Well, I'm back and suffering like a vampire after spending 2 and a half weeks working a 10 hour graveyard shift, 6 days a week. It took me days to get used to the schedule, and the entire time, I was draining out of my sinuses like a down spout in a rainstorm. The screwed up part is: I'm a confirmed insomniac. Change up my routine, and I just...don't...sleep...
When my boss asked me if I could help out a remodel of an Office Depot in Vancouver, like an idiot, I thought, "cool ass! I can take a vacation from my current duties!" Then I realized that I was being volunteered.
Even when I left work for the last time in a few weeks, I saw a penny on the ground and I thought, "oooOOooo! that's good luck!" Only later did I remember what happened to Lincoln. I still don't know why we equate the visage of ol' Abe with being "lucky" I mean, the guy was a big goony ugly man. Y'know when people paint presidential pictures, they always try to handsome up the pic. Big noses get shorted, weak chins get heroically proportioned.
Lincoln's looks like Herman Munster. Makes you wonder what he really looked like!
I won't even go into the theater thing. But as I recall, people say that if a penny is "face down" the "luck"s running out. Gruesome...eww...
But I thought I would need some luck: Last time I did an overnight remodel of a store several years ago, I cracked my spine.
I was putting up a huge 12 foot high shelf, placed six feet from the side wall, so the store can create a lock up area. My brilliant assistant manager insisted that we place all the heavy items on the inside of this wall only, and worry about the outside tomorrow. So, physics decided to make him it's bitch and collapsed the metal wall upon me and two other workers.
When they finally unburied us, they found me bracing the steel wall against the brickwork, making a small hole for the other two. And for my impromptu heroism, I suffered two cracked vertebrae, and i had convince the assistant manager I needed medical attention, and that bones shouldn't feel and sound like a box of crushed cornflakes.
Anyway, your life gets really messed up when you go to work at 7pm, work till 7am, can't sleep cuz you're so wired till 11am. THEN you pass out at 11am and wake up at 6pm, just to have an hour to get ready for work again. You see more night than day. And when I could smell, all I smelled were sweaty co-workers who thought, "why shower?" I, myself, didn't shave for a few days at a time. When I finally shaved for my first official day back at my home Office depot, I cut my face to shreds. Let me tell you, looking non-dapper is dangerous.
I pumped myself up with zingers and caffeine. A BIG no-no for me! But I needed to stay awake. My system is so messed up, and started thinking lunches consisted of breakfast burritos.
And so, I'm back, and WIDE awake at 3:10am
Sucks. Net even any good TV on...
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Numbness of Creativity
As I sit amongs the various cables, wires, guitars and vox boxes, i'm desperatly trying to fight the creative brainfart. I have about four ideas to toy around with and nothing solid. It doesn't help that i have that I have that Burger King "Big Buckin' Chicken" song in my head.
My week as been kind of a creative brainfart.
I need to try to take a bottle brush and clear out my head. I apologize ahead of time if any of this makes no sense, frightens any of you, creates hidious dreams.
I was eating a sandwich at a blimpys when I overheard a younger man talking to an older one. He said, and I quote, "yeah...when I graduate, i wanna either be a rapper...or a hotel manager." I have to say, i stopped eating and tuned in on this conversation. I wanted to so hear how if you failed to be a rapper, the next logical step to hone your "mad playah skillz", is to be a hotel manager.
Y'know what bugs me? When you call someone on the phone, and they have an answering machine message that plays like this: four minutes of a metal tune you can hardly make out due to being played into a mike the size of a hair folicle, then a monotone sleepy voiced "i'm not here right now, leave a message". What the hell was the mini concert about? At least sing that last part if i am forced to hear your tune.
I wake up almost every morning to the sounds of a Girls Gone Wild infomercial on TV in the background. Somehow, I don't think that could be healthy...
How can you not outrun a Zombie? I was watching a horror movie, and even though these bad posture puppets are moving like an old lady with a walker, they always seem to catch the young living couple that can run, much like there are zombies on their tail. And why can't a zombie eat another zombie? They move the same speed, so the chase would be short.
On almost every set of instruction on preparing a boxed dinner, the final instruction is, "Serve, and enjoy!" Which is excellent, because I was just going to toss it in the garbage after I cooked it, and grow dispondent. And the box cover has the legend "serving suggestion" on the pic of the finished food, I'm assuming so they can't be sued by people feeling they have been shoehorned into having to use a plate to place the product for eating. What would be cool, is if they would put a pic of a girl wearing my strogonoff as a bikini, on the box.
Now THATS a suggestion!
When someone tastes spoiled milk, why do they always do this: "ewwwwghh! taste this!". After that review? But of course! Let me burst a blood vessel in my eye from trying not to retch downing chunkey curds and whey. What am I supposed to say? "Goddamn, that IS bad!". Doesn't it show how much I respect your opinion by just taking your word on that?
My week as been kind of a creative brainfart.
I need to try to take a bottle brush and clear out my head. I apologize ahead of time if any of this makes no sense, frightens any of you, creates hidious dreams.
I was eating a sandwich at a blimpys when I overheard a younger man talking to an older one. He said, and I quote, "yeah...when I graduate, i wanna either be a rapper...or a hotel manager." I have to say, i stopped eating and tuned in on this conversation. I wanted to so hear how if you failed to be a rapper, the next logical step to hone your "mad playah skillz", is to be a hotel manager.
