Tuesday, December 29, 2009
My dad came to visit a couple of times and that is always fun.
I coached my last baseball season for Ozzy Jr. It wasn't our best season ever, but it was one with a bunch of great kids and parents.
My oldest daughter Ashlee got a very good job doing what she was trained to do, and she is happy.
My other daughter Kelsey continues to do well in school and she has a new boyfriend that we like.
I went to brew school.
I won the random drawing at the brewing science festival here in town.
I've had good renters in both my houses all year and very few maintenance calls.
I thought I would have finished my back tattoo, but no.
We got our best dog ever. And our most destructive.
So, 2010 is barely 4 days old and I have already totally screwed up hugely not once but twice. First, I tried to run some moist grain through my grain mill and tore up the main roller. I heard a lot of breweries were doing this to get a better yeild from more than one source. I guess I didn't execute properly. Second, I just realized this morning that we scheduled a vacation to Colorado this month, but we scheduled it on a week where there is no way on this planet I can take off work. Mayday!
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
No big deal, I thought. Get up at six, run to the bowling alley, pick them up, drop Jarrod off at his house, and I'm actually early for work for a change.
Wakened from a dead sleep by the phone ringing. It is dark. Ozzy Jr. is on the line. "Dad, when are you coming to get me?" Immediately, I'm thinking I have overslept. I get up, throw a pair of jeans on and a Black Sabbath tshirt and get in Mrs. Ozzy's car and start driving to pick him up. The clock in the car says 5:04. "Is that right?" I thought. Maybe I'm not late.
I get to the bowling alley and all of the kids playing inside affirm my thought that the clock in the car is correct.
"I need to pick up Martin and Nelson" I said to a woman and man cop at the desk. Mind you, I got out of bed 10 minutes before, I have an unkempt 25 day old beard, blue glasses and tattooes hanging out everywhere.
"Ok, do you have your id?", she replied. I'm pretty sure I'm being profiled at this point.
Meanwhile a kid that I coached baseball comes up and starts a conversation about next season with me.
"No, I got a call from my son and through on my clothes and didn't pick it up" was my reply to the young police lady.
"Can I see your id?" the male police echoed.
"No, I don't have it."
"Do you have your id?" he asked again.
"No, I still don't have it." I wanted to use a phrase from my old man, "boy, have you got a cricket in your ear, I said I don't have it." But I refrained.
"Then you can't pick anyone up."
"This kid that I'm not picking up can tell you who I am. The kids I'm picking up are 12 years old, they can tell you who I am. My name is on the list."
"Can't pick them up without an id."
This is what I'm thinking. You know, if I wanted to steal a kid, I am smart enough not to steal a smart mouthed 12 year old, and do you really think with 4 cop cars out front and an untold # of cops in here I'm going to kidnap a kid at FIVE FREAKING OCLOCK IN THE MORNING. My balls are big, but they aint that big.
Ok, I go home. Grab my id. Drive back the the bowling alley and get there at 5:30.
I approach the same male and female cops, "here's my id."
Over a microphone, "xxxxx Martin and Carter Nelson"
"Carter Nelson? I don't want Carter Nelson. My son is Wyatt. You said you checked my name on that sheet. There is no way my name is on a sheet for Carter Nelson. So, just because I had my id you were going to give me the wrong kid, but when I didn't have my id you wouldn't give me the right kid?"
Jr. saw me standing there joined me.
I'm not feeling good about the safety in our town.
I'm pretty sure they aren't feeling so good about me either.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Larry and Rich from the bar at the Rockwell train stop. From the first 5 minutes in “their” bar, they new my name, made me feel welcome and became my friends.
Lucie: A biochemist, Lucie had never brewed beer. She works for the parent company of Siebel analyzing yeast. She fit right in and did great in the class. Of course, she didn’t have a choice because her bosses would be looking at her grades.
Nate (above) and Wiz (lower pic, far right): Nate sat by me for our two weeks and impressed me with his knowledge of beer and other stuff. Wiz is just a fun, very cool kid that loves Chicago.
Chuey: The only black dude in the class, he sat front and center. Chuey has his own business making hats for bikers, and divided his time in Chicago by running Chuey Brand and learning about beer. I was very impressed.
Harry (beside me): Had not one, but two horrific accidents in a brewery and continued to work there with a great attitude and had a ton of knowlege about brewing.
