Thursday, June 29, 2006

This Is What I Have To Look At

Looking at this while at work is pretty depressing in the summer time. In the winter time it's ok, when it reads 13 degrees I'm happy to be at work, when I says 86 and it's sunny outside and I have friends who are off for the week texting me that they are sitting by the pool at their apartment it really sucks. Don't worry, I'll get back at you once pops and I build the deck on my house at the end of July. Talk about $1,000 well spent (ouch). But it will give me years of enjoyment.

Terry Bradshaw's Ass

Watched "Failure To Launch" tonight, pretty good movie, little emotional, I never liked Sarah Jessica Parker that much but she was really good and looked even better, always love Mathew McConahay (he's damn cute with a body to boot). Ok, I admit, I've been conversing with the neighborhood gay guy a bit but I'm still straight. Terry Bradshaw (ex NFL quarterback/football commentator) was Mathew's dad, once he moved out Terry turned his bedroom into a naked room, saw his bare ass for a good 45 seconds, hope he got paid a lot for that cause he's going to catch shit from Howie Long and the group. I've been in a bit of a funk lately and I think it all stems from one thing, take a guess (oh no, it's not the beer, ok, yeah it is the beer, or maybe it's the 4-5 shots at the end of the night). I get to work in the morning, do my thing, and usually at lunch I'll go to the gym. This week I've been finding excuses not to go (went Tues and Wed, not Mon or Thurs). It's either I didn't get enough sleep last night, had to much to drink last night, or the stupid rib/muscle in my upper back/shoulder that's still giving me shit. So now I feel fat and bloated from the beer and my lazy ass hasn't done anything to fix the problem. Let me copy an email from a friend now, might explain some things.

u were not fine last night. around 430 in the morning u were all over the bedroom searching for something---i think it was for the light switch. then u went to the bathroom and was in there forever. i was starting to think u fell asleep in there. then u stumbled in the spare bedroom turning on all sorts of lights. do u remember any of that? plus u almost fell over in the bedroom by the night stand.

That might have something to do with not wanting to go to the gym, ya think? And here's one from the night before.

well the night before u asked me to marry u and last night u said u loved me. i swear i could of cracked u one. no more talking like that or i'm not talking to u anymore--lol. i dont care how drunk u are--lmfao

Oh my goodness. Those words do not come out of my mouth ever. So yeah, in a bit of a funk. If any girl I don't know really well already reads this I will have absolutely no chance in hell of dating her. But who am I kidding, I can't date, I'm not dating material, but at least I have the consolation prize of being in the top 5 sexually of any girl I've been with (in the past 5 years, I've been practicing). That's about all I'm good for, and some laughs, I love making people laugh, wether with a stupid joke or just doing something stupid (not hard if you're me). Laugh at me all you want, just as long as you're laughing I'm happy. Or orgasming, then I'm happy too (and please scream my name while doing so). So, what do you do to get yourself out of a funk? That answer is simple, sit outside on a nice evening, vent your feelings in your pathetic blog, all while enjoying Roundy's finest vodka and lemonade. Took a picture today of a homeless guy asking for money on an on ramp. And no, the guy in the $70,000 Range Rover did not give him anything. At least I know where my next place of employment will be, but I'll be the sexiest homeless person ever!!!


I can't wait to go to Brazil in February.

Wednesday, June 28, 2006

You know your life is changing when...

you go to the grocery store needing one item (12 pack of lemonade), get so pissed off because it’s $4 instead of Walmart’s $2.75 that you walk out. I’m becoming an ornery old man.

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

College Friend Is Coming Back!

Friday the old college friend is coming over again. We’re doing chicken on the grill this time, last time it was burgers. I’m pretty much screwed for the third get together as that’s about all I know how to make. I guess I could pick up some steaks but if I put that on this page I’ll have 15 people over. I think I forgot to mention the underwear story. First time she came over I was drying off from a shower when I heard my phone ring. So I raced to get it, missed the call but it was her, she was lost (typical woman driver) but I could see her truck from my window (yes I had a towel on). I pointed her in the right direction, hung up the phone, and continued to dry off. Luckily I had a pair of underwear with me in the bathroom (living alone you can get away with being naked), and as I was walking out I see her standing in the living room. Hello, nice to see you after five years, yes, I’m standing here in my tighty bluees (I don’t like white, shows the skid marks), but if you give me a second I’ll go put some clothes on. Or maybe I should have suggested we both strip down a bit. Yeah, that’s it, I haven’t seen you in five years but I thought we could dine in our underwear. So this Friday I will be more prepared and be fully clothed, maybe I’ll wear my cheerleading outfit and thong.

