Monday, July 24, 2006

therapy

before i get started on today's silliness, i just want to throw this out there: ever been really low, like wish i would die, actually thinking bout doin it to myself low, and someone you thought would stand by you actually kicked you while you were down by making it about themselves? yeah, sure sucks.

but that is neither here nor there, o beloved readers. yesterday, i was starting to have one of those days. everything felt wrong, and i was morose and mopey for absolutely no reason whatsoever. it was shaping up to be fucking ugly, o my droogs and only friends, when a magical thing happened.

i went in the back yard to have a water fight with my kids.

we have, no shit, a veritable arsenal of water weaponry. and we tucked right in. nothing beats the blues like hosing your kids down, and having them squirt you in the face. the sun glinting off of droplets of water caught in your eyebrows, your kids squealing with a combination of fear and laughter, standing bare-chested in the sun, supersoakers in each hand, laughing maniacally as your kids dive behind walls and bushes and drop you like a scene from platoon.

no. 2 actually directed a rather heavy stream of water directly into my ear while i reloaded a gun for no. 1. the wife got in on the action, using the hose to send jets of chilly water across my back (which you know, if you have ever found yourself hunkered down in the middle of a rather agregious bit of water battling, is the most vulnerable part of the human anatomy), and ultimately, i rose victorious from the fray. that's not to say that my family didn't soundly kick my ass, it's just that the funk that was building behind my eyes disippated like mist in the wind.

the kids are scared of me now, though. not sure if it's cause i shaved my hair into a mohawk, or i stand in front of the mirror with the supersoakers saying, "you talking to me?"

heh heh.

till the next one, all.

darth sardonic

Thursday, July 20, 2006

i see nozzink, i know nozzink

saturn ions are nice, but i don't think i would buy one. on the flip side, enterprise rent-a-car is completely badass, and i would recommend them again and again to friends.

can't wait to get my 5-speed prelude back, sans dent, though.

we own a black leather couch/loveseat living room set. is this significant? i don't know, you tell me when the post is done. damn, people wanting all the details up front, hell.

my kids love to go outside early in the morning and play. by "play", i mean tunnel out of the backyard. after a mere fifteen minutes they will come in looking like the pictures of kids working in coal mines in england in the early 1900's. just throw a slouch cap on em, and a ratty black suit coat and a collarless shirt.

this isn't really a problem. it actually amuses me. even when they get in the water first, then the dirt, and come in looking a bit like the swamp thing.

i distinctly remember going out after a good rain, and seeking out mud to play in. then coming home and saying as innocently as possible to my mom and dad on the front porch, "it looked solid when i stepped on it."

so i always swore that i would be cool with my kids getting dirty. and mostly i am.

but yesterday, looked over at them as they watched some tv (on a much-needed break from escaping from the confines of our yard), and i realize something is not right.

what is it? one of those things you can't quite put your finger on. damn.

then it hits me. my black couch is brown.

apparently, my kids came in from their reenactment of claude rains to roll all over my couch like dogs in some kind of "this is mine, this is mine" fucking frenzy.

so, i find myself in the odd duality of understanding why my parents got so pissed, and understanding why my kids love it so much.

so i had them try to help me clean the couch, while telling them in the stern voice that the couch is off limits after mining in the backyard. i don't think it did any good whatsoever, since they are currently jumping around on said couch as i write this.

i'm still daily amazed that as a race we survive past the age of 5.

darth sardonic

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

life continues spinning like a warped 45, slightly off-kilter

i love, and i mean love making people laugh.

which brings me to my next thing, seagypsy, how are you gonna pay me to mow your lawn? heh heh.

which brings me to my next thing, our lawn is finally to a normal level. it's still got patches that were flattened over that are a little long, like tufts of hair on a kid's head after a bad parental haircut, or maybe after he got gum in it. (not that that has ever happened to me! yeah, right.) i might even be able to cut it this weekend with the bag on the mower. yay! the battle is finally over.

which does not in any way have absolutely anything to do with my next thing. the past weekend we took the boys to the beach nearby in stielacoom. now, not as if seeing crabs, starfish, a clam (who had the audacity to squirt water at me when i lifted the rock and then sit there looking at me like, "what the fuck?!? you always come along pulling the roof off of people's houses? fucker.") and two baby seals wasn't enough, it's also near active train tracks. you actually cross a footbridge over the trains to get to the beach.

and something, o dear beloved and surely laughing-at-me-behind-my-back nonexistant readers, fucking creeped me the fuck out about that bridge. it was well supported. it had a high chainlink fence barrier on each side. but i felt like i was gonna fall on passing trains, my droogies. every time the kids switched sides of the bridge to ogle the passing cars, something would get all simultaneously hot and cold inside me and i would fight the insane urge to snatch them away from the edge.

now why that is, i don't know. i don't mind heights whatsoever, as long as i feel supported. for some reason, the stupid overreactive part of my brain, the neighborhood where phobias hang out (and the ole fear of heights guy must be one lonely motherfucker cause i really am not scared of much else) apparently kicked in on this one, big time. i guess it was the chainlink fence thing. being able to see everything going on below my feet. who knows?

and of course, the kids wanted to see every last one of the goddamn 4 billion fucking cars on the ever-loving train, dashing back and forth across the narrow bridge as the train moved slower than a slug embedded in molasses going uphill in january (and for those of you who have ever embedded a slug in molasses and sent it uphill in the winter months, you know that is ssslllllllllooooooooooooooow), while daddy broke into cold sweats and started shaking just like the guys who are about to explode in scanners.

