Warning!

This is not a post you should view very closely if you have a weak stomach. I have been describing the bottom of my foot as having it's own Halloween costume this week, and a few people said they want to see it. In a way, you kind of have to see it to believe it, so if you scroll down you'll get both the front and side views. it looks like my foot grew an eyeball. For those of you who are not inclined to look at other people's revolting injuries, here's a picture of where I've been for the last few days:



The pillow in the middle there marks the spot. The dogs have been fiercely snuggly in their efforts to make me feel better.
It's working.

The morbidly curious can continue to page down.






Eyeball?





Or Breast?

Funny Ha Ha.

I was just wandering about and I ran across a hilarious post over at Chunklet. It was sent to Henry via a friend of his and I just couldn't help reprinting it here. I don't think he'll mind.

"I started this game on a flight from Orlando to NYC a few years ago after seeing at the Hard Rock Hotel Orlando a menu item called Steven Tyler Quesadillas. I was afraid to tell Nick across from me on the flight what I was laughing so hard about cause it was so stupid but once I did it spread through the band and crew like wildfire and for days i was taking notes from everyone and even getting middle of the night texts... a new one comes in now and again still.

(Editor's Note: I've only included the first 20 or so he typed for sanity's sake)
Crooked Chicken Fingers
Frank Blackened Catfish
Sole Asylum (alternate: Sole Coughing)
Husker Stew
Kyle Mignon
Gang of Four Cheese Pizza
I Love You But I've Chosen Prawns
Nine inch Snails
Catherine Cheesewheel
Cornish Game Hendrix
Death Crab for Cutie
Superchunk Chocolate Cake
Teenage Fanclub Sandwich
Hot Not Meat (veggie menu)
Soundgarden Burger
Fleetwood Mac and Cheese
Shrimpbizkit
Stew Order
...And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Breadsticks
The Afghan Wings
Rites of Spring Rolls
Archers of Meatloaf
Pjork with the Gravery"

Okay.....Go forth and make me a menu, dammit!


This is the music lover's version of the game we played awhile back where you replace one word of a movie title with the word vagina (hat tip to Chris for bringing that to our workplace). The winner of that was Sean, for Arsenic and Old Vagina. I can't decide which of these menu items is my favorite, but I suspect the b.h. and I will be playing this game quite a bit.

I'm a Little Grumpy.

Next time a doctor says "This might sting a little", I'm busting out a belt of whiskey and a wooden spoon. This shit seriously sucks.
I wound up getting ready for house guests last night after all. They didn't make it, but the bed will now be made up when T gets here on Sunday or Monday, so that's okay. Sleeping was ridiculous and uncomfortable. I feel like an idiot because I can't do very much for myself, and the b.h. has been waiting on me all day. The only thing I've been taking is ibuprofen, and I think it might be time to switch to beer. I had to go to work for a couple hours today, and I left the house wearing one shoe and one slipper. By the time I got down there my foot was so swollen that I had to take the slipper off. I wound up sticking duct tape to the heel of my sock so I could walk on it and not destroy my sock.
Fuck.

Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow.

The Hold Steady was fantastic. The b.h. and I both got to go, all of the kids are out of town for that stupid football game, and parking was a snap. Several of our friends were there, as well as a couple hundred other people with excellent taste. Art Brut opened, and they were also quite fun. After the show we went to an after party. We stayed out until almost 5am- highly unusual for us. So I went to bed around five thirty, and had to get up at 8:15 to go to the doctor. No big deal really- or so I thought. It was just a plantar's wart, and I thought he'd give me a topical something-or-other and send me on my way. No such luck. Instead I wound up getting it frozen with liquid nitrogen. It felt like somebody set me on fire. I managed to pay (very little, bless the man, despite not having insurance) and get out to the car before I started to cry. I never, ever cry from physical pain, but this was unusually bad. When I got back to the house I took three ibuprofen and crawled back into bed and couldn't sleep. I came down to the couch to watch TV. The dogs followed me down to try and comfort me. It worked, for a little while. The rest of the day has been pretty uncomfortable, but there have been no more tears.
We went to see some friends play at the Caledonia early tonight. Low Red Land is from San Francisco and they tour a lot and we see them a few times a year. They sounded great tonight. They may be coming here to stay tonight, so when they finished playing I came home to straighten up. Now I'm on the couch watching bad TV (DVD, actually- Desperate Housewives Season Two) and waiting for the b.h. to call and tell me whether or not we're having guests. If we are, I'll get the dogs in and make up the guest bed. If not I'm cracking a beer and getting in the shower.

