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2009-08-17 - On Our Next Episode . . .

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2009-03-03 - Super Powered Sounds #3

2009-03-02 - Super Powered Sounds #2

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2002-07-23 - 5:23 p.m.

Wellity, wellity, wellity. Here I am. I am here! Back in Mauve. Ewww. I hate mauve. Mr. Jaques always wore mauve pants. It's true. Harumph. So - many moons have passed. And many things have happened since my last "standard" entry. Also of note: The "Older Entries" page is all wonky right now and it's not updating. It's in the process of being fixed. So sit tight. Also, we're in the middle of a severe thunderstorm, it's happy hour, and I'm blasting The Doors, Band Favorites, Box Set Disc 4, much to the consternation to the upstairs neighbors. So buyer beware. For god sakes buyer. . .beware.

First. Let's rid ourselves of the chaff that's been building up in my online absence, shall we?

#1. - A transcript of Les Foote's review of the Melissa Etheridge concert:

Z: "Good evening, Wallakers, this is Zach."

L: "Blah, blah, boat, blah, motorcycle, blah, blah, Zima."

Z: "How was the Melissa Etheridge concert?"

L: " . . .It was . . . *pretty* good."

Z: "'pretty good'? That's it? You've been talking about this god damned concert for months."

L: "I know, I know, it was just that, well, the audience . . . I mean, most of the people there, well, they . . ."

Z: "Yes?" (purposely not letting him off the hook)

L: "Well, I'd say that 80% percent, if not more, of the audience was, well . . .you know."

Z: "No, I don't know. What do you mean?"

L: "Sigh . . . I'd say that 80% of the audience. . .'played for the other team'. Get it? Get it?"

Z: "Yes, I get it."

L: "'For the *other* team'. Get it?"

Z: "I SAID I got it."

L: "Yeah."

Z: "So that's why you didn't like it?"

L: "Well, no . . . but a friend of mine showed me the Heart set list and I knew like every song on the list. I should have gone to see them instead."

Z: "I guess."

So two Saturday's ago, on Timothy P. Curtis's birthday (and the date of the aforementioned Etheridge concert), I found myself, as usual for a Saturday, at the not so tender mercies of a Wallakers. As usual, the morning was filled with the super happy fun time that is known as no sales, but then the it became even more super, happy, and fun when Carey showed up at 1:30. We were dead. Really dead. Like a noontime matinee of The Flipper Movie (starring Elijah Wood and Paul Hogan) when I worked at The Colonial kind of dead. So, so not to disturb Allison from her intense reading marathon (not to be confused with ma-rath-anor), Carey and I did our best impression of Kate and I (I played Kate, Carey played me). And by that I mean to say that we sought out a random piece of merchandise and see how much fun/property damage we can get out of it. The Super Magic Tunnel became our target. (And if that product wasn't named by the Japanese, then I'll stick my hand in a glass box of bees and spiders. Ewwww, no I won't. I don't want to be part of the Fraternal Order of Road Fools) It's this crappy little nylon tube that expands so kids can crawl in and out of it. Doesn't that sound Super and Magic? Right. So we decided to open it. Mostly because its length was advertised in metric measurement on the side of the box and Carey and I were mostly curious how long it was. So we opened it and expanded it. And it was pretty crappy. And we were kinda pissed that we did all that for that nothing (and by "all that" I mean, "cut the tape open and untied the three knots"). It was nowhere near as fun as Honey Bee Tree, but leagues above Poppa's Pizza Party. So, annoyed at our own bastard inquisitveness, and trying not to further disturb Allison's reading, Carey and I took the next logical step. We decided I should wear it. So I did. I put it on and stumbled around the store scaring kids. I looked like some late 80's Nintendo villian that you needed to stomp on in order to kill - the Wrecking Crew wrenches come to mind. But in reality, I looked more like those jumping vacuum cylinders from Marble Madness that kept trying to run your marble off the track.

[Those green guys are me . . . kinda.]

So I paraded around in the scary Super Magic Tunnel tube for a while, but then I got hot. So Carey tried to get it off of me, but it was stuck because we tied the ties around my shoulders too tight. But I finally got out. It wasn't even a 1/5 as fun as it sounds. This next picture is a better representation of me in the tube than the Marble Madness recreation because . . . well, it really *is* a picture of me in the tube.

