You guys kick ass.

It is now 5:15 on Friday. At this point, I have raised $720.04.

The kicker? I've got just under 5 months before the ride.

I've already raised 58% of my goal.

Expect both my goal and my total to keep going up.

I'll say it again, you guys kick ass.

You can now officially blame me.

I did it. I sent out the e-mail with the info for my MS Ride information. It begs you for money. I apologize. I didn't write it.

As a side note, all contributions between 5pm today and midnight on Sunday/Monday help me win two tickets to the Chicago Auto Show's First Look for Charity Event, where I could possibly win a new car(either a Lexus C430 or an Acura TL).

Those of you who know me know how well I'd love to have a car again(or sell one of these, take the profit, buy a cheaper, more Dave-style car, and donate the rest). If it's free, I'd be so unbelieveably happy.

Imagine that.

It's cold out enough for your spit to bounce, but there' the Friday Five!

You have just won one million dollars:

1. Who do you call first?
It's a conference call: my brother, the lawyer, and my best friend, the accountant

2. What is the first thing you buy for yourself?
A beer. A really nice, very large, very cold beer. The first of many.

3. What is the first thing you buy for someone else?
A plane ticket for my brother(to help me set up whatever I need to set up).

4. Do you give any away? If yes, to whom?
I would definitely donate to my MS 150 Tour de Farms Ride.*

5. Do you invest any? If so, how?
I've now got contacts all over the Chicago financial scene. I'd just ask a couple friends, give each broker about $25 K, and see who did the best in a week. Whoever did, would get a whole lot more.

*Sorry for the blatant self-promotion. I didn't write the questions. No, really, I didn't. I did just receive an e-mail from one of the co-ordinators. They're running a contest to see who can raise the most money between 5pm today and midnight on Sunday. If you were planning on donating, this would be a good weekend to do so.

Believe it or not, I'm walking on air, I never thought I could feel so free.

That's right, kids. It's my second paycheck in my second incarnation* as a corporate worker bee.

And it's damn good to feel it.

I'm going to hug him and pet him and call him George and spend him on drinks and rental cars and all kinds of funny stuff.

Ok. Back to, well, nothing but loving my paycheck.

*This depends on how you look at it, I did, after all, quit [soulless company who stole my youth] twice, once in 1992 and again in 1999.

Sorry, more links to news stories that make me laugh.

Ok, just one.

I'd like to title the link in its own line, if you don't mind:

The price of leaving your mark.

Hail to the chief, indeed.

I came across this article, and, as usual, just about peed myself. I got to thinking about what might happen nowadays in the good ol' Casablanca. Lots of stumbling? General falling down issues? What?

In totally unrelated but still amusing news, what would you do if you were the Australian version of INS in this case? Whole lot of irony goin' on in this world. Love it. Every minute.

It's the new style...

4 and 3 and 2 and 1, and when I'm on the da mic, da suckas run.

Sorry. Reliving my youth. The latest fad here at the Tech Support Desk is Yahoo Bowling. The enterprising young men that we are, we're trying to beat the high score. We've come close, but we're not there yet.

It sure beats the hell out of Tetris, anyways.

So, I woke up before the alarm this morning, and got into a panic, because I didn't read the clock right. It was the damn-did-I-forget-to-turn-the-alarm-on panic attack that we're all so used to. Turns out I can't distinguish between a 4 and a 5 sometimes. Then, after my alarm went off, I hit the snooze for that extra 9 minutes of wishing I could sleep til 6. I woke up before the snooze alarm, very much in a panic, as I read 5:22 as 5:52. That led to a couple minutes of panicky ok-can-I-actually-take-a-shower-and-shave-my-head-in-10-minutes-and-iron-my-clothes-and-be-out-the-door-or-should-I-just-call-in-and-say-I'm-going-to-be-late mumbling, then the snooze alarm went off.

So, the big question on my mind is, should I start wearing contacts to I can read the goddamn clock? A little laser-eye surgery perhaps?

News before I go.

I like you Stewart, you're not like the other people, here in the trailer park.

Rental cars suck.

I need to own a car again, methinks. This is a recurring theme in my blog, each time I decide I want to drive somewhere out of town, like, say, my grandparents' farm out in western Illinois. I miss having a car. I liked it, except when some jerks stole my radio antenna. And the fact that the driver's side window broke, and didn't roll down or up properly. That was kind of a pain in the ass. Not to mention remembering to do oil changes and that crap.

Ok. Maybe I don't miss it too much. It would be nice, in cases like this.

Well, I get to go home now. Try to miss me.

Doing things a little out of order.

I felt like I needed a little shake-up in my routine, so I decided to do my morning Info SH surfing a touch out of order. Sure, I did my fantasy hockey and e-mail right away, but instead of coming here and babbling, I went ahead and did the crossword, read the Onion, quickly caught up on a couple blogs I read, then I came here.

All in all, I didn't really make a difference.

I have noticed an odd behavior of mine, in that I'm needing more and more sleep lately. I must not be getting the good sleep I usually strive for. Last night, I guess, could be considered to be a special case. I did, after all, shovel the sidewalk around my building. That took an hour(honestly, I really miss working outside), and really wore me out. So did the 3 beers I awarded myself for doing such a good job. That, probably more than anything else, contributed to my early bedtime.

Alright. I think I'll get some Tetris in.

Already burned out.

Don't worry. The job's going just fine. I just can't bear another minute of playing Tetris online. It's just too boring. So's Frogger.

I know, I know. Dave, you shouldn't complain. You've got a great job.

It's true. I do. I love it. Except for stupid questions, which are, of course, a dime a dozen around here. Today's favorite quote:

"Hold on, let me put on my glasses."

I, personally, try to do as much as possible wearing my glasses. That's because I need them to see. Mind you, my eyesight isn't too bad, I technically could run a computer without them, but I still need them to read, ya know, that astigmatism business.

Today's second favorite line:

"Tax Support?"
"No, Tech Support."
"I've got a 1099 that I have a question on."
"Sir, you've reached Technical Support. I can't answer questions on 1099 forms."

This went on for several minutes, I didn't bother to do the whole conversation. It would have been pedantic. Eventually, he got mad because he "kept getting transferred." I was the only person he had spoken to.

So, before my blog winds up becoming a dumping ground for tech support horror stories, I'm going to find something in the news that's funny.

Something like this, about England's toughest pub. Or so-called toughest pub. Or this, which clearly demonstrates what happens on a slow news day in Omaha.

I may be over-qualified to become a judge...

But that doesn't mean I don't want the opportunity. Check out the bartender Olympics, held in one of the few states where it is actually legal to drink and drive. Then again, if you've been there, there's really not much else to do.

Any place where I see a casino in a strip mall is bound to make me want to lash out. Take that Hollywood. You're back to #2.

How can we sleep while our arse is burning?

Thanks to Wendy for finding this.

Myself and my co-workers enjoyed it.

