talked about the best thing since sliced bread, etc. But at the end, they talked about the rise of the artisan bread makers. It's basically like owning your own brewery, crafting your own local varieties and stuff. But I just think it would be so awesome to open up an artisan bread making company here in Addison! Circle. That way it would always smell good like bread, and hopefully people would stop buying loafs of commercially produced bread and just drop by the neighborhood bakery every day for something fresh and delicious. I just need some start up capital, because I already have everything else planned out, including the name. I call my bakery "Yeast Infection."

I'm here all week.

I am home again. After another full day of travel I finally landed back in Dallas a whole 3 hours earlier than I was supposed to. As was the theme of the traveling this time, my original flight home was canceled by the time I was ready to get on it. I got to see Daniel and I gave him his new pants (underwear) and lounge pants (pajama pants) from Peter Alexander, a poncy (fancy) little underwear shop in downtown Sydney. He looks awful smart in them. And my brother was in town for his last day of a business conference, so he took me to Kenny's! What a welcome home!

During my last week in Sydney, Al and I had some fun adventures. First we both went to get our hair did. I love the chick that cut my hair. She went to town on it. Allison called it classic Aussie metro. Then she got her hair dyed back to her natural color and got a real sassy short do. She's traveling for the next 13 months through lots of countries that don't appreciate blondes to any degree, so this haircut should last her through it. After we got all dolled up, we went to Al's leaving do (party) at the Fire House Hotel (pub (bar)) in North Sydney. She has lots of wonderful friends. But it was weird how they want back and forth and around the table and every single one of them was like "Well, it's just like when I lived in the UK for 6 months prior to my year of traveling around southeast Asia." And another would chime in, "Oh yeah, when I lived in the Carribean, I spent a year touring before I got my residency in Australia." And I'm just like who are you transient people? All of them have been all over the world, lived all over the world, and I'm just like Addison! rules!

But it was a really fun party. Two of the girls were especially fun and they called Daniel early in the morning while he was at work and tried to convince him they were Kylie and Danni Minogue. Even tho the accents were pretty authentic, he didn't fall for it. Shucks.

My last day there we took a guided tour of the Hunter Valley (the Aussie Napa Valley). We went to like 5 or 6 different cellar doors and drank some very good wine. I ended up buying 4 bottles, I think, but we drank some before I left. I brought home 3 bottles and some aged goat cheese from some Hunter Valley goats. So ridiculously good. And the Shiraz is just ... huge. I can't even explain it. That was major fun. So we did that, picked up Noodle Star take away (to go) and ate it with the shiraz. And then the next day I left.

So here I am. I do not work until next Tuesday, nor do I intend to check my work email or answer my work phone until then. So if anybody wants to hang out and tan or something, let me know. It's summer again for me and I intend to take advantage this week. Laaaaaaaaate.

They say you don't know a city until you walk it. "They" being the one and only travel book I've ever read that was left here for me by Erin and Jezza. So when Allison needed a day to herself to get some stuff accomplished, I decided to set out on foot. Armed with only a basic layout map of the city, I set out heading south. Allison lives in North Sydney and I wanted to go to South Sydney, the separation being the harbour. So I got to walk over the Harbour Bridge. That was one of my goals before leaving. It only took me about 45 minutes to get to Circular Quay where the Operahouse and all the touristy stuff is. My original plan was then to figure out the bus system and see the rest of the city. But I am just not cut out for buses. The first one I wanted flew by because I didn't know you had to flag them down. And the only other one I tried the guy yelled at me because he wasn't going where I wanted to go. So I was like fuck that and hopped in a cab.

He took me down to Oxford Street in Paddington. It's where all the fancy boutique shopping is. I walked up and down the street, stopped to have some lunch, but never really shopped. Everything was really expensive but not necessarily Aussie by nature. And if I ever feel like purchasing some expensive clothes, I can just do that in Dallas when I don't have to carry it through customs. So then at the complete opposite end of Oxford Street are all the gay bars, so I decided to just hoof it over there and check it out. And then Hyde Park was just on the other side, so I walked through there. And then Circular Quay was just up the street from there. And then just over the bridge. So I ended up walking an obscene distance, nearly 5 hours of walking minus the cab ride. But it's true what they say, I totally feel like I know the city now.

That night Allison and I revisited Oxford Street and got shitcanned. But on the way I told her, "Yeah I found a couple nice places we could go to. But it seems like all the places I thought looked good were actually hotel bars." And she laughed. Apparently in Australia a "hotel" is a bar. Some law forever ago said that if you served alcohol you also had to have places to sleep, so they became one in the same long ago and now it doesn't mean hotel anymore, it's just synonymous with bar. Before we went out, we stopped for some dinner and I said, "This place is awesome. It's so nice but the entrees are so cheap." And she laughed again. Apparently in Australia an "entree" is an appetizer and a "main" is an entree. That's what's so fun about being here. It's all in English so I'm not totally lost, but it's just wrong enough to keep me guessing.

After walking around Sydney for an entire day, visiting several museums, landmarks, botanical gardens, hotels and restaurants, I really felt like I knew a lot about the city. And it made me realize how pitifully little I know about my own town. I couldn't begin to name one restaurant in the West End. I've just always assumed I didn't want to. But it's stupid that I know more about every city I've visited in the world than I do about Dallas. So I made a decision. When I get back, I'm going to take a tour of Dallas. I'm going to buy a travel book, get a hotel downtown, walk all over the place, see the grassy knoll. All that shit. I'm not even sure I know what the travel books will say to do! It won't be easy convincing locals to join me in my wide eyed camera toting tour of downtown Dallas, but we're going to do it by g*d. Who's with me?!

The first time that I experienced jet lag was in Sweden 3 years ago. No matter what I did, every night I would lay awake through the night staring at the ceiling wide awake. I wouldn't start to get tired until about 6am, which was right around when I had to get up and go to work. It was awful. No matter how tired I was or how much I attempted to exhaust myself -- either through exercise or booze, I couldn't sleep at night. It took a full week for me to adjust.

I'm experiencing it again. Only this time, the opposite. Every night here around 8pm, I get excessively tired. A few nights I've managed to stay up until 10 or 11, but not past that. A couple nights I've fallen asleep at like 8. I tried taking one of my sleeping pills to encourage me to sleep in a little bit thinking that would help. That night I slept 13 hours and stayed in bed until 10, but it didn't help. It's just so completely independent of how much sleep I'm getting. I'm just prone to this anomaly known as jet lag. I'm hoping it will clear up soon. I'm going to try a power nap today. Because we have going away parties to attend this weekend and it won't be very good if I'm sleeping in the corner.

But I've still had plenty of time during the day to do some really fun stuff. Yesterday we went to the zoo and saw kangaroos, wallabies, koalas and dingos. But maybe my favorite part wasn't the animals, but the expansive view of Sydney Harbor from across the water. It really is a beautiful city. After the zoo we took a ferry over to the opera house. It was pretty crazy to be standing on the steps touching this super iconic landmark. The whole white part of it is actually like regular sized white tiles. I had no idea. So Allison and I sat at the opera house bar, had a cocktail, and watched the sunset. It was so wonderful.

The best part about coming and staying with Allison is that I'm getting a good balance between touristy activities and the locals. One night we went to the grocery store and bought a bunch of ingredients to cook a traditional Paesta. It's actually something we made up on our car trip home from Jervis Bay, but we decided to make it a reality. I remember when my grandmother used to make us a paesta on the holidays. The best thing about a paesta, though, is how it brings together family and friends. It ended up being a terrifying blend of vegetables, pasta, bacon, chicken, heaps of ancho chili sauce, and a few spoonfuls of an Aussie blend of Ranch dressing. It's a good thing that everything goes with ranch. Despite the improvisational nature of the dish, it actually turned out pretty good. So good that Dom had 4 servings -- and nobody is THAT polite, so I think he really enjoyed it.

I think today we're going to take it easy. We are going to get some acupuncture done because neither one of us have ever done it and Daniel always tells me how amazing it is. Aw, the only thing that could make this trip better is if Daniel was here with me. I miss him. Anyway, we're resting up today because tomorrow we're going on a vineyard tour of the Hunter Valley. So it's going to be a helluva day and we want 24 hours of sobriety prior to that. Should be interesting.

Well I made it to Australia. Let me tell you something. If you are planning on coming here, make damn sure that it is something you really want to do because it is not an easy trip. After my flight out of LAX was delayed 5 hours in the middle of the night, my total travel time was 27 hours. And then as soon as I landed Allison and Dom (Allison's fiance) and Erin and Jeremy (friends from America who are leaving on Monday) were all waiting for me. We were supposed to go to Jervis Bay at 7:30am when I landed, but instead I got in around 12:30. So immediately after getting through customs we hopped in the car and drove 3 hours south. Brutal.

As we were piling into the car Allison was like "You can sit up front." And I kind of paused, assessed the situation, and then said, "I really don't think you want me to drive." I'm an idiot. First time I've ever been in a country where they drive backwards cars. It was really weird. I couldn't quite get used to it. Every time we went around a bend in the road and I saw traffic coming toward us in what my brain was perceiving to be our lane, I would tense up for a split second thinking a head on collision was imminent. I was already a little shaky from no sleep.

But we finally got here. I knew it wouldn't be hot since we're in the souther hemisphere and we went so far south, but it's even colder than I thought it was. And there's not really a beach here. We're going to drive out today and find some beaches. But we got this really cute little 3 bedroom place right near the water. I fought and fought to stay away last night. We stopped at a grocery store and bought all kinds of meat and then bbq'ed it last night. I got a picture of myself throwing some shrimp on the barbie! Then we ate, explored, drank some beers. Finally around 10, I think my eyes closed for the last night and Allison took me to bed. So I woke up around 6am. I got up and turned on the radiators to warm up the place. And then I made a cup of tea and went out on the patio to just kind of look out over the water. And right then four bigass kangaroos hopped right in front of me. We saw some kangaroos over where we got the keys to this place. Like 15 of em. And then we saw two in the neighborhood eating out of a bowl someone had put out on their front lawn. And then this morning I saw those four. So I've already seen like 20 kangaroos. We were joking that it was working out so well that next we'd see a koala riding on the back of a platypus.

It was really fun out here. I loved doing something mundane like going to an Aussie grocery store. I read the ingredients for Vegemite -- yeast. Gross. I'm going to eat some when we get back to Sydney. I can't wait to see the big city but it sure was fun to be out here. I'll be back with more exciting stories soon. Peace.

I'll probably curse the day I bought the PedEgg soon enough. Each night when I'm finished using it, I marvel at how soft my feet are. And then the next morning I think to myself, "I could just run it over them one more time to be sure." And wouldn't you know it? They get even softer. I can see somewhere in the near future of both soles of my feet being one massive abbrasion. But it's so worth it. Daniel won't let me use it on him because he claims his hard earned calloused feet are the reason he is able to wear uncomfortable shoes. But I just know I could take a good quarter of an inch off.

In other news, I went to visit my motorcycle accident havin' coworker at his house. He's home from the hospital. All the scary stuff about fluid in lungs and broken ribs is past him. His color has returned and he's in generally good spirits. He has a titanium rod in one leg and then he had two broken ankles, one of which was operated on and still has no feeling. But he just has two boots on and has to use a wheelchair to get around. So all in all, not too bad. I try to cheer him up with stories of own infirmary and give him hints on how to keep from getting bored. But he refuses to take pain medication of any kind, so my top 3 ideas were just shot to hell. I wish there was more I could do to help but it'll just take time.

Speaking of motorcycles, I took the Vespa in AGAIN. They're going to look at it AGAIN. This time they think they know what's wrong. They called Vespa and described the symptoms and they were quite sure this is the only bike in the world that has ever exhibited these characteristics. Yeeeaaahhh, custom baby. They said if I dropped it off before I went to Australia that they would have it fixed by the time I got home. I don't believe them, but it's worth a shot. So I took it to them on Saturday morning. Man, was it a beautiful morning to ride. I was sorry to drop it off.

And lastly, I'm going to Australia. OMG. It's coming to fast. Since I'm not very good at planning a trip in advance, I encourage you all to leave me a comment with something you think I should do while I'm there. So far all I've thought of is getting a picture of me in front of the Sydney Operahouse. So that's already covered. Also, any advice for how to survive a 14 hour flight would also be appreciated. Thaaaaaanks.

Tonight I went to Bed, Bath & Beyond to buy a few things for my trip to Australia. The 14 hour flight is really starting to intimidate me. So I bought a Tempur-pedic neck pillow. I was going to buy a face mask, but I decided mine was probably good enough. And I bought a travel size of moisturizer because my hands always get so dry on a plane. Daniel was making fun of me that everything I was buying screamed old lady, so I kept saying, "Man I hope my mom likes all these gifts for her," as we walked around.

But you know me; I can't be in a store like that and not end up just wandering around looking for something to buy. And then I happened upon the as-seen-on-TV PedEgg. I've wanted to give one of these babies a test drive for a while. When we got home, I quickly assembled it and ran to the bathroom to try it out.

A little background story: Ever since my last knee surgery when I relearned how to walk, I've disproportionately distributed my weight onto my right foot. And it doesn't land exactly straight, so I developed this really thick callous on the inside of my right big toe. All the pumus stones and files of the world couldn't decrease it. Well, folks, I am ecstatic to announce that after a mere minute with the PedEgg, that rough, calloused skin is now soft and smooth. Same with my dry, cracked heels. They are completely healed! It's amazing! It completely works just as it is seen on TV, down to the parmesan cheese left inside to empty into the trash can -- vomit enducing. And you can just grate against your skin as hard as you want, and it only removes the thinnest layer of skin without any pain.

It's been a long time since I've purchased a product that worked this well. I think everyone should run out right now and buy a PedEgg. As an added bonus, when you're not using it on your feet, you can grate cheese with it. There. I helped you out!

It's been a while since I've updated. My apologies. I just returned from Las Vegas celebrating my brother Stephen's 30th birthday. It was a pretty big deal. The entire trip was kept a secret from him up until I took him and his wife to the airport. And then on top of that, it was another secret that me and my other brother, Michael, were on our way to the airport separately to meet and surprise him with our presence. It was pretty fun sneaking up behind him in the casino while he played video poker. After so many months of preparation, it was such a relief for the big reveal.

So we spent two days gambling, drinking, laying out by the pool, having some very fine high dollar meals, and seeing the Beatles LOVE show. Highly recommend. Also highly recommend Planet Hollywood. It's recently been redone and it is so nice. Nicer than the Bellagio, in my humble opinion. Crazy times.

His birthday was a little bigger deal than mine. I tried to keep the invite casual (I wanted to type "cas" as in short for "casual" there but I'm not sure how to spell it). I didn't even have a place for people to RSVP because I didn't want to get excited that anyone was coming. Daniel was kind of annoyed with me as we got ready to go out to the bar because he was hurrying me along and I was saying what's the point, no one's coming. He was like you always get this way on your birthday. So we got there, and DJ iMernex had reserved us a table. And then we sat. And sat. And sat. And no one came. Daniel was frantically texting people trying to get them to come to no avail. Finally before I called it quits I texted Keiff cause he had said he would try to make it after moving all day and he was on his way over. So hurray! Saved the day. Then we blew that hot dog stand and invited Lindsey over like we should have all along. Lesson learned. Next year, no party ... he said again.

My Harley riding coworker got in a really bad motorcycle accident this weekend. He has two broken ankles, a broken femur, broken ribs, and road rash. I think I need to go get some safety gear before I ride anymore. I'm paranoid now. Not that I wasn't before, but you get the point.

So good times, not much to report from the real world. Gearing up for Australia, dreading the 14 hour flight. But definitely excited. I'll keep you posted.

Our annual 3rd of July KaboomTown extravaganza, this year called Shish-Ka-Boom, was a huge success. I got off work pretty early and hit the grocery store on the way home. I picked up some beef shish-ka-bobs that were already skewered with vegetables. So much easier than trying to figure out the process on my own. And as an added bonus, the bargain expired meat bin is never without a few shish-ka-bobs, so a couple packages of them were half off -- just because they'd turned grey!

Then for dessert, I bought a huge thing of strawberries and a Sara Lee pound cake. I cut the strawberries in half and cut the cake into little cubes. Then I put them on bamboo skewers. I whipped some fresh cream with sugar and vanilla. And made a chocolate ganache out of Giardelli chocolate chips, two shots of real espresso, a teaspoon and a half of vanilla, and a little bit of fresh cream. I sprinkled the plate of dessert shish-ka-booms with a few random blueberries just so it would be red, white and blue. It was so delicious. I really think Ina might have approved of this spread.

Then we all watched the spectacular fireworks and got drunk. Not a single fight this year! So proud of all of our friends. Now tonight its time to switch modes to birthday celebration. My birthday is tomorrow so I arranged a little get together at a bar here in Addison. I purposely didn't put and RSVP thing on it because I'd rather just go out there with Daniel and drink a few beers and see who shows up. I didn't want to get a bunch of positive RSVPs and then be left at the bar alone crying. Set the bar low and be pleasantly surprised if it rocks. That's my new mantra.

So anyway, if you want to come, give me a ring and I'll disclose the secret location.

After 3+ years of all talk, I am finally going to do it. I just booked my non-refundable 22 hour trip to the land of Oz. On August 14th, I will lift off from Dallas ... and on August 16th touch down in Sydney, Australia. I wonder what TV is like on the other side of the planet. I can't WAIT to find out. Do you think they have DVR? Do you think they call it DVR? Do you think it records backwards?! This is going to be so fun. Oh and I might hit up a wine tasting or a zoo or an opera house while I'm in the neighborhood. But best of all, I get to see my lovely friend, the Allistralian on her home turf. I will be gone for two weeks returning on August 27th. Best part of the flight home is I touch down almost before I take off. I will bring news from the future.

After booking my ticket, I was kind of on a roll. Like you do. So I went and ordered my KitchenAid copper stand mixer for my birthday. Really it's a birthday present from Daniel, but we used my credit card to get it. It's going to take a week to get here, but I really excited about it. I'm going to whip cream to stiff peaks.

Man, I'm more excited right now than Evan on American Gladiators. Rocket is the best Gladiator. And he's my friend on Facebook. I love TV.

We just went to listen to Salsa in the park here in our neighborhood. Turns out I really don't like salsa music. I had fun last week but the band was much better. Oh and I was waaha-hay-hay-hay-sted. So it was sounding good. Tonight I exited early. I basically woke up in time to go listen and it's hot and the band was terrible and I wanted I wanted to sit on the TV and watch beers. So I came home.

Oh, last bit of news. KaboomTown is next week. Everyone's invited. This year we will serve various skewered meats and vegetables. As well as skewered pound cake and strawberries to dip in chocolate. I call it ... Shish-Ka-Boom. You should come. And then the 6th is my birthday again. But this year it falls on a Sunday, so on Saturday July 5th, I am having a little gathering at a bar here in Addison! if you would like to join me. That would be awesome. Czech you all on the flip side.

I had a couple of firsts today. I've been riding the Vespa to work every day. I'm currently averaging 85 miles per gallon and I went an entire week without driving my car once. I'm over the learning curve hump and am actually starting to relax a little bit on my hog and enjoy the open air. I'm still cautious, though, because I check the weather every morning before I ride to make sure it isn't going to rain. Today's forecast said a 30% chance of rain, so off I went putting down the street. By lunch time the sky was starting to darken, so I ran out the door, hopped on my scooter and sped off as fast as I could toward home. My plan was to get home and drive my car right back.

I made it as far as Midway before the sky all around me turned black. Gale force winds blew leaves high in the air in swirling patterns and threw me from my balance a few times. I was already going slow, but I kept having to slam on the brakes and put my feet down. Not just to catch my balance but to then brace myself against the blast. It was so scary. And yet for some reason I was laughing and enjoying myself. When it finally started to rain, I pulled into the first parking lot I came to and ran inside. It was a delightful office furniture store with a very friendly staff. They advised me to park under the alcove of the front door so my scooter wouldn't blow over. One tree fell on a guy's car when I was there. It was an insane storm that only lasted about 30 minutes. But we all were like away from the windows and fearing the worst. When it cleared a bit I ran the gauntlet back home and all was well.

But it was the first time I've ridden my Vespa in a tornado. And hopefully the last.

My next first was when I got home from work. I decided to go by myself to a hip-hop dance class. My gym offers a different class every night and they're all free. So I've decided to attend them all. I have kick boxing on Thursday. Hip-hop dance was pretty fun. It was basically an instructor trying to teach me and 3 fat women how to do a dance routine. Only we were all terrible so it easily filled the entire hour. I wasn't too too bad, even though the kick-ball-change took me a while to get down. I'm definitely not a hip-hop dancer by trade. It doesn't lend itself well to my clear-a-one-arm-radius-in-front-of-the-mirror dance style. Even so, I still warned Daniel that when I got home, he was getting served.

She said next week we should bring a friend because we're going to be battling. Who's in?

I just got back from a week in San Antonio. I was there to take a training class for work. It was from 8-5 every day in the hotel I was staying at next to the airport. Needless to say I was bored out of my gourd. I took this picture as I was checking out of my hotel room because I thought it rather succinctly summed up my entire trip. People in my training course were kind of laughing at me because I was eating each night at places like Papadeaux's and Applebee's. They thought I should get out and experience the local fare. But I was just like, c'mon, I'm from Dallas. It's not like San Antonio is a foreign country. If I managed to find something uniquely San Antonio it would just be a hole-in-the-wall Mexican place with meat, cheese, and tortillas combined in a variety of ways. So I opted to eat at places I liked, albethem chain restaurants, because it was free. And that made it special.

So I made it through the week with little incident. Last night Daniel and I went with JennyCole to see the new Sex and the City movie. It was fantastic. If you haven't seen it yet, you definitely should. We went to the Studio Movie Grill to watch it so we could get loaded at the same time. But ultimately, the same thing happened to me that always happens there. I end up having to pee so bad by the time the movie's over that I have a hard time sitting still. But I made it through. There was one thing about the movie that pissed me off. And it's not a spoiler, but if you don't want to know anything about the movie don't read this next part. So Charlotte adopted that little Chinese girl, right? And what did she name her? Lily. How many times have I said that I'm adopting a little Asian girl and naming her Lily because I want violin music while I eat? But I also always said that if I had another little girl, I would name her Rose. Not so much because of the obvious floral reference, but because I like the really old-timey names. Okay, so Charlottle has a baby and they name it Rose. So now if I ever by some fluke of nature have two daughters, and name them Lily and Rose, people will be like, oh yeah from Sex and the City. And that will piss me off. So I'm having my tubes tied.

In other news, the Allistralian came back to the states for a visit. She is leaving Australia soon and convinced me that it's now or never if I want to go visit her. So Daniel and I are going to Australia. For REAL this time. No joke. It'll probably be somewhere in the August range. It's gonna be a pretty baller ass vacation, but that's okay because those are the kinds of vacations we need to be taking. I'll keep you all posted on details of that. If anyone would like to go with, the more people we have the easier that 12 hour flight will be. Lemme know. Peace out.

My custom seats finally arrived. They are brown Louis Vuitton print. It just made my hog like 100X cooler and probably severely upped the resale (and the chances of getting it stolen). I've gotten great comments from people on the street as well as a couple of enthusiastic women holding up their matching purses to me at red lights. I just couldn't be happier, so I shined her up for you and took a picture. Suck on this.

I successfully rode the Vespa to work this week. It was a little unnerving at first, but once I got going, it was pretty comfortable. It did highlight the fact that I need to buy some gloves. 50 degrees doesn't sound cold until you're moving through it at 45mph. My hands hurt by the time I got to work. But I did it. On the way home it was so windy that I had a hard time balancing, so I found an alternate route home that took me entirely through residential streets. It took nearly 45 minutes, but it was way preferrable to braving the high winds on a major thoroughfare. I only did it one day because there has been questionable weather and high winds predicted every day this week, but I think it could become my main transportation throughout the summer months.

Daniel has been in Atlanta all week. Sunday was his birthday and he had to fly out for some training for his new job. Unfortunately, by the time his flight landed he was sick. He's had to miss out on most of the activities and just lie in bed. Being in a different city for work is bad enough. Not being able to drink must make it near unbearable. He comes home tomorrow though, which I'm pretty excited about. TV isn't any fun to watch when no one is there to hear your snide remarks.

Speaking of TV, I made another as-seen-on-TV purchase! Stephen's daughter's birthday is coming up in July and he said she would really like the Roll 'n Grow. The commercial shows a green foam pad that you roll out, water, and then an insane amount of flowers bloom from it. I hate to disappoint her this early in life by her finding out that not everything works like they show in the commercials, but I also hate to disappoint myself by not buying it for her. So I had to get it. She'll be excited to open it I'm sure. And as with every stupid purchase I make -- who knows? -- maybe it does work. We got on the topic because 20/20 did a big scientific study of Kinoki Pads. The bastards must have been reading my blog and stealing ideas. They couldn't get the company to produce any lab results to back up their claims. But I think the most telling demonstration was when they put distilled water on the pads and they turned brown. No labs could find any traces of toxins or heavy metals or whatever else they claim. Too bad, I was really hoping this would be a cure all for the human race. I guess the hunt is still on.

So I need another suggestion for TV purchases. The AeroGarden that Thommi suggested it a wonderful idea. It's a little expensive for an impulse buy, but then again, my birthday is just around the corner and I do love getting myself a little something special.

I need to go clean the apartment. As I guessed would happen, my intentions to keep the apartment pristine while Daniel was away failed miserably and now I have to make up for it within the next few hours. Late.

Old men confuse me. Maybe there's a magic age at which everything they do starts to make sense and I just haven't reached it yet. Perhaps on my 30th birthday everything will become clear. One thing that has always confused me is how old men insist on being naked in the locker room at the gym. Don't get me wrong; I'm no prude. I strip down to go into the sauna. The key difference is that almost immediately after disrobing, I wrap a towel around my waist to spare people the blinding reflection off my ass. Old men strip down, weigh themselves, wash their face, look in the mirror, talk to other old men, and then and only then do they throw a towel over their shoulder and flop over to the steam room. I don't get it. What's the fascination with being naked? Have their wives banned the practice at home for so many years that the only way to get the liberating sensation of free balling around a room is in a men-only environment? Do I have any old man readers that can explain this? Do I have any young readers that get a thrill from streaking?

I had to add another confusing trait to my quandary today at work. We have several old men there and they all share a perplexing act in another all-male venue -- the bathroom. They pee without using their hands. I've seen them put both hands up on the wall in front of them. Hands on the hips is also a very popular tactic. Today topped it all though. The new old guy was peeing with both hands in his pockets. How is this even possible? Do they just not care anymore if their stream wanders off onto the floor? Is there some sort of rigor that sets in after 40 that allows for steady hands-free aiming? It's so bizarre. Please, somebody, help me understand. Do I need to start practicing now for old age?

Last night I tried my Kinoki Foot Pads for the first time. After a night of significant drinking, I decided their first test would be to draw my hangover out of my body while I slept so I would awake feeling refreshed. Daniel tried a pair too. An hour before bed we washed our feet in the bathtub and even ran a pumice stone on our soles to try and open up a path for toxins.

You open the pad, apply it to this big adhesive sheet and then stick the whole thing on the bottoms of your feet. We decided to put socks on over the pads so they wouldn't come off and that ended up being a good decision because they kind of leak. I immediately felt something. I'll grant you that I was drunk, but there was a tingling sensation. So I was gaining confidence that maybe they didn't do nothing. In the morning, my socks were a little bit brown from the Kinoki juice that leaked out. I wouldn't call it a confirmation, but I didn't feel as bad as I thought I would. I should have had a regular sized hangover, but it was less. So much so that I went to the grocery store and cooked us a really big breakfast of pancetta and fontina cheese omlette croissant sandwiches. You don't make up recipes that unless you've been revitalized in mind and body.

I have to say, though, that the biggest testimony to their effectiveness is that Daniel got up at 10:30 in the morning. A mere 8 hours after we had gone to bed. This is, like, at least 4 hours earlier than usual. I think they might work. The test will be to see if they get lighter and lighter as I use them. You can only use them every other night, so it will take me a while to get through the 5 remaining pairs of pads. But I'm hopeful.

Probably the most disturbing thing about these pads is their smell. They are brown and liquidy and leaking and make your feet tingle. But then you take them off in the morning and there is the overwhelming smell of barbeque sauce.  The fact that they look like barbeque sauce only stands to reinforce this olfactory conclusion. I threw my pads away but I am curious to compare the ingredient list against that of some A-1 and see how much they have in common. In the meantime, though, like I sometimes do, I decided to lend my advertising genius to Kinoki for free and put together this brand new marketing graphic for them.

Stand by for my final verdict, but I'm seriously undecided at the moment. Peace.

Omg, I don't believe it. I bought a Vespa! I went to the dealership today to look at them, but I also told myself that if they had exactly what I wanted, I was going to just buy it. And they had exactly what I wanted. After comparing the red and the black, I decided to go with the red model. Mostly because I ordered some custom Louis Vuitton seats for it that they have to have made, so they're not on it yet. But it looked pretty smart against the red. I also looked at their financing plans and they all sucked ass, so I decided to just shell out the dough and pay cash. So it's totally mine, tax, title, and license. I need to get a parking sticker for the garage here. It's currently parked in our indoor hallways outside our door. And I need to get insurance for it. And a chain. But as you can see in the picture, I do at least have a sweet ass helmet.

The guy who delivered it also spent about 30 minutes teaching me how to ride it. We rode over to a parking lot and he taught me how to turn it on and use the clutch because its standard and I've never ridden a scooter or driven a manual car. So he was really nice and patient. And I was pretty good at it right away. Stalled out once and that was it. I haven't been on a street or out of first gear yet because its freezing balls tonight and it was getting dark when he delivered it, but tomorrow should be fun learning. They also said I could come by and get comfortable on one of their old beat up models that they use to teach people so I wouldn't accidentally trash mine in the process. Oh g*d, I'm so excited.

Last bit of news, I wanted to mention that I finally made it over to the Addison Improv last night to see Charlie Murphy. That guy is fucking hilarious. And he looks exactly like Eddie. And he moves and has mannerisms just like Dave Chappelle. So funny. See him if you get the chance.

Okay, I gotta go look at my scooter again. Peace.

Last Thursday Aaron Carter -- son of the famed N'Sync member, Nell Carter -- was arrested in Junction, Texas for possession of marijuana. When reached for comment, Carter said only, "Oh, dag! I'm in trouble!"

I find two things about this story interesting. First, it's a good way to dispel the rumors going around that Texas had decriminalized possession of small amounts of marijuana. When in fact, if you had, say not enough weed to roll one joint AND a medical marijuana card in your possession. You're looking at jail time. Now, let me just make it clear that I do not do marijuana cigarettes, nor do I have any desire to, but I think that these laws are so ridiculous. Texas just needs to wake up and realize that smoking weed is no longer a purely Mexican habit like it was in the 1800's so the racism behind the law has kind of fizzled out, and therefore is no longer any fun.

The second thing I found interesting that nobody cared to mention or explain is... what the hell was Aaron Carter doing speeding around Junction in his Cadallac Escalade? If you were to locate "Nowhere" on the map, Junction would be smack dab in the middle of it. And he was alone, so it's not like some tour bus convoy got stopped. So bizarre. He was probably buying weed.

In closing, I'd like to thank Allison and Keiff for emailing me this news story before anyone else had seen it. What does that say about me that they knew it would be big news to me? I guess the same thing it says about them. I'm going to make my stance clear though. FREE AARON CARTER! Why? Why shouldn't he be subject to the same laws that govern our society? 5 Words: Aaron's. Party. (Come. Get. It.)

You're welcome.

I am eating my words right now. And that is all that I am eating. I said I wanted a Febrehab that would truly be a challenge for my iron will, and I've gotten it and then some. This is unlike anything I have ever experienced. Near starvation every waking hours. There's never a moment's respite from the screaming hunger. I was told it would eventually go away but my body is resisting the reprogramming. At this point, I am going to say I will never do the Master Cleanse ever again. I don't know how I'm going to make it for two weeks, because I am beyond miserable right now. Maybe like a regular rehab, day 3 is always the worst. Maybe tomorrow will tip the scales in my favor. I sure hope so. Although, even if I'm in pain and misery for two weeks, I still won't waver or cheat.

I am losing dangerous amounts of weight, even though the scales say I gained a little bit back today. Still, 5 pounds in one day hardly seems like a healthy amount. And I guess the cleanse itself is working. Since I haven't put solid matter into the equation in three days and I keep getting solid matter out, it stands to reason that it has been inside for some time. And I think it makes sense to flush it out every once in a while. So I'm feeling encouraged there.

My sense of smell is starting to become more acute. I'd read that I could expect it to be a heightened sense, but I don't really think I smell any better. I just think I zero in on food odors. Which is to be expected. I can smell and identify everything that is within noseshot of my cubicle all day long and it is just torture. I am craving cheap fast food Mexican at the moment with margaritas and cigarettes. This March party is going to be off the heazy. Even though March 1st I'll be in OK for my niece's birthday party. But when I get home, it's on. So be looking forward to that. I'm going to go lay on the couch, conserve calories, and wait for American Gladiator, brother.

I. am. so. hungry. But I made it through the day. Supposedly the hunger fades by day three and then it's smooth sailing. You would think it would be torturous, but I find that smelling food actually helps. I cut up some garlic for Daniel's guacamole earlier and the smell of raw garlic on my hands almost makes it as though I'd eaten it. I wonder how tomorrow will be. I've definitely gone a day without eating in my lifetime -- though admittedly, not since college -- but I don't think I've ever gone two days.

The laxative tea was not really a laxative. I noticed nothing out of the ordinary when I woke up in the morning. I didn't even need to go to the bathroom. But that lasted only until I drank the saltwater flush. You mix two teaspoons of salt into a quart of water. It's kind of like a salt flavored big gulp. And it was hard as hell to drink. And it went through me faster than a Coors Light ever has. But after that brief morning episode, the rest of my day was normal, gastrointestinally speaking at least. I was a smidge light headed in the late afternoon but some lemonade helped. If it wasn't for the cayenne pepper, the lemonade would be just plain delicious. But that heat the pepper provides is so out of place. I would omit it altogether but I promised to follow the rules to the letter. I'm a lot more confident about being able to pull this off while at work all day. I was afraid I would be chained to the toilet.

Other than being hungry this is pretty easy. But even the hunger subsides after a glass of lemonade. It's going to be so nice not to worry about food for a couple of weeks, but looking ahead on the calendar and realizing how long I've committed to this for... phew. It's daunting. I will say that much. But there's really nothing I can do about it now, other than hunker down and reserve calories. My daily weight chart is already showing a downward trend and I can only imagine it will continue. I'll post results at the end. Wish me luck. I'm gonna need it.

24 hours down, 672 more to go. Today was a breeze, mostly because I'm hardly the hard living party monster I used to be. I had a slight hangover after our anniversary dinner at Kenny's. A few tequila cocktails, a couple martinis, and half a bottle of wine rightfully should have KO'ed me for the day but I felt strangely good. Eating vegan was relatively easy since I had stuff on hand. Ever since last year, I've kept up eating vegan dishes -- just not exclusively. I really think this first week will be a breeze. Then the cleanse starts.

In other news, what the fuck is up with Dannon? Yes, Dannon, the yogurt company. Daniel first pointed it out to me a while ago but it's just gotten worse. They keep making shit up that sounds like Harry Potter spells. They might as well hire him as their spokesperson. I can just imagine some old black lady doubled over and a spritely little British kid busts in and yells, "Bifidus Regularis!"

Or the new one I just heard tonight. Some fat bitch has irritable bowel syndrome until Hermione screams, "L. casei Immunitas!" Remember when Aaron wouldn't stop talking about his irritable bowel syndrome? g*d, that was so gross.

Anyway, Dannon is so making this shit up. It doesn't even sound scientific, which is really the hallmark of a good invented term. Take "glycemic index" for example. I'm not saying anything about the yogurt one way or the other. I just think their marketing department is probably a bunch of douches. Peace out.

I think I might have made a slight error in judgement when I hastily shelled out the ridiculous amount of money that I did for this Sweeney Todd style straight razor. It's supposed to give you an unbelievably close shave. Instead what it gives me is a Jackson Pollack neck and face. Tonight I ran to get my camera when I was done shaving to try and capture the utter horror that was facing back at me in the mirror. This picture is after some of the redness had gone away and after I washed off the lather, inadvertently clearing the trickles of blood. It is so incredibly painful. My face will now sting for like two hours, or until I go to bed. And the best part is, I'm left with a thick stubble on my face for all my troubles. It's amazing how I can remove 8 to 10 layers of skin but leave the hair completely intact.

In my defense, I did not receive any formal training on how to shave and after doing some reading on the internet, I may be doing things incorrectly. The jerkoff that sold me the razor was just like, "Uh yeah, you put it against your face and the hair comes off." So I thought it would be that easy. But it's not. You really have to use a surprising amount of force to get the blade through the hair. And every fucking time I drag it across my skin, I feel afterwards and there is a full healthy beard left behind. So tonight I made the fateful decision to shave against the grain with my freshly honed (or stropped) blade. The hair is a little shorter, although I am no smoother, and my face is on fire.

I suppose that's why they call it the art of shaving. I don't suppose you can pick it up and get it right the first time. One website I read suggesting trimming only your sideburns for a few times and shaving normally on the rest of your skin. And then when you've got that down, venture a little further until you eventually shave your whole face. I might rethink my entire approach here and start over that way. One thing I don't intend to do is give up. It may be painful, dangerous, and draining, but I'm going to stick with it for a while longer. I paid way to much to just cut and run.

Get it?

Anyway, I'm off to sulk and watch TV. Only three more days until Febrehab starts and I can't wait. Czech you have-nots later if I haven't gotten tetanus by then.

I had something completely different planned for this blog but when I started my typical hours of research, I came across something infinitely better. This dude in San Marcos named Scott Wade makes what he calls "dirty car art." Using the dust that accumulates on the rear window of vehicles as his canvas, he creates impermanent masterpieces. I had so much fun clicking through the gallery on his website, that I just had to share it with all of you. I chose my favorite one for the sample. He said it was meant to be funny but turned out "a little creepy." Brilliant. If you click that picture, it will take you to his website, dirtycarart.com, and you can check out his entire gallery for yourself.

 In other news, I have finally caught up with the latest in 17th century technology. In a little impulse buy the other day I picked myself up a proper straight razor. Like just a razor sharp blade that I am learning to shave with. I thought I would pick it up and go to town, but it's a little bit intimidating. The best part about it, though, is that the protective cover is made out of buffalo horn! It's so pretty. I asked the guy if the buffalo died of natural causes and he said, "Sure, why not?" so you know that no animals were harmed in the making of it. The first night I got it, I oiled up, lathered up with my badger hair brush, and then shaved half my face. 45 minutes later I was tired of it so I shaved with a normal razor and I'm going to try again in a few days. I intend to stick with it until I'm good at it just because it's so cool looking. My favorite part of the experience -- by far -- was when I was checking out and they had some sandalwood essential oil at the counter. And I asked the guy what essential oils were and he said, "It's cologne. But it's just the essential oils, there's no alcohol." To which I immediately replied, "Now when you say 'no alcohol,' do you mean 1%?" And he took me completely seriously and said, "No. I mean NO ALCOHOL!" I could have died right then.

And finally today, in serious picture news, they found signs of life on Mars. Not life itself, just a statue that ancient Martians built in honor of the American Sasquatch. It's a pretty exciting find. I didn't believe it myself until I saw it on every news site on the internet. Some people are calling it bigfoot on Mars, some are saying it's just a humanoid form, and some are saying it's a replica of the Mermaid in Copenhagen. Which are all really good ideas. What no one has said is that it's just a clever shadow on a rock and nothing to get excited about. I prefer to believe it is a statue and there used to be intelligent life on Mars. That would just make my life. Oh, also, did you know that I'm obsessed with Mars? I want to live there. Unfortunately, I doubt that'll happen in my lifetime. But still, even if this picture is just a rock formation with convenient lighting, it's still bad ass, eh? I'm out.

I make some of my best decisions after a few drinks. You wouldn't have to look any further than my set of Ronco knives to know that. But I have another example now. A 37" flatscreen LCD! I had a little money to spend from xristmas and I was debating between a dining room table with all the necessary accoutrements or a TV and a Wii. At a post-new-years finish-the-keg party, RyanShort and Daniel collectively convinced me that a TV was the way to go. So at 3 in the morning, we jetted off to Wal-Mart to get one. The first store didn't have the one we wanted so we went to another and stopped at Whataburger on the way. I haven't done that in forever. Their taquitos are as good as ever, so that made me glad. And we got the TV, bungee corded the trunk closed and brought it home and set it up at 4 in the morning. It's a Vizio and it has a really good picture, we just don't have any HD signals to feed to it. But Planet Earth look pretty spectacular.

Then we set off to find a Wii. Turns out, that's impossible. Well, impossible for someone with a life. I could spend my days calling stores, figuring out delivery schedules, and standing there waiting for a Wii to come in. Unfortunately, I am employed. So I call a few stores each weekend and they laugh at me. Just as well though, I accidentally overdrafted my account the other day. Not entirely because I'm broke but also because of an accounting error on my part. Nonetheless, it opened my eyes to the fact that I've been spending rampantly for months and have to stop. So I decided no Wii until I'm debt frii. Realistically with Febrehabruariv right around the corner, I can't imagine that won't be March. And we likely won't find one then either. But if anyone has a Wii they're willing to see at face value, let me know. I might take it off your hands in a little bit.

And finally, Febrehabruariv, the first leap year, I am looking so forward to it. Giving up food this year for the middle two weeks. The surrounding weeks, I'll be weaning off and then slowly acclimating back to food. Creech said he was shipping me the book on how to properly do the Master Cleanse, so I'm looking forward to reading that. I'm going to follow it to the letter, no matter what. If I'm in the hospital for malnourishment, I'll be pushing the IVs away. I'll definitely keep everyone posted on that, because it could either be torture, or another inadvertent success. Either way I can't wait. Peace.

Happy New Year! I hope this post finds you all enjoying what's passed of 2008. I had a wonderful time here at home with a few friends. Daniel went and bought ridiculous amounts of streamers and balloons and we strung them up everywhere. At midnight we tore it all down and stomped on the balloons like crazy people. Then we drank lots of champagne and I went to bed fearing the ensuing hangover. But I lived to tell the tale, so I guess we can call that a win.

We also made it to the gym again this week. I was afraid that after the holidays and a real spotty workout regimen that I wouldn't be able to lift anything but I ended up adding 20 lbs to my bench press, so that was good. It was hard to get anything done though because of the dreaded influx of resolutioners. People that have never worked out a day in their life, but always decide that January 1st will be the magic switch they flip and get hot. They're easy to spot. They walk around aimlessly randomly working every muscle group. They have on BRAND new sneakers and matchy matchy track suits. They spend LOTS of time stretching only to get on a treadmill for 3 minutes before wandering off to something else. It really is annoying. So I just wanted to tell all of you resolutioners...

Give up now.

You're going to by March anyway, so why make the rest of us suffer for 2 months out of every year? If you find the gym to be an intimidating place that's because people that regularly inhabit it are making you feel unwelcome. We want you to leave so we can get back to our year-round routine. Now I'm not saying that I don't want resolutioners to exist. I just don't want them at the gym. Continue to go out and sign up for the 3 year membership because your dues help pay for nice things for the rest of us to use. Just don't come and hog the sauna.

So that's my public service announcement. If you're really concerned with getting in shape, then spend January and February getting your diet in line and walking around the block. That way you'll be ready in March to add in weight training and cardio and the gym won't be nearly as crowded as it is when you go once a year in January.

Last night we were watching Planet Earth with RyanShort. He's only seen the BBC version narrated by John Hammond, and we've always told him how much better Sigourney Weaver is. I think it was Ice Worlds that we were watching and they were showing a hawk swooping in to kill some ptarmagin. I decided to relate to another episode where Sigourney refers to hawks as the fighter jets of the bird world. Only, I was going to jazz it up by saying, "Hawks are the F-16s of the bird world." Only, I actually said, "Hawks are the F150s of the bird world." I'm such a tard. So we had a good laugh and made lots of comments in our best Sigourney voices like, "With their four wheel drive and extended cabs, hawks truly are the F150s of the bird world."

