join my Notify List and get email when I update my site:
Powered by

Get your own
 diary at! contact me older entries newest entry

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

2009-06-12 - RetroReflectionReaction

2009-04-13 - The Me Decade

2009-03-03 - Super Powered Sounds #3

2009-03-02 - Super Powered Sounds #2

Click Here For Tasty Popsicles . . . or, you know, a Random Entry






Now, When I Worked At The 99 . . .

2003-04-23 - 11:19 p.m.

Mood: Pensive, Apprehensive, Meditative and other words that end in -ive

Listening To: Echo & The Bunnymen, U2, 311, Liam Lynch, 10 cc

Quote: "Oh . . . I knew. I knew where the cups were." - Fred

Hey! Wow. I'll be. Well, I'll just be. Despite evil monkey Justin suggesting that I would never write another entry again, here I am, in the flesh. Well, the cyberflesh. Ewww. That sounds like some type of sex toy the Sheriff would employ while lathering himself in Pearl Cream (it's the secret of the Orient you know). Now look at that. It took us all that time to recover from that whole Helen Hunt's afterbirth business and I go and make my first paragraph back about as blue as blue is. [The saddest part about the "afterbirth episode", as the kids on the internet call it these days, is how many people, instead of being freakishly grossed out, merely were curious if it was Helen Hunt's afterbirth from when she was a baby, or if it was afterbirth produced from when she had a baby. People, does it really matter?]

Ok. So let's start. No. Don't let's start. Ha! Sigh. I'm sure that at some point I've already used that joke in the last year on this here online journal. I need to come up with some new material. Oh, I don't care, because I got the best news ever yesterday. Seriously. My ship has come in. Finally! When I told my mother that my ship had come in, she got all excited. "Did some long lost Foote relative show up with lots of inheritence for you?!" That Mom o' mine. I will share the best news ever, and what my "ship" that has "come in" is all about at the end of the entry . . .

So I guess I should pick up with what happened after the last entry . . . Remember - McLaughlin, and all his tankery shenanigans? I'm sure you recall, as it's the entry that's been on the front page of this site for the last two weeks. So yeah. Later that day, and while I was at work, Coty came to visit. Let's go back there shall we . . . did your screen go all squiggly? No? Well, that's good I guess, since that means Dream Sequence, not Flashback. I don't know what effect means flashback. Blur? Ok. Blur it is. Ready - GO!


So Coty comes to Rollinsford while I'm at work two Thursdays ago. Long and short of it - Ben has him, Rich, and Jeff over for beer and chips and some weird Walden spinach, olive, sprouts dip. They go to Portsmouth to drink at Jeff's and wait for me to get out of work. I go there after work. They have been drinking for sometime. Ben and Coty play the longest game of darts recorded by man. Rich and Jeff and I probably talk a great deal about Laconia if only to make Coty bristle and snarl something witty like, "Stupid Laconia, it's so stupid and I hate it because it's stupid." Somewhere, Fred Robie looks up into the sky and whispers, "Sing it Brother!" We go to Poco's and Coty regales me with tales of "The Godmother", which is apparently what all the cool kids in San Diego drink. And there's a lot of cool kids in San Diego, so that's a lot of drinking. Coty orders one of these little mamma jammas and it turns out to be simply a Black Russian. Vodka and Kahlua. But then he remembers he ordered it wrong. It was supposed to be Vodka and Amaretto. I'd like to make fun of Coty and his gay sounding drink. But I can't. Because it was really damn good. Did I mention I was designated driver? Did I? And that I couldn't drink much because of it? I didn't? Well, friends, here's the deal, unless I mention otherwise, one should assume that I am automatically (and justifiably so) designated driver. Get it? Got it? Good. And then we left Poco's and went to State Street Saloon. And in the process ran into Jeff's old roommate Zebulon. Remember Zeb? No? He came up ever so briefly waaaay back during the Gaslight Debacle. All up to speed now? Well, it doesn't really matter anyway, since Zeb played even less of a role here than he did then. He was drunk. And we ran into him outside Tequila Jacks. That's about it. So while we were at State Street and I slowly switched over to drinking soda, Coty told me the grand ol' tale of what happened to him on St. Patrick's Day and how he "lost" his wallet, tumbled down a ravine, and was almost taken advantage of by a pack of shoe stealing hobos. A grand adventure indeed! And then Rich drove home to Laconia from Jeff's (because Rich is a freak and this is what he does - and as far as I know he was sober enough - at least that's what the other three told me). I drove Coty and Ben back to Rollinsford whilst Ben droned on and on and on to Coty and I about a story so old that it made me yearn to hear Ben's thoughts on the "Becky story". Sigh. Then Coty and I stayed up far too late yammering about Simpsons episodes and which season was the best. Ah, we're such boys.