Then there was Lyn Kruger: Siebel President. This lady knows more about the chemistry and biology beer and beer flavor and components that I will know in a couple of lifetimes. She has taught all of the tasting classes as well as the anatomy, behavior and the proper handling of yeast. She has an MS in Fermentation Microbiology. Yikes. Lyn speaks with what I would call a British accent and has a style of teaching that makes the students pay attention. Here are a few of my favorite quotes from Lyn:
- "Yes, I am flocculent, I have a protien bit sticking out"
- "If I am up here and Lucie is back there, what are the chances of us getting together and flocculating?"
- "All yeast wants to do is to get its nads back"
- "I give it enough to stuff its face full of sterol "
- Question from student: "What if you find that you have significant amounts of the precursor of diasitol after initial fermentation" Her answer, "Its a bitch."
My entire time at brewer school could not have been better. From Cady and Lupe who worked behind the scenes at the class to make everything smooth, to Jack Price whose "homestay" I found on Craigslist, and was a perfect place to study and sleep. It was worth every penny, and every minute of my time.
Friday, November 6, 2009
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Bob has been an electrician all his life and has worked at some pretty big jobs like at the Kennedy Space Center, building a nuclear power plant just to name a couple. When we work together, no matter how old I get, I am always seen by the old man as the lowly apprentice. That is fine with me, that is what makes things fun. As the lowly apprentice, I am treated with all of the insults and demoralizing comments that a young apprentice would.
When I was very young I remember someone asking my father's father why he cussed around the kids. His reply, "if you don't cuss around your kids, they'll end up cussing worse than you." Even as an elementary schooler, I thought, "Granpa, I don't see how anybody could cuss worse than you." Bob has pretty much kept with the same thinking as Bob Sr. in this particular instance, so it is an educational experience for the whole family.
The project this weekend was to put in new recessed lighting in our kitchen, wire new track lights, move the electrical from a wall that Mrs. Ozzy wants removed, install a couple new plugs, move a couple of ceiling fans, and move the overhead dining room light. It is important to mention that dad is having problems with his heart and is going to have a defibulator/pacemaker combo installed in a couple of weeks.
Here is a list of the top 10 construction quotes with my old man:
10: Bob: "You cut that wire too short, dick lick."
Me: "How many of your apprentices have you made cry?"
Bob: "Most of 'em. Some are just criers."
9: Me: "Ok, here's what I'm thinking - "
Bob: "Johnny, you tell me what you are thinking and I’ll tell you why you are wrong. (my dad calls all apprentices "Johnny" even if they are female, unless the female has large breasts, then they are "Judy" which is short for "Judy Juggernauts")
8: Me: "pull that wire back a hair."
Bob: "a public hair?" (yes, i spelled it as he said it)
7: Bob: "Don't argue with me boy, or I'll revoke your license."
6: Bob looking at a box I cut in for a plug about 5 years ago, "What kind of non union sh1t job is this?"
5: Bob: "I'm glad I'm not on a heart monitor right now."
4: Bob farts then says, "mmm nerves got the best of me."
3: Bob: "I'm going to sit here in the foreman's chair and pet the 'crotch cannibal' (a nickname he has for the large dog Icee) while I watch Johnny put this box together.
2: Ozzy Jr. after Bob has gone back to Florida while watching me work with a ceiling fan, "I'm going to call grampa and tell him to come back here 'cause Johnny can't seem to get it right.
And #1 comes after each part of the project is successfully completed: "Another job, well done by union craft."
Saturday, October 24, 2009
- 1 badge
- 3 exterior door knobs
- 1 awesome moustache magnet my daughter bought for me
- 1 grain bag for steeping
- Many shoes
- Many plastic recyclable items
- 2 pool cues
- 1 exterior door frame
- 1 big shrub in the landscaping
- 8 feet of 4" drainage pipe
- 2 slats on the front porch
- 2 dog beds
- A 2 gallon bucket
- 2 catcher's mits
- 2 bike helmets
- 1 catcher's helmet
- Multiple carpenter's pencils
...I'm too broke and depressed to list any more.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
1) Do you see everything blue through those glasses?
No, they are prescription and without them everything is blurry.
2) How much did that tattoo cost?
A lot less than your Lexus and it will last longer.
3) How can you give blood when you were just tattooed?
If you weren't tattooed in prison, under a bridge, or on a bar stool (you know who you are) you can give blood if you were just tattooed.
4) How much do you get paid for your platelets?
The Red Cross doesn't pay for any blood product. I give because there are very sick people that need something that I can give them.
