mmmm computers

mmmm monday morning, back in front of the computers where my frail body belongs….i helped brandon move this weekend and got a real wakeup call at how much exercise needs to be a regular part of my life again….

the futon was heavy…the bookcases were pretty heavy…the speaker was heavy too…the fish tank was the best part tho. We carried his huge fishtank, with a huge catfish named Killer in the bottom with about a foot of water left. I just stared wondering what it must be like to have your universe just being sucked through a tube. Brandon asks me what i think it would be like if i was driving home and a huge tube came down from the sky and started sucking up the universe.

brandon always likes to give me these doggy bags of fucked up shit to think of on the drive home.

We get the tank over to the new apartment, we both heave a sigh of relief, since neither the futon or the bookcase was actually alive. Or maybe the sigh of relief was just cuz it was really heavy…..

thats a lot of money

i got a email from jeffrey zeldman today about how much he would charge at a design conference im thinking about throwing together. He wants a lot more then i have.

It’s a pretty big sum of money and i keep wondering, what am i gonna get out of it. Will you dance, do you know any songs? If i left you crash on my couch will the cost of getting you to speak be any lower? Hmmm, im afraid to reply heh

uh oh

uh oh…woke up with ian saying “my flight gets in 8 hours, don’t get high and forget”. I ask him if i can get high and remember. He doesn’t think it’s funny.

What is funny is that i have 8 hours to clean the entire apartment. It looks like my downtown office exploded in the living room with all the cables, lamps, computer equipment and other crap that was “work related”.

Going to be a long day.

little faggot toad

all work and no play makes toad a dull boy
all work and no play makes toad a dull boy
all work and no play makes toad a dull boy
all work and no play makes toad a dull boy
all work and no play makes toad a dull boy
all work and no play makes toad a dull boy
all work and no play makes toad a dull boy
all work and no play makes toad a dull boy

dating tip #52352362

man i need to write a fucking book on how to not date girls. I met this girl 2 times randomly at different bars and finally got her number. I call her last night and tell her me and a few friends. I hate calling girls, used to the comfortable interface of aim, but she actually remembers who i am and accepts my invitation to go out.

I drive Ian to work and he asks me where i’m taking her. I giggle and he drops it. He asks again, where i’m taking her, i giggle out of control again. He goes “well, i guess i’ll read about it on the site”.

On the way to pick her up, my dad calls and asks what i’m doing. I say im on my way to pick up a girl for karoake. He warns against the scenario and i laugh and say it’ll be okay.

It must suck knowing you’ll never be a grandfather.

Since it’s a Wednesday, i take her on my normal Wednesday warpath. I drive out to pick her up in Germantown, stopping to pound a 32oz of Natural Light, and then find her apartment. I get there early, chewing gum to kill that terrible smell of shit beer and we drive back to midtown.

Cut to Neils, the mother of all fucked up bars. I help Scarlett to the table since she’s on crutches after falling down a elevator shaft. She’s really sick of telling the story. I would be too.

I grab the karoake book, sing Lucky Star and sit back down. It was a great performance, Madonna would be proud. A bunch of Crown and Cokes later, i’m back on stage screaming Sister Christian. It was great, i love that song.

We go to Alex’s for more beer and food, Scarlett rides with Angie, i’m pretty sure they talk about me, we drink more and i drive her home.

Lessons learned? Karoake is not a good dating technique but beer is?

My Miami Trip

It takes him a bit to convince me he's not kidding and i say screw it, i need a vacation and i don't need friends to have a good time. Just alcohol. I've done this before, getting on a plane and going to a random city, not knowing a single soul there, with just my skates, flask and the desire for adventure.

Most of my friends don't think they'll ever see me again.

My flight leaves the morning after st patricks day so needless to say, i'm feeling this weird mixture of hungover, drunk and high. I get on the plane, fly to St Louis where i get my connecting flight to Miami. When i get on the next plane, i look down at my boarding pass. I got the B seat, the one in the middle and stumble to the back of the plane. I sit down in between a attractive middle aged blonde and a normal business looking guy.

Now i have the bad habit of looking over people's shoulders to see what book they are reading. I look at what the blonde is reading and at the top of the left page. It says in all capital letters ALCOHOLICS ANONYMOUS. I realize that intstant this is going to be a intresting flight.