#3 - That is me. Those are me feet, and that is the tube, and those are my elbows, not boobies. Ha ha. Boobies. And #2 - That is the Giant Amputee Unicorn we sell (which is being riden by a particularly demonic Raggedy Andy). Well, I wouldn't say "sell", since we never do, I'll say carry. #1 comes in later. [And yes Kate, those stupid fucking magnetic fuzzy mushrooms are STILL sticking on the Schleich rack by the register]

So that was that, and then I came home from work that night and was super magic tired. And Ben was all "We need to go to Boston." And I was all like "I'm tired." And Ben was all like "But it's Tim's birthday." And I was like "Yeah, I know." And he was all like "So we have to go, you've got 20 minutes to get ready." And I was all like "Ok." So we got ready and left.

So here's Boston for you in 14 easy steps:

#1. Watching TV in Brighton with John, Marco, Abby, Liz, Laura, Tim, (freshly shorn) Coty and Ben. #2. Playing Beirut. #3. Eating Nance Curtis cookies. #4. Everyone freaking that Ben and I aren't in dress pants and loafers - despite the heat. #5. Drinking the Silver Bullet. #6. Me wearing Tim's pants & shoes, Ben wearing Coty's. #7. Taking three different cabs to Quincy Market {Ben, Liz, Abby, Laura}, {Tim, Marco, John}, {Coty and Me}. #8. Not getting into the trashy Asian bar because of my New Hampshire ID and lack of mystery "Liquor ID" #9. "No matter how hungry you ever become, never, ever, ever get a teryaki strip from the guy walking around with the 'bucket o' teryaki' that's screaming 'teryaki!'." - Coty. #10. "One Ton"'s free Jameson shots while Coty wins free t-shirt after free t-shirt due to his "better than Spider-Man dancing skillz". #11. No recollection of the cab ride home. #12. Skunk attack. #13. Walking/Stumbling into a giant piece of shrubbery, only to be told by Ben and Liz later that I struggled out of it only to "shoot" the shubbery "a look" after, and raising my hands at it in a way that suggested that I was accusing the bush of "starting shit". #14. Big hangover - time to go home.

So yeah. And what's better for a hangover than sitting in the hot sun, on the deck at Poco's? Not much. Ben and I spent the afternoon having lunch with my mom and Don at Poco's. Poco's may have good food, but of all the time's I have been there I don't know if I have EVER had good service. Our waitress seemed to be on lease from the Bitchy Blond School of the Terminally Stupid. But my coconut chicken was good. Mmmmm, coconut chicken. Afterwards, we went over to my mother's cousin's house (Jan and Mike) in Kittery so we could see their new ocean front cottage. That makes them my second cousins. I think. And Jan's daughter Sarah is my third cousin. No wait . . . oh, I'm not even going to try to figure it out. But those that participated in those halcyon days of Christensen 4A (or somewhat near there), yes - it's THAT cousin. So Ben and I were pretty tired Sunday night and it was so long ago now, that we could have fought off Vikings and I wouldn't remember.

"Do you want to hear an impression of a walrus . . . hrrrrooooonkkkk . . . The walrus is you."

All I can remember about Monday is that Becca and I got to celebrate Canolis coming to town (thanks to Andrea picking them up in New York City) and talking extensively about Real World and Road Rules. And relishing the fact that Hannah would have turned her nose up at the whole affair.

Tuesday Rick came down. Late. But we went out to lunch anyway. And we also went to the post office and I finally received my Scotland, PA poster. And I wanted to openly weep all over the ugly faces of all of the stupid Dover Post Office Employees. It took just shy of one month for the poster to get from Calgary, Alberta to Dover, New Hampshire. In the process, one end of the poster tube got ripped entirely off, the extra money was missing (I know, I FUCKING KNOW, dumb to put money in the mail, esp. international) and the middle was crushed. Oh super fucking great. Needless to say, my name might as well have been "Alto-Sham" because I was fucking steamed. Rick wanted to go to Hampton Beach, which I couldn't have wanted to do less and told him so. So he sulked. So instead, we tried to go to Boldface Books (which I've been meaning to do for like the past 3 years) and of course it was closed, as it was in the process of moving to a new location. And then he had the bright idea of going to the mall. Ugh. Double ugh. So I compromised and we went to Barnes & Noble instead. Fun Fun Fun. Excpet it wasn't so much. I felt bad. We always make big plans, but this time they couldn't possibly have fallen any flatter. Unless of course we went to Applebee's. Which we did. Triple Ugh. Besides, after the poster mauling, it was almost impossible to save my day at that point.

Time for a break for fun! Yeah! Fun!