This is the part where I'd show pictures of the night we went to Portsmouth. But Ben ruined a good lot of them by doing that freaky half shut eyelid trick he does which ruins pictures due to his freaky mutant looking eye. Stupid Ben. Unless there's a real outpouring to see Ben's freak eye and Coty sporting a San Diego State sweatshirt . . .

That Friday, Coty and I went to Chinese Food Buffet and Coty was purring he was so happy. Why? Because according to the Book of Coty, any buffet is increased in its goodness tenfold if it has . . . rolls. Rolls. Rolls that fill you up and leave less room for the food. He doesn't care. He just loves him some rolls. Then we went to Best Buy and bought Chamber of Secrets and Coty got me to buy Donnie Darko. Donnie Darko. Oh Donnie Darko. Donnie Darko. Donnie Darko. What are we gonna do with you Donnie Darko? This movie eats your brain, chews it up, spits it out, puts it in a blender, mixes it up with some bumblebees, tacks, and pipe cleaners, and then hits "frappe". Yeah. I think that explains Donnie Darko pretty well. I suggest everyone watch it. The above was actually a compliment. It's definitely worth watching. Even though you'll have to watch it several times in order to understand it. Unless you're Monique "I pee the bed just thinking about Willy Wonka" Peaslee. Then I don't suggest you watch it. EVER. So yeah -- Donnie Darko. It made Ben and my eyes bleed. And we loved every minute of it.

So Coty went home to Nashua Friday afternoon and then left for Boston. Ben and I would meet him there the next day. Friday night was Donnie Darko night. This is where I was going to go off on this looooong story about the serendipity about the rained out Red Sox game Friday that led to our new found Red Sox tickets for Saturday being the home opener, and that we'd get to see Pedro pitching, and 903 people that we knew would be there, and that UNH would be playing for the College Hockey Championship at the same time. But . . . NONE of that ended well. So I won't dwell upon it. But - I will share some pictures instead!! Hooray! Pictures are fun!

Ben and I went to Jimbo's new place once we got to Brighton Saturday afternoon. We made really good time. I think we made it there in under an hour. Jimbo lives in Jason's old place. With Steve Blake and T Mullen. There's some names you don't hear every day. Unless you're Jimbo I guess. Then you hear them every day. So we got the tour of Jimbo's. I walked up the stairs I'd projectile vomit on later that night. And we took shots of tequila [it was strawberry so I was allowed to break the ever present Tequila Ban], jagermeister, and drank the very preppy, Les Foote approved Busch Light bottles. ["It boggles the mind that Busch Light bottles aren't screw top." - Ben Walden.] Agreed. So, after a bit to drink (and nothing to eat but some scrounged up popcorn), Liz drove down a few blocks to Shannon St. to pick our sorry asses up.

Jimbo, Ben, & Liz. Men on a mission. "Men" in general. Because . . . you know, Liz isn't a "men", I mean "man". You know. Anyway. I'm taking the picture here, so that's why me not in it. I know we were talking about some heir to Nantucket Nectars at this point. I think it made Liz jealous that we weren't focused on Canada Dry.

So then we go to Kelly, Liz and Abby's place. And who's there but our old friend Coty. Long time no see. And Liz's friend from school Courtney. And while she shares the name of Satan herself, and even had blond hair, she was far cooler than that fishmonger from Clark Ave. Abby was also there and Coty, Ben and I alienated everyone by jabbering about Donnie Darko incessantly. And then Kelly came home and allowed me to shovel her special stash of candy down my gullet provided I not tell anyone where it was. And then we all, minus Kelly, were off to the worstingest, teeth gnashingest Red Sox game ever. We'd meet Rich there. And Jeff. Although we didn't know we'd meet Jeff there. He sort of drunkenly wandered around Fenway until he found us. And Marco was there too! Remember Marco! Oh crazy Marco, always doing crazy things. Sigh. So yeah, we took the "ol' reliable 57" as Tim Curtis was known to call it back when he was alive.