I'm giving you a no-honk guarantee.

At least, I'm not going to be tugging at your heartstrings today. I'm not in the mood.

I spent the night on the couch last night, happily watching TV while my brain melted. I needed such a night. I was tired.

The really, really good news is there was absolutely no heartburn this morning. No waking up at 3:30 or stuff like that. So, do you think it stemmed from not eating spicy foods last night, or not partaking in a beer?

Discuss amongst yourselves.

I apologize, as I seem to be having a Mike Myers morning. It's a little odd. What's next, making references to the Cat in the Hat? I, being the weird ass that I am, prefer the original book.

This is going to lead into a rant. I can feel it coming.

So, it took me until the 49th link on google to get the link to the book. This really pissed me off. Is it always necessary for a person's childhood to become so shallow and be replaced by the newest, latest thing? I mean, what's next, Hollywood? Paris Hilton plays Scout in the all-new To Kill a Mockingbird? Angelina Jolie is Mary Poppins? How about Madonna as Eva Peron? Oh, sorry, that's already happened.

Join me, my friends, on the Oscar day, in not giving a crap. Try it on for size. It'll feel good.

Le Tour De Farms

I know I've already blogged once about it, but my 2004 MS Tour de Farms Website is up already, and it's taking donations.

Some kind co-workers of my best friend have already started donating. To them, I say thank you.

You guys kick ass.

So, because I feel like writing, here's the story of how I decided to do this ride:

I was at work on a Wednesday, in an apartment building on Diversey. It was really cold out, at least relative to late fall, so I was bundled up in my big work jacket with an extra sweatshirt underneath. I was walking up the back stairs when my cell phone rang. Being leery of receiving calls during the day(and half expecting it to be my boss calling) I was a little surprised that my best friend was calling from her cell, instead of her work number. I answered the phone, and I had a chill. I knew there was something wrong, and that there was something important that day that she had the day off from work: she had another appointment.

She was calm, almost stoic when she spoke. The conversation started the same way 99% of our conversations start "hey." I answered the same. She asked how late I was working. I wasn't sure, but I felt something was up, so I pressed. She told me the diagnosis. I felt really, really cold. I had literally spent months denying that it was anything too serious. They weren't sure, after all. Test after test after MRI after MRI, and this was the news. After the initial panic, I started to realize something significantly more serious- I had absolutely no fucking clue as to what MS was. This was the scary part, because I knew nothing, and I don't like to feel like I'm stupid. I knew that MS had no cure, but I didn't know how it was going to effect her, I had no idea what she was in for.

She wanted to meet for drinks. I said that was fine, but that I was going to go home first and read up on the MS website. I read about the disease, the symptoms, and finally, the MS 150 Tour de Farms Bike Ride. I printed some material out, so we could read it at the bar.

We met. We hugged. She was already showing incredible strength. We sat down. I told her I was going to do the ride this year and every year until I can't ride anymore. Hopefully, that'll be a long time. Then, we drank and drank and drank.

She started her injections a week later. These things are horrible, self-administered, and they screw her body up for about 12 hours after she takes them. She's not showing too many symptoms yet, but they're coming. She, however, is strong and isn't taking shit from this disease. If they find a cure, and I hope they do, she'll be one of those people who beat it, I know she will.

That's the story.

It's good to be the king.

Check out this story about how the Catholic Church is addressing the problems within itself.

It's damn good to be the king.

Thank ya kindly!

Of all the ways to say thank you, this is by far my favorite.

And a customer just said it to me. I was happy as can be.

It truly is the little things in life that make the difference in a day.

Rockin' in the TSA

As a footnote to the previous post, this is where part of that deficit pays for.

Try not to giggle.

It's a busy morning!

I've accomplished a couple good things this morning. I wrote another pub quiz round. I'm writing another between phone calls. I'm having too much fun with that.

I've also read up on our deficit, and how generations will be paying for present-day mistakes. I don't want to get up on a soapbox or anything, but it's getting a little out of hand here, folks. I don't pay that close of attention to politics, but maybe it's time we all started getting our noses in there.

Just a thought, one of many, on this fine snowy Chicago morning.

Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me?

I made the poor decision this morning to wear nice shoes instead of boots. Little did I know that it had snowed all last night. I wasn't too happy with that.

That's what happens when you don't listen to the news when it's on. I was even on weather.com this morning.

Sometimes, being stubborn is a very bad thing.

Heartburn

More and more lately it seems that I don't need an alarm clock. My heartburn wakes me up at least 2 hours before I have to get up. This morning, it was only about an hour early.

I spent a good half hour staring at the ceiling before I got up. Not that that helps.

Anyways. I'm going to get to my ironing and get today started, just so I don't have to feel rushed later.

Work, work, work.

I'm putting up a redirector page for people to go to for information on my MS Ride.

I, despite being the immense computer geek that I am, am not terribly good at web programming. Want me to whip up a quick program to calculate your payroll or whatever, no problem. Want me to put together a web page with 4 links on it, and I'm screwed.

So it goes.

My cat is invariably cute.

This morning, she was spooning with me. That may sound vaguely creepy, but it's not. She just likes to be warm, and I'm the warm thing that gives her food and attention. I think it makes her feel human. I always laugh when I wake up and she's plastered along my chest. It's funny.

Anyways, I'm awake way too early, and I've got things to do, so I guess that's ok. No rest for the wicked and all that.

Where I come from, that's a metaphor for masturbation.

That's one of my all-time favorite Dave lines. It was first said after listening to two co-workers talking about a song when one said "it sounds like kicking a duck." I replied with the title, and made my friend S. and my friend G. laugh their asses off. I was very proud.

So, when Joey posted Smack the Pingu to his blog, I just about peed myself with giggles.

I needed a little levity after being so serious on my last post.

On a serious note...

My web page for the MS Ride has been finalized enough for my taste. A lot of you are going to receive an e-mail from me in the next week or so, asking for your donation. As I've explained before, I'm not that good at asking for money. I don't like it. And I apologize to those of you who are going to receive multiple messages from me, as that's pretty well unavoidable. Again, I'm sorry.

This cause is something that has become extremely important to me, and I appreciate each and every penny people contribute. Please pass the word on to whomever you feel would like to help out.

Thanks to everyone who helps.

WTF?

It's an acronym. Figure it out.

While you're at it, explain this to me.

It's a sad, sad, crazy world.

I'm a bad, bad boy.

I decided, despite all conventional wisdom, to go out last night. It's wasn't anything fancy, I just went to Zanie's to see a couple rather funny comedians. Best joke goes to Chad Daniels, on why he doesn't like traveling in the south:

"I get a lot of guys who think my last name is the same as a certain whiskey. They're always hootin' and hollerin' about it, until I explain that there's no relation, Jack Daniel's has an apostrophe in it. Then they get all quiet, and mutter, 'you mean like a follower of Jesus?' I always say yes, just like that. What's ironic about it is, apostles gave up all their possessions to follow Christ, and an apostrophe's main job is to express possession. [the crowd laughs] Every time I tell that joke, an English teacher gets their wings."