This is what Eleven Pounds of Olives Looks Like.

The box is about the size of two shoe boxes- or one box with a really big guy's boots. The first step is washing and cracking them:




The one in this photo got more cracked than necessary, as I was not very practiced just yet. The idea is to break them open very slightly, after which they are soaked in water, which gets changed twice a day for five days. This apparently leeches out the bitterness. We now have a two and a half gallon bucket that is full to the brim. We are choosing the water method of curing, rather than using lye. It just sounds less scary- you know, first time out and all. There's something about mixing drain cleaner and food that I have a hard time with. Next step (and next photos) in a few days.

In the meantime, here are a couple long overdue shots of the Blue Mountain show at Tasty World two weeks ago:



Something about Frank's drum kit just says "Fellow Traveler" to me:

Saw Dave Marr and Holly Golightly at Tasty World last night. Dave sounded great. I wish he would play more. Holly was cool. I had no idea what to expect, but she was recommended to me by several friends, so we gave it a shot. We didn't stay late because we were both tired.
It has been raining for a day and a half, which is great. it is supposed to rain for the rest of the week. Of course, that didn't stop the idiots at the office complex in our neighborhood from running their sprinkler system. I called the water department and they said that the complex in question is on a well, and they are allowed to do whatever they want. Hmmm. I guess I know where I'm going to steal my water from when ours dries up.
In other news, Kilgore just got back from the vet. He is happy and healthy, if a bit wider than necessary. Now that the temperature has fallen below a hundred degrees I guess we can start walking again.

Two days until The Hold Steady. Yay.

I was called in to work on Friday afternoon because the bartender was having some technical difficulties. It took just a couple of minutes to diagnose the problem, but I was glad that she had called me because as it turned out several friends were there that I hadn't seen in quite some time. G and F are regular customers. They used to be my regular customers for awhile, back when I did Friday happy hour. Now we see each other very seldom, since like most of my friends they have day jobs and therefore schedules that do not coincide with mine.

While I was speaking to them, my friend R came in. She has just gotten married the week prior, so I got to hear about her wedding, warts and all. I had an excellent time at my wedding, and overall I am happy that the b.h. and I chose to be somewhat traditional and include our families and whatnot, but next time (when we spontaneously renew our vows silly, not next husband) we're totally going to elope. That's what my other friends did, and by all accounts it was a great decision and an excellent time. Anyway, it was great to see R. She and I met when she was a regular customer of mine, and she also has a schedule that prohibits late night, weeknight socializing. We caught up and I had a nice chat with her husband and met some of their friends.

Also during this time, three guys wandered in that were on a day off from touring with a band from Columbus, Ohio. I spent a lot of time in Columbus several years back with an old boyfriend, and we spent some time talking about bands and clubs and friends that we have in common. I recommended a restaurant for them and put them on the guest list for Friday night's show.

My cell phone went off. It was my friend K calling from New York. She is up there apartment hunting. She'll be moving in less than two weeks, and she called to tell me that things are going very well and she found a place and there were exciting developments with her new job. I am so thrilled for her. Words truly cannot express. I chatted with her for a few minutes, said congratulations, wished her a safe trip home, and then turned to say goodbye to everyone at the bar. I had just enough time to get home and walk the dogs and feed them and feed myself before turning around and coming back to work. It was only when I got in my car that I realized how much K's move is going to affect me. I don't have a lot of female friends anyway, and I know that women always say that, and that they act like it doesn't matter, but it does. K is the only woman (hell she's almost the only person) I know and enjoy being around for long periods of time that is even remotely on my schedule. I'm afraid I may have to start trolling local bars for women.
Fuck.

Olives.

Last weekend the b.h. and I took a rare Saturday night off and went out to dinner- you know, like grownups. We ate at The N@tional, a new local restaurant, for the first time. When we walked in,we immediately saw He Who Must Not Be Named (and no, I don't mean Dan Horowitz)

