Friday, June 30, 2006

oh fine

yeah, so, the cars are making the little clackity clackity noise as we travel back up on darth's little emotional theme park ride. not that yesterday's post (and feeling) was really down, just thoughtful, a bit worried, and unsure. so maybe a climb is the wrong analogy. you guys like turn better? yeah, me too.

so the cars do that jerky thing that tosses you to one side and makes you scream against your will as darth's emotional ride takes a turn. yeah, i really like that. why does it always have to be up-and-down?

it's not that i sit around completely passive waiting for life to happen to me and then make the best of what i'm given completely. i do want certain things, and i do seek after the things i want, i just am patient about getting them if it is going to take awhile. and i'm usually (eventually) accepting when things i want aren't going to happen.

but things are beginning to sort themselves out, and it looks like they are going to go the way i wanted in the first place.

we'll see. i'll keep ya posted. hahahahaha i crack myself up.

the word you're looking for is loser.

darth sardonic

Thursday, June 29, 2006

i can't believe i'm not ashamed to be the person that i am today

i cannot even begin, o beloved nonexistant reader, to capture the jumble of thoughts in my head and stretch it into one cohesive thought.

i'm feeling very pensive today. (yeah, big shocker) and there are so many things i find on my plate right now. some happy, some sad, most in some kind of confusing limbo state pending further investigation.

i definitely feel (as i do most days, if i give myself a moment to look at it) like i am on the threshold of something. usually i have some kind of vague idea of what. today, i am not so sure. mostly, i feel as i do every day: everything will work out.

but let's look at that a moment, shall we? (we're fuckin gonna anyways, right? it's my god damn blog.) all that sentence really says is i'm going to do the best with what i'm handed. and i will. i'm totally going to candide my way out like i always do. whatever happens, i'll tough it out and move on, but i don't even know where things are going.

and i am not going to steal courtney's thing by telling you you should listen to a certain song, because you might listen to them and say to yourself, "i don't even know what the fuck darth is thinking, these songs have shite to do with what he's prattling on about.", but i find myself listening to breaking benjamin's diary of jane, and especially staind's so far away, cause something about these two songs seem to fit my mood and all the issues that i am currently kicking around. again, listening to these songs will probably not lend any insight into my emotional state or what i am dealing with, they are simply speaking to me right now.

i will say, and i actually find it surprising as well, that no matter what happens, like the line in the song, i can't believe i'm not ashamed to be the person that i am today.

with that, o my droogs and only friends, i leave you for today.

darth sardonic

Wednesday, June 28, 2006

jesus, won't you fucking whistle?

any residual hornetry is removed. but i noticed something, when bees die, it's like they're trying to sting something, anything, as they go out. they are some tough motherfuckers.

my kids have two volumes: loud, and nuclear blast. most of the time i don't even care. some mornings, though, it's very noticeable. no. 1 will just keep yelling the same thing over and over and over until your brains turn to mush. each sentence punctuated with "okay, buddy?"

he just said to me, "you take it, now go!" and boy, do i want to, o beloved nonexistant readers, do i ever.

apparently, when i became a pizza delivery guy, that became all my friends think about when they think about me. if i had a dollar for every time my roommates or friends call up and ask if i am bringing home pizza, i'd be rich. it would be one thing if they didn't follow up "you bringing home pizza tonight?" with "can we get pineapple and pepperoni?" or "sausage and jalapenos?" then i get to stand around for an extra ten minutes while it gets made. some of my friends work in restaurants, i don't ask if they can bring home a ham and cheese sandwich or a burger.

no. 2 has figured out how to take his diaper off. this means fun for me. just this morning, he took his diaper off, getting poop all over himself and sundry other things, then screamed like i was ripping his arms off when i put him in the shower. the entire time i was washing him clean, he shrieked at top volume right into my face while i got soaked in lukewarm water. then i had to clean the tub and round up laundry while he peed on the floor. he needs to be potty-trained in the worst way, for his own safety.

and why can't we not be sober? just curious.

darth sardonic

Monday, June 26, 2006

weapons of mass destruction

and as fun as it would be to write a post about human chemical and biological warfare (NOT), i'm actually talking about a certain spray for the destruction of winged stinging insects.

the backstory: when we moved into our new house, there was the tiniest little nest being created under the eves of our porch. we thought, we'll have to get some bug spray and take care of that.

and in a matter of a month, they have created something the size of a fucking football. originally, we thought it was the yellowjackets, which, frankly, i think are lazy partyin sons-a-bitches, cause they never would've created anything this big in a whole summer, let alone a month.

these turned out to be the black and white hornets, who, in my hive/rock-throwing experience are some angry motherfuckers with nasty fucking stings.

and they're no slackers either, o beloved nonexistant reader. cause at any given point they had three of those angry bastards building outer layers at breakneck speed in double shifts. i fully expected to find empty husks out in the driveway from where they had worked themselves to death only to be replaced but yet another drone.

so yesterday we bought the can of liquid death. now, they say that at dusk, the winged stinging beasts of burden are all sacked up for the night, and can be peacefully offed in their beds.

but apparently, my droogies, they were about the lose their bonus, cause the foreman was riding them well past the usual already-late closing time. so somewhere around 10:30 (a good hour-and-a-half after dusk), they were finally sacked out, and i stood in the driveway and soaked the living fuck out of their hive.