Maybe my head was a little bit out of it due to the pumpkin pie martinis I attempted to make last night. We had one at the Bacarat Bar in Bellagio and it was so delicious that I asked the waitress what was in it and she said vanilla vodka, goldschlager, and pumpkin pie puree. So I combined all 3 and it was just terrible. So I added more vodka. When that didn't work, I added more pumpkin. When that didn't work, I added milk. By now things were way out of hand. I checked the recipe on the back of the can of pumpkin puree and you're supposed to add evaporated milk and sugar. Derrrr. We totally forgot to sweeten it. Turns out, pumpkin out of a can is pretty disgusting. I always thought you just spooned that into a pie crust and ate it. Someone should invent that. But of course, I was out of sugar, so I made some simple syrup out of brown sugar, ladeled in a few heaping scoops of the resulting liquid and then, the now full pitcher, held a delcious holiday concoction. Unfortunately it was way to thick and filling so we each sipped half a glass and washed the rest down the drain. But now that I know what I did wrong, i think I could make it again much better just by adding sugar from the get go.

In other news, I'm officially writing a cookbook. Not for the inevitable fame and fortune that comes with it, but because I want to be a guest judge on Iron Chef America. And as far as I know, writing a cookbook is the best and fastest way to get there. How hard could it be? If you've known me for a while, you should be able to guess the title. I can't post it here though because I don't want it to get stolen from me.

And finally, today, I think we'll close with a one-liner. My parents got their free slip-resistant covers for their Wii remotes, affectionately known as Wii condoms. But they only got two, so we have two with condoms, two without. Stephen asked me if I needed one with a condom, but I didn't, so I put the strap around my wrist and said, "You know what I always say. If you've got a strap on, you don't need a condom."

Good night everybody!

Las Vegas was a blast, just like I knew it would be. Daniel knew that we were staying at the Bellagio for his graduation gift, but what he didn't know is that we had a deluxe lakeview suite on the corner and that chocolate covered strawberries and champagne were waiting for us when we got there. So that was a fun arrival. We looked out our windows and played with the electric drapes for a while before hitting the town. We mostly played Wheel of Fortune and Monte Carlo slot machines -- the two most popular ones with bonus spins possible. Neither of us lost as much money as we had planned on losing, so in that regard, we won. One night I even drank until I was wasted and the casino paid me $10 dollars to do it. If that isn't winning big, I don't know what is.

So that was our strategy. To try to drink all night and pay less than what we would have paid at the bar. Since a beer was anywhere from $6 to $8 at most bars, that really wasn't hard to do. Here's a couple helpful hints for any of you heading over to the desert. The first time the waitress comes around, tip her something good. $5 should do it, $10 if you're looking to get wasted. Then they'll take care of you by replacing every empty bottle with a full one. You might have to fuel the fire every few rounds with a few ones, just to keep her thinking she might get more money out of you once you get drunk. The other key factor is to make your money last a long time at the slot. The only effective way to do this is to not play. We would put money in, pull it once, light a cigarette, smoke the entire thing, talk to the waitress and the people next to us, finish a round, use the bathroom ... and then pull it again. Of course, naturally, you're going to get faster and faster as drink goes on, but that's where teamwork comes in and your partner should tell you to stop. We usually took turns, so one of us could slow the other down if we were getting low on our beer to gambling ratio.

One night Daniel took me out to a fancy dinner at Le Cirque. That's French for The Cirque. It's in the Bellagio and it's probably the nicest restaurant I've ever been to. Only 16 tables in a small room swaddled in tapestries and rich mohogany, and a view of the fountains. Tres chic. I had the rabbit symphony. A plate with a bunch of different preparations of rabbit. I am the worst vegan ever. The fun part was that when you walked in there was a huge terrarium with all the rabbits in it and I got to pick the one I wanted. (No, not really, but isn't it weird that it's acceptable to do with lobsters but the thought of doing it with bunnies is kind of offensive?) I was completely stuffed after a seafood medley, rabbit symphony, and a mango sorbet with coconut foam extravaganza for desert. It was an incredible meal, I highly recommend. Especially if you can get someone else to pay for you.

We also saw Blue Man Group, which was incredible. The first hour or so was just them staring wide eyed at each other and audience members while people laughed uncomfortably. Could have done without that. But the last 45 minutes were so badass that it totally made up for it. I would also highly recommend Blue Man Group. I'd tell you more, but I don't want to spoil it. If you're really curious, I'll tell you about it in person.

Our flight home was canceled and our new flight was about 6 hours later (during which I won $80, so not all bad) and then that flight was delayed about an hour. So getting home was a bit arduous. Especially since we were both ready to come home. Vegas is magickal and riotously fun, but I wouldn't recommend any more than 3 nights at a time. It gets tiresome of everyone you meet doing whatever they can to get their hands on your money. But we finally arrived home with little incident and promptly laid on the couch. And that concludes story time.

I've spent the past couple of days at my parents' house playing Wii and opening presents. I got a navigation system and an Art of Shaving kit and a mango slicer. Not a bad haul. I gave Daniel the T-qualizer shirt and he gave me Planet Earth, the entire season, AS narrated by Sigourney Weaver, the true version. I have some more to open on xristmas with Daniel's family so more on that after this. Peace.

Last night I went to a work party. After eating some dinner and socializing for a few minutes, it was right up stairs to play Wii. I think the Wii will probably affect adult parties more than childrens. Bowling and tennis are just too much damn fun. I'm kind of surprised my Wii arm isn't sore. Good thing because that also happens to be my slots arm. I'm leaving for Vegas in a few hours, and I'm not going to lie to you. I'm feeling awfully slotty.

Real quick, though, I gotta tell you what's even better than the Wii. Rock Band. I think it's only out on the XBox 360, or at least it's not out on the Wii. I went to a Rock Band birthday party and we played all night. It is so much fun. There are vocals, guitar, bass guitar, and drums. And the drums are like a massive controller. And then it's just like Guitar Hero where you follow the little colored bars on the screen. Except the vocals, all you have to do with that is stay on pitch at the right time. I feel like such a loser because I've never liked video games before, save Tony Hawk, but now I find myself getting obsessed. Not obsessed enough to buy my own, that costs money, but totally into it, for sure.

Last bit of news, have you all heard that American Gladiators is coming back?! It's hosted by Hulk Hogan and Muhammad Ali's daughter. I think her name is Tatiana. You can go look at all the new gladiators if you google their website. My brother, Stephen, sent me the link and said his favorite one is Fury and I found myself agreeing. You just can't beat a pony tail coming straight up out of a grown woman's head. I was frankly a bit surprised that Wesley "Two Scoops" Barry didn't come back as a gladiator. Anyway, I decided that when I'm a gladiator my name will be Maui, an hommage to Malibu, the greatest gladiator of all time. Stephen said his name would be Laser Beam because he wouldn't be comfortable leaving it at just Laser. So your homework assignment is to leave a comment with your American Gladiator name and why.

If I don't win millions, I'll be back on Wednesday. Peace.

I always tease Daniel about date night because the entire concept is so ridiculous and reserved only for married couples in strained relationships who really don't like being around each other, but once a week go out together and get sauced up enough to copulate. So any time we go out to dinner or a movie I like to scream, "Date night!" But in all seriousness, tonight we had a date night. Dinner for two at Halfshells in Plano. We got a crab and shrimp and andoiulle sausage platter and a couple beers. Then we went to see August Rush. Srsly, go see it. Read my review to the right for more on that. It was just perfect. We should really try to do this once a week.

One more week and I'll be Vegas bound. I can't wait. Daniel really can't wait. The Vegas trip is to celebrate his graduation, which will also occur in one week. He's already finished with several of his classes and I just couldn't be more proud of him. He's kind of a big deal. It's going to be a hectic week for me and then I have like 10 days in a row away from work, and you'd better believe me, I'm going to forget alllll about it.

One last thing about August Rush and then I'm done. I really want my brother to go see it because on those late nights when we were up recording Brother Band songs, and he would man the guitar, he always played it like August does. Two hands on the neck of the guitar ... bangin' ... making beautiful music. Only his was a fraction of a second long and had to be looped in order to sound cool. But still, same effect. I'm heading off to lay on the couch some more, my home in my home. Czech you skillets on the flip side.

Cider verdict: delicious. It's like a pear flavored apple wine. It's only mildly alcoholic but that works out alright because I like to drink lots and lots of it at a time. Bottling it was such a chore. The first day that it was freezing outside, I found myself sanitizing bottles in big tubs of water and rinsing them with a hose. I was wet and my hands were so cold that it was hard to work. We hooked it up to a big canister of compressed CO2 and attempted to force carbonation. It only worked slightly. Next time I'm going to give it like 4 days of carbonation instead of 20 minutes so it'll truly sparkle. But anyway, for a first try this is fantastic. I got three big crates of big bottles full, so I haven't rationed it at all. It's probably a third gone. Mmm, just talking about it is making me want a big glass of it.

Daniel and I got our first xristmas tree together the day after Thanksgiving. It's as tall as it could be in our apartment and flocked. Flocked, I learned, is what you call the trees that have been sprayed with white shit to make it look like snow. Then we wrapped it in blue LED lights and some color changing globes and a bunch of ornaments. I think it's really pretty. So pretty that I want to take a picture of it and post it on my website, but I'm too lazy. I'll do it later along with the pictures from Halloween.

Thanksgiving was good. We spent it at Daniel's parents' house. Grilled turkey and stuffing made with sausage and oysters. Delish. Then there was some tofu, natch, and a few other sides. I've never had a grilled turkey but it was fantastic. I want to try that some time. Grilling has never been my forte and I'm always intimidated to try it out in the courtyard, but maybe that should be a new years resolution for me.

Speaking of new years resolutions -- do me a favor and don't resolve to work out in the new year. If you haven't been doing it already, starting in January is the worst thing you can possibly do. Because every lard ass in the world starts going in January clogging up all the gym equipment for a good month or two before finally giving up like we all knew they were going to do from the beginning. So save yourself, and me, the trouble. You're welcome. This post sucked.

A while ago I read an article about residential humidity control... because I work in an environment where not only are articles about residential humidity control sitting around, but I find them interesting. It really is the most overlooked and underestimated aspect of home climate control. Someday I hope to have central whole home humidity control. Until that becomes possible, I went and got myself a humidifier.

When I say humidifier you're probably thinking the same thing Daniel thought when I told him I was bringing one home. Picture the little bowl shaped plastic device with the spout out the top from which obscene amounts of steam billow out until the wall paper peels from the wall. But this is totally different. It's a cool humidifier, meaning it does not use heat to vaporize the water. It uses a honeycomb filter that sucks up water as air blows across it causing the water to evaporate into vapor. It has an adjustable set point for relative humidities between 35% and 55% so it cycles on an off as needed. And, best of all, it looks cool.

The fan has pretty much been running 24/7 since we turned it on. I was trying to figure out how it could possibly be putting at least 3 gallons of water into the air every day and yet never reach set point. But I think I figured it out. The other day the humidity outside was at 20%. That is so low. When it gets cold outside, I like nothing more than a 30 minute long scalding hot shower to warm up. That combined with humidity hovering around nothing dries my skin out so bad. Winter is typically pretty uncomfortable for me.

And now, the point of the story. I haven't had any problems with dry skin this year. And I don't wake up with severe dry mouth either. I think everyone should go out and get themselves a humidifier this winter and you can thank me in the spring.

I like to consider myself a bit of an expert in the subject of Redneks. After living in College Station, TX for 5 years, I moved into a field of work that has typically been dominated by the kind of person that would find Blue Collar Comedy amusing. Because I have been immersed in this culture, secretly observing, I thought I would enlighten those of us with high school diplomas to what I have concluded is one of the paramount tenants of Rednek life.

Nothing makes a Rednek prouder than never having done something.

That's it. That's all you need to know to blend into a crowd of NASCAR fans. That and a flannel shirt with the sleeves cut off. Consider this example. A normal person might say something like, "I spent one summer in Europe just traveling before I had to come home and find a job." Or if you haven't been that fortunate, you might say, "I've always wanted to visit Spain." A Rednek would attain that level of adoration by saying, "I ain't never left Texas." Or if he wanted to trump a friend that had just stated that, he could say, "I ain't never left Irving." The Rednek mothers nod encouragingly and the Rednek wives swoon and bleach their hair.

But even more than ain't never havin' traveled anywhere or experienced any culture other than their own, nothing is in the blood of a Rednek more than Copenhagen Long Cut and ain't never having tried a food item. I'm serious. This is the big one. Redneks LOVE not trying something new at the dinner table. A deer you killed yourself and a potato your wife mashed is what should be on the table every night. Nothing green, nothing orange, nothing red, no vegetables other than potatoes. I've argued long and hard at work that my coworkers should try sushi. Not only is it delicious, but it's so mountain man to eat a fish raw. But they won't do it. My theory is that it's because it's called sushi. If you called it Texas Style Fish Nuggets. They would at least try it. Same with Vietnamese pho. Delicious. Call it Texas Style Beef Water and the Redneks of the world would know this too.

The whole thing that brought this up was a coworker saying he ain't never had pumpkin pie. I thought that was as unAmerican as not supporting the war. But he claimed that it's not normal to make a pie out of a gourd and that pecan pie is the only acceptable kind. Even though making a pie out of a nut is way more bizarre. So I'm looking for pumpkin pie recipes online to make one to take to work to show him that something he ain't never tried might actually be a favorite food if he would just try it. But he'll probably take one bite to shut me up, make a face, and claims he hates it before he spits it into a napkin. Such is the Rednek way.

Anyway, I hope this clued you in a little bit into the backwards lives of our 10 gallon friends and neighbors. If you have any questions about how or why Redneks do something, leave me a comment and I'm sure I can answer them all for you. Class dismissed.

Yesterday I became a home brewer. I decided to start with hard cider which I figured would be marginally easier than beer. So there are 6 gallons of apple juice rotting in a bucket filled with yeast in the guest bathroom bathtub. In three weeks, it should be delightfully alcoholic and I'll probably start winning competitions and whatnot at that point. So if any of you are in town or around at Thanksgiving, come on by. I haven't come up with a name or a label yet but you better believe I'll be spending some time getting that sorted out.

I'm not sure if I even really like hard cider since every hard cider I've ever had has actually been an apple flavored malted beverage. And I'm definitely weary that I like it 6 gallons worth. But if I drink even one glass from the bucket and it has even 1% alcohol in it, then I will consider this a sweeping success. Who knows though? Maybe I really do like cider and I'll drink 6 gallons at 6% alcohol and die. Keep your fingers crossed.

Do any of you have a Wii? My parents bought one unexpectedly and I have go to say it is wildly entertaining. I like bowling and tennis. My whole family was in town a couple of weeks ago and we spent so much time playing these stupid games that the children got upset and the entire right side of my body was sore for like 3 days. What a brilliant invention to try and get fat little kids to quit being so fat and disgusting. I want one for xmas, so if you could just buy me one and leave it at my doorstep anonymously, I would appreciate it. That way, I don't have to feel indebted to you for your generosity and I can play my Wii without a burden on my conscience.

Back on October 1st, I swore that I was going to live on $100 dollars a week, no questions asked, no holds barred. A month later, I find my system unravelling. "Emergencies" are getting put on the credit card ... hard cider is an emergency ... and my checking account cushion is dwindling. So I had to supplement with some money from savings. That totally defeats the purpose, but if I can just make it one more month, then I'll be loaded and happy and ready to go to Las Vegas and gamble it all away. As it is, I've saved a ridiculous amount in the first month anyway, so I still count this as a victory. I'm pretty easy on myself.

I have pictures from Halloween but I'm still working on it before I post it here. So sit tight and wait for those, I promise to have them out by 2008. Peace.

There's a new promotional deal from the good people at M&M's. You might have seen the commercials for it. It's kind of cool. You can log onto their website (mms.com) and customize your M&M's. You get to choose two colors and two phrases. So you could get like lavender and yellow M&M's that say, "Happy Easter," and, "Praise Jesus!" But therein lies the problem. That's like all they will let you do.

They have a few rules you must abide by in order to get your customized candy. First, no single letters. They take pride in their brand or some shit like that so the only single letters they will print on their candy is their trademarked "M." Mmmk, no big deal. Secondly, no company names or organization names. Whatever. This is where it gets stupid. No references to drugs. They had an example of a candy they would not print and it said, "Mary's Pills," which I thought was riotous. I can just see Mary's face when you give them to her. She'd kind of try to feign like she found it amusing but really she would just be kinda like what the hell? Yknow? Also you work with Mary and she's kind of uptight. So okay that eliminated like a third of my ideas. And finally, no obscenities. Game over. I'm not buying customized M&M's.

The last thing wrong with this idea is that you only get two lines and each line is 8 characters each. So you really can't express anything in inuendos or whatever to get around their Nazi rules about what they will and won't print. So here's what I'm thinking. I will start my own business where I do nothing but buy plain M&M's and then print stuff on them for you. And I'll have a microprinter so you can get M&M's with your entire manifesto on them. All I'm saying is that the M&M's pictured here would be fun to nonchalantly sneak into a child's birthday party and if the only thing standing between me and that goal is some kind of edible microprinter I'm not entirely sure exists, but if I does you can be certain it would be wildly prohibitively expensive... well then, I'm not going to let that stop me.

Well. So. Anyway. That may or may not have been worth an entire blog.

On Tuesday night, Daniel, Lindsey, Lauren, Hunter and I all went to see Hanson at the House of Blues. Lindsey and Lauren were the kind of mall rat uberfans that made MMMBop a hit. I would claim that status except they were 9 when the song came out and I was in high school. Nonetheless, this was, in fact, my second Hanson concert because I went to see them once with Ashlee in high school. The show was incredible, of course. All of them are very accomplished musicians. They each took a turn on guitar, did some acoustic, and some acapella. Definitely worth seeing.

They also encouraged everyone to buy a pair of Tom's shoes. I looked them up on the internet and it seemed like a good enough cause that I would mention it here. If you go to tomsshoes.com you can read up on it for yourself, but the short story is that every pair of shoes you buy, they donate a pair to a kid in Africa. Now normally I don't fuck with Africa cause people there are starvin' and that ain't baller, but these shoes are also kind of cool. I think I'm going to order the pair of gray and black striped ones. Lindsey said that if you order a pair before Hanson's Walk Tour is over, you can just put "hanson" in the shipping info and it's free, or something like that. And the tour should be one for a while longer.

It's been pushed back a little bit because apparently Isaac Hanson had some kind of heart trouble immediately following the show and they rushed him to Baylor Medical for emergency surgery. I guess he's okay but it meant that they had to stay here a few extra days and cancel their Tulsa show. Lindsey wanted to go outside the hospital with posterboard and glow sticks and scream (and probably did, we haven't heard from her in a while) but ultimately we decided that might be in poor taste.

So, okay, buy some shoes, they're cool and it's nice and remember: Ahfon oopinda bee ting chesch ahfon oopinda ayesconsee.

The Dow closed today at a record high. I know that because I am a stock holder. I earned $3 today. And I didn't do anything. I am only in for $200 at this point, but already I'm up to $206 total. I love this. I want to put more money into the stock market but I have priorities first. My year long struggle to save up six months worth of expenses was set back a tad by the Vegas trip in December I just paid for. But it's still within reach. I have a new plan to spend only $100 a week (excluding recurring bills) for the next two months. If I can do that, then I can truly reap the benefit of the extra paycheck in November and I could potentially stash like 5 grand. That's only if I stay absolutely disciplined, which has never happened before. But there's a first time for everything.

Daniel's Windows Vista laptop has chess as one of the games on it. I put it at the easiest level 1 beginner setting and it consistently has whooped my ass. Like not even close. I am dedicated though. I keep playing it over and over again and I will continue to do so until I can beat the beginner level. I'm starting to get a little bit better. Like I can tell how or why they destroyed me as opposed to when I first started and was basically playing checkers against a computer playing chess. I think a few months of practice and I could really get good. Of course if I had any idea what was going on, or a friend who knew (wink, wink) I could accelerate that learning curve a little bit. Let me know if you're a grand dragon, or whatever they call it when you're really good at chess.

I was really hoping for more comments on my finished bar, but finally decided I couldn't milk it any longer. It's been pretty fun having it. The beer fridge is installed, fit perfectly, and keeps my brewskis frigid. Of course now I think it's a hassle to get up and walk 3 steps to get another beer so I might have to rig up some sort of couch delivery system next. I'll keep you posted on that.

After a few trips to Lowe's and a late night of carpentry and electry, we finally finished the bar. All we really need to do is touch up the areas where the hinges of the closet doors were with a little white paint. I also need to buy a beer fridge, obviously. Then we are open for business. Praise me.

This is our new entry way. I painted it while Daniel was in New York.

Do you like it?

What's up with these new Total Gym commercials? I was thinking about buying one until this mustachioed gentleman thought he could fool everybody. But I will tell you what is. No fucking way am I buying a Total Gym from Chuck Norris' evil twin brother. Period.

I am so bad at updating these days. If I have any Sidesho-Viewers left, I want to apologize to all of you for my absence. It's not that I don't want to update, it's just that 9 times out of 10, I'm fresh out of ideas. I hate it when I get too many narrative blogs in a row. It seems rather self indulgent to think you care what I'm doing without having something funny to say. Speaking of self indulging...

We have a new hangout here in Addison! Circle. It's called Astoria and it is our new favorite place. The owners could not be nicer. We had a long term goal of getting to know them on a first name basis so we would feel at home there. They greatly accelerated our schedule into the first night we were there. They couldn't be nicer. Tonight it started raining on us, so they brought us inside, set up a smoking section, and brought us lots of fresh menu ideas for us to try and give feedback on. We really want them to be hugely successful, so the next time you come to visit, let's go have a coffee or a drink or something to eat.

They also have flat screen TVs around with DVD players. So they encouraged us to bring in a movie, have some friends, they'll set up a viewing area for us, serve us drinks and watch the movie. Sounds like too much fun. We want to try that asap. We ran into our favorite Addison! celebrities tonight and they told the owners that I was an amazing guitar player. In reality, they were just amazingly drunk the night I played for them. Drunk ... and huge John Denver fans. So you know I blew their socks off. The owners want to try to get an open mic type thing going on there so they asked if I would ever be interested in starting things off. One of my biggest goals in life, back when I was young and stupid and had goals, was to play an open mic night before my 18th birthday. I missed that mark by a good 8 years, but I could make amends with my younger self by doing it at Astoria. I only know a handful of songs, but it would be fun to go play them in a corner. Someone might listen, but probably not, and that would rock. I really hope I go through with it.

I have made good progress on the bar. It is now grouted and sealed and looks amazing. All that's left to do is put some drawer fronts and cabinet doors, stain them, and then paint the back wall. Oh, and line the drawers with foam and velvet. And then we are open for business. Realistically, we're probably looking at a cold weather unveiling, but you know for a fact that I'll be keeping you updated.

A few new projects on the horizon. The first is a dress for Lindsey that I've been promising ever since I finished Katie's dress back in April. Daniel was just in New York for 5 days and found time to steal over to Mood, our favorite Project Runway endorsed fabric store. He got me a beautiful black and white silk print (I can't sew silk) and some black silk to go with the sketches I came up with. If I can pull this off, it just might be an attractive garment.

I was also in Barneys last weekend and found a fur lined hoodie. It was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I can't remember the last time I was this excited about an article of clothing. But, needless to say, I was not $675 excited. So Daniel also picked up some faux chinchilla fur from Mood and I'm going to line my own hoodie. I also intend to run headphones up into the hood that will hook into an iPod that will rest in a custom iPod pocket. And I want all of the pockets to have magnets in them so they will stay shut. It's going to be rad. I want to start that first, but Lindsey wants her dress. Hopefully they'll be enough time to do them simultaneously. I need this hoodie yesterday... but I suppose I can wait until it isn't 100.

Much love to everyone getting hit by tropical storms and hurricanes right now. Hope your houses aren't flooding, or if they are, that you have good insurance. Cha ching. Later sluts.

If you think the only thing I ever really talk about on my webpage these days is my bar, you are only half right. The only thing I ever talk about all the time now is the bar. I can't wait until it's done so I can shut the hell up about it. I made some good progress this weekend. I got the tile and some mortar and laid the tile and embedded the cutting board and hammered some copper and raised the microwave so the door would open. Later this week I have to grout everything. Anyway, here's a picture.

It's really starting to take shape. You can see where I put copper around the trash hole. I just wanted to add another natural element to the overall design. It was originally going to be a trash chute but since I couldn't really do that, I thought this was a nice compromise. And the cutting board couldn't look nicer against the tile. Turns out they don't make rectangular tile like I wanted so these 1x1 mosaics work just fine.

Sooo yeah. That's all I got. Late.

I have been working feverishly on my bar this week to make up for my weekend warrior frustrations. Tonight I took the drawers (that I fucking built) and attached them to the cabinetry with these badass $15 rails. That may not sound like a lot of money to you, but in the land of drawer slides, that is just about as good as it gets. The only thing nicer is those ones you slam but they automatically slow themselves down and shut quietly. Too bad they didn't sell them at Home Depot.

Speaking of Home Depot: Why is it that every time I'm in that fucking store I am like the only person in the store. I mean the ONLY person in the store. When I bought the plywood, I was looking for someone to tell me what kind of plywood to buy and to help me cut it in half. And I walked through every aisle of lumber. And then proceeded through every aisle in the store. When I'd made it all the way to flooring without seeing an orange apron, I went straight for the customer service desk. No one there! I'm like 97% sure they were open. That has been the consistent pattern with that store. Fuck them. I hate them. If you need something from Home Depot, just go to Lowe's, cause they'll say hi, ask you if you need help, help you find what you need, make suggestions, and load it in your car for you. Way better.

Where was I? Oh yeah... DRAWERS!

Can you believe it? These drawers are major. (If you haven't been watching Victoria Beckham's new reality show, you are truly missing out. I fucking love her. I am going to attempt to call everything in my life "major" from now on.) The drawers are 18"x21"x6". They are so deep and big that we've decided we're going to inlay some foam covered in velvet and shape it to hold the various items we had planned for the drawer space. A knife. A bottle opener. Um... maybe like a backup knife? Too much storage for sure. One could most definitely hold 3 emergency liquor bottles.

I never thought it would be shaping up this well this fast. If you look closely there are many, many construction mistakes to be seen. One reason I greyed out the background was to hide some rough edges. But that will all be invisible with the finishing tile work and trim. I am so excited. I will let you all know when the bar warming party is. Until then, keep cheering me on!

P.S. Today is my brother, Stephen's birthday. Happy Birthday, brother! This picture is your gift.

Fourth of July was good. Had a few people over, drank some beers. Birthday was good. Had a few people over, drank some beers. My brother, Stephen, even dropped in for a little bit, which was a special surprise ... kind of ... I mean, it was really special, but only kind of a surprise. Taking a week off was a really good idea. I wish I could do it again, but alas, I need mo money.

I'm taking this opportunity to update because I wore out 3 of the DeWalt batteries on my handheld drill. I've been a busy little boy this evening. Every time I make progress on the bar, I go into work and discuss it with my coworker/coach. He's the one that lent me all the power tools. He was disappointed that I'd gone through the whole weekend without making any progress. His only rule is that I make progress every week. So I couldn't let him down. I went and spent another 60 bucks at Home Depot and brought home some 1x6s, some 2x4s, and some drawer mounts. I am now the proud owner of 1.95 finished drawers. They are not half bad, if I do say so myself. A little wonky, but that's to be expected when you're doing construction with all hand tools. I got one all the way done but as I was screwing the bottom onto the second drawer my third battery went dead. I just have to chill out for about an hour and two of them will be full speed again. The drawers are damn huge. You know how I am -- larger than life and out of control. So these are 18" wide, 21" long, and 6" deep. We don't intend on using the drawers for anything, I only made them to fill some of the gap between the fridge and the bar. But if we ever do use them, we could store like quilts and stuff in them. Boom!

I guess I'll go eat some dinner while I'm waiting for a recharge. I hope Daniel is impressed with my progress ... and doesn't mind vacuuming up large amounts of sawdust. Later skaters.

Well then. As most of you already know, I've been back from Mexico for quite some time now. Just haven't found the motivation to update. You know how it is. Mexico was a blast. Not quite the unmitigated boozefest you might have imagined since we had 5 children under the age of 3 in tow. But it was very relaxing to spend the day by the pool or by the beach indulging in way too much delicious all-included food and the occasional drink. I would highly recommend and all inclusive Mexico package. The only excursion I took outside of the resort aside from a little light shopping was snorkeling out on some reefs about an hour away near Cozumel. It was pretty cool in the shallow water. I was about 4 feet away from a shark that was as tall as me. I don't think he could have killed me but he probably could have eaten my leg before I was able to gouge out his eyes, so that was exhilarating. By the end of the trip though I was feeling quite sea sick and had "maintain" for about 30 minutes until we hit the shore. But I was successful, so that was good. My nieces are all adorable and a trip and I think everyone had as much fun as me ... even if they didn't get the opportunity to take as many naps as I did.

Since I've been back I haven't done much in the way of excitement. But that's all about to change. My birthday weekened extravaganza begins tomorrow after work. Then it's time for Kaboomtown fireworks and I have the rest of the week off to just lounge around and work on my bar. Believe it or not, progress has been made. I got the supports up on the wall and the plywood base cut out and put on the supports. A lot of planning has been done at work to figure out what comes next. Near as I can figure it, I'm going to put the middle "legs" that will encase the trash can in next followed by the wooden lighting encasement for the back. Then it's time to tile and cut trash holes and cutting board holes. Then just staining and trimming everything out to hide the many, many, many mistakes I have made and likely will make before I'm done. If I work on it throughout my time off, there is a good chance that this bitch could be done before the end of summer. And then it's time to have a party to show off the bar.

My birthday party on Friday was canceled because Metro Retro won't be open. After I found out they would be closed, I just kind of said fuck it. I'm going to dinner with my parents and then I'm just gonna hang out at home. If anybody wants to come over and drink beer with me and shower me with gifts, you are all invited to do just that. I'll let you know if plans change, but I'm 99.34% sure they won't. So get shopping because you only have 4 more days left to make your purchases. Thaaaaaanks.

I started work on the bar this weekend. I think I'm going to extend my original construction schedule from two years to three. I went and bought a couple 8' sections of 2x2 pieces of wood (although I was already confused since the actual dimensions seemed like 1x1 to me). I managed to cut it to length using this big, mean looking power saw that my coworker lent to me. And I managed to get it up against the wall, level it out, and drill a pilot hole through it. I even got a screw into the wall to hold it up. I was feeling pretty good about myself. Until I started drilling a second hole and managed to rip the whole thing down. Apparently the screws I got were only long enough to go through the wood and about halfway through the drywall. So I guess I need longer screws.

I also got this stupid stud finder that beeps in different places and is indicating to me that the studs are about a half inch thick and spaced randomly anywhere from 6" to 12" apart. My little instruction booklet suggests that studs are always 1.5" thick and spaced 16" or 24". So I'm confused and worried that I'm going to drill through an electrical wire or a pipe or something. So I put everything back in the closet and shut the doors. I'll worry about it some other time. But seriously, does anybody know anything about this that could help me?

I would resume work next weekend, but I'll be in beautiful Playa del Carmen, Mex-i-co. My whole family is taking a five day all inclusive trip together. It should be really fun taking all the nieces and nephews to the beach. We only have two confirmed cases of serious distaste for sand ... and one that allegedly really likes the taste of sand. So it should keep us all moderately sober for some of the time. Too bad my base tan is hovering somewhere around eggshell right now, so I'm going to be employing some serious SPF the whole time.

The rest of this weekend was punctuated by drinking and downloading the entire Ace of Base album and dancing and laughing at Daniel for knowing every single word to every single song. I have this theory that everyone on earth likes Ace of Base. There are only varying degrees of how much you admit it. But you know and I know that when you're alone in your car and "The Sign" comes on, you be rockin and singing along. Wouldn't it just feel better to admit it?

I just went and looked at the gym here in Addison! Circle. It looks pretty nice and has the free weights I've been missing. I think I'm going to join but I have to see what Daniel thinks about it first. I might sign up anyway and just go there on days when he is in class late. My company will pay for me anyway. They invited me to come back and work out today and I should really take them up on it, but methinks I am too lazy. We shall see.

Last order of business, I sent out a MySpace invitation to my birthday party on Friday, July 6th. If you didn't get it or you aren't on MySpace, shoot me an email (sideshovid@sideshovid.com) and I'll give you the wheres and whens you so desperately desire.

This past weekend, Daniel and I set about painting the master bedroom. We had originally thought that maybe we should just redo the bedroom I had in my old apartment since that was so badass. Toot! Toot! But what a horrendous waste of a opportunity that would be! Am I right? Ultimately, we decided to go with a variation on the theme of vertical stripes.

I'm really obsessed with Kenneth Brown. He's an interior designer who stars on reDesign. Every room he does turns out absolutely badass. He always puts this "spa-like feel" in every room and I wanted a piece of that. So I went a little bit out there and chose a nice soothing green for the walls. For the stripes, we masked off some that were much wider than my old ones. Then we painted them a light shade of yellow, let it dry, and painted this muddy matte brown on top. Before the brown dried, I scraped it off with a wire bristled brush to achieve a really cool fox finish. It's got great texture and almost ended up looking kind of safari. So we're gonna get some bamboo for the corner and maybe a zebra skin rug or something. We're still working out the details. Anywho, in the meantime, I wanted you all to see it. I hope this picture comes up okay on your screens cause it didn't look great on my camera, but it should give you a good idea.

Since we have three bedrooms in our apartment now, we turned the middle one into a TV lounge, hangout room. It has just about everything you could ever want in a TV room: a TV with all the accoutrement, surround sound, super comfy sofa, mood lighting. Everybody loves hanging out in there. Really, the only thing that sucks about it is when you're drinking and you have to keep getting up and going to the kitchen to throw out an empty beer can and grab a new one. It is seriously far.

Solution! The day we moved in I vowed that I would convert the TV room closet into a swank bar complete with my wine fridge, a beer fridge, trash can, cutting board, glassware. You name it, this shit is going to be nice. The more I plan, the more complicated my dream becomes. Now bear in mind that I have zero experience and absolutely no tools. But I have a dream, damnit, and sometimes that's all you need.

But seriously, if anybody has any experience or tools, I could really use your help.

The past couple of days at work I've spent drawing this conceptual drawing. I first measured the closet and then learned how to use AutoCAD to do a really nice isometric drawing as a first draft for getting my thoughts onto paper. Today I took that finished AutoCAD drawing into Photoshop and googled the different materials to overlay into this finished product. I'm obviously pretty proud of myself. Toot! Toot!

The whole thing is roughly 8' by 2' and will be covered in slate tiles. The back has four holes in the wood trim for accent lighting. There will be glass shelves above it with all my glassware, so this should create a cool lighting effect. The cutting board is actually recessed into the two-ply-wood shelf. After it's tiled, it will be flush with the rest of the surfaces. The copper flashing you see is actually just a hole that leads down to a trashcan that will be concealed by the large cabinet. Drawers flank on either side for spoons and knives and whatnot. Where you see no cabinetry is where the closet walls will actually be hiding those areas. And below each drawer will be a wine fridge or a beer fridge.

I really think I've thought of it all here, but if you have any suggestions on how to improve my little design let me know. I estimated the construction time at 2 years but Daniel thinks we can accomplish it in a few weekends. I guess all we can do is try ... and kiss our deposit goodbye. Let me know what you think!

There's a new fashion craze sweeping the nation. Now channel the spirits of Slater, Lisa and Jessie and imagine me saying this in the correct whispered repetitious Buddy Bands manner:

MegaBlinds. MegaBlinds. MegaBlinds.

It has always bothered me that there isn't an opaque eyewear available on the market. Every time that I lay out, regardless of how dark or how big my sunglasses are, as soon as I lay on my back, the sun is blinding me right through my eyelids. So I end up with my hands in front of my face all day. Well not anymore. Miniblinds are for fat old housewives. MegaBlinds are only for the most outrageous socialites and celebutants. They're perfectly timeless yet totally today.

Using a closely guarded family recipe which combines fashion and function, MegaBlinds will block the sun, or anything else you want to avoid, while making you look like a million bucks. The secret comes from the exclusive MegaBlinds rhinestone quarry. Each jewel is certfied flawless and hand crafted to guarantee the maximum amount of sparkle.

And they're not just for the pool anymore. Going to the same club as your ex tonight and want to make sure you don't even acknowledge their existence? Slap on a pair of MegaBlinds and drink well, knowing your head won't turn when they walk by. Hungover and can't get back to sleep because the sun is pouring into your bedroom? Turn that hangover upsidedown with MegaBlinds.

I really think this could catch on. If you could all do me a favor and spread the word. Seeing is believing, and you'll never see again. MegaBlinds retail for a low, low introductory rate of $350, so if you would like a pair, be sure to get your order in early. Each pair of MegaBlinds is hand crafted and completely customized, and the orders are already pouring in. When things are expensive, it makes people want them. Thanks in advance for telling all your friends!

Warning: Mega-Blinds not intended for use while driving. Or walking.

This week I went to Seattle for the umpteenth time. Only this time was different. It was just a day trip. A 4 hour flight there and back is a little bit long for a day trip so I flew up Sunday afternoon and back Tuesday morning. It was such a beating. I worked 13 hours on Monday punctuated by a delightful variety of alcoholic beverages. If you ever find yourself in Seattle, I suggest the Pike Place Brewery (not exactly a well kept local secret) and Broadway Grill. Mmmm. Have the Broadway put some raspberry puree in your mojito. You won't be sorry.

I was nervous going up there because I've engaged in a lot of bravado lately about how I'm the best programmer in the world and the guy who originally programmed everything is incompetent and everyone who has tried to fix it in the past has been so dispassionate that it's no surprise nothing is working. So I told them I needed to start from a clean slate and reprogram the entire thing from scratch. Not exactly what you want to hear in an already-behind-schedule project. But surprisingly they agreed. So the pressure was on. As late as Wednesday the week before I was freaking out because I had nothing to show for my efforts but a handful of failed attempts. But I showed up with a completed program and at 5am Monday morning we downloaded and started testing it. No big deal, just billions of dollars on the line.

Do I even have to tell you that it worked perfectly? This is not going to be good for my ego. But, it will be good for my resume.

Have you seen my apartment yet? It you haven't you need to swing by. We'd love to have you. I'm taking today off on comp time for traveling Sunday so that spells out a 4 day weekend for yours truly. Party every night. And on that note, I think I'm gonna start drinking... a soy latte. Laaaaaaaate.

We did it. We moved. It only took about 12 grueling hours to finish. I can only imagine how long it would have taken were it not for the help of my father and our dear friend, DJ iMernex. I have been working long hours at work and I'm getting ready to go back to Seattle on Sunday (for one day) so I've been very little help in putting anything away. Plus, you all know me. I'd keep shit in boxes indefinitely if it were up to me. But not Daniel. Boy howdy, everything is done. It looks amazing. This place is so fucking huge it's ridonkulous.

I'll be gone Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, and then after that I should be home for a while. I say this because everyone I like needs to drop by as soon as you can to see the pad. I can't wait for Kaboom Town this year. I think we're gonna do a Kaboom Town/My Birthday/Housewarming Party thing. Whatever will we call it? Kaboothdarming? I am pretty sure that's a city in Iraq. Anyway, come up with some ideas and I'll pick the second best one.

The only downside to living here (and I'm not sure it's even a downside) is that there's ample parking on the streets over here. Whereas before I was usually forced to park in the garage, here I can always find a spot right by my door. Which means that birds poop all over my car every day. And it's an unbearable amount. So tonight I begin Operation Shine Lasers Under Trees. Every night around dusk, I am going to walk underneath every tree on the street and put a laser in the eye of every bird settling down for the night. After a few nights, they should be discouraged from ever staying there again. And I'll just keep on until my car is always clean. If it doesn't work, I'll just get a BB gun.

And that concludes my post. Having Daniel's computer here all set up is really nice and will hopefully equate to more frequent blogs. So don't delete me from your favorites list just yet. There's plenty more where this came from.

The day is almost upon us. Tuesday morning Daniel and I begin the big move into our new apartment down the street. I have been painting non stop for about 2 weeks now. My living room and kitchen are a depressing clinical white. Just like the day I moved in. I guess it's pretty impressive that I erased my presence here in just a couple of weeks considering it took me like 6 months to paint it originally. It's kind of sad, but our new place is going to be so much better.

I just wanted to put out and APB and let you know that if you have Tuesday off or can lend a helping hand in any way when you get out of work that it would be greatly appreciated. And I assure you, you will be handsomly rewarded. The more people we have, the faster we get done, the sooner I buy everyone dinner and drinks and give out the hand jobs. I really haven't boxed anything up, so I think it's going to take about 2453 trips back and forth to finish for me. Not to mention that last minute clean up and when you think you're done and then realize you forgot the washing machine. Shit like that.

Also, this weekend is Taste Addison and Daughtry and Lifehouse and Blues Traveler are going to be there. I am attending no matter what but if I was done with painting, I would feel like 100 times better. So if you're free Thursday or Friday night and want me to pay you somehow to help me paint my bedroom (don't forget my ceiling is chocolate brown and needs to be white) that would be cool too.

As soon as we move I'll have fully functioning internet and a place to put my computer so it can stay on all the time. (The fan coming on at night bothers Daniel.) So I'll most likely be blogging a lot more regularly and you can all get back to enjoying the hilarity that is my life. But until then, don't forget to come over on Tuesday morning and bring some beer. Laaaaaaate!

Daniel's Teeny Tini 23rd Birthday Party was a whole lot of fun. We spent the whole day preparing for it. Luckily, I took that Friday off from work. First we had to buy all of the liquor that was on my shopping list. Then we got Airon to come over and mix up four pitchers of what were essentially shots. He was clever enough to make them pink, orange, green, and blue. And we had rows and rows of teeny tini glasses that Airon also acquired for us and I filled them up in rows. I wish I had Daniel's camera to show you all. It was vury pretty. And they were all extremely tastey. T to the A to the STEY girl you tastey. Everybody slurped them down. I had enough in each pitcher to fill up all the glasses twice, so I don't think anybody was left wanting.

There was a great mix of people coming and going all night long. I was exhausted when it was over and I know it was really special for Daniel for everyone to come. He got some really great gifts. Like the autographed pictures of Kylie Minogue that Adam! ordered him. Or the portrait of Kylie Minogue that JennyCole hand crafted out of colored pencils, beads, and flowers. Truly amazing. And Kelly got him a book about cars and a year long prescription to Car and Driver. Ryan Short got him this really great set of bath spa stuff. I can't remember what else he got, but it was all good stuff.

And Katie wore my dress! And looked fantastic. I will definitely grab a picture of that and show it to you all. Biggest accomplishment of my life thus far. Every time I saw her I would yell, "WHO ARE YOU WEARING? WHO ARE YOU WEARING?" over and over again. Good times.

But I guess the most exciting news is that I'M MOOOVING! Daniel and I signed a lease on Friday for a first floor, corner, 3-bedroom apartment in Addison! Circle. Okay, so I'm just moving down the street, but it's still fucking exciting. We are going to have so much room. Guest bedroom, guest bath, family room, living room, dining room, big kitchen, huge master bedroom with a door that opens to the outside. We are moving on May 15th so anybody that would like to help us cart shit over there, it would be most appreciated. Or if anybody has any boxes I can borrow before then, I would also appreciate that.

I think sometime around my birthday (July 6) we are going to have a birthday/house warming/Kaboom Town party. I'll be sure to let you all know when that is. And I hope you all have a great week and keep out of the rain. Laaaaaaaate.