with a table full of friends having dinner. Wilco was drifting over the stereo system. The bartender greeted us with "Hey, I finally get to wait on you guys for a change." Ah, Athens.
I love the way the restaurant is decorated- very simple, classy but not over-done. They had small potted thyme plants on the tables, which i think is brilliant. The lighting is low and the seats comfortable, and I was more relaxed than I had been in a long time. The wine was exceptional, the food was fantastic, and after the manchego cheese and celery stuffed dates with smoked paprika (but before the roasted red pepper and tomato soup), as we dug into a small bowl of olives marinated in garlic and citrus, we remembered that Alt0n Brown had a link to a website where you can order fresh olives.
We came home and ordered some. And all eleven pounds arrived in the mail a couple days ago. So today, we begin the curing process. In ten days we will begin the actual flavoring process, so if anybody has suggestions, feel free to bring them on. I know that garlic and citrus is first on the list. We're hoping they work well so we can give them as Christmas gifts. (On the other hand, if they're half as good as the ones we had at the restaurant, we may decide to keep them for ourselves. No more fresh green olives until next September, after all.)
I also made a pie this week. Graham cracker crust with sour cream filling, topped with raspberries. This weather just puts me in a cooking mood.
Hoping to get back to Ellijay in the next couple of weeks for the annual J & J apple and pumpkin purchase. Man I love the fall.

Skirts Alert

Last night I caught Modern Skirts at The Georgia Theater. They sounded fantastic. They have come such a long way since their first shows years ago, and I really think they are headed for Big Things. As it turns out, they are also headed for the U.K. Like, today. They are playing more than a show a day for the entire trip, in hopes that somebody at a record label over there might have more brains than the guys on this side of the proverbial pond. I would think they'd have to. Anyway, if you happen to be in the area, here is their schedule:

Oct 20, 2007
Manchester, Lancashire, United Kingdom
@ Catch In The City Festival 2007 @ THE DRY BAR
28 Oldham Street [MAP]
Vmanevents, Designer Magazine & Speechless With Sound presents....Modern Skirts at 6:45pm sharp (NEW TIME) at the downstairs stage at THE DRY BAR

Oct 21, 2007
Manchester, United Kingdom
@ TRIANGLE SHOPPING CENTER in EXCHANGE SQUARE
Triangle Shopping Centre is conveniently situated by the Millennium gardens in between Victoria train station, the Arndale centre and Exchange Square [MAP]
All ages free show!
Modern Skirts to perform at 2pm sharp

Oct 22, 2007
Manchester, United Kingdom
@ IN THE CITY showcase @ THE MUSIC BOX
65 Oxford Street [MAP]
Modern Skirts official International showcase at IN THE CITY music conference at 10:45pm sharp
For more info on the show or directions visit the venue website at www.themusicbox.info or www.inthecity.co.uk

Oct 23, 2007
Bacup, United Kingdom
@ Bacup Borough Football Club
Cowtoot Lane, Lancashire [MAP]
£3.00 at the door
Doors at 8pm
Visit www.myspace.com/hairydogpromotions for more info on this show

Oct 24, 2007
Stockport, United Kingdom
@ Blue Cat Cafe
17 Shaw Road [MAP]
All ages free show in Stockport, UK!
Modern Skirts to perform at 9:30pm sharp
For more info visit the venue website at myspace.com/bluecatmusic

Oct 25, 2007
Coventry, West Midlands, United Kingdom
@ City College Coventry Synergy FM show
Swanswell Centre, 50 Swanswell Street [MAP]
Free to students and public!
Taping a live performance and interview from 1-2pm for the City College’s college station SYNERGY FM 102.6
Visit www.synergyfm.com for station info

Oct 25, 2007
Coventry, United Kingdom
@ The Albany
24 Albany Road, Earlsdon [MAP]
Performing with the Sequins
For more info call the venue at 024 7667 3032

Oct 26, 2007
w/ R.E.M. Stipe
Ilminster, United Kingdom
@ Square & Compass Pub
Windmill Hill, Ashill [MAP]
£10 at the door or in advance from the venue
18 & up show
Performing with the R.E.M. tribute band STIPE

Oct 27, 2007
Kent, United Kingdom
@ The Lower Bell
201 Chatham Road, Blue Bell Hill, Aylesford [MAP]
JUST ADDED!!
Performing from 9-11pm

Oct 28, 2007
w/ Gamages Model Train Club, Gold Heart Assembly, The Cedars
London, United Kingdom
@ Jealous of the Daylight presents...at Covent Rock Garden on The Piazza
6/7 The Piazza, Covent Garden [MAP]
£7 at the door OR £5 with this flyer
Music from 2:30pm-7pm
Modern Skirts on at 5pm sharp

I heard that Mike Mills referred to them as his favorite new band in an interview over there, so I hope some people show up.

Thanks, Asshole.