She instantly smells the beer on my breath from the beer i had while waiting for the flight in st louis. She asks if i've been drinking, i smile and nod. We start talking about drinking, she introduces herself as Paige, we talk more, start telling the abridged versions of our life stories and end up having a really hilarious conversation. Before we depart the plane, she gives me a copy of alcoholics anonymous with her cellphone # inside the front cover “in case i get in trouble while in miami”.

Now due to the nature of this trip and the nature of my drinking, i'm only going to convey the funny things that happen and not mention the waking up in the hotel room at 4am and pounding a beer to stop the shaking.

I stayed at a motel 6 for most of the trip, which had a pool and really good rates. I was the minority at this motel, most of the people there of mexican or hatian descent so i feel a bit awkward. One night we were all swimming in the pool and after 3 cans of natural ice i was doing half backflips off the side of the pool at the cheers of all my mexican breathen.

One day i check out of my hotel room and with all my luggage and decide to roam around for a while. I get to the Tri-Rail, a little train which connects all of the towns around ft lauderdale and miami together. The train doesn't leave for hours so i pull out my beer and cigar and start working on my buzz. I end up talking to this huge lady and she asks if i'm going to the Christian Rally. I tell her no, that i don't really have any plans tho and she invites me along with her children and friends. I figure going to a christian concert with a bottle of wine and a bottle of whiskey sounds like a decent opportunity to find a free place to sleep.

I get on the train with my new found friends and about halfway there the conductor tells us that we have to pull over for about 30 minutes. I reach into the backpack, pop the bottle of wine and pass out cups to my new friends.

When toad is around, everyone gets a buzz.

We get there and my friend Max calls and says he's in Miami and that i need to come down. I decide hanging out with Max would be more fun then the christian concert, even tho in retrospect i should have gone. I end up giving up on finding max's hotel and sleeping in the miami amtrak station.

My last day there i decided i was just going to chill on the beach and relax. I took the tri-rail to Lake Worth where i was told i could take a bus to the beach. I end up sitting there forever waiting for a bus when this guy sits down next to me with a beach chair and a stereo. He sits down and opens up his book, which to my surprise, was also a Alcoholic Anonymous book. We start talking, both get fed up waiting for the bus and end up sharing a taxi. We pick out a spot on the beach, i open up my bag and pull out my Heineken, pound that then open up my huge bottle of wine. We sat and lusted over the tight little bodies of the college girls waking by, the sun starts to go down and we take the bus back to the tri-rail.

Since it was my last night i said fuck it and decided to sleep at airport. I fall asleep after consuming more of my huge bottle of wine with pink floyd playing on my headphones. I wake up, wondering why the music stopped and realize that someone has unplugged my power supply to my mp3 player. It's like 4am and the airport is empty so im pretty sure no one stole it so i walk over to the TSA agents guarding the x-ray machine. I walk a little to close to them, about 30 feet and they freak out and demand i step back.

I take a step back and ask if they saw anyone take my charger. They bring me my charger to me, i'm really confused(and still drunk) and ask why they took it from me in the first place. They said they put it in the lost in found. I started to ask how it could be considered “lost” if it was fucking connected to someone i had wrapped around my head.

I start to kinda freak out since now there are 4 TSA agents all staring at me as i pull my blanket back over me and my luggage and try to go back to sleep with big brother staring at me.

I wake up around 8am when the airport starts getting busy, drunkingly check my luggage and get in line for security. I remember the last of my wine in my backpack and pull it out and start to chug it. The people in line with me all turn and stare and a kid asks his mom what that man is drinking. I finish the bottle, set it down in the middle of the line and begin my security insepection.

The first girl that asks for my boarding pass, i hand it to her and comment that she is the hottest TSA agnt i'd ever seen. She blushes, then smells the merlot on my breath and tells me to procede.

My flight back is uneventful except for the hour and a half layover in St Louis. I go to the airport bar with 4 dollars clutched in my hand and ask the bartender how drunk i can get for 4 bucks. She gives me a shot of vodka, i accept it and start to look for a place for me to charge my mp3 player again. I find a power outlet near this little children's playground area and end up sitting on this little blue plastic rocking horse.

Close your eyes and picture some drunk, unshaven homeless looking guy, rocking back and forth on a lil' tyke's rocking horse, at times screaming along to the NIN that he's blaring on his headphones.

I get on my connecting flight and finally arrive home. Yay, i made it!