The headliner was Adam Ferrara, who heard my friend J. laughing uproariously, thought he was a woman(J. is a very gay man), and ran a 5 minute long conversation with him before realizing that she was actually a he. My table was in tears laughing. It was special. It was funny. My sides hurt.

So, besides not being able to find the second on my $20 bills, I'm in an ok mood this morning. Sleep deprivation is good for that(I was up way past my bedtime last night, hanging out with comics).

Friday Five

At this moment, what is your favorite...

1. ...song?
I Was in the House When the House Burned Down by Warren Zevon

2. ...food?
Got a hankering for some tacos, but then again, I always have a hankerin' for some tacos.

3. ...tv show?
Um, Simpsons, just like any other day.

4. ...scent?
Single Malt Scotch. Yummy.

5. ...quote?
"Son, I don't know you well enough to miss you when you're gone."
John R. Cash

What's the deal with credit card companies?

I've gotten 4 offers, 2 even from the same company, in the last 5 days!

Is this some kind of sign from the credit fates?

What the hell?

Huh?

Emoticons & Texas.

Did you know that Texan school children say a separate pledge? I don't know if it's a universally Texan thing, or if it's just certain schools, but wow. I had never heard of that, and I've known a fair share of Texans. I think someone might be pulling my chain.

Emoticons are getting more and more annoying to me. Sure, they're funny and cute for a bit, but I've never used them, at least not the new-fangled animated ones. They're showing up as popups and as banner ads and all that crap.

Oh yeah, another thought on the "How to tell if you're American" site, I'm noticing that there are a lot of differences between me and what I guess is meant to demonstrate your "Average Joe" American.

Should I take it as a compliment that I'm not Joe Sixpack, that I'm really Dave Twelvepack? I'm not fishing for the "You are Unique" after school special or anything, just thinking that maybe I'm a little different.

Maybe I should do my own website.

Multiculturalism

I've been reading this website for a couple hours now, reading up on cultures and all their intricies. I'd like to give credit to whoever directed me there, but I can't for the life of me remember how I got there.

It's interesting stuff.

Just thought I'd let you know.

I think I need photographic evidence.

I'm not a dog person persay, but I'm rather curious about what a labradoodle looks like. It's probably just my morbid curiousity lurching forward, but I need to know. I'm like that.

There's a bunch of other types of combinations listed. Each more scary than the previous.

This is how I spend my day. Reading.

Prepare to be both amused and offended simultaneously.

I was going to paraphrase a certain Canadian's blog entry from the other day, instead, because the nature of this is not as wholesome as dancing badgers, I thought my title might work out better.

Needless to say, I've been introduced to something funny, and I want to share it with all of you.

Turn down your speakers if you're at work. It's not horribly offensive, but I don't want anyone to get into trouble. Especially over something meant to be a joke.

Let that be my epitaph: I don't want anyone to get into trouble, especially over something meant to be a joke.

Does it get better?

Arctic blast!

Damn! Did it ever feel good to get off the train this morning. I know, conventional wisdom says that I shouldn't like the cold, but, frankly, I'm from the upper Midwest. I was born and bred in this weather, and I kinda like it. Keep in mind this is a man who usually wears shorts year round, except when the temperature is less than 18 F out.

It's a beautiful morning all and all here in Chicago. The sun is out, and I'm wide awake.

Gotta love that.

Happy as a puppy with two...

How? Why? I finished writing my 80's music round for my TBA fund raising pub quiz. In doing my research, I came across a couple things like the greatest theme song in the history of television, the greatest movie theme ever, and my favorite song from a musical.

Next up, a Seinfeld round.

This could get dangerous.

Thoughts on fundraising.

Ask anyone who knows me, I hate asking for money. I don't like it one bit. So please, dear friends and readers who I have e-mail addresses for, don't be too shocked when I start begging for funds for my MS ride. I know, the site isn't ready yet, so I haven't put up a link for it yet. I apologize. Of course, if you're really enterprising, you can find it on the site, I just don't want it popularized yet. So please, don't look.

My point is, I know a lot of people, and I've got a couple of ideas of how I want to do this. I'd like to have a pub quiz. I'll even write the questions all by my lonesome. I'll even run it. I'll do it all. Back to the point. If I know 50 people who would each contribute $25, I'll reach the goal suggested by the MS website(the minimum, in case I fail terribly, is $300). I'm considering whoring myself out, offering to wear adverts if necessary. I'm just that crazy.

I'm excited about doing the ride, and I've formed a team and all that fun stuff, but I don't like fund raising. I'm just not cut out for it.

I'm going to start writing questions now, because I'm bored, and because I've had a couple ideas I don't want to loose.

More on this later.

All the news that's fit to print.

Is it just me, or does the Onion always inject just the proper amount of bad taste into every situation?

Case in point, my horoscope(Libra) is to die for.

And the statshot? Priceless. Especially for a Vikings fan like me.

Absenteeism

For a person who has so much extra web time on his hands, I sure didn't use it terribly wisely yesterday. I mean, here I was, surfing the net all day, and I only managed one blog entry?

It's probably for the best. You guys could probably use the break from my pedantic ruminations.

Well, we'll see what I can do about it today. I've got plenty of things to say, I just don't feel like typing much this morning. I will say that I am rather pleased with myself for finally getting in synch with the CTA this morning, and hitting the train station with just enough time to dash up the stairs and right on the train. The mad dash up the stairs was the best part, got the adrenaline pumping, moved some air, got the heart rate up.

Good times.

Who needs coffee?

Not me. I was ok. Even though I fell asleep on the train down to work this morning, just walking out into the brisk Chicago morning was good enough to perk me right back up. Gotta love that.

Of course, in retrospect, and I've said it before, I remember both times I've had coffee.

Intensity in ten cities! Wow!

Wow again. It's been 15 minutes since I got to look at this. I lost my place.

My MS 150 Tour De Farms Website will be up this week I'll post a link once I got that up and running.

As a matter of fact, I'm working on it right now. I got a call from the coordinator yesterday, too. She was very nice and helpful. She told me that there's even a training program available. I might just look into that.

Oh yeah, the Wolves absolutely pasted the Manitoba Moose this weekend, 5-1. We had seats 5 rows up behind the East goal(where the Wolves defend twice). It was crazy wicked good. Of course, one of my all-time favorite players to taunt, Johan Hedberg, was sent back down from the majors. What all did we taunt him with? Well, think about it. How much fun could you have with a last name like Hedberg.

Oh yeah, hockey kicks ass.

Wha' Happen?

Yeah. I didn't write yesterday because I didn't feel like it. I felt hungover, and for good reason. Me and the friends seriously tied one on Saturday night. So yesterday, I didn't feel too good. Today, I do. I feel fine. I'm doing laundry.

