A Day in the Life...

Went to work today where I...

...taught some physics,

...taught some chemistry,

...played some bass,

...graded some stuff,

...planned a lab,

...wrote a test,

...then I went home where, on the way I...

...stopped off for dinner and a beer with a lady friend...

...stopped at a junkyard in a tie and wingtips and got some shit, all the while getting frickin' weird looks from the Hispanic guys who work there, and managed to not get any grease on my pants...

...stopped by my folks' to grab my dad's onboard-diagnostics scanner so I could work on my buddy Big Larry's car, where I...

...hung out with my dog for a while and loved the hell out of her,

...drank a couple beers with my dad and his friend Ted, then I...

...went home and worked with Bauler for a while on his Environmental Biology class, then we...

...went to Barnes and Noble where I...

...bought a copy of "The Fifth Element," "Labyrinth (fukkin' David Bowie fukkin' rocks that shit)", "The Dark Crystal (muppets with baaaaad attitudes)", and "Tucker, The Man and His Dream,"...

...perused the Illinois section for ghost books and found none that I didn't already have,

...gave dirty looks to the dude behind the counter who tried to charge me double for a copy of Newkirk's Guide to the Totally Boned, put it back on the rack and told him to piss off, then I...

...went home and tried to take a look at my cat, who hurt his paw yesterday (unsuccessful)...

...watched "That Thing You Do", then I...

...wrote this crazy little bullshit blog all the while fighting the pop-ups and intermittenly surfing YouTube and Newgrounds. Now I will...

...run through some tunes for the gig Friday night, or I...

...might just say "fuck it" and head off to bed, where I...

...plan to sleep like a corpse while hopefully the Benadryl takes hold and I won't wake up feeling like my head is still full of wet cotton, then I...

...will wake up and head off to another day in my weird schizo life and will most likely have some fun. Or so I hope. And, with luck, the next blog will not be so inane. Let's see what happens.

Ode to a Delta 88--update

After a long and drawn-out battle, some of the episodes of which you may have noticed I beleaguered you with here, success!

The fucker RUNS! On all eight! And it's fast! And it doesn't puke anything on my driveway! All right, so the "check engine" light comes on once in a while, but everytime I open the hood and check the engine, it's still there! Woo!

And (hopefully) thus ends the period of blogless darkness in which I have toiled. Gotta tell ya, campers--this thing took up a lot of my available memory. I laid on the floor in my garage a lot--sometimes underneath this miserable shitheap, and sometimes, just on the floor, off to the side, holding my head and fighting off the urge to just put my thumb in my mouth and whimper. It's worth mentioning, I guess, that a) I'm really not a mechanic and b) I've never tried anything like this. And consider what you would do in such a situation, which I will illustrate for you here: you get a car for free and find out it doesn't really run well enough to do anything with. Why in the name of all that's holy wouldn't you just say "fuck it" and call Victory Auto Wreckers to come and get it the hell out of your hair? Why didn't I? There came a point (inconveniently, that point was when the old engine was out and lying on the floor and the new engine was dangling precariously from the engine hoist about three feet over the engine bay while I was reaching underneath it to clear some hoses out of the way. Remember, I've never done an engine swap before, which means I have NO idea how to properly lift an engine. Where do you hook up the chains? I have the engine hoist set on "1/2 ton"; does this engine weigh more than that? I'm using chain from the jungle-gym I tore out of my backyard two summers ago to lift this thing; d'ya think it'll hold?) where I was ready to scrap the whole idea, but what do you say to the tow-truck driver when he comes to pick up the car and there's not one but two expulsed engines he's got to deal with? I like my teeth, thanks. I also like not being shot.

Well, now all that's left is to clean the bastard up and get rid of it. It's still a little loud, though, as you probably could tell from the clip, but I think I'm done lying underneath it for a little while. Although, I've never done an exhaust system swap before, either. Hmm...

Anyway, 1983 Oldsmobile for sale, cheap! Runs great! Expertly maintained (snort)! New (er)(er)(er)(er) engine (hee hee...the car's got 77,000 miles on it and the engine's got like 120,000)! Interior mint (if a little dusty)! Wire wheel(cover)s! Large (3 corpse) trunk! Asking price: get it the hell offa my driveway!

Arrgh

Arrgh


Arrgh.

Sometimes you just gotta say it...so here, in the manner for which it was truly intended...

AAAAARRRRGGGGHHHHH

Not in a bad way, though. Arrgh like "Arrgh, it sure felt good to get that splinter yanked out of my thumb" or "Arrgh, playing upright bass can suck but it sure feels good when you stop" or "Arrgh, I just unloaded 3,000 pounds worth of Marshmallow Peeps and now it's Miller time" or "Arrgh, my cat weighs a fuckin' ton" or "Arrgh, it's 12:30 and I'm just rolling in to my driveway after a long-ass dress rehearsal at Triton College and I got up this morning at 6:00 and I have to do it again tomorrow" or "Arrgh, I'm sure glad I didn't vote for Bush" or "Arrgh, it's like majorly time to unbury the Moose from the back of the garage and tell the record-profit oil-baron jerkoffs where to stick it."

Oh, and speaking of bikes, have you ever ridden anything so fast it made you feel like you were going to shit your pants? I did, Saturday night on set break at the Venice gig. Thanks, Fred, for letting me take it for a spin, and I'm happy to tell you that I didn't put any additional miles on your new front tire because it was off the ground the whole time. Well, maybe except for when I had to stop. There's a new name for "Instant Brown-Stain Maker" in the Webster's Thesaurus, and its name is "Triumph Rocket III." I gotta get me one of these. It a) sounds like a Ferrari, b) looks like something out of a comic book, c) will do 90 in second gear and d) will instantly suck the skin right off of your skull if you're not paying attention. Did I mention it's fast? Oh, and also, it's black. Blacker than midnight in a mole's asshole. Blacker than a power outage in a mineshaft. Blacker than a really, really black thing. How much more black could it be? The answer is none...none more black. Well, maybe a little. Anybody got an extra $15,000 they can spot me? I'll pay you back next week, I swear.

This is as random a blog, I guess, as it is possible to post. Truly the hoofprints of lack of sleep and overworking and the fact that there's 50 bones left in my bank account and the Mouse is back in the shop and the Dragon's full to the gunwales with gear and I'm driving my dad's minivan.

Well then. Off to beddy-bye, I guess, and hopefully I'll make more sense upon the morrow.

Skoal!