read back up to the paragraph about hive/rock throwing experience. suffice to say, i have never been the brightest crayon, and frequently had found myself unduly influenced by bee-hating friends of mine. so, while i respect bees and what they do, and i am not a bee-a-phobe, i don't really like being around them when they are in an agitated state.

so i hosed down the hive with the poison. and stood there a minute, gloating, i'm not ashamed to admit, when this crazy buzzing and thrashing kind of panicky noise began to emerge from the sodden nest.

and again, i am not ashamed to admit i beat feet out of there through the back door, and then finished gloating from behind the safety of window glass. just something about the noise of those thrashing hornets made my skin fucking crawl.

i'll allow the nest to stay up for 24 hours as testament to worthy opponents (ok, it's actually to help kill any hangers-on), and then i am knocking that shit down.

but it brings up imagery of dubya, and certain wars that i am not in agreement with.

darth sardonic

Sunday, June 25, 2006


yesterday, i was awakened abruptly before 7:30, and told to get dressed.

"werree gon?" i asked.

"for a drive." was the mysterious reply.

while i was still fumbling around the bedroom, trying to remember what i was doing (oh yeah, getting dressed), my wife came in and told me they were in the car waiting.

i dribbled myself into the car, and off we went. as we tore south on i-5, i was informed we were going to portland.

not long after, i was asleep again

it should be noted that picking up and going at the spur of the moment is cool. as long as there is no plan. why? you may ask. well, i'll tell ya. cause saying, we're gonna drive around the peninsula, and we might end up at a farmer's market in sequim, or walking down the main drag of port orchard window shopping, or checking out wwii bunkers in port townsend is cool. no plan, we do what we want, wherever the wind takes us.

saying, we're going to visit my godparents and then finding out they're not home, well...

however, m was going to be home shortly. so we went to the saturday market in portland, and perused the stalls of arts and crafts.

markets like this used to be my scene, man. (totally with beatnik accent. even snapping my fingers and bobbing my head, and saying, "jazzy!) local artists, hippies, left-of-centers, and outside-the-box thinkers. a pervading smell of bo, hemp, and patchoolie. popping in and out of whatever booths interested me and yakking to the owner about the best tie-dye technique, where to find interesting and cool metal junk to turn into art, and politics.

and i don't know if i have changed, or the scene has, i think maybe a bit of both. most of the hippies i saw were clean (not that there is anything wrong with that), and they looked like they were almost militant about what they were wearing. it used to be cast-offs, thrifter clothes, and anything they could make themselves out of hemp. now it is head-to-toe hemp, and nicely made on sewing machines, and purchased from stall 17. while most of the stands had the usual collection of cool candles, wood crafts, paintings, organic honey, and other sundries, there were only really two that interested me: in one, a guy (who totally looked like a comic book geek and computer game nerd) draws his own insanely detailed and cleverly done kind of sinister original art. my favorite was a girl who looked a bit like a fairy ascending stairs into a wall of laughing skulls. don't know what it meant, but it was fucking cool.

the other was a booth full of silk-screened shirts by this guy: (click on the birds for different options) the one i bought isn't in the silk-screen options yet. he said he's been doing alot of new stuff. i saw his booth at the end, and it more or less saved the experience for me. he and i talked quite a bit. he handed me his card, and told me to email him some of my original artwork, maybe we could work out some kind of trade, shirts for the use of some of my stuff. we'll see.

then we went to the outlet malls, where i paid more than i would normally by double for a pair of shorts at the vans outlet. but they are badass shorts. and they ended up coming in handy later when we all got muddy at m's house playing in the creek.

the boys ran around naked, splashing in the water, throwing mud. i laid out after splashing in the water with the boys, and then we all blew bubbles.

then home, tired and content for the most part, with our day away.

darth sardonic

Thursday, June 22, 2006

i write fiction, too

Across the Wastelands he came, from a land where the people worship the Almighty Doll R. From a land where they eat peetsah, and drink goffi. A land of corruption, lies, and convenience.

Princess Linda (Leia was already taken) was queen of the Land of Innocence and Purity. The Lawn Gnome kneeling before her told a sad tale of the wicked P. D. Gai who had entered the outer limits of her kingdom and was speeding towards her castle in his red vehicle, strewing Pole Ewshun and Lowd Mewsick and Zarchasm about him as he passed.

"It's horrible, Your Highness. His vehicle is so noisy and fast and reeks of peetsah. The Mermaid Lake is already getting icky, and the Unicorn Plains are drying up and getting brown."

"I'll will ride forth to confront this P.D. Gai in battle." Princess Linda said, with a noble toss of her head.

She retrieved her Magic Sword from it place next to her throne, and called forth her steed, Schwartz. Schwartz was the fastest horse in all the land, and since he was stuffed, he never tired.

"Ride, Schwartz, ride! We go to meet our foe in battle!"

"Geez," said Schwartz, "so melodramatic."

"It is a Children's Fantasy story, silly. Haven't you ever read The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe?"

"Still. Is it really necessary to be this over-the-top?"

"Yes, Schwartz, it is."

And so Schwartz and Princess Linda galloped across the Unicorn Plains, Princess Linda's wavy curly tresses flowing in the breeze behind her like a curtain, Magic Sword drawn and ready.

And there before them, casting up a large dust cloud filled with goffi cups and peetsah boxes, heading directly at them, was P.D. Gai in his Apocalyptic Vehicle.

The two enemies stopped, and dismounted.

"You're pretty short for a Princess." sneered P.D. Gai.

