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Pushing The Blender Buttons

2005-11-16 - 6:30 a.m.

Quote #1: "If I was a Sith Lord, I'd be 'Darth Awesome'!" - Justin

Listening To: Orange Juice, The Shins, Beck, Bunzu Sounds, The Thrills

Quote #2: "There must be a stinkbug around, because my penis is sting-y." - Dustin

Lordy, lordy. Where does the time go? Hmmmm? What's that? It goes to a plantation in Hawaii where God portions it out in little packets? No good sir and/or madam, I do believe you're thinking about sugar. And sugar and time go together about as well as corn and sugar stick cones from Puerto Rico. I . . . um, this is probably not the best way to start this. (OR IS IT THE BEST WAY TO START THIS?!) Eh, it's an ok way to start. Let's settle on that, huh?

Ok, a lot a lot a lot a lot carlotta a lot going on these last few weeks. Only, there's just one problem! A space canteloupe (otherwise known as a meteorite) fell on my head last night and now I can't remember the chronological order of anything from the last two weeks! Uh-oh! If you think Professor Dantle should go to the spooky caves, turn to page 74. If you think instead it's time to relax with some fresh icy-hot, turn to page 23. If you rarely have a clue what I'm talking about, turn to the "Don't worry, neither do I!" page! Hooray! So the moral of the story is this: I remember a bunch of business from the last few weeks. Some of it with visual aids. Some of it with lemonade. Some of it was bloody. Some of it was musty. And most all of it was covered in a thin layer of marzipan. So are you ready for me to gently lower my brain into the blender and press any order of puree, frappe, liquify, obliterate that you'd like?? AWESOME! Let's go!

We might as well start with the most bloodcurdling episode. Or maybe that was bloodletting? It was definitely blood sucking. So Kenichi comes in to the house one night and it looks like a fucking mutant sesame seed has affixed itself on to his shoulder. Which is very likely. It happens all the time. In fact, I was just about to accept this as the answer when I noticed this "sesame seed" seemed a little smokier in color than a real, non-mutant seed. So I got a little closer and noticed it was very shiny and perhaps a little pulsating. Great, it's what we all fear, a GIANT BLOODSUCKING TICK. Super sweet. So the first thing I did was hit Kenichi over the head with a frying pan. The cat's fucking bionic and shit though so that didn't do a thing other than fuck up a perfectly good frying pan. So then I went and got some scissors and decided it was time for some light and frothy surgery. [Is there any other kind?] Note to readers: Looking for a good time? Get a a pair of scissors, try to hold your cat down, and then try to cut things off his body. Hours of fun! Let sit. Yields 6 muffins! God, I'm so tired. ANYWAY, so I snicker-snack the giant tick out from Kenich's shoulder. Typical Kannerson, he just sits there and licks his paws and glares at me like it's fucking Arbor Day or some shit. Boy, I'm awfully swear-y this morning. So now the score is, Kenichi: 1, Tick: 0, Me: 1

Because it wasn't already super fucking creepy enough, right? It had to dangle its little wispy tick legs all this way and that!

So I hate this tick. And I'm yelling at it. Calling it every tick insult I know. Kenichi leaves the room. He had become bored with this. He went off to tend to all the wounds he keeps receiving due to his recent decision to become the neighborhood badass. For no reason, he now feels the need to just start fights with every Tom, Dick and Wolverine he runs across. And his head is ganked up to prove it. Don't believe me?

Don't worry. I put those green lines in with photoshop. He's not THAT fucked up.

So now the score is Kenichi: -1, Tick: 0, Me: 1. And the tick is just stuck on his back, fully engorged with Kenichi's blood. I know that picture looks gross, but it was even more gross looking at it on my kitchen floor. So I did the only logical thing I could do. The thing that would result in our new scores tallying at, Kenichi: -1, Tick: -147, Me: WINNER! [I have no idea how this scoring system works] I CHOPPED HIM IN HALF WITH A PLASTIC KNIFE!! (the tick, not Kenichi).

That's right. I fucked that tick's shit UP! Look at him all bleeding out Kenichi's blood. All writhing in pain and thinking, "Why here?! Why did I have to die on this filthy kitchen floor when I could have died in a relatively clean gutter somewhere!" Well, he wouldn't be thinking that probably . . . since I CUT HIS BRAIN IN HALF. Maybe. I don't know where a tick's brain is. Chances are. And see Kenichi's single strand of hair at the scene of the crime? That's DNA evidence! I don't know the significance of it, but I know it's DNA! If Kenichi has smoked pot in the last 30 days, he is soooooo screwed. You know . . . if he applies for a government job . . . or something. I don't know.