I really wanted to lay out today like I did last weekend. My goal is to lay out every weekend before Mexico so I won't reflect all of the sunlight away from the beach. But I was especially excited to use my new cooler that I got from Target. It's super cute and holds 24 beers. Unfortunately, I can't realistically go lay out ... because it's fucking snowing. Like not a little bit, but really actually snowing. It's April for xrist's sake. I think this cycle of the earth warming and cooling is on like a 4 year cycle.

Anywho, so I find myself layin around with nothing to do, which is why I'm here talking to you losers. Daniel and I went to look at an apartment today but since it went on the market yesterday and is still occupied, it can only be viewed during specific times on weekdays. So Daniel's going to look at it on Monday. It's got a fireplace, a balcony, a pool view, a large mezzanine, a spiral staircase, two bedrooms, two baths, and a view of the circle out the other side. Online it looks perfect and the girl at the leasing office said it was a really cool apartment and would probably go fast. Which means our original plan of moving in together in December, and our revised plan of moving in together in June, has just been moved forward to as soon as we can get into this new apartment.

It makes a lot of sense. For one it's the next logical step in our relationship. That's the main reason. But also because it's way more square footage for less money. And while living across the street from each other has been wonderful, realistically, we practically live together already.

If things go well we might move in at the end of May. Which would be crazy but fun. I just hope we have some sort of overlap in our leases so we can just get a couple dollys and cart our furniture through the park to the circle. If anybody has a truck maybe that would make more sense. I'll be sure to keep you all post-ed on if we get it or not. Later, bulges.

The good news is, Katie came over to try on her dress and it fit her like a guhlove. It looked like I had measured her or had some semblance of an idea what I was doing -- neither of which are true. I need to finish putting in the zipper and then decide what to do with the length/hem and it's party ready. She said she actually likes it and I just decide to believe her because it makes me feel all tingly in my bathing suit area.

And there's no bad news. Sorry. Today I got home from work and was perusing my Addison! Circle newsletter and it had an advertisement for the Dream Cafe. It said it had lots of vegetarian and vegan menu options, so I wanted to try it. Oh, also, just fyi, I'm totally not a vegan anymore. I am still trying, but just failing more and more often. I eat cheese like every day, fish once or twice a week, and I've had a teeny bit of chicken twice. So I totally fell off the boat and can no longer in good conscience call myself a vegan, but I'm still trying. Gotta get in shape before the family Mexico trip because I'll have many people to impress.

Where was I?

Oh yeah, Dream Cafe. Since it was a cardio day, I decided in lieu of our usual Circle bike ride, we should venture across the Tollway to try this place. It was kind of far away and we had to cross a major highway during rush hour, but other than that it was a pleasant ride. I enjoyed my black bean nachos (with cheese) and Daniel had some ahi tuna. And as we were commenting on how delicious the food was, the perfectly clear and sunny 85 degree skies turned black and a torrential downpour spilled forth from the heavens. Unphased, we asked for a plastic bag, but our belongings inside of it and headed home through the rain. It let up a little bit as we were riding and it was downright pleasant. Soaking, yes, but pleasant. So much so that as soon as we made it home, I coaxed Daniel into an extra lap around the circle. We were, like, the only people out. We figured anyone that saw us would just assume we were severely dedicated to our bike rides. I guess some percentage of that statement is true.

0%. What? Zero is a percentage.

And now here I am freshly showered, warmed up, dried off, and a little big miffed we missed Sanjina on American Idol. g*d, I hope he wins the whole thing. He's such a fucking train wreck. I think this weekend my friend Adam! may come lay out by the pool again like we did last weekend with many, many pitchers of freshly made pina coladas. Some of you should join. We had a blizzast. Have a good week, have-nots. Czech you on the flip siiiiiide.

I am on the verge of accomplishing something I have never accomplished before. I am about to finish a garment. Like, I started it, worked on it, and now it is almost done. It's a weird feeling.

When I would watch Project Runway, I was always confused as to how men got involved in women' fashion. I would imagine that people would just gravitate toward designing clothes for themselves and then would branch off from there. But this garment I'm about to finish is a dress for my friend Katie. And now I understand why everyone does women's clothes. They are so much easier than men's. And so much more fun.

I wouldn't tell Katie anything about the dress. All I would tell her is that anything I made, she had to wear. And furthermore, she has to wear it at Daniel's upcoming birthday party. So now I really have to finish it. But since I don't really mind if she finds out, and because I don't think she reads my webpage with any regularity, I thought I'd go ahead and post a sketch of the dress. I totally free handed this from scratch. Not. But I did choose the colors to approximate the fabric that I chose. Part of me hopes it fits her beautifully, but I have to admit there's another part of me that hopes we have to pin it up and let it out and her boob is falling out all night. That would just be funnier. I'm sure we'll snag at least one picture of her at the party and then we can finally compare one of my sketches to the finished product. And that will make for good times.

Speaking of the party, if you aren't on Myspace and didn't get the invitation, but somehow feel you are deserving of attending, just let me know. We should have plenty of room for more friends. I gotta go attach the dress and the bodice now and then I'll be done. Ha, "bodice," listen to me talking like an old pro. Laaaaaaaate.

I tried to post yesterday, but I guess Earthlink was having a problem with their servers. Everything on the internet worked except for my webpage. I blogged in Notepad so that I wouldn't lose the thought, but I didn't save it because I was just going to cut and paste it later when everything was working. Last night I was pretty sick so I stayed home and went to bed and then Daniel came home around 3. He hates the sound of the fan in my laptop so he turned my computer off before he got in bed. Long story short (which is pointless to say after you've already told the long story), I lost what I was going to say.

I do know that 95% of the reason I was blogging was to show you my St. Patrick's Day cake. I can't wait to win the lottery and go to culinary school and do shit like this all day long. It started off as a practice cake for Daniel's birthday cake next month, but as soon as I finished, realized the icing was green, and remembered it was St. Patty's Day, I dressed it up with the yellow. Thank g*d I have cake decorating materials on hand at all times. The best part is, the reason the icing is green IS BECAUSE IT'S MADE FROM AVOCADOS. Have you ever heard of anything so crazy? If you watch Alton Brown you have. I have to say, it is curiously delicious. It's light and fresh and citrusy with the lemon juice and orange extract I added. I think it will be a big hit. If you want to try it, you'd better hurry over before Daniel devours the whole thing. He's quite the cake-eater.

I hope everybody had a lovely St. Patrick's Day filled with green beer and devoid of green hangovers. Laaaaaaaaate.

You know how sometimes I give there really great suggestions for how to improve your life? And usually they involve something you should be buying if you aren't already? Well, I've got another one for you.

It has recently come to my attention that many of you have never eaten a mango. And I'm here to tell you that a fresh mango is the most delicious thing you can possibly put in your mouth. It is by far my favorite fruit. I'm in Houston right now at my brother Stephen's house and I bought a couple mangos for us to enjoy. g*d diddly damn they are good. Anyway, here's a picture in case you aren't familiar with what a mango even looks like. Go buy one and cut it up and eat it. Just watch out for the massive lima bean that you will find inside. I don't think you can eat those.

So I came to Houston on Wednesday for work and then decided to stay and visit my brother and his family. It's been really fun. I worked from his house Thursday and Friday. If you consider bike rides to the park work. Hanging out with Kaylyn and Will has been pretty fun. Plus, it makes you really thankful for all the things you don't have in your life. Namely children. I kind of feel about children like I do about dogs. I like them, but I like them better when they belong to someone else and you can just come over occasionally and play with them, but then get rid of them when they poop.

I'm going home tomorrow. This was a nice little visit. I needed a change, my job has fallen into a bit of a rut again. I don't see anything exciting coming on the horizon, so I'm just going to have to rededicate myself to my new attitude towards work. I think if I got back into yoga, I would feel better all around, so I'm going to look into that when i get home.

Whelp, everyone else in this house is asleep, so I guess I'm going to do the same until the early morning shit fits begin. Ciao.

Since Febrehab is a world-wide phenomenon nowadays, I thought it important to create a marketing department to promote the benefits of good clean living. I personally always see a reduction in my massive girth. Telling you I lost 7lbs is impressive, but it doesn't really tell the story, so this year I took a picture on the first day and the last day. That way you could see a true before and after. I suppose I should just let my new brochure speak for itself. Enjoy!

In about 3 hours I will have successfully completed Febrehabruariii. This was, by far, the easiest of the trilogy thus far. I think having people doing it with me helped a lot. Plus, I'm getting pretty good at it. And the vegan thing just made it such a joy. I don't intend to binge tomorrow on anything, but I'd be surprised if I went too far into March without a relapse. I have this birthday party to go to on Saturday and that will probably be the end of sobriety for me. If I don't have something to drink on Friday.

My total weight loss was right around 7 pounds this year. That's about half of what I wanted to lose. And I know I said I wouldn't stop until I lose the weight I wanted, but ... I take it back. I am going to do whatever I want, but it just so happens that I want to stay a vegan and I want to stay on my workout routine. So everything should just work itself out.

I got a badass new haircut last week. It's kind of a mohawk, kind of a rat tail, and has a wicked triangle in the back. It's the haircut I intended to get last time, but this time I went all out. Oh man it is so cool. Daniel got his cut by Xristofer for the first time, too. His is a little more subtle than mine but also pretty wicked. His sides were clipper cut real short and kind of extend to the back of his head. You just have to see it.

I had all kinds of things planned to blog about but I'm having a really hard time remembering them now, so this will have to suffice. Leave me congratulations, bitches.

Happy to report things are still going well. I just got back from Daniel's parents' house. His mother cooked this vegetable medley that we poured over soy cheese biscuits. It was pretty delish. She's made a few really exquisite meals for me this month. Such a treat.

One more weekend to go and then, while I am not stopping Febrehabruariii, I am going to reward myself by relaxing the rules a bit. Like tonight, Daniel's mom was going to put anchovies on the salad and remembered last minute to leave them separate. If it were March and there were anchovies on the salad, I would just shut up and eat them. Or if there were wine at the meal, I would have a glass. But for the most part, I am not going to have a cigarette and I'm not going to binge drink. And I'm going to continue to eat a diet that is rich in an assortment of fresh fruits and vegetables instead of 98% soft chicken taco combos. Then we'll just see what happens from there. I am happy to report that my weight loss has resumed, thank g*d, and I've lost a solid 5 pounds now. I'd really like to see more go away, but even this 5 pounds has made a little bit of improvement.

Last weekend we joined our fellow Febrehaber, Lauren, for her game night. She just wanted to have a few friends over to play board games and enjoy a little sober fun. To get people to come, though, she told them if they would like to bring something to drink they could. It turned into too many people drinking and not really being too interested in the games. But I still had a blast. We played Trivial Pursuit Pop Culture Edition and I did pretty well at it. I wasn't the self proclaimed champion of Trivial Pursuit Pop Culture Edition like some people, but I still did better at it then I do the original version that we play at my parents' house.

There was even a chocolate fondue fountain there. It was making a squeeking noise, though, so someone turned it off halfway through the night causing it to solidify and become a total mess. The girl who brought it set out to trying to clean it up. So she had the outer portion of it removed and all that was left was the internal screw that draws the chocolate to the top. Keith told me that he was going to turn it on without the outer portion on. I tried to stop him. I begged him to consider the consequences for his actions. But, alas, I was unsuccessful. Some people. Sheesh. Chocolate went EVERYwhere. We're talking counter tops, carpet, walls, clothes. All I could do was shake my head emphatically and give Keith disapproving looks.

When the wall wouldn't come clean, Daniel and I set off to Walgreens to pick up a Mr. Clean Magic Eraser (the greatest cleaning product known to man). While we were walking around, I got a hair up my ass to get Lauren an "I'm sorry" gift in case she mistakenly thought I had anything to do with turning on the chocolate fountain. What we ended up with was a card that sings, "I'm sorry ... soooo sorry," a decorative bag with tissue paper, Mr. Clean Magic Erasers, and a box of Summer's Eve douche. The card read something like, "Lauren, we're sorry chocolate accidentally got all over your apartment. To apologize we got you the best cleaning products we could find." We giggled for about a solid hour over giving Lauren a box o' douche. The ironic part was that after she opened it, the Summer's Eve still wasn't the biggest douchebox at the party.

But still, it was a great time and we will definitely have to do it again some time. Thanks for being such a gracious hostess, Lauren, and congratulations on being one week away from your first successful Febrehabilitation!

Good morning, boys and girls. Today I greet you from the confines of my very spacious and comfortable bed. And although I am breaking one of the covenants of sleep by doing something other than sleeping or fucking in bed, I'm afraid I have very little choice. You see, it wasn't my internet that was broken, it was my wireless router. And since I know precious little about networking, and am employed somewhere where I basically do nothing but troubleshoot all day every day, I have very little interest in trying to fix it. So for now, I'm just going to plug in in my bedroom. Who knows, maybe if I ignore the problem long enough, it'll go away. Seems to work for everything else. At least Ryan Short gave me his extra 6' cable, so I could quit using the 6" cable that ties my router to the wall.

He gave it me to pay for the lunch that I made him. I think maybe you should all start calling me Sidesho With His Shoes Off. I was watching Ina Garten (Contessa With Her Shoes Off) the other day and she was making roasted tomato basil soup. And I thought to myself, "I could do that. I could fuckin do that." So I printed out the recipe and went to the store. The only edits I had to make were soy margarine instead of butter and vegetable stock instead of chicken broth. Cooking is so much easier than baking because you can make substitutions without it ruining everything. But seriously, folks, this soup was from absolute scratch. I chopped up onions and garlic cloves and sauteed them in margarine and olive oil with a sprinkle of red pepper flakes. Meanwhile my tomatoes cut in half were tossed in olive oil, salt, and pepper and were roasting in the oven. Then I mixed them with a can of whole tomatoes, vegetable stock, a shit ton of fresh basil, and thyme. After that boiled and simmered for 40 minutes, I busted out my brand new immersion blender and went to town. Awesome. I do have to say my tomato basil soup was a smidge better than La Madelines. And now that I'm confident in the recipe, I can totally tweak it to my liking.

Being a vegan is proving more challenging than good, clean living. But it is distracting me a little bit from the pains of withdrawl. Unfortunately, it's also making me gassy. I've never had gas before. It's bizarre. I have to assume that drastically altering my diet is to blame and hopefully it'll calm down once I get situated. Because I'll tell you one thing, I will either starve or explode before I break Febrehabruariii. I committed to this and I'm going to see it through til the end, but at this point, don't expect me to be a vegan again next year.

Best wishes to my fellow Febrehabruariiites, especially Matt Cweech who has taken this to the extreme and is ingesting nothing but lemonade for a month. You are truly more hardcore than I, sir. Laaaaaaaaaate.

On your mark! Get set! Go! Febrehabruariii begins! So far so good. I was nursing a raging hangover this morning -- one so bad that it required me taking a bath when I rightfully should have been at work -- so that always makes day one a breeze. I'm mostly just hungry. I think I ate enough today, I just never got that hungover satisfaction that a greezy mushroom swiss burger can bring. So far I've had plain ass oatmeal, a veggie sub, cashews, apple sauce and a protein shake. Not exactly busting a gut, but whatever, my body will adjust.

Last night Daniel and I celebrated our one year anniversary. Now, before any of you point out what I know you're going to point out, we decided that no matter how good or how bad things were for a while there, this was still the day that our relationship began. But we decided to party on Febrehabruariii Eve so that we could booze it up at dinner and whatnot. We ate at SoHo over on Beltline. Tres chic, great food, good atmosphere. I can't believe I've never been there. We might go back at some point because they serve hummus and I'm gonna eat me some hummus this month.

I just got back from the grocery store with 100 dollars worth of suitable vegan delights. You can't imagine how hard it was to find bread without milk in it. Or margarine that was totally soy. Reading labels sucks. It takes so much longer to shop. The other downside is that almost everything I got is perishable. So if for some reason I don't eat it all, then it totally goes to waste.

So okay, Daniel just walked in and busted me using his computer. My internet has been down for over a week, hence the lack of updates. I'm gonna go upstairs now and make myself some more blueberry muffins, but this time I'm going to try putting some blueberry juice in the batter like maybe in place of some of the water because I want them to come out blue. Huzzah!

Good luck to everyone who is participating, and by that, I mean Lauren.

My wine fridge fit almost perfectly under the "bar" area in my living room. It couldn't have been any better if it were custom built. However, the depth was an issue. It had about a 6" overhang. It wasn't a big deal, since that isn't a high traffic area, but still, I thought maybe I could do a little better. I have these built in shelves recessed into a corner of my living room. They occupy the perfect little nook. I think I've shown you a picture of them before when I debuted my Beethoven bust. The only problem was that the bottom shelf would need to be removed.

Let me preface this by saying I'd been laying on the couch watching home improvement shows all day, which sadly, always inspires me to do something to my own apartment. Usually it's painting, but today it was demolition. I got out my biggest hammer and started swinging upward as hard I could. All I really accomplished was some noise pollution. I was on the verge of just giving up when I had an idea.

I ran down to the garage to the trunk of my car and retrieved my jack. I figured if it could hold up my car, it could certainly exert enough force to pry off a book shelf. And I was right. I jacked the shit out of that thing, bending nails and removing them from the framework. It was brilliant. After I finished destroying the shelf, I painted the exposed wall red to match the rest and the results are perfect. You'd never know there was a shelf there to begin with. I popped in the wine fridge and it looks like it was always meant to be there. So excited.

That's all I really had to tell you. I'm leaving tomorrow for Seattle so it depends on how busy I am how much I'll update. This time I have Stuart's phone number so we're hopefully going to hang out a lot. Oh! And yesterday I was walking into my building and ran into Grande. He fuckin' moved into my building just down the stairs from me. So welcome to the neighborhood, friend. Sorry I am leaving for two weeks right when you got here but we'll have a house warming when I get back.

Peace out, have-nots.

Well hello there, have-nots. Welcome to the year 2007. I hope this year has found you all in good spirits and continues to do so for the next twelve months. I have had a pretty good year thus far. In the past, my new year's resolution every year was "to be more open and honest with my opinion." I feel like I might have achieved it every year also. So this time, I came up with a new one. I've decided to stop complaining about my job.

It's true what they say about your attitude being about 10% what happens to you and 90% how you react to it. Why should I continue pretending to be surprised by the bull shit I go through? Why not just prepare for it, deal with it, and have a good time doing it? Well, that's just what I'm doing. So far it is working out brilliantly. Like the other day when I found out my trip to Seattle had been moved up one week without anyone telling me or asking me, I just decided it was okay. And then it wasn't a big deal. Sure, it should have pissed me off, but I didn't let it. So on Monday morning I am flying back to Seattle once again. Yippee skippy.

In other news, Salmie passed away last night. Please don't buy me another fish. I'm going to take a break from pet ownership for a while. He was a good fish, and he will be remembered and mourned.

Febrehabruariii is right around the corner. Are you as excited as I am about that? I've done some serious thinking and I've come to a decision about this year. I am going to give up smoking and drinking, of course. But I'm also giving up meat. Yes, folks, you heard me right. And not just meat, but all animal products. Sidesho is going vegan. I don't think the actual practicality of it will be all that difficult. I normally eat an apple at 8, oatmeal at 10, Subway at noon, snack bar at 3, peanut butter sandwich at 5, protein shake after a workout, and then a chicken breast for dinner. So okay, I'll have a veggie sub instead at lunch and then for dinner I'll experiment with soy beans and tofu and the like. I think it'll all but guarantee that I match my first year's weight loss of 11 lbs... believe me, I have it to lose this year! I just pray I don't have to travel during Febrehabruariii.

Daniel just called me. He was throwing up early this morning and went home to sleep. Now he needs a thermometer to see if he's really sick or just feeling icky. So I gotta run to Walgreens. I might pick up some tomato cocktail. It's a little more expensive but thats okay. I don't mind. I try to support my local businesses.

Laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaate.

Whew. Thank g*d that is over! No, I'm not talking about the holidaze; I'm talking about the plague I came through this week. On Xmas night, I went with Ryan Short to have a few beers, came home, went to bed nearly sober. I woke up about an hour later and the onslaught of vomit, et. al., began. It lasted well into the morning where I found myself so dehydrated and so weak I was unable to hold myself up to throw up anymore, so I just kind of rested my head on the toilet seat and then slumped to the ground.

Something similar happened to me once in college and I ended up getting carted out of the dorm on a stretcher and into an ambulance. So I figured that might be a good idea again. But my insurance company has a 24 hour nurse hotline that I'm in the habit of calling before going to the ER, because that shit's expensive. The nurse wasn't too concerned with my symptoms and taught me how to rehydrate myself without enducing more vomit. I wanted to share it with you all. If you throw up, you should wait an hour before you attempt to eat or drink anything. Then after one hour you can begin to drink one ounce of water every 20 minutes. I did that, threw up one more time, tried it again, and it finally worked.

So there I was at 8 in the morning, freezing cold, sweating, shaking, my lips are dry and my stomach is tumbling, holding onto a shot glass filled with tap water watching the clock waiting for the next time that I can start sipping my meager nourishment again. It sucked so bad.

But, 16 hours later, I had progressed to crackers, and 24 hours later, I was basically fine. Still, it was awful. But at least the next time it happens I'll know what to do.

Other than that Xmas was good. Lots of little kids. Five total nieces and nephews this year. It's a far cry from the adult-only Xmases of yesteryear where everything was accompanied by a glass of scotch. But it was fun to convince a toddler that a fat man with a sack of toys climbed down the chimney while she was taking a nap. I've never really gotten to do that.

I got a wine fridge for Xmas. My brother Michael from California got it for me. It holds 28 bottles! I'm trying to figure out the best way to stock it. I might just buy a case of my favorite wine and then fill in the rest a few bottles at a time. But shit, 28 bottles is a lot. So if you want to bring me some wine, feel free, I have plenty of real estate.

In other news, Daniel has been in California for a long time now. He met up with his old baby sitter while he was there (he grew up there). She is now married to the brother of the mom from Mr. Belvedere! I'm not sure how that fact came to light, but it's true. Beeeoooowwwwww Streaks on the china! He said they're going to try to get me an autographed picture from her. I would truly cherish it. He also said they're going to give her my webpage address so she can see my Mr. Belvedere montage. That would rule. So if you're her, then welcome! I'm a huge fan. And we just might live the good life yet!

Last night I went to Daniel's parents' house for dinner as we do from time to time. When I got there, there was a large, misshapen box wrapped and bowed for me. It was an xmas present from the whole family. I was pretty excited to open it. The first thing that was in there was a large, hollow, fake gourd. His mother had placed it on top of the box to throw me off as to the contents. But below that was a brand new receiver! (As if a rectangular box is obviously receiver shaped.) Now, I know they say it's better to give than to receive, but if you give a receiver, does it all even out?

I have no speakers, but Daniel had a few that he doesn't use anymore and an extra subwoofer just laying around. He also had a VCR he doesn't use any more. So we trucked it all over to my apartment and I ate chips while he hooked it all up. Yes, folks, this relationship is finally starting to pay off.

A little while ago Daniel came home with two festive holiday ovalish kleenex boxes. His mother had given them to him and told him to give one to me. I chose the one I liked better. For some reason they were all in half English, half French, and the top of mine said, "Doux." So I said, "Oh my g*d, Daniel, why does this say 'douche'?!" And he grabbed the box, panic striken, and after reading it ... continued to be panic striken for a good additional 4 seconds. And I laughed. So hard.

I didn't laugh so much at the fact that I was able to convince him, albeit momentarily, that the kleenex was actually a douchebox (that's a new insult, try it). I laughed because I imagined his mother, innocently reaching into what she thought was a douchebox and pulling out a kleenex instead. And then she kind of pauses, confused, face melts to terror, and she yells, "Oh no! Danny!"

We were relaying that story to a girl friend of Daniel's and we were laughing about how douche could very well come in a box, as much as we know about it, which is nothing. And she informed us that douche is nothing but vinegar and water! There you go, ladies. I help you out. Save yourself some money.

Speaking of recipes, yesterday I found these really delicious looking avacados at the grocery store. I've never made guacamole before, but I was inspired. So I called my brother because his wife makes a pretty killer batch of guac. Her recipe uses salsa. Holy crap, that's brilliant. Instead of chopping up all the onions and g*d knows what else people pile in there, you just spoon in salsa. And then a little salt, pepper, and garlic powder. Mmm Mmm. I hope she doesn't mind me divulging her secrets here. But seriously, it was so easy and delicious. I left it sitting out and it turned black. Shit. But I have half a mind to go get some more 'cados. But I probably won't.

Oh dear, my father is bringing over new end tables for me tonight and my apartment is a total mess. I should probably at least hide the mess if I don't clean the mess. Hangovers are so demotivating. We'll see how far I get. Is it just me or do my hungover posts jump from subject to subject a lot more than normal? Oh well. Later have-nots.

Daniel's lil sister let us borrow one disc of the latest season of Family Guy. We couldn't help but watch the entire thing last night. On one episode Stewie is getting annoyed because people keep talking while he's trying to watch Mr. Belvedere. So he starts screaming the theme song on top of them. Way funny. But I remarked to Daniel, "How many people on Earth know the Mr. Belvedere theme song well enough to make that joke?" You can be sure it's a minority ... a minority I must be a part of. So we went to YouTube. g*d bless YouTube. Of course they had it. And now, for your viewing pleasure ... the first YouTube I've ever posted on my blog:

I need you all to watch it because you can't hang out with Daniel and I right now without being able to laugh when one of us imitates the trombone intro and we start singing, "Streaks on the china ... never mattered before. Who cares? Drop kick your jacket as you came through the door. No one's there! According to our new arrival, life is more than mere survival and we just might live the good life yet." Hilarious. As if people who can afford a fucking fat, sassy British live-in butler haven't quite gotten to experience the good life yet.

When I was trying to find the Mr. Belvedere theme, I was thinking all I could remember is that there was a montage of photos for each cast member. So I'm going to try and recreate it for myself.

Oh man, I'm awesome. Lastly, I just have to mention the SNL sketch where they had a support group for people who were in love with Mr. Belvedere. Only they called him Brocktoon or something like that so that other people outside of the club wouldn't know they were talking about Mr. Belvedere. Holy shit, I never thought my life would be so inundated with a crappy 80's sitcom starring Bob Uecker for xrist's sake. Oh well, you should all be so lucky.

Since I know you've all been waiting with baited breath (if you've been eating anchovies), I've come to share the results of my experiment. I left a sacrificial beer out over night until it reached room temperature (which, oddly enough, when it's cold outside is around 75, although during the summer hovers closer to 65 ... must be the dew point). Parenthetical interjections aside, I am proud to announce that my digital thermometer plunged from 75 to 32 (as low as the thermometer goes -- d'oh, sorry I'll stop interrupting) in under 2 minutes. And that was with the beer not fully submerged so I could measure it!

I can now rest easy knowing that so long as I leave my largest tupperware container filled with salt water in the freezer, i can always have ice cold beer in under a minute. Whew! One less thing to worry about.

In other news, some fuck head screwed up my webpage the other night. Unfortunately for him, I check my comments about every 2 to 3 minutes. Jonny was his name. Whatever html code he had posted in my comments section automatically redirected me to some website that I had to click to enter. I was too scared to do it, though, because no good comes from that. But you, my faithful viewers, are inevitably braver than I (or on the library computer so who cares?). So I need you to go to http://usuc.us/j.php and tell me what it is. It even fucked up the inner workings of my webpage, so I had to go thru each entry with comments still open, open it in notepad, erase his damage, and then resync everything. It was quite a pain in the ass. Oh, and now, no html allowed in comments any more ('cept bold, italic and links). Fucker.

Also, just for the record, if you are ever redirected off of my website, then just shut down Internet Explorer. I never, under any circumstances, allow you to leave my website. All of my links always open in a new window. Just, y'know, in case this is an identity theft thing.

Whailp, I guess that's all I have to say. Fuck you, Jonny. The rest of you are cool. Peace out.

I like to think of myself as an aspirer. There's nothing I really excel at, but there are many, many things I am aspiring to be. Just one of those, as you may know, is a MythBuster. Although I do feel the need to recall my Brita water filter vodka experiment and mention that I did that before the MythBusters did.

Anywho, let me tell you about my latest experiment. This one is based on the episode where they test the absolutely retarded idea that burying beer in the sand, dousing it with gasoline, and lighting it on fire will cool the beer down ... as fire tends to do to things. They obviously busted this myth, but then set about finding out the fastest way to cool down a six pack. Keith can tell you that the fastest way to do so is in a cooler full of ice and salt water. You can bring the temperature of the salt water down to around 25 degrees Fahrenheit, envelop the can in the sub-freezing liquid, and a few minutes later, you've got a frosty cold beer. I've used this a few times in a pinch when the only available case of Kers Lat (or Miller when I'm at Lesbie's) is off the shelf. But it requires a sink, all the ice in the ice maker, and the remainder of salt in the house. Could this be improved?

Hypothesis: If I could get a saline solution with enough salt that it wouldn't freeze solid in the freezer, I could have instant beer cooling liquid on hand at all times. Plop a beer in for 30 seconds, rinse and drink. It should be fast enough that I don't mind doing it one beer at a time.

Research: Now, I do all of my research on the internet from uncertified websites, so if you see any flaws here, please let me know. What I read tells me that the average freezer is set at 0 degrees Fahrenheit ... well below water's freezing point. At first I thought it might be too cold at any salinity. But, another website suggested that when water reaches saturation of salt, the freezing point can be lowered to around -6 degrees Fahrenheit. So, it's probable that if I pour a shit ton of salt into a bowl of water and place it in the freezer, it will still be a liquid in the morning. A super chilled beer frosting liquid.

I was surprised how much salt the water could handle. You wouldn't expect me to be surprised since in the sixth grade I took second place in the science fair with, "Which Liquid Can Hold the Most Salt?" I received glowing comments like, "Why?" No reason, bitch, I was just fucking curious. g*d! Oh well, it was much better than my brother's, "Does Fertilizer Help Plants Grow?" Turns out it does. Anyway, it took about half a can of salt, but I wanted to make absolutely sure that it was saturated and had a few crystals left over that it couldn't absorb. And now, we wait.

I'll keep you all posted on my progress.

Have you people heard about this crap with Michael Richards? He's better known -- or rather, only known -- as that dude that played Kramer on Seinfeld. He was recently performing at the Laugh Factory. Two black guys were talking during his set and it pissed him off. He went on this tirade screaming the N word repeatedly peppered with a a few hearty "motherfuckers!" I suggest you all go to youtube.com and search for it if you haven't seen it yet.

He later apologized via satellite during Jerry Seinfeld's interview on David Letterman. It was pretty lame, as most public apologies are. Honestly, I'm not so much offended as a black man. I'm more offended as someone with a sense of humor. What he did was wildly uncalled for. When Steve Harvey had people not paying attention to his standup, he asked them what they did for a living and then made fun of "computer school." When Bill Burr was heckled in Philadelphia he went on a rant about how much Philly and their sports teams sucked. And the crowd loved it. When two black guys weren't paying attention to Michael Richards he wanted to lynch them and spouted racial epithets. The crowd gets up and starts to file out. He has since been banned from performing at the Laugh Factory.

I really think that heckling is as much a part of standup as standup is. It's all well and good to have a really polished act, but if you can't vibe with the audience and go with the flow, then you aren't really a very good comedian. And if you throw a tantrum when someone doesn't listen to you, then you're just a crotchety old man who is probably better suited to physical comedy in a sit-com setting.

I wonder if he would even be apologizing or feeling bad if somebody didn't happen to have a video camera during this performance. My guess is no. But what I really wonder is why he would perform in a Klan robe. Geeeheeheeezus, that's just asking for it.

Friday night Daniel and I went to the movie theater on account of my surgery keeping me from being able to drink. Whenever I'm sober and I try to think of something to do, I always end up at the movie theater. It's just about the only wholesome activity I am aware exists.

As we were pulling up to the Valley View Mall, we were behind this ostentatious Mercedes-Benz SUV. It had a flatscreen TV at the front of the passenger cabin and one at the back. And instead of seats it had benches. The side of the truck had this huge picture of this old dude with Einstein hair and his signature and logo. It was none other than... drum roll... Peter Nygård! Holy shit!

If you're like me, then your reaction to that news was a little something like, "Who?" As we passed by Dillards we saw people running around with walkie-talkies and a crowd of people waiting. This was clearly where Peter was heading. We parked by the movie theater and then I ran over to Dillards because I was far too curious. I asked a guy with an earpiece who Peter Nygård was and he said he designs women's clothes that sell at Dillards. Well it just so happened that as I was getting this information, the same Mercedes-Benz monstrosity pulled up next to me.

About 6 hot hoochies stepped out first. Daniel was pulling me toward the theater so we could get seats but I told him to wait because I really wanted to clap for Peter Nygård. So this old guy steps out and I started clapping wildly, trying to get everyone around me started as well. It didn't work. And I didn't stop.

I was clearly on drugs.

Then we went to see the new James Bond flick, Casino Royale. Read my review. It was so awesome. I want you all to go see it today.

As many of you know, mostly due to my constant reminders, yesterday I bid a sweet farewell to my tonsils. I have hated these things for years and years and years. They were too big and always getting in the way. And the slightest bit of disease in my bloodstream and they would swell up and start making out with each other. Nasty.

So I had a tonsillectomy. The week prior to the tonsillectomy, I googled things like, "What to expect after a tonsillectomy," "I am going to have a tonsillectomy," "Benefits of a laser tonsillectomy." I say these things in case anyone else is in my predicament and turns to the all knowing, all powerful Google for answers. I found several online forums dedicated entirely to people who have had tonsillectomies. Crazy, I know. They were all miserable. People were posting things like, "It's been 16 days and still no relief. I want to die." Talking all about how they can't take the pain but 3 weeks on a steady supply of painkillers was driving them insane. How malnurished they were from not being able to eat or swallow. Scary, scary stuff.

But I didn't have a traditional tonsillectomy. I had this brand new procedure done. My tonsils weren't actually removed, they were vaporized. And they didn't remove the entire thing, only about 90% of the tissue. You see, the tonsils sit in your throat and attach themselves in and among some muscle wall lining of your neck. In order to excise them, you must cut into that muscle -- hence unbearable pain. But you can get all the benefits of a full tonsillectomy by removing 90% of the tissue -- most certainly in my case since it was just an obstruction. The 10% of tissue they leave behind is the stuff that is attached to the muscle wall. No cutting, no pain.

I did have to endure once again getting numbed up. I had to take about 16 shots directly into the tonsils. Not pleasant. And you know how when you have a tooth pulled, you're like totally numb, but you can still feel them ripping your tooth out, your head jerks back and forth, you hear the root cracking free from the jawbone. Okay, it's like that. It didn't hurt to have my tonsils lasered into vapor, but I could feel it. And it was weird and unpleasant. Not to mention the fact that every few minutes we had to stop so I could blow the smoke out of my mouth. Acrid, nasty, foul smoke. Although once I did successfully blow a smoke ring and the doctor was impressed. And of course, the farther into the tonsil that we ventured, the less numbing medication had made it down there, so occasionally we had to stop and swab the gaping open wounds in my mouth with more numbing agent.

It sounds horrific, and it was, but nothing compared to the alternative. So this is my advice to you all. If you're thinking of getting a tonsillectomy -- STOP! Do not do a fucking thing until you've spoken to me and we're making sure you're getting a true laser tonsillectomy, not just using a laser to cauterize the wounds to reduce bleeding. Why would you bother listening to me? Let's just say that yesterday for lunch, I had Chic-Fil-A. For dinner, I had a large slice of Pastazio's sausage pizza. And on the way home from the movies, we stopped off at Wendy's. This morning I woke up... no pain. I am beyond ecstatic, especially since I took a week off work to recover and it appears I'm already done.

Everything that can be done, has been done. If this doesn't do the trick, then I'm just gonna have to fight, fuck, or hit the fence. I don't really know what the means but Justin emailed me about Con-Air the other day and random quotes got stuck in my head as a result. I'm off now, it's time for a pill cocktail and a lazy day. Peace out.

My apologies to anybody who has had a birthday party in the past that I've attended. Because you've all been trumped. Let me tell you a little bit about the best birthday party ever.

I guess I should start by wishing Adam a very happy 23rd. His birthday was this last Thursday and he threw a humdinger of a shindig on Saturday. We rode around Dallas on a g*d damned charter bus drinking, singing, dancing, and bar hopping. It was so much fun. We were on the bus from about 10 until a little after 2 and went to the Walrus Bar, Iron Cactus, and ended up at Sherlocks in Addison. His friends were all super and I drank more than I have in a really long time. Daniel and I both slept the next day until 5pm. I haven't done that in years. I can't imagine how much trouble Adam went through to put all of this together, but I encourage all of you to copy him. And invite me.

In other news, just a remind that the ol' tonsils come out on Friday. So I'll be out of commission for a while. They claim one day. I'm planning on one week minimum. Please don't visit since I'm removing a part of my immune system and won't be fully protected again until it fully heals, but feel free to send me get-well-soon money. Laaaaaaaaate.

I just spent a good 10 minutes cleaning up about a whole cup of sugar from the counter tops and floor of my kitchen. You might think I'd be annoyed by the necessity, given the Fantastik-sugar slurry that is embedded in my fingernails, or the history of ants I've had in this apartment, but you'd be wrong. I was chuckling heartily the entire time.

I chuckled because the sugary dusting reminded me of yet another good time from the other drunken night with Thommi and Brett Sabulous. It was around 3am ... or maybe 6am, who remembers ... and I decided I was hungry. Since I've been out of town for a week my fridge is understandably barren. Sidenote: Why is refrigerator abbreviated fridge? Where the fuck did the 'D' come from? I guess because frige might be pronounced [frig*gy]? Where was I? Oh yeah -- empty friggy.

So I channeled the spirits of Contessa With Her Shoes Off and set about making a fabulous dinner party. If I learned one thing in my stint as an aspiring cook, it's that anything can be fried in butter ... and everything is better fried in butter. So I took a tortilla and a frying pan and set to work. The first one was pretty good and after sharing my concoction with my guests, there were three chefs in the kitchen. Three chefs with ideas for improvements. We set about to spicing things up.

The first thing we found in the ol' spice cabinet (I call it that because it's the only cabinet that has more than zero spices in it ... and less than three) was garlic salt. A few massive crispy garlic salt chips later and we were back in the ol' spice cabinet looking for round two -- not to mention downing beers to rehydrate our tongues. Sugar! Fuck yeah! Sugar would be fantastic. So Brett made a few sugar tortillas. Not bad ... but lacking. I kicked it up a notch by making a bowl of cimanimanon sugar. As I fried my butter tortilla, I hit it with pinches of cimanimanon sugar. It was alright, but not really flavorful enough.

Brett informed me that the traditional way to sugar pastries is with a sifter ... which I just happened to have. He said three sifts of sugar should be perfect. So I got my sifter out, Brett held it above the tortilla, and I poured the bowl of sugar into it. It turns out that sifters really only work with confectioners sugar, not so much with cane. It all fell immediately thru and piled on top of our dessert. Unphased, we both said, "Ooooonnnnneeee!" Two empty sifts later and we had the best fucking drunken breakfast ever dreamed up.

So anyway, that's why I cleaned up all night. I guess I could have just said, "We fried tortillas in butter and put sugar on them," but I think the long version was much, much better. See you skillets on the flip siiiiiiide.

I don't think I would even attempt this blog were it not for the raging hangover I am weathering at the moment. Sometimes it clouds my judgement. I am going to try to explain to you all why twice yesterday I almost wet myself laughing on separate occasions, but I fear the "I guess you had to be there." Alas, onward and upward let's start the show.

The first time I laughed, I was sitting on my couch watching TV with my dear friend JennyCole. Incidentally, JennyCole is concerned that whenever I mention her on my website, it's usually combined with some kind of rip on Mormons -- because they're all fucking retarded -- but this time I wanted it to be different. I want you all to know that JennyCole is cool man, yeah. So okay, we're on the couch and that new Campbell's soup commercial comes on. It goes, "Campbells, mmm mmm good... possibilities!" And it shows some douchebag dipping a grilled cheese sandwich into their tomato soup. When the commercial was over, Jenny was all, "Really... just how many possibilities are there... it's soup." And we started laughing and singing, "Crumble a cracker on top, um, or you could just dip in bread. Possibilities!" But also you have to imagine some guy in a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, pencil in his mouth, plinking away at the piano. He's just come up with the perfect tune and chorus and is now desperately trying to come up with some possibilities for soup. Punctuate the day with random bursts of "Campbells! Mmm! Mmm! good... possibilities!" and you've got instant funny.

The next time I laughed hysterically was after Thommi and I got back from S4. Oh yeah, Thommi's here, but I'll talk about that another time. I'm not sure if he's lied to anybody and I'm not supposed to mention he's here. Anyway, Daniel and I were relating a story about something we'd chuckled about the other day, but this time it was g*d diddly damn hilarious. His mother loves this wine called Conundrum. It's kind of sweet for my taste, but certainly tasty, you should try it. The reason it's called Conundrum is because the flavors within are hard to discern. And the slogan is, "Puzzling, yet satisfying." I'm not sure if that's actually the slogan or if Daniel made that up. So then we embellished it to, "Puzzling, yet satisfying ... like a toe in the twat." Because that's the only thing we could think of that was both puzzling and satisfying. Now for this one you have to imagine a black and white CK type commercial with a woman in bed. There's a man sleeping head-to-toe with her. First her face is startled, then horrified, then utterly confused, then a huge satisfied smile. Conundrum. Like a toe in the twat.

I swear to fucking xrist, I should be in marketing. Speaking of jebus, there are these xmas cards I want at Urban Outfitters. It has a picture of jebus on the front gathering the children around him and he's saying, "Happy Birthday to me!" and then on the back they say, "Merry Christmas to you!" So cute.

Okay, I'm going to join the recovery sleep fest again. If you didn't think this blog was funny, then you obviously just didn't get it. Laaaaaaaaaaaaate.

If you haven't ever seen Dave Chapelle's Block Party, I suggest you go rent it immediately and bask in it. Just bask. I rented it last night when Blockbuster didn't have Stangers with Candy (so lame). So now I'm sitting home alone with a bottle of Patrón chilling in the freezer thoroughly enjoying myself. I got dressed up for no reason, fried some dinner in butter and life is good.

I remember the first time I saw Block Party. It was when the ever lovely Miss Lesbie Ann Bizzell was in my hizzell and we wanted a drizzell in the mornizzle, like you do. After drinking breakfast at the Gecko we went to Studio Movie Grill and laughed our asses off at this movie in between martinays. Loves it.

On Monday I have to get up at 4am. I have a 6am flight to Manassas, VA. Well, there's no airport in Manassas, obviously, but it is right near Washingtown, DC. I have to be there for a week with work. I would be lying if I didn't say I was looking forward to it. I've gotten in a rut lately, if you haven't noticed. I hardly ever leave my apartment. I never go anywhere or do anything. That is one downfall to dating. You just get comfortable and stop trying to look around for fun things to do. So now I'm going to Manassas. If I weren't dating Daniel then I'd say I looked forward to getting some asses in Manassas, but it's just a tag line now.

I got my sister's name in our annual xmas gift exchange. She's a 30-something news anchor, soon-to-be-mother of two with a brand new house. Give me gift ideas. I am not having any ideas pop into my head.

Like I said, not too many hilarious stories to tell from the couch unless you want me to recount my favorite episodes of Family Guy.... No? Then FUCK YOU. I'm out. Peace.

In my continuing quest to save money, I got my teeth Zoom! whitened on Thursday. I hadn't really considered doing it until my 200 year old dentist put it in my head that I would be an excellent candidate for tooth whitening. Who the fuck isn't a good candidate? Honestly. Anyway, after hearing that I started thinking my teeth were fugly and yellow so I did it. If you're considering this Zoom! whitening, I want you all to think about it seriously.

