RKMBs Forums JULY 2005

and there's your july, right there.

so, alright then. we've gotta july. there's some singin, some dancin. other fucked up nonsense that we can all embrace and enjoy. or at least make fun of. cuz, truly, thats what life is all about yes?

as the month emters its first half hour, my apartment is disgusting and smells of a weeks' worth of gym clothes piled, wetly, on my floor. i'm sore beyond comprehension. im still horrifically out of shape. i'm a week away from jetsetting across the country. job is gettin a wee bit crazier. boards're gettin a wee bit crazier. family is ... getting... a wee bit crazier.

i tried to buy a new pair of jeans from gap.com.... and they removed my jean style of choice from the site, despite my purchasing the ... "model" (?) 3 weeks ago. "relaxed boot fit" is no longer even an option.

imagine me ... mad at the gap!

where's the love?! what is love!?

this level of chaos and confusion is exactly what july has gotten phausen so far.

...so far.

there's this happy lil joint round the corner from my apartment that i frequent quite often. ...er... frequently.

the green rock. sweet lil barstaurant, my favorite kinda eatery. its got good music inside, in-the-sun outside seating, really good food, pretty cheap booze, and a whole collection of fuckin fine ass waitresses, who love to dress all hot n'slutty and flirt and even find the women i attend with attractive -- particularly alexis.

i show up on saturday afternoon really anxious for more of the same... but upon asking for an outdoor seat, i'm greeted by the bartender who tells me there are no waitresses in today, and the main chick called in sick.

...

and all of a sudden, the booze isn't as cheap, the food isn't as good, the outdoor tables are all in the shade... and i realize the only fucking thing i liked about the place was all the super hot bizzotches that'd walk on by and ... well... look all hot.

without them... this place is useless!

i mean, don't get me wrong, its still the same exact place with all the same exact charms, but... who the fuck wants that?!

...my whole world is ruled by boobs...

...oh wait...

yaaaay!

more court this morning. this was the big one.

i had to pull a few strings over the past few weeks, months even, to get both of my offenses taken care of on the same date. after a series of negotiations, i finally made that so. and, now, i could defend the wrongs placed upon me for both instances of "the boot."

court starts at 10. i'm there by 9:45, just to stop by the clerk downstairs and ask if this mother fucker is even gonna happen this time. i've been burned before.

i find my way to the court room. apparently, they do hour long sessions, and the 9 am "shift" is about to end, so i have to sit n'listen to everyone else complain about ...whatever. trip people on their way up. make fun of the prisoners. all the great stuff thatcha do in court.

some 35 minutes later, i'm called on up.

i got my folder. i got my de-criminatin photos. i got my fancy shirt n'dressy pants and all the other crazy preperation shit i had to do for this awful, never-happening event.

judge reads off my offenses. jots down my summons numbers. looks up at me with disgust. "how'd this happen?"

...

listen, old man...

he skips to "how do you plead?"

i spit back "not guilty"

he says "ok, come back later for your court date."

...

more court! more fucking court!

my first mistakingly received boot/ticket combo was march 31st. thats over 3 months ago, now. we're closing in on 100 days. and i still haven't been able to refute the claims yet!

the digital pictures i took of my obviously placed hoboken parking permit are from april 3rd. april! ...third! its now early july, mother fuckers!

and they have my money! ... and i want it back!

why did i have to even go to court today? if i was gonna plead guilty, i coulda just sent in the money, and not even have gone to court. hell, i coulda just phoned this whole "not guilty" thing in!

instead, i gotta get all gussied up and go through the motions and be a big tool. what a pain.

you win this time, hoboken parking authority and municipal court system...

...and... well... the last few times, as well...

but ill be back.

...eventually...

so, anyway. yeah.

part of this weekend was spent doing my absolute favorite thing .... attending a wedding!! ...during my only holiday break!!