So what else? Oh, I know. I drove up to Bristol a while back to visit Beth and Ryan. They seem to have a wee bit more elbow room than they did in Manch. It just dawned on me that the last 3 times I visited Beth and Ryan, they lived in a different place each time. Do you think they're trying to lose me? I didn't think so. Until . . . just now. Hmmmm, well they're not doing a good job of it, as they keep giving me their current address. Anyway, I went up on a Tuesday night, picked Beth up in Meredith (where we embraced our inner-redneck at Star Market where there was a beer banner that was proudly flying emblazoned with: "Hunters, Welcome Back to the High Life!" Get it? Get it? Shut the fuck up.) Anyway, driving in a car where Beth is not the driver is not too bad of an experience. It's not as rough as the new Six Flags ride their working on for Summer '06 called, "Eshelman VirtuaDriver", where you are the passenger in a car driven by Beth. It's frighteningly realistic with its curb jumping! I was fed a big spaghetti dinner (which was way better than the bagel I probably would have had at home) and hung out in their huge ski chalet of an upper living room thingy. I didn't feel like driving back that night, even though I had to work early in the AM, but I the evil demons at Meineke had STILL neglected to give me my inspection sticker. (For those of you checking the calendar, yes, it was due in August) So I had to continue to take advantage of the cover of darkness and drive home that night. But I left satisfactory in the knowledge that I had made new converts of Beth and Ryan to the world of Y: The Last Man. That was 2 weeks ago, and already Beth and Ryan are desperately awaiting the next installments of Y and Ex Machina. I have just sent them the first 2 volumes of Fables in the mail. Aren't you all jealous? Don't you wish you could read them again . . . for the first time?

Oh, speaking of Y! (Damn, these segues are just writing themselves!) Ben Cole and Shan-Y came over for a rather delicious Alias last week! Why? Well, the love of Jack Bristow brightens up any Thursday night, but last week was a Y week so they got a new issue to take in during the commercials of Alias. New Alias. New Y. It's a bit too much to take. Add to that, the cover of Y had a ladybug featured prominently on it! What's a ladybug/Bristow-obsessed Hankin to do? Also, Ben and Shannon read the issue together at the same time. That is love people. Now if we can just get Jack Bristow to shoot off a celebratory round of ammo at their wedding, my mission will be complete!

Don't worry those of you not caught up on Y, the cover doesn't ruin anything. But if you look right under Ben's thumb you can see the ladybug of Shannon's affections. Not to be confused with the cat named Ladybug, which is certainly NOT an object of Shannon's affections

Catfish, Andrea, Phil, Todd, Rex and I went to the Guster concert at the Hampton Casino last Friday. It was fun. It was also, inexplicably, the SIXTH Guster concert I've been to! Ok, I guess it's rather explicable: I went to five Guster concerts. Then I went to this one. Making a grand total of six. It's just . . . I like Guster, I do, but I never thought I would end up seeing them a half a dozen times! (Get it, 6 x 2 = 12! A dozen!) Yeah, Matt Pond P.A. was the opener and the place was sold out. Huge range of ages. The three songs that I always want Guster to play are Happy Frappy, Great Escape and Two Points For Honesty. They never play these songs. They played Escape & Honesty. So I was sated. And Todd and Rex got to meet the band (well, Adam) after the show and he signed their new Guster shirts, so that was cool. AND I got to show off my new hat that I bought at work. Matt and I bought the same hat (we had about 30 choices) because we're cool like that. People looked at my hat with what could be described as derision, but was probably more like JEALOUSY. And for all you vegans and animal lovers out there (which includes a group that happens to be, oh, I don't know, ALL OF MY FRIENDS) don't you worry your pretty little scalps and pelts, the fur on the hat is ABSOLUTELY not real. No way. I do not lie. And I don't plan on starting now.

Isn't that a sweet picture? America's Next Top Model should be knocking on my door right . . . about . . . now! Ok . . . now! Ok, maybe they're just lost. R'ford is rather foggy this morning. It's understandable. But golly does America's Next Top Model LOVE ski shades from the 70's. They go ga-ga for them. But yeah, that's also my new MySpace picture. Oh what's this? You mean the site that has sucked out my soul for the last month?? Yeah, that ol' rascally MySpace. Seriously, it's fuuuuuuun. Everyone's doing it. Everyone's jumping off the Messer St. bridge! Shouldn't you be? I mean, come on. The Messer St. bridge? That shit is 20 feet high if it's 10. My grandmother jumps off that bridge every morning right after her coffee. She does! And she swims upstream to Jewett Brook. I do not lie. And I don't plan on starting now. But yeah, again, for you slowbirds, here's my MySpace page. What's that? Do I have a blog there as well? Am I cheating on you guys . . . a little bit . . . kinda? YES. I am. Don't worry baby, I'll always stay true to you, but right now MySpace lets me be free. It doesn't always make me go to the same. fucking. Italian. Restaurant. every single Friday night, you know? And MySpace is a little more "adventurous", ya dig? That's right, MySpace lets me do that "thing" that you claim makes you feel "like an objectified piece of meat." Well you know what? When I suggested it to MySpace the response was, "Baby, objectify this piece of meat! OBJECTIFY!" SO THERE! I . . . I think I need more niacin in my diet. Or maybe less anti-freeze.