Dear Neighbor:
I just wanted to tell how happy I am that your yard looks absolutely lovely. It seems that all of the sacrifices everyone else is making have really paid off.I'm glad that I have been turning off the shower while I soap up and watering my plants with used dishwater for three months so that you could run your fucking sprinkler in the middle of the night, soaking your whole front yard and half of the street, without guilt. Never mind that river running down the curb. Never mind that we're struggling to have enough water to keep everyone's toilets flushing. Sacrifice is for poor people, right? I mean, what the fuck? Anyway, thanks. I think my faith in fellow humans was just starting to return. That's not really convenient in the middle of football season. And hey- nice magnolias.
I hope your house burns down,
HB

Still Here.

I have been away far too long. I can't help it. I just haven't felt much like writing.
We got our friend out of jail a week ago. He's doing fine. The dogs are quite happy to see him, despite having been spoiled nearly rotten by the b.h. and myself for the past two months. They missed their dad.
My parents sent us pizza from home for our anniversary. Unless you are from a place where there is excellent pizza (like Chicago or New York) and you live in a place where D0min0s* is considered pizza, you probably don't understand how very exciting that is. It's amazing. I had the oven preheating before the UPS man even left the driveway.
My friend K and I went to see the adaptation of Raiders of the Lost Ark last week at Cine'. It was hilarious. It took the guys who made it something like five years to make, and since they were young teenagers when they started, they change a lot in the course of the filming. But they really did a great job. Shot by shot, line by line, using what I can only assume was somebody's parents' home video camera. It was inspiring. I recommend it. Work has been okay. There have been several good shows already this month, with more on the horizon.
Wow this is a boring post. Sorry.




*I don't even know how to spell it because that "pizza" was a sacrilege in my family.

Dire.

That's the only word to describe our water situation. According to local officials, we have around five weeks' worth of water left in our reservoir. I can't remember it ever being this bad before. There is an outright ban on watering outdoors. I gave up on my flower garden months ago when i realized that it just wasn't practical to waste water on it. Kept watering the tomatoes and peppers as long as I was allowed, though. And they seem to be hanging on despite not having been watered recently. It keeps looking like it might want to rain and not quite getting there. Very discouraging. It makes me wonder how much water we would save by canceling the rest of the home football games. I assume that not having an extra 100 thousand people in town for three more weekends might help our situation. It certainly couldn't hurt. But don't let my boss hear me say that.
Last night, we came home from the utterly fabulous Okkervil River show at the 40 Watt to find that the sprinklers were on in the office complex behind us. It had been cloudy all day, and there was rain predicted for today, and we've been on a watering ban for quite some time now. But there they were, at least two sprinklers, spraying with all their might. Made me wonder how often this happens. We're usually not home yet at 2am, and I would think that most of the folks in this neighborhood are long since sleeping by then. I called and reported them, but what I really want to do is find the people responsible and beat them. Seriously. Our local government is trying to figure out how to keep the waste water treatment plants working with such low water levels and some asshole is fucking watering the GRASS. Ugh. Stupid.

In other news, Okkervil River still kicks ass. I heard a guy remark last night that he had been made gayer by watching their set- I can only assume he meant that he was in love with the band, but I'm not sure. All I know is that a night off and an excellent rock show were exactly what I needed. Now I want to move to Austin so I can see them more often. I actually recorded a song on my camera, but since the quality sucks I will refrain from posting it here.
Instead, here's a photo:



This was taken during a break in the set where somebody had to change Will's string. I guess he can't change his own string on account of being blind as a bat and without glasses on stage. So he played a song on the keyboard instead. It was great. They played almost everything I wanted to hear. A.J. was in town for the show. It was great to see him and we actually got to talk for a bit- not over the bar, but actual face-to-face adult conversation. Amazing. I will have to try to do that more often.

My friend T is rapidly approaching total insanity due to his job, and may move down here soon. That would be great. K is leaving for New York in just a couple weeks, and I haven't quite figured out how I am going to manage without her.

Customers O' the Night(s).

There have been so many recently that I couldn't possibly keep up. Here are a few examples:

#123: The Fat Mouth Breather is becoming a bit of a regular. I would normally ignore a person's weight and possibly even the fact that they were constantly walking around with their mouth hanging open if they were not the sort of person who insisted on Talking To My Tits whenever they were at the bar. Honestly, this guy has never once made eye contact with me while I was close enough to take his order. He also likes to hold on to his money for longer than is necessary, presumably to extend the amount of contact that his hand has with mine. He is vile and creepy and I do my best to avoid waiting on him whenever possible.

