October 2006 Archives

This is temporary, as are all things.

Six of us bothered to show up to our Ultimate Frisbee game last night. That would be Six of Fourteen, and we need a minimum of Seven to actually play. We raised a flag to the opposing team, alerting them to our situation and handing them a Notice of Forfeit. They decided in fairness to give us a man so we could still play and we accepted their offer. We are the lowest ranked team of the Eight in The League, and this team was ranked First or Second. It was a bereft attempt on our part, but it felt good to feign ability and it felt good to move on the field and it was cold as ever and short sleeves and numb hands didn't help us run and jump and catch and run and throw but fall, much.

We scored One point. Contentment is warm.

Last week during our game a Soccer-bred High School kid pointed out to his teammates that I was covering him and that at any point he desired he could break away and that there was nothing I could do about it. He broke away and scored--there was nothing I could do about that. Last night I was covering a guy who either was holding back or honestly was about the same speed as I am, until the tallest guy on the field decided to switch it up. He broke for the disc convinced that I couldn't do much about it until I pivoted, jumped, flailed, and knocked that shit to the ground.

Do it you fuckers, do it do it.

Tonight is a birthday at La Perla. Next Friday is a birthday at La Fuentes. These things happen. Margarita Pitchers are delicious. I drank one-point-five of them a little over two months ago when situations were a little less assured than they seem to be now. Things can progress and change rather quickly, but it's nice to know some are static; I heart pizza, and I sure as hell heart pitcher.

Assurances are fickle, though. We have our new manager starting today at work, replacing the one that took over two weeks ago to fill in for the manager who took over three months ago to replace the one that ended up filling in for them who was really just here in the first place to cover an absence of a manager after our buddy was "found out", in a way. It's not as confusing as it might seem.

And as such I can't take too much time with musings. But this isn't static, it is temporary. So it's okay.

I feel like I'm working in a Guy Maddin-directed snow-globe. C'mon you Film Students--you know.

Oh, you know.

It's snowing outside. It pulled this same stunt last night as well, when I was scouring the Half-Price Books on Brown Deer Rd for prizes. All I know is that the past three Christmukkah's (and there have been only three) have been nearly devoid of Deposition-Prone Crystalline Water Vapor, so finding its presence so early in the year... huh.

And don't get me wrong--I have experienced those slushed Halloween's. But the fact of the matter is when I walk outside of work to a cold that's not quite winter-bitter, and a sky that is predominately Fall Cloud-laden yet also besmirched with sockets of bright, oceanic blue and entirely overtoned with the outline of a purple-and-red Monet sunset... Also: add to this walking into a flurry of snowflakes that evaporate before hitting the ground, and it's just fucking Maddin. It's like Twilight of The Ice Nymphs, only in Menomonee Falls. It's like the Flying Spaghetti Monster just decided Impressionism and Surrealism were both pretty neat.

So--Slushed Halloween's. I've had a couple of those as well, only the adult version seems to have some slight... variances from the Hallow Eve's of Yesteryear. In spirit of the season, however, there was a Pumpkin carving last night that carried the weight of some sort of symbolic gesture of affection. Now the fact that the Pumpkin in its Final Incarnation appeared to be diagnosed with Down Syndrome and also was sporting a near-dynamite Hitler mustache...I'm not sure what that states about said affection, but it's still pretty awesome. I also contributed Peter Gallagher eyebrows to the fold, so there's that.

Look at those things! For Serious! The fact that they could take someone's eye out and he keeps them right there shows you that Peter Gallagher isn't fucking around.

I also kind of wanted to make a Meatwad Pumpkin and had a design to back it up:

But apparently that wasn't physically feasibly.

I also plan to bring you folks my new hit cartoon, about a street-wise one armed teenage vampire just trying to get by in this crazy, mixed-up world:

I think I'll call it Billy: The Street-wise Teenage Vampire Just Trying to Get By in This Crazy, Mixed-up World.

It is a Thursday and the work hour is waning; As such I don't feel very compelled to keep this zany blog bonanza going any longer than I have to. Because It Is THURSDAY and The Work Hour Is WANING. P's and P's await, followed by B's (2) and C's (1).

There is a shindig up and coming. If you're not in the know then we have probably thought about it and don't particularly like you. I'd say I feel bad... but we don't particularly like you. What don't you understand?