I had to be in this chair for like 2 hours. They even gave me a pillow before we started, which should have been my first clue. Then they put that thing in your mouth that holds your lips back and get to work. Since Zoom! is speed up with some kind of light (I don't know what kind exactly, just that it will burn your skin if left exposed) they have to cover all of your tissue. That includes the lips, face, gums. They used some gauze-like material and shoved it into every nook and cranny of my mouth. Along my gums they used that blue shit that hardens under a light. So a piece of gauze along my gum line, and then the hardened blue shit down to the detailed sections, holding the gauze down. It was so uncomfortable. Then they shove this overhead projector inside your mouth and you can't move for 15 minute intervals.

I think my teeth are definitely better. The doctor says I went from and A2/A3 to an A1/B1, so you KNOW that's good right? But the fact of the matter is, my teeth weren't that bad before and they're not that great now, so I have yet to have anyone notice. I haven't given up yet though because I have a 2 week at home treatment to complete before the process is over. I just have to wait until Sunday to begin that or she said my teeth would get too sensitive.

My teeth are also dehydrated ... something I was unaware was possible. You'd think them being bone, first off, would make it hard to dehydrate them. And living their entire lives in a saliva filled pie hole might help too. But they assure me my teeth are dehydrated. So to drink coffee would not only be counterproductive during the whitening process, but would actually have a greater effect than usual. My teeth will soak up any pigment they are given. So essentially for the next 3 weeks or so, no coffee, no tea, no smoking, and absolutely no red wine. Arg. So far so good on all accounts. I got some vodka last night and Daniel made me a martini but the urge to smoke was growing, growing so I went to bed instead.

And that's just about all that's been happening lately. Sorry for the lack of posts, but either my life has gotten boring or my alertness as of late has made me less apt to mull over details of my day to find an interesting story for you all. Either way, I'm still goin strong. Tell your friends about me.

The other night I got Daniel a popsicle. He said, "What flavor is it?" to which I replied, "Purple." "No, what flavor?" as if I am some kind of fucktard and didn't hear him. Back me up on this, but purple is most definitely a flavor. In fact, I think this is so common that even this joke is recycled.

Man, what the fuck is juice? I want some drink.

I spent the afternoon layin around watching TV. I saw this show about lottery winners and how their lives had changed since winning. It kind of made me want to win the lottery. So when I went to pay my rent, I stopped off and got 3 quickpicks. I should have 15 million dollars on Tuesday. I've decided that if I do win, I will most definitely post it on my website, even though they say you shouldn't tell anybody. But I'll also tell you up front, none of you are getting a fucking dime, so don't even ask. I'm not gonna be one of those people who doesn't change. When they interview people about me you're all going to say, "Oh he's completely changed. He used to be a nice guy but now all he does is fan himself with $100s and laugh." Yeah, it's going to be sweet.

Some of the advice these brilliant lottery winners gave was to play the lottery as often as you possibly can, and make sure you don't take the lump sum. RE-tards. One poor woman who won $91 million played the lottery every week for 18 years. And while I can hardly tell her she's an idiot since she has $90.9998 million more than me, I can tell you she probably wouldn't have been as poor if she was making smarter decisions with her money than that. And that goober who didn't take the lump some will get 200k for the next 26 years, at the end of which he'll probably have nothing. Idiots.

I'm going to do it right, though. I intend to spend my 15 million within the first 6 months. Rawk!

A lot of bodily functions make sense to me. If dirt gets into your nose, you sneeze it out. If you get a scratch, a scab forms. If smoke gets in your eyes, you cry. If you chug a pitcher of beer in under a minute, you throw it up. It all makes sense.

What doesn't make sense to me is a runny nose. Why on earth does your nose drip mucus when you have a cold? Like what fucking purpose does that serve? It doesn't even crust over to prevent further contamination, just a steady stream of liquid snot running down your face. I'm gonna have to ask Darwin about that one.

So the good news is, my throat doesn't hurt at all so I probably don't have strep. But I do have a hell of a cold. And after an entire day of blowing my nose into work-bathroom-paper towels, my nose is red and raw. Shit hurts. On the way home, I decided to stop and get some proper Kleenex. And I found the best Kleenex ever -- Puff's. I got the kind with lotion in them. Not only do they not hurt, but they have reversed the pain I've spent the day accumulating. I'd go so far as to say blowing my nose on them feels good. I'm so happy that I decided to blog with the sole intention of product placement.

So everyone with this bug that's going around, go out and buy yourself some Puff's Plus. Because a nose in need deserves Puff's indeed.

Just a little note to let you all know that my brother in Houston, Stephen and his wife Rachel just gave birth to their second child today. His name is Will and he is perfectly healthy and happy. I haven't gotten to see a picture of him yet because my brother is up at the hospital but that should be coming shortly. I'll update when I get that.

I would go down to Houston this weekend to see Will and help out with Kaylyn, but I seem to have contracted the streptococcus bacteria. I'm not positive that I have it, but everyone at work is sick right now. Some douchebag, knowing he had strep throat, came to work anyway so he wouldn't have to use his sick days, and now I think we all have it. My throat is killing me. Fucking douche. People, if you get a highly communicable disease, just work from home. Derrrr.

My first nephew. I'm so excited.

Have you ever been cow tipping? Have you? No? Know somebody who has? I'll bet you do. That's because cow tipping is a myth, an urban legend ... or would that be rural legend? Anyway, let me tell you why I'm even bothering to tell you this.

Today at work, I used the phrase, "That's about as productive as snipe hunting." (For those of you never molested in the boy scouts, snipe hunting is a wild goose chase at night in the woods looking for some bird-like creature that doesn't exist.) After I said that, Trey agreed, "Heh, yeah, or cow tipping." *Cue record scratch followed by tires screeching* Whaaaa? What the hell did he mean by that? Cow tipping happens all the time in the country. I know someone who knows someone who's gone. When I didn't immediately believe him, we had to google it. Check this out.

First off, cows have very acute senses of both smell and hearing. They are skittish animals that sleep lightly, and always with their noses into the wind. Cows don't all sleep at the same time. Some cows are always awake keeping an eye on the closely grouped herd. Sneaking up on a cow, even if it were sleeping, is all but impossible. But let's assume you somehow managed to shimmy up next to a dozing cow. Cows weigh up to 2,000 lbs when fully grown. Do you honestly believe you could push one over? Improbable. That is if you even manage to try before it runs away or you're gored by a jealous bull. Lastly, and perhaps the most convincing fact -- cows sleep laying down. Think about it.

I'm not going to call you all fucktards though, because I certainly thought cow tipping was real. In all honesty, I never thought about it much. You always hear about it and see it in Tommy Boy, but the fact is, it doesn't happen, and hasn't ever happened. One guy at work claimed to have pushed a cow over before until I presented him with the evidence and he eventually admitted perhaps he was too drunk to remember all of the details. Schyeah, perhaps. I asked a few of my friends if they knew that cow tipping wasn't real and none of them did, so I wanted to share it with you so you won't sound stupid at the next hoe-down or rodeo. And I made this picture to help you remember:

Apparently these cows know how to use semi-colons ... and puns. I helped you out!

In other news, my brother's wife is in the hospital in labor. I will have a nephew by tomorrow. Yippee!

I think one of the easiest and most efficient methods I have for determining who my friends will be resides in the bathroom. If I meet someone new and go to use their bathroom and there is an empty beer can or bottle in the bathroom trashcan, it's a pretty sure bet that we're gonna get along finejustfine. I woke up this morning to find this Kerrs Lat can in my bathroom trashcan and it gave me a warm and fuzzy feeling because I wanted to be friends with myself. Even though, I have my suspicions that my most sabulous friend put it there instead of me. But still.

Last night I was layin around drinkin beer after a hard day at work. I had a case of Kerrs Lat and the History Channel and couldn't have been happier. Then I got a text message from my new friend who works at a bar near me. I'm avoiding names to protect the guilty. Only because I'm dying to tell you that I went to go keep him company while business was slow and started drinking. Brett Sabulous texted me shortly thereafter saying he was bored so he joined me. We sat and drank for a few hours, probably had a tab of around 70 dollars, and walked out without paying a dime. So fucking awesome. But I also didn't tip so I told my friend I'd buy him dinner next time he was around and hungry. Gotta love friends behind bars.

I was really drinking so much in an effort to produce a really raging headache so I could spend all day in bed in my newly darkened bedroom. It worked. And now, ladies and gentlement, I present to you, a new picture of my bedroom -- at 3 o'fuckin'clock in the damn afternoon. It is so awesome. Not exactly black, but close enough. It has been so nice -- dark and cool. I have my suspicions that this is going to save me a hell of a lot on air conditioning bills. But seriously, folks, I have a splitting headache. I gotta go back into my cave.

I finally did it. I've waited for 2 full years and the other day, I just decided to do it. I'm speaking, of course, about curtains for my bedroom. I was really daunted by the task of keeping my vertical blinds up. I could take them down, but then I'd have to store them and I have nowhere to store them. And to cover them means curtain rod extenders and screwing into studs, and I know nothing about any of that. So I came up with an idea. Instead of big beautiful curtains, I got blackout fabric. It's thin, it's light, and it blocks 100% of the light. I measured each window, cut out a piece of fabric that fit it perfectly, folded the top over, put a few grommets in it and hung it on nails. I can take them down, put them up, fold them in half to get some heat in the winter -- you name it. From the outside it looks all white, just like the vertical blinds, and from the inside, all you see is the vertical blinds, just like the vertical blinds. I couldn't be happier with myself. I have had a string of successful projects. I hope it doesn't end. I can't wait to be hungover this weekend and spend allllll fucking day in bed.

Speaking of bed ... my sleeping is much better. I have been on time to work 3 of the 4 days this week. That's unheard of. I even started showering in the morning instead of at night because I have so much extra time. I was pretty ecstatic. That, sadly and predictably, has faded. I could feel myself building up a sleep debt as each day went by and this morning I finally had to pay it back. I was one hour late to work. Today, coincidentally, was also the day I got the results of my take-home sleep test. I no longer stop breathing 70-90 times an hour. Now it's 22. 22 is the magick number. The lady from the doctor's office asked me how I'd been feeling and I said, "Much better, but not great." And she said, "Oh, how funny. I was just about to say your test results look much better, but not great." At least I'm no longer severe and am now considered moderate. It's looking like the tonsil are going to come out. I'm shying away from it, but I know that I'll eventually do it. I'll keep you all posted.

I bought a pumpkin today. It was an impulse buy. All I wanted were the seeds. I tossed them with butter and salt and roasted them in the oven. They're delicious. My culinary skill grows little by little every day. I can add that to the list with roasted chicken and blueberry pancakes. Rawk.

Have you ever heard of the mosquito frequency? It's this thing that businesses are using to cut down on teenagers loitering outside. It emits a sound at around 17kHz. Apparently teenagers can hear it and it annoys the fuck out of them, but adults cannot hear it. Trey told me about it at work today so we googled it. I found an MP3 of the sound and hit play. It was maddening. Trey accused me of not really hitting play. He couldn't fuckin' hear it! It didn't take long for everyone 25 and under in my immediate area to come over and ask what the hell the sound was. Then Trey believed me it was real. Which is funny because I'm the one that didn't believe him it existed. We gathered up all the old people around us and not one of them could hear it. One guy put it as his ring tone on his cell phone. Apparently teenagers are also using it to their advantage to allow their cell phones to ring during class without the teacher hearing it. I thought it was fascinating enough to share it with you all. CLICK HERE to listen to the most annoying sound in the world. And tell me if you can hear it.

Methinks it's time for me to go to bed. Gotta stick with the sleep rules now that they're slightly effective. Night, sluts.

It's time for another of those very, very rare treats... a drunken SideshoViD.com update! I just spent the most lovely evening with Daniel. We started out with dinner at Antonio's. I fucking love Antonio's. Not only do they know how to make my martini (very, very, very, very, very dirty with just a *splash* of vermouth (I've since given up efforts to define wet or dry)) but they have the best food ever. Mmmm carpaccio.

Anyway, tonight was another night of the continuing Oktoberfest here in Äddison! I accidentally bought too many tickets (Oktoberfest currency) so we had to chug beers the entire time to avoid wasting tickets. When we left I wanted more beer so I told Daniel we could go to the beer store and pick some up. He assured me that midnight was the latest you could buy. But I was SURE it was 1am on a Saturday. I called Ryan Short to confirm this and he told me that it was indeed midnight.

On the way to the car we passed by our Addison! Circle friend, Dave, who told us that it was 11pm. We both knew that there was no way that was true. I was so sure it was 1am that I told Daniel drinks were on me at any bar in town if I was wrong.

Well long story short (which is pointless to say after you've already told the long story) I was right. You can buy beer until 1am on a Saturday in Texas. And that, my friends, is my public service announcement to you. So hurry, you still have five minutes! Later, bitches!

I am back in Addison! once again. I have managed to finagle a way out of going back to Seattle, at least for the immediate future. I wouldn't be half surprised if I spent at least one more week there. And that's okay. I don't mind occasional travel, it's just this trickery and moving of one's permanent residence that rubs me raw.

So anyway, you know how I'm like full of million-dollar ideas? I've been tossing this one around for a while and I finally figured it out. There hasn't been one plane ride in the recent future that I've not been near a screaming child. Why so many children commute between Seattle and Dallas I will never know. And I must reiterate to you parents, no one thinks your child is cute but you. Don't give me a chuckle and a shake of the head when your deformed looking twins shit their pants on descent and I have to smell it for 30 minutes. That's when I came up with my new airline. Ladies and gentiles, I present to you -- 21+ Airlines!

Just imagine the possibilities. Business travelers wouldn't have to put with with white trash parents that overcrowd the overhead bins with their strollers and rockers. You could actually sleep on the way home after a long week in another city. Boarding and unboarding of the plane would be quick and painless. Yes, 21+ Airlines is a fantastic idea. It might even be a cabin full of first class. And there is a two drink minimum. I'm going to be so fucking rich.

On my flight to L.A. (for my layover, those bastards) I was sitting next to a mother and her 5 year old daughter. The daughter would not stop screaming, kicking the chair in front of her, and crying because her ears were popping. And in between that she was overly excited because she was on her way to Disneyland. She told everyone on the plane she was going. She screeched to her dad a few rows up, "Thanks for taking me to Disneyland, daddy!" All would have been cute in the proper context ... say, a preschool. Or a playground. But on a plane, annoying. So I tried to sleep through the whole flight and when we landed, she siezed the opportunity to tell me she was going to Disneyland. And I said, "Really? Hmm, I don't think it's open this time of year." And the mom laughed, hit me, and said, "Oh, COME ON." But I don't even think the little girl heard me so we had a good laugh over it.

I brought the SkyMall magazine home with me from the plane. I want to order just about everything in there. I think I'm going to finally get some houseplants and then buy an automatic waterer so they might actually stay alive. And I want a hydroponic herb grower. And a gentle wake alarm clock. And a massage chair. And damn, I'm lucky I have no money otherwise it'd be gone.

I think first on my to-do list is to get my windows taken care of. I can't take that sun in my bedroom anymore. It won't be cheap but I think if I just get some heavy fabric, fold it to make it look kind of like vertical blinds, and just nail it to the wall behind the vertical blinds, no one will see it from the inside and no one will notice it from the outside. Unfortunately there's some "rule" against aluminum foil. Jerks.

I felt obliged to update right away because my brother said he was going to remove me from his Favorites list on account that I don't update much lately. I want you all to know that I am not going gentle into that good night, I've just been out of town so fucking much. So bear with me and keep coming back for more.

In 30 minutes I am leaving for the airport to fly back to Seattle. I will spend the week there returning on Friday. Then my company expects that I will board a plane again the following Monday and stay through the next Friday. In fact, they expect that I will continue to do this for the next 2 months. In reality, I will spend my free time in Seattle surfing Monster.com to find a new job.

They wanted me to fly out this Monday but I refused. I don't know if it's silly or not but I just won't fly on September 11. Especially not for work to somewhere I don't want to go. So they were pissy about that. They told me the arrangements couldn't be changed. I told them I would be in the office in Dallas on Monday morning if they wanted to contact me regarding future travel. They had no choice but to cave.

There were some emails sent back and forth regarding my performance in Seattle the last time I was there. I was basically trying to get out of going back, and they were trying to pin it all on me -- perfectly understandable. However, I'm going in swinging this time. It's no longer their time. It's my time. I have my own laundry list of items I would like to address. If at any time they refuse to take my advice that they are paying for, that item will be crossed off and may not be brought up again. When the list is finished, I am gone. I'm just so glad that they pissed me off before I came, because now I have no qualms laying down the law.

In other news, Daniel, his sister, and I all went to the Goo Goo Dolls/Counting Crows concert last night. It was too much fun. The show was great. We didn't stay through the entire concert because Daniel's sister claimed to have never heard of Counting Crows so we left early through their set. But I got to hear Omaha, Big Yellow Taxi, and Colorblind. Those are three of my favorite songs so I was satisfied.

Not sure what else to report really. I'll update from Seattle if I get bored but I already have plans to hang out with Philip and Robin some more and expense our good times. Grumble, grumble. Ugh, czech you all on the flip side.

g*d, I have been dreading this post. You know how you just have too many stories to tell and then you don't tell them and they pile up to the point where you really would just rather let them go by the wayside? Well, no, none of you understand. All of your blogs died after a few months. Trust me, though, it's rough.

I've been in Seattle for over a week now. All in all I'm liking the city. I don't like the way people drive here though. They take the speed limit as some kind of "limit" for your "speed" instead of a starting point for negotiation that you automatically add 5mph to... y'know, like normal people. It's fucking annoying. The bigass van they gave me to tool around in more than justifies any kind of driving I feel like doing.

On Tuesday, I made some friends. For some reason I never have any trouble making friends when I'm living in a foreign city. I guess I'm just that fun, outgoing, and internet savvy. Their names are Phillip and Robin and they're my new SBFF. They live up on Capital Hill, which is a literal fucking hill that I have marched up and down countless times in the past week. It's been worth it though because we always have fun when I get to the top. They have this cat. Oh man, I have to tell you about this cat. It is half cat, half bobcat, and it's obvious in its markings and in the face that this is the case. He also has short ears like a bobcat. What they tell me is that a bobcat is the only feline other than a domesticated cat that can successfully mate with a domesticated cat. However, the babies are usually so retarded that they don't even make it full term. Well this cat beat the odds. His name is Webol. They calls him that because he wobbles when he walks. He looks like he's severely intoxicated when he walks. It is so damn cute. If he wants you to scratch his head, you have to use two hands -- one to stabilize him, and one to pet him. I'm not an animal person, but I like this cat.

So I've pretty much spent the week working some, and then meeting Phillip and Rob, or one or the other, for food and shopping and drinks. We went out pretty hard this weekend. Another city's gay clubs under my belt ... maybe that's not a good way to describe my collection of gay clubs. Anywho.

I am so ready to come home. I miss Daniel and the stoop and Coors Light and Mexican food and Whataburger and my couch and my TV and my bed and Salmie and J's. Good thing I'll be home just in time for Kaboomerang (what I was calling Kaboomtwon, but I'll conceed their name is better). Friday can't come soon enough. I've had fun here, but I want to come home. ARG. I'm going to be coming back to Seattle a lot.

I'm on the phone so this post is over.

Where to begin? I guess, first, I should mention that I'm reaching out to you all from a two-story Starbucks in Seattle, WA. Not three days after I returned home from my DC/NYC vacation, I boarded a plane for a four-hour flight to the great northwest.

When I was sitting in the terminal waiting for my flight, I noticed a particularly ill-behaved toddler screaming his head off. I just knew he would be sitting near me. And I was right. This little fucker was directly across the aisle from me ... and he did not shut the fuck up the entire flight. He was screaming for the sake of screaming. Now here's what really bothers me. His mother catches my glare, smiles, chuckles, shakes her head ... like she's expecting me to be the same, like, "Eh! What'reyagonnado?!" and ruffle the kid's hair. I'll tell you what you should do. You should smack that kid so fucking hard that the next time he ever thinks about screaming on a crowded airplane, the resulting Pavlovian headache is crippling enough to quell that impulse. Good lord, people, it's bad enough you decided to breed, then decided to do a poor job in raising your children, but at least have the foresight not to bring them in public. No one thinks your kid is cute but you.

Except my nieces. They're all adorable.

So Seattle kinda sucks. The weather is pretty kickass, but I'm bored out of my gourd. I don't know anyone here and my room doesn't have internet access until I move hotels on Thursday. I really just want to be home, but that won't happen until September 1. Somebody call the whambulance.

My trip to DC was spectacular. Daniel and I got along famously, something that had mildly concerned me before our departure. While we spend nearly every hour outside of school and work together, that doesn't always give you a good indication of how you'll handle 24/7 with a person. But it was not even an issue. We spent every night in DC gay bar hopping. We got to meet up with Mr. Kenderdine and my dear friend JonSteed. DC is a pretty cool city, but it's missing that essential pretentious attitude that makes going out really fun. Nobody dresses up. They wear flip-flops and cameo shorts and sleeveless Ts out the bar. What's the fun in that? Daniel and I had to get all fancied up and go out with our sunglasses on to show em how we do. Daniel's dad had a nice apartment in Dupont Circle with a huge terrace. The terrace was surrounded on three sides by a tall brick wall, and the fourth side was a rod iron fence. So every night when we were smashed and getting home, we'd climb the rod iron fence to sit on top of the brick wall and smoke cigarettes. Every single night one of us got hurt. Daniel tore his foot open. I have a puncture wound on each knee. You'd think we would learn our lesson after a few nights, but we managed to avoid any lessons learned.

New York was a b-last. I still don't like the city, but I definitely like the time I had there. We stayed with Daniel's friend David (so bear with me during this story, I'm not speaking in the third person). David showed us as much as he could in the short weekend we were there. We went to some good bars, but they were all so fucking packed. I can't imagine paying 8 times as much for an apartment 1/4 the size just to spend every night packed into bars so tightly that it's hard to even drink. And if you go to New York, make sure you take a lot of cash. IF places even took credit cards, they all had minimums. 5 dollars at most stores, 50 at some bars, and one bar even said they wouldn't swipe my card more than once when I told them to just run it. I suppose if you're marking up alcohol 800% customer service isn't at the forefront of your concerns. But like I said, we still managed to have a blast. One day we went on a Project Runway tour of the city. We went to Bryant Park, and Parsons New School for Design, and the Red Lobster that Santino made fun of Tim Gunn and Andre about. We went to Mood, the fabric store they always shop at and had a fabric scavenger hunt. We managed to find 3 of the fabrics that they've used on the show this season. Too exciting. We also went to the flagship Macy's and they had a window display with all of the winning outfits so far this season. It was fun to look at them up close. By far one of my favorite parts of the vacation. The other day we just kind of strolled around Central Park. Thank you thank you thank you to our most gracious host and newest Sidesho-Viewer, David. Can't wait to see you again soon!

We did so much walking on our trip. I really felt like my legs got a good workout, since they haven't had any recently. We also took a train from DC to NYC. That was a first for me. I like the train. The train is kind of like what I assume airplanes would be like if there weren't assholes trying to blow them up all the time. You just kind of get on where you need to get on and then get off when you need to get off. It just made a lot of sense to me.

I have to apologize for the length of this blog. I had a lot to say and nothing else to do in this fucking city. I'm bored. If anybody knows somebody who lives in Seattle, or knows somebody who knows somebody PLEASE get in contact with me. I would kill for some company. Alright, I'll update more when I have internet in my room. Later, bitches.

I'm off tomorrow for my week long vacation to Washington, D.C. and New York City with Daniel. I can't imagine that I'll have internet access readily available (or that Daniel will tolerate me updating my website when there are so many things to do). So this is my farewell to you all. I will update when I get home and let you know how it went. Laaaaaaater bitches!

I love Febreze. I love it. It's hard for me to imagine life before it. I have nearly every product they produce. I use "linen & sky" for my fabrics and "citrus & light" for my air effects. I just recently freshened up my pillows and blankets in my living room, which is really what spawned this whole blog. I'm nursing a healthy hangover and I've pretty much been wrapped up on the couch since I passed out here last night.

The only thing that bothers me about Febreze is their advertising. It's fucking ridiculous. NOBODY buys Febreze to spray on the carpet as they pick up toys. And housewives don't use it to freshen up jackets in the closet. What is it used for? I would estimate around 90% of Febreze's annual sales are to teenagers who smoke. Seriously. How many friends did you have in high school that kept a bottle of it in their back seat so they could hose down the car's interior after a night of cruising around smoking cigarettes? What they ought to show in their commercials is 4 kids sitting in the basement smoking weed from a hookah when their parents get home early, and as three of them race to disassemble and hide the evidence, the other one gets this sideways glacing smirk on his face and grabs the Febreze and starts spraying it everywhere. And then the parents come in and say, "We're home! The house looks great." And after the parents walk out, the kids all high five and then eat sour cream and onion potato chips and laugh.

I'm even willing to let Febreze have that idea for free. They can even have this, too -- the new print ad I just created for them. If you are the CEO of Febreze and want to hire me, please leave a comment. If you want to sue me for copyright infringement, then don't. Cheers!

Any of you that have been to my residence in the past seven or so years have probably had the good fortune of witnessing the most beautiful coffee table ever created. It started out as a normal coffee table donated to my dorm room by a friend of my mother. One freshman year later and the facade was horribly damaged and the finish nearly entirely removed by spilt Everclear. I knew something had to be done, so I enlisted the help of my very artistic and talented friend, JennyCole, and soon ended up with this...

It's beautiful. It's creative. I love it. HOWever, it does not exactly fit in with the color palatte of my apartment. I had considered the whole space/ocean/mountain/sky theme for my living room, but instead went with tan and red. Considering Ryan Short and I are someday going to open up Tan & Red Designs together, it was a no-brainer. Anyway, the table holds a lot of sentimental value to me because Jenny and I did it together so long ago, so I knew I couldn't get rid of it. I thought maybe I could cut the legs off and use it as a wall hanging, but again, not really in keeping with my concept of "vintage Parisian." What to do? What to do indeed.

I've been using the table in my bedroom ever since the redesign. It sits directly behind the head of my bed and serves to hold my many extra pillows. You never know when you need to switch in the middle of the night to a softer or firmer or more Tempur-pedic pillow. It's a pillow table. A pillow-table? Solution! I present to each of you, the new and improved pillow-top coffee table. I used three blocks of foam to create each section and then covered the whole thing in faux leather vinyl stuff. After I stapled it down, I put a row of brass tacks between each cushion and then a border of brass tacks around the edge. I didn't think it would turn out showcase quality, but I was pleasantly surprised at how well I did. It isn't perfect, but it's perfect for me. I think it looks so cool. So fashion forward. (Sorry, I just got done watching Project Runway.) It was a fun little project, and one that I have a bruised thumb and several bleeding cuts to show for. You know me, my art hurts me so. I had to offer it up for your approval. As always, I'll entertain your comments as long as your comments entertain me.

My trip to Washington, D.C. and New York City is fast approaching. If you'd like to hang out be sure to let me know. I've already gotten word from JonSteed and Mr. Kenderdine. Hopefully, I'll be able to hook up with Topher in NYC. As an added bonus, the Monday after I get home from vacation, I will be jetting off to Seattle! You believe that? So if anybody is in the northwest, also let me know. Mr. Ryan Cloutier has already expressed an interest, but I should have puh-lenty of time up there, so I'd love some company. g*d, I'm such a jetsetter. I think it's bed time. Czech you sluts later!

Als ich mein kleines Diagramm heute morgen saege, beachtete ich, daß mein Punkt über Deutschland gewachsen war. Das bedeutet, daß ich mehr als zehn Besucher von dort gehabt habe. Da ich nur eine Person in Deutschland kenne, muß es mein Freund Marc sein, die meine Web site liest. So wollte ich erklären ihm hallo.

I'm takin over the world, baby. In fact, on BBC.com, they just had an article about the happiest countries in the world. Denmark came in first place. The U.S. was 23rd. This little map shows happiness in the world with red being the most happy and yellow being the most African. I took the liberty of overlaying my ClustrMap dots on top of this map. If you'll notice you'll see that the highest concentration of my dots are all over the happiest countries of the world. Coincidence? I think not. I am the light.

I made Daniel go out to Antonio's with me last night because I wanted to attempt to have a cocktail. I wasn't sure if the alcohol would sting my throat, or if alcohol would go right up my nose as water as been doing. (Did I already mention that the uvula is responsible for closing off the nasal passage when swallowing?) Well, I am happy to report that I had two "very, very dirty Absolut martinis," my drink of choice these days, and had absolut-ly no problems. I'm back, baby! Although, I did have a problem that maybe you alchys can help me with....

My first martini was delicious. And really, there's so much olive brine in my glass that it's hard to taste much of anything but that. However, I thought I detected an overbearingness of vermouth. When the waiter came to see if I wanted a refill I said, "Yes, oh and I think I forgot to mention, I also wanted it dry." And he said, "Oh, I'm sorry. So, more vermouth? You got it."

I was under the impression that a "dry martini" -- or a "dry vodka martini" for you purists -- would contain less vermouth than a regular martini. The research I've done online this morning suggests I'm correct. Wikipedia says, "A dry martini uses less dry vermouth than normal, perhaps a dash or lace of the glass." That makes no sense that a dry martini would use less dry vermouth, but it matches up with my original assumption. Am I right or am I retarded? What I want is a martini glass filled with equal parts of olive juice and ice cold vodka. How would one go about ordering this?

I was trying to take a picture of my tonsils for you. They are so swollen and painful that I ended up taking myself to the emergency room yesterday morning. I wish you could all see them but even the best picture that I was able to take is a high contrast, blurry, red mess. They really are disgusting though, trust me. Turns out, I have an infection, but since I'm already on penicillin to ward off bacterial infections, and there's nothing to be done for viral infections, they basically told me to go home. If the pain doesn't subside soon, I'm going to go absolutely crazy. I'm actually sick of being on pain medication. Never thought I'd say that.

As I was traipsing through the pictures on my camera, I found these that I took the night I invented ash tray liners. Daniel has these really cool ash trays. Anytime we smoke inside, Daniel has to dump them out into some aluminum foil (to avoid the old-cigaratte smell eminating from the trashcan) and wipe them out with Clorox wipes. We call it "the dump and the wipe." I was pretty sure I could find a way to eliminate the need with an aluminum foil disposable liner. It took me a while, and a bunch of prototypes, but I finally came up with an easily repeatable manufacturing process. It's patented, though. I just thought I'd show it to you because you might want to come up with your own patented process if you have ashtrays. It really does simplify life. Of course, you could always just make your ashtrays completely out of aluminum foil like I do. I'm getting pretty good at it.

KaboomTwon has been rescheduled for Labor Day weekend, September 3rd. (No, that wasn't a typo. I've decided to call our second KaboomTown party, KaboomTwon.) Daniel and I want to serve mojitos at this one. My fear isn't that they're hard or time consuming to make, it's that I can't come up with a good name for them. I assume we'll be having Grizzy Gooses and Kaboomcrown'n'cokes again, and "mojito" just doesn't stand up to that. So let's have a contest to come up with a Labor Day, firework, KaboomTwon inspired name for a Mojito. The winner might get an invitation to the partay.

And finally, let's close with our product placement of the day. Today we feature the simplehuman line of trash receptacles. These are, in my opinion, the finest trashcans money can buy. I've featured here, my 40 liter semi-round step-on can as well as Daniel's 30 liter pull-out model. He doesn't have a lot of floor space in his kitchen so it was the perfect model. They also make their own simplehuman trash bags that are custom fitted to our cans. They are the finest trash bags, way better than any Glad force flex or any shit like that. These are really thick and truly won't rip when you stuff them full. I love it. Is anybody listening to me?

This pain is bordering on unbearable. I've already burned through my first prescription for painkillers and my attempts to ration the lone refill aren't going so well. I pretty much have to take one every 4 hours. I haven't been able to stay a full day at work yet because of the pain. My throat is so swollen that my tonsils are nearly touching. It's probably infected because it's so bright red. If you're thinking about having a uvulectomy, I suggest you plan ahead and take a week off of work. The only relief I get is after a pill kicks in and I sleep for a few hours. If I sleep much more than that, it's really painful when I wake up, so I'm going to try to spend the weekend doing nothing but healing and sleeping.

It hurts so much to eat, well, swallow. I am supposed to drink ice water in small sips to try and take the swelling down, but the cold hurts on top of swallowing. I eat a lot at each meal to try and space them out as much as possible. I have a huge, gaping open wound directly in the path of all food and liquids on their path to my stomach. Since I don't have an IV, I don't know much choice but to keep doing it, but I dread the thought.

My wishlist hasn't turned out exactly like I thought it would. It was intended to help me plan far in advance for the purchases I wanted to make. Instead, it's become a grocery list for the past few days. Whenever I'm hurting, I find that spending large sums of money always brings a smile to my face. Today I got a couple new pillows and all new pillowcases for every pillow I have. It's not enough to just put one pillowcase per pillow though, because then sometimes the case folds back and you can see the pillow. Unacceptable, so we put two on each pillow. Not exactly cheap when you're dealing with DaMask Stripe sheets, which also happens to be the product placement for today. These sheets are so comfy and stylish. Pick your favorite color and then pick yourself up a set. I have the chocolate brown to match my ceiling and wall stripes and then I got red for the pillows that I keep on the couch. Rawk!

Oh, Daniel and I will be in Washington D.C. August 8th through the 16th with an excursion up to NYC the 11th through the 14th. Yes, I'm returning to New York despite my vow to never do that. I have a feeling this trip will be exponentially better than the last. Anyway, if you reside in either of these cities, let's plan a get-together. Til then!

Ding, dong, the witch is dead. Which old witch? My fucking uvula!

I went in for my post Pillar Procedure prognosis and they said I was healed up nicely. They mentioned how big my uvula is, I said I fucking hated it and wanted it gone, 60 seconds later it was over. Once again, I had to get numbed up which involves sucking on a foam popsicle soaked in syrupy medicine. Once again, I got injections in my soft palate. Then he took a laser and sliced my fucking uvula off. It was so wretched having that burning flesh smoke in my mouth and nose again. In fact, I've been trying to mask the flavor all day with popsicles. It's worth it though, because that fucker is gone. Mwahahaha.

Since I wasn't planning on having any surgery, I wasn't planning on blogging, so now I have to fill in some more info. I was planning on doing some more product placements, so we'll proceed with that. FridgeTape, ya'll. This shit kicks ass. It's almost as thin as normal tape, but it's magnetic. You can put it on the back of pictures when you put them on the Fridge. It has helped me get rid of all of my ugly ass old magnets and allow you to see the entire picture. I couldn't live without it. Sorry there's not much more to say about that, it's pretty fucking self-explanatory, so go buy some.

I should start charging money for advertising that sweet. Aaaanywho, as you can well imagine, I got pain pills today, so it's time for me to go abuse prescription drugs and take an 8 hour nap. Laaaaaaaaate.

Last week, our dear friend, Tuna, passed away. His health had steadily declined for a couple weeks prior to that. I did everything I could -- a heater, some aquarium salt for freshwater fish, medicine -- but it wasn't enough. He was just old. I'll miss him. He was a good friend.

Daniel and Kelly got me a new fish for my birthday. I was kind of upset about it at first and didn't really want it. I didn't want to replace Tuna; didn't want some other fish I didn't even know swimming in his tank, eating his food, sleeping in his reeds. But tonight I had a change of heart. I've decided to adopt Salmie as a part of my family. I rearranged the tank so it looks nothing like Tuna's and put Salmie in there tonight. Daniel and Kelly named him Salmon but I don't really want to call him that, so I changed it to Salmie (pronounced "Sammy"). So far he seems okay; he looks happy anyway. He keeps attacking his reflection which is kind of funny. We'll see what happens, but I think I like him now.

I bought twelve chrome tipped bulbs. I thought that I wanted them for my overhead lighting to soften it up. I read on the internet that you should dim your overhead lighting until it isn't bright enough to light the room. Then you add lamps and spotlights and whatnot until you get it just right. Unfortunately, these bulbs just aren't quite right for me. They don't really work in the fan fixture that I have. I have one in my lamp that looks alright. Anyway, I bought twelve off the internet because I couldn't find them in any stores, so this is me asking all of you if you would like to try them out in your house. If you like them you can have them. Just lemme know.

It is well past time for me to start drinking. Justin came to town and I went to dinner with him in the Land of Gar. It was a pretty funny dinner but that story will have to wait. I've got 24 friends waiting on me in the fridge. Peace out, sluts.

So Thursday was my birthday. I was pretty vigilant with my vow after last year's debacle to not make a big deal about it. Thanks to everyone who remembered and sent me a message or called. I worked on my birthday but took this Friday off because I was pretty sure I was gonna be drunk.

I decided that all I really wanted to do was sit on the TV and watch some beers. So when I got home from work, I tidied up a bit, cooked a frozen pizza and got down to drinking. Brett Sabulous had kept his plans tentative just in case I was doing something, and decided to come join me in my quest. So we sat on the TV together and watched a lot of beers. When Daniel got home, we moved the party down there and continued drinking. It was so much fun. So low key. So much more my speed.

Daniel got me a really nice Bulova wall clock for over my TV. That brings my clock total to 6 now. That's almost one clock per 100 square feet of my apartment. I am obsessed with knowing what time it is. This is the only nice clock I have though. It looks pretty smart over my new TV stand. I need to hang it just a smidge higher but I couldn't reach, so it's temporary now. Brett got me a gift certificate to Face, this men's salon in uptown. I'd never heard of it but their menu was quite impressive. I'm going to go get a real shave. I have ALWAYS wanted to do that. Hot towels, hot lathers, straight bladed razors. Omg, I can't wait. My parents got me a month of yoga. I really want to try out this place called Dahn Yoga over on Beltline. I don't know what brain respiration is but I'm soon going to find out.

So everything went just swimmingly this year. Unfortunately, speaking of swimmingly, Tuna is in bad shape. He's been really lethargic lately, so this morning I got online and researched his condition. He is showing every symptom of disease. I am going to get a heater for his tank since the temperature should be between 74 and 78 degress Fahrenheit, and if you've ever been to my refrigerated apartment, you know it's always colder than that. I'm about to quarantine him, clean his tank, and see if we can't revive him. But he's 2 years and 3 months old now, so I'm not sure how much longer he'll be with us. I'll keep you updated on his condition. Remember him in your prayers to Chuck Norris. Peace out, have-nots.

Our Kaboomtown party was such a hit! You'll see why I say that shortly.

First off, Kaboomcrown'ncokes are so delicious. I was able to convince most of the guests to scream "KABOOM!" when they ladled an ice cream scoop full of cherries into their drinks. That bottle of Crown lasted all of like 30 minutes. We switched to Grizzy Gooses (I wondered if the plural was Grizzy Geese, but it's not) soon after. When the Grey Goose was gone, we switched to Grabsoluts. That makes no sense since the "Gr" came from "Grey" but oh well. Absolizzy sounds stupid. The champagne flowed and the beer went way faster than expected. Smart move on my part getting plastic bottles. You'll see why I say that shortly.

When it got dark we all went to the roof of the garage. It was solid people. Solid drunk people. It was pouring rain. All the drunk people were dancing and hootin' 'n hollerin' in the rain. Yours truly included. Someone had a watermelon full of liquor that they were dispensing shots from. When that ran out, they filled it up with whatever beer was available. Too much fun. Brett Sabulous and I screamed, "KABOOM!" at the fireworks repeatedly. Repeatedly. Since it was pouring rain, they only shot off about a third of the planned fireworks, I'm estimating. There was no grand finale like I'm sure they had planned. I felt bad for the people that had probably planned the whole thing, it was basically ruined, but still totally rad. I love fireworks because when I was little my parents used to tell me that they were for my birthday.

After much merry making on the roof, we went back downstairs. I was pretty drunk and happy so some of the details escape me, but things got ugly. You'll see why I say that now. Without using any names or daring to understand the provocation, several fights broke out. Not like fun friendly fights. Like mean trying-to-hurt-each-other fights. I think back to like when Todd and DAvid would fight and I'd sit back and laaaauuuugh. Because even though they were throwing real punches and causing real bruises, you just knew that deep down inside they weren't going to hurt each other. It's like watching brothers fight. Not so that night. They were out for blood. And your local good Samaritan, Sidesho, was trying to stop it. Several mislanded punches later, several concrete tackles later, several wrestling matches and alpha male chest thrusts later, it was finally disolved, but not before our party was basically ruined. I was left with a few minor scraps and scabs, bruises all over both arms from someone fighting to escape my grip, a severely fucked up shoulder, two knees that don't take much to fuck up -- but falling on them on concrete did the trick -- a new trick ankle, and a sore nose. Good times, good times.

I was pretty upset at the time. By "upset" I mean "really drunk and upset" which always makes things worse. I took quite a bit of consoling, not because I was hurt, but because I had to watch people I cared about trying to draw blood from each other. I'm a delicate boy, I can't handle that shit. But now that's it been a couple of days, looking back it was rather exhilarating. I've never even been near a fight, and frankly have always been terrified of the proposition, but now I don't think it would be that bad. I mean, no one was fighting me, I was just in the way, but still, it doesn't hurt THAT bad to get hit. So watch the fuck out, everyone, this is your warning. I'm looking for a reason now. I WISH some mother fucker be sittin in my seat.

So that was my Kaboomtown. The 4th was much more serene consisting of dinner at Daniel's parents' house and a drive home where we could see at least 3 fireworks shows going on at all times. This is so my favorite holiday. It's really cool too because it celebrates our country's independence; it's not just some Hallmark-invented holiday like Valentine's Day or easter. So hope everyone else had a wonderful (and tad safer) holiday. Czech you skillets on the flip side.

I feel the need to share with you all a couple of products that I can't live without. I really wish I was better about letting you know of all of my purchases, but it always slips my mind. So hopefully, this won't be the last installment of free advertising here on SideshoViD.com.

The first one I think everyone should own is Plink. Plink your sink! These are little yellow balls that could easily be mistaken for lemon sours. When I grind up the fatty remains of eight chicken breasts and leave the remnants in the blades of my garbage disposal for a week, I'm just asking for an unmistakable stench. I used to rely on handfuls of ice cubes and lemon halves for salvation, but now I have something even better. One of these little Plinks not only completely removes the odor, but replaces it with the most refreshing lemon scent. I only wish they made them in orange flavor to match my orange Fantastik, orange Febreze Air Deodorizer, and orange Pledge. It's citrus, though, so it works. Buy some.

Next, we have Bear Naked. I was first introduced to the Bear Naked product line by watching their story on the Food Network. It was truly inspiring. I went to Whole Foods (the only place I know of where you can buy the stuff) and tried it. Incredible. The cereal is unbeatable as a breakfast, or any meal of the day for that matter, but it's also good just dry out of the bag for a quick snack. I recently tried their all natural oatmeal and I can no longer eat that Quaker shit. Bear Naked is just so much better. It's not mushy. It's grainy and nutty and so fucking good. I must impel you all to try it.

That's all the product placement I have for today. The only other thing I have to advertise is our July 3rd Kaboomtown Party here in the ol' Addison! Circle. Daniel and I are hosting a little get together, which will probably be much like every other night of our lives, except with fireworks! We have two drinks planned. Grizzy Goose is first on the menu -- a mixture of Izzy Natural Soda (ah, fuck, I just realized I could totally advertise that... try it too) and Grey Goose vodka. I know, I know, I only drink Effen, but it's too hard to come up with a good name on that. Second are our Kaboomcrown'ncokes. It's just like a Crown and Coke except we're gonna put real cherries in them. Kaboom! Oh yeah, also, every time you make one you have to scream, "KABOOM!" when you drop the cherries in. Loves it.

Let me know if you want to come join us and I just might let you. Later, have-nots!

I'm really diggin' this ClustrMaps thing I have going on. I want to thank Joseph for emailing me about it. Looks like the Sidesho is a lot more popular on the east coast than the west. Should I mold my brand of humor to benefit my already strong demographic? You know, make jokes about the Atlantic ocean n stuff. Or maybe I should be focusing on trying to bring up the readership in states I don't already have an uncompromising strong-hold on. Perhaps I'll start with Utah. Haha, fucking Mormons. They're all insane, did you know that? It's like the perfect blend of xristianity and Scientology. They think jebus will fly them a spaceship and drop their asses off on their own planet where they'll be free to engage in secret handshakes and secret tacky underwear without being under the watchful eye of rational people. joey smith bless 'em, they're all fucking mad!