#486: A few weeks ago, we were closing up and a drunk chick wandered in alone at around two-thirty (We close at two, but are not required to empty the building until quarter to three) to use the bathroom. I normally try to stop people from doing this if they were not actually customers at our bar, but I was particularly tired that night so I let her go. I continued to re-stock beer and clean up. At around three, I was summoned by the door guys to the bathroom. The girl was passed out, panties around her knees and skirt around her waist, bent over completely so that her hands and her hair were on the floor in front of her. She was fast asleep. And snoring.
I started talking to her, tapping her on the shoulder and eventually shaking her to try and wake her up.
Eventually I raided her purse, found her cell phone, and dialed the last number that had called in (which was twenty minutes before). The girl who picked up the phone was confused at first, but I managed to convey to her that I was in the bathroom with her passed out friend and i needed help getting her out ASAP.
"I can't come and get her because I am at a party right now and I have been drinking and I am under age and the cops are outside. I can't leave." Great.
I found out her name (appropriately stripper-like, it was), hung up the phone, and pulled her to a sitting position, slapping both sides of her face gently while repeating her name.
"Pull your panties up sweetie, it's time to go." She didn't want to go. She didn't want to wake up, but she did have the good sense to cover herself when I sat her up, so I knew she was at least that aware of her situation.
Luckily there was another female bartender on staff that night, because this girl was BIG- Not fat, mind you, but a head taller than me and a good bit meatier. Once we got her to cover herself, it took both of us to hoist her off the toilet and onto her feet. From there she seemed to take control for the most part, and we just steered her (on her high heeles, of course) out of the loo and up to the front door, where she turned and hugged me and kissed me on the cheek and told me that i rocked and that she loved me and that I was her hero.
It was bizarre. She seemed perfectly coherent, as if she had just woken up from a nap (which I guess she had) and was a bit groggy but in total control. We watched as she crossed the street and tried to hail a cab. Two bike cops were standing on the corner and ignored her completely. Eventually I flagged down a cab and sent it over to her.

#222: Game Day is my least favorite day. Worse than New Year's Eve, Fat Tuesday, or even St. Patrick's day, Game day is Amateur Night with 85,000 performers, most of whom have been drinking for at least eight hours by the time I encounter them. Last night I got to deal with my first amateur foursome as soon as I got in the door. They were loud, they thought they were cool and funny, and they were demanding. The Jackass Group Leader kept ordering drinks and shots for himself and his three friends even though they obviously didn't want to drink more. What happened is what often happens in these situations: his friends don't have enough balls to tell the guy that they are done. Nobody wants to be the "pussy" that gives in first, so they all keep buying rounds. Jackass Group Leader decides to chat me up, since the girl who has been serving them all day has already given up on getting them to close their tabs and has moved on to the "ignore them and hope they'll go away" stage of customer service. So the guy remarks on my shirt- which, like most of my shirts, is a band t-shirt.
"Are they any good?"
"No. They suck. I try to make a habit of advertising for bands that I hate." I was smiling when I said this. The smile was an indication that I was joking, but that he knew the answer to the question before he asked me and that I was "on" to his game- trying to engage me in conversation that wasn't going to go anywhere. I am not flattering myself. I had already seen him chatting up two other chicks who had the ability to walk away from him and did.

"Ah HA!" he replied, a bit more angrily than was necessary under the circumstances. "Smart ass bartenders don't make good tips."

Okay, so what I should have said here was something like "On the contrary, sir, I make a lot of money from people who are smart enough to understand when a person is playfully kidding and confident enough not to take themselves too seriously. In fact, most people like it when you are a bit of a smartass, since they are so used to being Bullshat in their everyday exchanges with service industry people who are required to exchange specific pleasantries and pretend that they give a shit about customers."
That is not what I said. I believe I said something about having already written the day off due to the number of drunk idiots I encounter on game day. He insisted that he was a good tipper. I didn't believe him and I didn't care.
He went on to "compliment" a door guy about his hair and fashion sense (which he described as "totally rock and roll, dude"), and then try to engage said door guy in a conversation about music. "I'm a drummer, dude, so I know." What he knew I didn't quite understand. What he obviously didn't know was when to shut the fuck up and go home. I switched into uber-polite mode, encouraging them to try out the strip club or perhaps get something to eat. It worked and they left. His friends tipped me well.