Coty, Jimbo, Ben, Abby, Courtney, & Liz a-waitin' the ol' 57. You can't tell from the picture, but I assure you, Ben Walden is wearing his Sunday's Best

So then we met everyone at the game and in the midst of it Kate & Andrea kept me updated with the score of the abysmal UNH game, and Maura actually called for the first time in months from Chicago, just to chat, and of course, she gets me while I'm on my way to getting tanked in the middle of the bleachers at Fenway Park. Sigh. The wacky calls just kept on a comin'. Amelia would call later when I was at the bar! I told you - wacky. So yeah, we went to some bar. Abby left us before we got there and Roy and Kelly met us there. Kelly brought her boyfriend Jim and we, well those of us who hadn't already met him, got to meet him. He is grand, if you can ignore that whole Canadian thing. ["It's not a Canadian Jim, it's a Canada Jim." - Brett] I don't remember the bar, but it sounded like "Onomatopoeia". So that's what I shall call it. This part gets hazy. But apparently I finished a roll of film here. I know that we met up with some of Jimbo's friends who poked and poked me in order to get me to go off on a tagent about cereal. Because apparently I did one time when I was drunk and they found it HI-larious. Next thing I knew, I was ripping on Fruity Pebbles and the like. I'm so easy. I know I ordered a lot of drinks. And I know I spent waaaay too much money. And I know I started drinking lots of vodka/red bulls. Don't I have friends? Why don't they stop Zach from making bad decisions?! I know there was a dance floor. With bright orange lights. And I found myself there far too often. And I know I got into a minor tiff with Rich over him choosing when a little white lie is appropriate and when it is not. I know that I hung out with Roy a lot and that we laughed quite heartily when a certain song came on that reminded us of a visit to Pizza Hut long, long ago. I know that Rachel was supposed to meet us there, but after several hard to hear cell phone conversations with her, she got waylaid by her party and we never saw her. Which is for the best. Because I've been told by third parties that her ex-boyfriend was there and I harassed him about Maura Tierney to no end. What a sad predictable creature I be.

Coty, respectable Rich, Liz, and Kelly

A somber Rich, the imcomparable Fred Robie, and the adjectiveless Coty

I got very drunk. Apparently we called cabs. Apparently Rich drove all the way home to Laconia. AGAIN. I don't recall any of this. I don't recall the cab ride, but I'm told I kept butting my nose against the glass divider so much that the driver lowered it out of annoyance. And when I saw Jimbo in shotgun following this I was pleased as punch and yelled, "Jimbo! What are you doing here?!" We got dropped off at Jimbo's and apparently we stayed up and shot the shit with Steve and T. I'll have to take everyone's word for it. Apparently, I also started puking off the balcony on to the stairs down below. This is when, and I vaguely remember this, everyone's favorite friend Fred came running out to the balcony with a red bowl full of water. He shoved it in my face and was yelling, "Drink this! You've got to drink this!" I drank some. Some of it, ok, most of it spilled down my shirt. It was cold. On my skin. So cold. Then I don't remember much. I remember a Fenway Frank going in rewind out of my stomach. And then Fred. With a bowl. Spilling water everywhere. Commanding me to drink more water. "Drink it! I'm not leaving until you drink that! You need to stay hydrated!" I'd take some in to my mouth (it tasted so ceramic-y!) and then hold it there, and when he'd turn around to go back inside I'd spit it out. But I was wasted and apparently not as slick as I would have liked to have been. "I saw that! I'm filling up that bowl again!" God damn. He was fucking killing me with this bowl shit. Why didn't I just knock the bowl out of his hands?! I was terrified every time he came back out on the balcony with more bowl of water, demanding I finish them all! I hated it. The next thing I knew, I woke up in my jeans on the couch watching The Masters.

Z: "I . . . I remember . . . I remember all these bowls of water. And Fred! [My eyes widen as I point at him on the other couch] You! You kept bringing me all these bowls! I can still taste it! So much water! You made me drink out of them like a dog! Argh! I hated it!"

Ben: "You are so fucking gross! All you had to do was move over like 2 feet and you would have been puking on the grass and not their stairs! Also, in Fred's defense, he wanted to make sure you stayed hydrated and I don't think he knew where the cups were."

F: "Oh . . . I knew. I knew where the cups were. It wouldn't have been as funny if I just had him drinking out of cups."

These are my friends, people.

So then we (Jimbo, Steve, T, Ben, Fred, me) went to Brookline and waited for 40 minutes for some really good breakfast. Seriously. It kicked ass.

When we got home that day we felt like shit and didn't do much. Well, I didn't do much. Ben probably poured concrete somewhere and drilled holes in something.