"I am strong with Imagination (The Force was already taken, sheesh), and I have a Magic Sword."

"I don't give two whistles for your stupid sword. I'm afraid of neither Death nor Pain." and the wicked P.D. Gai tilted back his head and laughed a laugh filled with Suffering and Self-Deprecation.

"This sword will cause you neither Death nor Pain, my worthy Adversary. It will simply remove your Zarchasm."

P.D. Gai's eyes narrowed to slits, and he hissed, "You wouldn't dare."

And Princess Linda pointed the tip of the Magic Sword at P.D. Gai and said a magical incantation (which, I am sure, is also copyrighted, so I won't repeat it here), and lightning bolts shot from the tip of the Sword, and engulfed P.D. Gai in flames.

He cried, and screamed, and writhed in pain. And when the flames were gone, P.D. Gai was a new man.

He asked Princess Linda if he could stay in the Land of Innocence and Purity, and in a grand act of Forgiveness and Magnanimosity, she agreed. And he lives here still, to this day. Granted, he's not much good to us anymore. He shambles fairly slowly, and drools on himself alot, but he no longers makes smart comments, and he's pretty handy with a broom.

(and this would probably be longer and more involved if i wasn't writing it in a blog)

darth sardonic

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

one for the fans

recently i have received a few compliments on my writing, at how funny it is, and how real, and how i always seem to tie everything up.

i'm going to let you in on a little secret, o beloved nonexistant readers: the posts that i enjoy writing the most, and get the most out of later, seem to happen to me rather than by me.

what do i mean? well, let me splain. no, no, there is too much, let me sum up.

i will use in memoriam as an example (don't ask me to find it, i will get all caught up in rereading old posts and completely derail my train of thought for this one), i started out with a plan in mind. i am going to talk about johnny carson and his influence on my life.

somewhere in the course of writing that particular post, things got completely away from me. i bawled like i haven't in a long time while posting. i wrote about things that if you had asked me two seconds before, i would've told you i wouldn't be able to convey with words. i wrote about them, and managed to nail what i wanted to say. i purged myself onto the page in a way that was healthy and made sense to others who read it.

i don't know where it came from.

and alot of what i write is this, dear reader, simply divine inspiration, or sheer dumb luck, or que se yo. even on the little tag lines at the end that tie everything up, i don't set out with that tagline in mind. i get to the end and think, "holy shit, this would be a clever way to finish".

and i think that is how some of my favorite writers did it. they set out to jot something down, and occasionally it got away from them in a good way. a very organic experience. a cleansing. therapy.

and, o my beloved nonexistant readers, who surely exist as people, but in my head exist as only a concept, that is what writing for me has always been.

from the first time i grabbed a notebook with bile in my soul, and put a shirt across the bottom of the door so my parents wouldn't know i was still up and sat hunched over on my bed and vomitted all my pain and angst and self-loathing and bitterness and futility onto the page in the form of a poem, to today, when issues i have with my father melt away, fade, and all but disappear.

writing, quite frankly, has kept me alive.

but the most important thing i would convey with today's post, o my beloved nonexistant readers (and, yes, i know you exist, you leave me comments all the time telling me you do, but it still cracks me up to call you nonexistant. yes, i know i am fucked-up. no, i am not seeking help for it) is that i am flattered beyond words that when i have my little therapy sessions, whether it be here on on the real page, you enjoy reading them. that they make you laugh. that they make you cry. and if it were simply my close family who were telling me this, i might take it with a grain of salt, but i get it from many sides.

so, by way of passing this along to all of you out there who stop by this drop of dew (or more like dried-up fly husk) on the world wide web, a hearty thank you, and to those who manage to tell me how much they like it, an even bigger thank you, and to all, keep it up, you don't know how good it makes me feel.

"holy shit, this would be a clever way to finish."

darth sardonic

Monday, June 19, 2006

father's day, bday, and the short life-span of a manager

happy belated father's day to all my friends and family. hope you had a good one, and i hope that the whole year is good.

today is my birthday. i'm 35. seeing it typed out like that, though, and i am like, "really? really?!?" can't believe it. i don't feel 35, and i certainly don't act like most of the 35-year-olds i know.

i had to work yesterday. i am the only driver who is a father. yes, that is why i say it is a soul-sucking job. and no, reflective surfaces do not show my manager's image.

speaking of managers, our store is the training store for managers. so on a regular basis we get new would-be managers in for a few weeks. recently, we got one in who is waaaaaaaaaay too fucking chipper for his own good. he is sure to annoy the sweet fuck out of me in a very short period of time.

so yesterday, he's all smiling and dancing around like a portly kid's show host and catches my name off of my nametag and uses it, then says, "do you know who i am, darth?"

our general manager, we'll call him lucifer, says, "do you really care?" and i turn to z, as his name turned out to be, and say, "you're just another manager that is going to spend a few weeks here and leave."

apparently, that hurt his feelings. but here's the deal. i have gotten very close to about three of the managers-in-training over time, and they never stay at this store.

there was s, the punk. s fucking cracked me up, and we had hung out at some of the same punk hang-outs growing up, though i had never met him before. he actually walked up to me once, and said, "they're telling me they want this fucking floor mopped, and they want each driver to do a section before they go home. now, i know it's fucking stupid cause it is just gonna get fucked up again, but that's what they want. it's slow right now, figured you could grab a mop and bucket, pick your section, run the mop all over it really quickly, and then we can honestly say it got done." then stayed back there to talk to me while i did it.