Well that was tangential. My hungover posts tend to be a bit more random than the sober ones. My brother's wife's brother was supposed to come get my old couch, oh, 6 weeks ago. I was going to donate it but as a personal favor to him, I held onto it. It's totally cluttering my apartment. He couldn't find a truck so I gave him 3 weeks to do so, after which my brother's wife had to go to the hospital for a bit and her brother went to Houston to help out. So then I felt bad and had to give him an extension on picking it up. But that was like 3 weeks ago, so I've had this shit for a WHILE. On Thursday, the Salvation Army is coming by to get it. I can't wait to get my entryway back.

Went out on the yacht again on Thursday. I left work early and met the troops. They pulled into port to pick me up and were just gonna swing by the dock, I'd make a running leap onto the boat and we'd speed out of there. No need to park or any of that nonsense. So they pulled up, I jumped on and we sped off ... right into a sandbar. Luckily the lake was deserted, because we were fucking stuck. It was pretty funny but we couldn't laugh because Alexander was getting pissed. After about 20 minutes of revving the engines in reverse and kicking up a ton of dirt in the water, we finally got out on the lake. They had blown up a little 3-seater raft and were dragging it behind the boat. I rode it for a while. It was hella fun but I'm not much of a thrill seeker so I got back on the boat and let Kelly take my place. Next time we do that, I'm gonna go ahead and suggest we all have life vests on. As much as I'd hate a life vest tan, Jordan almost died. We hit this huge wave, Daniel threw up, and Jordan went limp, airborn, and under. It was scary and funny. He said he didn't remember falling out and woke up in the lake. Luckily he was okay. Not too much else happened -- oh, except that I can officially say I've been skinny dipping in Lake Lewisville. No details!

So I haven't worked out in like a month. Don't know why, I'm just lazy and can't get back into it. I was really concerned when I went the other day (isolated incident) that I would have gained back all that weight I worked so hard to lose. But I weighed myself ... and I lost three more pounds!!!1! Do you believe that shit? This "eating right" malarky must really work. g*d, I eat so much more than I used to. I usually have at least 6 meals a day and they're all packed with nutritional goodness. That makes a grand total of 21 pounds lost from the time I started eating right. I don't think you could have looked at me a few months ago and said "hey fatty mcfatfatfat fuckfat, lose some weight." Like I don't think I looked that fat, but fuck me, I look good now. I don't even think I weighed this little when I graduated college. Rawk.

Let's see, let's see, what else can I brag about. Oh! I think I might be an amazing cook. The other day I was in the grocery store and randomly decided to cook dinner for Daniel. I think all he ever eats is fast food junk food, and he's been having problems with his stomach so I thought a home cooked meal would be good for him. I roasted a g*ddamned chicken! Do you believe that shit? I like stuffed it with onions and celery and put a dry rub on it of salt, pepper, all spice, and cinnamon. And I baked it for 2 hours, and basted it every 20 minutes. It was so insane. I'm a masterbaster. It came out like perfect. Its the best chicken I've ever had. And on top of that, the whole bird was 6 dollars, and I got two very large dinner portions and a whole heaping plate of leftovers. I'm going to roast a bird once a week from now on. If we'd stop going out for oysters and wood fired lobster maybe I'd actually get a chance to eat some of my chicken delight.

I think that should be enough for now. I'm heading to my parents' house to watch World Cup Soccer with my brother Michael. He is in from California. His daughter Kelsey is THE cutest thing on Earth (perfectly tied with Kaylyn and Ann Marie). Then I get to have dinner with Miss Allison "Google" Hoffmann. What a great day. Oh and my sister called. She is having a boy! Two nephews coming soon! Later skillets.

Okay, I know I talk about my uvula wayyyy too much for comfort, but I just had to let you all know that it's grown again. I was trying to explain to my coworkers where exactly it was resting in my throat, so I drew this picture on my dry erase board at work. I was pretty proud of it, so I thought I'd share it with you all. I CANNOT get a decent picture of it with my digital camera, so drawings will have to suffice until I can get a willing photographer to help me out. It is absolutely resting directly on my gag reflex. Last night, I came so close to throwing up due entirely to the length of my uvula that I actually found myself hunched over the toilet fighting the impending liquid laugh. Some day... some day, I will cut this fucker out and be fucking done with it. I have to wait until July 18th before the doctor will do any more surgery. I don't snore at all anymore, but I'm still exhausted, so I'm hardly worried about my physical well being.

Sorry, I really thought I had another story lined up, but it turns out the drawing was it. Hope you liked it! I'm going to go to bed now to continue this life I like to call one long nightmare I can't seem to wake up from. Later, have-nots!

I finally finished painting my bedroom. I have never been so proud of myself for anything in my life. I think it looks so good, almost like an adult, put together bedroom. My bed floats in the middle of the room now. I still need a new end table, new lamps, new bed frame, new table, and new curtains, but the biggest portion of the work is done. It was really hard for me to get one good picture that showed it off, so I took a few. The fourth one is to show you that I did, indeed, repaint my router to match.

I also cut all my hair off and I'm growing a beard. This is a life makeover. Now if I could just stop chain smoking and skipping the gym. I was doing so well for a while there. I'll get back on it soon. I fell off of my diet somewhat due to my trip to Houston for Memorial Day weekend. It was totally worth it though. I went to visit my brother and help out with his impregnito wife and baby daughter. Kaylyn is the cutest thing, and now that she can talk, she is funny too. It was really nice to get to know her, and have her know who I am. About every 5 minutes she would ask, "Where's Uncle David?" if I wasn't in her immediate view. She'll be 2 in July. I can't believe she's getting so big so fast.

I also got to see Kevin. We drank a lot and played darts. I ended up losing after coming from way behind to take the lead. That g*d damn bullseye. I could not hit it. The rest of the nights I hung out with my brother. We saw X3. I thoroughly enjoyed it, although it wasn't the best X-Men movie, I didn't think. Still worth seeing though. One night we went to this place called Whiskey River. It was a totally open up barn type building with this wasted, barefoot guy playing guitar on stage. When we walked in he was berrating some paying customers that had asked him to please stop yelling and cussing into the microphone. It sent him into a tirade about being in the service industry. This guy was so bad, I can hardly explain it. His guitar was so out of tune that my brother noticed it. That's pretty bad.

There are a few distinct stereotypical guitar players. There's the "plays Dave at college parties" guitar player. There's the "pseudo lesbian Ani-wanna-be" guitar player. There's the "stuck-in-the-80s all I wanna do is wail ARE YOU READY TO ROOOOCK YOW!" guitar player. There's the "classically trained and snooty as hell because of it" guitar player. I like to consider myself a "only knows 3 songs and plays them repeatedly" guitar player. If you can think of any more, please feel free to share. Anyway, after one second of looking at the entertainment for the night, I remarked to my brother, "This guy LOVES Pearl Jam, I guarantee it." So we started yelling for him to play some Pearl Jam. The only song we could think of was Jeremy. He told us that he would play Jeremy because it was a great song, but never fucking did. He did, however, play some Pearl Jam, and as you would expect, he did it in his best Eddie Vetter impression voice. So fucking lame. When we left, my brother held down the horn from the time we got in the car until we left the parking lot to interrupt his show. Too damn funny.

I think that's all the news to report. Leave me some comments on how I have the best fucking bedroom in the world. Thaaaaaaaanks.

I just got my new Chuck Norris shirt in the mail. If you go to ChuckNorrisFacts.com you can order one too. Also, if you haven't been to ChuckNorrisFacts.com then you are an idiot and you need to go read all the facts immediately; they are riotous. The best part of ordering your shirt is you get to design it yourself. You can choose from like 30 slogans and icons and size, arrange, color and combine them however you please. I <3 Technology.

I went to the Richardson Wildflower Festival on Saturday. Don't get me wrong; I like wildflowers as much as the next guy, but the reason I went was to see my beloved, Lisa Loeb. She was fantastic. There are few things in life that make me smile more than hearing "Stay" performed live by Lisa. When she got done, Daniel, Jenny, Steven and I moved into the shade by the gate to smoke a cigarette and look for Lisa's sister, Debby, so we could yell at her that she rocks. She was on the reality show #1 Single with Lisa and she ... well ... rocks. It turned out to be a good vantage point because Lisa walked right by us as she was paraded to the autograph signing table. I yelled, "I love you Lisa!" and Daniel yelled, "Great show!" and she totally looked at us, smiled, said hi, and thanked us. Eat that, you idiots that waited in line!

Today, I got up early to go to my Pillar Procedure check up. I ran down to my car with about 20 minutes left to make my appointment in time. When I got to the garage, I saw that my left, rear tire was fucking flat. I have never had a flat tire in my life. I called my dad to ask what I should do. He suggested changing it. DERRRRR. And that DERRRRR is for me, not him, since I honestly hadn't thought of that. My dad taught me how to change a tire once when I was 15. I thought it was an absolute bore, but thank g*d he did that. I managed to change it myself, with many dramatic text messages to Daniel claiming I couldn't. I was pretty proud of myself. I made it to my appointment about an hour late, but it wasn't a problem. Everything is healing nicely. No uvula snipping until everything is completely healed. Doctor's orders. Damn. Best part of the day? Both my checkup and fixing my "screw"ed up tire were FREE! FREE I TELLS YA! Thanks National Tire and Battery.

UPDATE!!!!1! Holy shit, I can't believe I forgot to include, like, the whole reason I started blogging today. This one requires a little bit of a back story that some of you have probably already heard but I'll tell it again because it's the greatest story ever told. One night while I was studying in the MSC with Allison our freshman year, I got up to use the bathroom. Having forgotten that they locked the downstairs bathroom at 9pm every night, I was quite embarassed when I walked full speed into a locked door. Furtively glancing around to make sure no one saw, I ran upstairs to pee. On my way back down, it hit me like a ton of bricks. As I told Allison the story, I looked at her and said, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" and we quickly gathered our things and ran giggling to a hiding place near the bathroom. We made a crappy hand-made sign on the back of a flier that read, "DOOR NOT WORKING PROPERLY. PUSH HARD!!!" Only "HARD" was underlined like 8 times. Then we used some tape from another flier to affix it to the locked bathroom door. We hid behind the stairs leading into the cafeteria and waited. Guy after guy after guy after guy walked up, read the sign, and then proceeded to fight with the door for a few minutes. One Chinese dude took a flying leap at the door and hurt himself. Two frat boys sat there each taking turns screaming at each other, "DUDE! It says push HARD!" All the while, we sat not 10 feet away with tears streaming down our faces, fingers firmly pinching our noses closed and our other hand suffocating the hysterical laughter. It still goes down as one of the best nights of my life. So you can imagine how hard I laughed when I went to use the restroom at NTB and found this sign on the door. I didn't want to photoshop it so you'd know that it was a real picture, but it reads:

You can only imagine how many times I looked around to make sure two teenagers weren't perched within viewing distance laughing at me. Fucking punks.

Alright, look. I know why people do it. It's because I'm a bastard. I get it. Turnabout fair play blah blah blah. But look here to the right where I quote my little stabs at people's grammar and spelling. They're fucking hilarious. I take a typographical error within the context of the conversation and turn it into a joke. It's so different from what you people do to me.

I don't know how many times I have been having an IM conversation and I say some shit like, "I'm going to teh mall," and people will reply with, "TEH mall? What is TEH mall roflz!!!!1" Not funny. It's not that the comment in and of itself bothers me, but the fact that you are so fucking not funny. Correcting my spelling or my grammar or my word usage isn't cute, it's fucking obnoxious. People that do it are fucking obnoxious.

I'm not typing these things to you ever few days in some word processor with spell check. I write them in a format very similar to Notepad. I do this because as much as I write them in my head before I sit down, they always flow a little better and little differently when I type them out as fast as I possibly can. And that is unbelievably fast and usually with some sort of rythmn to the keys. I don't bother myself with spelling and grammar because it would be a detriment to the humor.

As dedicated as I am to being correct, and as much as I skim over the entries once before I post them, holy fucking shit, I occasionally make a mistake. Do you see how many words are on this fucking screen, how many entries I've typed in the past 3 years? What are the g*d damn odds that I would not know that stalactites aren't spelled the same as stalagmites. Or that a caveat isn't actually an exception to a rule, just a qualification or explanation of one. Give me a fucking break. And just be forewarned that if you find a mistake in this entry, it won't be the least bit amusing to point it out.

If you don't have something funny to say, don't say anything at all.

Our dear friend Kelly has canceled her Addison! Circle lease. In the wake of it, she told me I could have whatever I wanted out of her apartment to save her the trouble of moving out. So the other night a bunch of us let ourselves in and went on a treasure hunt.

It occured to me in there what a peculiar word "dibs" is. You know how if you take any word and say it outloud enough times it starts sounding stupid? Another good example is merge. Merge... merge... merge? Sounds wrong, don't it? After a good 30 minutes of walking around yelling, "DIBS! DIBS ON THE COUCH! DIBS ON THE MIRROR!" I couldn't let it go. I came home and googled the origins of dibs. The long of the short of it is, no one knows where it came from. People speculate it may have something to do with the ancient game of dibstone originally played with the knucklebones of sheep, but the evolution from that to laying an unbreakable claim on someone's trash can is beyond me. It's just one of those unsolved mysteries. Duh nuh nuh nuhnuh duh nuhnuh nuhnuh.

I am the proud owner of a new couch, a new tv stand, a couple new lamps, a new standing mirror, and some new DVDs. My apartment is a tad overcrowded at the moment, reminiscent of the summer I spent in my duplex on Medina. Medina RULES! Thank you to my most sabulous friend, Brett, who helped me move all the shit across the street. It was quite an ordeal. Well, not really, I'm just being dramatic. We will all miss having sober Kelly as our neighbor, but she'll live on in all the free shit I ganked from her with the spare key.

Dibs on the martini shaker!

Kelly went away for a while. When she returned, she brought with her a man named Alexander. Alexander has more money than you or I will ever see in 10 lifetimes. Aside from that little tid-bit, he's a really cool, laid back, generous guy. Him and Kelly get along really well. That said, I've had a few firsts as of late.

First, I broke the Sidesho-Land Speed Record. I'm not sure what it was before, probably about 100mph that one time Allison and I made it from College Station to Dallas in just over 2 hours. The new record is 150mph. Did I mention Alexander used to be a race car driver? He has some really awesome car, but I obviously don't remember what kind it is. The other night Daniel, Matt Cweech, his friend Sean, and I met up with Kelly and Alexander here in the circle. Afterwards, he took us for a spin down the Tollway. Treating lanes as if they were a mere suggestion, we weaved our way in and around traffic until we hit a top speed of just around 150mph. I was pretty scared, but it was such a rush.

Shortly thereafter, we were invited out to the boat. Yup, I broke the Sidesho-Water Speed Record. Can you believe that I've never been to Lake Lewisville? Or I hadn't, rather. Well, I have now and I must say the next time you get out that way, you simply must do it on a certified yacht. This thing had a little picnic table in the back, and a couch, and a bedroom, and a kitchen, and a bathroom, and it hauled ass too. It was so nice. He let me drive it a little bit even though I didn't know what the fuck I was doing. And when we were sitting out front on top of the boat, he would veer wildly trying to knock us off. I spent the whole day out there sipping on beers, chatting it up with Daniel, Hunter, Lauren, Matt Cweech, and of course, Kelly and Alexander. It was just a gorgeous day and way too much fun. I'm hoping we do that like every weekend.

I had to get those stories out there because I'm gonna have a different story to tell when I get home in a few hours. Daniel is about to take me down to see the doctor that does the Pillar Procedure. I'm getting that done as well as a turbinate cobilation (?). They're gonna stick foam pillars in my throat and shove a laser up my nose, essentially. Here's a link to that article Ryan Short wrote about me for the Dallas Voice. I don't think I ever shared it with you all. So wish me luck. It probably won't help me sleep, but it couldn't hurt. Ciao bellas.

My blog affects my life immensely. It can manifest in two ways. Either I alter my usual patterns hoping to generate a blog-worthy story, or the things that I've said on my website are read by people who then affect my life. That's why I do shit like ear candling and enrolling in the art institute. The other night, I ran into Ryan Short and he started hitting me because I said he always disagrees with me. Those are just a few examples of a constant whirlwind. SideshoViD.com is never far from my mind.

I tell you this, because I don't want you to think I've left you hanging. 90% of the day, I am writing blogs in my head. And I've written this one again, and again, and again, and again. If I write something happy-go-lucky, it will appear to others that I am flighty and disengaged. If I write something too honest, I'll betray my own self, and won't stand to entertain any of you, which is always one of my goals. I don't know what I'm really trying to say, just basically informing you that I'm going to just try to pick and choose humorous anecdotes from my day and highlight those, but I am, in no way, belittling anything that has happened recently.

I got a new noise machine for my bedroom -- The Sound Soother 50. It was really expensive, but it came with a remote control, I can plug my iPod into it and use it as a speaker, and the sounds are incredibly real. I've been sleeping with "downpour" a lot and I like to nap with "bamboo chimes." Another favorite of mine is "clothes dyer." There are a few questionable ones like "pasture" and "buggy ride," like who the fuck wants to fall asleep to cows mooing. You'd have to be a country-ass bumpkin. "Heartbeat" is also kinda creepy, but I think that's supposed to be good for babies. I just had to get some sort of background noise to block out anything ambient. My brain has started taking sounds it hears while I'm sleeping, creating a terrifying story to explain the sound, and overlaying it on top of my actual sights and sounds as I sleepwalk. Technically, they're not nightmares, since nightmares are types of dreams, dreams only occur during REM, and my brain does not go into REM. Their official name is night terrors. Hahaha. Fucking great.

I've stopped taking Provigil. While the doctor said that it had nothing to do with my heart rate, I found myself with a resting heart rate of 145bpm. Just to put that in perspective, it should be less than 80bpm ... the only reason your heart should beat 145 times per minute is if you have just sprinted a 5k. That was a concern for me so I stopped the Provigil. It's been hard, but I'm feuling my body now with complex carbohydrates and natural fructose to offset the ill effects of ideopathic hypersomnia (aka excessive sleepiness, but ideopathic hypersomnia sounds more medical). A high resting heart rate is known as tachycardia. Fuck me sideways, I knew I was broken-hearted, but I didn't know I had a broken heart.

I'm looking forward to several appointments with doctors in the following weeks. I'm probably going to be having lots of surgeries and procedures to aid me in my breathing, and then we can shift focus to addressing these K-alpha complex waves my brain produces for no reason. Yippee.

I hung out last night with my most sabulous friend, Brett. We had a lot of fun. He said his father still reads my website. He was concerned about me and had wanted to put a comment on my comment-less post a couple back. He also said he had left me a comment once but wouldn't ever tell Brett which one. It took me all of half a second to say, "I bet he was the one who left me that 'Stone Age to the Space Age and still no follow up on what bar was first' comment after Febrehabruarii." He just spoke with him and sure enough, I was right. I know my website way too well. Like I said, I am both it's unforgiving master, and it's unwitting slave.

Next week I am meeting three days with my new personal trainer. We've set up a program for me that should have me around 15% body fat before summer. I'm refocusing my negative, self-destructive energy as of late into a rather obsessive dedication to self-improvement. I've already lost 12 pounds, but that was mostly from an unintentional anorexia, but I was pleased that I didn't rebound at all. I'm viewing eating now, not as an enjoyable social experience, but as a necessity to feul my body. I have been eating SO well for the past few days and I already feel infinitely better. Just wait, people, I'll come out the other end of this better for it. I fucking guarantee.

Have a good week at work, and I'll be trying to find things to talk about throughout the week. Laaaaaaaaaaaate.

Happy easter, bitches!1!!!

Since tomorrow I have to post my picture of a crucified bunny rabbit, I thought I'd take the opportunity today to reach back into the vaults and post my easter story. Years and years ago I started The Conduit conspiracy theories newsletter. After 400 subscribers and 0 issues, it morphed into The Conduit online zine. After 0 subscribers and 0 issues, the only thing I have to show for about a decade of effort is the cover art and one article. I showed you all the cover art back in May of 2003 and now, for your reading pleasure, is the blasphemy that is my easter article.

Saturday, March 15, 2003
JESUS RISES FROM DEAD, SEES OWN SHADOW

Another year gone by, the world finds itself reflecting upon the life and death ... and then life again of its lord and saviour, jesus h. christ. Roughly 2000 years ago, news of jesus' physically and biologically law-defying rise from the dead caused waves amongst the uneducated populace of the ancient world. But the question that was on everyone's mind was not the who, what, when, where, or how ... but, did he or did he not see his shadow?

Town officials were overjoyed at the sight of the still groggy jesus' bed head peaking out the top of his tomb. They waited with bated breath to see if the no-longer-hibernating son of g*d would see his own shadow or emerge unawares. A delighted crowd of merry-makers cheered as the still squinting resurrection and life turned and jumped at the sight of his own darkened outline on the ground below him.

What does this joyous occasion mark? Because he saw his own shadow, the story goes that the world can look forward to 2000 more years of shame and guilt. While some may be disappointed by the prediction, not all are so easily discouraged. Area man and fellow carpenter, Ahmed Aksul, says, "I don't buy into the whole philosophy of easter. But it's still fun to come out each year and watch the only brown-haired blue-eyed man in ancient Mesopotamia rise from death's cold grasp into everlasting life."

The general sentiment of the crowd mirrored that of Aksul. Local mother of 26, Shiba Sulaha, was not permitted to speak to another man under punishment of stoning. However, her husband stated, "The woman is overjoyed at the announcement that some poor, white Jew saw his shadow. She enjoys shame ... as well as guilt."

This reporter is just happy that in today's fast past technological world of reading and thinking for oneself, that the concept of an obviously drug induced fantasy has not been lost. So this year, when easter comes yet again, and you are out with the kids on Sunday morning looking for the eggs jesus has laid in the lawn, take a moment to remember that without death, there is no life. And without jesus, there would be no shame.

Little known fact: When I get really down, I clean. That's why my apartment is usually a disgusting mess.

In other news, there's no more dust on my fan blades. I've run out of things to clean. I'm sure Tuna appreciates it. He's such a good friend. Andy (the friend/co-worker who spent 10 weeks here about a year ago) will be here in about a half hour to stay for a couple of days. That's good news. I'm tired of staring at the walls.

I'm sorry; I can't give you the satisfaction of any more insight.

You're insincere.

I've had this argument many times in my life. Mr. Kenderdine and I almost came to blows over it. It has become increasingly prevalent in my life because of the frequency with which my boss errors in his grammar. I am speaking, of course, about the answer to the age old question, "How are you?"

"Well" is an adverb. It modifies a verb, adjective, or other adverb. "Good" is an adjective. It modifies a noun. I think we can all agree on that (although Ryan Short has already begun his rebuttal before even finishing my blog or determining my stance on the subject).

There are two ways to tell someone how you are. You can say, "I am           ," or "I am doing           ." In the first sentence, the blank is modifying the subject "I," which is a pronoun, a type of noun. You would then use an adjective to modify that noun, so the complete correct sentence would be, "I am good." In the second sentence the blank is modifying the word "doing," which is a verb. You would then use an adverb to modify that verb, so the complete correct sentence would be, "I am doing well," or "I am doing drugs."

The reason people become confused on the issue is because it is grammatically correct to say, "I am well." It is a caveat to the rule, specifically created for when you are describing your physical well-being (coincidence?). Without this exception to the rules, your third grade teacher never would have corrected you when you told her, "I don't feel good," as an excuse to get a drink of water and wander the halls. To say, "I don't feel well," would (normally) infer that your sense of feeling is inadequate -- that you either can't sense when your hand is on the stove, or you're a cold hearted bitch when it comes to relationships. However, with this exception, you are clearly describing your state of physical well-being. You don't feel well. There is something medically wrong with you.

If you don't speak in full sentences, and no one does because we don't have time for that shit, then the unnecessary assumed words are, "I am." If you're still with me at this point, you'll then agree that if your boss, friend or bartender asks, "How are you?" you should reply, "Good." Only if a doctor or nurse asks you, "How are you?" should you reply, "Well."

So if you're continuously using, "Well," or, "I'm well," with your friends, family and coworkers in an attempt to sound smart, instead use correct English and actually be smart. Please?

Good.

It's great to be back. I gotta tell you. Boy, I missed beer. And liquor. Liquor? I hardly even know her. My glorious return to drinking was shared with a couple of birthdays. First, to the Allistralian. She flew halfway around the world and I had to fuckin miss her bbq. I was stuck in Funkytown until like 7:30pm for work, and then by the time I arrived back at the office, I already had some friends from out of town waiting for me. So my apologies, but I do hope you had the best birthday ever.

Next, was Miss Lesbie Ann. She drove up from Austin to celebrate turning into 27. Oh wait, I mean, turning 27, my mistake. She had been to Dallas plenty of times, but she had never been to Addison! I assumed I would have to show her all that Addison! had to offer, but instead, she showed me ....

Friday night we sat around drinkin beers like I do most weekends. I wanted her to meet everyone and see how we do. Saturday morning we woke up and went to Cafe Gecko for Bloody Marys and breakfast (since when are those different things). From there, we went and bought tickets for Dave Chappelle's Block Party. Really, we just wanted to drink more and figured a movie without a solid plot might allow for breaks to the bathroom. A few margaritas and martinis later we retired for a respite in my apartment until it was time for our appointments at the spa. Unfortunately, they couldn't find anyone to massage me on such short notice, but Lester did have a diamond scrub facial with allllll the trimmings. I met her at Zen Bar to celebrate and we threw back a few brewskis, brah. Then we met up with Daniel to go to Shuck and Jive where we ate more oysters than you would normally assume three people would eat and drank a lot more brews, dude. Our plans to get fancied up and go south of 635 were interrupted by our inability to drive. So we wrapped up the evening drinking at Daniel's until we both passed out. What a fabulous weekend. Thank you so much to my host, Leslie!

Last bit of business. Who watched Project Runway? Who else is incensed at the finale? Chloe?!?! Give me a fucking break. Her collection was a bunch of shiny GEM monstrocities. I thought they were going to tear her a new one. I was a Dan Fan through the whole season but had just recently switched to voting for Santino. I wasn't blown away by any one collection, but I thought that Santino would win. Daniel's was too plain Jane store shelf looking. I don't wanna look at anything too conceptual but I also don't want to look at something I probably could have thought of. Blech, what a disappointment. I can't wait until Jay McCarroll's line comes out. I'm gonna wear the shit out of it.

This weekend. Out of town. Niece's 1st birthday in OKC. Can't wait. See you all when I get back.

Join me, won't you, on the home stretch of the second annual self-imposed sabatical from all things sinful. Any by sinful, I mean enjoyable. There are so many stages of Febrehab that you go through during the 28 days of detoxification. First there's the optimism, then the irritability, the pain, the eye gouging, the night sweats ... and eventually, the hump, followed by the denouement. I am now on the last stage -- and RIGHT on time. Remorse. After all I've gone through, why, oh why, would I subject myself to it again. I could just continue this forever and be nonetheworse because of it.

But, FUCK THAT. I think on Wednesday, after work, I will wait until that guy pulls on the tail of that bird perched on the rock outside and makes it whistle. I'll slide down the tail of the Brontosaurus and into my car. At that point, I will flick a Bic and enjoy a Prince flown fresh from Sweden. (BTW, did you catch my Jetsons reference?)

Wednesday and Thursday will be punctuated with the grand, world-wide tradition Berliners refer to as "Feierabend." Ja, meine Freunde, I am talkin about the Happy Hour! Oh, I can't wait. I need to get the chops up, though, to prepare for our victory celebration that I've dubbed "Febrehabruarii -- 28 Days, Not To Be Confused With Its Sequel, 28 Days Later." F28DNTBCWIS28DL? Doubtful. Probable? Keg. Come. BYO, though, the kegs for me. Daniel can have some. And Brett Sabulous could have had some if were going to be in town. Party starts at 8 in Addison Circle. Bring a friend.

I didn't really save any money this year. Instead, I spent every dime that I normally spend on alcohol and cigarettes dining on only the most expensive of cuisines. You haven't lived until you've had 3 foot long crab legs, or 6 lobsters wood grilled on the table in front of you, or rows of raw oysters on a halfshell abed a mound of Sonic ice. I gave up red meat in addition to the other carnal pleasures, so rare steak was off the menu. I didn't really lose any weight either, but damned if it wasn't worth it.

This was the best fucking Febrehabruarii of my life. I'll miss it when it's gone and look forward to next year (preview: Febrehabruariii). Thanks to all of you for your continued attempts to entice me to fail at my goal, and thanks to me for ensuring none of you succeed. Onward, and upward. To the bars!

All of this sobriety is resulting in a lot of down time and some mild to moderate boredom. I decided I needed a project. And since I spend a few hours every night watching some length of a Project Runway marathon, I decided to get back into sewing.

Now, keep in mind that I do not, nor have I ever, known how to sew. But I have made clothes before. This time I intend to make a shirt that I can wear. I know that's ambitious. And while I may not know how to make it happen, I do know how to photoshop over other people's sketches to show you my design.

I chose the colors based on the cheapest fabrics available. I show you this sketch mostly because I think it'll be really funny when I finish the shirt. I'll model it for you all and compare it to the design. I have this vague feeling that my first shirt in about 4 years will go horribly wrong, but I promise to show it to you no matter what. Wish me luck in my latest fruitless endeavor.

Have you seen this Colgate commercial? They're implying that if your gums bleed a little bit when you brush that it could be a sign of gingivitis and that brushing with Colgate will fix that. But what gets me every time is the chick who says "When I saw a little pink in the sink...." You cannot tell me I'm the only one who hears "two in the pink, one in the stink" and looks up expecting to see the shocker.

I have a new goal. Well, actually, it's an old goal, but I'm going to go for it now. I want to own everything as seen on TV. I'm talking everything. I'm going to begin with the Faraday Flashlight. It's a flashlight that charges itself based on the electromagnetic principles discovered by English chemist and physicist Michael Faraday. I'm really impressed they named it after him too. I also like that you have to shake it in a masturbatorial motion in order to get it to work.

How was Vegas? Oh, I'm glad you asked. I won about 700 bucks. Yay! Unfortunately, I lost about 850. It was pretty fun though. I hit a couple of big pots on the slots. I was just in such a mood for slots. You know how it is, when you get all slotty, put on your slottiest outfit. I got to see the Allistralian! She is back in the contiguous United States. We were in Vegas together for her last night and my first night. Good times. I need to call her now that she's in Dallas. The rest of my trip was resignation fodder, but the odds of that blossoming beyond an idle threat are small. I used to have ambition. Sigh.

I don't have to work tomorrow. Rawk! Oh, I almost forgot it was still Febrehabruarii and I have to comment on it. I didn't crack whilst in Sin City. It was a huuuuuge challenge, but no problemo for yours truly. I've been having a lot of sober fun with my fellow rehabruaers, Daniel and Brett Sabulous. Oh, and in closing, let me just save you all 8 bucks -- do NOT go see Date Movie. Laaaaaaaaaate.

In a twist of irony, I will be in Sin City next week Tuesday through Friday. I will be working in a hotel right near The Strip. It just sucks that this had to happen during Febrehabruarii. I have decided that there is a Vegas caveat in the rule book. If at any time during February I am sent to Vegas for a week for free, I will allow myself 300 dollars to try and win enough money to quit my job. Still, though, no smoking and no drinking. The office in Vegas had offered to take me out and show me a good time and have me stay through the weekend on their dime. I had to decline the majority of that. I'll be home on Friday. Plus, Allison will be here. To add to suckiness, she'll have left Vegas the day before I arrive. Oh fate, why must you mock me!

In other news, everything else has been going well. I think a lot of weak people are mad at me, but there's very little I can do about that. So we trudge on. I'm really starting to look forward to March 1st, even though I think I won't break the rehabruarii until March 3rd because I'm running some training courses the 1st and 2nd and don't really need to be hungover for that. Start brainstorming what we're going to do that weekend to celebrate. I want it to be something fun. Laaaaaaaate.

It was the best of sobriety; it was the worst of sobriety. I've officially made it a week. To be honest, I wasn't sure it was going to happen. This is harder than I remember. Day 3 is always the worst (obviously, read the last post). Day 7 though is when the physical addictions have quieted down to a murmur and the habitual addictions come screaming to the surface. Today I was on the A&M campus doing some recruiting for about 2 hours. I rode down and back to be there for 2 hours. Lame, I know. But just walking across campus made me want a cigarette so much that the hair on the back of my neck stood up. I resisted, though, don't worry. I am still participating in Febrehabruarii, as is Mr. Brett Sabulous. I guess everyone else is out ... since you can't start after the Super Bull.

Really this past week has been nothing short of a roller coaster for me. Some days I just feel fucking amazing and the next I'm really, really low. I've had a lot of fucking fun, and I've missed out on a lot. I'm not all that pleasant to be around ... sometimes ... and you never know when that time is. I've given up so much that sometimes it's hard to remember all the things I'm not doing. What I am doing, though, is working out like a mofo. To date, I've lost 7 pounds. That's a pound a day, retards. I should write a book.

So, I was on a high earlier, now I'm on a low. Give me five minutes or another triple shot venti cappuchino and I might be on a high again. Until then, go fuck yourself.

I'm not going to stand here in front of all of you and claim that my life is any more amusing, entertaining, or spectacular than yours. When I get up in the morning, I put my pants on one leg at a time. HOWEVER, you would not guess it from the life I've led recently.

Our story begins last Friday. I was sitting at work when I received a phone call from Daniel. He had gone to Galveston for the weekend and was upgraded to the Palladian Suite at the Treemont. He said I should come check it out. I shut down my PC, walked out the door, and drove straight to Love Field. I bought a plane ticket to Hobby and got on the plane. We had so much fun tearin up the mean streets of Galveston. Oh, Galveston, you poor, poor shitty little town. We walked all around trying out every bar in town, meeting all of the club owners and DJs, and making friends on the streets. We ended up going to an after party at a really nice loft one night and a really fun beach house the second night. There are too many funny stories from that weekend, you'll just have to hear them in person, as most of you have.

Then last night, I was invited by Brett Sabulous to accompany him to his company party. He works for a major hotel. I don't want to get him in any trouble with his company through my webpage, since his father googled him and read about our first night on the stoop. Anyway, I don't really have anything incriminating to say about our sandy and gritty friend this time. We just had too much fun. There was a casino at the hotel with fake money, and then you could purchase raffle tickets. I had $4,000 to start with and managed to piss away half of it when I decided to bet the rest on one hand and get back to even. This is why we do not take Sidesho to Vegas. I ended up betting everything I had left on the next hand and winning, and then continued to scream "LET IT RIDE" for the next few hands. A few wins and a blackjack later, I found myself with 16,000 dollars. We didn't win any raffles, but still had a blast. A few drinks and a few bars later, we were back in our palacial suite at the hotel in Addison!. Way, way too much fun. We got on the internet through the TV and were completely stupid. (After some taquitos, naturally).

I started this blog like 24 hours ago and just now got around to finishing it. There are a few more stories I need to tell but I'll save them for the next blog. Laaaaaaaaaaate.

I thought that it might be fun today to play a little game with all of you. I've obtained an exclusive photograph of a celebrity trash can. Given the three options, you have to guess whose trash it is. Ready? Here we go.

Is the answer A: British soccer stud and metrosexual posterboy David Beckham, B: International super model and reality TV emcee Heidi Klum, orrrrrr C: internet megalomaniac and google addict SideshoViD.

If you said C, you're right! You win everything behind door #1. Now take my trash out, idiot. Do you think it says anything about my lifestyle that I'm overflowing with empty cases of beer, empty cans, empty cigarette packs, and empty pizza boxes? I think it means I need to buy more beer, cigarettes, and pizza. Am I right?

Really, it is getting out of control and while it's all going to be going away during Febrehabruarii, I think it might be prudent to wean myself a little before then. I don't want to put my body in shock. Speaking of, is anybody else doing Febrehabruarii?

Hope you all had a good New Year's party and were hungover like it's 2006. Peace out skillets.

You know those commercials on tv that are like, "Do you like to draw?" And you can order that free test to see how good you are and the test includes doodling a pirate and a parrot and shit. Well, I was pretty hammered a couple weeks ago and that commercial came on so I called them. In between my information I kept throwing in phrases like, "Boy, you're really going to be blown away by what I can do." My plan was to fill out the test, scan it in so you could all laugh at it with me and then mail it in. Unfortunately, that probably won't happen.

I got a phone call from Carol at the Art Institute who wanted to interview me. She said there was no need for me to mail in a test since it would just end up on her desk anyway so I can fill it out with her there. I told her that art is my life and always has been and that all of my friends are just blown away by my sketches. She was really getting excited with me about my art. Why must my art hurt me so?

Then she wanted to schedule a time and I was totally going to do it. Sometimes I don't like to admit it, but in this case, I will. I was only gonna do it because it would make a really great blog. I wanted to double check that it wasn't a scam first, though, so I asked her if I had to pay anything. And she said she was gonna be right up front with me, school is 30 dollars a week. "30 DOLLARS!!1!" I exclaimed. She asked me if I had a job and I said I was in between jobs right now but I had put in an application at Starbucks a couple weeks ago and still had my fingers crossed. Carol said I need to get my life together by February because she has me rescheduled for her next trip to Dallas.

I will keep you all posted on how my new career is progressing. Right now I have to go get together 3 of my best drawings to show Carol.

This month is shaping up to be a bit sparse on the entries. My apologies. But I did want to take a moment to let you all know that I have a third niece! Kelsey Lee Fisher was born yesterday. Michael, let me know if I messed that up, I've had a few beers since we last spoke. This is my third sibling to have a daughter once again putting me back in the lead for the most nieces of anyone in my family. I'm really excited. I haven't seen pictures yet, but I'm sure she's just beautiful.

Tonight I went to Ryan Short's holidaze party graciously hosted by Ben et. al. We drank a little, at some delicious food, and exchanged "secret" Santa gifts. I got Ryan a bottle of Grey Goose because honestly, I did some last minute shopping, and you can't go wrong there. Kayne got me a hair crimper harkening back to a conversation months ago where someone posed the question, "If I bought you a crimper, would you crimp your hair?" The answer? Yes.

My hair is now crimped and streaked with blue, orange, and red colored hair spray so I have to take another shower before I go to bed and it's ever so late and work has been ever so hellish even without staying up late, so tomorrow should be interesting. Wish me luck!

I know you were all expecting an immediate reaction to my Thanksgiving, since it is my favorite holy day of the year, so I apologize for keeping you in suspense. In all honesty, it wasn't wild and or crazy, just nice. I drove up to OKC to see my sister. Her daughter is about 8 months old now. It's totally an age you don't want to miss out on, but, c'mon ... babies don't do much. She can't talk yet, she can't walk yet, so while I wouldn't trade seeing her for anything, it was pretty low key.

Our turkey was pretty good. I don't know that it was 140 dollars good, but it was scrumptious. The best part of the Heritage Turkey is that it comes with a barcode. When you enter that barcode at their website, it brings up your turkey's personal history. Our hen was born in March of 2005 and raised on a farm in Kansas. She liked roosting in tall trees. It was kind of morbid, so we gave her a eugoogaly before we tore into her roasted butter basted carcass. Thanks be given. We shared the meal with my niece's other grandparents, the baptits preacher. The baptits preacher doesn't drink or dance or believe anyone but him is getting into the pearly gates. Well since there was a baptits at the table (you guys have noticed I'm spelling it 'baptits' on purpose by now right? good) that meant that I couldn't drink either. So annoying.

As soon as he left we busted out the beer and scotch and played poker and me and my dad robbed my brother-in-law blind. It was too funny. Unfortunately though, the next day my sister was feeling sick. Her daughter was already under the weather and kind of cranky (which is not her usual demeanor). So my parents and I opted to leave a bit earlier than planned and drop off at Winstar for some gambalaya. I didn't win anything but I did lose the 20 bucks I'd won from poker, so I came out even. That's pretty good for me since I have a gambling problem ... my problem is that I suck at it.

Thanksgiving plans? I'm going to host one in December when Owen is in town. It will be held at the Hamptons by my gracious host Miles. Not only will there be booze there, but I imagine it will be at least 8 of the 9 side dishes. Bourbon soup, here we come. Look forward to your invitation to that, even though most of you won't receive one.

Lastly, I am done with sleep medicine. No more CPAPs, no more machines, no more masks, no more pills, no more studies, no more labs, no more brain waves, no more oxygen monitors, no more REM, NO MORE NO MORE NO MORE. I went to the doctor today, returned everything they'd given me, shook their hands and left. Best of all? No more payments. I just need to work on getting back to where I was 7 months ago before I started all of this nonsense. I was tired, but I was functioning. That's the combo I'm trying to get back to. If it turns out that I can't do it on my own, I will accept the advice of the doctor and return for an unlimitedly refilled subscription to Provigil, but I'm hoping it won't come to that.

Miles bought me a prescription to Details! UH! Thanks Miles!

I just got my Addison! newsletter in the mail. I really have not been utilizing all that this city! has to offer. Honestly, I just keep eating at the same restaurants! over and over again when there are literally hundreds I have not tried. There's the Water Tower Theater! a stones throw from my apartment and I have yet to see a show. Speaking of theater! they are playing The Santaland Diaries! by David Sedaris! December 7th through the 23rd. Tickets! are $17-30, anybody want to go?

I also hear a lot about this Addison! Gym. Apparently, if you can prove that you live in Addison! (which shouldn't be hard to do since ... I do), there is a one time fee of $10 for a lifetime membership. I was confused as to how this could possibly be profitable for them. But I found out that I already pay for the gym. It's like part of my taxes. I suppose since we don't have schools or anything lame like that, we can afford to allot money to the Recreation Department. So I need to go check that out and see if it's as nice as Lifetime. I pay for my gym, but my company reimburses me the majority of it as part of the employee wellness program, so I guess I could always have two gym memberships. It's just a matter of getting off my lazy ass and signing up.

AllieD's friend Jennifer IMed me today and informed me that Target has outlawed Xmas. In addition, they have started selling bargain-brand vibrators at all of their stores. This is unsubstantiated information from an unknown source, but I'm definitely going to have to research this. Anyone with any information, please let me know.

I've decided in 2006 to repeat my February experiment. I'm sure you'll all recall it from this year. In 2006, though, it will (of course) be called Febrehabruarii. Like you didn't see that coming. I'm thinking that this year will be even more intense than last year. No booze, no cigarettes, no caffeine, no staying up late, no skipping even one workout, no ground beef or fatty food, no spending money frivolously. Come March, I am going to be really, really, ridiculously good looking (and out of debt). Mark my words. Anyone want to take up the Febrehabruarii experiment with me?

I might be getting a new washer and dryer today. I'm buying Miles' old ones from him because mine squeak and it is annoying. Lil Jarrod randomly called me today and we went to lunch with Daniel at J's, yum, and he said he wanted a washer and dryer, so I'm giving mine to him. Does anyone have a truck that we could use? You'd have to drive from Addison! to Den-ton¿ but I'm sure we could find some way to make it worth your while. I don't know how fun it will be to have an extra bed and an extra W/D set all chillin in my living room. I mean I know I'm white trash, but srsly.

I'm going to OKC for Thanksgiving to eat my 140 dollar Heritage turkey with my parents, sister & fam, so I'll be out Wednesday through Saturday. I got another coupon from my company for a free Butterball turkey, though, so I think I'm gonna throw my own Thanksgiving party later. Probably mid-December when Owen is in town. Miles offered to let me throw it over at the Hamptons (his new house -- in the Hamptons of Addison!). So that should be fun. I'll be sure to keep you all posted on that.

This next week is going to suck, especially with this attitude, but it will be a short one so I'm sure I can survive. It's gonna be a big push to remain employed through the end of the year but I'm sure I can do it. And, I think that's all I had to say. Funny, when I sat down, I thought I had nothing to talk about. Carpe diem, friends! HA! HA!

