Arsenal lost to Manure United. Worst loss ever. Team decimated.
Arsenal lost to Manure United. Worst loss ever. Team decimated.
I had a fantastic post last night but typepad wouldn't save it. Typepad's spellchecker also underlines "Wouldn't" and also "typepad's" and, yet, strangely, not ' "wouldn't" '.
I bowled a 247 today. Meh.
I have a bowling date with a 24 year old redhead nurse from North Carolina who attended Villanova. She's adorable and likes soccer. I'm 36.
That is all. Now the save button...
The Kindle is the greatest thing ever made! I'm not joking. It's rad. I now have downloaded The Road by Cormac Mccarthy and The Gamble by Thomas Ricks (Bush/Iraq shit). It loads books in like 10 seconds. The display is awesome. You can make NOTES!!! The prices are sub-paperback and you retain rights to them forever even if your Kindle explodes! Reading the thing is actually better than a book! You don't need to put your thumb in the fold! You don't need to lug around the bulk of the book! The damn thing can store roughly 1000 normal books! You can get foreign language newspapers for $.75! I can study German now with Germany's truly right-wing newspaper! Bad! The New York Times is $.75 an issue or $14/week!
This platform is no bullshit good.
Holy shit I'm pleased with this thing.
It is now addictive. If it had a penis I would work it!
And. God. The portability! Am I a bit too enthusiastic? Whomever's idea this was needs a giant pay raise and/or permanent harem. It is genious. You want to read the paper? Boom! Anywhere and not paper! It's easy. Amazon makes money. You just saw by chance a book review that interested you from a random source? BOOM! You can spontaneously buy the damn thing on the Kindle! Cha-Ching!
What a money making medium. I'm very impressed with the marketing strategy is what I'm saying.
It arrives on Tuesday (today). I'm very excited because the reviews are apparently awesome. The first version had some problems that are comparable to the first year of the Dodge Neon. Generally functional crap.
This one looks like a big iPhone. I hate the iPhone. But I like books but don't like the paper commitment or the storage. It's fucking rad.
Here's a LiNk.
Baseball is soon.
I drew the attention of one very cute girl on Thursday night at work. I was apparently being very charming to a group of regulars who happen to be friendly with me and they happened to have a friend who was new to me. I found her attractive. Goth bangs in the black hair and a nice round butt with skinny legs. I was talking shit and she gestured calling me on my arrogant talk but provocatively. That was neat. I later invited my friend and her to bowling on Sunday (yesterday) and texted Sunday afternoon. The girl I wanted texted back that she was looking for her dog and was upset.
The life of a bartender.
***Just say you changed your mind girls*** None of the exotic don't-hurt-the-guy's-feelings shit please.
My roommate, the girl one, is the tour manager for this band. She said Letterman was a surreal experience in that the night that this band played there, it was, to the day, 41 years since the Beatles played the Sullivan room. Pretty fucking cool.
Added to all this, it was seriously cool to see three good friends play their asses off and sound really really good. Fun it was to see Erika sportin the Chrissie Hynde look. "Howdy!" as she would say. Mark on lead guitar dancing around pulling off the awesome chord slide. My platonic boyfriend Jesse wearing the same jacket he always wears. We watched the superbowl together and I'm working on getting him into bowling. He doesn't know it yet. The drummer Dave I've never met. Apparently he's Jesse times two according to roommate.
Good things lay ahead for them I believe.
Great freaking song.
I haven't loved anyone in quite a few years.
Listening to Smog isn't helping me right now after the love fest at work tonight.
Joo Joo remembers the last person I loved. The porch episode we had with the sobby before she (the girl I liked) raced off to Japan. That was a bad day.
Oh well. Spring training starts in a few days.
Good girls are hard to find and I usually fuck it up with inaction.
Sorry. I didn't like it for the same reasons I didn't like Friendster. I was getting friend requests from scary people and people I don't talk to for a reason. These sites feel like a really big open bedroom window facing a busy street that is filled with weirdos who want to hang out with me. I don't need any more friends and I'm not in a band and I get enough face time with strangers by working in a bar.
Think about how searchable my name is. I don't even use the full name online because of this. I would also discourage all of you from using it too. I have a crazy ex-girlfriend from high school that stalks me from time to time. It's weird.
I also want to spend less time on the internet and more time on books and looking around. That's one reason I like bowling. You get prolonged periods of time doing one zen-like thing and it's quite rewarding. Try imagining what your life was like before the rampaging internet. What did you do to fill time? How long could you ponder a thought without hitting Google? How's your memory? Remember when you could memorize 30 or 40 phone numbers? I can recall exactly four. Mine, Dad's, work and Dart Bowl.
I haven't broken any bones, married anyone, kissed anything in 3 months, fucked lately, been in a car wreck, developed any sores, seen a plane crash with a decent result and am waiting on fucking spring training. Hell. MLB tickets haven't even gone on sale yet and it's still cold outside.
I'm in a fucking rut. I find myself driving around lately for no reason on the off chance I might find something new to do or maybe witness a shoot-out between cops and a generic bad guy.
I don't want to see a movie. Psynchodeiceoeechee cured me of that. I'm currently bowled out (I did the 297, right?) while that muscle between my thumb and forefinger is simply bulging with nuclear power. I spent an hour at End of an Ear today only to buy the following: Eno - Warm Jets, Boston Spaceships - Brown Submarine, the new (?) Rudy Schwartz Project and The Gun Club - Fire of Love. I'm not sure I wanted to buy any of that. I'm bored. I did get a haircut that looks like I'm in the SS and really really mean. I've cleaned the house to an extreme.
I think I'm just sick of winter. Even good food doesn't interest me.
BTW: Ichiban is a suck palace now. New owners. Chefs can't even make the rice right. Don't waste your time. Maybe that's why I'm in a funk. Good sushi deficit. I will say that the 20 times that I've had the verde cheese enchiladas at Aranda's # 3 this month were excellent.
Wait a second! My inspection sticker is out!!! That'll be awesome.
UPDATE!: I saw two cats fucking in the storm drain just now. The one with the penis winked at me.
UPDATE2!: I left a note on my neighbor's car explaining to him that his car battery is dead because his brake light switch is stuck open and therefore bad. The same happened last night but I didn't think much of it. He probably woke up this morning to a dead battery and had it replaced not really understanding why it died. I feel kind of shitty now but you gotta learn that VWs suck the hard way.
If I were to kill my blog I would not be refunded $ for the balance of my annual subscription therefore can't kill it. Yet. That would be a waste of money.
Ironically, today, I have a bit of post-worthy news:
Sorry about the image quality. I don't know how to photograph white very well but HOLY FUCKING SHIT.
Look at that! I was almost hallucinating in the 9th frame and most def was in the 12th. My arms were jello and shakey. My vision was blurred and all I could hear is "thump, thump, thump". Adrenalin and endorphins. This was better than that one time in a poker game I caught AAK on a flop while holding the other two aces to make 4 of a kind and the other guy had KK and was betting in to me and calling my raise and then reraising me all-in to make a pot of around $400 while I knew he was dead and I had to keep my shit together so as not to give away my hand. That was special. This is something else.
I'm researching the probabilities. I've been bowling seriously for 3 months now.
Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! I've had a serious headache since 9 p.m.
Oh course the first thing that was said to me when I showed off the score sheet to an adoring fan was, "What about these three pins?", pointing at the 7 in the extra frame. (Grammar help requested. Commas before quotes?) Argh.
Update: My friend just summed up this experience, the feelings I had, as "chasing the Dragon". That seems about right. I should have gotten laid.