he got sent to graham.

then there was r. r is gay. i loved the fact that he was very open about it, and he had the coolest sense of humor. i told him once maybe he should join the military. he said, "come on, i am gayer than christmas, they wouldn't even let me in." i did the eyebrow thing, and said, "you obviously don't know much about the military."

the 72nd store, then graham.

the latest, c, who has all-american teeth and hollister hair. the first time i saw him, i thought, "football, baseball, and surfing." so, being the lippy fucker that i am, i walk up to him and say, "please tell me you don't play football, run track, surf." he looked at me, laughed a cornfed laugh, and said, "yeah, i did all those in high school." i roll my eyes and say, "then please tell me you didn't grow up in some wholesome midwest state like iowa or kansas." "grew up right here in u.p." he also loves the local music scene as much as me, and knew exactly who i was talking about when i mentioned tad and seaweed.

he's going to federal way.

so, frankly, my beloved nonexistant reader, i don't give a shit about the managers unless they are permanent, and even then, they fucking get sent somewhere else after i get to know them.

and i am working tonight on my birthday too. boy, i love this place.

darth sardonic

Friday, June 16, 2006

the translator

i have begun to notice a trend at the sardonic household. this or similar scenes have been happening with more and more regularity.

this morning we are attempting the school replacement thing that i talked about before. and i guess it's like eggbeaters, or sunny delight, not even remotely as good as the real thing, but it will do in a pinch.

no. 2 decided he wanted to watch a movie. i said no. whining and crying ensued. no. 1 appears at no. 2's side and looks at me and says:

"why no. 2 crying, daddee?"

"cause he wants a movie and i told him no."

no. 1 turns to no. 2 and says, "daddee sez no no. 2 moovee."

no. 2, to no. 1: "uhno, no ahbashooah. uhbamooo."

no. 1, to me: "no. 2 want movee, daddee."

me, to no. 1: "i know, but no movies. he needs to pick out a book or a toy."

no. 1, to no. 2: "daddee sez pimma boo doy."

no. 2 cries more, shakes head vehemently: "no, no shammaooah ooooo ahh. MOOO!!"

no. 1: "no. 2 no wan book or doy, wan movee, daddee."

me: "well, you don't watch movies at school, so it's not movie time right now, sorry."

no. 1: "daddee sez no wamma movee skool. pimma boo doy."

no. 2 cries harder, throws self on floor: "uuuuhooooooommmammmaaah."

no. 1, to no. 2: "cummon, no. 2, we go pimma doy, no kky. no kky, no. 2"

now, if this ploy had worked, and no. 2 wasn't standing here crying in my ear in a language i cannot understand, and my miniature translator hadn't decided, fuck this, i am going outside, that would be keen.

darth sardonic

Thursday, June 15, 2006

my life is brilliant

i am sitting here laughing at myself cause i am listening to a song, crying, trying to block out the boys as they fight over something stupid, and wondering about tennis players.

yes, my patient and o so long-suffering droogs and nonexistant readers, we are on the upswing of darth's emotional rollercoaster.

my life is brilliant, o my brothers. even when i leave posts that make you wonder about my intentions for myself, my life is still brilliant. and furthermore, when i am posting in here about how badly it sucks, or how sad or mad or confused or lost or whatever my life feels at that very moment, i know my life is brilliant. and i know that i am only in a funk that i will overcome as i always do, and things will settle back down.

i've got a wonderful, gorgeous, patient, and funny wife. who else can look at me with "that look" and say to me, deadpan, "funnier in your head?" no matter what we deal with, we deal with it together. due to work schedules, we don't get to see much of each other, but the times we are count for so much. i love you baby.

i've got the two most precious and unique and insanely fucking cute little boys, who can even crack me up when i am mid full-volume tirade. to wake up to them smiling and saying, "hello, daddy, how are you today?" is one of my greatest joys to complain about. haha. they have both currently decided to run outside and play in their pajama tops sans pants. i've no clue where they get the penchant for running around half-naked. i will have to corral them and probably give them a bath, and get them dressed. and you know what, that is beautiful. that seemingly silly little moment is grand in it's simplicity.

i can always count on my mom to be understanding, no matter what i come to her with. and she will always be the first to try and offer help, even when i'm not asking. she has stood by me through so much, some of which she didn't understand.

if i seperate the good and bad, my dad was fucking cool. and to avoid laying a club to that deceased equine, i'll leave the rest of those thoughts for my own enjoyment. but suffice to say, i think those issues are beginning to fade.

i'm surrounded by good friends and close family. the kind who will rally around the forces. the kind that i can count on for an ear, advice. the kind who will tell me i am being an asshole when i am, but who will also let me know if i had good reason. the kind who would jump into a pit to thump the big fucker with the mohawk who knocked my ass down, figuratively, of course.

i am filled and encompassed with love. when i look around me, i am buoyed up by smiling faces, and there's a smile on mine too. the other day, while i was in the funk, i had a moment and thought, "there's no clarence the loser-ass angel waiting to show me how fucked up everyone else's life would be without me. nobody would miss me if i was gone." and o my beloved nonexistant readers, and close friends, names of people who would definitely miss me if i was gone virtually flooded into my head.

ok, i can't see the keyboard for tears of joy and happiness and love, so i'm going to leave off being centered and fucking sappy here, and go wash up the boys and get their little nudist asses dressed.