I've had a couple of stories up my sleeve for about a week now. Usually if I'm too lazy (hungover) to blog right away, the story never gets told. Who knows what awesome parties went unblogged and have since been forgotten. Well, not this one. Not Miss Lesbie Ann's Housewarming Party!

It was so grood to have the old gang all back together. It was Leslie, Rick, Josh, Bob, Raul, Tyresa, Aaron. So not the entire gang, but certainly some key players. We had planned on two days of merriment, getting drunk and retelling old stories. It made me miss the days of Halo when you just knew each weekend was going to be more interesting than the last. But back to my story, Leslie's house is just beautiful. I'm a tad jealous, but we Addison folk don't long for equity. Josh got her a delicious candle. Aaron got her a golden blanket. But Bob ... oh, Bob ... Bob got her cocknballs.

As soon as Leslie unwrapped the rather sizeable frame, Josh said, "That's BOB!" And indeed it was. This bit of expressionism is titled "Señor Humps." If you'll look closely, you'll see that Bob has painted his anterior and posterior with different colors of paint and then sacrificed his body for his art. There's really a lot of emotion in it. Emotion and pubic hair.

Thanks for the killer party, Lester!

Story #2. The other day, my most sabulous friend Brett texted me and invited me out to dinner. We decided to take up Smith and Wollensky (one of my all time fav steakhouses) on their "eat your age" offer. Every day after 8:30pm, you can go in and get an appetizer, an entree, and a dessert and pay a dollar for every year you've managed to survive (minimum $25, maximum $65). I'm not sure why they do this, possibly because we were just about the only people in there that late, but surely they're taking a loss on it. But who cares, everything that I ordered totalled $60-70 easily, and I paid $25. It's an amazing deal, everyone go check it out.

There are very few exceptions to the offer. There's some seafood boquet appetizer for 100 bucks that's off limits. And the live Maine lobster and like a 30lb. lobster tail. Pretty much anything over 100 bucks you can't get but anything else you want. So when I was asked if I'd like the 8oz. filet mignon or the 14oz. I replied, "Derrrrrrrrr." Not to be outdone, Mr. Sabulous ordered himself the 28oz. prime rib. And of course, we're connoisseurs, so we got it all rare. So there are 42 fucking ounces of raw meat on our table, as well as some potatoes (as shown), creamed spinach, and a wonderful bottle of wine. It was a fight to fit it all in, but we certainly ate until we could eat no more. g*d, I love gluttony. We had to save room for dessert, too. So we had all that plus crab meat and fried calamari appetizers, six shooter sorbets and the trio of creme brulees, and we got out of there spending next to nothing. What a wonderful way to spend an evening, thanks Brett!

I'm fresh out of stories now, until next time, same Sidesho-channel. Peace.

I went to the sleep lab again. This time, I slept normally at home for 8 hours and then woke up at my normal time and went to the hospital. I got to eat breakfast and then had to take a nap. I took 30 minute naps at 9, 11, 1, 3 and 5. If during any one of these tests, you happen to fall asleep within 10 minutes, that is a cause for some concern. But there are so many factors that they take the average. Cause some people will fall asleep really easily after lunch and stuff. Anywho, the AVERAGE time it took me to fall asleep was under 2 minutes. So I have scientific verification that I am tired. Awesome.

That's the reason I was afraid I had narcolepsy. But the difference between me and a narcoleptic is that they fall directly into REM immediately, and, well, we all know, I never go into REM. So I'm just way tired. And they don't know why. Well, they do know why. Because I have horrible, horrible apnea. But we cured that and it made it worse. So ... what to do?

They finally took Miles' advice. Miles always told me that my problem wasn't sleeping, it was being awake. And they make pills for that. Well, I got some. It's called Provigil. It is a modafinil stimulant that has none of the addictive side effects of an amphetamine. Please try to remember the name of my medication because I am taking the good shit -- the name brand. Nothing generic here. There are some knock-offs on the market that you can get, though. The first one I found is called Brovigil. It keeps you awake all day... and can also work as a date rape drug when placed in a freshman girl's Zima. Then, there is Movigil. Movigil smells good, but oddly enough tastes like well-vodka and Astroglide. Don't ask me how I know that. So ultimately, I decided I'd go with the Pro- version of the medication. There was one substitute I considered opting for, but it was just wayyyy too bitter. It was called Sidesho-vigil.

I am currently dosing with the Provigil, but will probably eventually be taking 200mg in the morning and 200mg right after lunch. I don't know that it's done me any good just yet, but we shall see. Once I get stabilized with the correct amount of stimulants, I am going to try the CPAP again. And then once we get to a point where I can sleep (and function the next day) using the CPAP, I'm sure I'll go in for another round of tests. My doctor said he's turned me into a research study since he's never seen anything like this before. I asked, but he said that it didn't mean that he would be paying me from now on instead of vice versa.

It's a never ending saga. I'm taking a break from it all this weekend in Austin to go to Leslie's house warming. And I might be going to Detroit on Monday for a week. That's still up in the air. Sheezalmighty, grood times. Holla back, yungin'.

And before you even ask ... $20.

I go to the sleep doctor tomorrow morning. From the research I've done, I have a feeling my life is going to consist of a little bit more of this than anything else. There is no mechanized cure for whatever it is that afflicts me; it's all chemical from this point on. I'm just crossing my fingers that I get a subscription to some kind of medication with a street value. *wink* *wink* *nudge* *nudge* Y'get what I'm sayin? Open up shop, beeyotch.

I'm actually pretty nervous. I make a lot of jokes about not sleeping, mostly because it's my favorite defense mechanism. The last time that I went to the doctor and they told me that I should stop using the CPAP because it wasn't the cure and that we'd have to do more testing, I sat in the parking lot for a while and cried. It's not so much that I care that I have to do all of this. I mean, I've gone through enough geriatric treatment for arthritic knees that I'm not hung up on wanting to be normal. Let's be honest, normal is just a synonym for average. But the utter frustration of the whole experience did get to me. That coupled with being exhausted, tends to weaken your barriers. But, fear not, dear viewers, for my optimism knows no bounds. I just know that tomorrow I'm gonna get some good news. Ooh, I hope they subscribe me some vicadin; I love that shit.

Tonight I got to see Miles' fabulous new residence. We are all very excited about the time that will be spent there together. Congrats Miles! Even though Mr. Sabulous and I were the only two people you forgot to mention on your website! This weekend I'm going to Round Rock to attend Miss Lesbie Ann's housewarming party. If any of you are in the area, give me a call and you can come to the party. I RSVP'ed to the e-vite with +46 guests just to throw off the guest count. Also, if anyone from Dallas would like to go with me, I'd more than welcome the company. Thanks and gig this. Later bitches.

This was another fabulous weekend spent on the stoop. We all just kind of hung out, watched movies, and drank a whole bunch. Last night, around 4am, we had the bright idea to go to J's Hamburgers and Breakfast for a post-evening meal. Usually when I say something was a "bright idea" I mean it sarcastically, but in this sense, it truly was a delight. I had some sausage patties and a few too many cups of coffee. Daniel, Miles and I rode back (the 3 blocks) to our little stretch of Addison circle and were prepared to drink a little more and then turn in when we heard the most pathetic little, "Excuse me. Excuse me."

We turned to find this woman -- drunk and crying -- wandering the streets of Addison with no shoes on. She explained to us in between sobs how her friend and her had gotten into a fight over a man, and she was now locked out with no phone, no keys, and no shoes. We offered to let her in the building and walk her up to her friend's apartment (for moral support). When we got to the fourth floor, she wandered around aimlessly, sobbing some more, claiming she couldn't remember which apartment belonged to her friend. She sat there helplessly, and then in a fit of rage the likes of which I haven't seen since I shared a bedroom with my brother, she randomly decided that the door nearest to her was the one she was looking for and began beating it down screaming, "OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR YOU BITCH!" I didn't have the time to take a picture of her, so I illustrated it all for you:

Since we're such rock steady moral support for all vagrants and vagabonds north of 635, the second she hit that random stranger's door with all her might, we exited stage right. We took the elevator down to my floor and then sprinted back to my apartment. We slammed the door, laughed for a minute, and then watched the Magic Bullet infomercial. I hope that chick is okay and didn't have to sleep in the hallway. Actually, wait, no, I don't care.

What I did have my camera for was the sign that Miles, Lindy and I were looking at outside of Daniel's building while we waited for everyone to join us. Here's a quick snapshot of it. We were trying to decipher it's meaning. Lindy decided that it was a message to all handicapped people to "just get up." Just get up. I thought that was so funny ... after many, many longnecks. I just had to share it with you all.

I had too much fun once again within the confines of Addison Circle. I find less and less reason to go downtown these days. I hope my friends south of 635 know that they are always welcome to the stoop. Just FYI. Okay, that's all I have for today. Now let's all get out there, hustle and have a grood week. *slap on the butt*

I have read on the internet again and again and again that using a simple Brita water filter, one can turn ordinary squeezy vodka into a top shelf delight. Being the scientifically minded alcoholic that I am, I just had to try this for myself. Mr. Kenderdine and myself set out for the Goody Goody liquor store to get the required materials. I didn't want to simply recreate experiments that have already been done, and this may have affected my results. Most websites I've read involve good, okay, and shitty vodka. After filtering half of the shitty vodka, a blind taste test ensues. Ours was a little different. However, our hypothesis was the same:

Is this the equation to unlimited high-quality, low-cost booze? We decided that cape cods would be our vodka drink of choice. We could have taken straight vodka shots, but I wanted to add a hint of applicability. I'm not gonna say I never drink vodka straight and dance in my underwear to Neil Diamond, but I'm more inclined to have a cocktail. Our two vodkas were McCormick and Effen. I'd never had Effen before, but I just thought it was too much fun to ask for some "Effen vodka." The price differential was over 20 dollars.

The idea here has to do with the distilling and filtration process that vodka producers go through. Many of them use simple carbon filtrating to remove impurities from the vodka. The impurities are what can change the flavor of the alcohol, so if you go a few steps beyond the distillery and run it through the Brita a few times, you're going to be left with a Brita basin full of Greygoose. Seemed unlikely, but plausible. g*d, i'm like my own Myth Buster.

After filtering half of the McCormick twice, we poured ourselves a couple of drinks with the unfiltered variety. I measured out an ounce and a half, since we like our drinks with a little stank on em. The bite was quite intense. After the initial wince, it went down a little easier. I had a few friends over to join in on the taste test. It was good times. We decided that the unfiltered McCormick was most decidedly vile. But, what could twice through a filter accomplish?

On to the filtered vodka. Conclusion? Nasty. There was the same unpleasant taste we'd experienced before. We'd all had a few drinks at this point, and were worried that the intoxication level might taint the experience. Mr. Kenderdine was the first to be ready for an Effen vodka cape cod. On his first sip, he started laughing hysterically. I asked him repeatedly what was so fucking funny and all he could do was hand me his glass. I took a sip and joined him in a hearty laugh. It was sooo good. Unbelievably better. From that point on, we called the experiment over and all stuck to Effen for the rest of the night.

There are several X factors involved here. If any of you have tried this differently, with different vodka, straight, blind, or otherwise, let me know if it worked for you. Because for us, it was most definitely BUSTED. Life is too short to drink cheap liquor. Write that down.

But we all got drunk. And if you get drunk, then you have to ultimately call it a success. Hurray!

You know that scene in Spiderman when Peter Parker gets bitten by the genetically altered (or radioactive, for you comic buffs) spider? Then he goes home and everything is spinning. When he wakes up, he no longer needs his glasses and he looks in the mirror and he's all buff. And all of a sudden, he has super human strength and boundless energy. He goes running down the stairs and pulls a sweet freestyle walking move. That, my friends, is how I felt this morning.

I used my CPAP for real for the first time last night. I still woke up several times when the delicate balance between my apartment temperature and the humidifier temperature caused large amounts of condensation to spill down my nasal passage, but it was still amazing. I have never felt this good in my life. In fact, I made a little graphic so you could all see just how I felt. It was the first morning in a long, long time that I didn't have to drag my ass out of bed while desiring to shoot myself in the forehead. On the drive to work, I was alert. I was productive. I didn't involuntarily slump over and fall asleep after lunch. Leaving work, I was still feeling well rested and awake. I went to work out and had more energy than I knew what to do with. I benched more than I ever have. I didn't fall asleep in the tanning bed. I came home and am feeling sooooo grood. This is exactly what I have been dreaming of (well, not literally since I've never had REM before).

My life will never be the same.

Run! Here comes Hurricane Rita! To the left you'll see the latest image of Hurricane Rita as she approaches the Texas coastline. Damn, she looks delicious. Everyone and their dogs (literally) are evacuating Galveston and Houston. I've heard it's pretty chaotic. I45 is all lanes northbound at the moment. My brother left Houston like 12 hours ago and is just now making it to Dallas. This shit is scary. They say that it could still be a Category 1 hurricane when it hits Dallas. Fuck! We're gonna get flooding rain this weekend. I know it could be worse if I lived on the coast, and I hope everyone there is okay. Luckily, I live on the 3rd floor, so all of my things should be okay, in case you were worried. I probably shouldn't make jokes like photoshopping a devastating storm onto a frosty glass, but meh, what'reyagonnado?

In other noise, my CPAP doesn't work. In a little twist of irony, I managed to acquire myself a little head cold the day that my machine came home with me. My nose is completely stuffed. No air in, no air out, therefore the CPAP does nothing. Sucks. I still haven't gotten to experience real sleep, but as soon as I do, you'll all be the first to know. Oh well, at least I still look like this while I sleep.

Everyone be safe this weekend, get the fuck away from the gulf, and if any evacuees need a place to stay, you're more than welcome to come here. Now let's all go get a 'rita!

Last night I spent the night in the sleep lab once again. This time I slept with a CPAP on. We started out with just trying on a few different masks. None of them were particularly comfortable, but I chose the one that did not stick like a half inch into my nostril. Honestly, whoever designed some of these masks are medieval sons-a-bitches. So I chose the one I disliked the least and then went to sleep.

They started off on a really low pressure, essentially allowing me to choke and gasp for a while and then gradually increased the pressure until I stopped completely. Everyone was pretty surprised, given the severity of my condition, how low the optimal pressure was. I know it was 6 (and they were expecting somewhere around 18). For those scientifically minded people, I'm pretty sure that's centimeters of water. They said my age may have something to do with how readily my body would adapt to a low pressure. Usually it's saggy 60-year-olds who need a CPAP. Because they allowed me to have "events" for the first part of the night, they couldn't tell me exactly how much better I was with the CPAP, but they guessed my 70-80 times an hour should be reduced to 5 times per night. Yesssssss.

I'm really just glad I have some public forum on which I can bring about some awareness of sleep apnea. This CPAP not only allows me to sleep (I had a dream last night while laying on my back ... probably the first ever) but it eliminates my snoring. Anybody who has ever spent the night with me can attest that a machine strapped to my face is infinitely better than my snoring. If you have insurance and trouble sleeping, man, just fucking go to a sleep lab. They could really help you. I cooked up a batch of these bracelets. If you'd like one, send me $20, idiot.

I appreciate everyone's well wishes last night when I had my away message up. It said, "I'm going to sleep now ... for the first time in my life. Wish me luck." I had several good lucks, a few I love yous, etc., etc. Then there was our good friend Thommi who had this to say:

Fucking bitch. The first night of my life where I'm supposed to get medically treated for uninterrupted sleep and he expects me to wake up and write him a paper. Last things last. When you see me out, keep in mind that you're going to wake up next to this:

I painted my bedroom ceiling. My walls were already dark green and now my ceiling is dark brown. It looks incredible. I still have some touching up to do, but I'm basically done. Here's a picture I snapped:

I'm trying to get my apartment in tip top shape before Mikey moves to Dallas. It's an indirect motivation since he's already seen my apartment and probably doesn't care either way on the ceiling color. But I needed a deadline to shoot for, so that's the one.

He's moving here on Friday. I am beyond excited. Also happening that weekend: My whole family is coming into town, Brandon is coming up from Austin to celebrate his birthday, Brett Sandy (so sabulous) is having his 21st birthday party, Addison Circle's Oktoberfest, Dallas Pride. I have a full plate to say the least.

I bought a vacuum finally the other day. It sucks. It's a bagless one and I got through like half of my living room and the canister was full. My 735 square feet of fun filled the damn thing 3 times. How disgusting is that?

Well I suppose I'll go to bed in my Hangover Palace now. It is insanely dark in there; I LOVE IT. HAPPY 22nd BIRTHDAY BRANDON!

Today was the best trip of my vacation thus far, and it has nothing to do with the fact that it's my last day in New Jersey. We had to do a lot of work in a high school that involved going into classrooms. Since we couldn't do the work while class was in session, we planned on working from 2-11 today. My coworker, insistent that I not leave New Jersey without having at least a little bit of fun, decided to include me on his trip to the beach in Seaside Heights.

It was too much fun. It looks like a Coney Island or something. There's a boardwalk with shops and restaurants and bars and arcades all up and down the beach. It was absolutely dead since it was a Thursday morning and it's after Labor Day, but it was still fun. I want to come back here on vacation some summer to see it rawkin'. The beach was really nice. It was 80 degrees and sunny and just a gorgeous day to spend sunning. We even went down into the water and body surfed on these enormous waves. I got my ass so kicked. I was riding some waves that were way too big to be riding. I drank enough sea water to last me for the rest of my life.

I rode this one particular wave that was too big. When I stood up, I gasped for breath and immediately got hit by another wave. When I finally came up for air, I was stumbling through the rip current and stepped down right on top of something sharp. I kind of hop-skipped and then looked at my foot. There was a little dot of blood, so I was pissed that I'd scraped my heel. That led me to take a break from body surfing. The blood kind of ran out and formed a blood/sand cover for the wound, so I wasn't worried about it. We laid out a while longer and then drove back to my hotel.

I decided I should probably clean my scrape, but when I was washing it in the tub, there were two little piece of sand that wouldn't wash off. And it hurt like hell when I touched it. I realized they were stuck in my foot. No biggie. I went to get my tweezers and pull them out. I grabbed a hold of the first one and started pulling. Oh, it came out. It came out a little bit, then a little more, then some more, and then some more. It was a long ass little piece of some kind of crustaceon. It hurt like a fucking bitch to pull it out and then started bleeding profusely. Then I turned to the next one. It was even bigger and hurt so bad when I tried to pull it out that I stopped. My coworker tried to pull it out but he couldn't. After calling around to find out where the nearest hospital was, I decided to just giterdone myself. So I grabbed it with the tweezers, bit down, and pulled. It was like a good inch long and completely inside my foot. This one hurt even worse and bled even more. In fact, it spurted out blood. So gross.

Anyway, I'm okay now. It doesn't appear to be infected. I've been limping all day, but really the only reason I told you about this is because I used my camera phone to take a picture of it and I wanted you all to see it. Kthanks.

This has turned into the weekend from hell. They pulled what they glibly described as "the ol' bait and switch." My "3 day all expenses paid weekend in New York City" has turned into "working 18 hours a day in Queens while commuting from South Jersey all over Labor Day weekend." I'd have to say I rarely if ever get this pissed. It has just been a disaster. My boss and boss's boss and boss's boss's boss aren't happy about how things went down either, so without divulging anything that would get me dooced, they've promised to make it up to me. And I know they will. And while I'm here I'm working hard. I've just never been so slighted before.

It's all thankless too, that's the best part. So just in case any of you were jealous, which I know some of you were, because quite honestly, I'm awesome, this is one of those times when you can lean your lawn chair way back as you bask in the simplicity of your own living room. I'm having no fun at all.

So I won't even get to see New York City, besides what I see from the highways as I traverse my way from Jersey to NYC through toll roads, turn pikes, and bridges. The bridges here have tolls as high as 9 dollars. Insanity. I am making my way pretty well though. Today I was chatting with my sister on the drive home and took a wrong split in the highway and ended up in Williamsburg. With my limited knowledge of the city I was able to make it back to Queens and then start my trip over again. I kinda love the city itself. It's rather sexy. I just wish I could enjoy it.

Enough complaining though. I was supposed to come home the 16th and I just changed my flight to the 9th. They can eat me if they don't like it. I informed my boss that I was coming home early and he encouraged me to do so. It's so nice to have management that really and truly backs you up and is understanding and respectful. That's what's lacking here.

No NYC for me, but yay I'm coming home. I can't wait to be home. In two weeks I go back to the sleep clinic to get my Constant Positive Air Pressure (CPAP) machine calibrated. Another night in the sleep lab, ugh! The last one wasn't as bad as I thought. You know how I said I didn't sleep at all? Well I did. I slept for six and a half hours. I just didn't realize it because I rarely made it out of the first stage of sleep. I only hit REM for 20 minutes, so I basically have been getting about 20 minutes of sleep a night for the past decade. It's nice to know I'm not crazy.

The apnea though. Lordy, lordy! A normal 24 year old probably wakes up during the course of the night about 5 times for any range of reasons. I, on the other hand, again, because I'm awesome, wake up 70 fucking times an HOUR!1!! They classify that as "severe." No shit. And every time I wake up it is because I've stopped breathing. So I stop breathing 70 times per hour. I'll spare you the hassle of pulling up your desktop calculator -- That's roughly every 51 seconds. Not exactly conducive to sleep. But this CPAP stops that from happening, meaning I could hit REM for 8 hours in one night. Holy shit, can you imagine what a difference that would make in my life?!

A few people have separately expressed the same concern. What if my personality changes on account of this? Think about it. How much more easy going are you after you've just pulled an all-nighter? Just kinda lazily making through the day. Miles even commented that when he's really tired he gets loopy and funny. I'm like that all the time. What if when I'm well rested I'm a really serious asshole? Hard to imagine, I know, I know.

Anyway, I gotta go piss and moan a little more to my parents, I just wanted you all to know that I'm miserable, so you could at least feel a little better about your own Labor Day weekend. An ULDE:IYDKYDG this is not. THIS time when I get back I'm not going nowhere, no how. So all those parties I've promised you all, we're gonna have. Unfortunately medical costs have bankrupted me, but I still have enough $$$ to get bombed. So this weekend, Ryan Short specifically, it's on!

Two weeks later, I have finally arrived back home. Getting from Cincinnati to Austin was an ordeal. It took right around 12 hours total. First my plane from Cincinnati to Chicago was delayed by the hurricane. When it finally arrived, we were delayed by a problem at O'Hare. By the time I got to Chicago, my connecting flight was long gone. My new flight was then canceled and I ended up getting to Austin-Bergstrom at 1am. A long cab ride later I was finally at Leslie's.

Leslie's apt was low-key and fun. We sat around drinkin' wine and brewskis and watching Food Network and Napoleon Dynamite. Leslie just bought a house! Yay! Her housewarming party should be sometime around October and I cannot wait. We drove by the house and it is too cute. Even though the street name is dirrty.

I drove back to Dallas today and finally got to see my buddy, Tuna. I'm a little disconcerted by the fact that he no longer has a tail fin. I'm not sure what happened there, but he is a uniplegic now. Poor guy. He is not in a good mood. Thanks to Mr. Kenderdine for taking such doting care of my fish.

I went and had coffee with Mikey since he's staying up in Plano while he interviews here in Dallas. Good times, good times. Alright, I gotta go to bed, but I wanted to let you all know that I made it back alive. I'm not really looking forward to returning to work tomorrow, but I'm going to the sleep clinic tomorrow night, so I have something to look forward to. Here's to my last night of apnea ridden sleep. Huzzah!

I did it. I fucking did it. I traversed the globe from Austin, TX to Cincinnati, OH without a single hitch. I even rented my first car and followed directions to my hotel. From my balcony, I overlook a White Castle. I might have to try that tomorrow for dinner and see if it sucks even worse than Krystals does. The lady at the front desk here is super cool. She gave me a smoking room with a balcony, and had a fridge sent up to my room so I could keep the beers cold that she gave me. Who knows if she's this nice to everyone, but it sure does feel special.

I know Brandon had requested a big long blog all about my weekend in Austin, but that may have to wait a couple of days, which in effect means I will never get around to it. It is now midnight and I have to meet some dude in the lobby at 7am to go to the UC campus. So far I'm having a good time. Thanks jebus there's free internet access in my room. The workout facilities leave a lot to be desired, but it should be sufficient. But anyway, my weekend in Austin was awesome. Congratufuckinglations to Dr. and Mrs. Jamey Dent. Bang up job getting married, kids. The wedding was cathlick, the reception was fun, the nap I took after the reception was a fucking blast. I went out with Brandon and some of his friends. It was so, so good to see Brandon, not, not so good to see his friends. But, we all managed to make it though the weekend being painfully polite to each other. There's a whole sordid inside story to why that I don't feel like getting into. Let's just say his new boyfriend has every reason to hate me.

Beer #2 is now open.

So getting to Cincinnati (or Sin-sin-naughty, as I hope to come to call it) wasn't too bad. Lester took me to the airport and let me park my car at her apartment, so thanks for that, L.Bizzle said D.Fizzle. I scheduled myself a 4 hour layover in Chicago hoping that one of my two friends would be able to meet up with me for a while. Turned out that neither of them could, which was totally cool, I knew that when I scheduled the layover without asking that I was rolling the dice. So I had plenty of time to sit and eat a leisurely (free) dinner and then play Spider Solitaire for 2 hours while listening to John Denver's greatest hits.

My flight from Chicago to Cincinnati wasn't on a big American Airlines plane. It was on a smaller sub-airline, I guess, called American Eagle. I don't know about you, but visions of a flight crew dressed in tattered jeans and board shorts did not instill much confidence. But we made it on one piece with only minor turbulence, and then I masterfully navigated my (upgraded) rental car to my pimpass hotel. The fucking end.

Got a busy couple of weeks ahead of me, but so far I'm rather liking this travel thing. Now, to close, an homage to Drew Carey ... OHIO!!!1!!

I thought I could squeeze a few more aliases out of you, since I was enjoying them so terribly much, but I guess not. If you think of one later, please feel free to share it whenever it comes together.

I couldn't possibly wait to update, though the time that has passed, and the beers that have passed through my urethra since then may convolute the stories. Sorry, was that gross? Anyway, I wanted to let you all know that the Addison Circle is coming together. Premier new members? Namely Miles, Brett Sandy and Todd (although Todd's application is still under geographical review). Then there was Daniel and Kelly (?). They are my neighbors across the street.

So the story. Brett Sandy and I have been wanting to hang out ever since I got back from Sweden and just now decided to carpe the diem and giterdone. He came over under the premise that we would drink and watch movies and see what happened. Well, what happened is that Miles and Todd were enjoying the Dallas Wind Symphony (which ended up being a 5 piece brass band) down in the Circle. We joined them for a bit, listened to the Sousa, and then I went to get some liquor and beer. When we were walking into my apartment to enjoy said booze, we got whistled at. Who does that? There were two boys and a girl sitting on the stoop across the street, so Todd yelled at them, "Which one of ya'll whistled." Well it turned out to be Jordan, who came up to say hello and invite us to come across to join their party at Daniel's. Gay neighbor a stone's throw away? Huzzah.

So we went and drank and chatted and then they brought out the Roor. I'm not sure I can adequately describe the Roor. It was the biggest, most intricate bong ever constructed. I swear to g*d, they all but brought out the welding torch to put this thing together. It had like 3 water reservoirs in it. I've never seen anything like it. This coming from the guy who uses a bong as a flower vase -- and nothing but a flower vase -- go figure.

It's not often that SideshoViD.com delves into the seedy underbelly of drug consumption, and it won't be through my own personal experience that we go there, but we do have to talk a bit about Mr. Sandy. As you might expect, Brett Sandy is SABULOUS. He is both Sandy and gritty. He decided to puff-puff-pass for the first time given the circumstances. The combination of boxed wine, 100% agave tequila, vodka, beer and Mary Jane prooved too much for our fearless partier. Miles and I walked him home around midnight and put him in my bed. We could have just left him alone, but instead decided to interview him on video with Miles' digital camera to hilarious results. Can I get a copy of that, btw, Miles?

We rounded out the night just having a grand old time with about 6 of their friends and it must, must occur again. BUT, first I have to go to Cincinnati for 2 weeks following my trip to Austin this weekend. So I will be gone for 3 weekends in a row. Just as the Circle is rounding out! DAMNIT! I am going to find a hotel that definitely has high speed internet access (so I can work from the hotel room, duh) so I will surely be updating you all from the WONderous land of Ohio. I have a feeling it's the Oklahoma of the north. Ugh. But a change of scenery is a change of scenery. It's time to get horizontal. Peace, bitches.

I think I might need to start a Sleep Files of sorts. This will be last installment in that epic saga for a while. I went to the clinic today. They asked a lot of intelligent questions. They said I definitely need to come back and spend a night in their sleep lab. If anybody wants to go with me, we can totally spoon ... though I'm not sure if that's allowed.

The doctor was also kind enough to point out the two physical features I am probably the most self conscious about (although that term is just relative since I'm not really self conscious). He asked me if I'd ever broken my nose and then seemed to think I was lying to him when I said no. He said I have a deviated septum that could be contributing to my problem. He also commented on my overbite and said that my lower mandible being farther back could be pressing my tongue against the back of my throat as I sleep. Both of these could be corrected with very painful surgery, but I know a thing our two about blindingly painful surgeries, so I'd be willing to go along with it if they thought I needed it. That's kind of a last resort and they're not even sure it would come to that until I complete the sleep test. Still, if I did do that, I'd totally have a cosmetic surgeon come along for the ride to make the pain and suffering and rehabilitation worth it.

That sleep test won't be happening until I return from Cincinnati, though, so we can close this chapter for a while. I was quite tired at my appointment today due to breaking the sleep rules last night to go downtown for a couple glasses of wine with JD. Definitely need to make a habit of that.

Today at work, my body builder coworker delivered my 10 POUND BAG of whey protein that I told him I wanted. I am now supplementing my diet. But seriously, 10 pounds is sooo much more than I thought it was. Picture like a bag of dog food, only completely filled with powder. I laughed so hard when I saw it. It's going to last me well past its 2007 expiration date. So I came home from the workout, drank my shake, and then cleaned Tuna's tank. It was way past due. He seems rather pleased that I finally got around to it. I set him next to the laptop while I was in the bathtub scrubbin his rocks. When I came back out he was surfing around Friendster. Did he add you?

Finally, at lunch today somebody made a mention of an alias. All three of us in rapid succession offered up our aliases, mine being Donovan Blankenship. Then that made me think of Joey and Phoebe being Ken Adams and Regina Philange. And naturally that led me to think about how Allison adopted Fionula Flannigan as hers. Having a cool alias is a MUST. So I ask you, dear viewers, to post your pseudonym here on a comment. And with that, I bid you adieu.

My oldest brother, Michael, who lives in Sacramento is expecting a baby. I think I might have told a lot of you that this one was going to be a boy. This information was based on a sonogram in early July that said there was a 95% chance that it would be a boy. Well, turns out that our little Seabiscuit underdog is actually my third niece. How fun is that? I didn't really have my heart set on it being a boy or a girl, so it just cracks me up that the initial guess was wrong.

Speaking of crack, former Dallas Cowboys goalie and outfielder, Michael Irvin, was working out at my gym today. We happen to be there simultaneously on occasion. He works out while two guys stand beside him screaming encouragement. It's pretty ridiculous. They yell things like, "THROW IT UP! THROW IT UP!" and it makes me want to throw it up.

He asked me for my autograph, but I didn't have a pen.

I got my much desired referral to the sleep clinic, but now I have to go to a consultation with the sleep clinic doctors. That is tomorrow morning. I had to fill out a 13 page questionnaire regarding my sleep habits and symptoms. 2 of those pages were supposed to be filled out by someone who has regularly observed you sleeping. It's been a long, long time since I've had someone who regularly observed me sleeping, so I had to call 27. I actually learned a lot about my little problem when I asked him to 'check all that apply' given a list of symptoms. He said that I have severe problems with:
light snoring, loud snoring, choking, pause in breathing, gasping for air, twitching or kicking of legs, sitting up in bed not awake, getting out of bed not awake, becoming very rigid and/or shaking

That's kind of scary. I really didn't realize it was all that bad. People die from this shit. Wouldn't it be totally funny if I suffocated from sleep apnea the day before I went to the sleep clinic. That would make a great blog. If that happens, somebody take up the reigns.

How come we spell it c-o-n-v-e-r-s-a-t-i-o-n but abbreviate it 'convo'? Shouldn't it be 'conver'?

One last note. Owen mentioned this to me first a while ago but it was down, now it's back up. Everyone, and I mean everyone, go to http://earth.google.com and download Google Earth IMMEDIATELY. It is the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. Especially download it on your work computer because it is amusing for hours and hours and hours.

There is a new name for my 'new' hair-do. It's called the breeze. Ryan Short and I came up with it because it appears as though an invisible breeze is constantly blowing from the right. I'm a big fan of the breeze and plan to take it to extremes that rival my fox hawk experimentation. Tonight I went to a barbeque at Eddie's house with a bunch of peeps. It was decided that I have to crimp my hair. This guy said he would buy me a crimper if I would go out with my hair crimped. I'm going to see if I can get that started. How fucking funny would that be? Very.

I do need to make an appt to have my hair cut before AllieD's wedding. I'm thinking of going platinum, but I'm not entirely sure. I may let Xristofer have the final say since I'm always so damn happy with the results, but I am kind of tired of the dark. I can hide the fact that my blonde hair has grown out blonde highlights, but it's a little bit more obvious with the dark. All I know is that I want it to be so much longer than it is and I am convinced that it has stopped growing. Patience has never been my #1 virtue.

Had a pretty good weekend. Met lots of new neighbors that could be pretty fun. Drank lots and lots of beer. Watched Mr. and Mrs. Smith with no sound (review to follow). All in all, not too shabby. Tomorrow I go to the doctor to get my apnea fixed. I cannot wait. Plus, I'll leave work early. Hurrah!

I'd like to thank you all for coming on such short notice. The reason I called you here is to take care of a few items of business.

First, I will be in Austin (Round Rock) on August 12. I am going to AllieD's wedding, remember? Well then my boss comes to tell me that I will be in Cincinnati for two weeks ... the two weeks that would put that wedding smack dab in the middle. I'm not sure, smack dab may be kind of strong, but in the middle nonetheless. I gave them two options, since I am an uppity little shit. I said they could either pay for me to go to Austin that weekend or delay my trip one week. They opted for the latter. Disaster! Nobody wants to attend a wedding reception and then wake up early the next day to drive three hours and get on a plane. So now, I am going to fly out of Austin on the 14th, the details of which aren't entirely worked out. I'll be on the campus of the University of Cincinnati for two weeks and then I will fly back into Austin. Then I'll party one more weekend in that fair city before I return to Dallas. Should be fun.

Secondly, I made an appointment with a doctor for Monday. I am going to go in and repeat back to him the symptoms of sleep apnea that I read on the internet. Please, it won't be the first time I've lied to a doctor to get what I want. Although, usually that is prescription medication. This time, it will be my golden ticket. You see, in order to go to the sleep clinic that I want to go to, you need a referral from a general practitioner. So I'm going to do what it takes to get that referral. Then I get to go to a sleep clinic and spend the night wired up with electrodes and monitors and shit and they will see that I'm waking up 1,000 times a night. I also know from eye witness accounts that I stop breathing for long periods of time and then gasp for air. It's so sleep apnea; it has to be. We're gonna get that taken care of though, don't you worry.

Those were the two action items I wanted to address today. If anybody knows anyone in or anything about Cincinnati please hit me up. Laaaaaaaaaate.

Every now and then on SideshoViD.com, I bring you pressing social issues and damning political commentary. This is one of those times. I bring you another monumental your-opinion-doesn't-really-matter-all-that-much-but-I'll-ask-it-anyway call to action. There is one thing that is driving me crazy about growing my hair out. It's not the tangles, the frizz, or the constant ironing -- it's the monotony. I am accustomed to radically changing my hair on a nearly daily basis. There was a time not to long ago when I would wake up with red hair, go to class with blue, and fall asleep with green. I can no longer make these drastic changes. And changing which side of my head I part on just isn't getting me off like it used to.

So I bring you the question: to flip or not to flip. It's my new innovation for my hair. Instead of curling everything under in a tidy package, I've started allowing the natural flow of my hair to come through by flipping the left side out. Sometimes drastically. So I want to know what the general public opinion is. 27 used to flip his hair just for me, since he generally hated to do so, into a style I dubbed the "Carol Brady." But I'm not doing both sides, just one. I think it creates a nice movement that has been lacking as of late. If you like the flip, let me know. If not, burn in hell. As always, I'll entertain your opinions, as long as your opinions entertain me.

In other news, my super secret social project that I've cleverly named "The Addison Circle" is slowly but surely coming along. This is where I am going to create my own social circle comprised entirely of people who live north of 635. Tonight I had drinks with Mr. Kenderdine and Matt Lacoste, both of whom live just a stone's throw away from me in Addison Circle. Soon, soon, it will turn from a triangle, to a square, to a pentagon, to a hexagon, to a heptagon, to an octagon, to a nonagon, to a decagon ... and I'm tired of this game, continue on for me in comments if you like ... and eventually approach a circle.

This weekend I went to my first, only, and therefore best, bachelorette party ever. Miss AllieD is getting married in August and came up to Dallas where her maid-of-honor lives to celebrate. It was only natural that she invite me to join. I was rather surprised at how many people were incensed by the fact that I was attending a bachelorette party. Hello? Welcome to 2005. We are adults and we can do whatever the fuck we want.

The night started off with some wine and some Asshole. I was the President the entire time because I rule. Plus, it was kind of my first time in recent memory to play the game, so AllieD gave me some advice that was GOLD, Jerry, GOLD! After that, AllieD, Kelley, Jennifer, Ann Marie and I drove down to Monica's in Deep Ellum. At first, I wasn't too fond of the place. They had a live band playing, but the band was playing SO loud that all conversation was rendered useless. You could sit, eat chips, and smile at each other, that was about it. Then they started up the congo line. If you joined the congo line, as you passed by the front door, they grabbed your head and poured tequila into your mouth. Good tequila. That changed my opinion but quick! Shit, I wouldn't mind prison if they came by periodically while I was digging ditches and poured tequila in my mouth.

From there, it was on to Station 4 for the drag show. Pretty clever, eh? Having a bachelorette party at a gay club. Wrong! There were no less than 6 wedding parties there. So many, in fact, that all the brides-to-be were invited on stage and asked inappropriate questions. AllieD was quite entertaining, though I won't divulge the dirty little secrets she revealed on stage. *WINK*

It really was fun though. I haven't gotten drunk with AllieD in 4eva. The wedding in August should be even more fun. It's in Austin so I'm taking B-randon with me. Before I go, you may be worrying yourself over why I'm blogging at 2pm. No, I didn't get fired yet. My humidifier is coming today, so I'm home to accept the package, and I'm working from home, quote-unquote. I am watching Trigger Happy TV and laughing my ass off. This lady is dressed like a waitress and walking around the city asking people if they want fresh ground pepper. Trust me, it's hilarious. Peace.

UPDATE: My humidifer came and it is FUCKING BROKEN! The fan inside is all effed up and I plugged it in without noticing. A few minutes later, I smelled something acrid, so I went and checked on it and found it billowing smoke. I don't have a hollow hexagonal screw driver to open the thing up, so I'm going to have to ship it back and then wait for another one. FUUUUUUUUUUCCCKCKKKKKCKCCKC!!!!1!

I've had this stupid nagging cough for almost two weeks now. It is really starting to get old. I lay awake at night hacking up a lung and I can't sleep and it's affecting the quality of my life. Before I went to Kaylyn's birthday party, I went to a doctor to make sure I wouldn't get her sick. He said my cough actually wasn't caused by disease but was just a bronchial irritation. I relayed this information to the guys at work and we decided that the sleep rules are actually to blame.

You see, I sleep at 65 degrees every night now. It feels great. But the other thing that cold air does is give up moisture easily. So effectively what I'm really doing is breathing in cold ass, dry ass air all night long and it eventually started to adversely affect me. So I did the only logical thing. I bought a humidifier. It's a really nice humidifier that can control to a set point. So now I'll be livin' at 50% humidity no matter what the temperature is in my apartment. I think it's really important to be totally in control anyway.

But that doesn't arrive until tomorrow. In the meantime I filled a couple of prescriptions that the doctor gave me. One's a pill to like get rid of the inflamation in my chest and the other is ... drum roll please ... cough syrup with codeine! YAY! Sippin' on some sizzurp! This is good news because my last bottle just expired. That should save me some money on alcohol this weekend.

Andy, the old roommate from back in Feb-Apr has been staying with me this week. I took him to my gym a couple of times since he is a personal trainer, fully willing to pay the ridiculous 20 dollar guest fee, but it turns out I get two free guest passes each month. So if anybody ever wants to go with me let me know. I work out 7 days a week now. Did you know that? It's true.

Well, I've just made some delicious chicken breast tacos so I might have to go indulge. Peace out, sluts.

This weekend I went down to Houston for my niece's 1st birthday party. It was pretty fun. She is entirely too cute. Entirely. She really liked the helium filled balloons. In fact, when she saw one, she was ecstatic. When her uncle brought out a bunch of about 40 balloons we literally thought she might explode. I've never heard such primal elation as I did from the squeal that erupted from her lips. Priceless.

The party raged on long after Kaylyn had gone to bed. There was much liquor and beer, but I really hadn't had but one drink by the time I got a text message from a friend asking if I wanted to sneak away. I really did. It wouldn't have been a problem so he said he would call me as soon as he left a party and then we could get together. Around 12:30am I realized he wasn't going to call and I had, once again, been ditched.

I've been thinking about this for a while. This is hardly the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back. This is the straw that kicked the camel while he was already dead because you couldn't teach him a new trick to drink water squeezed from a turnip. If you want to know the truth, I get ditched, dodged, or stood up about 2 or 3 times a week. Anytime I make plans with someone, my faith that they will actually call or come wanes every single time my pessimism is proven correct. First, I thought maybe it was because I was relying too heavily on others to remember. But after a significant number of unanswered phone calls, unheard voicemails, unread text messages and ignored IMs, I decided that wasn't the problem.

But, it is indeed my fault. I've 180ed so drastically from the angry little shit I used to be that I've actually overcompensated into an equally undesirable extreme. Nothing bothers me. Nothing. It doesn't matter what you do to me, I will be over it forgiven and forgotten before you can say "taken advantage of." I thought what I was doing was being a really nice guy, always understanding, never quick to anger. Instead what I've realized I did was effectively lower the standard of friends that I have. You know that if you leave me hanging, the next time you see me, I probably won't even mention it. In this persistent pattern I have become responsible for the unreliability of those around me.

And I apologize. I promise it won't happen anymore.

My mom is in the process of cleaning out the upstairs of her house. This involves giving me boat loads of crap from my past every time she sees me. The other day I became the proud owner of a stack of old papers written by yours truly, the greatest writer ever. Actually, some of it is pretty bad, as you might expect from a 3rd to an 8th grader, but I just came across something that absolutely cracked me up.

I found my stunning epic novel entitled John and the Little People. I wrote it in the third grade and it is bound and fully illustrated -- pretty pimp. The funny thing is that this story perfectly parallels Gulliver's Travels. In fact, I vividly remember plagerizing what I did not know at the time was one of the most well known stories ever told. Why nobody ever called me out on it, I will never know. It's hardly the lesson to teach an 8 year old that blatant copying will go unpunished. My favorite sentence in the whole book:

"He soon found out that he wasn't paralyzed; he was tied down by tiny, strong cords!"

Ha! I used a semi-colon in the 3rd damn grade. Half of you skeezes couldn't do that now.

My report on The Killer Angels from 8th grade was lackluster, to say the least, even though Wenger gave me a 94 ... something I don't recall happening all that often. My poetic skillz back in '91 leave a lot to be desired. I know my pen pal letter to a kid in Columbia was a written assignment, but why I chose to tell him that I watch Hometime every day after school and my favorite episode is the one where they put up tile-backer is beyond me.