Monday I sent out the letter to McLaughlin. 15 people sent messages. Very cool. Very cool indeed. Emily said that Mr. McLaughlin wants to throw a party for Tim when he gets home. Very cool. Fun time. As long as we don't let Ben and Keith start wrestling and kick out another window on the McLaughlin's living room door frame. Trust me - bad scene.

Then the week went by and I'm sure Kate, Hayley, Andrea, Alyson had lots of wacky fun. Oh wait, actually, Tuesday, tax day, was Andrea's birthday! I got her Ben Folds Five live DVD and Spirited Away DVD. Sweet. More sweet when she lets me borrow them. At least I didn't get a bowling ball that said "Zach". Awwwww yeah, bowling. I want to go Cosmic Bowling again! We (Ben, Phil, Andrea, and me) have wanted to go see A Mighty Wind since it opened last Wednesday, but it's still playing nowhere near here. Rassem frassem. . .

Then Friday came and I have no recollection whatsoever what I did. Oh wait. Yes. I was at the mall, on my night off making CD covers for the mixes I made those two rat bastards Arthur and Brett. Which just reminded me that I have to print out a CD Cover for Kelly now that I have the capability again. Yeah Zach, that's it, just keep thinking out loud. That's what this monstrously long entry needs more of.

Saturday I left work early - because I can - and I went home and packed my shit up and waited for Polly Prissypants to shower and get ready and we left for Laconia. I stopped at Patrick's and gave Artie his CD I made, title appropriately enough, "I Like Orange Balls!" Dropped Ben off, hung out at the Culkins and made fun of Lesley's friends while we watched Brooke apply make up. Fun stuff. Eventually I left for the wild expanse of Gilmanton Iron Works. [I probably should have mentioned somewhere around here that Brett and Monique were coming home - with the promise of my darling Nico in an Easter bonnet - and a bunch of us had made plans to meet at the Common Man in Ashland for drinks and as Nanny might put it, "pickies".] So I got to the Peaslees, after many ditches and sink holes and wild vole run-ins. I said hi to the Mr. and Mrs. and the counter rib and we were off. Until Monique realized she forgot her ID. So we went back for it. And then we were off! Again! Sadly, Mrs. Peaslee never imparted her famous words of wisdom to me and my new driving bad self, "Zach, don't be a hero!" Sigh. And back to Ben's! And then to Brooke's! And it was almost 9! Did I mention how much I love driving! This time, we actually got to see Rachel, unlike the weekend before at Onomatopoeia. We met her new boyfriend, Kevin and Hannah also showed up, towing her old college friend Brenda with her. We had never met Brenda before. I was definitely in the Pro-Brenda camp. Not that there was an Anti-Brenda camp, but if there was, I'd be leading the Pro-Brenda camp in our attempts to fire bomb the Anti-Brenda camp until they saw the error of their ways. Ol' snortin' Morten even showed up. Isn't that grand? There was a lot of us and we dranks lots (well, not me) and ate lots and probably made our waitress want to kill herself, but we left a big tip so that's all that matters. Everyone was on this big white chocolate martini kick. Except Brett, I think he stuck mostly to Sea Breezes, and other girly fruity drinks. Also, we played jenga! Jenga! Oh what a crazy time.

(l to r) Here we have Rachel, Brett, and Monique looking their best while playing them some Super Jenga!

Sunday was Easter. I was a little tired when my mother woke me up at 8 AM seeing as I didn't get home from dropping off everyone all over the state the night before until 2:15. I swapped Sopranos Seasons with Brett and Monique, and almost hit a family of deer near ol' Rt. 140. So yeah, that's how that goes. I got Hunter S. Thompson's Kingdom of Fear and the new Criterion Collection version of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas on DVD. So those were pretty sweet.

ZQF8 (1:50:55 AM): I can't friggin' believe I'm still writing this god damn entry

drewbeann (1:51:18 AM): wow, must be a big one. have a rowdy easter?

ZQF8 (1:51:29 AM): the rowdiest

drewbeann (1:51:50 AM): neat

ZQF8 (1:51:57 AM): I think I'm gonna include what we are saying right now in the entry - just to make it longer - cause I think what it's missing is length

drewbeann (1:52:15 AM): hehe, lovely! wait, i should be wittier

ZQF8 (1:52:20 AM): you should

ZQF8 (1:52:23 AM): we all should

drewbeann (1:52:54 AM): true. but i'm tired. my damn dorm had a fire alarm at 5:30 am and it made me so nervous i was up for a while.

ZQF8 (1:53:12 AM): wow - that's pretty witty - I can't beat that

drewbeann (1:53:27 AM): i know. such is the cut of my jib.