and to everyone out there, i love you all, in one way or another.

darth sardonic

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

dancing around the fire

and of course, that title has nothing whatsoever to do with my post. i'm not even sure where it came from, just popped into my head.

so, i drug myself out back by the ear and kicked my own ass, and i promise that i am no longer in a funk. well, until two weeks from now, when it will rear its ugly head yet again. you can almost bank on it.

so i thought i might post a bit again (i know, i know, two in one day. i know. can't fucking believe it either.), and try and leave you with some slightly more positive stuff.

i think, in the past few days, i have watched disney's atlantis about a billion times (said with dr. evil pinky in corner of mouth thing, for dramatic affect), and i want to know why all the animals in the city of atlantis only vaguely resemble any animals that we today know. they have 6-legged lizards, for fuck's sake! did atlantis become darwin's waiting room? shit, all the animals got so sick of boffing each other they decided to step outside their respective species boundaries? come on. fucking lobsters with wings and dogs with giraffe's necks.

i have two toy lightsabers for my boys, and i find it mildly amusing that no. 1 (who, we seem to agree, is the evil genius/mad scientist type) always chooses the blue one, and no. 2 (mild-mannered, clark kent-type) ends up with the red one. just seems wrong.

and yes, val, i like beyond thunderdome because it actually has a bit of a plot. let's face it, the plot of mad max and road warrior can be summed up in one word each: revenge, and gasoline, respectively. i mean, yeah, there's a whole lot more to it, and they pioneered car-chase cinematography, but thunderdome has all that, and does a fair job of filling out the characters and making them feel real and 3-dimensional as well.

today was the boys' last day of school. i have mixed emotions about that. it makes me sad, because they won't be going back to that school in the fall. no. 1 has an adhesive mate in his class that has been his buddy since the first time he got on the school bus. i am also a little sad about the loss of free time in the morning for a few months, but a little excited at the prospect of trying to continue doing school-like activities with them, to keep them in the groove, so to speak. i guess we'll see how that goes.

in closing, i would like us to generate some positive energy, or send prayers to the god/gods of our choice for courtney. think she could use it a bit today.

darth sardonic

pardon me

i seem to be surrounded by people who want instant gratification. no. 2 is crying cause i told him he had to wait to have a cookie. not that he couldn't, he just had to wait a few minutes till i finished what i was doing. all around me. they also seem to have a tendency to want to bail on things when the going gets rough.

song lyrics that are pinging through my head:

"pardon me while i burst into flame."--pardon me, incubus

"this song is a poem to myself, it helps me to live"--poem, taproot

"anger is a gift"--freedom, rage against the machine

"i guess it's ok i puked the day away"--buried myself alive, the used

"we are the lost and we are found, no one can stop us or slow us down"--the image of the invisible, thrice

"it's not the time. it's not the place. it's not anything in particular."--disengaged, low pop suicide

"i like having hurt. so send the pain below, where i need it"--send the pain below, chevelle

"so i'll drive so fucking far away that i never cross your mind"--hate me, blue october

"and she says, 'won't you ever shine?'"--velocity, leuko

"hard, the way the very stuff falls out. hard, the way it makes you doubt. this thing keeps up, he complains, full of bile. not even star-crossed, just unlucky."--cigarette machine, codiene

when the ex used to piss me off so bad (and she knew exactly how to push my buttons) that my choices were hit her and keep going till she stopped moving, or flee the scene, i would always go on the lam for a few hours. she'd invariably shout after me, "don't drive angry" i say, fuck that. nothing is better than driving angry. especially if your car smells like pizza and you have a 5-speed with a quick response. fucking gorgeousness and gorgeousity, o my brothers.

and i know, my droogies and only friends, that this is a complete and utter cheater post. i realize that i have let others do my talking for me today. but right now i feel like a burned field: raw, empty, scorched, scratchy, and hard. so i hope you will forgive me and be patient until i come back with my usual sarcastic sneer and lay into something for our amusement and entertainment.

darth sardonic

Monday, June 12, 2006

the mongoose keeps turning

i didn't get the job.

now, if you'll excuse me i need to go drink myself into a stupor.

darth sardonic

you've got guts to spill

yesterday was a beautiful day, and i had a spare modicum of energy, and was eyeing the backyard/rainforest with a desire to at least begin on what's sure to be a long project.

so i donned my grubby gear, and the weedeater, and ventured out, sans shirt. (this seems like either a stupid, or narcissistic detail, but will end up playing at least minor role in the rest of the blog.)

i am a bit of a task-oriented motherfucker, and when i set my mind on getting something done, i really push to finish it. i had decided i wanted to knock down the three-foot grass with the weedeater and then rake. i may, dear sweet beloved nonexistant reader, have set my sites just a bit high.

because two hours later, when i was actually nearing the end of the weed wacking, and the spinning mechanism of the weedeater began to judder like a circular saw blade that has been bent out of true, and finally flew off, and i realized that my back was a lovely hue of hot pink, it ocurred to me that the likelihood of me accomplishing much more that day where nil.

however, the vast majority of the lawn is knocked down to a more manageable level, and my mom loaned me her weedeater to finish (but highly unlikely that it will be this week, o my little droogies, hahahaha), so soon to come, the rest of the leveling of a verdant forest story.

so a cool shower to soothe the sunburn, and cut down on the sneezing and burning eyes, and i was back in the game. or so i thought.