The other strange thing is the papers written about my brother, Stephen. There are many. I have one nicely typed biography of him that details his philanthropic misadventures that ends, "The less fortunate and the well-to-do have both benefitted from him, even if I never have." Another paper details how he always has the remote control. One annoying thing he does is taking control of the TV. The first words out of his mouth when we get home are, "I get control!" He then flips though all 99 channels. Of course, we only have less than 60. Then he goes to the B channels. He stops on stuff like church preachers and faith healers. Then we have to watch channel 12B. It is the twenty-four hour fish network. It shows different fish tanks and changes every 15 minutes. We always have to see it change. Then he goes back to A channels to 3. USA has Night Rider on twice in a row after school. That's OK but it takes us 15 minutes to get there. They never should have let me pass 8th grade. I turned this shit in!

I am laughing my ballz off at this stuff. One more description (moreso for my brother than any of you) and then I'm done. The last paper I failed. It was supposed to be a compare/contrast but all I do is slam Stephen throughout it. Because he's 16, he can drive. My parents take advantage of that and make him pick me up from school. He has the loudest, highest pitched, most annoying horn ever. He loves to lay it on when he gets me at the corner. People inside Wilson can hear it. At Christmas, he would play the first seven notes of Jingle Bells. I yell at him every day and then he hits me. I go on to explain that I cannot hit him back since he's driving. Even though most of the time, I remember doing the steering. He thinks he knows everything because he is in the eleventh grade. He always tries to give me advice on things I don't need advice on. I know when next year comes, he is going to want to help me pick classes. Hahaha.

Then I contrast that with how we like the same TV shows, again mentioning Hometime. Then: We like to play baseball in our backyard. We play with a whiffle bat and tennis balls. We have about 120 tennis balls because my mom takes rejects from Plano Tennis Organization or something. We hit them over the neighbors' fence and the husband gets peeved at us. Homerun Derby was always so much fun. My favorite line from the paper is, "I don't like him to think he's all bad because he's taller than me." Who writes like that on an English paper? Well, I mean, I do ... I guess I did all the way through college. Now check out this conclusion: I guess having an older brother with you through life isn't all that bad. I might even miss him when he kicks the bucket. I'll be old by then and probably senile so I won't even know or care, come to think of it.

Shazzam! I hope some of you might have found some amusement in that. I am going to see Stephen on Saturday morning. Sunday is my niece Kaylyn's 1st birthday and she is hosting a kegger. It should be really fun. I got her ultra cute presents. Alright, literature lovers, it is time for me to retire.

I decided to stay home tonight for a couple different reasons. First, I just had such a riotous time on Wednesday that I wasn't exactly itching to go out on Friday. Secondly, I'm broke as a joke. I had to take money out of the untouchable savings this pay period to last me until the next. Don't worry though, I've already scheduled to have it automatically repay the amount that I borrowed. So I sat home and watched TV and nestled down with a big bottle of wine... the worst wine I have ever tasted. I am now on my third glass and it is still nearly unbearable.

The show of the night was Will & Grace. It was the episode where they've lost their ho-mojo and can no longer dominate game night with their friends. It reminded me so much of when Ryan and Todd and I would host Pictionary nights at the Green Monster and how much I fucking rule at Pictionary and I felt obliged to share this with you all.

I have one prime example for you all that I will never forget. It was when Fucking Frank was my partner and we were a good half of the board ahead of everyone else. We were unstoppable ... why, I may never understand. We had a sixth, or maybe even a seventh, sense about the clues. This particular round was an All-Play. That means that every team was drawing the same clue trying to win control of the board. I wasn't too concerned since we were the champions of All-Play, but this was really stumping everybody else. They were drawing things like I've demonstrated thus far. People were guessing frantically -- everything from "jailbird" to "Nike." Frank took his time, and I sat silently waiting for him to finish his drawing. (If this story seems drawn out its mostly because I have to put enough words in between the pictures to space them out.) Anyway, it wasn't long before he drew this:

And I immediately guessed, "The Fugitive!" after which we high fived and rolled the dice. It's ridiculous how good I am at Pictionary.

Before we begin -- everyone did realize that all of those people in the picture from yesterday were also celebrating their birthdays, right? Right? I've had a few people who thought I just threw together random celebrities and my friend Kevin to make myself a birthday poster or something. Sometimes I overestimate you people.

Speaking of overestimation ... my birthday. Good things first. Started getting phone calls, text messages, IMs and comments on my webpage and myspace starting at midnight and continuing throughout the day. I was pleasantly surprised by how many people remembered (my constant reminders having very little to do with it I'm sure). So thank you to everybody who made me feel special yesterday.

Great birthday. About the birthnight, though.... I won't use any names because nobody especially did anything wrong, it was just the sheer number of people who crapped out on me that it almost reduced me to putting on pajamas and taking 24 tequila shots in bed. I had people tell me they were tired. I had people tell me they had no money. I had people just say, 'Noooooo I'm not going out.' Somebody said they couldn't go and then called back and said, 'My other friend just invited me out so now I'm going.' Some people did just the opposite fervently promising to make an appearance only to call and say they'd changed their minds. Those are the ones that did call, some just never showed. Some people wouldn't even answer their phones or return text messages and voicemails. Talk about demoralizing.

Birthdays are just about my favorite thing in life. It's just such a perfect thing to celebrate. It's one day of the year that is uniquely yours despite the fact that you probably share it with 1/365th of the world. I have always bent over backwards to make sure my friends have good birthdays. I've dropped hundreds of dollars on gifts and parties and booze. I've gone out even when I'm tired, even when I'm poor, even when I have to work the next day. And I don't do it because I expect a reward in return; I do it because I truly enjoy it. I just thought given the circumstances that at least one of my friends might do the same for me. Apparently I was wrong.

Ooooor was I? Enter knights in shining armor. Haggerty and his boyfriend Sean, who had not planned on venturing out last night, but upon hearing that it was my birthday decided to go, and ultimately take me out. I had so much fun with them. The belt was scrolling "ITS MAH BIRFDAY" all night long. I met Rocky who was also celebrating his 24th birthday. How fun is that? Drank a lot. A lot. I spent the night on Hag's couch and woke up deliciously hungover around 1:00 to drive home. I took this whole day off from work, which is so fun. I gotta skip work more often.

So all in all, I would put this one in the win column. This blog seriously just took me nearly 6 hours to write. I have been falling asleep periodically all day long. Best day ever. Czech you skillets later.

Well hello there, everybody. This is Sidesho reporting to you live from Ryan Short's fabulously newly painted apartment ... oh, and also drunk as hail. He was supposed to wake up and drink more with me when I got home but that has proven unpossible. Me fail English?

So tonight I had planned on going out on account that I do not have to work tomorrow. RAWK! But then, lo and behold, I get a call from the callbox of my apartment and it is JennyCole and her mother. They had been at the Kaboom Town hoopla hosted by my gracious landlord and wanted to cool off. Okay, no problem. But then they managed to convince me to join them for the fireworks. More and more, as the years pass, I have found myself less and less interested in the traditional festivities dictacted by every holiday. I couldn't have cared less whether or not I saw fireworks. (Although fireworks do hold a special place in my heart since when I was little my parents used to tell me that the fireworks were in honor of my birthday.) So, I find myself on the top floor of a parking garage watching fireworks. In their defense, it was the best finale I have ever seen in my life. Probably 5 fireworks a second for about 5 minutes. RAD!

After that, we eat at a piss-poor restaurant inside Addison Circle and then I go home. Turns out, every fucking road in Addison is a parking lot. At this point, I've resolved myself to not go out, on account that I cannot leave the parking garage. A few IMs with Ryan Short later, I am on the road bound for downtown Dallas. It was rigoddamndiculous getting to the Tollway, but when I finally did, we were en route to JRs. Keith and Lauren and some girl named Katie that I met for the first time tonight (?) joined us. I managed to get drunk as hail between 12:30 and 2:00am. But that couldn't possibly be enough for me, right? Right?!

So I took Ryan Short home to his beatiful and newly painted apartment and proceeded to drink some more when disaster struck. We are out of cigarettes! Unacceptable when plastered. So he goes to bed and I walk my happy ass to the 24-7 Wally Mart nearby to get some. I talked to my lover Marshall the whole way there. That was fun since I haven't talked to him in 4-eva, and he claims to have blonde hair now. So anyway, I bought some squares, as Joseph would call them, and then walked home to find Ryan - surprise - passed the fuck out and me drinking alone.

So there we are. By my records, I have made zero grammatical mistakes. You're more than welcome to double check that assertion. You'll notice that when I'm drunk I just ramble; I don't skimp on the important stuff. Please don't forget that my birthday is on Wednesday. No one that I know of has made any plans for me, so I think I'm going to take Thursday off of work and go out Wednesday with Andrew. I'll definitely keep you all posted on that. Later sk8ers!

I just got done wiring up my new programmable thermostat in my apartment. I know it's not like me to do shit ... but I did! I took the old ghetto Johnson Controls (blech) mechanical thing off the wall, like the one we all have. Then I unwired it, removed the baseplate, replaced it with my baseplate, rewired everything, found some batteries for the display, mounted it, programmed it ... we are in business my friends. No longer will I accidentally leave my apartment at a frosty 65 degrees while I'm away at work.

Speaking of Frosty, I got my pictures back from Cameron Frost a while ago. I didn't really make a hoopla about it or really show them to many people. It's not that I didn't like them, quite the opposite, in fact. I like them a great deal. I just don't care what anybody else's opinion on them is. But, I have gotten lots of requests recently, so to satiate the insane lust for all things Sidesho, I've decided to post you one picture here to look at. I know, it's sex. You don't have to tell me.

Dear Justin, Thank you for my belt. I have never felt like more of a rockstar than this weekend when I got to wear it out and hang out with you at the same time. Dear everyone else, this belt was revolutionary. It's blue LEDs that scroll messages across your crotch. Mine said "JUSTIN GAVE ME THIS!" "THIS IS SO TRASHY!!1!" "BUY ME A DRINK" "BLING! BLING!" and then had some scrolling hearts. But the best message was my phone number. I got a lot of laughs for it, but only two phone calls the whole night. All in all it was a major hit, and while I'm not gonna Sean-Wardle the thing, I think I won't retire it as diligently as I often do with kickass articles of clothing. We shall see.

Dear Allison, I'm sorry that I'm not coming to see you next month. I know we had joked about which one of us would flake out first, but I just wanted you to know that my delaying of the trip is entirely financial. I had really been looking forward to seeing you. In fact, I can proove it. I was so stoked about getting to hang out with you, that I devised a little gift-of-sorts. For the past 3 months I did not shave my upper lip. I kept my chin trimmed and the sides of my face shorn into something I dubbed the "three-tier beard," but the stache just grew and grew. You see, I thought it would be really funny if after having not seen me since January, I stepped off the airplane to greet you with the biggest, bushiest, best mustache I have ever grown in my life. It was heart wrenching to finally shave it off, but I just couldn't keep it going until February. So, dear Allison ... enjoy:

Since I've been back to working in the office every day, I've also started tanning again. The salon I go to is kind of far from my apartment, but it's right on the way home from work. I know nobody will ever notice except for me, but it's really starting to work. It's a subtle change from sickly pale to really pale, but it does wonders for my self esteem. I like knowing that I'm getting tanner. Not like Danny Tanner, but maybe like DJ Tanner.

Long ago when I lived with Keith he told me what I still consider to be one of the funniest things ever said. He was going to get a turn table, learn how to spin, and then call himself DJ Tanner. And I would join him up on stage under my psuedonym, DJ Connor. Wouldn't everyone in the world come to see us? And the flyer design would be obvious.

I didn't end up having that party this weekend. Hudler's parents went out of town and he couldn't leave his dog alone overnight. I'm not sure what that's all about but we had to reschedule. Instead, I hung out with Thommi who came to visit me. We did the normal weekend of window shopping and drinking. I got crabs.

Thommi got popcorn shrimp.

Is it weird that after I get done tanning, the smell eminating from my skin makes me hungry? Somebody back me up on this one.

I got carded on the way home buying cigarettes at the discount tobacco store, and then the old Indian man went on like a 5 minute explanation of how I have a baby face and that means that I am a good person inside because a good person's features never change. I was like, "Thanks, Vishnu, can I have my smokes now?"

So I've decided to push back my Australia trip to July 7th through the 15th. That means that I will be here on July 4th and my birthday July 6th. Tomorrow is Justin's birthday, HAPPY BIRTHDAY JUSTIN. Hurry up and come to Dallas and bring me my belt. I saw a chick in a bar wearing one, and I simply must be the first to have one in my social circle or else the novelty will wear off.

This Saturday Ryan and Todd are coming over from Arlington to play drinking games with me. Thommi might come up. Lesbie Ann might come. I'm going to invite Will and Lindsay too to make it a royal college reunion. Ryan Short is bringing Robert and I'm going to see if Lil Jarrod wants to come. Party at the 735 square feet of fun! Damnit, now I have to clean. Anyway, if you want to come, let me know.

I almost forgot, today at work I switched my keyboard to Dvorak. I'll let you all know how that works out for me.

Nothing else to report. My days blend into each other as I drudge through the monotony of a job well done. Czech you skillets later.

So I wake in the morning and I step outside and I take a deep breath and I get real high and I scream from the top of my lungs, "What's goin' on?" g*d, remember what a kickass song that was? Well, I'm not blonde anymore ... not entirely anyway. The whole perimeter of my hairline is dark brown and then the top is a more muted blonde with some of the dark weaved in. I absolutely love it. I went to see Xristopher on a whim and told him to surprise me. It's nice to have someone that you can say that to and know that the surprise will be good. I always walk out of Pompeo looking like a rawkstar. And I went out that night, naturally, and got a million compliments from friends and strangers, so that always makes it worth while.

I worked from home all last week. I know you all think that means that I didn't work, but you're wrong. I got a lot done. But I did massage my schedule just a bit. You see, Cameron Frost ended up extending his stay through Thursday. We went bowling one night ... I've got to start bowling more. I sucked it up at the bowling alley. Kevin, you would be ashamed of me. I could NOT get a strike, I kept getting 9. So after the game was over and there were like 3 minutes left on our lane, I would attempt a strike, fail, and then Cameron Frost would go for the spare. All this as fast as we possibly could, allowing me another 4 or 5 attempts at a strike, none of which were successful. How depressing.

To clarify this next portion, you would have to know that Cameron Frost is a photographer out in L.A. He does really nice work, too. You can check out some of his folio at www.cameronfrost.com. Pretty cool, huh? So when I got an email from him asking if I would like to do a photoshoot I was understandably excited and flattered. But my hair! It was an overgrown tangled mess. So I called Xristopher and made an appointment to have it fixed. We went out to the strip that night and had a b-last. The next day I went and picked up Cameron Frost and we came back to my apartment. We sat and chatted for a while while he enjoyed his last Sonic burger (a delicacy that is apparently unavailable in L.A.). Then we picked out an outfit and got to shooting. I never in a million years thought I would be a model-of-sorts in an hours-long photoshoot. Definitely a selfesteem boost. I haven't seen any of the pictures yet, but I already feel beautiful.

The rest of the day we hung out with Hag and Junior and then said our fare-thee-wells to Cameron Frost. I was sad to see him go. It's so rare that you hit it off so well with someone so instantly. It reminded me of hanging out with Chris Apollo in Berlin. Maybe there's not anything wrong with me like I was beginning to assume. Maybe I'm just in the wrong city. Cameron Frost is moving to Copenhagen for a few months and I am so jealous. He'll be a 15 minute train ride from where I was staying in Malmo. I still wish I was there. But my life is here, for the time being, and the next few years.

So there you have it, that's what I've been up to. My question to you is: When is the last time you did something you've never done before? If you can't think of one, then it's time to get crazy with the Cheeze Wiz. Laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaate.

My brother went to some flea market in Humble and found a vendor with a bunch of belt buckles. When he saw this one, he thought of me and bought it for me. Luckily I still have my old cowboy belt to slap it onto and I wore it out on Friday. I called Stephen to tell him I was pimpin' the van buckle but that I couldn't tuck my shirt in or else I'd look stupid. He said, "Then just tell your friends about it when you see them and show them." The first thing I did when I got to Ryan Short's apartment was lift up my shirt and say, "Did you see my belt buckle?" and when he started laughing, I followed it up with, "Idn't that wild? You ever seen anything like dat?" Wouldn't you know, I ended up saying that to everyone I saw on Friday ... and Saturday. Idn't that funny how alcohol can bring out the obnoxious catch phrases that are living inside you, dying to get out? Idn't that wild? I just wanted Steve to know that I do like the belt buckle and I definitely did make sure everyone saw it.

The other thing I wanted to show you was my new Beethoven bust. When we were in Wisconsin we went to my grandmother's old house and were invited to loot anything we wanted. This had been on her piano for many, many, many years. I just knew it would look awesome on my shelves in my living room. I think I was right. It adds just a touch of class. This morning I got a productivity bug (also known as a hangover) and decided to touch up the red paint in my living room that I originally put on the wall months ago. Now all the edges are cleeeeaaaan. I still have to do my entire bedroom, but I just never got around to it. I will probably do that in the coming days. Well, that's enough for the picture pages. Hope you enjoyed your visit to my apartment (and my crotch).

I was just talking to Allistralian and I remembered a story I totally forgot to tell you all. I was sitting in a hotel room in Oshkosh, WI watching TV with my mom, my brother-in-law Bryan, and sister-in-law Krouton. There was nothing particularly good on (except the old school Saturday Night Live hosted by Pee Wee Hermann with musical guest some-crappy-zydeco-band) so we were flipping. As my mom breezed by TLC, I saw the logo for Sheer Dallas and made her stop.

As I explained the premise of the show, they announced that the stylists were going to pair up for a big hair contest. It was a radio announcement I knew all too well, since I was in Pompeo, the salon, when it happened. I mentioned that this was where I got my hair done, although I refused to tell my mother just how much my haircut had actually cost. About halfway through the show, I said, "Hey, there's Xristopher, my stylist!" And a few seconds later ... you guessed it! ... BAM, a full head shot of yours truly. I was on TLC for 3 glorious seconds, sitting in a chair with a head full of foil. It was one of the proudest moments of my life. If anybody else happened to witness the blessed event, do be sure to let me know.

Next order of business, I went and saw Star Wars III: Revenge of the Sith tonight. I was gonna put it on my movie reviews, but I thought it was deserving of blog status. This movie was so badass. If you're a Star Wars fan at all, you're going to love it. If not, you'll still probably love it. There were so many badass elements to it, but my favorite was at the end. Before you whine and bitch, we all know what happens at the end, so I'm not ruining the movie. That'd be like me telling you the Titanic sinks. But when Darth Vader walks into the ship with the Emperor, they made it look exactly like Episode IV. They didn't revamp it at all. All the computers had ridiculously large, square LEDs that serve no purpose and all the dudes in there were wearing the old skool military uniforms. Love it. Go see it and let me know what you think.

To tie it all together, I think on my next haircut, scheduled for sometime in late June, I might go towards the dark side.

BUM BUM BUM BUMBA DUM BUMBA DUM

This past weekend, I was in beautiful Oshkosh, Wisconsin for the Fisher Family Reunion. We had matching T-shirts and everything. I was there from Friday afternoon until Sunday afternoon. Rather than say anything negative about my own flesh and blood, I'd like to recount some of the highlights of my weekend.

By far the best part of it was my immediate family all getting together. It was the first time that all 11 of us had been together (the 11 being comprised of the 6 in my original family, 3 spouses, and two nieces). The big news of the weekend? Pretty soon it'll be 12. My brother Michael told us all that his wife, Krouton, is pregnant. This'll be their first baby and my third niecephew. So exciting.

My two existing nieces could not be any cuter. Ann Marie finally let me hold her for any period of time without screaming bloody murder. We got to hang out quite a bit. Kaylyn is absolutely hilarious. She's to the age where she's almost walking and almost talking. She really likes kitties and puppies. I think for her birthday in July, I'll get her 3 of each. And a drumset.

The reunion was alright. I didn't remember everybody's names, which was a tad embarassing. But I got to see my grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins and the newest generation of great-grand children. There were some interesting characters that have managed to marry their way into my lineage. The best part was ... all blonde hair, all blue eyes. It's like the Children of the Corn.

And I'm still single, so if you wanna get in on this, I'm your last chance. HA!

I normally don't talk about work on my webpage, mostly because I do NOT want to get dooced. But I think these observations are fairly harmless. I decided to "steal" "Owen's" style of blogging and put some figure numbers on my images. Then after I was done with the tedious photoshopping of each image, I changed my mind on the order. So fuck off if you can't get past the point that my figures are out of order (although if I was my TA, I'd give me a zero on this blog just for that). These are just a couple of things that I find really amusing on construction sites that most of my readers will never see because you're not construction workers like me!

You know how there are electrical boxes like everywhere behind the scenes of a building? Well, there are. I've illustrated it here in our first picture, Figure 4, so you could know what I was talking about. When each of those metal pipes is connected to the box, a hole has to be drilled in the outer casing. The diameter of these pipes is roughly that of a quarter. So here is my advice to you the next time you are on a job site. Don't pick up the little silver circles left behind by this drilling. And whatever you do, DON'T yell, "Hey, I found a quarter! Is it on heads?!" and then pick one up.

Okay, now onto the topic that I'm really excited to try and explain. There are pipes that take hot and cold water from the boiler and chiller (respectively) all throughout the building. Air is then blown across a coil of pipes containing this water to either heat or cool the air (respectively). It is then blown into the room and all the fat teachers in menopause bitch that it's always too hot or cold (disrespectfully). These pipes have to be insulated, naturally. After a foam insulation is wrapped around the pipe, it is usually finished off with a PVC coating like the one shown in Figure 1. There are just pieces layin around all over the job site. And every day, I have to fight, fight, fight the insatiable urge to put these pieces on my body like a Storm Trooper. They would be soooo perfect. Just to prove my point, check out Figure 2 where I actually found a nerd on the internet that shows you the pieces you need to be a Storm Trooper. Can you imagine how cool I would be if I came out of the chiller plant dressed up like Figure 3? Not only would I not need a hard hat and safety glasses ... but I could sleep standing up and no one would be the wiser. Thanks for bearing with me while I explained these very technical ideas that came to me as I wasted away on a job site. Laaaaaaaaaaate.

When I first heard the big news, I was like, "Backstreet's back?... Alright."

The last two nights I have gone out on the town with Mr. Sean Wardle and both nights have lead us on the meandering path of alcoholic revelry. Friday, I went to happy hour right after work, and I went to bed around 5am, which constituted 12 hours of consistent drinking. I am such a hoss. And I had the hangover to prove it. Sitting in my apartment with a pounding head and aching stomach, and nothing to assuage the pain, I did the only logical thing -- I got on Albertsons.com and delivered some groceries. Now I have more varieties of juice than you can shake a stick at ... and you can sure shake a stick at a lot of juice.

Last night was really the piece de resistance, Sean's swansong, if you will. The club was a blast; I sure am going to miss Sean when he moves back to Idaho-no-youdaho. We mostly just sat in the Rose Room and watched the drag show. The real fun was when we finally left the club as Sean begged me to take him to Whataburger (as if 6 taquitos the night before were not enough). I really just wanted to head straight home. We really didn't even have to compromise as the solution to the situation presented itself in the form of the hot dog vendor on Cedar Springs. I was his very first credit card transaction lo those months ago, and he has always remembered me and talked to me every time I am around.

We proceeded to consume 8 hotdogs amongst myself, Sean, and Ryan Haggerty. Sean was by far the champion, setting a new record of consuming 4 hot dogs and a bag of chips. I came in a close second with 3 and a bag of cookies. I had my camera with me so I was able to document the triumphant ingestion of Sean's 4th fucking hotdog. The picture came out so damn cute that I just wanna print it out and get a kitchy frame for it and put it next to my bed. Okay, I'm never really gonna do that, so I photoshopped it all for you so you wouldn't have to use your imaginations. Cue the music, "Meeeeemories...."

Today the groceries arrived, so I've been chowing down on yogurt (mmm, not even later, it's the kind with fruit on the bottom), cottage cheese, and juice. Today is my mommy's birthday and I get to go to dinner with her and my daddy ... did somebody say steak? More on that, after these messages....

I arrived in Paris late, and feeling a tad under the weather. I'm not sure if it was the travelling, it being the end of a long week, or perhaps the hangover that was beginning to fester, but I felt like crap. I had written the address of my hotel on a piece of paper as one website suggested since none of the cab drivers speak English there. I managed to make it into my room around 10pm.

All I wanted to do was go to bed, but first I forced myself to walk out and get a picture of the Eiffel Tower all lit up at night. Then I took a shower and fell asleep. I was a tad obsessed with the Eiffel, I took about 30 pictures of it from various angles and times. Maybe because it's so phallic, I don't know. But that was the only thing I really wanted to see in Paris.

The next day I didn't feel much better but I thought a brisk walk might help, so off I went to the Eiffel. There were long, long lines waiting to go up each of the four elevators so I nixed that from my plans. Instead I walked up to the Arc de Triumph and snapped a picture. I'm such a horrible tourist. All I could think is that it looked exactly like the pictures I'd seen. I felt nothing toward it. This, coupled with feeling like crap, had forced me to a new low. I couldn't even appreciate history, I didn't need to be there, I should just go home.

But before I did I walked down a street with a bunch of people on it. Hello?! Shopping! I bought some really cool, really Euro stuff. And then I felt much better. I knew the key to happiness was dropping a few hundred Euro. I can't wait to debut it all here. It was like my favorite store here in Dallas: Source Paris, only like one after another after another after another. I was in heaven.

That's really all I did in Paris was take pictures of the Eiffel, walk around briskly, and shop. I found stereotypes about the French to generally be true. Waiting in line for McDonald's this woman shoved me out of the way and then stood in line in front of me. Whathefuck? And the receptionist at the hotel was a fucking bitch. Some guy came in around 11 to check in and she said, "Check in is at 2pm, Aur Revoir!" And he was like, "Well could I just leave my bags or ..." She turns and says louder, "Aur Revoir!" and then turns away. I was like omega I would fucking slam her face against the desk if she did that to me.

I was all too happy to leave Paris. It's a big stinky city full of rude people. But I do love the Eiffel. I liked sitting and eating lunch in its shadow just like I've always wanted to do. I also took a long walk along the Seine, another thing I've always wanted to do. And why? Duh, because I want my life to be like an ABBA lyric:

I've decided to kind of split up the next few blogs into a few different entries. If I were to try and tell you all about my week in one, it would be far, far too long. I'll try to do it in under 5 though, so they can all remain on the main page. Hopefully you've scrolled to the end so you can read them in order.

So Thursday night we decided to treat ourselves to a last-night-in-Malmo type of party. Keith and I went to the Pickwick, the only pub we found that had a true "Happy Hour" as we understand it. I brought my camera with me because I had failed to take a single picture the entire two weeks. I felt so stupid stopping and taking pictures of stuff we'd passed a hundred times before. There is nothing to transform yourself into the perfect tourist like a few Heine pints. We were snapping pictures of everything and everyone and laughing our asses off. So now it's time for dinner.

We would meet Paul the Englishman and the Dweeb in the lobby every night at 7 before we walked to dinner. So around 7 Paul comes down before the Dweeb and we all kind of looked at each other and at the same time said, "Let's go!" Well, really, Paul said, "Shall we?" but same idea. We decided that for our last meal we would enjoy some free time from the Dweeb and it was a great time. We had many more beers with dinner before heading to our favorite little Irish pub for some darts. I was so on fire the first round. They were both like, "Damn, you did learn a lot the other night." But trust me, friends, as the time went on and the beers went down, I started having trouble even hitting the fucking board. It was getting sad so I had to excuse myself.

The next day I was so hungover and tired. I was pretty much just blatantly sleeping at my desk without trying to hide it. What were they gonna do about it? Around 2 I split a cab with Paul the Englishman and we went to the Copenhagen airport at Kastrup. We said our goodbyes and split ways to find our gates. I had a couple hours to kill so I decided to exchange some money into Euros when a familiar voice said, "Better yet, why don't you waste those Kroner on pints?" Oh, Paul the Englishman! He'd found me as we both waited for our flights so we sat and got drunk one last time. It was pretty good for my nerves because I had no fucking idea what I was doing or why. Just going to Paris for the fuck of it. Tres not my style. So off I went into the great unknown. I still miss Sweden, but as you'll see ... it was not the best part of my vacation afterall....

For once, I am going to make good on a future-blog promise and tell you all about the dweeb we are here with. He has a lot of names, actually. Dweeb, Poindexter, Imp, and Alfred E. Newman. I wasn't aware of this fact, but apparently Alfred E. Newman is the name of the character on the front of MAD Magazine. This kid looks EXACTLY like him; I'm so not even kidding. Buckteeth, big ears, and stupid butt-cut hairdo. Normally I wouldn't make fun of someone for the way they look, but after two weeks, this kid is on my last fucking nerve. And you all know what a nice guy I am. Right? ... Right? Fuck you.

Everything I describe is probably going to sound really petty, but it's just one of those things where it wears on you and wears on you until he can do no right. I find myself disagreeing what whatever he says, just for the sake of disagreeing. So far on this trip, we have been doing a lot of drinking. I mean a lot of drinking, and yet, I have only been drunk once (Friday night). They just have a wealth of great beers and we've been stopping into a pub to enjoy a beer or two with Paul the Englishman. We knew we were in trouble the first night when Poindexter ordered water at the bar. "I'm not much of a drinker." He stared as us the entire time we were there until he finally excused himself early. He does that every night now, always in bed by 8. What a waste of a vacation. "Fancy that," Paul said, "Not even being able to enjoy one beer when he's in a pub."

We've made sure everyone here knows he's not a typical American. "He's not a typical anything," seems to be the common response. So he don't drink, he don't smoke, and he goes to bed early every night. Aight, whatever. He'd also never played pool before in his life. Now I'm no pool shark. Being as I grew up with a table maybe I should be, but I still warn people before I play them that I am "no good." So when he warned us he was "no good" I thought he meant he would miss some of the long shots, or suck at banking, or not really know how to use English on the cue ball. HA! If he knew HOW TO USE THE CUE BALL. This fool steps up to the table, grabs the cue stick about halfway down the shaft leaving a huge dead weight behind him he can barely control and takes aim at the 12 ball. Unfathomable. No matter how bad you are, you should at least know to hit the white ball.

Aight, whatev. Maybe biljards aren't his thing. So we play darts another night. Kid has never thrown a dart in his life nor does he have any concept of how to play. Incidentally, I am pretty good at darts now after playing almost every night with Keith and Paul. The other night we were at our favorite little bar here and this guy came in and asked if maybe he could play with us on teams. Sure, what the hell. This dude ends up being ranked like #8 in all of Scandinavia. It was the most incredible thing I've ever seen. We were playing cricket and he would close out like 3 numbers each turn. The guy could tell you where his dart was gonna go and it would go there. I can tell you which quadrant of the board I'll land in, not much more. Keith and Paul headed back to the hotel but I wanted to play more darts so I stayed out late learning from this guy. I improved my game like 100 fold. I was nailing 1 or 2 triple 20's every throw. It was fun.

This is going to be the longest blog ever. Bear with me. So now he's not much of a drinker, not much of a smoker, not much of a pool player, and not much of a darts player. These are starting to add up. But I guess that's cool that he likes to be responsible during the week. That's understandable. The weekends, though, that's when the fun begins. Foreign country, dude! What happens in Sverige, stays in Sverige, right? There's a casino here that I suggested maybe we could check out. Unfortunately, he's "not much of a gambler." Good fuckin' xrist. So I invited him out to Étage with me. He's "not much of a club goer." On Monday when he asked me how my weekend was I said, "Omega, crazy fun. You?" "Well... I don't know how crazy it was [ed: all condescending like] but I saw some parks and canals and really interesting stuff." The only thing homeboy did all weekend was walk around town like we've done a thousand times before. The parks are just empty squares scattered around town, and the canal is just a canal. Nothing to see there.

I don't care if somebody is a nerd, though, as long as they're cool. This guy is nothing of the sort. We went out pretty late on Thursday and that Friday I was a little late to breakfast, a little achy, and a little dehydrated and he says to me, "Heh, that's what you get for starting your weekend on Thursday," a reference to my earlier description of how often I drink which goes: "Monday is Funday, Tuesday is Boozeday, Wednesday is Humpday and Thursday starts the weekend!" If my head hadn't been swimming, I would have jumped over the table and beat him. Then the other day walking back from lunch, Keith and I were enjoying our post-meal cigarettes. He gets this smirk on his face. That's how you can tell he's about to say something that will inevitably be fucking stupid, but he thinks it's clever. He turns to us and says, "You know, I hear that lung cancer is a painful way to die." And I said, "You know, I hear running your fucking mouth is a painful way to die." ... Okay, I didn't say that but I did think of it later.

The four of us go to dinner together every night. It's the most painful part of the day because we have to sit there with the dweeb. He is such a conversation killer. Anything we talk about he kills by saying something retarded, so we generally eat in silence waiting for him to go back to the hotel and then we talk about our days. And we've all kind of taken a turn picking up the tab. We are expensing our meals so it's all free, and if you pick up the tab for a co-worker, that can go under entertainment expenses. And since the only things we really have to talk about are work-related, that's totally kosher. And since I've only paid for dinner about every third night, accounting will certainly notice that I've had my tab picked up other people enough to further justify my reciprocation. Right now you should be thinking to yourself, every third night? Didn't you say there were four of you?" Man, I can't get anything by you. Poindexter refuses to pick up a tab. We started noticing the pattern after the first week and talked about it after he left. We agreed he was OBVIOUSLY the most socially inept person alive so he probably didn't realize he needed to pick one up. So we blatantly said, "Alright dude, it's your turn tonight." And he refused!

He is afraid that he won't be able to expense it since it's entertainment, although I suspect he just has moral conflicts with paying for beer. But still, come on, we all work for the same fucking company, they WILL reimburse it. Especially if you haven't paid for a since dinner yet since you've been to Sweden. g*d, this kid pisses me off. He's just one of those people that when you catch him looking at you, you just kinda wanna smash his face in. But you don't because you are a pacifist.

You should see him at breakfast. It's one of the oddest things I've ever seen. Dude will get about 12 slices of bread ... all different kinds. And he'll proceed to eat them... dry... with nothing to drink. And when he's done with that, he gets up and gets a bowl full of this granola-nut-muesli cluster concoction. It's very hearty, European cereal. He proceeds to eat the whole bowl ... dry. I like it just fine, but I soak mine with milk for a while before I eat it or else I just feel like a horse. And when he's done with that, he gets up and gets a plate full of crackers... and eats them dry. He is so fucking weird.

He actually reminds me a lot of my fourth college roommate, Clark. He's got that same irritating manner about him, which leads me to suspect this kid is a hardcore x-tian. Thank jebus I only have to see him one more day, and then with any luck, never, never again.

I can only assume I did not win the HGTV Dream Home. Alas. To console myself, I decided to beautify my own little space just a little bit. As you all know, I've been collecting wine bottles for some time now with this grand idea in my little head about how I would arrange them fabulously atop my kitchen cabinets. Today, I got the last two bottles I needed, and the gumption to git'erdone.

What do you think? Say nice things about it. And by "nice things" I don't mean "bitchy things followed by less-than-threes." I spent my entire afternoon and evening putting together my new decorations. I must say thank you, thank you, thank you to Ryan Short for helping me buy those little pewter-inlayed shelves with my Pier 1 gift certificate he got me for x-mas. It just wouldn't have pulled together with out it.

Since I had my camera out, I took a quick pic of Tuna's new tank that I told you all about. It's just a little bit more sophistocated, a little bit more Tuna's taste. He was always a little bit patronized by the rainbow castle, so I could see his sigh of relief when I inserted this shroom-tastic rock. Literally. Little sigh bubbles. Then we high-fived.

I watched a really long special tonight on Prader-Willi Syndrome. It's this biological disorder where your brain will never tell you that you are full. In fact, you are in a state of constant starvation, not only mentally, but your body acts accordingly. It would be like if you were stuck on an island for 2 weeks starving and then someone walked by with a steak. You'd do anything to get that steak. That's how these people are every minute of every day. Can you imagine? This dude was like 400 lbs and he JUST got done eating and said that he was doing everything he could to not immediately eat again.

I don't know why I felt inclined to share that. I just thought it was fascinating. I rounded out the evening watching MRIs of people doing the dirrty on Discovery, and everything you never cared to know about booze on the History Channel. Best St. Patricia's Day EVER!1!!!

My new niece could not have been cuter. She is so, so tiny. She has a full head of hair that is probably the softest thing I have ever felt. I got her a green outfit for her birthday because I didn't want her to get pinched next Thursday. She's just a baby, for g*d's sake. It's not nice to pinch babies. She's too young for beer, but maybe my sis will be festive and feed her green breast milk.

That was gross, sorry. Not much else of note going on over here. I'm counting the days until Sweden just trying not to get fired before then. Tomorrow is the day Home and Garden will call me and let me know that I've won this years 3.5 million dollar dream home in Tyler, TX, along with the new Chevy Denali (sp?) and the $250,000 in cash. I can't wait to move in. I mean I entered like 10 times, so I'm a total shoo-in.

This'll be like the time I won an enormous stuffed animal from the dentist named Kiki. One time, I said to my brother, "Let's play beat the Kiki! I get the stick!" and took one swing at the enormous koala bear with the dowel rod we used to protect us from someone opening our bedroom window. One swing and the eye broke in half and rolled away. I was so upset. I didn't hit a baseball in 4 seasons, but I can crack an eyeball with a dowel rod in one try.

Why is it that tomorrow is spelled t-o-m-o-r-r-o-w but I abbreviate it as "tomm?"

I think I've decided to get a tattoo. Which I probably shouldn't tell you all because my brother will read and tell my mother and she will go absolutely ape-shit. But as of yet, I don't know what I want or where. So I'll entertain your suggestions, as long as your suggestions entertain me.

Thanks for all the great comments on my new layout, bitches! *makes masturbatorial motion*

I am twice the uncle I was yesterday morning. My second niece, Ann Marie, was born yesterday evening around 5:30pm. Maybe I should call her my "youngest" niece instead of my "second" niece. I really don't want to set up a hierarchy until they are old enough to do gymastics and spelling bees and such.

This is my sister's first baby. From what I hear all are doing well, and she is happy and healthy with 10 fingers, 10 toes, and a full head of black hair.

Black hair?! That's right. This kid is not a Fisher. I am leaving bright and early tomorrow morning to go meet Ann Marie. Living equadistant from your two child-having siblings has its advantages. I need to go down and see my brother and Kaylyn (and Rachel) soon. Maybe I'll do that just as soon as I get back from Sweden.

So that means no craziness for me tonight. It gives me a convenient excuse to stay home and work on my new layout, which I would have done anyway, but now people won't judge me as harshly. I'm hoping to finish it tonight, but there's a chance I won't. Then I'll be in OKC all day tomorrow possibly returning tomorrow night to attend a very 1Miles birthday celebration. We'll see how it pans out. Hope you kids have a good weekend!

I was musing today on the purpose of life and just felt obliged to share it with you all. The secret to life is to be happy. Most people would agree, but I go further to say that your job in life is to be happy. Happiness is not a product of circumstances, its a result of work towards obtaining happiness.

There is no right or wrong way to accomplish this goal. Everyone must figure out for themselves what it is they need to be happy. And unfortunately, that usually has some opportunity costs associated with it. If being skinny is what would make you happy, then get skinny. You may lose enamel on your teeth, but if you're okay with that, then go for it. If you're sad and marijuana makes you happy, then smoke your little heart out. You might go to jail or get lazy and stupid, but if that's what it takes, huzzah.

I once read a thing that most people are unhappy because of the Missing Tile Syndrome. This is where you see a beautiful mosaic and all you can do is focus on the one missing tile. To fix this, you can either find that tile, replace it with another, or ignore it and look at the tiles that aren't missing. If you're bald, and that's all you can see, get a toupee. People will make fun of you for wearing a toupee, but at least you aren't bald.

Like me, for instance, people always ask about my job, whether I enjoy it or not. I'm always indifferent. It's just my job. It's what I do, not who I am. It's not what makes me happy or keeps me from happiness. For some people it is, and that's cool. What makes me happy is sequined shirts, argyle socks, booze and European vacations. My job facilitates me buying all that, so I keep it. Opportunity cost is I get up early every day. I have a feeling, though, if I were a rock star, I'd be waking up at 6pm thinking, "Ugh, if I have to do ONE more show this week." Work, no matter how drab or fab, just does not do it for me.

Anyway, that should be enough preaching for now. I just felt like sharing. I hope you all have a wonderful day, and don't forget to tip your waitress.

Last night was such a hoot. I tell ya. It was the official opening of the spring party season hosted by Brian and Jarrod. As double duty, Jarrod was also celebrating a birthday, so happy birthday to him! I began the evening by attending a party in Addison Circle that I had been "invited" to via a myspace.com bulletin board message from some guy named Dan Paul. It's so unlike me, but it was an art showing/party and it was right here. So I went and checked it out. Lindsay accompanied me. There was some cool shit there. One guy had a painting of Ziggy Stardust that was unreal. If it hadn't have been 650 dollars I would have bought it. I still might.

From there I went to the birthday party downtown. We drank, we laughed, we went to the bars. We drank more. I was just a shade light of shitcanned by the end of the night. I had a little bit of trouble walking but not too much. Ryan and I bought hotdogs from a street vendor who took credit cards. Have you ever heard of such a thing? Cheese and rice. Except he didn't have any rice.

This morning we eventually woke up. I felt/looked terrible. But we went to brunch with Adam. They have free mimosas with brunch. Shut up, I drank like 12. A good buzz sure took the edge off my hangover. I most definitely came home and went to bed.

Are you sitting down? It's been a while since I've said this, but ... some very exciting things are happening at SideshoViD.com and it's about fucking time. Expect an all new design sometime within the next week.

And lastly, have any of you ever been to The Perry Bible Fellowship's website? Click there to read some of the most hilarious comics you couldn't possibly imagine. This guy is my own personal cheese and rice. There is one cartoon (that was too wide for me to post here without messing up my columns) where the kid is wearing a shirt that says "UNICORN POWER." I was jealous of it, so I got on eBay to find myself my own unicorn shirt. That's what this picture is. It should be shipping tomorrow and I am way, way too excited.

Hope you all had a fab weekend. Take 'er easy, and if she's easy, take 'er twice. Laaaaaaate.

Having a roommate is so good for my productivity. Instead of sitting around alone with my computer on my lap waiting for someone to IM me, I've been doing shit. I no longer accompany Andy to 24 Hour Fitness, but he does give me a run down of what to do at my gym every day and then makes sure that I go. He's also controlling my diet somewhat. I never realized how much crap I eat until I had someone constantly pointing it out to me. I'm really pushing to shed what additional pounds I can before Febrehabruary is over so I can make my success story that much more compelling. Let's just say, I think you'll all be proud of my fat ass.

I redid Tuna's tank the other night. I was in the mood to spend money and PetsMart was right next to Sally's so I dropped in and perused their selection. I got rid of his rainbow castle that Marshall gave me and replaced it with this more natural looking rock. It's got some small plants and a few big shrooms growing out of it. I also put in some grass along the bottom. It looks sooooo much nicer now. I think Tuna likes it too. I'll take a picture of it for you just as soon as I get my laptop back from Best Buy. Ohhh yeah, I took it to Best Buy this morning after I went to yoga and before I went to work out. It should be back in 7-10 business days and then we will be back in action, kids. I can't wait.

Andy also convinced me to get a tanning membership with him. Well, I say "convinced" but really he just said, "Hey, let's go tan" and I said, "Rrrrrokay." I learned on the History Channel that long, long ago, women would powder their skin in an attempt to look more pale. They did this because only the wretched poor serfs (today's modern day retail employees) had to work outside and get tan. A true sign of affluence was pale white skin. I had adopted this mentality up until recently. I'll never be dark, but I suppose it would be nice to be human-colored.