...yay...

with preperations running during a wee bit o'friday and saturday, then culminating in the big deal for all day sunday. just enough to fill up the entire fucking weekend. huzzah.

trekked up to this mountain top local in new york called mount fuji. seriously. it had this huge doorway ...thing... as if it were a japanese theme park in orlando. on top of a mountain. in new york. ... that employees straight-off-the-boat danish girls with blonde hair and blue eyes as their waitresses.

mmhmm.

the whole day was basically a collection of my largest nightmares mixed in, merrily, with my largest annoyaances.

all of which culminates in a grouping of 50 year old women doing "the electric slide" in unison.

r0x0rz!

i mean, don't get me wrong, it wasn't awful awful. as far as weddings go, im sure it was really fucking nice. its just totally not my scene -- specifically this one, where i didn't really know anyone.

and it was robbing from me from my much-needed holiday weekend!

but thats just what weddings are, right? i mean, y'got yer electric slide and some "cuh-rAAzy" dj and mebbe at the end they'll play "shout" and a whole buncha other typical cliches. ...and its all so corny, it gives me the chills. i can't sit n'listen to all that without shaking in my seat. and, just to think, i'll have to revisit all of this for my sister laura's wedding in... man... 1 year or something?

boogie woogie woogie

had ourselves some wee lil fireworks this hizzah weekend.



monday was the fourth. ... and i actually had that day off! no work. no weddings. no wakin up early for retarded shit that i didn't want to do. none of it! it was just a day for goodness. and fireworks.

and hobsons! our old barstaurant stomping grounds... and home to a new "jeanelle" waitress ... who is also fucking hot. and, after noticing my drinking disorder... she brought me a pint of rum and coke! three of them!

the enhanced drinks and her enhanced boobs coupled with some beautiful sun and the company of one beautiful alexis made for a glorious day -- and happily, too, since most places were closed fo' the holiday.

no real plans for the evening, itself. sorta been bogged down and ahsploded for the past month or so, so i didn't get a chance to plan anything. next year, i'd like to have a whole kick ass barbq and fireworks ordeal. note to self.

this time around, though, i had the katfox and her friends and alexis and possibly cati and possibly mary over for the hudson river "dont mind the smell" independence day celebration. ...that aside, though... its really a beautiful display.

just like last year, it was a three-pronged attack, with jersey city, downtown (pictured above) and midtown (pictured below) all launching their massive fireworks displays at the same time -- completely synchronized by computer, right down to the color of each lil flare.

really aweshome.



perfect weather type o'night for it, too. just a bit over 70, most of the humidity died down, and a perfectly clear pallette in the night time sky for all them purdy lil lights n'colors...

...and the 80,000 mexican children that stood right on top of us for the display, all while screaming "dead chicken! dead chicken!" and pointing to a pile of sticks in a nearby rock wall. ... yeah.

ignoring them, tho... the fireworks were beautiful.

i'd like some of them as a nightly event, please.

one of the many joys of riding the subway at least twice a day is the occasional reward of a free newspaper.

its more or less subway etiquette.

someone buys a paper for the train, reads what they want or what they can before their stop... then leaves the paper on the seat in the train. someone else comes and picks up that paper, reads on through it, then leaves it for another person, etc, etc. its a nice lil "circle of life" for the transit system.

there are several free newspaper companies that just sit there, by the train entrances, handing out free papers just for this purpose (and, well, so their advertisers can reach the thousands of people promised, and pay lots n'lots o'money).

they design the papers accordingly for the brief commutes -- 5-6 paragraphs, lotsa pictures, light stories, thin paper. quick n'easy. nice lil articles on sports or ipods or pictures of lindsay lohan and her big boobies.

...then, today, some ass hole leaves the wall street journal.

wall street journal!

what am i, a scientist?! a marine biologist? a ... science teacher?

i wanna read about fun n'silly crap, to keep me awake on the train! not ... stocktrade!

well, clearly, i am no scientist. i am no brain surgeon. i am no ... algebra... teacher...?

for the past few days, i've been washing my hair with body wash. body wash! why? cuz i thought the mother fucker was shampoo.

i am shamed

but, what the fuck! the packaging in the same. the color is the same. the ... flavor, or whatever, is the same. the bottle is very similar. ... i mean, alright, perhaps i should have looked more closely for the word "shampoo" so that i didn't grab something that was clearly not marked "shampoo"

i'll give you that point.

but otherwise... sunhumma bitch. its like a big scam! it made bubbles -- there were bubbles. i'd even call'em suds. now what is shampoo if not bubbly suds? and body wash... what the fuck is body wash! thats soap in there! its a trick, just to get you to pay more money for soap. ...that happens to come in a fancy, shampoo-lookin bottle.

am i... am i gettin through here?

am i makin any sense?