5) Is that moustache for some kind of contest?
No, I just enjoy spending time twisting it. You should grow one yourself. If you are physically unable, I may let you twist mine.
6) How does your wife like the beard?
She hates it. She hates the moustache as well. Thanks for asking.
7) What kind of beer do you make?
Beer that chicks will enjoy drinking.
8) You work in audit, does that mean you a numbers guy?
I like the numbers on my pay check. If they were higher, I would like them more.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Mrs Ozzy and I enter our favorite Mexican restaraunt (The Margarita House on Lowery) yesterday for an early dinner. There were some folks at one of the tables that were in their mid to late sixties that I didn't recognize. As soon as I am in their view they begin welcoming me like I was a long lost friend. "Hey, great to see you, what happened to that moustache? We loved that moustache." As I walk towards their table I'm thinking, "I LOVE these people, but who the hell are they?" Mrs Ozzy bailed me out by introducing them as the parents and aunt of the bride at the wedding. Got it. I remember now.
So, they start talking, "We got the film in the cameras developed that were at the tables for the reception. We ended up putting them in two photo albums. If you are looking at an album, everytime you turn the page there is another crazy picture of you in those glasses with that moustache."
Then they gave us each a frozen margarita out of their pitcher.
It's good to be loved.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Some TV commercials just get under my skin. I know, "DVR it and you can fast forward through them", but I am not that committed to what I choose to watch. So, I just have to bitch about it. The one that is really bugging me now is the TMobile My Touch commercial. You know, the one with the little catchy song with Whoopi Goldberg, Phil Jackson and Jesse James passing around the phone with the cute photos on it? I have seen that commercial at least 50 times, and I had to look up what product the damn thing was pushing prior to writing this. So, if I can't remember the product, how effective is the marketing?
And just who are these marketing people trying to relate to? "if you want to be you, be you, and if you want to be me, be me..." I don't have a desire to even have lunch with these people. I have nothing in common with them and I dare say most other people in the market for a cell phone don't relate to them either. A has-been comedian, an old, no personality basketball coach and a sell-out bike builder? Give me a break.
It would be irresponsible to criticize and not offer alternatives, so, TMobile, if you are listening, here's something that would interest this everyday kid and his friends with money enough to buy your stupid phone.
1. Mariah Carey singing "Touch my Body" while doing anything with the phone. Surely she would be cheaper than the combination of those other three morons, and she is scorching hot.
2. Keep the same cast, and instead of Cat Stevens, play The Divinyl's "I Touch Myself." That would be funny.
3. Not a great idea, but better than yours, how about MC Hammer presenting the phone to his "Can't Touch This." He needs the money.
So, I won't be buying a TMobile phone because your commercial sucks. But hey, maybe TMobile has it right, and as Hall & Oats said, I'm just "Out of Touch."
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Talk to her about her softball team, what position she plays, etc.
Ask her if she is on facebook.
Ask her to check out your blog.
See if she likes football, maybe you can talk about your fantasy team.
None of these are good ideas because Mrs Ozzy has never been a girl, and I have never tried to get a girl to like me.
Fast forward to prayer time.
Ozzy : "Dear Jesus and God"
Mrs Ozzy: "Please be with Ashlee, Kelsey and Granpa."
Ozzy Jr: "and please help me and Sarah to have a love connection.
Love, sincerely the Nelsons. Amen"
Saturday, September 19, 2009
I know my daughters didn't do anything close to passing out on a toilet. Maybe they are paying for the sins of their father.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
I knew Bangchi had a blog, but we really never talked much about it until a few weeks ago. She asked how many hits I had gotten since I started it. I told her Blogspot doesn't keep up with it so I don't know, probably about 38. So, she tells me her blog has been hit more than 233,000 times. My sibling rivalry juices began all of the sudden flowing. I accuse her of writing an app to hit her own blog to get the counts up (I don't really believe it, but I have to come up with something). She is loving getting the best of me because I just can't believe that many people would want to go look at her last trip to New York or her class reunion in China. After several minutes of me asking stupid questions about how she gets that many users and her laughing histarically AT me, I have to change my tac.
"PLEASE put a link to my blog on yours", I began grovelling. It wasn't pretty. She had bragging rights and I had none. I don't write this thing for attention (that is a lie). Ok, I do. Anyway, Bangchi not only put a link to my blog on hers, but she has written two of her blogs about me.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Michelle Duggar is pregnant with her 19th child and she is "surprised." As I recall, last year when she went on the Today Show and announced she was having #18, they were "surprised" as well. What the hell are they surprised about?? It's like being surprised that the Eagles are doing a reunion tour. I just don't get it.