Speaking of modern day retail employees, I am so sick of boys who brag about working at Abercrombie or Hollister. So I will leave you today with a little rule for you all to remember, in case you ever feel special about your mall job: If you fold clothes that are not your own, you are a servant.

Yoga yesterday was wonderful. It was just me and three foreign middle-aged women, on account that the class was during the Super Bull. I was sweating rather profusely, as it is hot yoga, and since there were very few people there (and the male instructor is essentially nude already) I decided to take my shirt off. Now, you all KNOW how much I hate to toot my own horn, but I just wanted to share with you that while I am still morbidly obese, my working out has begun to spring the roots of progress into my mounds of fatty flesh. I think I'm starting to improve, and that is such good incentive to keep going, since my workout partner has disappeared for the past 2 weeks and has vowed to disappear at least one more. I still haven't missed a day though. Toot! Toot!

So far so good on the sobriety experiment. The only problem is that I've become increasingly irritable. I blame that more on the cigarettes than anything. I just don't like it when people try to tell me what Febrehabruary is. I made the fucking rules for me, for me to follow, not for you to assess. I am slowly withdrawing to protect my original decree of 28 days of no drinking. I'm afraid that by the end of this, I will have no friends. But I will persevere. Little things have just been annoying me more than they normally would.

It's like when somebody tells you that going from 2 packs of cigarettes a day down to a pack a week "doesn't count." And then pokes you... repeatedly....

But I did have a wonderfully productive weekend. Waking up at 10 feeling fully refreshed and ready to tackle the day was a welcome respite. And feeling tired on Saturday night meant that I curled up in my PJs with my laptop, when normally I would have feel obligated to go out. So there is good associated with the whole thing. I talked to AllieD last night, and asked her how Jamey did it. Jamey, her squeeze, gave up alcohol for 2004. The whole fucking year. He said I would be done with my experiment long before the hurt went away. So that was encouraging.

You'll notice I also have scads more time to update my webpage. I should be at Studio Movie Grill right now, but instead I think I'll go to the gym. Peace out, have-nots!

Dear all you bitches who said I would get fired,
I got a raise today.
Har dee har fucking har.
Love,
Sidesho

In fact, my year-end review said that I was doing "outstanding," had "exceeded all expectations," and had "received praise from co-workers both in and out of [my] department." It's kind of hard to argue with that. And that's in print, bold-faced, and in my permanent record. So to everyone who scoffed at me going in late 6 months in a row, everyone who turned their nose up at my mid-day naps, anyone who thought noon was too early to call it a day, and the nay-sayers who thought skipping a day was grounds for immediate termination, I say sit on it. I'm doing an outstanding job. Besides, you can't hold it against me that I'm as much as three times more productive than the average human.

The only thing my boss said he was worried about, concerning yours truly, is that I would be quitting relatively soon. He said I have too much education and potential for this job to hold me longer than 4 years. He doesn't know I was planning on quitting Tuesday. But, he does make a good point. I am terribly bored with work. But you just can't deny how sweet it is to land yet another job where I do what I want, and the allure of making that into a career.

Oh goodness, look at me going on and on about myself. How dreadful. You all KNOW how I hate to toot my own horn.

My workouts are going well even though Mr. Kenderdine has fallen "ill" and I've been flying solo every day this week. Except this time I'm being literal; I have gone every day this week. Even though I am still morbidly obese, at least my arms are muscular enough to lift my fat ass off the ground. Hopefully Febrehabruary will take care of that. (I changed the name from Frehabruary to Febrehabruary. While they both look fine in print, the latter is definitely easier to speak aloud.)

Did you notice my grammatically correct usage of the semi-colon in the paragraph above? My grammar book (Eats, Shoots & Leaves) is positively fascinating. I am learning so much from it. And its fuuunnnnny.

Allison left for Australia yesterday. I hope she likes lederhosen and wienerschnitzel, ja. JKJK. I'm not much for sloven goodbyes, but I did get her a picture frame that said "Best Friends" along the top and then "Sydney July 2005" along the bottom. When I saw it on the shelf, I thought it was so appropriate and definitely freaky that they were mass producing them. JKJK again! I had it engraved. That's my new thing. You're nobody unless you get an engraved gift from me. Except for Ryan Short who got a kickass DVD stand. That was from the heart. Anyway, back to Allison. She'll be gone for a year but I'll see her this summer, so that's not too bad. I wish her the best ... shrimp on the barbie.

I bought a big bottle of pomegranite juice. It's called Pom. Much like every other juice ever produced, it claims to be really good for you. I'll tell you one thing: it's fucking delicious. If you are just joining us and aren't familiar with the fruit, search my site for it. I have a great explanation somewhere in the past. The only downside of the juice is that it was 10 bucks for something the size of a cranberry cocktail. That's too expensive to have it on my permanent online shopping list, but a definite treat now and again.

I think I'll end on that note because I'm rambling a tad. I miss you all and apologize for my continued unpluggedness. We'll all get through this soon enough. Peace out, my little have nots. I love you all.

First things, first. Happy Birthday Ryan Short! So yay. We spent last night celebrating said birthday, which may be why I didn't wake up until 2pm today. Just a hunch. Ryan said that all he wanted was beer, pizza, and a few friends. So Sean, being the clever little devil that he is, organized a dinner down at the State and Allen Lounge consisting of discounted pizzas, domestics, and a whole slew of friends. It was a really nice time. After that we went to JRs for a smidge and then to S4.

When we went into S4, half of the No-Fun Room (aka the Non-Smoking Room) was all corded off with bouncers guarding the entrances. I thought maybe some big movie star like Richard Gere or Tom Cruise might be there. Turns out it was the cast of Bravo's new spin-off makeover show, Queer Girl for the Straight Lesbian. Mmmk, not only does this show not live up to its predecessor, but it takes dumpy nasty girls and has a lesbian give them fashion tips. It's just not good, sorry Bravo. And the cherry on top? It's been on the air for all of two weeks. I hardly think they needed to rope off an area for the 'stars.' If somebody hadn't pointed them out and had they not been sectioned off, I would have NEVER recognized them, and I've seen every episode.

That being said, we were standing in a group as they paraded into their "VIP" section, and I stood and watched each one walk by. That is, until the one I like walked by, so I stuck my hand out and introduced myself to him. I don't remember his name. Don't care. But he did say it was nice to meet me. You can see here in the artist's depiction of the scene what happened. I'm such a celebrity magnet its, like, not even funny.

The reason I am online is because I brought my work computer home for the weekend. I'm probably going to get in trouble for chatting and checking email and stuff on it. Then again, who am I kidding, I could burn down a building and get a slap on the wrist. This week I have to go out to DFW Airport for a few days to install some controllers I programmed. I despise wearing a hard hat, but at least on this job site I get a bright orange vest as well. Ugh. The things I do for money. Speaking of money, I wonder if I have any left... Later skanks.

Here's the deal. The power jack on my laptop, like the thing inside my laptop, has come loose. This happened sometime around April, but hasn't really been an issue. Anytime I lost contact, I would jiggle the cord and all was well. But now, it seems, I have lost the ability to fix the problem with a jiggle. I took my laptop to Best Buy today for their service department to fix it. It's not so much a service department as it is a shipping department. I just wanted him to open it up and take a look, but he assured me that it had to be sent off for three weeks. I don't want to give up my computer for three weeks, but I also don't want to spend an hour getting the cord in just the right spot any time I want to use my computer (like I did tonight).

This was my thought. February is already going to be hellacious and productive. I am giving up alcohol for one month. I am giving up cigarettes for one month. I am giving up the night life for one month. Why not give up chatting for one month?

That's a terrible idea.

I don't know what other choice I have. I can't afford another laptop. Hell, I can't even afford lunch this week due to a savings miscalculation. Still gotta get to the bottom of that, I think somebody stole 125 dollars from me ... which would simply augment the 87 dollars the Velvet Hookah already stole from me (and won't give back, those rat bastards ... but their bartender is hot).

My bedroom is mostly green. Mostly. I need two more gallons to finish up the job. You would think I lived in a 8,000 sq. ft. apartment with how much time I spend painting. Truth be told, I just derive a certain pleasure from doing things slowly. I always have. I like to eat slow. I like to walk slow. I like to paint slow. And I like to tilt my head back and then bring it back up slow-ly.

I'm not 100% certain when to use "slow" and when to use "slowly." Can anybody shed some light?

Quick life update. Drank too much. Made it back to New Amsterdam Coffeehaus with Mr. Kenderdine. I haven't been back since I went with Ryan Cloutier who now lives in Port-land, so I have to call him to let him know. I think something good may be beginning, but I am always skeptical of optimism. Netflix continues to rawk my world and work is even less of a concern than it ever has been. I talk to Tuna too much for a well adjusted young man and I haven't worked out since I started painting. I will be sick within a few days and the only thing in my apartment suitable to ingest is water from the tap. And beer. I think that's about it. How are you?

I am contacting you all from the year two thousand and fabulous five ... oooohhhh. Rang in the thang with a bang, and then a hang ... over. Pacey McSipperson came up to hang out with me. I apologize for the code names, but his massive web of lies has engulfed me. We went out to the Velvet Hookah Thursday with Allison and Noah, and Kieffer showed up. Disaster! The service was the worst I've ever experienced, the drinks were so weak we had to send them back to have them put liquor in them, and my tab was 100 fucking dollars. If I spend 100 dollars at a bar, I expect to at least catch a buzz. I will have to be more weary of the help the next time I go. Owen's friend Joanna's friend Aaron has always been a good bartender, and he's more fun to look at.

After all that nonsense we went out to the bars and got drunk. I accidentally didn't make it to work at all on Friday, which is an unprecedented first for me (at this particular job). I hope no one noticed. I might have to sacrifice a vacation day if they did. That or be fired, whichever. Friday was New Years, so Debbie Downer and I went shopping for new outfits. We both got the coolest shirts from Source Paris in the West Village. Everyone go shop there. Their clothes are incredible. Adam was stalking us the entire time.

Went out with the crew, much of the DS Crew was out as well. Hit up Station 4, henceforth to be referred to as S4. There was much revelry to be had, although at midnight I didn't get a kiss. Instead I got a dirty look from Glarin' Thomas right before he ditched me. So now I'm walking around the club by myself looking for my friends. I found them though and all was well in 2005. Next night, much of the same. Went to S4, got ditched by Shady McDitcherson and entertained myself until Glarin' Sean called me over to Round Up. I met a bunch of A&M people so that was fun.

Enough narrative though. To sum it up, I've spent an exorbitant amount of money and drank an unhealthy level of beer, vodka and wine. I also painted two walls in my living area red like my kitchen. I love it. But you have to wait to see it until I finish painting the rest of it tan. It'll look much better then. Get excited!

Last bit of news, I went to this website because they had an advertisement on myspace. It's too fun. Everyone go to Neighborhoodies.com and buy me something. Then we'll see whose hoodie or tshirt fits my personality the best and that person will win. If you need my shipping address let me know.

If there's anything I like more than getting vacation days from work, it's making my own vacation days. Like right now, for instance. I'm totally supposed to be at work, but I'm not. Nor do I intend to go back any time soon. You see, I woke up around 9, on account that I had a lot to drink last night. And since I wasn't at my own apartment, I was significantly tardy to work, but I brought kolaches so nobody cared. Then I took a nap, and when I woke up, I realized that I was sick of being there, so I came home. Get an education, kids, and you too can live this fabulous lifestyle.

I've watched some good ass TV today. First I watched that episode of Saved By The Bell where they drink at the toga party and then Zach wrecks Lisa's mom's car. It was really hard hitting. Zach keeps his cell phone in his locker because it's too effing huge to carry it with him. Now I'm watching Jerry Springer: "MY UNCLE STOLE MY WIFE!" It's fantastic. This is what my life has come to. I am going to go back to work eventually, though, so don't worry.

On the way home today, I saw a tricked out Cavalier. A straight up, tricked out, pimped out Chevrolet Cavalier! It was so fucking sweet. It had flames down the side and shit. I am way jealous. After I get back from Australia and have all new furniture, I am so going to mod my Cavy.

This week is absolutely dragging by. There is so little to do at work that I'm basically going to put 40 hours this week on the overhead account. No managers are there, so I just kinda sit and stare at the wall. Good thing I learned how to do this effectively during my first couple months here. I hope every one of my readers is having as big of an impact on the world as me. Laaaaaaaaaate.

The other night when Allison was spending the night I had a dream that was upsetting enough that I decided to come get on my computer and type out what had happened. In case you don't know, I've diagnosed myself with both insomnia and sleep apnea, so when I finally get tired enough to fall asleep, I never really hit REM, which makes for a plethora of fucked up dreams. This is what I typed out at 4am when I woke up:

i was walking along the street when there was this bright light that i fell into
i woke up and i was a soldier on the battle field
when the commanding officer asked me who i was i said 'david fisher' but since i had no ID i was arrested for lying
i was in jail and i was asking all kinds of questions about where i was and what was going on
thommi was in jail
i finally discerned that i had fallen into a wormhole and woken up 17 years later at the age of 40
i called matt pakes from jail and asked 'are you 40' and he was like 'wow haven't heard from you in forever, yeah im 40'
so now i'm freaked out
start the fragmented nonsequitor portion
edward spencer was a doctor
my apartment was no longer mine
i got onto my old screen name though
i was excited that i had 17 years worth of movies to watch
i looked in the mirror and saw my face at the age of 40
i asked a lot of questions about everything that had gone on
they were upping the quota of stem cells that were produced
drugs had been completely irradicated
i started to think maybe this wasn't so bad, i had skipped some boring ass parts of life
i talked to keith at work, he used the same phrase he used to use 17 years earlier about wanting me to come work again and he hated working with idiots
he got me my job back at TAC
my cell phone still worked
my parents called and left a voicemail
i realized they'd been calling me every year on the day of my disappearance
my mother kept repeating 'i told myself i wouldn't do this, i told myself it wouldn't be this hard'
she was crying
i called our old house number hoping it would be the same
she answered
i couldn't speak, the enormity hit me
there was no passage of time for me but her son had gone missing for 17 years
my mouth went dry
'its david'
she angrily, hopefully, emotionally replied 'what?'
'its david' i said again as my voice cracked in tears
'oh my god'
'mother its me david!' ... i woke up speaking these words aloud and crying

I hope everyone had a vurry murry Xmas. I know I did ... and I don't even believe in jebus! My preggers sister and her hubby and my brother, his wife and baby daughter all came to town. My other brother in California couldn't make it this year. It was a blast opening presents, especially watching Kaylyn open hers. I got some pretty good booty, and since everyone else is doing booty posts right now, I wanted my own booty post. (I think it's stupid to call it booty.)

I wanted to make it easy for you all to skim and see what I got so I made this kickass picture of my stuff. What you see here is:

1. trashcan for my bathroom
2. proper wine opener
3. silly bottles of peppers for my kitchen
4. wine from the Sierra Foothills
5. three sizes of cookie sheets and a pizza sheet
6. space heater WITH remote control ha!
7. little wooden rubber band powered airplane?

All that and a bag of chips. And by "bag of chips" I mean a "fat check from my parents that will pay for half of a plane ticket to Australia and cements the fact that I am really going." So exciting. The greatest gift was my family going to church without hassling me, guilt tripping me, or even inviting me. I was overwhelmed by that gesture.

I'm not sure what's on the slate for New Years but I'm pretty sure I am going to run around Dallas with Ryan Short. If anybody would like to join hit me up before then. Ugh, I have to work this week. That's going to suck. Czech you sluts later.

You all know how much I hate the rain. And you all know how much I hate the cold. The bastard child of their unholy union is infinitely worse. I fucking hate the snow. I woke up this morning to the sound of sleet against my window, thought, "Fuck that," to myself, and rolled over and went back to sleep. Needless to say, I was about an hour late to work. Then I checked weather.com and saw this massive wall of ice sweeping across the nation, thought, "Fuck that," to myself, and went home.

I was there for all of an hour, most of which I spent learning Chinese from Yue. She found the greatest Chinese restaurant, she claims, but they have separate menus for those who speak their language and for those of us with white skin. I want the good shit, not the white person menu, so I made her teach me how to say, "I can understand you," so I can get some respect when they start talking shit about me in Chinese.

Wa ke yi ming bai ni, bitch.

This little picture collage I made for you are pictures from my bedroom window. So that's not my building, but the building across the street. I have always said, I have the BEST fucking view from my apartment ... if you like water towers. That picture on the far left is of my building, all the little awnings have snow on them. Awwww.

So I spent the day napping, working out, cooking myself food. Just a little Solstice gift from yours truly to yours truly. Now I have off from work until Monday. Thursday the new club, Station 4, opens downtown, then its time to open presents, celebrate the supposed birth of my supposed lord and saviour, jebus h. christ. After that, I should be around to update you all. Have a wonderful holiday, whichever religion, or lack thereof, you prescribe to! Peace on earth, and good will toward me!

HAPPY SOLSTICE!!!!!1! Today it was 70 degrees and the forecast for tomorrow is snow.

Here are some things I've probably told all you at one time or another, but I need to get them out there, because it will make future blogs easier to write.

First, I am giving up drinking for an entire month. I have selected February as my dry month, for the obvious reason that it is the shortest month and I'm concerned that this will be next to impossible for me. There are several reasons that I am doing this. The first of which is that I'm concerned that this wil be next to impossible for me. It's that whole, "I can quit anytime," mentality that gets people into trouble. So I want to make sure I can still quit anytime. I have also been disturbingly unproductive since I moved here. I need to finish decorating and painting and everything. But the biggest reason is that I need money. I am going to see Allison is Australia in July and one alcohol free month will pay for the entire thing. Yeah, its that out of hand.

The fun thing is, February is 28 days long. So I am going recreate Sandra Bullocks commanding performance in 28 Days (not to be confused with its sequel, 28 Days Later).

In foreign news, I might get to go to Sweden for two weeks for work. I don't care if they make me do fucking manual labor in Sweden, it will fucking rawk. It's not certain in the least that I will get to go but I really, really, really hope I do. I've been pretty pushy about it at work, vying for the opportunity.

Lastly, I am never cutting my hair again. Never. Every day that I don't cut my hair, I am happier than the day before. This counteracts the fact that every day that I go to work is worse than the day before. So I am flatlined right now.

I think that's all that I had to report. I've had about 15 conversations during the time that I was typing this so I got a little sidetracked. Time to go to the gym for a cardio day. Whoo hoo. Later, sluts.

Could Ryan Short's Holidaze Party been any better? Absolutely not. His apartment decorations were so cute, they even had me in a festive X-mas mood. Either that or my new red scarf from the Gap. And by the way your mom says hi.

We did a Secret Santa exchange. I drew Lil' Jarrod for my recipient. I got him a double chambered flask with his name engraved on the front. I think he liked it. Ha. Sean Wardle got me several pairs of argyle socks. He learned during our trip to College Station that argyle socks are one of my favorite things about life. And these are nice socks. I'm not being facetious or anything. The first time I put a pair on I thought o myself, "Damn, these are nice socks." He also got me a T-shirt espousing the virtues of the Cavalier - The Champagne of Cars! I rounded out the evening drinking a whole bunch of wine and just a few sips of the candy cane martinis. Thanks for another fabulous party Ryan!

You've all seen the List-Eater, right? The chick who cut in line to pull tickets for the Cotton Bowl and when she was challenged with the list of people who had been camping out for 4 days, she ate the list. When I heard about it, I chuckled. But then Brianne up in Chicago sent me the video. It was then that I realized I know the List-Eater! She's Michael Wise's fiance. He is in my major and we used to work together back when I was doing that NASA thing a few summers ago. That made it absolutely hilarious. [Click here] for the official List-Eater video. I sent it to everyone in my office today and they all thoroughly enjoyed it.

And our final piece of news. I signed up for Netflix! It was spur of the moment. I saw a commercial for it and logged on and signed up. I now have 86 movies in my queue and I rated over 400 movies. I didn't really think I could have possibly seen that many movies since every movie I've seen I've seen about 4,000 times. Go figure. I should be adding a lot to that list soon as I'm going to make a habit of watching a movie every night instead of whatever crap happens to be on TV. As soon as I start getting my movies shipped to me, I may start reviewing them on my website. We shall see.

Alright sluts, I'm gonna go veg out for a while longer. Hope you all have a fantastic weekend.

What a week. What a weekend. What a time to be alive! This weekend I made the trek to College Station once again to celebrate Thanksgiving as well as Allison's graduation and bon voyage as she prepares to move to Australia. On the way down, I called Brandon to see how he was doing and he convinced me to swing through Austin and pick him up. That was a fuck load of driving in one weekend (with the traffic jams, I was in the car for 12.5 total hours this weekend). But, it was worth it to get to hang out with Brandon.

We arrived in CS on Friday around 10 and got ready to go out to Halo. Good times, good times. I had a completely empty stomach so I was trying to take it easy, which eventually didn't happen, but I did behave for an uncharacteristically long time. The next day we joined Allison as soon as the hangovers subsided and went to buy last minute supplies and a keg. I dropped even more money this weekend. Shit. Finances are in a dire situation. Dire meaning that I can't buy new jeans tomorrow if I want everyone to have a X-mas present, not dire I can't pay the rent. Even so, my lifestyle is compromised.

The party was a raging success, if I don't mind saying. We did a Trash Can Grab. This was new to me. We had a trash can full of ice and water and everyone brought a little something to throw into the trash can. Then you had to reach into the black abyss and drink whatever random alcohol you pulled out. At first, I thought our alcohol supply, which involved a plethora of wine from dinner, a keg, and the trashcan, was overkill, but we ended up drinking all of it. Thank you, thank you, thank you to Allison for being a most wonderful host, and thanks again to Dustin and Trey for putting me up for the weekend.

In other news HAPPY 20th BIRTHDAY, #27!!!!1! Our little David27 is growing up, chronologically at least. This past Saturday, Dec. 11 was his 20th birthday. He's not a teenager any more. Congrats on surviving two decades. Mwah!

This week I have a Secret Santa party at Ryan Short's and a Nieman Marcus office party with Ryan Short. Then I'm not doing anything. Nor am I ever going out of town again. If you ever want to see me again you'll have to come to Addison.

I hope I don't piss any one off with this next comment, but I can't help but think about everyone taking finals right now... and how stressed out they must be, and how tired, and overworked, and sick of it, and just wanting to be done. And then I kick back, stretch out, open another beer, and sigh audibly. It is so nice to not be in school. I can't believe it's been six months since graduation. Time sure flies when you're skipping work. Peace out, sluts!

As many of you, undoubtedly already knew, when I described the plans for Thommi's 21st Birthday as, "nothing too ornate or elaborate," I was being completely perfidious, hoping Thommi would read it and be further thrown off of the fact that I was planning a surprise party. The true story goes a little something like this:

When Thommi and Dan were here last weekend, Thommi said something along the lines of, "I've always wanted a surprise party." And I replied, "Yeah well it isn't gonna fucking happen, so you can forget that. Besides, who would we invite? You don't have any friends." Okay, at the time, I was just being mean, not calculating, but the more I thought about it, the more I thought I might able to pull it off. I only had 5 days, though, so I made some quick decisions about when and where it would be and started making phone calls. You all know how torturous it is for me to talk on my phone, so I was really proud of myself for maintaining my cool as I called old friend after old friend and told them to get ready to par-tay. An e-vite naturally sealed the deal. The party was on Saturday night and I told everyone to get there at 8:00 knowing that everyone would be fashionably late. I had hoped to trick them all into being there before 10:00 when I was bringing Thommi over.

Sean Wardle accompanied me on my vacation. What a fun road trip partner! He's going back next week for Thanksgiving as well. Hurrah! So it was Sean, Dan, Thommi and me getting ready for a fake night out on the town while my gracious and ever so wonderful hosts, Dustin and Trey, held down the fort. Trey, Sean and I had spent the afternoon running around town buying a keg, some liquor, and about 20 bucks worth of streamers, flags and balloons from the Dollar Store. The apartment was decked out ... and all in pink. I'm sure the guy that rang us up at the store thought we were throwing a party for an 8 year old girl. Well ... kinda.

So Sean and I took Thommi and Dan out for a nice birthday dinner, all the while doing everything we could to stall our little engagement. We didn't want to raise suspicions by making dinner too late, but we knew that 4 hours to kill was going to be a lot. By the time dinner was over and we made it back to Thommi's apartment we had two full hours to kill. I'm so glad Sean was there to help. First we laid around and pretended to be nonchalant about the whole affair. As Thommi was getting impatient, we started out on our plan to eat up as much time as possible doing hair. I did mine first and then Thommi's. Then Sean went. He must have spent about 45 minutes in the bathroom fixing his hair. Hilarious. Then I did Dan's hair as well ... anything to kill more time. At one point, I literally walked in slow motion.

My phone is blowing up all evening -- very uncharacteristic. But I'm answering every inquiry with terse responses to not raise suspicion. Still the whole thing is fishy. Around 10:00 Trey texts me to tell me that only 10 guests have arrived so far of the 27 who RSPV'ed. g*d damnit! We dragged our feet some more until Thommi was getting visibly annoyed and I received another text saying that 17 people had arrived. That was enough. On our way we went.

The whole thing was planned down to a T. When we got close, I called Trey and asked him what the gate code was, which was actually just code for, "Hey, we're close." He got everyone organized, and when we arrived at the door, I knocked Hullabaloo and took a step back. As soon as the door opened, Thommi looked inside to see a mass of gaudy decorations and a throng of people and took three steps backward. In my favorite quote of the evening, I grabbed his shoulders, gave him a hearty push, and yelled,

"GET IN THERE, YOU ASSHOLE!"

Haha! Surprise! He had no clue. It was so great. A few more people came and went as the night dragged on, but I was very grateful to everyone that showed and helped us empty the keg, the vodka, the wine, and the bottle of Johnny Walker Black that AllieD and Jamey brought me as a gift (having read my Thanksgiving post where I said that's what I was most thankful for. It pays to blog!). Needless to say I got shitcanned, everyone had a blast, we went to Halo for all of 10 minutes after they'd stopped serving, and got a couple waters from Aaron. WINK!

All in all I'd say it was a rousing success. I was more than pleased with the results considering Ryan Short didn't help me plan it one bit. This next weekend is Thanksgiving, ya'll, we're gonna do it up Gill 'n Al style. So get ready for your e-vite to that shit. And one last thing:

PICTURES!

Dan, Sean, Thommi and I as we enter the party. This was after I pushed him through the door. Some people likened his reaction to that of the plastic keg cups, but you can see here, the photographic evidence of a fleeting smile. Good ol' Glarin' Thomas.

Sean, Dan, Thommi, me, Luke and Rob pose for a group shot. Check out those kickass decorations in the back. Those represent a lot of standing on stools. I'm sporting the Surprise Hawk, a hair-do I invented just for the occasion.

Whew let's see if I can name everyone here. From left to right as best I can: Dan, Sean, Jason, Dustin, Bob, Phillip, Luke, Me, Noah, Rob, Allison, Thommi, AllieD, Jamey and Owen. This isn't everyone who eventually came, and doesn't include Trey behind the camera, but I think it's a really cute shot. Oh yeah, we also bought some princess crowns, in case you're wondering whats on some of the heads.

Sean and I pose for a quick Team Dallas picture. Sean entertained himself by making snide remarks about the lack of concierge and valet services throughout town. He'd do JUST fine in College Station.

Bob, me and Dustin pose for a quick one. We had such cute keg cups even. I'm not entirely sure what Bob is doing here, nor do I seem to mind.

And finally, the princesses of the ball, Thommi and Dan. I think they both had a really good time and were genuinely surprised, which is what it was all about. The other thing its all about is my hair there in the background. RAWK!

About three weeks ago they put a Krystal Burger near my apartment. Since then, the lines to eat inside have wrapped around the interior of the restaurant repeatedly until it was solid people. The drive-thru line went so far beyond wrapping around the building that the entrance to join the line was about 2 blocks away from the restaurant. Talk about your word of mouth! You couldn't get this shit for any less than a 2 hour wait. I decided to wait until the lines died down to go try it. It is on the way to my gym, so I was able to monitor the popularity every single night when I work out ... every single night.

Tonight on the way home, I noticed there was no line inside, so a few evasive maneuvers through traffic later, I was ordering my Krystal Burger Combo #1. Four hamburgers, fries, and a drink. In case any of you aren't from up north (or Addison) and don't know what Krystal burgers are, they are tiny little hamburgers that you're supposed to eat a bunch of at once. Okay, now the verdict.

*cue that People's Court theme song*

These burgers made me want to technicolor yawn ... I'm talkin liquid laugh all over the table. They were GROSS! Fuck! Don't waste your time on this shit. These hamburger patties make McDonalds patties look like t-bone fucking steaks. I did not take the time to measure them, but I would estimate their thickness at around half of a centimeter. And to top it all off, they weren't even good. There was more onion and pickle than meat. Of course, that's no surprise when you make your burgers out of beef stationary. In short: KRYSTAL BURGERS SUCK!

Next order of business... HAPPY 21ST FUCKING BIRTHDAY, THOMMI!!1!!1 Yay! Thommi is a real boy! Now when we hang out we can both indulge equally in that sweet, sweet elixer of life called alcohol. I'm going to go to College Station this weekend with Sean Wardle to take Thommi out to celebrate. Friday I'm taking Sean to Halo but Saturday, we're gonna pick up Thommi and go out to Northgate. Nothing too ornate or elaborate, but should be fun nonetheless.

Last item of business... AllieD just told me a little story about her education major friend, Jennifer. The AllieD Times describes her as "smart and beautiful and witty." The first time Jennifer read my webpage, she decided she was in love with me, despite us having never met. The only things she really knows about me are what I post online and what AllieD has told her, which has been extensive, granted. She sent this picture to AllieD to show how she pictures me.

AllieD, we need to talk about what you've been telling this girl.

My four day weekend is over. I am so not looking forward to work tomorrow. But I guess I should just accept it as an inevitability and carry on with my life. Thommi and Dan spent Friday and Saturday with me. We had way too much fun. There was much drinking, much socializing, much of the creme de la creme of Dallas explored. Shopping in the West Village was crazy. I sat and watched as these two boys dropped a collective grand on new digs ... money, I can assure you, they did not have to spare. How fun are they? I think my Shopping Hawk inspired them (a hair-do I invented just for the outting).

Have you ever noticed in movies when the phone lines are cut, they always pick up the phone and then repeatedly tap the little hanger-upper button? I haven't had a land line in many years, so maybe I'm a fool for asking, but does that ever help? Just once I'd like to see them be in a really scary sitch, pick up the phone with no dial tone, freak out, push the button and then have everything be fine. "Oh, that was scary, I thought for a second the phones were down, but they're not. Beeeeeeep. Booooooop."

I also fucking love those commercials where people speak to each other in phone tones. Hey, for those of you who find my webpage sacrelicious, good news:

It has become glaringly apparent that if I am going to successfully quit smoking, I am also going to have to quit drinking. I have a little experiment planned for a substance free month of my life. It won't be until February though ... because February is the shortest month, and this is going to be torturous. I'll get you some more details on that when the time arrives. Until then, hold your collective breaths, you have-nots.

Oh, joy! It's my favorite holy day once again! The day our lord and saviour, the turkey, willingly gave his life so we might enjoy eternal dressings. "Take this drumstick and eat it, for this is my body, gobble, gobble." The day Christopher Columbus killed all the Native Americans. He killed them all, great and small, so he could put their heads up on his wall. It was the day Chris Columbus killed all the Indians.

Now that we're finished with the history of Thanksgiving, I want to take a moment to discuss with all of you, the meaning of Thanksgiving. It's like I always say, "Tis better to thanksgive than to thanksreceive." Let's all try to keep that in mind this year. And I know, I know, the food is a big part of it. Who doesn't like to sit down at a table with a 24 pound roasted bird carcass, mashed potatoes made with heavy cream and butter and garlic, green bean casserole made with soup from the can (because any attempt to gourmet that up and no one will eat it), mac n cheese made from scratch, cranberry sauce nobody will touch but it has to be on the table anyway, french bread to sop up the leftover gravy made from stock, candied yams and pumpkin pies and AHHHHH I'm overstimulated. But with all of this, I still must contest that Thanksgiving is not just about the food.

It's about the booze.

The red wines, the white wines, the boxed wines in between. The smooth burn of a single malt scotch as it gives your stomach a welcome hug. The brandy soaked peaches. The cases upon cases of beer in the fridge "just in case" even though you know no one's leaving til they're gone. And this year, I made red roosters, a thing I saw Emeril do. Cranberry juice and orange juice concentrate and a whole lot of vodka, into a large pan and into the freezer. I kicked it up a notch by using raspberry vodka. I hope everybody likes it. BAM!

I am going to have a very Hoffmann Thanksgiving this year by spending it with my dear friend Allison and her parents (Krazy K and Big D) and the rest of her family. Should be a riot. I'm so excited I can barely sit still. I hope all of you have the most wonderful holiday with friends and family (because they're a part of the day too). Take a moment to think about this: for what are you most grateful this year? I know mine -- Johnny Walker Black.

Happy Thanksgiving to all and to all a good buzz!

This weekend Ryan Hudler came into town with his new girlfriend, Paula, her brother, Michael, and his girlfriend, Amanda. We were planning on playing 3-Man on account of the good memories dredged up by my last post, but it ended up being annoyingly difficult to figure out the rules, so we opted for the old standby, Suits. As an added bonus, our dear friend Princess called me early Saturday afternoon to talk when I managed to convince him to make the drive to Dallas to hang out. My first real company!

I spent all night Friday making sure my place would be presentable when everyone arrived. It was no small feat. Despite the rainstorm, Ryan and the gang showed up a little after 8:00 and we got some Pei Wei for dinner. Princess took a detour through Shreveport to get to Addison so he showed up a little later once the drinking had already commenced. We tore through a couple of cases of beer between us all. During the course of the night, I got a new welcome mat, compliments of one of my guests and one of my neighbors. By the morning they had taken their mat back. Fucking selfish bitches. I hate my neighbors now.

The next morning, Princess and I spent a whole day shopping. We were all over the metroplex seeking out the coolest shops. We didn't buy any clothes but we both added about 100 items to our wanted lists. Princess found a really cool coat that he needs 300 dollars for, and a pair of jeans that he needs 120 for. These are the most important items. I found an entire store that I need 10,000 dollars to clean out, but I have put a freeze on my wardrobe supplements until I get my apartment in working order. That's one thing this non-smoking thing is about. I will save roughly 20 bucks a week being smoke-free, which could add up to a few extras around the apartment.

This week I only have to work until Wednesday, and since no one is in the office, trust me when I say, I won't be working much. Rawk! I left so early today. But in my defense, it was raining, and we all know I don't like the rain. Then it's time for a five day weekend that includes A Very Hoffmann Thanksgiving, the Ryan Cabrera concert con Thommi, an appointment at MAC, and a lot of time spent with Kaylyn, the baby. Hurrah!

Footnote: Owen's webpage just had me in stitches. His posts have gotten increasingly better this semester and this one about McDonald's and Microsoft may just take the cake. Plus, my sexy 'stache pics are on the front: http://www.xanga.com/home.aspx?user=noezoom.

Today is the American Cancer Society's National SmokeOut. The idea is that everyone in the world quits smoking at the same time. Since that will never, ever happen, they say that if you want to participate you can just quit for a day. I've decided to do that. It has nothing to do with the fact that I smoked half a pack last night over multiple glasses of wine and this morning I am completely hungover. No, it has to do with my love for my body and the environment.

While I was at www.cancer.org I was looking around at some of their anti-smoking campaigns and how they have evolved over the years. This one was my favorite. Look, people, the lamer you make your anti-smoking campaigns, the cooler and more counter-culture smoking becomes. Why do you think Phillip Morris is so willing to waste tons of money on trying to keep children from smoking? Because a 1980's inspired duck who says that 'tobacco is whacko' encourages kids to smoke. If you want to get people to quit, the solution is simple ... pass more legislation! Duh. Don't even get me started on the degradation of capitalism that is forcing businesses to ban smoking in public places. We'll discuss that in a different blog. Moral of the story is DON'T SMOKE (on November 18th, 2004).

Speaking of November 18th, not sure how many of you are remembering, but it was exactly 5 years ago today that the Aggie Bonfire collapsed. I was a freshman in college and had been worked into a frenzy over the anticipation of Bonfire since before I'd ever set foot on campus. We'd spent the night playing 3-Man in my room so everyone was too drunk and asleep at 3am when the crew chiefs came through the dorm pounding on doors to get people to help them pick up fallen logs off of the bodies of those trapped underneath. The next morning we were a little bewildered as we turned on the channel that had a 24 hour image of Bonfire and saw it on the ground. Then when I went out to the Polo Fields and realized that every white sheet draped over the logs was to hide a dead body, the enormity of what happened hit me. It still gets to me today ... It's getting to me right now as I type this.

We felt so helpless sitting there staring at the cranes. People walked around handing out drinks, sandwiches, sweatshirts, and anything else anyone needed since some people had stayed out there for days at a time. We tried to go give blood but every blood bank had lines wrapped around the block of people willing to wait. I think we set the Brazos Valley on blood for the next decade. It certainly took some air out of the game. Bonfire represented our burning desire to beat the hell out of t.u. but that didn't seem so important. We weren't even sure if we were supposed to enjoy the game.

That night instead of a yell practice we had a candle light vigil. When it was time to go into the stadium everyone took their candles with them, so instead of the image of lighters being held up that we were accustomed to, this is what we saw. I can't say it was a fun time to be an Aggie, but I'm glad I was a part of it so I could understand. That was the turning point for on-campus culture, and I was lucky to have experienced the way it used to be before all of that went away. Those of you in classes higher than 2003 just can't imagine what it was like.

That game was the greatest game that has ever been played. Everyone in the crowd, Aggies and longhorns, was so emotionally invested. We got the much needed win, needed emotionally, by the 12th Man completely disorienting their freshman quarterback. We all felt like we'd helped. But the best part was halftime. Normally we all sit down when the opposing band plays (the only time through the game that we sit). But at this game, the Texas band came out onto the field, played Amazing Grace, lowered their school's flags and raise an A&M flag. I never thought I would see the day when 80,000 Aggies would stand and whoop while the t.u. band played. It was an awesome moment, many tears were shed, and I am so grateful I got to be a part of it.

I don't really talk about Bonfire very much, because it still upsets me. But I thought it would be okay to share some memories on the anniversary of the fall. If you want, you can post a comment with some of your memories. It's important to remember.

My trip to College Station was a rousing success. I saw so many people that I haven't seen in forever. I met a bunch of new people too. And somewhere in the middle of those two experiences ... I met lots of people that I've known for years but never bothered to remember -- namely, ALL of Keiff's female friends. The drive down was a b-last. It's been so long since team Gill 'n Al have made a road trip. We rawked out the whole way. Trying to describe it in words will only fall short, but I'll just say that I almost passed out from singing the Moulin Rouge soundtrack too loud.

I don't want to go into too much narration about my weekend, but I did take a shower at Jason's, stop off at Dustin and Trey's, see Marshall at Hoblob (his hair is so hot now), check out Tommy's ultra chic downtown loft, visit Josh and Nely, and attend Burns' and Lauren's ring dunking party. Burns was pretty optimistic about beating my modest 65 second mark, but he fell quite short. I think he came in at 94, which I say assuming he will correct me if I'm wrong. Lauren took several minutes, but I was still proud of her for finishing decently for a girl. Of course, chugging beer is what college ... nay, life ... is all about, but I suppose some congratulations are in order for even attaining the coveted Aggie Ring. So congrats, children, congrats.

After drinking all the free beer we could, Dustin, Trey, Jason, Tommy and I all ventured over to Halo. I saw so many people there. It was way too fun. I drank myself retarded, attempted to dance, had many conversations that are not catalogued in my ever decreasing memory banks. This was a fantastic trip to CS, I accomplished all of my goals of alcoholism.

In other exciting news, Allison got herself a job for when she graduates in December. She's been interning at HP for a while now and has decided to further that career professionally. The exciting part? She's been hired in Sydney fucking Australia. How awesome is that?! Major congrats to her! I am already saving up for my plane ticket to go visit her. Who knows ... if I like it there, I could always transfer to Sydney. Our three world headquarters are Sydney, Australia, Malmo, Sweden, and Carrollton, Texas (obviously). I'm way excited for her, even though it's a little depressing that she'll be on the other side of the world by the end of January. So our party on December 11th in College Station that you're all clearing your calendars for will now be a Thanksgiving/Graduation/Bon Voyage. Huzzah!

And finally, I've been inundated with the word 'insurgent' since this whole Fallujah thing, in conjunction with my NPR habit, started. I finally decided to look it up and find out what it actually means.
in·sur·gent (n-sûrjnt) adj. --
1. Rising in revolt against established authority, especially a government.
2. Rebelling against the leadership of a political party.

Turns out, I'm an insurgent.

I have about a thousand things I want to talk about, we'll see how many of them stick in my memory by the time I really get into blogging mode. First off, I spent the weekend chillin in the OC ... the OKC, that is. I actually had a good time. On Saturday and Sunday, my impregnito sister and I painted her nursery. Pink on the walls, green on the ceiling. It was so, so cute. Now I'm rarin' to paint my apartment. Who wants to help? Prior to this, on Friday night, we went bowling.

I was bowling in Oklahoma on a Friday night.

It ended up being really fun though. My sister's husband made the comment, "There's no way I'm going to lose to my pregnant wife and a gay guy." So I annihilated him. He didn't know that I spent the better part of high school bowling obsessively, and then transferred that hobby to college with Kevin. By the end of the night, he had admitted defeat and encouraged me to join a gay bowling league, because I would be "the man" there. I'm not sure what the difference is between a gay bowling league and a bowling league. I guess we would use pink balls?

Speaking of Kevin, he's not going to be able to join me in College Station this weekend. What a fucking bummer. I was so stoked. I mean, I still am because I get to see Burns take longer than 65 seconds to chug a pitcher of beer and get shitcanned with the whole crew, but still... everyone knew I was just going to see Kevin. I'm actually going to drive down on Saturday morning, and give Allison a ride back.

Speaking of Allison, we are planning a Thanksgiving to end all Thanksgivings. The date we decided on is December 11th. The location: Allison's house in College Station. I am planning a detailed blog about it, but had too much to say to devote this entry to that. Look for details in the future, but for g*d's sake clear your fucking calendars. This is going to the put the last one to shame!

And finally, my new hobby is listening to NPR (National Public Radio). I feel like I'm already smarter for doing this. Many thanks to my brother who originally suggested it to me when I told him how annoyed I was with radio DJs and commercials. Today they were talking about Arnold Schwarzenegger possibly running for president. Of course, he's not a natural born citizen, so the constitution would have to be amended. We all know Bush has no problem amending it. They made a good argument that someone who has been in the country for 20+ years, obtained citizenship, understands the political system, and has obtained public office should be allowed to run for president. And Arnold was talking about how everything is more global these days so it makes sense. And I agree. Hell, at least he speaks two languages ... Bush doesn't even speak one.

Even though Arnie is a Republickin, he is not conservative on issues that educated people aren't conservative on -- stem cell research, gay marriage, abortion, to name a few. Conservative X-tian Republickins would fuckin hate him. But maybe there's enough political momentum behind the Republickins to get him in the White House. To me, this would present a win/win situation in 4 years. Either someone that agrees with me on issues I find important would be elected, or the Democratic party would win, and maybe even put Hillary in the White House, which would rawk. People who argue against this amendment say that the Constitution shouldn't be viewed as a totally maleable document, and certainly should never be amended with a certain individual in mind. One guy said go ahead and make the amendment but say that it doesn't take effect for 20 years. He makes a good point. Just thought I'd give my readers something to discuss at their next cocktail party.

Items of interest, just to recap: OKC was fun, I kick ass at bowling, I need help painting my apartment, College Station this Saturday, Thanksgiving December 11, listen to NPR and tell me what you think about the President-inator (lame). Peace out, sluts!