Such an exciting first day off from the new job!

Wow!

Hockey.

Hockey. Hockey. Hockey hockey hockey hockey, hockey. Hockey hockey hockey hockey, hockey.

Hockey hockey hockey hockey, hockey. Hockey hockey hockey.

Hockey hockey hockey hockey, hockey hockey hockey, hockey hockey. Hockey hockey hockey hockey hockey, hockey. Hockey hockey, hockey. Hockey hockey hockey hockey, hockey.

Guess what I'm thinking about?

Go Wolves!

The Great Intoxication

I would have never called it this when I was a teenager, but I slept in til 9am today.

Wow. 9 am. Of course, I managed to avoid going to bed until around 3, so it was just like any other night, really. My cat was thrilled. That meant that she could sleep in as well. She's like that, and I think it's funny.

Today on XRT's Saturday Morning Flashback, they're covering the year I was born. There was some good music released that year. As a trivia factoid, "Tie a Yellow Ribbon 'Round the Old Oak Tree" was the #1 selling single in the US of A that year. That's kinda weird, because I can't stand that song. At least it wasn't some shitty Bee Gees song.

That's what it's all about!

It's not about putting your left foot in and all that bullshit.

I'm not going to tell you what it's all about. I don't know. Curly from City Slickers will tell you that it's just one thing. You have to find that one thing out for yourself.

Me, I don't think I've found it yet. I think I've found things that could be the thing, but I'm not sure yet.

What the hell was all this about?

I don't know, either.

The Friday Five

1. What does it say in the signature line of your emails?
Um, my personal one says DGS Enterprises, LLC. Nothing fancy. My work one has all my professional contact information and that information disclaimer.

2. Did you have a senior quote in your high school yearbook? What was it? If you haven't graduated yet, what would you like your quote to be?
I didn't really have a quote, we each had a little blurb under our pictures, though. Mine was mostly thanking friends and that stuff.

3. If you had vanity plates on your car, what would they read? If you already have them, what do they say?
Either fah q, indigo, or Schlitz. I haven't decided. Of course, I don't own a car, and would probably never have personalized plates.
4. Have you received any gifts with messages engraved upon them? What did the inscription say?
I got a painting once that had a note written in rather poor French on the back of it.

5. What would you like your epitaph to be?
Something like this would be funny, but I'll probably just have it say "I never asked to be born in the first place."

It's 5 o'clock in the morning. This calls for hashish.

That was the funniest line in the play last night. Probably the only one I laughed at. I was bored. This doesn't surprise anyone- I am not a fan of live theatre. I was ruined in high school and college by dating one too many people who worked in theatre. I can't help it, theatre people and I have some strange attraction going on. Even now. It's strange.

I saw one of the tenants of a building I used to work in, though. That was kinda cool. And there was full frontal nudity. That's always a plus.

The funniest part of the whole situation is that I had spent some time yesterday afternoon contemplating the fact that I am probably too scientific to place any faith in religion. It's just not in my nature. It doesn't happen. The play was about a devout baptist who has a crisis of faith, runs from Nebraska to London, and finds himself and his faith(at least he recovers part of it.

Me, I've never really had a faith in anything, I suppose when I was younger I believed in something, I'm not sure it could be categorized, but it's definitely gone now. Oh well. So it goes. I don't miss it, and it doesn't miss me. I can still live a relatively moral life without having people tell me about how bad I am because of some set of rules from too long ago.

Duck, my two cents are flying right at ya.

I'm going to the theatre.

For those who know me well enough, you're probably wondering how the hell your jaw managed to drop so low.

My friend has an extra ticket that she got for free. She needs someone to go with her, and no one else will. I don't even know what I'm seeing.

Yikes.

I had something to say...

It was here. I had it. I was all ready to share it. It had nothing to do with urination.

Damn.

I'm sure it'll come back later.

I hope.

Santa, Satan, same five letters, they both have beards and wear red, do you ever see them together?

I've already blogged about how I don't have any christmas spirit. I just found this jem explaining the physics of "Santa's visits."

It reminds me of a night about 5 years ago, when I was unemployed and I was up late watching Nova when I decided to work out the odds of choosing the actual right religion. I may have blogged it before, it's pretty good.

I don't think I'll do it right now, though.

It's a damn damn damn damn damn damn damn good feeling!

It's the first paycheck. The first one in, well, about 2 months.

Hot damn, I feel good.

Hot damn.

I got nothing else, really.

Hot damn.

Oh, to be solvent again!

Hot damn.

It's the one with the wet ass...

Jake Johannsen was pretty damn funny last night. I really enjoyed his bits. He did a nice, long set that kept me laughing. This morning's title is taken directly from his work. He was talking(albeit trite) about putting the seat down(and you all know what I'm talking about). He said that one of the differences between men and women is that men 'check the runway before a landing' and that the person who is at fault when there is a splashdown is the one with the wet ass.

I thought it was funny. He's also a very nice guy. He was pleasant to talk to, very friendly.

Of course, his act, along with Joey's recent antics, have inspired me to share the somewhat hilarious, untellable pee story that I have. I tend to be a little graphic, so please, don't read it if you're not comfortable with that, please, read Garfield or some shit like that.

Let's set the way-back machine to Halloween 1998. I'm living in a crappy apartment in Ft. Green, Brooklyn, working for a soulless company for going on 10 years, and Wendy and I are going to a party at my former boss' apartment. We didn't really dress up, she pretended to be an employee of my company(at the time she was working for their direct competition), and I went as my superhero alter-ego, Velveetaman. We had a lovely time. Plenty to drink, I believe there was even some dancing. It was great, but it was time to go home. We collected ourselves and left to go find the subway. This is where things went totally wrong. We were mildly altered, and couldn't find the damn subway. We wandered around Manhattan, having given up on the subway, trying to find a cab to take us back to Brooklyn. When we finally did, another woman hailed it simultaneously. She was kind enough to share it with us, but got in a fight with the cabbie because he wouldn't take her deeper into Greenwich Village, which was clogged with the big parade. She leaves the cab, and we head for the Manhattan Bridge into Brooklyn. Right about now in this story is when I start to feel the pressure of all the beer I drank on my bladder. I figure it's no big deal, as it's not a very long drive back to my apartment. Of course, on Halloween, there's a shitload of traffic. The bridge is completely packed with cars, and my predicament is getting worse and worse. Wendy, being the kind soul that she is, was concerned as I did a little I-gotta-pee dance while sitting in the cab. I started to become desperate. I had to go, and I had to go bad. She held my hand, and I damn near broke it, I was squeezing it so hard. I started seeing how far down I could roll the window, just in case I had to whip it out and piss out the window. I was going crazy. We spent what felt like an hour on the bridge before we finally entered Brooklyn. Fortunately for me, I didn't live far from Manhattan, so we were thankfully on my street within just a couple minutes after exiting the bridge. When we stopped in front of my apartment, I said something along the line of "you've got this, right?" I jumped out of the cab, ran to the other side of a parked van, and peed for what felt like 5 minutes(I'm sure it was a solid 90 seconds of urination, but I could be wrong). I have never felt so relieved in my life, and it showed, especially in puddle form. Wendy, dear that she is, waited patiently for me to finish, and when I did, I gave her a very stern, yet still drunk look and said "let us never speak of this again."