Oh, anti-freeze. Great. That reminds me of work. Work blows. Well, that's a given. When I go and do the weekend shifts at the Wallakers, and the random weekday night, no matter HOW busy it is at the Wallakers, I feel like I'm on vacation. And it's not because the Diamond Mines have been so busy. Far from it. I'm just sick of dealing with a.) stupid people, b.) stupid go-karts, c.) people who are stupid, and d.)stupid people who smell. I think that covered all the bases. Dustin's last day is this Friday and they STILL don't see any need to hire anyone new. Which means that from Friday on, I will be the new bitch at work and as soon as someone decides that they need a special golden bolt that is hidden at the bottom of the wood dumpster I will be asked to retrieve it - no matter if I'm with a customer, on calling in an order, or shooting elastics at Mark. Boy. I can't wait. Of course, I'm not exactly Mr. Popularity at work right now anyway since I'm taking almost all of next week off. Hey, bitches, guess what? I've been working straight since my fucking BIRTHDAY. WHICH, AGAIN, I WILL STATE, IS IN AUGUST. So yeah. I cannot wait to be out of here and in New York. Although the thought of fighting Monique over turkey legs seems both a bit daunting and exhausting.

Speaking of work, a bunch of the guys came over a few weekends ago. It was . . . not exactly a party. But any real definition of the word. And there's plenty I could write about but not much that's worth writing about. I will say the following things about the party. #1 - I'm glad I had them come over. #2 - The guest list needs to be tweaked if it's ever going to happen again. #3 - I hate it when bitchy bitches are bitches. That is all.

A permanent reminder from the party. That's right, a burn that resembles a tarantula seared into the kitchen floor

Speaking of bitchy bitches who are bitches! Man, I don't have time for this rant, I need to get read for work, so I shall truncate it wildly. FOX? ARE YOU TRYING TO BE THE NEW NBC?! Cancellation of shows merely to earn my ire? You gave Kitchen Confidential THREE FUCKING AIRINGS before deciding that it "wasn't working out"? You cut back Arrested Development's episode order from 22 to 13 and are about to cancel it? I am sick of people complaining that they don't watch tv because there's nothing good on. And don't EVEN get me STARTED on people who just "don't like tv". Oh really? You don't like television? Do you not like clouds either? Or trees? Or juice? You can't hate ALL tv? It's an impossibility. And if you're going to like tv, and if you're baseline human, you do. So you might as well not waste your precious, precious time on half of that reality shit and shitty "comedies" like According to Jim and Yes, Dear (sorry Jon, it's true) and support engaging, creative, redefining work like Arrested Development! I agree that the television rating system is wrong, corrupt, fucked up, idiotic, you name the synonym, but in the meantime, vote with your dollars! But A.D. Season 1 (and/or 2!) as a Christmas present for family or friends! Or for yourself if you've never seen it. I have never stood so strongly behind a show's quality since NewsRadio. Which was another show that wilted while "real" comedic gems like Mad About You, Suddenly Susan, and Veronica's Closet thrived. God, it makes me so mad I WANT TO FUCKING SPIT. I want to SPIT PUKE on Tracey Lundgren's face. Oh God, now look what I've done. Besides give Google a field day. Now I've gotten myself all riled up for work. Grand. Please . . . please. Pray for Arrested Development.

I will try to force myself into a better mood now. If it's possible. Hmmmmm . . . I know! Al-Y and Shan-Y went and saw Dan Zanes right before Halloween and got to meet him after! And got their pictures taken with him! And had him sign a program for me. Those girls are such starfuckers. As much as one can be a starfucker towards Dan Zanes.

Man, Shannon is owning this entry. Good job friend. Goblet of Fire is coming out this week and I am looking forward to said fiery goblet. The tentative plan is to go Friday or Saturday night after work. Hayley and I don't care who comes with as long as her and I get to see it. Anyone is welcome to join us. Except TC or Shannon. But they wouldn't want to go anyway since they hate Harry Potter and wish he was dead. Aren't they mean? They don't believe in the Easter Bunny either. Well newsflash kiddos, the Easter Bunny IS real. And I killed him. And made him into my new hat. Uh oh . . . perhaps I've said too much.

Peter, Titie and baby Evelyn are doing keen. If by "keen" you mean "Peter and Titie shall never again know what it is to be on any regular sort of a sleep schedule", then yes, keen it is! In spades! The illustrious Jackie came up this last weekend to visit the baby, but due to all my wallakerosity, I missed out on seeing her. Alas. But yes, the "new" Farmer family is doing great and they thank you all for your well-wishes. Except you Ricky. They think you smell. I told them they were right. You do smell.

Also, there has been a Quote Explosion on the Quotes Page. You'd be wise to check it on out. It's been real,

Chester A. Arthur

ps - A Happy Birthday goes out to Jeff and to Lady L (and all of the other people that are connected to me by one degree or another who have a birthday today. No Dwight Gooden, I'm not looking at you.)

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