i am often amazed how a day can be like a mongoose in that in can turn on it's own tail. mine went from pretty fucking good to confused and off-center like that.

and then the aching muscles and sunburn got the better of me, and i am not ashamed to say i was dozing off at 9:00.

a full night's sleep later, and i am still feeling tired, and dehydrated, depsite my best efforts, but hopeful at least for today. my back is still tingly and sensitive, which makes this the worst burn i have gotten since i went from winter-white in the states directly to rock-lobster red in argentina in the space of 24 hours. damn, that was a bad burn. the skin of the bridge of my nose peeled off in one big thick sheet like a husk.

and i am tired. i went to bed early, and woke up late, and yet i am still wiped. a combination of too much time in the sun, exertion, and lingering sunburn, i think.

and as an aside, can i just say, albertsons is evil. and here's why: i stop in to pick up sugar, cause i'm going to need copious amounts of coffee today, and i just cannot, and i mean cannot drink it black, i have tried. and you have to walk past all the bakery stuff to get to the sugar. or anything else, for that matter. bastards. so i walk right past all the muffins and donuts, and screeeeeech, stop dead in my tracks. now, it's funny, cause part of me already knows that i am walking out of there with chocolate chip muffins, but i still argue with myself like i actually have some sort of choice in the matter. why do i do that? what the fuck is that? like the logical part of me is going to convince the rest of me that i am not going to walk out of fucking albertsons with a bag of sugar and muffins. i will buy a smaller bag of sugar, just to make sure i have enough cash to buy the muffins. so why even argue the point?

but, as a result, i think today's chances are at least better than average. funny how a cup of coffee and a chocolate muffin can perk your mood right up, eh?

and the word your looking for today, droogies, is alkaline trio.

darth sardonic

Sunday, June 11, 2006

a festival without festivities, a farmers market without farmers, and an argentine football game in korean

my wife is korean. or, more appropriately, she is a banana, as her asian friends say: yellow on the outside and white on the inside. despite this, she does a stellar job of maintaining her heritage and being in touch with her customs.

so yesterday was the korean-american festival in federal way. we drive out there, pay two bucks each to get in, fight with nos. 1 and 2, get inside, and the place is virtually empty except for numerous korean-americans. no kidding. there were two food booths, a drawing to win a toyota, (you woulda thought it would've been a kia, right?), and a korean drum band playing on a big stage (that was actually pretty fucking cool), and little else. i commented that if they had held the korean-american festival on south tacoma way, it would've been huge. then i thought about it for a second, and said, "actually, every day is korean-american festival day on south tacoma way."

so we nipped out of there early, and went to a nearby farmers market. lots of vendors' booths, including a local artist who painted worse than myself and charged more than i would, a fencing display complete with foil-weilders from a local high school pretending to impale each other (i stood nearby thinking en guard, take that, oh, curses, i am slain), and a traditional polish food booth with an enormous santa clause looking fella who seemed pleasantly overjoyed when i bounced my miniscule and surely-mispronounced polish off of him. at the very end, there were two booths of produce, dominated mostly by asparagus. where, then, i ask with my hands raised to the sky, were the rows and rows of ears of corn, plump raspberries still damp from the early-morning dew, the organically-grown tomatoes, the hothouse flowers and herbs? well, shit, if you don't know, i certainly don't.

since the wife felt disappointed by how dull the festival turned out to be, we decided to catch lunch at our favorite korean restaurant. so we donned our baseball gloves and headed out. (sorry, i know, i know, but sometimes the english language just strikes me as so bizaare--catch lunch? but it is a perfectly acceptable phrase. "here's the wind-up, and the pitch. oh man, that kim chee is everywhere!")

anyways, so while we're sitting there eating, i realize they are watching the world cup on the tv. i further realize that it is argentina playing. woohoo! then i realize that the announcers are speaking korean. and that i don't know who is winning. we flag down the waitress, and she informs us that argentina is beating the ivory coast 2-nil.

i'm afraid, my dear droogies, that i wasn't much of a conversationalist for the rest of the meal, barring under-the-breath phrases such as vamos, and dale, che! anda, anda flaco!, which wasn't helping anyone seated anywhere near.

but it certainly was one of those surreal moments that i so love in life.

and argentina won, 3-1. woohoo!

darth sardonic

Saturday, June 10, 2006

a post to lock in my nerd status...

today on the msn news whatever dealyhopper that they have when you log in, they've got some "article" about the 100 most auto-centric movies.

and as a tangent aside here, can i just say: who the cherry fuckstain comes up with these articles?!? like there are maybe 10 in a billion people who actually give a shit! if they hadn't used the particular picture that they did to accompany it, i would've never even noticed. for fuck's sake.

ok, train of thought is back on track. the photo accompanying this particular journalistic masterpiece is a scene shot from the opening car chase of mad max.

and boy oh boy, my beloved nonexistant readers, i love that particular trilogy. from the very first time i saw the road warrior.

then i think, shit, i am such a nerd. god, look at me.

so, by way of showing you what a huge nerd i still am, here are several of my favorite movies, in no preferential order:

the star wars trilogy. i have boxes of action figures and space ships, new and old, and whenever i find myself in a comic store, i usually end up buying more. many of the older ones i have my mom saved from when i was a kid. didn't i say she was fucking cool?

the mad max trilogy. cars, chases, post-apocalyptic survival. can't fucking beat that. and yes, i have a mad max action figure in my collection as well. no, i do not have tape on my glasses. yes, at one point i actually did.