We, of course, tell this story whenever we're together, and it's been told to various people close to us on several occasions. We're not very good at not talking about it. We're funny that way. What do you expect from people born on the same day, but a year apart?

Third car, First door.

If there's anything I've learned aobut the Brown Line, it's that the 3rd car, first door almost always stops right at the top of the stairs at Irving Park, which is my stop.

I'm tired. My last call today really drained me. Really drained me.

Time for Simpsons. I could use a nap, too.

My god, it's full of stars, part II: Eclectic Boogaloo

Ok, that line is in the book, but not the film version of 2001.

I AM that much of a geek to have read it, by the way.

"My god, it's full of stars."

Well, seems like GW might be doing something I actually agree with. I know, I know, it was bound to happen sometime or another, but I'm just surprised that he had the presence of mind to think this was a good idea. Of course, it's probably just some advisor telling him that he should do this, in which case I should say that I am in agreement with that person, not GW(let's face it, this is the much, much more likely case).

Here's the article. The title quote is from this movie, in case you're not up to speed. Of course, I can't find a reference to that line in that movie's memorable quotes, but I found it listed on this one. I seem to remember that being in the first movie. I'll have to double check sometime when I actually care.

End all be all, I'm excited to think that we're planning on having a lunar base in my lifetime. In about 11 years or so, was what they said in the article.

Don't worry kids, I'm still not pro-Bush, not in the slightest. I am pro-science, though.

This'll Take About an Hour

I'm supposed to go to Zanie's tonight to see some comedy. How can a person as destitute as I afford to do such a thing? Well, it's good to have friends in high places, especially when they have access to booze.

So, I'm reading about the headliner for tonight, a Mr. Jake Johannsen, and I noticed that in one of the paragraphs in his little show blurb mentions the name of his old show This'll Take About an Hour(sorry, there's no link I can find), three times. Once in each sentence in the paragraph. Now, I'm not sure who wrote it, it might be my friend who works there(I hope she's not reading this), but isn't that a little bit of shameless self-promotion? Redundant, maybe?

All I can think of right now is that line from the Simpsons, 'I'm in television. It's my job to be repetitive. My job is to be repetitive. My job.' Well, something along those lines anyways.

It's funny, you know.

I'm all for an eye for an eye, especially if you can pull it off subtly, which is my favorite way of doing things. So, when I came across this article, I had to laugh. Of course, it also marks pretty much the end of my surfing that particular site, as I've read just about everything on there. At least everything I'm interested in.

Now I don't have anyone to play with. I need a new site. Anyone got one for me?

Oh my. I forgot that it's Wednesday. That means it's finally time for a new Onion!

Hot damn!

The Real Scariest Part of My Commute

It isn't the scary/helpful guy. It's the bridge.

For those who don't know, Chicago's Loop is bordered to the North and West by the Chicago River, which is primarily used by pleasure boaters, but sometimes for actual shipping type traffic as well. So, each and every major street over the Chicago River is required to have a drawbridge over it. Part of my commute(the walking from the train to my office part) is over the South Branch of the Chicago River at Jackson Street.

What's the point of this entry? Well, I am afraid of heights. I don't think I used to be, but the older I get, the more I seem to be. It's odd. I'm also not a very good swimmer, so you can imagine my moderately well self-contained panic when I'm walking over the drawbridge coupling and a couple huge trucks go over at the same time, causing the bridge to lurch quite noticeably.

My heart raced a bit, my eyes undoubtedly went rather wide, and I got over it.

Dammit!

I had it in my head to do a whole post about my first 100 days being 30, a kind of State-of-the-Dave address to myself, and, well, you guys too(since you seemed to care about me aging in the first place).

So, here goes, a day late, and a dollar short:

100 days later...

Careerwise:
Thanks to an injury to my shoulder, the no-so-grown-up job of working construction came to an abrupt halt. No more, no more. Since then, after 5 weeks of idly wishing I had a decent job, I finally scored a good gig. That's right, I've gone back to the corporate world, wearing a tie and everything. It's fun. I like it. I feel so grown up now.

Schoolwise:
It was rough, but I finished senior project in October. I even did fairly well in it, so I feel I can be proud about it. I decided(thankfully) to take a term off, mostly due a problem with my school's bureaucracy which couldn't have been solved in time. I start up again beginning in March.

Dating/Love life:
Well, it's been a weird time. I meet people, as I've stated before, and then stop thinking about them, or just ignore their calls. I'm funny that way. I'm going to try to change, as just random encounters with people, while being fun and all, do not help me achieve any goals.

Home life:
Well, with people dieing, there's been a few funerals. There's also been a wedding or two. The apartment is a mess, as always, but it's getting better. Slowly. The cat's happy, I'm happy, and the roommate is happy. Now, if we just had a dishwasher...

On coping with turning 30:
It was fairly anticlimactic. I was hoping for something cataclysmal to happen, some major change. Nope. Nothing really new. The bones still creak, the muscles still whine. I still need glasses. I still have no hair. I guess nothing really changed, and that seemed to turn it into a let-down.

General:
Well, I've been losing weight, which comes with not riding anymore, as well as not eating as much any more, as well as not working out for 7-8 hours a day for your job. I'm not getting flabby, mind you, but I'm still a hefty 190 pounds, at 5'9". I'm emotionally stable and becoming more and more no-nonsense every day(this could be a bad thing, though). I'm happy. For the first time in a long time, I can say that with almost no exception, I am happy. It's an odd thing. I'm not complaining, I'm just not used to it.

Anyways, that's pretty much what's going on in my head, 101 days after my birthday. Seems like it's been forever.

A long, long time ago...

Well, I had something I wanted to talk about, but it went running from my head right after I typed the title. At that point, I got the opening line to American Pie stuck in my head(I'd post a link to the lyrics, but for some reason it's not working, most sites don't have a listing for Don McLean, and I simply refuse to put up Madonna lyrics).

Anyways, I'm picturing myself taking a trip to the Hockey Hall of Fame. Why? Well, not surprising, hockey is on the brain today. It's been on the brain a lot lately. I'm going to the Wolves Game on Saturday, then to a kick-ass party, so maybe I'll be better after that. I should be much happier by then. We'll see how it goes.

Here's that damn link to the American Pie lyrics. Turns out you can do a whole lot on this Info S-H. Maybe searching for the artist is the move from now on.