Mouse Hunt

My friend is going to kill me for this, but it’s his own damn fault for telling me the story after he has read my entire blog. Did you really think I wouldn’t post this? So he has a mouse or two scurrying around his house. He buys a couple mouse traps, loads them up with peanut butter (same stuff he uses on the wifey), and sets them out before going to bed. Middle of the night he hears a WHACK and wakes up. He figures it’s one of the traps and gets up out of bed. Yep, there’s Mickey Mouse, struggling to get out. Supposedly the trap is supposed to kill them instantly but he’s frantically trying to get out (while taking a leak on my friend’s floor). Now D is not that much of a manly man, I’d be surprised if he has a hammer in his house. If he does I’m sure his wife uses it more than he does. So he’s wondering what to do with the mouse who’s slowly working his way out of the trap. He picks up the trap and decides he’s going to flush it down the toilet (because drowning a mouse is much more humane than smacking it on the head a couple times). He gets to the toilet and accidentally drops the mouse and the trap in the can. Since the trap won’t go down the drain he runs to the closet and finds some rubber gloves (like I said, manly man). But by the time he gets back to the bathroom Mickey’s lungs are full of the finest Brookfield toilet water. If I were a mouse in his house I’d hope the trap would do me in.

Karaoke Freaks

What is up with karaoke and the whole karaoke crowd? This group of people will go to this bar on Monday, this bar on Tuesday, a different one on Wednesday, constantly following the karaoke DJs. Just a little lame? True, my opinion is a little biased, I completely hate karaoke. I know plenty of others who feel the same, leaving promptly when the strangers roll in and the bad singing starts. They turn the tranquil corner pub into an obnoxiously loud recording studio with some moron trying to sing a Michael Jackson song (like I really wanted to hear Michael Jackson). And of course they can’t just stand back in the corner and sing their MJ, no, they have to stroll around the room and make themselves visible (who the hell invented wireless mics?). I had one guy stand so close to me that I could hear his voice from his mouth over the insanely loud speakers. Can you say invasion of personal space? Dude, unless you have a nice rack, GET OFF MY ASS! So on karaoke nights I usually grab the seat in the corner by the door, shielded from the 8 foot high speakers and saving myself from watching some dude do a rendition of Mr. Roboto. Oh yeah, dancing and everything. Only problem with sitting in the corner is that the bar opening is right there. All these people who are ruining my nice quiet evening are standing right next to me getting drinks. Yes, I secretly want to spit in every one. No, not really, but when they bring up 5 empty glasses and put them right in front of me I get a little irritated. Granted karaoke does bring in a couple women and the guys who run the karaoke are pretty cool, it’s just not for me. I think I’m going to custom design a t-shirt and hand it out to my friends. “Yes, you’re in my bar. And yes, your singing sucks.” In smaller letters down below, “If you have a nice rack you can practice singing in my shower with me.”

Saturday, June 24, 2006

Washing Clothes

Washing clothes like every other day now. I've been going to the gym every day during lunch and jogging at night so I run out of gym clothes. And it's been humid here lately so the work clothes don't smell too hot by the time I get home. Don't have air conditioning in the Jeep, I figured it has a soft top so why get the air option, just take the top off when it's warm. I didn't realize it takes 10 minutes to take the top off and it's a real pain in the ass. So doing laundry, how does every tshirt come out of the drier inside out? Ok, maybe not all of them, but a good 90% do. I hate folding clothes (you should see my room right now, it's all clean but it's also all over) and when you have to take every inside out shirt (and underwear now that I think of it) and fix them it takes forever. So, next time I'm going to put them in the wash inside out and see what happens. Think it will work? Which machine is the culpret, the washer or the drier? Or are they in colusion, the washer does half and the drier does the other half? You see ads on TV for "smart" washers and driers, think those keep the shirts in the proper manner? I never thought I'd get my ass kicked every week by those two machines. And the worst part is the humbling feeling that this ass kicking will continue till I either 1) win the lottery, 2) get married, or 3) die. Oh, almost forget, Shandoll (drunk and single in nyc) posted to my inspiration blog, I'm touched.