...

damn you, body wash. ... damn you.

gettin geared up to leave for the day, my last on the east coast.

lotsa packing still to do at home. well, not so much packing, but prepping. like, making sure i have everything all laid out and perfect and making sure my bills are all paid so they don't lock me out before i get home, etc.

as far as i know, i have everything taken care of. i have all of my shirts picked out. my trusty jeans and such. socks? ... wont really need socks. i'll be going the jesus-route much of the time, and sandaling it. much easier.

we just did a quick check on the upcoming weather, to see what we were in for. looks like today was the only day there might even be a cloud out there -- y'know, with that mighty 20% precepitation.

every other day tho... good lord. 100+!

LOW of 80+!

what, with my newly gym-enhanced self that sweats at anything... this may be an embarassing nightmare of disgusting proportions. i'll have to tread very, very carefully. and, more than likely, not too near by anyone else. or in direct sight of the sun. or outside.

meh.

whatever. its my trip. im allowed to be gross. they tollerate it here, so why not when i'm away in a totally different state, on a totally different coast? i'll be paying shitloads of money for everything, too, so they should love me no matter what.

i will buy all their food. and their tourist traps. and all of their women, with which i will use to smile broadly.

not entirely sure of what i'll be doing out there the whole time. i know most days, we'll just be chilling by the pool and, truthfully, thats all i really want. that hun'urd degree sun beatin down on my paleities, whilst sipping on some sorta fruity drink with a lil umbrealla or two. ooh, or a lil plastic sword. cool.

lots of alcohol, thats for damn sure.

i'd love to hit up a few clubs for the local wimmins. and definitely a few strip clubs for the local wimmins who actually like me, ...because i pay them to.

fuck off.

im sure i'll do quite a bit of gambling, too. i didn't do all that much last time, honestly, cuz i was more interested in doin all the touristy things. but i think we did all the important ones. or many of them, anyway. this time around, i'd like to try to work myself into one of those cool big spender areas, where they get more free drinks and all the purdy ladies sit on your lap and you win hundreds of thousands of dollars just for trying!

... vegas...

so.
hello.
lovely day.

Quote:

---

Angela emailed:WHERE THE FUCK IS THE VEGAS RECAP?!

---

oh, yes, thats right. i've returned. i forgot.

...



yeah. im beat now. not much sleep in the last 48 hours cuz of the travel time and odd jet lagging, so, i gots nothin. no pictures. no recaps. no storylines. nada. ...yet.

hopefully by this weekend, we'll go through the whole thing. every drink. every degree. every dollar. every boobie.

you'll see.

before diving into the vegas recap...

one of the side stories of this most recent vacation was the emergence of my fingernails -- for years, hidden beneath the beds of my finger tips for no other reason than because they are delicious and i am weak to temptation.

but on this trip, with the power of tropical sun and sun tan lotion and pool water (all things that supposedly help yer nail growth ... i dunno, i just heard it...) and the power of trying not to find a new way to repulse the ladies with my jaggedy, nasty, wee lil nails... i didn't bite'em. ... for like 2 weeks!

and grow they did, to a size never before seen on my finger tips.

i've had the addiction to biting my nails for 25+ years, so this was an amazing accomplishment for me. ...and one that constantly drove me insane, as i looked at how juicy and tender they were, with there lil white tops n'all. ...so succulent...

but i resisted. fought off every urge. even the plane rides, which'd normally be perfect with their mixes of boredom and slight nerves. hell, i even made it through last night's "nail biting" late-inning yankee victory over the rival red sox.

but today... at work... i crumbled. the daily tedium overpowered my mental strength ...and they're gone.

the vegas recap is still being prepared. i know, i know. i might even wait until next month to start it up, i haven't decided yet.

note to self: do not drink 14 rum and cokes. on a sunday evening.

i really, quite honestly, had no idea what i was doing last night. ...or the afternoon, where all of the insanity started.

