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Deep Fried Electromagnetic Spectrum

2005-08-25 - 7:35 a.m.

Mood: Talcumesque

Listening To: Foo Fighters, Flaming Lips, Sinatra, Pixies, Cake

Quote: 'For kindas, Lilac Mallsies.' - Kate (she's special)

Ok. Who's stupid idea was it for me to do an entry every day? I'm not a spry young tick-tock anymore. I'm almost 27! My typing fingers are held together with marjorum and masking tape. Woe is me. Truly.

Sweet merciful crap, I can't believe it's almost my birthday. Did I mention that I want the newest Ben Folds live CD? Because I do. Is it too late to still be asking for presents? I don't think so. Oh man, if the Ducktales DVDs were out already you know I'd be asking for those too. Lord knows I can't keep my eyes of an evil sexy female duck! Jeeze, that link is trip into the way back machine, no?

The work BBBQ actually wasn't half bad yesterday. Sue cooked up about 3,000 lbs. of meat and we all probably ate 6 servings more than we should have. I'd been realtively good lately too in not eating my weight in sausage subs. But one is allowed a spate of weak moments during birthday week. Chase and Big Nick missed out. Though, technically they didn't have to be at work. So I guess they hardly missed out.

The crazy business decends unto the Rollinsford Business District starting this evening. Matt and Peter return from New York (where they've been visiting relatives Matt hasn't seen in many moons), Mindy and Ted touchdown sometime tonight, and Monique's bus arrives in Dover at some ridiculously ungodly hour of like 2 AM. Ok, I kid. It's like 1:45 AM.

I still have so much left to do to get the house ready for the party. Not too surprisingly, I've gotten zero to no help from Ben. (Get it? "Zero to none"? shut up.) His giant saw and the compressor and other various and sundry tool time fun is laying about the second half of the upstairs. Bathed in sawdust galore. Which is fine and all if they were byproducts of recent work. But they haven't been touched in several months. Whatever. I'm not going to get into this mode. I'm trying to stay positive here. I just never thought they day would come where Peter and I would have to do all the heavy lifting and Ben would simply be a guest, if that, at the party. Oh well.

Have you ever really tried to follow a rainbow? Come on, fess up. Have you? Fine. Sit there with that cold, judgemental glare. I'll be a man about it. I have followed a rainbow several times. In hopes to find something super sweet at the end of it. Granted, I lived in Lakeport when I did it and was no older than 8. And what 8 year old doesn't want a good heaping helping of pots o' gold? Think of all the Garbage Pail Kids I could have bought!

Well, that's a bad example. I wasn't allowed to have Garbage Pail Kids. I had to just drool over Tim Laurent's extensive collection. My stupid parents. I could play Frostbite and Pitfall in the basement until my eyes bled pixels, but I had to sneak out of the house to Allyson's to watch Tom & Jerry. Sigh. Anyway, where was I going with all of this? Oh yeah - rainbows. So I see this sweet rainbow above Market Basket when I got out of work yesterday. Don't believe me?

I lie about a lot. But not rainbows above grocery stores. Or . . . bouncy castles. Or . . . NewsRadio. Damn, that was a struggle just to come up with three

So yeah, rainy mcrainbow. All sweet. Grand. So I decide, well, you know, it's almost my birthday, I am smack dab in the middle of Birthday Month Week, why not try my luck for some gold? Or Press My Luck for a Catamaran? No whammies, no whammies, no whammies, big bucks, big bucks, STOP! Ah, an oldie but a goodie. So anyway, I follow the rainbow. I do. I can pretty see the bottom of it not far down the road towards Somersworth. Which should have been my first red flag of trouble, that the rainbow was stretching into "Topper" Country. So I get to the end of it. Was there a pot of gold? Were there little sprightly dancing Leprechans chock full of STDs? Did all my dreams come true? Was it all another step in the plans of corporate fast food interests to ensnare me into their traps? Sigh. You be the judge.

It's been real,

Tae Kwon Don't

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