Friday, June 23, 2006

Anxiety Attack

Chiropractor day, I think I had an anxiety attack on the way there, don't ask me why. I usually only go to the doc's office once a year (annual checkup, should probably have the liver functions checked out this time). It was warm out, a little humid, I had to walk 15 blocks to get there. When I get 3 blocks away I start sweating profusly. I hadn't picked up the pace or done anything different, just started soaking my shirt. I get in the door and I'm checking in, sweat rolling down my face, neck, and yes I can feel it running down my back. I go use the bathroom to mop up, dry my face, dry my back, but by the time I'm done with my back my face is soaked again. Vicous cycle. Woman pulls me into a room to find out what's wrong with me, in there 2 minutes and she yells out the door "Susan, could you turn the air on?" Yes, I was still wiping sweat off my face 10 minutes after I walked in the door but now I'm feeling better with relief in sight. Go to a different room, doc comes in and thankfully he has me take my shirt off and get on the table. I feel sorry for this guy who has to touch my back and find out what's wrong with me. Really nice guy though, works the shit out of my back/shoulder and even found a sore spot I hadn't noticed before. When I got back to work people said I looked like I got worked over pretty well, I think I was just drained from the attack. I just hope it doesn't happen again when I go for the annual checkup. Those usually go really well till she has me drop my pants and starts feeling my testicles, first time she said "Oh, nice", I'm not shitting you. And of course that's at the end of the visit with the anticipation building every minute, usually have at least a little extra growth down there no matter what disgusting things I try to think about. And it doesn't help that she looks better and better every time I see her. Never dated a doc before, hmmm...

Friend From College - Hot!

Ok, grilled out with a friend from college, oh my goodness, she's damn cool but as always I'm brutaly honest and spilled my guts on my dating habits, might have screwed that one up. But how often do you see someone for the first time in 6 years (sorry, vaguely remember the Summerfest encounter) and you're like totally in sinc with the person? I would hope there's something there but I'm not going to force the issue, I think she might be involved with someone (pretty sure) and I wouldn't want to put a damper on that, I can be nice once in a while. Totally cool though, pretty much the ideal mate. So if she reads this I hope she'll give me a signal because I don't want to interupt her life, got a lot going on with new job and all. But... Ok, here's the real post of the day, sorry, got side tracked with woman issues. But they were good woman issues.

# of Drinks

So a month ago I was lifting weights during lunch and wanted to see if I could do the amount of weight on the bench press that I was doing before my “minor” car accident 5 years ago. I rack the bar up so it’s sitting at 240 lbs and slide underneath it. Looking at the bar I’m thinking “Ya know, you haven’t done this much weight in a long time but come on, don’t be a pussy, you used to do this 10 times, you should easily get at least 5 up.” Numbers 1-6 go surprisingly well, number 7 not so well. I’m lucky to get it back on the rack as my shoulder is informing me of my age. Ever since then I’ve had this pain, nothing horrible, but I know it’s there, LIKE EVERY TIME I TAKE A DEEP BREATHE!!! Deep breathes give me a constant pain as a reminder of my bonehead idea. I can still lift weights but I know something’s not right. Haven’t seen a chiropractor in years but I figure it’s been a month and it hasn’t gone away, might as well have it checked out. I find a place that my insurance covers about 15 blocks from work. Call them up, scheduled the appointment, and was directed to their website where they have new patient forms available for downloading. I download it, first page is no biggie, name, address, occupation, health insurance info. Second page halfway down under HABITS:
Smoking ______ packs/day ______
Drinking ______ alcohol ______
Coffee ______ cups/day ______

Uh, do I have to answer these? Are they that relevant to making my shoulder feel better? For the drinking, what if I lie and say zero? What if I don’t lie so much and say 6? What if I give a real approximation of 20? Even in that case I’m still lying since who the hell keeps track once you get over 10? Lucky for me they didn’t leave a space big enough for a triple digit number. But talk about a wake up call, having to face the harsh reality that you may consume just a little bit too much (not a lot, just a bit too much). Makes you look at your life and reflect on your lifestyle. I tell myself I need to make a change, point myself in a new direction. So tonight I’m going to the corner bar for some quality time reflecting on my habits while consuming 20 of their finest beverages. Oh, and for the new patient form, I put down 7!!!!