Mrs Ozzy asked me this morning why this bothers me so, when they are supporting themselves. That is a great question. This is a free country and those weirdo's from Arkansas can have as many kids as they want, and there shouldn't be a law preventing that (unless they are on gov't run healthcare, which is another story). But I certainly wouldn't blame their health insurance carrier for raising their rates. That's what happens after you wreck your car, and I contend that is why they have a reality show. Because people can't help but look at a car wreck.
Check this out, below is a listing of kids and their bdays.
2 & 3 1990
10 & 11 1998
19 on the freaking way 2010
This woman gets pregnant every time her husband fakes an orgasm. Stand up comics could write an entire act making jokes about her vagina.
Here's my bitch, if you want a ton of kids, fine have a few of your own, then take some poor child out of a bad situation and make it better for them. There are thousands of kids in foster care in this country that need loving families (like the Duggars profess they are). There are many interractial babies in this country that could be adopted. If you are too white to love a brown child, Russia and the Ukrain have hundreds of thousands of orphans that can be adopted. According to iorphan.org, only 1 in 10 of these kids turn out to be productive members of society. But, no, its more important for the Duggars to show the world they still have intercourse than to bring one of these truely needy kids into their family and love them.
I have three kids, two biological, one adopted. I love the one that wasn't made from my sperm just as much as the two that were.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Well, I couldn't let them down, so I had a couple drinks. Danced a couple of dances, drank a couple more drinks. Then it occured to me that each of the 12 tables at the reception had a disposable camera. Put there for the guests to capture their experience at the reception. So, I went to every table, took a picture of myself with their camera and encouraged them to use up the film. Throughout the night as people left and tables were empty, I took the camera from the table and used the remaining film. Then, get another drink.
We stayed till the very end and did a little cleanup, and Mrs Ozzy drove us home.
I woke Sunday morning with a headache, and a fear that I had embarrassed myself, or worse, embarrassed the wedding planner. I didn't get an earful when I got up, so I must have behaved pretty well. I hope that is still the case when the film is developed.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Friday, August 14, 2009
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Me: Hey Dad, you remember that oven door we had such a hard time getting back on?
Dad: Ya, I remember.
Me: Well I'm having similar problems with this weed eater that I'm working on. It is driving me crazy, so I stopped to drink some beer and give you a call -
Dad: That's how you tell if a man's tough.
Dad: That's how you tell if a man's tough, if he trims the hair around his nuts with a weedeater. (Dad remembers every joke he has ever heard. He is a joke remembering/telling machine. Jokes are so engrained in his personality that he sometimes just blurts out punchlines. We'll be driving to Lowe's and he'll say, "cunning runt" or be telling a story and say, "the fantom rides." These are punchlines to jokes that you have to stop him and ask to hear the joke to you understand what he is talking about.)
Dad: You know how to tell if a woman is tough?
Dad: If her vibrator has a kick start.
Me: Oh. pause Back to the weed eater...
When my old man gets on a roll, he is a really funny guy. Sometimes I laugh with him, sometimes I openly laugh at him. We talked for another several minutes about his health and his upcoming trip to Montana.
I ended the call by saying, "Dad, I love you." I planned to say that when I made the call. I had to plan it, because I can't remember saying those words to my dad in my life. Never. When I was young my dad would say he loved me, but as I recall, it was in the context with the other kids. Like, "I (or we) love you boys." Never to me as an individual. I'm certainly not blaming my reluctance to sharing feelings on my dad. I know without a doubt that his dad never told him he loved him, although I'm sure he did. My grandfather, the son of immigrants grew up on the streets of New York in the depression. Expressing love was not something he ever learned.
Before hanging up Dad said he loved me as well.
I am proud that I am the original "dirty old man's" grandson, but there are a few family traditions my old man and I are working to change.
Fast forward to Saturday. Beautiful weather, I have a ton of stuff to do, and its Ozzy Jr's job to cut the grass and he finally got busy on it. 10 minutes in he saw a wasp. Last week he saw a wasp and wasn't able to finish the job due to his emotional state. Now, he's too scared to cut the grass because he saw a wasp. I was not happy. Cutting the grass was not on my agenda. At the point of our father/son discussion when I knew he was not going to finish the job, I said words that my father may have said to me. "Well, you just take your candy ass inside and unload the dishwasher!" He disappeared into the house.