a clockwork orange. not sure if this makes me a nerd, but it tends to make me a bit of an intellectual, heightened by the fact that i read the book long before i saw the movie. and we all know, intellectual=nerd.

star trek. yes, it is not usually allowed to be a fan of both star wars and star trek. and while i am a much bigger fan of han solo than mr. spock, i still dig them both.

bladerunner. i honestly think that maybe only fifty of us even saw this movie. i prefer the original, with the hard-boiled detective style voice-over and the extra scenes. no, i do not have a rick deckard action figure, and it is simply because i haven't found one yet. have thought seriously about making my own out of a han solo figure or something. if you know where i could find one, let me know.

as another aside, i have an actual indiana jones action figure from when i was a kid as well.

so there you have it, nerdiness galore. and yes, i did play dungeons and dragons once or twice as a preteen, but actually hated it, and anytime i see a warcraft game going on at a comic book store, i kinda shake my head a little and think thank god for music.

so i guess there is a little hope for me after all.

ps. yes, i will pass the nerdiness on to my kids, muahhahahahahaaaa.

darth sardonic

Friday, June 09, 2006


i dug the beatniks cause they inspired each other to write, and encouraged each other, and lended each other support and criticism, and in that vein, say hello to courtney's honey, validate, who just started his own blog because he liked what courtney was doing with hers.

give him a big non-existant reader welcome, and check out his stuff, it's incredibly good.

i'll have more for you soon.

darth sardonic

Thursday, June 08, 2006

my first field trip

today was my first field trip as a father.

no. 1's preschool had an excursion today to a science center about a block from his school. he seemed ultra-proud of himself, as he got to show off what he does at school on a normal day, and i have to say that i was more than duly impressed. and i started thinking again about how fucking lucky and blessed i am with my kids. then i started looking around at the other children in his class. no. 1 is in a developmental preschool, and most of the students in his class are considerably less functional. and with a burning behind my eyes and in the back of my throat, i thought for the millionth time, there but for the grace...

my boy scout experience and six weeks of basic training came in handy as we walked in a double-line to the science building. i was handed an pole with an orange flag, "stop" printed across the vinyl, and immediately thought, road guards, out!

at the center, we were going to learn about bugs. glass case displays with carefully-pinned beetles and butterflies were laid out for us to peruse, and fish, frogs, and hermit crabs mosied around their respective habitats.

we split into two groups, one to go outside and gather bugs, the other to talk to the major about the bugs on display in the lab.

i was in the group to go outside first, and we collected leaf bugs and spit bugs. one or two lucky kids captured ants.

then inside to look at mosquitoes, large plastic models of various bug heads, and more bugs in terrariums. no. 1 and i both held hissing cockroaches. (and i know some of you are saying "ew", but it was cool, and no. 1 laughed the whole time the roach was in his hand.)

as i watched my son getting excited over crabs and chrysali, i started to recapture that pure unadulterated joy of discovery that kids have. the feeling that everything is new, and exciting, and magical. how something as simple as an uninteresting bug the size of a pinhead is virtually full of wonder. i began again to feel my own awe at having been allowed to be a part of this child's (and my other's) life.

here's to many more field trips.

darth sardonic

Wednesday, June 07, 2006

new additions, same old song and dance

first things first, a warm welcome to courtney, a very good friend of mine, who has enjoyed my blog now for a bit, and only recently took the plunge to start her own, so you get to get in on the ground floor. and, she has an incredible knack for the literary. but don't take my word for it, check it out yourself.

secondly, o my droogs and much-beloved readers, i am a bit tired, and alot pensive, and feeling slightly connected to the universe again, and we all know what happens when i get like that. i plan on bawling my way through this post.

i wonder sometimes who and what i was in past lives. i have been told by a few different friends whose opinions i trust, that i have "an old soul". i guess, meaning that my spirit, the essence that is me, has been kicking round this marble for a bit. and i believe that. but i wish i knew more about the past me's as i feel that would lend incredible insight into the me now. and how those past me's tie in to the now me's friends and loved ones. would be interesting. i have no doubts that at some point i was a rat fucking bastard of the worst kind, at least in one life, cause that fucker still resides deep within me, and i fight him regularly, and only let him out when i need to do some ass-kicking. i also imagine that i played alot of practical jokes on jesus or mohammed or someone important, cause i kind of seem to get a cosmic teasing on a regular basis.

for some reason, i am thinking about my father alot today. i know, i know, it's like the guy who gets drunk and calls the same girl every time and leaves crying messages on her machine. but it is different this time. it's not confused, it's not sad, it's not fraught with pain and angst. i feel like he is close, today at least, like he's got my back, like he's laughing his damn ass off right now at that line. maybe it's just me, or maybe we really get to keep tabs on our loved ones, i like to think so. dad, i just want you to know, i love you. i might be ready to call you my hero again.

and, as always, that is followed by a deep prayer that i am a hero to my boys. and from somewhere i get an answer like i'm doing a pretty fucking good job, and that, my droogies, causes a new burst of tears. cause if i do only one thing right in this life, i want it to be that. so bad i can fucking taste it like bile in the back of my throat.

and now that i have purged excess water and salt, o my beloved, patient, and dear nonexistant readers, i have to drag myself from the center of the universe back to this house in the hairball in lakewood, cause i have a toilet that needs fixing, and i really oughtta try and get it done while little hands aren't begging to help.

