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04 May 2006
I like soup. The sky looks blue. I hate my job. I used the word "dandle" the other night. How about you?
My roommate is driving me fucking crazy. And I don't really know what to do about it. Hopefully the place she works gets a new show soon, so she'll be gone all the time again, like she used to be.
I like soup. I can't see the sky. I hate my job environment. I am curious and would implore you, Hugh, to share the context of your use of the fine word "dandle."
I love corn chowder. I can see the sky reflected off my computer monitor. I just got offered a new job. And every time I think of the word "dandle," the image always includes a baby and a knee.
I have a can of Campbell's Chunky Clam Chowder at home. Maybe I'll eat it tonight. The sky is blue here too. My middle finger still hurts. I have to enter data on this later. Every time that video or CD is played anywhere, somewhere a Republican is born.
After we left Antarctica the other night, en route to Tea & Sympathy, I said to jonmc and Pips, "That bartender is dreamy. I'd sure like to dandle her on my knee."
I love soup, especially thick and/or creamy ones like cream-of-x and chowders and stews and whatnot. The sky's dark gray. I have a love/hate relationship with my job. Speaking of my job--some coworkers and I have an ongoing Place the State contest going.
(The guilt-ridden department manager is making the rounds asking us for 'feedback,' on the 'new era,' meeting the other day, me and my cubie kevin told her the truth, that the 'new era' talk was hard to take. She nodded soberly. I really wish she'd just go find a church and confess or something.
Also this morning as I got into the elevator and pressed my floor. This cheery girl (who reminded me of that bimbo in that stupid chase bank commercial) said 'you work at Dumbco?' I grunted affirmitavely. 'Me too.' she bubbled. 'I'm from Seattle, just here for the day. It seems great.' I grunted again. I felt like grabbing her by the hair and swinging her around the elevator car while screaming like Gilbert Gottfried on a crack binge. But you don't let shiot get to you.)
Pho is one of the most grand things in the world. I just listened to the Dr No soundtrack. I fucking love my job, which after 15 years is pretty damn cool. I really need to clean out the garage. Last night I watched the first disc of the Tom Snyder "punk" DVDs.
I'm working at home today becasue my car died and now it's sitting at the garage costing me what I assume will be lots of money. But that's to be expected when it's 10 yars old with almost 160,000 miles.
(Also, I just came back from the men's room. over one of the urinals is posted a handwritten sign reading (no joke) 'UOT OF ORDER.' So now we have dyslexic custodians to deal with, too.)
The unexpected rain shower has ended. I can see 7 tall buildings from my 14th floor window. Sunshine is reflecting off of the white 40 storey building across the way.
I am writing code that uses callback functions, and my brain keeps going "I ain't no callerback girl, ain't no callerback!" This is not helped by the fact that I've never actually heard the original song, only the chorus.
Crap. Just found out a good friend of mine got mugged at knifepoint in Brooklyn last night; she's safe, just real shook up. She knew what to do, just dropped her bag and gave up her phone (she was on the phone with my buddy, her boyfriend, who listened to the kids running away with him on the line) and she took off running the other way.
Fucking kids.
You know, for all the spinny ways they can shine up the economy for the State of the Union address, it's statistics on petty crime that show the real picture. The more muggings and housebreakings and theft and prostitution, the worse the local economy. When those stats increase nationwide, we know people are being driven to it all over.
I might take off work and go shopping for personal defense devices this afternoon.
i like decaf. i just split my knuckle machining a piece for a vibration sensor and i'm covered in aluminum shavings. i'm going to a deserted island in the fulg fo eximco friday, where i intend to wear only suntan lotion and run naked as a jaybird, just me and some new balances.
which i think are the best personal defensive devices, personally, incidentally. because for anything else, (a) you have to be willing to use it, (b) you're now one of those guys who turns out his pockets and has a gravity knife and everyone thinks you're scary. then again, i live in what is statistically the second safest city in the country, so what do i know. not much. i don't know much.
I remember that from when I was little, jonmc. I was a serious "Free to Be" kid. Whenever I'd skin my knee or get my feelings hurt, my brother would be there to sing, "It's alright to cry...."
(I've actually heard Rosie's attempts at soul stardom. They're not too bad.)
As for Free To Be...it hasn't aged well. It makes tolerance and togetherness seem so cloying and treacly that it makes me want to buy a shotgun and stock my Idaho cabin with beans and hardtack to wait out armageddon.
Was that the one with Meadowlark Lemon explaininf longitude and Julia Child reading the ingredients of a lemon cream pie, all the polysorbate 80 and guar gum and all, and at the end, she says, "no lemon; no cream; just pie?"
My early memories get a little emulsified sometimes.
And stay the fuck away from my cabin, outsider! You want beans, go salvage your own! This iron ain't filled with rock salt, you know!
I'm just back from the deli with a honey ham, honey turkey, swiss and honey mustard wrap, a bag of BBQ chips and a bottle of this stuff which tastes vaguely like liquified sugar cereal sprinkled with Folgers crystals. It's billed as a 'carbonated fusion beverage.' which means that Billy Cobham and Larry Coryell enjoy it when they have gas. or something.
I think it only fair to mention that I am a fan of both New York in June and Gershwin tunes. Further more, I like potato chips and am especially fond of motor trips under moonlight. how about you?
Sounds awesome, Pips. Kinda like my mom's fruit cocktail cake (which she probably got from the back of a Libby's fruit cocktail can, oh well), which recipe I'll post sometime.
My boss scheduled a 4:00 meeting so I can't go look at guns.
I'm having a pastrami sandwich with pickles and horseradish mustard, Cool Ranch Doritos, and (of course) a Mountain Dew. I'll save my soup eating for when I can enjoy it (away from my desk).
Look at all the huggy parentheses!
Parentheses v. Micronions. Who will emerge victorious after 30 years of fighting (30 space years, that is)?
photo by splunge
photo by TheophileEscargot
photo by Kronos_to_Earth
photo by ethylene