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

Inspiration From NYC

As you can see on the right hand side I have linked a woman’s blog (drunk and single in nyc) who inspired me to start my own. I’m starting to think that we had the same parents, she was just misplaced at birth (or maybe I was discarded, her parents live in Long Island, I want to live in Long Island). We pretty much have the same sense of humor, sarcasm, outlook on life, but I think she might be just a bit more intelligent than myself. I seriously spent a good 8 hours reading her blog and let me tell you, it messed up my mind for a whole weekend. She has so many fucked up stories/issues that it is just a bit disturbing. And the worst part is I can relate to most of them. So if you get a chance check out Shandoll’s blog, she has a lot of good shit on there. Think she’ll let me stay with her so I can experience New York?

40ish Woman

To the hot 40ish woman who works out at the gym: thank you! Watching you do bench presses (even if it is only the bar) with your finely sculpted faux breasts standing at attention is a thing of beauty. Most days you don’t venture into the weight room and stay in the cardio area, but trust me, every man appreciates it when you do, every man from the college age to the old ass retired lawyers. So to you I say thank you, thank you for making the workout a very enjoyable experience.

Oh, and for all you Milwaukeeans, SAVE DUSTIN DIAMOND!!!

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

Locker By The Shitter

Ok, so I go to the gym every day during the lunch hour. Marquette must have 10 different staff working the front desk (tall cute chic from the spring must have gone home for the summer, boo hoo). I always ask for a locker and a towell, they ask if I have a preferred locked and being the non-demanding guy that I am I say no. So how is it 50% of the time I'm stuck right next to the bathroom? There must be 300 lockers there and I always get B35 (ok, today it was B36 but still right by the shitter). All these old retired lawyers (lawyers suck by the way J) taking naked dumps right next to the locker I seem to be destined to get. That's right, naked dumps, cause heaven forbid you wrap a towel around your fat naked ass. I should walk around naked with my shaved pubes, but I think there might be a couple guys who are light on their feet who frequent the gym. Back to the locker, I have to undress (pants, shirt, socks, shoes, whole works) with this stench that is worse than one of my collosal farts (I've been known for my potency). No air flow, just this cloud lingering outside the bathroom door. And then of course get dressed into the workout clothes. Granted I'm a guy and it doesn't take that long but it seems like foooooooorrrrrrrreeeeeeevvvvvvvveeeeeeeerrrrrrr when you can hardly breathe. So, as you can guess, from now on I'm requesting a different locker, the one right in front of the mirror so I can admire my sexy bod!!!

Sunday, June 18, 2006

Just Weekend Shit

Ok, the weekend, geez again. Friday, not much going on at the corner, got up there around 10 o'clock. Saturday was much better, arrived at 8:00, still sober at 1:00. Good night, friend of friend was dancing all night, good shit, big (big big) woman shaking her ass off, think she went home with the friend but not sure. Friend's daughter walked over that night and her peeps, only problem with that was they are just a bit younger than me. Oopps. Oh well, shit happens. Her dad was supposed to come over too but I think he was getting busy with the big girl. That's usually my job. So goes my life. Sitting here on Sunday, 4.5 pitchers into it, and writing this. Andy and Eddie are playing dice, not letting us play Georgia, bastards. Miami Heat game just finished, can't believe they came back to lead the series at 3-2. Back to the weekend shit, watered the lawn religously, grass is growing in the front yard. Good thing. Had three ex's in the bar last night, nothing unusual. Have just one in here tonight but that one is enough.