Y'know what bugs me? When you call someone on the phone, and they have an answering machine message that plays like this: four minutes of a metal tune you can hardly make out due to being played into a mike the size of a hair folicle, then a monotone sleepy voiced "i'm not here right now, leave a message". What the hell was the mini concert about? At least sing that last part if i am forced to hear your tune.
I wake up almost every morning to the sounds of a Girls Gone Wild infomercial on TV in the background. Somehow, I don't think that could be healthy...
How can you not outrun a Zombie? I was watching a horror movie, and even though these bad posture puppets are moving like an old lady with a walker, they always seem to catch the young living couple that can run, much like there are zombies on their tail. And why can't a zombie eat another zombie? They move the same speed, so the chase would be short.
On almost every set of instruction on preparing a boxed dinner, the final instruction is, "Serve, and enjoy!" Which is excellent, because I was just going to toss it in the garbage after I cooked it, and grow dispondent. And the box cover has the legend "serving suggestion" on the pic of the finished food, I'm assuming so they can't be sued by people feeling they have been shoehorned into having to use a plate to place the product for eating. What would be cool, is if they would put a pic of a girl wearing my strogonoff as a bikini, on the box.
Now THATS a suggestion!
When someone tastes spoiled milk, why do they always do this: "ewwwwghh! taste this!". After that review? But of course! Let me burst a blood vessel in my eye from trying not to retch downing chunkey curds and whey. What am I supposed to say? "Goddamn, that IS bad!". Doesn't it show how much I respect your opinion by just taking your word on that?
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Foolish days and the Time Released Joke
I don't particulaly like April Fools Day. Everyone always assumes you're full of crap. It's a day where you have to assume anyone who tells you anything, is setting you up. But I now realize that this caution I get over April 1st stems over an incident I was a part of as a child:
I was home from middle school with my bowl of CherriO's and all ready to watch RoboTech and finish up my sugar induced high with some Speed Racer and kimba cartoons, when the phone rang. My sister Diane was calling, sounding a mite frantic. She tells me she needs for me to call our mom, because she at the hospital with a broken ankle, that mysteriously happened at school.
But hey, I'm no fool!! I know it's april first, and Diane wasn't above fooling me. She has successfully in the past. But y'know what? I'm a pre-teen now! I can make my own midday cerial! She ain't putting this one over on me! And I promtly told her "yeah right..." and hung up...
And hours later she came home on crutches and a cast on her leg.
April 1st is the only day where paranoia is actually encouraged. You tell people something, and they automatically assume you're setting them up as a fool. And somehow, we're all supposed to be good natured about this. You made an idiot out of me in public, gimmie a hug you funny funny guy! You're hidious prank has caused me great anguish and cracmed my tailbone...but you say it's april fools day? Well then, touche' my good man! My inner scarring of not trusting you for the chance of a not so astonishing jest will be a padge i'll wear most proudly.
Besides, it's more of a challange to do this any other day, with dry wit and penosh ;)
I propose we change April first from playing pranks on people, to just sneaking up and kicking them on the ass. Anyone can do that without too much prep work. Even the humorless can get in on the fun. And when would you get the chance to put the boot to someone who would otherwise either fire you, or place their fist to your face?
Oh, and you wanna know how to pull a good joke? Back on 12/21/06, I wrote the blog "Pull The String", and it started with the following:
Someone at my work reminded me of this story, and dammit, it would have been absolutly perfect to tell this tale on Halloween! It's weird. it's spoooky. It's true. And it's very much like a henwhey.
According to my sitemeter, 34 people read that post, and that line. Kinda cool, since I really don't know that many people...but NO one asked me, "Whats a Henwhey?"
So, whats a Henwhey?
About two pounds. (rimshot)
I was home from middle school with my bowl of CherriO's and all ready to watch RoboTech and finish up my sugar induced high with some Speed Racer and kimba cartoons, when the phone rang. My sister Diane was calling, sounding a mite frantic. She tells me she needs for me to call our mom, because she at the hospital with a broken ankle, that mysteriously happened at school.
But hey, I'm no fool!! I know it's april first, and Diane wasn't above fooling me. She has successfully in the past. But y'know what? I'm a pre-teen now! I can make my own midday cerial! She ain't putting this one over on me! And I promtly told her "yeah right..." and hung up...
And hours later she came home on crutches and a cast on her leg.
April 1st is the only day where paranoia is actually encouraged. You tell people something, and they automatically assume you're setting them up as a fool. And somehow, we're all supposed to be good natured about this. You made an idiot out of me in public, gimmie a hug you funny funny guy! You're hidious prank has caused me great anguish and cracmed my tailbone...but you say it's april fools day? Well then, touche' my good man! My inner scarring of not trusting you for the chance of a not so astonishing jest will be a padge i'll wear most proudly.
Besides, it's more of a challange to do this any other day, with dry wit and penosh ;)
I propose we change April first from playing pranks on people, to just sneaking up and kicking them on the ass. Anyone can do that without too much prep work. Even the humorless can get in on the fun. And when would you get the chance to put the boot to someone who would otherwise either fire you, or place their fist to your face?
Oh, and you wanna know how to pull a good joke? Back on 12/21/06, I wrote the blog "Pull The String", and it started with the following:
Someone at my work reminded me of this story, and dammit, it would have been absolutly perfect to tell this tale on Halloween! It's weird. it's spoooky. It's true. And it's very much like a henwhey.
According to my sitemeter, 34 people read that post, and that line. Kinda cool, since I really don't know that many people...but NO one asked me, "Whats a Henwhey?"
So, whats a Henwhey?
About two pounds. (rimshot)
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