we were just goin out for lunch. mebbe a few drinks. and had a partial goal to flirt with the cute waitress at hobsons, who has always partially come on to us. ... well, lex, anyway. me being disgusting and all. whatever, i'm still part of the transaction, shut the fuck up.

anywho...

everything was workin great. the waitress was into us. ...her... the food was good stuff. the rain was holding up just a bit. there were super hot "miller light" representative chicks who had huge boobs and belly shirts and cowgirl hats ... oh how i love the girls in cowgirl hats... and then the yankee game was on and they won in this great fashion ... and then we waited for our songs to be played on the jukebox ...

and then i got the nearly $200.00 bill, marked by my 14 rum n'cokes, and noted that i got a few free, in addition to the 2 soco shots that we did with the hot waitress and all the free cowgirl grinding and such...

it wasn't until we drunkenly got home and called for food delivery from a closed restaurant that i realized we were at the bar for like 6 hours.

...whoops...

i'm suffering from vacation withdrawl.

really, what i want right now, is a vacation vacation. one week ago today, i was in a 80+ degree pool, sipping a pool-side beer, served by a larged boobied pool-side waitress under a 120 degree desert sun. not a cloud in the sky. ... and never allowed myself to sleep!

the whole trip was so damn beautiful, and there was so much to do, and so many boobies to see, that i forced myself to stay awake every second that i could. anytime that i actually had to sleep, i self-titled that a "moment of weakness."

now, however, not only do i horribly miss my time out there... i actually need a vacation! i want to go to sleep! i want to rest! i want to pass out on my couch and sleep off a day or two, as i've still not been able to even think for an hour straight without ahsploding.

and, ... no one gives a fuck! no one wants to hear that kinda whining. shit, if i were them, i wouldn't either. i'd punch that person in the throat and, perhaps, throw them through windows. glass windows. like 10! no one wants to hear about a post-vacation vacation.

... but ...

boy, howdy, could i use one.

"Hi, um, Mr. Kampyoosen? This is Bill, over from your condo association. Apparently, there is a leak from your apartment to the one below, causing a bit of damage. We need to get that checked out right away, so please call me back."

... ::sudder:: ... captials....

message date n'time is around noon, earlier today.

today.

not october, 2004 when i first heard this issue. or late february, early march of 2005 when i, again, heard this issue. no. this was new. ... or, at least, repeated. for the third fucking time.

seems like every time this situation comes up, its resolved within two weeks, then begins a 4 month slumber. after which, a mighty giant is awakened: annoyance. and this sunhumma bitch can fight. throws dirt in yer eye. kicks ya in the balls. pulls yer hair. hits you with the steel chair when the ref isn't lookin. all that jazz.

...oh, and jazz hands.

basically, the individual in the apartment beneath me seasonally complains about water damage in his apartment, claiming its from mine. the first time, i thought it was sorta funny cuz he complained in september, and i didn't move into the half-a-year-long-abandoned apartment until october. but i had it checked it all out anyway, and was cleared.

the second time, in feb/march, i had the association's inspector come check it out. and i sped up my maintenance plans for the summer and redid my shower then, as well, just to be sure the problem was resolved. again, i was cleared.

now this guy comes back, sayin there's another problem.

...its go time.

oh, they're so gonna wish they didn't do this: hudsonrestaurantweek.com

my enormous stomach and current gym-less schedule will devour this entire display. i will leap, cat-like, from restaurant to restaurant, beasting and feasting everything that comes my way. ... and arthurs is in there! the home of the 48 ounce steak!

granted, thats not a member of the 4-course, $23 meal, but... the 24 ounce steak is! ... and imma beast me up one of those! in addition to some french onion soup, which is so goddamn tasty.

but wait, there's more!

this week, tomorrow actually, marks the start of the st. anne's festival! its a 6 day celebration of sausage sammidges and funnel cake! y'got that kettle corn shit and some candy and a whole boat load of beer in this wonderful wee lil garden ... all of which i can frequent immediately after leaving one of the aweshome multi-course-meal restaurants listed above!

hell, i could visit the festival after leaving one place, and before visiting another! just use it as some sorta "home base" or something!

oh imma be portly!