Ok, so what is with my love of dark skinned women? I actually got another friend to appreciate the same, the female lawyer (see J Dawg link on the right). Something about dark skinned women, black, hispanic, or just tan, doesn't matter, they're all good to go. Dark skin, nice body, that's all it takes. Well, personallity has something to do with it but... Ok, have to shut down, peeps checking me out as I'm typing so I have to log off. Peace out, back to you later. Word

Friday, June 16, 2006

Roundy's Vodka

Last night's activities, sheesh. First off, tired as hell, almost fell asleep sitting outside at 8:30. Couple vodka lemonades woke me up a little, went up to the corner to catch the end of the basketball game (never seen a finals where both teams have 20 point victories under their belts). Oh, about the lemonades, I was at the store browsing the vods and saw a 1.75 L bottle for $10. I thought hey, how bad can it be? Once I got it home I noticed the lable said "Rowndy's" on it, but it's not that bad. Good enough for my cheap ass. So, at the corner, pretty hot 40 yr old sitting not far from me, again, not that bad. End up in a Georgia game with her, gave her a little advice with the dice, chatting just a little and she buys me a shot of Tequila (yuck). I'm thinking, am I good to go home with her or not? Well, guess not, but she did say bye on the way out. I should have made my intensions more obvious, all this while asian sleepover partner is about 5 feet away. I've done worse. Speaking of whom, asian chic has become a regular now, not good, I think she's stalking me, but she puts out so... So asian sleepover partner and I are getting it on (good shit), and I hear voices in my living room. What the fuck?! Must have left the front door unlocked, I have 3 people sitting on my couches drinking my beer! Again, what the fuck?! Pretty much had to kick them out forcefully, I was not a happy camper. And then we resume the bedroom activities... Neighborhood kids, bro and sis, about 10, riding a mountain bike together, bro was peddling and sis was sitting on the seat. And they only crashed once that I saw, still got right back on the bike. Tonight I'm loading up my 10-speed from 15 years ago and I'm going to give it to them. I've seen her spill so many times it's painful, last night went head first into a bush. I finally have grass growing in my front yard, seeds took their time in sprouting. This afternoon I will go dig into other issues like my stinky farts at the bar and my addiction to dark skinned women.

Thursday, June 15, 2006

Thursday 15th Activities

Last night was dice night at the corner. We play a game called Georgia, 6 dice, 1's and 5's are 100/50, three of a kind is face value, first one to 10,000 wins the pot ($3 each person). Didn't win a game but won $20 on a side bet with main man Gary. Generally a fun night, nice and quiet. I was going to get in to Gary vs. Sarah but I wasn't actually there to witness it, guess he called her stupid or something (which she is) and she blew up for 20 minutes, heard her eyes were almost coming to tears. But that's Sarah, boo hoo. Life goes on. Let's see, what else, went to the dentist, $127 out the door. Why do they always give you a tooth brush, floss, and gum? I asked the hygenist for something cool like an MP3 player but got the same old shit as usual. Went jogging last night but didn't make it far, leg presses and jogging on Monday had my legs feeling like crap, totally tight and fatigued after 1 mile, had to walk back home, thank goodness it didn't rain. Speaking of rain, it hasn't done that here lately, we've been blessed with some nice Wisconsin weather. And along with nice weather comes the cheap beer on the back porch. $13 for a 30 pack, can't go wrong there. Been trying to drop a couple pounds lately, wouldn't mind being 210 lbs on my 6'5" frame, but there's always the cheap beer holding me back. That's about it in my exciting life. Oh wait, ex girlfriend last night, only one of them in the bar, kind of surprised to wake up next to her this morning. Had to kick her out as I was leaving for work. Tonight it's vod and lemonade on the patio with best bud Andy. Patio for now, Pops and I are building the deck July 19th. I'll be pimping then. Peace out to the homies.

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

Dating From The Same Watering Hole

How many people can you date at the corner bar before it becomes too many? Seems like I routinely have three ex's in the same establishment at the same time several times a week. And we're not talking a big bar, I think max capacity is 100. They all know each other or know of each other, and still one of them will want to "get together" with me on any given night. I know, I'm bad. Guess that's how I got the rule #7 on the wall, "Don't go home with anyone named me." Even the neighborhood gay guy looks at me funny some times. So what's the magic cut off number? 6? 7? 15? Mind you the last one and I lasted about 2 weeks, we were seen together so often we were call Brulie (her name was Julie). I got bored as usual and decided to end it. Pretty sad when you'd rather not have sex at all than have sex with that person, but that's how it usually works. And it was even good sex. So I'll wait patiently for a month till the next one rolls around. Usually all it takes is the bartender pointing out rule #7 and it sparks a woman's interest. When I tell them I live in a house 90 steps away they're usually open to the idea of a good one nighter. Life is rough, I know. I'll get to "Gary vs. Sarah" in the next issue.