Saturday, December 31, 2005

the holidays

man, i've been damn busy over the holidays, between work, the band (we are unofficially-almost-officially calling ourselves the dry hump all stars), and family get-together type things.

so as a result, this little patch of my creativity has taken a backseat. however, rest assured, my droogs and only friends, that my interest in different parts of my creativity goes in cycles, and this blog will be back on top in the not-too-distant future. and i've just been so tired and busy lately that i haven't come up with the usual sarcastic shit that you, o beloved nonexistant reader, have come to know and expect, and therefore i feel that rather than give you some lame, mediocre product to tide you over, it might be better to leave the shelves bare, so to speak.

however, i would like to wish all of you out there the very best of holidays (i realize they're mostly past), and here's to a happy and prosperous new year. i will be working tonight, probably well past the countdown and dropping of the ball, so drink one for me, and kiss one for me, and whatever else you do to thumb your noses at fate or death or whoever for yet another year survived, do one extra for me. and keep me in your thoughts, as i will be barrelling around lakewood, full of shitty drivers at the best of times, while many others toddle around under the influence.

here's to a good new year. here's to the troops coming home for good from iraq. here's to more jobs, better pay, lower prices and interest rates. here's to healthy families. here's to smiles and laughs and dancing and running through fields of flowers and playing tag and acting silly. here's to nakedness. here's to drunken shennannigans. here's to all the things that make us hope for a better day, week, month, year. hope your life is more full of these things than the other shit that seems to occasionally cloud our view to just how lucky we are to have what we have.


darth sardonic

Saturday, December 17, 2005

it's the little things that kill...

both of my sons have therapies at ctu. this is a place where specialists work with special needs kids, you know, kids with speech problems, or who need physical therapy, or lots of kids who a severely handicapped in one way or another. all the time i spend there watching the other parents who have children with more problems than my own makes me think two things: 1) there but for the grace go i, and 2) i admire those parents' courage, patience, and diligence. i, frankly, couldn't fucking do it. but yesterday i was there, in the waiting room, and overheard one of the therapists telling one of the parents what a great job their son was doing, how much that child had improved. i thought, you know, there should be an audience of a thousand people in black-tie giving a standing ovation right now. the thought choked me up. so i shared my pride, i guess you'd say it was, with the mom after the therapist was done. it's the little things that make it better.

or worse. later that same day, sleep deprivation and "that time of the month", as my wife and i call my monthly funks, caught up with me. the house was a bit of a mess, every time i tried to tidy, the kids would mess it back up. then i thought i'd take a break and practice some bass, and my main axe, that i put together myself from parts i bought on ebay is suddenly not working right, and i started thinking about how i can never seem to afford the things i really want, in the kind of shape that i'd like. build and build. pick and pick. itch and itch. the kids are whining for more cookies, or a different movie, more of this, more of that, and WHAMMO! i lost it with nos. 1 and 2. screaming and hollering, and i made them both cry, which made me feel like shit, then we shared kisses to make it better, and i started crying. it was a complete and utter sardonic household meltdown.

work sucked, and i was nearly in accidents twice, the people were crazy, the fog was thick, the roads were icy. i was in one of the most pissy moods i have been in in years, and my wife was drunk when i came home, and people were over, and i was kind of an ass. the long and the short, i went to bed.

had to get up early to take pepper to get spayed, then home trying to keep the boys from bothering hungover mom, i took them for a long drive on the peninsula. when we got back, i was getting them out of the car, the world was spinning and gyrating and i was fighting to get them in the door, and, apparently, according to eyewitness accounts, i got them inside, stood there for a second, and crashed full-out on the floor. yes, i passed out for the very first time in my entire life. it was an extremely bizarre experience. and my wife and the two friends who stayed cause they drank too much last night thought i was fucking around. i woke up with my wife on top of me and my kids hanging over me, and my belt undone.

a nap and a meal later, and i'm better.

and so now i just have one question: if a drunk girl at a party informs you a few times in random conversation that she swallows, does she dig you?

talk to you soon,

darth sardonic

Wednesday, December 14, 2005

been busy

i know, i know, i haven't posted in awhile. i've been working alot, and trying to spend my free time with my family, and/or jamming with my friends. i think it's quite possible that we are no longer just jamming, but are actually a band.

anyhoo, not much else going on here. still battling with no. 1 on the potty training, and still battling with no. 2 to quit whining when he wants something.

and basically, that's the news, hope to have something new for you soon.

darth sardonic

Friday, December 02, 2005

sex and car crashes...

okay, that title really has absofuckinglutely nothing to do with today's post, but my copy of crash was sitting by the computer and apparently janet maslin of the new york times thought this would be a great way to describe the movie: my reply, instantly provided by my wise-ass bastard inner monologue, was "no fucking duh".

which brings me to my next random nonsequitor: my inner monologue. this creature, i think, is possibly another entity entirely that explains everything i see as if it were a novel (most often, an extremely dull and mundane novel, but a novel nonetheless), but also has a second voice that is constantly making rude, sarcastic, and sometimes even racist and sexist and most definitely not socially acceptable comments to everything. i glean from this voice, the kinds of things that would actually be funny (most of the time, hopefully anyways) to the populace in general, or occasionally that are like inside jokes with myself only, like the "you know what would be fun?" thing. do i hear voices then? yes. are they telling me to kill people or blow shit up? not usually. not in a serious way anyways. if i start to listen too hard, then i spose i will get myself on some drugs, quick.

we've been offline for a bit, switching internet providers. this is the reason for the lag in posting.

it's snowing! fucking crazy. not the snow. not even my ability to drive in it (my driver's license is an alaskan license. i spent five years in fairbanks. winter driving in fairbanks is like driving on an ice-skating rink with six inches of fresh powder on it. i am not scared of driving in a paltry 3 inches of fresh powder.) i am scared to fucking death of the other drivers on the road around here. they've absolutely no clue. yesterday, i was driving on 512 with the snow coming down fairly hard, and i could easily divide the drivers into two groups: ridiculously slow and stupid, and ridiculously fast and stupid. only a small handful of people would i put into the "safely plugging along" category.

then i was delivering last night as well. not that it was really that bad for most of night. but towards the end it got a little hairy, and m refused to take another run. flat out refused. our little che guevarra of the pizzas. it threw our twat manager into a frenzy, (as an aside, it is important for me to add here that this particular manager can't manage her own ass with extra hands and detailed instructions, let alone a whole store, and she fucking panics at every little thing.) and she was going to try to get me to cover the rest of his shift. but i cut her off short and told her, "if you're going to ask me to close, the answer is absolutely no fucking way." then she says, "oh no, i wasn't going to get you to try and cover." fucking liar.

so the area manager told all his store managers that if they felt it wasn't safe for their drivers to go ahead and close early. yeah, don't do me any favors, bastard. so i'm hoping they go ahead and decide that they shouldn't be open again today. nothing has changed really, there's still a ton of snow everywhere, and snow clouds in the sky with a promise of much more, probably about the time i'm sposed to be on. and people call like fucking crazy when it snows. i don't get that. you are unwilling to leave the house and pick up the pizzas, but fuck me, i should be overjoyed to drag myself out into the fray to drop your steaming pies off at your doorstep and risk my life with the fucking crazies and the slick roads for a measly two-dollar tip? yeah, that makes sense.

but i must leave off now, as the kids are in desperate need of some snow time, and i'm looking forward to snowmen and snowballs and frozen fingers and whatever else we can discover outside.

darth sardonic