Here are some things that people from around the world have typed into Google, and because of my random blatherings that included their sought after key words (noted within the "~"'s), it turned up my journal. Very strange. But all true:

~Lou Pinellas~ that's right, PLURAL Pinellas! Found in [Short Hair, Kalamata Olives, & Adventure By Gaslight]

~Real World Chicago Tonya Pics~ which is really weird, as I have never HAD pics of that skank ass ho in my journal. Found in [Pizza, Hells Angels, & Old Skool Nickelodeon]

~Bacdafuckup~ Due to our run-in with Cirillo, also found in [Pizza, Hells Angels, & Old Skool Nickelodeon]

~"Swedish Fish" AND "Weight Watchers"~ This one wasn't too hard to figure out why it picked up my site. Found in [Spider-Man/Swedish Fish/Sticky Fingered Sea Cows!]

~"Drunk Girls" Pee~ Um - yeah. So, the thing is, I'm guessing whoever typed this in to Google, DEFINITELY wasn't looking for my lowly journal. My site was about the only one listed for the search that didn't require a credit card. Found in [Short Hair, Kalamata Olives, & Adventure By Gaslight]

~Sharon Pettel~ Now this one is hands down my favorite. Someone typed in Sharon Pettel into Google and came up with my entry about cartoons. The best part is the person who did it was out of Manchester, so chances are, they were looking for that very Sharon Petell. Of course, it now dawns on me that due to now typing her name THREE more times, my site will only produce that much higher of a yield for Shar . . .well, "you-know-who" searches. Found in [Animated Ovaries].

Ok - Fun's over. Hope you had fun. If not. Oh well. As it is, I excised the entire story about my bus ride to the mall with Billie (from next door) in which she talked to me for the ENTIRE ride and told me all of the details about when she once managed a rock band. Ick.

And then there was more work, and lots of cleaning. On the Friday before the party work was so busy. So so so busy. So may crying children and so many bitch ass fuck customers. And I swear there was 8 of us on duty too. But the best part came when I was helping this one woman with the Alex Easel. I was by Arts & Crafts and trying to sell her on the merits of the easel when I heard the biggest crash ever. A stupid little bitch had, minutes before, decided she didn't want to play with the BLUE STROLLER, and that she wanted to the pink stroller. So Michael told her he'd get it for her. But the pink stroller is on top of the Bryer Horse/Doll Section. Like 9 feet up. And it was only up there because I hate it, and I hate kids playing with it, and I put it up there to keep it from them since I'm the only one that can reach up there. Well, Michael got the stool out, climbed up, and grabbed the stroller. But he must have been light on his feet (*so resisting joke*) because the stroller knocked into this doll making kit, which fell on Michael, which sent him careening off the stool, whilst the stroller in question hooked its handles on the red tail of the kite. And crash-boom-bang, you know the rest - the giant 30 foot kite comes down so forcefully, that the ORANGE TAIL (see Item #1 in the picture way way way way above) on the other side of the store comes down on Hannah, Jim, and Andrea. And yet? Who has to fix it all? That's right. Me. And then I went home to do even more cleaning (after a rainy, deck building, pizza-eating, Lucy & Nickle infested, Ninja riding interlude). Oh my god was there cleaning. I must have cleaned my room for 873 hours last week. It was worth it. I even exhumed the killer moth (whom I posthumously named Charaxis) and gave him a proper burial. And by proper burial I mean I threw him out the window so he'd get ground up in the oncoming lawnmower. You can see the floor now - almost all of it! And I redid the walls - my collage is back up, the stick-figure montage that I made in the 4A Lounge Freshman Year is on the wall. It looks nice. I am proud of me. Even though it is slightly ruined by Walden-y statements like "Now let's see if you can keep it that way!" and "Doesn't it feel good to have a nice, clean room." Statements like that make me just want to shit on my floor just out of spite. But the party went well.