#357: Dirty Diana is a regular. Until recently, her identity has not been known to us, but her prolific use of a sharpie marker in our ladies' room has made her a subject of regular discussion. "Dirty Diana Loves Teabags!" has adorned the wall of the first stall for so long that I can't remember when it got there. And of late one of my co-workers has made it her mission to remove D.D.'s scrawlings from said wall on a regular basis, since we often have an older more mature crowd during football season- including the owner's parents.
I do not, as a rule, consider graffiti "art" or even "free expression." (I make an exception here for Banksy and others who paint murals and interesting stuff to look at- they've helped me pass the time on public transportation many a time). It is, in most cases, pure and simple vandalism, and it is a big pain in the ass to remove from the walls. When the walls are clean, they usually stay that way for quite some time. Once somebody writes anything up there, though, it's game on, and within a week or two he whole thing is a mess again.
Occasionally, somebody writes something that I find particularly clever or funny ("Sodomatic for the People" and "Lester is Coming- Look Busy!") spring to mind), but for the most part people are generally ignorant and crass. In any case, The D.D situation was reaching a boiling point for my diligent co-worker, and when I finally identified D.D. my boss approached her and politely asked that she stop writing on the walls. She seemed embarrassed, but by her reaction I could tell that it was never a malicious thing- she was making a joke with her friends who are also regulars, and (I suspect she thought), with us as well.
This was about a week ago. Last night after close, one of the door guys came to get me and asked me to come with him to the ladies' room.
"Fuck! Is somebody passed out in there again?"
"No. I need you to see this."
I was expecting to find something broken, or a leaky toilet, or a pint glass in the bottom of a bowl. What I found instead was about twenty post-it notes, scattered in the first stall, each one adorned with the same message in hot pink sharpie: "Dirty Diana Loves Teabags!" Now that, my friends, is art. Or at least it is a very funny practical joke. I think I like this Diana.

Oh yeah...

I finally loaded up the dog pictures. Here they are.


This is Hope (Hamhock). She's the fat one.She snores like a drunken sailor.



And this is Ella. She has an uncanny ability to locate your most delicate parts with her pointy little paws.

Business.

As in J. Roddy Walston and the. They fucking rocked again. I only wish they had more CDs for us to buy. Everything was running late that night, so they didn't play as long as we would have liked, but they tore through most of the songs I know and were completely pro and cool about the scheduling fuckups. They also crashed with the b.h. and me that night. It was great to be able to talk a little in a non-show setting. All of the guys are funny and smart and generally seem like folks we would hang out with if we lived in the same place.