you know what, fuck that. i'm in just the right mood to need that help. and wasn't i just saying i wanted to be that kinda dad? fucking right, mate. so i'm gonna drink some coffee, and me n the boys are gonna fix a toilet, and by christ, i'm not even gonna raise my voice at em when they're more in the way than i want.

thanks dad, for your help on that one.

darth sardonic

Monday, June 05, 2006


i have a feeling this post is going to be a short one, o my beloved non-existant readers, because no. 1 is attempting to argue with everything i say, or even think while i type. and he is just dying to type his name into the computer, which is all he does anymore anytime i sit down to type.

i can actually see cement in my garage now, and things seem to be getting put away in a rather speedy manner. of course, casually mentioning to my wife that no one else seemed to give a shit whether anything got unpacked or sorted out or put away has probably helped. but we still have members of our household who continue to not give a shit.

i also feel like the eyes and ears of this household. people say one thing to me, but i am just invisible enough that i get to see first hand what's really going on. i've got everyone's number in this house. on the flip side, for the most part, they seem to have no idea whether i am on the verge of an epiphany or a breakdown. maybe because i act very similar between the two.

it is possible that i am going to spend a little time attacking the tropical rainforest today, now that the weedeater is back up and running (though it is guaranteed to promptly give up the ghost when it views the state of the back yard!) i will keep a diary of the excursion, and post it here.

and now, o beloved and nebulous non-existant reader, i must leave off and get the kids off to school. o frabjous (sp?) day when they go to school full-time, yeah?

darth sardonic

Sunday, June 04, 2006

one-liners and no-brainers

reality tv is to reality as margerine is to butter, as sunny delight is to orange juice.

took no. 2 to get a professional haircut today. he cried like they were cutting his fingers off instead of excess tresses. and when they were all done, we were no longer able to mohawk his hair. we can spike the front, which is cute as hell, but will have to let it grow out more before we're back to the hawk.

funny how when no. 1 says he wants to draw, what he really means in he wants me to draw. spaceships, spiderman, buzz lightyear, trains. expanding his imagination one line at a time.

had to buy more twine for my weedeater. now, this is a two-parter: 1) why do they call it twine? i grew up in the country, twine is thick, rough, scratchy, and good for little more than bundling and binding. wire, string, cord. but twine, seriously? and 2) at the factory i am sure they have a machine that winds the twine onto the spool. and i am sure that machine doesn't have kids that want to "help".

in the movies, in high school, the girl that is always sticking up for the nerdy guy and coming to his rescue is also always hot. all i can say is; ?!?

currently, nos. 1 and 2 are arguing, loudly. i've no idea what they are arguing about. i will try to phonetically recreate it here, and maybe you can piece it together for yourself:

1: no, hammaga dig spyman cawasoo, not nossing.
2: REEEEaaawga spyman!
1: dugga veeyo games summatta boo spyman, okay?
2: NOOO aar
1: no poopy a poddy veeyo games wakkana so not nossing.

shortly thereafter i became deaf due to the piercing volume of no. 2's replies, and lost the thread of the conversation.

stay-tuned next week, when darth says, "anyways"--

darth sardonic

Friday, June 02, 2006

spiritual thought of the day

on a sign outside a church i pass on my way home from work: "if you can read this you can be forgiven"

so if you are blind or illiterate, you're fucked.

darth sardonic

be the bee

i stop into starbucks this morning to pick myself up a mocha and get a latte for my wife, and for some time now, starbucks has been doing some kind of promo thing with a new indie film coming out called akeelah and the bee.

this movie is about national spelling bees, i gather, and is sure to be riveting stuff, especially for the large fan base that spelling bees have. it's sure to be a regular chariots of fire for those who just can't get enough of the nonstop, edge-of-your-seat action that is a national spelling bee. i'm becoming a bit of a convert myself, and am hoping to get tickets to the spelling bee olympics. i hear the us team has a very good chance at the gold.

anyways, as part of the whole big promo thing, they have words that were the winning word from various spelling bees throughout the years printed on damn near everyFUCKINGthing, which means you can hardly enter the place without being bombarded by words like antediluvian (which i am now quite sure i have misspelled) and euonym (again, don't ask me if i actually got that one right--last time i was in a spelling bee, i didn't have acne or pubes and i lost on the word "awkward").

so, here's my problem then. as a person who is fascinated by language in its many forms, i find myself thinking occasionally, "hey, i should know what that word means. furthermore, i should attempt to occasionally use it in my daily, if for no other reason than to amuse myself. and yet i cannot remember what its definition, or even how to use it in a sentence."

now, you would think that if they were going to drop all these big words on you, they would give you a clue as to their meaning. but i have looked everywhere for definitions. i have even flipped my cup upside down thinking they might have done some kind of kids' magazine style the-answers-are-upside-down-at-the-bottom-of-the-page thing, only to cover myself in hot brown fluid. (no, not really, fuck's sake, gimme some kinda credit, jesus. but i bet you're still laughing, eh?)

so i get aggravated, cause i want to know what the word means. and i have, and know how to use, a dictionary, but everytime i say to myself, "i should look that up when i get home." by the time i reach home, it has completely left my mind until the next time i pick up a mocha and get pulchritude again. and that particular word i know i should know, and i know it is a cool word that i could totally use on a daily basis just to annoy people. like detritus. but anyways.

darth sardonic