gettin close to a crunch time at 4kids. and, this is gonna be a biggun.

basically, this "crunch time" is gonna be every single day, up to, and including, our september season 4 launch. and a lot of it falls squarely on this here boyo.

truthfully, its not so bad. i mean, dont get me wrong, there's a shit load to do, and its gonna take every minute of every day, including non-rewarded overtime, but... i like the work, and i appreciate the challenge. its also cool to start taking more of a managerial role in the department, as i can start working those beneath me like the minions they are. er something.

the one, big annoying part about the whole ordeal, however, is that most of the shit that i have to do -- and again there's a ton -- is dependent upon other people to complete stuff, first. ... and no one has done that yet.

in fact, some stuff, like even the most basic decisions and phrasings and artwork or whatever, hasn't yet been made, and more than likely wont be made for another few weeks. that cramps down my already small schedule even further. and that is a pain in the ass.

in the meantime, its all design work over here. get as much done as i can, now, then slap in all that other fuckery later on.

and then go to the bar.

wash, rinse, repeat.

thursday, on a very special "roboken" ...

last night, i got my jeep back. lookit'em, my cute lil animal. aww...

its been a few weeks since i've seen him.

before i left for vegas, i arranged to have animal driven to randolph for a few fixes. first and foremost, he needed a new drivers' side mirror. at some point last year, the mirror was broken off, whilst i slept. i vowed revenge, but seemingly never had the time to provide the necessary repairs.

secondly, my windsheild had recently cracked. it was one of those things, where you're drivin on the highway and this one, itty bitty, teeny weeny lil rock, flew up and "clink" smacked into the glass protecting my face. made this tiny lil star-shaped crack. ...which grew. and grew. and, over time, had turned into lightning bolts. it was also in need of the fixing.

thirdly, however... and by far most importantly... i made the switch. i got jeep breast implants. ...or... some sorta analogy there. i had the hard top taken off, in favor of a more summer-friendly, wrangler-justifying soft top.

with this, i can now peel it back and cruise around topless, not unlike the ladies i so desire. ... well, them, not their respective cars.

katfox dropped it off for me at like 1 am after seein a show in town.

animal and i embraced, tenderly. i had gone most of july without even seeing him, and now here he was, all fixed up and shiny and new. i plopped in a city of some bass-driven tunes and took off. just driving around the mile-square town for an hour or so, havin the best of times before finally giving in and parking for the evening.

i guess i'm a pretty grumpy guy in the mornings.

this morning was yet another incident of me getting into a near fight with someone. each time this happens, i document it within this hizzah blog, and preface it by saying i'm not an angry person, and i am not a fighter.

but i've written that line a few times now. even just within the past year. ... and all of that is adding up into me thinking perhaps i am an angry, fighting person.

this morning, whilst walking to the path to go to work, i approached a small intersection. its a one way street, with only one lane, so its a quick cross. also, there is a stop sign where i have to cross, so its typically pretty easy. typically.

anyway, im walkin as normal. i take my first step into the street which, again, is only one lane, one way. its wide enough for a parallel-parked car on either side, and the mid-road traffic so... 15 feet? 20? brief, whatever it is. and i'm already 1-2 feet in.

but a car wants to cross. and the driver is impatient. he rolls through the stop sign. stutter-stops a bit. then decides i'm not walking fast enough (and anyone that has seen me walk knows that isn't true) and tries to shoot across in front of me.

as he passes, and he's not going slowly, he's inches from me. ...close enough that i can reach out and punch his window.

literally.

im pissed. he goes another 20 feet, passes me, and i continue across, annoyed, but in a "forget it" mood. at that point, he stops, and gets out to approach me.

i hear the screech and the door open, turn around, and charge right back towards him. he's a big guy, and this was clearly a scare tactic of his, cuz once he saw me all pissed and walkin right back at him, he sorta slinked back to his car, but he's screamin at me the whole time.

"dont you fuckin touch my car!"

i point, boldly, at the big, red octogon, marked "STOP." then i point at me. he doesn't seem to follow.