Earlier in the day we had the disucssion of doing what you fear to overcome the fear, but obviously, he wasn't buying it. I resigned myself to cutting the grass. 20 minutes into the chore, he came out and told me he decided he could do it. He took over and cut the rest of the yard. I was proud that he overcame his fear and later I told him just that. I also said, "sorry I called you a 'candy ass'." He replied, "I like the word 'candy ass'."
I like the word "candy ass" too.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Mrs. Ozzy: Dear Jesus and God
Ozzy Jr. : Please don't let Momma find out that there is a Victoria's Secret catalog and a flashlight under my pillow.
(then he squeezes my hand, which means he's finished with the "body")
Me: and be with Ash and Kels and Granpa and Aaron Small.
Everyone: Love, sincerely The Nelsons, Amen.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
"Ouch." I wake up. Mrs Ozzy had said "ouch".
The knuckles on my left hand felt like they had hit bone.
"I am so sorry honey, I did not mean to punch you, I was having this dream..."
"No, I am really, really sorry."
"I did not mean to punch you. I am so sorry."
"Its ok. My elbow doesn't hurt at all now."
"I hit you on the elbow?"
"Yes. Where did you think you hit me?"
Mrs. Ozzy's head was level with mine in the bed. Ashlee is 5'0 tall. Thank God.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Marie died yesterday. She was 88. She loved her husband, her church, her family, and she enjoyed teasing a kid half her age about his different styles of facial hair.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
So, this afternoon I get up from my chair and instinctively pull out my badge from my front pocket. The phone rings. I reach did answer the phone and as if in slow motion, my badge falls into my chair. I tried to retrieve it for 10 minutes, turning it upside down, banging it on the floor, reaching my hand into it. Nothing worked. Through the commotion, my office neighbor comes by and I tell her my story. She doesn't believe me. So, we take the chair to an interior door across the hall and lift it up to the badge reader. It beeps and turns green. She busts out laughing and I go downstairs to confess to security.
While I am out she decides to have a little fun and tells one of our gullible friends that she has discovered that this certain chair is magnatized in such a way as it opens a door just like a badge. They roll my chair to the door and lift it to the card reader. Beep. The friend is amazed. She wants to try another chair. They do. No beep. Then another. No beep. Now my neighbor can't control her laughter.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Well, in our second inning at-bat, Tommy asked to go to the bathroom. He was'nt batting for another several batters and there weren't any outs, so, no problem.
Fast forward to the forth inning.
Tommy: "Coach, I gotta pee"
Me: "boy, you just went in the second inning"
Tommy: "i've gotta go BAD'
Me: "You are next on deck. No, you can't go"
Tommy: "I can't hold it."
A voice from the dugout: "Do you have a gatorade bottle?"
Tommy: "Ya, but its half full"
A voice from the dugout: "hurry up and drink it"
The next thing I know is that there is a ruckus in the corner and kids exclaiming, "He's doing it!"
Tommy is behind the 55 gallon drum trash can peeing in the gatorade bottle. At that moment, he was supposed to be on deck. The kid at the plate strikes out, and I say, "dude, you've got to get out of here now."
He drops the bottle, the dugout erupts with panic, he runs to the plate, pants unziped, unsnapped, belt unbuckled. So, now he's in the batters box trying unsuccesfully to redress himself. The umpire is looking at him like he just peed in the dugout, and the 3rd base coach comes over and gives him a hand with getting himself back together.
Meanwhile, I look in the corner of the dugout, there are splatters of what I'm sure is urine on the wall and as I walk to the scene of the crime, I see a gatorade bottle laying on its side on the ground containing what appears to be a clear liquid. I pick up the bottle with my fingertips and toss it in the trash, getting another shocked response from the team.
I don't remember what Tommy did at his at bat, I'd like to say he hit a home run, but I know that wasn't the case. He was delighted to be the entertainment for a few minutes.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Ashlee started a new job in Murf. so, she is now working someplace that has insurance and has gloves to use.
Baseball season is nearing a close. It hasn't been the season I'd hoped for, but I have learned a lot, so in that respect it has been good. We'll see what happens in the fall.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
I will be donating a box of surgical gloves every time my daughter works from here forward.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Thursday, April 30, 2009
- I got tattooed at the show for the first time.