There's this story that Wendy's new boyfriend posted recently about peeing "Joey + Wendy" in the snow behind his practice space. Now, there's a chance that the old Dave & Wendy pee story might get leaked(forgive the term) to the public. It's not gross or anything, it's just funny, and not nearly as romantic as his story actually is.

Now, because I've been so link happy, I'm going to cut myself short. You've got enough to read for now, dear reader.

Just a side note before I stop, the spell checker didn't know what to do with the word 'peeing' and spit back 'penis' as a possible replacement. There's comedy in there somewhere.

I just can't seem to find it.

What did I lose? Well, I've never really settled on a template for the good ol' blog here. I've been experimenting for the past couple days, and I just can't find one that I like. So, here we are, back with good ol' bluebird, the classic look for Logan's Dave.

Maybe, one of these days, I'll sit down and figure out the HTML and do one all on my own. That would be cool. Maybe I'll try to get a whole Logan's Run type theme going, spruce it up all 1976 style. Too bad I didn't think of that earlier, I could have uploaded the crystal. That would have been totally ghetto fabulous.

The big problem is, I've got more JAVAScript training than HTML. I'll bet I can pick it up pretty fast, though.

No Whammies!

When I was younger, one of my all-time favorite shows was Press Your Luck. It was fun. It had whammies, which this contestant, which I can't remember at all, avoided for quite some time, and scored some serious points. It's funny. Check out the first link for a computer version of the game.

Me, I know I'll be playing that into the wee hours of the night. That's how much of a geek I am.

What an easy train ride.

#1- no crazy guy concerned about everyone's safety at the top of his lungs.
#2- a quick ride without the usual waiting for signals at Lake Street(where 4 train lines use the same intersection).
#3- no one sat next to me, the train was that empty.

On the whole, good news all around. I was happy, at least as happy as I can be when I'm riding the train at 6:30 in the morning.

Wow. I just got this window back open. It's been sitting here for a good half hour.

Oh well. Here you are.

Here's a town I'd like directions to.

This, my friends, almost made me pee my pants.

I'm not kidding.

I have to share this funny.

It's from a Canadian TV show, and it's downright funny.

I should preface this with the fact that I once lived in Canada. Why, I don't know. It just seemed important.

Seems like more of a postscript, all of the sudden.

So, I thought I'd experiment.

Are the colors too ugly? I haven't decided. I just got sick of looking at it the way it was.

Things have slowed down a bit. I've been pensive. Mostly because it sure is a pain in the ass to eat your pb & j's when the phone won't stop fuckin' ringing.

Oh well. I'm going back to my latest addiction, reading concert riders for various bands. Hey. It's something. These guys are weird mofo's.

Hot damn!

The best part about really absurdly busy days is that time just frickin' flies by.

So, it's busy. So, I'm busy. So, I'm not really ruminating much. Sorry for the boring, pointless entry.

So there.

I see sick people, or the scary guy on the train part III, or trial by fire, or why I kick ass:

Scary guy was on the train again this morning. I've been trying to take different trains so I don't see/hear him, but he's there. Today he was yelling at someone about how they could be killed if the train lurches. He's helpful in his own mind, but scary to me(and probably everyone else around, too).

So, I'm walking to work this morning and I get to thinking, "gee, I sure think it would be a good idea if W(my co-worker) had my cell phone # so if he's going to be sick, he can call me and get me in here early." Sure enough, W is sick today.

Top it off: B, another co-worker, couldn't come in today, either. I'm here alone. Sink or swim, Dave, sink or swim.

Oh yeah. I kick ass because I have been able to help a couple people this morning, I've cleaned out the voicemail box three times, and I haven't lost my cool.

Of course, whether or not my deodorant lasts is another thing. Thankfully, the calls have dwindled. I could be getting a reprieve.

Don't cry for me, Blogspheretina!

Cruel and unusual?

It's typically regarded as a good thing, if you wake up before your alarm in the morning. It means that you've adjusted to your sleep schedule and finally gotten your bedtime right.

Sadly, when I wake up more than 40 minutes before my alarm? Well, that's just mean.

I am getting stuff done, though. Early morning chores, as it were.

I'll crash later, but now it's golden!

New desk setup.

It's sometimes the little things that make a big deal. I couldn't find the port my joystick is supposed to be plugged into yesterday. All I wanted to do was play some x-wing fighter, and I couldn't get the damn thing to work.

2 hours later, after taking my desk completely down and rearranging my computer setup, well, I'm happier now.

That's all. I'm going to tackle the kitchen next. Then, I think I'm headed to the laundrymat. It's time. Past time, actually.

Life's too short to make things complicated.

My friend said this to me last night.

She's right. Completely right.

At the time, we were talking about relationships, and the fact that I've been avoiding them for some time now. I got to thinking about this. I really have been avoiding things. Even when I meet someone new, I tend to pull back. I don't see them as someone permanent or even temporary. I don't trust easily anymore.

This is not a good thing, not for a 30-year old who, get this, actually wants to settle down. My 20's were too exciting. I'm done now. Time for the next stage of my life. But, if I'm always hiding away from people, how am I going to get there?

Answer: Adopt the new mantra- life's too short to make things complicated.

The great experiment.

I think it would be an interesting athropological and psychological experiment if I started just acting absolutely insane on my commutes.

I keep seeing seemingly normal people, dressed nice, well groomed, et al, but for some reason or another, they scream, yell, and talk to themselves on the commute. I keep thinking that they had the same idea: if I act completely insane on the train, maybe, if I'm convincing enough, people won't sit next to me.

Just a thought.

Friday Five, Early Edition

Early how? The questions haven't been posted yet. Let's see how my answers line up:

1. Asparagus, squash, and brussel sprouts.

2. Brett Farve in There's Something About Mary.

3. European Money. What's going on with that?

4. Definitely a Chevy Nova. Maybe a Ford Taurus, but a Chevy Nova for sure.

5. Green Apple Jolly Ranchers. No way are those M & M's right.

So, this is a sort of tribute to Johnny Carson, who I never watched because I simply didn't like him, but we'll see how funny that is when the questions come out.

Funny ha-ha or funny sarcastic?

Art or Not?

It's a quote from who-the-hell-knows-where, I've read it in Kurt Vonnegut's Timequake, as a question asked of the great author by his older brother.

Me, I'm asking, because I've been reading about the Bloggies, the blogsphere's answer to the question "why don't we have an award?"

Can I be nominated? Well, yes, technically. I could possibly be nominated to the following categories:
weblog of the year
best-kept-secret blog
best American blog
best topical blog
best humorous blog(if you consider me turning 30 to be humorous)
best new weblog

Now, of course, I ask the bold, ego-exposing question: Art or not? Should I be nominated? Probably not. I see a lot of other blogs out there where people actually put work into them. I can't be bothered. Call me lazy. I'm also not about to re-start the damn thing on my own webpage. I started this thing to count down the days, emotions, and thoughts before I turned 30. Now, some 97 days and countless pointless entries later, what am I trying to say? Frankly, a lot of it was me bitching about things I got angry about, companies that pissed me off, drivers that cut me off, yadda, yadda, yadda. Back before I turned 30, the title and theme seemed to make sense, now, well, I'm lost, my dear readers(all three of you).