"i was already in the intersection. you can't cross then, ill call the cops right now, they'll tell you im right. take your fucking earphones out of your ass and pay attention. they'll arrest you for touching my car, ass hole"

just to clarify, i did not, infact, have my earphones in my ass. ... but i found the comment funny, which put a bitter little smile on my face. i continued to walk towards him and said, smiling, "call the fucking cops. i'm sure they'd love to hear about you crossing the street into a pedestrian at a stop sign."

he stutters.

then shakes his head, says "pssssshhh... fucker..." and gets into his car to leave.

flawless victory.

no eating on friday. that was bad. especially since i went immediately to the bar after work. we hit green rock. ... and that started out as a mistake. a horrible, horrible mistake.

alexis and laquanda had been there since 5 or so. green rock has dollar drafts until 8, so you order them in pairs or even by fours, and the girls had already finished a few million. i didn't get outta work until late, and i had an errand to run first, so i didn't get there until 7. all hot n'sweaty from running around in the blazing heat and ready to dump a few cold ones and bask in the air conditioning.

...and that wasn't an option.

oh no no, the beers were there. i ordered them in large quantities and drank more than i should, continuing my streak of absuing booze. that wasn't the problem. the digusting lack of AC was the problem.

my sweaty frame approached the door of the bar, was briefly stopped to be carded, and then walked in ... to a wall of more heat. i escaped the brutal 90 degree fading sun and humidity outside only to fall prety to an 85 degree force of humidity and noise on the inside.

the sweat just kept comin!

and there are few every day things more unconfortable for me than sitting inside, in work-casual clothes, sweating. just sensing every single lil droplet stream across my back. ... disgusting.

or was it...

...turns out... it wasn't so bad.

it was, essentially, a beer commercial! despite the outrageous temperature, the place was packed. packed. starting the weekend with dollar drafts will do that, i guess. the fact that there were 700 people in there made it even hotter.

but we all just chilled, figuratively speaking. everyone kicked back. we were all laughin and dancin and drinkin. and the chicks were all hot n'sweaty looking. y'know, like, with boobies that were now all glowing in the light and hiked-up skirts and all that other great shtuff. freakin hot.

"don't cha!"

it was enough to keep me there for nearly two hours, which is 2 hours longer than i'd ever think i'd wanna stay there, with that kinda temperature. ... but eventually, we had to leave.

to another bar.

across the street.

oh the decisions!

this time, we sat outside of the next-door hobsons in the now-cool-feeling 78 degree evening. much better weather, but no orgy-like sensations all around. ...but thats ok, cuz happy hour was ending, and everyone was deeming the indoor weather too warm to pay full price for. smart move. hobson's was definitely the better place -- even had some of green rock's typical waitresses! ... all of which, of course, love alexis and really love the new sweaty alexis!

beer commercials're back!!

yesterday was my first day back at the gym to train. mistake.

its been quite some time since i actually trained at the gym -- at least 2 weeks, possibly even three. before my trip, anyway. whatever it is, its been awhile.

whatever the case is, it was long enough for my muscles to give the fuck up, and with the quickness. in fact, if i had to guess, i had already begun to atrophy the day after my last trip. ...and it was showing. we started off doin regular chest and biceps and an overall upper body sorta work out and... my upper body would have none of it!

the whole time, i'm squelin and falling apart... i was basically just lifting everything with my brain. it was total will power. anything that i was actually able to lift was all through pure concentration, cuz i couldn't feel a damn thing in my arms. they were just jelly and mush.

then, after awhile, even my brain started gettin weak. all my reps were cutting short and my grip was failing and ... everything was off. it was pretty lame and embarassing and... now public information.

i expected things were going to be rough, and i was actually dreading the return all day. hell, even now that i'm done, just knowing that i'm going back on thursday is torture. i'm even considering to begin a weekend regimine, which would involve my once-precious saturdays!

time will tell.

and my body will crumble.

i did, at least, get to cruise around without the jeep soft top for a bit this weekend.

the whole process was friggin sweet. it was beautiful out saturday afternoon, and i was really dying to test it out.

my family has had jeeps in the past, even jeeps with soft tops, but the whole transformation from a roofed car to a roofless car was such a pain in the ass. it could take 30 minutes, even an hour. zippers never lined up perfect enough, snaps never connected fully, bolts would drop and get lost in a heartbeat...