- The belly dancing show never gets old
- Teddy did 18 piecings, so he can pay his rent this month
- Tom Zombie sang from memory the forth verse of the beloved hymn "Just as I am" (long story)
- I gave a dude $5 to take a picture with him and his fakeness
- I mistakenly called this bald girl with tattoos on her head "man"
- I feel good about missing Sideshow Benny hanging irons from his scrotum.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Friday, February 27, 2009
VP: Ozzy, did you create those sample files where is describes the size and seed, etc.
Ozzy: Yes. They are in the directory where all of the other files are.
VP: I'm not seeing them. All I see are the Excel files. We REALLY need these for the external auditors when they come to review our work.
Ozzy: They are out there. They start with an "R".
VP: I'm still not seeing them.
Ozzy: What software are you using to view the directory?
Ozzy: They aren't Excel files, they are text files.
VP: What does that mean?
Ozzy: You should be looking in Window's Explorer, not Excel. Just pull up Window's Explorer and you will see them.
VP: I thought Explorer was how you got to the internet.
Ozzy: That is Internet Explorer.
VP: Then I have no idea what you are talking about. Would my admin know?
Ozzy (thinking): I have a 10 year old son and a 9 week old puppy that would know.
Ozzy: Yes. She would know.
VP: Well I will get with her then.
Wyatt was in the car with Pam and decided he needed to test the cigarette lighter. Why he thought that the best way to do this experiment was to touch it to the end of his nose, I’m not quite sure.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
1/20 - take it to the next level - To ratchet up. The phrase may be used in reference to intensity or performance but often is just thrown out there for effect, leaving the "it" undefined.
2/5 - diversity - A mix of many different kinds of people; something many companies are supposedly deeply committed to in the form of office politics. Somehow, everybody thinks serving cafeteria food that "represents" and "teaches about" different groups of people is a great idea.
2/7 - constructive criticism - Negative feedback presented in a helthy and useful manner, according to the person delivering it. When the boss [or his designee] says, "This looks like shit", take it as constructive criticism.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
For 12 years my family only had one dog. My oldest daughter was given a dog last year by her boyfriend (which we affectionately called “shit bird”). Of course, shit bird didn’t ask us before he decided to bestow this Chihuahua on our house. So, like it or not we now had two dogs. Our oldest dog Amiga had to be put down after Christmas, so we were left with the less than amicable Chihuahua.
We have since adopted two puppies, one to replace Amiga (replace is a horrible choice of words, Amiga can never be replaced) and one on impulse. Now we have three dogs and I’m feeling like I’m turning into my old man. And it isn’t that bad really.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
I was sick this week. Don't know why, but I got to watch some good solid TV. Here's my 2 day sick list of what I watched when I wasn't sleeping, working, or huling.
- Ground Hog Day. - Never gets old
- A Fist Full of Dollars - Its good even if I couldn't understand half of the dialog
- For a Few Dollars More - I used the subtitles, it was great.
- Charmed, the mermaid episode - Alyssa Milano in pasties. Enough said. (thanks Kat for letting me know this was on)
- Rock of Love, the bus tour - Why did I waste my time with this trash?
A special thanks to Tiger who put together the characature for my blog. He is a better artist than he is a developer. (That was a joke).
Monday, January 12, 2009
These are all friends of mine.
Unfortunately I get the inausipicious honor of winning this poll. Though everyone got at least 2 votes and Niko came in a very close second.
Which of these gentlemen would you be LEAST likely to let chaparone your daughter on a date. (From left to right)
Name ................Votes..................... % of votes
------................... ----- ........................-----------
Niko ....................11............................ 32%
Tom Zombie ..........6.............................17%
Will .......................3 .............................8%
Ozzy ....................12 ...........................35%
Killer Bee ..............2 ..............................5%
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Anyway, we went and had a gread sushi lunch and headed for the Red Cross. Kelsey had tried to give blood once before in high school and things didn't go so well, but I promised I was very confident that this time it would be different.
Things were going great and Kelsey had given 400 of the 470 units that she had to give when she started having trouble. Linda, the tech attending to her, had her coughing to help her finish it up when all of the sudden Kelsey spewed sushi, sprite, etc. all over me and herself (yuk, puke in the hair). It was like The Exorcist, a large, green burst of rice and crunchy shrimp. Well, she was able to finish, (yahoo!) but since I was covered in Japanese delight, I had to put my dedication to my job aside and go home to clean up.