Ah well, it's not that important. I'm not going to be hurt if I'm not nominated. I'd probably get mad if I had to go accept an award, anyways. Austin, TX is notoriously busy during the SXSW festival, and I don't know who I would take as my date.

Quandary.

The newest movie made about what I consider to be the greatest moment in sports history, Miracle, comes out in 28 days. What's the issue? Oh, well it's a simple one. The movie is made by Disney. Call me a grumpy old man, call me a jerk, call me an asshole, call me what you will, but I loathe Disney. Especially their movies, with the exception of Tron(all computer programmers that I know love this movie, it's an unwritten law, I believe), and, solely for the soundtrack, Fantasia. Fortunately for me, there's nothing on that soundtrack which can't be found in even the most mediocre classical record department.

Can a person as crazy as myself possibly sit though the watered-down version of the greatest U.S. hockey victory ever? Even ESPN.com(I might add that, if memory serves, Disney is a parent company to ESPN) has it in a washed down version(see paragraph 7). Whereas, in the documentary Do You Believe in Miracles, Mike Eruzione quotes Herb Brooks as saying "...you'll take it to your fucking graves."

I watched the trailer. I know most trailers don't have any swearing in them, but Herb Brooks wasn't exactly pristine in his speech. If I'm gonna see a true story, I want the truth to be there. I want the blood, the guts, the gore, and the cursing. Don't short-change my memory, Disney. I ain't afraid of you.

What a fun morning.

My dreams are getting stranger and stranger. At least this week they are.

Not to mention that I'm so paranoid about sleeping in on my new job that I'm waking up in a panic at 4:15 in the morning. I don't really have to wake up until about 5:20. It's still weird, though.

Today promises to be a good day. At least, that what I made it promise when I woke up this morning.

My utopian solution to wars.

Ok. I never thought this would actually make a spotlight or anything like that(if you consider my humble little corner of cyberspace to be a spotlight), but here's something I came up with to combat two problems in the world: being out of shape and war.

So, instead of hauling off and shooting at each other, why not have a global governing body such as the U.N., when it comes time for two tribes to go to war, have a giant lottery cage with the names of each and every sport on them. The two countries will then engage in a best of 7 series of games in that sport. The winner obviously wins, the loser complies to a set of pre-determined conditions.

It keeps all countries playing all kinds of sports, staving off obesity(yes, I know in most countries it's not the big a problem, but it might just work), and it keeps bullets and grenades and tanks on the shelf.

Now, the disclaimer. I was, if memory serves, rather young and particularly drunk when I first came up with this idea. Call me a hippie, call me a jock, just stop calling me Shirley.

Now, I'm going to do something more productive.

Yet another argument for abolishing zero tolerance:

This man didn't deserve this treatment.

I don't really support wars. To quote Yoda, "wars not make one great."

I do read a lot of Kurt Vonnegut's novels, and in case you didn't know, he was taken prisoner by the Germans in WW II, and survived one of the most appalling acts in the U.S. Air Force's history. He says pretty much the same thing. And he's not even 900 years old, much less a Jedi Master.

What the hell am I actually trying to say? Well, that even though I don't support wars, I'm not going to spit on a veteran or think less of a person who has served. Especially those who were drafted. They didn't even have a choice. So I feel bad, that a person who fought so bravely and put his life on the line so I could stay here and surf the IS-H all day and watch the Simpsons every night gets hassled by one of the most preposterous organizations, the TSA.

I like to travel. I like to fly. I hate going through security.

Now, before I start sounding like a 4th-rate stand-up comedian with the clap, check out this link, for a reason to respect the history and traditions of this ever-so-fucked-up country.

P.S. I'm still not sure what the hell I was trying to say here. I'll figure it out tomorrow.

Busy mornings.

Gotta love 'em. It's almost time for lunch, at least, in my stranger than fiction world of working at 7am.

Wow.

One of the greatest nights of my life.

Ok. I'm not calling it top ten or anything, but I was in a very, very, very good mood last night.

What made me so happy? In a word, well, two actually, hockey and tacos. Those of you who were hoping for some sordid sex scandal are going to be disappointed. Sorry about that.

No, I was over at my dear friend's house, where I made her tacos, which are yummy at all times, then proceeded to watch not just my beloved Chicago Wolves, but my beloved Minnesota Wild as well. Both teams beat their opponents, 5-0 and 7-4, respectively.

I was immensely happy. Needless to say, I'm not used to being so happy.

What, with the new job and all, two hockey victories, and tacos, what's to be upset about?

Not much. Not much at all.

What the?

My Classic Movie is The Godfather? Huh?

Find yours here.

Upgraded status.

I'm presently trying to become a contributing worker. Answering tech calls is sometimes a dangerous thing. Especially if you haven't done it for a while. Like me.

Oh well. It's back in the saddle, productive and all that.

Damn, am I looking forward to a beer after work.

Oy.

Do wrong by my friends, and I will smite thee.

After reading about my dear friend Wendy's woes in dealing with Banff Canmore Airport Taxi(and apologies, just in case, if I have connected to the wrong link), I have taken it upon myself to spread more anger on her behalf. Not that she needs the help, I just want there to be as much negative press out there as possible, even if it's just my little blog doing the slamming.

From her account and from their website, I can tell them the following changes I would make in their business plan:

#1- Don't say you're going to offer reliable 24-hour "no shuttle, no strangers" service, if you're going to flunk out on it.
#2- Customer service and honesty are hand in hand. If you're going to be late, tell the customer. Offer alternatives- some of the nicest people I've ever dealt with didn't actually sell me something, mostly because they were out of it, but because they directed me to a place that COULD help me.
#3- Never make a person like me mad. I'm just too much of an asshole, and I like to tell others about crappy service.

Now, I would like to share the following excerpt:

Why go with a Banff Shuttle that offers scheduled transfers between the Calgary International Airport Banff or Canmore when you can have Private service for the same or less Money than a scheduled Airport Shuttle.No waiting for Hours with our Service.

I left it exactly as it appears on their site, with the exception that I bolded the sentence that makes me angriest. Leaving people out in the cold is inexcusable. You're a bunch of idiots.

You'll probably notice the grammatical error of no space before the "no waiting hours..." sentence, as well. They did it at least twice on their site. Let's not even talk about the seemingly random capitalization.

I am not being paid to proofread for them. I refuse.

Anyways. I don't like it when my friends are screwed. I really don't like it when they're cold, either. A pox on your house, Banff Canmore Airport Taxi.

I have inherited a sick morbidity from my ancestors.

I am forever fascinated with the end of the world. It's in a bunch of the movies and books that I like. I've never adequately explored the reasons behind it.