ZQF8 (1:53:33 AM): hooray!

ZQF8 (1:53:35 AM): what an ending!

So yeah, remind me to thank Zach and Hannah for that segue - Easter was a rowdy time. Lots of bad vibes all around at Harts. I sat at a table with my dad, my cousin Alyson, and Mike, the husband she is seperated from - while my mother and her Aunt Jean, Nanny, Brad, Conner, Caleb, my dad's brother Jim and his wife, my mother's sister, Barb sat across from us. Behind them sat Linda, Greg, Sabby, her boyfriend Mark, Susie, her boyfriend Jim? Jeff? Clark? and Susie's boyfriend's daughter Steph. Yup. A good ol' fashioned Easter. I felt bad for my dad. I know he didn't want to be there. But he didn't really have a lot of options. I'm happy he's out of his relationship with that wailing harpy anthropomorphic baseball glove, but I know he'd rather have been anywhere else. He cut out early and I don't blame him. I left shortly after, which apparently caused a stir, but my moronic family must have mistook me for someone who actually fucking cares.

I visited my Grandpa Foote's grave while I was home. Something I do far too rarely. I didn't really have a lot of opportunities to before without a license. It was emotional. To say the least. I don't know. Laconia skeeved me out. Not because I went to the cemetary. Though that certainly didn't help. I don't know. I haven't really driven around LA that many times. And I think I had borderline anxiety attacks when I was driving around. This probably makes no sense. I actually spoke to Beth when I was home. She wasn't home, but I got her number in Manch-vegas from her mom. She was good. I was glad to talk to her. Hopefully it won't be another year before I talk to her again. Oh well, I e-mailed her. So the ball's in her court. Good lord, if I talk to Annie and Stacey by year's end who else will I be left to be non-communicado with?! If I know me, I'm sure I'll manage somehow.

Oh? And Challenge this week? Please. I knew that all that drama about uber-bitch Emily was gonna be resolved in the first 30 seconds. Did I ever mention that our friend Coty was using "Emily & James" as a derogatory name for "Stacey and Marshall". Oh that Armenian wit! Wait - so did Ellen ever get her ass kicked by Puck? Perhaps it slipped by. I'd comment on who got kicked off but the fuckmonkeys at MTV, who apparently get paid in day old Easter Peeps reran the first 15 minutes as the second 15 minutes as well. Cause that's what I want - stupid Emily "if your sister needed you" bullshit twice in one night. It made me vomit in my shoes.

Now what? Can that be it dear friends?! Hell no! I do believe waaaaaaaaay back at the start of this here entry I said that my ship had come in. And boy howdy did it! Some of you already know since I called you in joyous tears Tuesday night yelping like a yelping school girl. But that golden day has arrived. That's right people. They announced it Tuesday. NewsRadio is set to be released on DVD before the end of the year. Seriously, I'm getting goosebumps just typing it. ["The fact that my son has just asked me to make sure he gets buried with his NewsRadio DVDs does strike me as a little odd, not to mention extremely morbid." - My Mom] Seriously, Spider-Man was made, my Talking Heads reunited for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, I've seen Paul McCartney, I've met David Byrne. I've traveled cross-country, I've been to Europe. With the exception of not yet marrying MT, NewsRadio on DVD is one of the last of my highly set bars to fall. Well, I have to stay alive long enough for the "Sugar" season to make it to DVD for Simpsons. And Freaks and Geeks on DVD wouldn't be a bad thing either. Go vote for it! Those votes for NewsRadio that I asked everyone to support obviously helped! Go vote! Sigh. I guess I'll be around for a while yet . . .

I still think I did vote for you . . .

Now, to end in grand fashion. I went to Play MASH earlier and worked out my virtual MASH. Sigh. I could've ended up with Sydney Bristow, Neve Campbell, Claire Danes or Maura Tierney. I could have had a Delorean, a Suburban, a Saab convertible! Could have lived in NYC, Boston, or Zagreb! Be an astronaut, spy, or canoli eater! Sigh. With the excpetion of my job, it all went horribly horribly wrong.

You will live in Shack.

You will drive a salmon Volkswagon Bug.

You will marry Fat Pat Chase and have 1 kid.

You will be a Spider-Man in Cedar City.

It's been real,

Clint Barton

4 comments so far

<-- Back to the Salt Mines! - Onward, to the Bee-Mobile! -->

2002 - 2009 ZQF8

about me - read my profile! read other Diar
yLand diaries! recommend my diary to a friend! Get
 your own fun + free diary at!