The beagles have escaped several times. The first time I hadn't shut the door all the way when I came back in from walking them, and Wyatt charged through it while I was in another room, so by the time I even realized the door was open the girls were long gone. Hope (who we have re-named Hamhock, because it amuses us) was only several yards from the door, snuffling through the tall grass next to the house. Ella (Sniglet) on the other hand, was already too far into the thicket on the other side of the driveway for us to even see her. I might add that it was the middle of the night and both the b.h. and I had already showered and were ready for bed. We wound up spending about fifteen minutes locating her and trying to coax her out, and eventually I tackled her when she got out into the parking lot in the office complex out back.
The next time they escaped was the night the band was here. This time I was actually in the shower. I stepped out and heard a loud baying coming from out in the yard. The next thing I heard was the b.h.'s voice through the bathroom window- "Honey, I need your help. The beagles got out." His voice was nearly drowned out by the sound of the dogs in the distance. It was about four a.m., and one of the band guys had gone out for a cigarette, and the girls slipped through the door and took off. I immediately threw on a t-shirt, jeans, and shoes, and ran out into the dark yard, figuring that the b.h. would have the flashlight on him. I was blindly making my way back toward the woods, and I could hear the b.h. cursing loudly above the sound of the dogs and a lot of crunching. It seems that the woods are now overgrown with briars - big, nasty, sharp ones - and although this posed no problem for the dogs the b.h. was getting torn to bits. He also didn't have the flashlight, but was using our cell phone to light his way. I was plodding along behind him, simulating a blind and drunk game of Marco, Polo. It wasn't pretty. It wasn't funny at the time, either, though now I'm cracking up at the thought.
Hamhock got out again the day before yesterday. I was out running errands and the b.h. had the girls ties up outside. He was in the kitchen with the door open so he could keep an eye on them. We still don't know how she did it, because when he found her wading in the shallow end of the pond, her collar was completely intact, as was the leash she had magically left tied to the garden post. It was a panicky half hour, but everybody came out okay.
Our friend has been moved to a jail downstate, so we haven't been able to see him. Our local county jail has become over crowded after three consecutive home football games, so they had to move some people off, and since he isn't getting out for another couple of weeks, they chose him. This is all very inconvenient, because we have no way of contacting him, and he can't call us collect unless we start ANOTHER account with this other jail. We already have money in an account with the local jail, and it doesn't transfer, so we have to go through the process again, and we have no idea when they will send him back, so it may be completely pointless. They won't tell him when he's moving, and they didn't give him any warning before he left, so he couldn't call and let us know. I do hope he's doing okay. The worst part of this is imagining what it must be like for people who don't have any money or any transportation. What does a poor mother do when they transfer her son to another county three hundred miles away? This is a big enough obstacle for people like us, and we can afford it. I realize that most people are in jail because they have done something wrong, but I don't see why inmates' families and friends get treated like criminals themselves (guilt by association anyone?) and inconvenienced to this degree. Ah well, I guess I'll just try to stay out of jail so I don't have to worry about it.
The iPod is a Godsend. We have almost five thousand songs loaded up already. So many things I haven't heard in ages, now brought back to life in a convenient new package. This will also help us get rid of about ten boxes of CDs that we no longer have any use for. Yay! One step closer to organization.
I discovered a podcast called Grammar Girl's Quick and Dirty Tips. I adore it, though it regularly reminds me that I know almost nothing about the rules of grammar. (Not really, but it does make me feel a bit ignorant).
This week was musically fabulous. Got to see The Dumps and Baroness upstairs at Tasty World on Thursday, as well as Peelander Z and two other Japanese bands on Friday night. What fun. Still can't wait for Okkervil River at the 40 Watt on October 3rd, and The Hold Steady on the 25th. Yes, Rocktober is going to live up to its name this year, I believe. It's a beautiful thing.
On the reading front, I finished the J.D. Salinger biography, which made me go back and re-visit Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters and Seymour: An Introduction. He really is a weird guy. But I dig his stories. I have just started The Idiot's Guide to the Middle East conflict. I bought it a couple years ago and haven't gotten around to it. It was written before the U.S. invasion of Iraq, but what I really want to understand is the history of why everything is so screwed up over there, so I don't mind. I have also torn through about fifteen back issues of The New Yorker that my boss passed on to me, as well as a few copies of The Believer, Esquire, and Vanity Fair. Not a whole lot of book reading, though. Too busy. I did see a new Terry Pratchett on my way through the book store the other day. Guess I'd better go put that on my wish list before I forget.
Man, this is a long post. I'm going to read somebody else's blog and quit blathering now.

Oh Yeah...

I forgot to mention that the reason why I titled that last post the way I did is because despite having some silly shit happen, I ham not in jail, I didn't have to call an ambulance on Saturday the way that K did, after somebody overdosed and nearly died where she works, and unlike my boss, I do not own the place where everything is coming apart at the seams. He also had an incident with his toddler and the Emergency Room in the middle of our plumbing crisis, which really puts my whole "Wah- we don't have internet service at home!" to shame.
In general, things are pretty bloody good. And now that we have an Ipod (that's right- his gift is OUR gift), we are unearthing a whole slew of CDs I haven't heard in ages, and cleaning out a couple hundred that we no longer need. Yay! Organization is good!
Our friend A came over today and helped me take the old air conditioning unit (among a lot of other junk) to the dump. We also rented a steam cleaner for the carpet, and I finally got around to dusting our many (many, many- way too many) knick knacks. I have even gone as far as donating some to Goodwill. We brought a whole trunk load there today, and we have another load to bring tomorrow. I don't know where I got my pack rat tendencies, but I am slowly taming them.
Also, please note: Four dogs shed more than twice as much as two dogs. I don't care what anybody says. I know I'm not good at math, and the girls are half as big (if that) as our boys, but they are little fur factories. It's crazy.

Perspective.