Today, I'm cruising along the info super H when I come across a story about a 30-year old morning news show hostess who shot herself on air in 1974. In researching this bizarre action, I came across this site, with info on others who have died onstage. Not to mention, this unique article that I had never heard about. And this one, too.

I'm starting to realize that I should spend less time on the internet. I could find out all kinds of stuff here that's going to freak me out.

More on that later. Eerie.

A late start, the Metra fiasco, and general malaise.

I slept in this morning. This is pretty amazing, considering.

Ok. It's not like I was asleep until 10:30 or something(obviously), but I didn't wake up at 5:30, like I'm supposed to. I didn't worry, thought, because my back-up plan is in place. Instead of taking the slow, tedious CTA, I can catch the more expensive, faster, and cleaner Metra.

Unfortunately, I had to wait for a train for a lot longer than anticipated. I was still late to work.

Ergo, Logan's Dave has fallen in to a slight malaise.

Things are, however, looking up.

Be good.

Wait, wait, wait.

Now, this is important.

Good stuff to know.

Love North American Style

One of my absolute favorite people, Wendy, is rather smitten with her new beau, Joey. Her most recent post made me happy. I smile when she smiles. Just ask around.

An international romance!

Oh happy!

Because Friendster just wasn't enough...

An online commmunity I barely use, I decided to join up with it's bastard cousin, Myspace.

See if you can find Chicago's Angriest man. Ok. Don't try too hard. It's not that exciting.

At least, I don't think it is.

A funny little comparison.

Seems to me that the simulated trading I'm doing is an awful lot like Dope Wars. The biggest difference is instead of trading LSD and PCP, I'm trading corn, pork bellies, and crude oil.

Fun, fun, fun!

I know, I know, I'm oversimplifying. I'm having fun, though, ok?

That Scary Guy and Strange Dreams

That scary guy was on the train again this morning. He sounds like he's trying to help people, but you can tell by the way that he tries to help people, that he's stark raving mad.

And then, strange dreams. I'll admit that I've been changing my sleep habits lately(obviously, with the new job and all), but I've never had a dream like this. It's too scary to want to talk about. Not a nightmare in any sense, but just scary in how things happened.

Yipes.

Up and running!

I've finally got my e-mail and logons all in a row.

This shit is so cool.

More later.

Proof positive that young love is fleeting at best:

http://www.cnn.com/2004/SHOWBIZ/Music/01/04/britney.spears.wedding.ap/index.html

That's a shame.

Over my head.

Wow. There's a lot to learn for my new job.

Wow.

I'm on overload.

*Fizzle*

Touching me, Touching You!

I, for reasons better left to chance, have Sweet Caroline stuck in my head.

Funniest part is that I heard Cracklin' Rosie last night at dinner.

Anyways, it's Monday, time for work.

Tired of the wishy-washy.

I am. Straightforwardness is essential to dealing with me.

Why am I ranting about this today? I'm not sure.

I'm not in a bad mood, I'm in more of a cold, I hate snow mood.

Too bad I live in a city where it's presently snowing. Like crazy.

Oh well.

Tomorrow, as always, is a new day.

Something witty this way comes.

Ok. That's a flat out lie. I'm not feeling witty. I'm not feeling blogish.

My throat is sore. This damn cold just won't let go. It's starting to get on my nerves.

The upshot is that I love my new job, well, so far.

It will take a little getting used to. My poor cat was feeling so neglected. Poor her.

Me, I'm just looking forward to that first big fat paycheck.

Yummy.

Friday Five Fight Song!

What one thing are you most looking forward to . . .

1. ...today?
Um, a beer after a long day's work. Note: I AM working today!

2. ...over the next week?
Working all next week. Getting up to speed.

3. ...this year?
Perhaps, and let's hope it happens, GRADUATING COLLEGE.

4. ...over the next five years?
Maybe finally settling down with someone I love, doing the matrimonial dance, maybe, and just maybe, having a kid. Or two.

5. ...for the rest of your life?
Getting old. I think it'll be fun to see what I'm like when I'm 50. Still the wild man? A wild man anew?

MMMMMM lunch.

Sure, I don't have my keycard yet. Sure, I don't have a proper logon yet, but I've got lunch in my belly.

I am happy.

In the meantime, I am learning a great deal about the futures market.

Fascinating stuff.

Paperwerk

I've signed my name so many times this morning, it's not even funny.

I am, however, now used to writing out 2004.

Best part of my first day? I'm wearing a Misfits T-shirt under my corporate outfit.

Ha.

Logan's Employed Dave

This will probably get a whole lot more annoying, as I'll have internet access all day long.

And, we're apparently encouraged to surf the web.

This could be dangerous.

More on that later.

Cold Mountain, love, and coffee culture.

The movie, Cold Mountain, isn't really all that and a bag of chips. I know. You're all hearing about how great it is from all those idiot reviewers, but it's a little predictable for me. I don't know. Maybe it was a little too long for me as well. I have a short attention span as well. It is still a pretty good movie, don't get me wrong, but it's just not all that.

It did make me realize that there is a certain lack of affection in my life right now. I secretly await the day someone comes running up to the New Year's Eve party that I'm at and tells me "when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible." I can't help it. It's the romantic in me. Deep, deep, deep down inside me.

So long as I'm mumbling my way through this blog, I don't get coffee culture. I don't get coffee. Like I told my dad a couple weeks ago, I can remember both times I've had coffee. The first was when I was about 10. My parents were drinking coffee, and I decided I wanted to try it, too. I didn't like it. The second was when I was 19. I was at my girlfriend's house, hanging out with her roommates while she was overseas, and we made Irish coffees. I like it then, but not enough to ever want it again. So, after I'm at the movie and my companion decides she wants a coffee, I am whisked away to the local big-name coffee shop, which I refuse to name, I am again perplexed by the coffee culture. I can't tell you what part of it doesn't make sense to me, but it just doesn't jive with the Dave logic.

Not that there's anything wrong with it.

Oh well. It's about time I thought about dinner. It's about time I thought about Simpsons, which are on in a few minutes.

I just noticed that this company's website has a store locator. Seems to me like some programmer wasted his time. Here's how you find one: Step 1- go to an urban area, prefereably in economic growth. Step 2- spin in a circle. Step 3- stop spinning, and walk two blocks in that direction.

You're bound to come accross one sooner rather than later.

El Ano Nuevo

Sorry. I could put a tilde on that, but it'll sit out off to the right or left of the n. It would look funny.

Anyways. The hangover is manageable. The new year is young. The Angriest Man in Chicago kissed a boy and a girl at midnight.

It was nice.

So, my 2004 has started out just the way I would have expected it. Slow. Tomorrrow, the new job(at 7 am), then I'm going to hopefully get around to the other things I want to get done(new girlfriend, new bike, new somethingorother).

Sometime in the future, I'm going to have it all together. Promise.

For now, I just really, really want some hash browns.

Badly.