Last night I dreamed of lemmings running repeatedly into brick walls because the oceans were boiling. They looked over the cliff, and were like, "Fuck THAT, there's some masonry over there..."
LaBamba's super pork and x3 avocado burritos = bliss. Beyond that, it was a cool, mellow evening at the bar (IBC), but I'm not used to walking in this heat (it STILL sucks out there). Long story short, I'm pretty sober, and I think I chaffed my taint with the walking. *sigh*
I must be getting old; there was an extended cherry picker RIGHT around the corner from "my" bar, and I neither got laid nor peed on cars from it. Actually, I blame my ladies for the missed opportunity; texts were sent, with justifiably high hopes, but this oppressive heat hath made wusses of them both. *sigh* Times, they are a-changin', but I'm smiling a nostalgic smile.
They are calling this heat wave a "heat dome". Heat dome. HEAT DOME? They're just making sh*t up, now *crosses arms and stares like Henry Rollins*. It's just Summer, mannnnn...this time of year in 1994 was FAR worse. YEAH! SUMMER! Put THAT in your heat dome and smoke it, fuckin' hippy meteorologist assholes.
The obnoxious mood this kinda sweating puts me in has me listening to a lot of Gogol Bordello (including the Bassnectar remix of Immigraniada ...WAY cool!). You cannot share any of their videos because of stupid copyright bullshit, but imagine them covering this song, and the mood I left the apartment with is pretty well summed up:
Yeah. THAT, but Gogol Bordello-ized. I've been thinking of shaving down to a stand-alone, curly-tipped handlebar mustache...kind of like Gogol Bordello-izing my FACE. Yeahhhhhh...like I'm THAT motivated. *rolls eyes*
I really need to clean the litter box. My daughter was in the bathroom the other day, and I REALLY had to use it. After knocking and explaining the urgency, she told me to use the litter box. I didn't. When she emerged, however, she saw me squatting over it. In alarm, she exclaimed, "Daddy!". I cut her off, explaining that she TOLD me to, to which she replied, "Yeah, but your pants are still on." *sigh* Ah, to be five again...
This heat dome would be cooler if it caused an echo when I cuss at it.
I long for Autumn. This chick I met at the bar liked that I called it Autumn instead of Fall. I still didn't feel like I knew her well enough to invite her to the cherry picker, though. Patience is a virtue, I suppose.
Sooooo, this is a kidless Friday night, eh? Work is going to suck tomorrow, wiring parking lot lights and detached garage lights at that new apartment building in Champaign. Day six pulling outside shifts...*sigh*. Look out your window, right NOW! Is that an airplane? A helicopter? Noooooo...it's that flying fuck I don't give.
LaBamba's super pork and x3 avocado burritos = bliss. Beyond that, it was a cool, mellow evening at the bar (IBC), but I'm not used to walking in this heat (it STILL sucks out there). Long story short, I'm pretty sober, and I think I chaffed my taint with the walking. *sigh*
I must be getting old; there was an extended cherry picker RIGHT around the corner from "my" bar, and I neither got laid nor peed on cars from it. Actually, I blame my ladies for the missed opportunity; texts were sent, with justifiably high hopes, but this oppressive heat hath made wusses of them both. *sigh* Times, they are a-changin', but I'm smiling a nostalgic smile.
They are calling this heat wave a "heat dome". Heat dome. HEAT DOME? They're just making sh*t up, now *crosses arms and stares like Henry Rollins*. It's just Summer, mannnnn...this time of year in 1994 was FAR worse. YEAH! SUMMER! Put THAT in your heat dome and smoke it, fuckin' hippy meteorologist assholes.
The obnoxious mood this kinda sweating puts me in has me listening to a lot of Gogol Bordello (including the Bassnectar remix of Immigraniada ...WAY cool!). You cannot share any of their videos because of stupid copyright bullshit, but imagine them covering this song, and the mood I left the apartment with is pretty well summed up:
Yeah. THAT, but Gogol Bordello-ized.
I've been thinking of shaving down to a stand-alone, curly-tipped handlebar mustache...kind of like Gogol Bordello-izing my FACE. Yeahhhhhh...like I'm THAT motivated. *rolls eyes*I really need to clean the litter box. My daughter was in the bathroom the other day, and I REALLY had to use it. After knocking and explaining the urgency, she told me to use the litter box. I didn't. When she emerged, however, she saw me squatting over it. In alarm, she exclaimed, "Daddy!". I cut her off, explaining that she TOLD me to, to which she replied, "Yeah, but your pants are still on." *sigh* Ah, to be five again...
This heat dome would be cooler if it caused an echo when I cuss at it.
I long for Autumn. This chick I met at the bar liked that I called it Autumn instead of Fall. I still didn't feel like I knew her well enough to invite her to the cherry picker, though. Patience is a virtue, I suppose.
Sooooo, this is a kidless Friday night, eh? Work is going to suck tomorrow, wiring parking lot lights and detached garage lights at that new apartment building in Champaign. Day six pulling outside shifts...*sigh*. Look out your window, right NOW! Is that an airplane? A helicopter? Noooooo...it's that flying fuck I don't give.
Noooo...I WISH Gogol Bordello did, so y'all just have to imagine it. I was going to post their song "Wonderlust King" and/or "Think Locally, Fuck Globally", but they won't work.
What the rum couldn't accomplish, the herb apparently did; I forgot I wrote this blog!