53%, 47%
Saturday, December 30th, 2006| Your Brain is 53% Female, 47% Male |
![]() You are both sensitive and savvy Rational and reasonable, you tend to keep level headed But you also tend to wear your heart on your sleeve |
| Your Brain is 53% Female, 47% Male |
![]() You are both sensitive and savvy Rational and reasonable, you tend to keep level headed But you also tend to wear your heart on your sleeve |
So, Sweet Wlady Friday took off shortly after that post, and I was alone listening to my rokkin record collection and loading games on MastaG’s computer.
I now totally have computer envy.
Thats not a good thing, by any stretch. I think theres a computer gap, and if your 10 year old owns faster processing abilities and a much nicer monitor then you do, then you have a problem.
Yep.
I thought about beating up G and taking it, but he knows where I live. He’d probably have Pigpen backing him up, and that boy’s kinda beefy. No, its best to wait until I have a little discretionary cash, and lay it down.
Boy, wouldn’t it be something to get like, a big insurance payment, or something? I bet I could brush off a little discretionary cash from something like that…
—
Damama’s birthday is tomorrow, and like every year, everybody will get drunk to celebrate. I’m looking forward to having a nice reflective new years eve at home.
Despite what would seem to be common wisdom, it feels really good to be alone, in the house.
Setting: Living Room, on couch.
AT: Well, Sweet Lady Friday, I have a babysitter tonight since the kids wanted to stay over, which means I’m footloose and fancy free, what are we going to do with ourselves?
Sweet Lady Friday: Well, AT, I got shit all for you. I see you’ve put yourself a Scissor Sisters album on, and you can finish up loading all that software up on MastaG’s computer like you wanted to. I reckon you can drink yourself to a stupor with that unopened fifth of Crown up in the cabinet you’ve had since before Christmas, or those 4 or 5 six packs of good beer you’ve been collecting.
AT: Well, the album is a bit of a disappointment. I mean, the Scissor Sisters put out the best gay funk this side of Elton John on their first record, but by and large this one, their second, is suffering from the same sophomore slump that plagued The Zutons, The Futureheads, and to a lesser extent Interpol in the last couple of years. Its OK, and I do have it on vinyl, because BJ and I picked it out, but it doesn’t have the ass shakers like Laura or that Beegeeized cover of Comfortably Numb that their first record had.
As far as the booze goes, alcohol, sadly, has been giving me headaches lately. I think that last hangover down at the BBF really kinda did it in for me, Sweet Lady Friday.
I was kinda looking forward to installing that software, but damn, its a Friday. Don’t you have more in store for me?
SWF: Well, no, not really. I suppose you could take a bath?
AT: Shit, now you’re not even trying. I haven’t been able to fit in a bathtub since I was 12. BJ and I tried it together, and gave up before I even made it in the tub. I can’t even imagine the amount of water my sizable bulk would displace.
SWF: Damn. Thats a good point. You’re a big motherfucker.
AT: Shit dude, you don’t have to put it like that! I’ll have you know that I was down to 240 today, and that I’ve had a pretty normal appetite the last week or so, so my oranges and sit-ups seem to be having a result. Its also putting my belt into an uncomfortable “between holes” point.
SWF: Yeah, yeah, blah blah belt blah. You know, this record really isn’t that bad. This song has a bit of boogie to it.
AT: Yeah, it isn’t bad. I’m just bad about new music. I default to not liking a record the first time I hear it. There have been some exceptions, but not many. I have to force myself to listen to it until I know how the songs go before I really like it. Is that being a control freak?
SWF: Sugar, I’m Sweet Lady Friday, not your damn therapist. You’re probably neurotic as hell, talking to yourself like this.
AT: Well, I wouldn’t BE talking to myself if you’d get your shit together and show me where the party is.
SWF: Honey child, you don’t want a party. You want to be hanging out by yourself like you like to do.
AT: I do like to be by myself, but everybody tells me that I shouldn’t be. Hell, I kinda enjoy it. Hey, between you and me, I know where there are some Buckwilds hidden… have a cigar, just like Clint Eastwood. BTW, ‘Honey Child’? Seriously, we’re going there?
SWF: Damn son, you got some cigars? Do you have any bourbon?
AT: You know damn well all I have is that Crown. Is that bourbon? I don’t really know my liquors. (Gets up, flips record)
SWF: According to your sources, Crown Royal is a “Canadian whiskey”.
AT: Canadian whiskey? Really? Whats the difference between it and American whiskey?
SWF: You just want to set me up to make some lame Bob and Doug joke, and I’m not going to do that. I’m too classy a lady.
AT: Suit yourself. Damn. I’m kinda bored. Does this count as talking to oneself? Am I losing it?
800 Pound Gorilla in Room: Hell if I know. Pass the whiskey.
“Get up, AT! GO GO GO! Go clean the house! The kids are gone, you can do it, you can do it!”
AT: “uhhhg.”
—
In taking that picture, designed to demonstrate my sloth, it set off an interesting chain of events. Follow me, if you will.
Again, the digression, foolishness abounds indeed.
No, the thing is, this card had all sorts of pictures, and I didn’t realize it until I looked at it. The earliest one was 10/11, it went through the preparations for the renewal, it had pictures BJ was taking of the process of making her beer chair, pictures of the boys dressed up in their halloween costumes for school (which were the last ones she took).
It has the pictures of her in the bed that I took to reassure MastaG.
I’ve been bitching to myself about the way the ‘tumor does pictures, so I might get suck it up and get a flickr account (I HATE internet fads. I hate myspace, I hate blogger, I hate flickr. Why? Because I’m a wiener). When I do, I think I might just up the entire card, along with some other stuff. Pictures are nice.
I’m still in bed, just so you know…
… one of these kids just isn’t the same…
Oh hell yes. You can guess which one’s being funky right now.
Theres something else with getting the actual music instead of… ahem… downloading and burning CDs, the MP3 of the first song on Mothership Connection is evidently truncated, because the record goes on for an extra 4 minutes or so of makin’ my funk the P-Funk.
Oh yeah, those are my bitchin shoes in there…