Yes, the party went well. Rich and Hannah had the honorable distinction of getting here first. And now I could go on and list who came when and when they left and what they brought and what they did while they were here, but - #1.) I already get complaints about how my entries are "too long" and "C-" level quality #2.) I don't want to expose anyone for bringing a half-eaten chocolate cake #3) - I don't want to expose anyone for disappearing for 3 hours. So, we'll leave it at there was a ton of people there, two married couples (Chad & Mack, Aaron & Michelle), dogs and fish, a huge wiffleball game, lots of things served up "ka-bob" style, homemade hummus, Jeff's new silver SUV, Beirut (which I will of course make note of Line Drive Larry and Line Drive Lucy, with the help of the spiritual powers of Zostoperos Japonica, ruling the table for 5 rounds, amid cries of Coty yelling "I'm telling you people - Zach is NOT THAT GOOD."), and Chris and Chad's, like, triple-tie which felt like it went on for about 3 years. We put up a quote board, which I think was a pretty good idea. At the very least, it helped to immortalize Roy's thought that I was wearing Bermuda Jams, Ben instructing me to "grab it lower", and Rich being lauded for his reach-around abilities. We also experienced no trouble from the neighbors - which was super sweet. We were up pretty late, and even though I experienced 2 1/2 quick pass outs, I finally hit the proverbial hay around 3:45/4. Quite a few people stayed over. Quite a few people didn't too. That's cool. We can only hold so many people, right?

The next day, after people slowly cleared out, Ben, Liz, Hannah S., and I made our way to J.R.'s in Dover. Yet another "breakfast find" of B. Walden's. It was ok, but we had to wait for our food for like 3 hours. They must be on some sort of exchange program with Poco's. And while their Omelets didn't make me vomit, they didn't exactly live up to the claim on the door: "Best Omelets in Town". Plus, Hannah's mere presence managed to frighten off several former Sachems and it made breakfast really quite comical.

And now it's really fucking hot. And we had a really bad storm today. Like "EEEENNNNNGGGG, EEEENNNNGGGG, EEEENNNNNGGGG" alerts on TV kind of bad. Here's a funny lil' anecdote. So it's black as hell out at like 3 o'clock because the storm/The Nothing is on its way to ravage Dover/Fantasia, and I get in the shower. Why is it you're always taught not to take a shower during a storm, yet it's always when a storm is starting that you most need to take a shower, or hang up your weathervane? Anyway, so I get in the shower. When I got out, the storm was in full frog-slinging swing. I happened to look into the back yard as I was getting dressed and noticed a peculiar sight. It was actually what I *wasn't* seeing that was peculiar. The grill was gone. Gone gone gone. So I, half-naked, take a peek closer into the back yard. The grill has been knocked over by the intense wind/sideways rain and is being blown/dragged across the field and into the parking lot. Sigh. I quickly think of my options. "Do nothing." / "Make pretend I never saw it and have Ben 'discover' it himself - so in essence - do nothing." / "Put clothes on and go get the grill." So I mutteringly chose the latter option and the next thing I know I am out in this pounding hail, trying to wrestle this god damn huge grill and gas tank back to an upright position. The big metal grill and tank. In the empty field. 6 1/2 foot me. Big metal tank. In a field. During an intense thunder and lightening storm. Quadruple Ugh. So I finally get it upright, after slipping and falling in the muck twice in the process. Then I see/hear the guys in the next building over watching me and LAUGHING as I vainly try to drag the rusty behemoth AGAINST the wind and the hail and try to get it positioned under the 2nd floor deck. Which I finally do. So now, after my nice shower, I am hot and sweaty, and soaking wet. I'm not even gonna give the "Ugh's" the satisfaction of Quintupleting them.

So these were the possible contestants that were all vying for entry title over these past few days: "Regroup At Red Lobster", "Dino-mighties Band-Aids Are Not Good Band-Aids", "The Shubbery Was Startin' Shit!", "Half-Eaten Cake", "The Best Omelets In Town", "Hannah Smith Can Clear A Restaurant Like No Other", "Why I Love Nightcrawler . . .", "I Can't Believe We Got A Second Keg", "Shrimp-ka-bob!", "I Ate My Weight In Macaroni Salad", "Super-Long And Below C- Level", and the runner-up "After 24 Years, I Finally Got In To Tim Curtis's Pants!" and the winner? Well, obviously, it went to "Spider-Cow"!


Man, first a prancing, dancing Spidey (thanks to Coty), and now a milk-producing Spidey (thanks to our man on the street, Monique)! It boogles the mind. Sadly, I know that despite all this information, spider related or no, all Liz and Hannah will take from this entry is "Spider-Man is Asexual". Sigh.

It's been real,

Lionel Hutz

ps - It was Roy who brought the cake.

pps - It was Brooke who disappeared.

ppps - Hey, Lil' Miss New Jersey, look at that list of titles I was going to use and look how many are food related. So, so, so sad. And I can't even blame you this time. . .

pppps - I've now been doing this journal for over 100 days (102.8 to be precise. No, I'm not THAT psycho - the journal stats tell me the days automatically) But still, we've come a long way from the Holocaust Tunnel . . .

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2002 - 2009 ZQF8

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