Greetings from SEC Conference Hell. We have now survived two home games and I would really like it to be over. Here is a short list of things that have happened since I was last here:

1. Our phone line got cut again.
2. They fixed the phone line and then the internet went out.
3. They told us the internet connection would be fixed in two days.
4. The b.h. had a birthday, and I gave him a super-fly new Ipod. 80 gigs of lusciousness.
5. Three days went by and no internet. They told us that our modem was broken and we would have to order a new one. If we signed a contract with them, they would replace t for free. We signed. They put it in the mail.
6. Went back to see our friend again at the jail. Found out that his car is still in impound, and it costs per day for storage.
7. Went to Guy at Counter Number One (remember him? We like him.) at the jail and found out how to get information on the car.
8. Called the tow guy. Got Friend to sign paper giving me rights to car. Went (with K, thank god) to get car.
9. Paid friend's rent, went to his apartment, got fleas on us.
10. UPS can't find our house. We have to go pick modem up. We do. It doesn't work.
11. First game day. Girl who looks like (very attractive) stripper grinds against guy at the bar around midnight. He looks a little embarrassed, but doesn't complain. I advise him to get home while the getting is good. He laughs and tips me well.
12. We have yet another moth infestation. I still don't want to fog the house, because we have four dogs to think of.
13. Our air conditioner breaks. Daytime temperatures are still averaging in the mid-to-upper nineties.
14. Game day, part two. Mostly uneventful, but for the raw sewage that was coming up through the floor behind the bar. Luckily, I wasn't at work yet.
15. The b.h. spends another two hours on the phone with a computer tech in India, and finally our internet is working.
16. Somebody knocked our mailbox off. I don't know if it was on purpose or not, but it was rather a bummer. I had to go to fucking W@l-Mart tonight, because it was the only place open after it happened. Booooo.

Also of note, we have started watching the Showtime show called Dexter. A serial killer who stalks serial killers. Interesting and well executed (no pun intended). Starring the guy who played the gay brother on Six F33t Under. Love him.
Got to see A.J. for a minute. He was in town for a few days. It was nice to see him, but as always, I didn't really have much time to hang out. Saw the Dictatortots on Thursday night. That was pretty cool. J. Roddy Walston & the Business are playing this Friday night. Really looking forward to that. ANyway, i have lots of other people's blogs to catch up on now. Hopefully I will have the energy and inspiration to write about some of this stuff more in depth.
Oh yes- Happy belated Birthday, Z! Your CD is on the way this week. Promise.

Peaceful.

The girls have settled in nicely. They are very well-mannered and quite the little snugglers. The boys are still not exactly happy, but they seem to be getting used to having guests.
Last night we saw Southern Bitch and Centro-Matic at the bowling alley. It was a fabulous show. It is always difficult for me to go out on a Sunday, but I'm glad I did. Watching them play always makes me want to write.
We went over to A's house beforehand for dinner. He made Philly Cheese Steak sandwiches (mine was cheese fake- made with portabella mushrooms instead)and homemade banana pudding ice cream. It was unbelievable.
Today I slept for most of the day, or dozed on the couch under the dogs watching TV. Dexter just came out on DVD. It's about a serial killer that hunts serial killers. So far I love it.
I guess this is going to be a short and rather boring post. Sorry for that. I just haven't done much today.

P.S.

I also posted a link today to a blog called The Panopticon. Read that after the Army of Dude. You'll need it.

Doing What We Can.

Yesterday the b.h. and I went to pay rent for our friend who is still in jail. We also picked up his two dogs, who have been cared for by a guy who was nice enough to give a shit despite not being a dog person. They are both small, female beagles. When we got them here I immediately bathed them both. We moved the bed out of the guest bedroom, rolled out a big plastic tarp on the floor, and covered it with an oriental rug that I am not terribly attached to. We got them a new dog bed and a couple of rawhides. We all spent the evening watching TV, and then when we left we put the girls in the guest bedroom by themselves while we went to work. Our boys are not thrilled. It hasn't been easy so far, but we're working on it. The girls are house trained, but they are very small and so have very small bladders, and we often have to leave for six or eight hours at a stretch. So it isn't perfect, but we're trying.

I came across a blog today that I had never seen before. It's called Army of Dude, and I have linked to it over there on your left. You should read it. It is incredibly well written, especially considering the fact that the author is only twenty two. It is a heavy dose of unpleasant reality, but I am reading it because I feel like I owe him and the rest of the people in his position at least that much.

Centro-matic is playing a show at the local bowling alley tonight. We wanted to go see them last night in Macon, but it didn't work out. So we're taking the girls on a field trip to our friend A's house for dinner and a fenced yard, then we're gonna go rock out for awhile. I'm really looking forward to it.

In other news, I am reading a biography of J.D. Salinger. So far I love it. I still haven't gotten the b.h. a birthday present. I have another week or so. Hmm.