there were always these extra flaps that had to wrap around something, but that just never seemed possible. the canvas would be too taught or start to rip. meanwhile, the rain is pouring down overhead, and no one seems to know the right answer.

frustrating.

and the hard-topped jeeps were even more difficult, as the removal process could easily take up to an hour, with all the various bolts and connections to the tail lights and other such things you'd never even think of. why they could never make the process any easier, i'll never have any idea.

but now...

it really seems like they have!

i didn't have an instruction manual (and probably wouldn't have used one anyway), so i didn't really know how to do it. but, i figured it had to, at least, be straight forward-enough that i could figure it out after surveying animal for a few moments.

and, once i got the trick, the whole thing simply collapsed! all-n-all, it took maybe 4 minutes, and that includes all the time i wasteed approaching the soft top for the very first time.

y'just unclip a few things, unzip a few others, then fold the whole top down like an accordian. it all piles in perfectly, like they intended for it to be easy. god forbid! i mean, im sure i did a few things wrong, and went against traditional jeep regulations, but it was down. it worked. and i was still able to drive all around town, blasting music, speeding down the streets, lifting my arms up like i was in a roller coaster seat and not having anything prevent me. ...other than cops, of course.

and, much to my delight, resealing animal was really just as easy! y'just unfolded the accordian, clipped two clips, zippered two ...zips... and boom, you're done and ready for rain.

no more gettin laughed at on the highway, during a mid-traffic thunderstorm!

work party last night.

y'know, every so often, i'll make some sorta weird claim like, "i'm not gonna drink, ever again!" or other such nonsense. ...and that never seems to stick. i don't even know why i make such statements -- i can't even keep my own contract.

last night was just par for the course.

upon arrival to last evening's establishment, rialto, jon and i went immediately to the bar to start our work-party tradition of drinking as much as possible, as fast as possible. in retrospect, i'm not entirely sure why we do this, but hey, its tradition.

the other tradition, seemingly, is to get very, very drunk. more than a dozen rum'n cokes'll do that to you. hard.

it helps make the most of the evening, tho. it helps the tension go away, and it serves as an amazing ice breaker. its also convenient that everyone else is drunk, from the office hot girl to the president of the company. so mingling around is pretty damn easy. drunk rob, aka enrico stawg, is a smooth mother fucker.

or, at least, thats how my twisted and abstracted recollection of the evening plays out. i remember most of it. the key parts. important segments. but there's a lotta empty holes in my story.

like how i left the first bar and arrived at the second. or why i temporarily left my cell phone on the train. or how many additional tequilla shots i did after the first two.

y'know, lil stuff like that.


obsoive: office goddess, and soon to be bartend..ress... "baxta!" ... and some fucked up drunk idiot!

goddamn there's a lotta shit goin on lately.

work is nutty. nutty nutty. then there's the gym. some sorta diet plan i "wanna" embrace. plumbing issues in my old apartment. touchup issues in my current apartment. lots. and, according to former desk-favorite baxta, and a selection of E! true hollywood-like photos, seems like more shiznit went down at this party than previously thought.

then, we slap on s'more work nonsensery. the bad kind -- apparently, the uptown office hordes stuff. stuff that greatly impacts me.

i need art files. thats what i do. i take'em, i cut'em up, and i use'em to make websites.

for months, i've been working on this "one piece" site, trying to fill it with kick assery. and, basically, i'm killing myself to make it rock based off nothing -- one or two ghetto art files that i stole from fan sites. low res screen shots. awful, awful crap. but i finish and submit the sample.

45 days later ... after my ...colleagues delay and call and email one another 1,000 times for reasons unknown... sam and i bypass the whole process and call the man running the cartoon in the states, and solve all issues within 20 minutes. ... but not before he brings up an issue.

uptown has art files. lots. and he told them to give them to me. in may.

it is july, and i have none. and, quite honestly, that move is filled with so much assholery, i can't even believe it. i can't even tell if i'm mad -- i'm just defeated. i'm like william wallace after discovering robert the bruce was working with the english!

the fucking english!

... that shit aint right.

i am william wallace, and i will shoot bolts of lightning from my arse. check that fuckin "r" bitch! arse!

this aint over.