so it was fun.

darth sardonic

Friday, July 14, 2006

big helper

so i woke up this morning to no. 2 kicking me in the back, not such a nice prospect since yesterday i did something to it that made it feel like a board painted in acid.

get the boys settled in with cereal and such, they like to start the morning off right by playing with their thomas the evil tank engine with plans to take over the world toys. usually by running them right off of cliffs and such.

anyways, i take this moment to shower and shave and whatnot. yes, i said whatnot. not sure why, but hey!

this is always a potentially scary project, because my kids can get into alot of trouble in a very short period of time.

so i make periodic trips out to check on them (and yes, there have been occasions where i have run out naked and dripping wet. yes, go ahead and take a moment to hotpoker your eyes out, i'll wait.), and am always extremely nervous as to what i will find when i get out there.

today, i come out to find no. 1 changing no. 2's poopy diaper.

no. 1 does the "oh fuck, daddy caught me!" look, and instantly begins to try and talk his way out of the shit he is sure is about to fly.

"no. 2 poopy diaper, star wars spaceship, green grobrin, needa change pooooopy."

obviously, his mouth moves faster than his brain when it comes to trying to bail himself out of trouble.

all i could do, dear beloved nonexistant readers, was laugh. and laugh. and eventually change the diaper and clean up the mess. and laugh some more.

cause, honestly, it was the cutest thing i've seen in quite some time.

but i'm seriously thinking about showing him how to do it properly and leaving him to it. hahahaha. just kidding.

darth sardonic

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

forget it, i take it back

now that my computer has kind of returned to being my fucking computer, i decided to go through my limewire and pitch all the shit that had been added by others to which i will never listen.

some of it was worth a listen though, and i actually held on to some stuff cause i decided i would listen to it again. but the point of this kind of stupid rambling is that i spent alot of time listening to all the songs i have by alkaline trio. i sure am diggin on them lately, o beloved nonexistant reader.

and nothing is better than looking over your shoulder from the computer, and seeing your two sweet, handsome boys pumping their arms and jumping around the living room. laughing their little asses off.

forget it, i take it back... there is one thing better, and that's laughin yourself and leaping around the living room floor with them. stupid kid blowing the computer speakers behind us as we leap around, fall down, toss elbows, skank.

i may or may not be a good dad. there are probably a million things i could show them, teach them, do for them. i will say this: when my kids grow up, they will be able to say, "yeah, dad showed us how to do some hardass battles with supersoakers, skip rocks, catch a ball, draw, but most of all, he taught us how to fucking mosh!!" (and they will get extra kudos in my book if they say it exactly like that) and that might be the coolest thing ever.

forget it, i take it back... the coolest thing would be if they would be able to honestly say that i taught them an appreciation and respect for their fellow man, a love for art in it's many forms, how to mosh, how to hold their own in a supersoaker battle, how to treat a woman, how to stand up for themselves, how to embrace life. that would be the coolest thing ever.

and you know what, i think i'm doing a pretty fucking good job at it.

and that is the better, coolest thing ever.

darth sardonic

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

as i burn another page...

thank god for string cheese.

not that that really has anything to do with anything. most of the stuff that finds its way in here doesn't really.

was sicker'n fuck yesterday, still feeling tired, drained, and vacant today. did, however, scrounge up enough energy to give the house a thorough cleaning, seeing as yesterday it was allowed to fall into a horrible state of disarray.

feel like i'm doing a bit of reassessing today. like i wonder what exactly i should be doing in each aspect of my life. not getting too many answers, though, as it turns out, so i am trying to postpone this heavy conversation with myself until i can ingest a gin n tonic and really tuck into it.

and while i keep dodging this big into-the-wee-hours conversation with myself, i keep making repeated forays into the kitchen for grapes. yes, grapes. because the kids want grapes. of course, now, they are all gone, so the forays have stopped, but not the requests. and while i am foraging in the fridge (let's see how many other words beginning with "f" i can toss in--just be thankful i haven't tossed in my favorite, heh heh) for things to feed the bairns, i see string cheese.

boy, string cheese sounded good. and it was.

so i guess it does have something to do with it after all, eh?

not much, but then, neither is this post.

darth sardonic

Sunday, July 09, 2006

riddle me this...

why would a beautiful woman go to the trouble of shaving her legs and not bother with her armpits? if you wanna be granola, let everything grow. the armpits are such a small patch of skin, the legs are vast. maybe i'm just and idiot. ok, change "maybe" to "probably".

i must be getting older or the tellers at my local supermarket are getting younger. told the wife, "12, 13, that one down there with the lip gloss, 10" i'm beginning to wonder about child labor laws around here.

overheard a conversation today between a pretentious neo hippie jetsetter chick and the aforementioned hairy-pit/shaved-legs girl where pnhjc says, "i've been craving meat lately" (i am under the impression that she is a raw veggies vegan or some other such load of tripe. or not, i guess, in this case). wanted to lean over and say, "that's because we're fucking omnivores, you holier-than-thou twat!! we're meant to eat flesh. the whole purpose of eye teeth is to tear meat (dogs, cats, the like). come talk to me when we've got babies that are born with only a double-row of molars. in the meantime, have a medium rare steak."

which brings up two very important points. i may have talked about these before. who knows? more importantly, who cares? point one: veggies have feelings too. not sure where i read about a study to test reactions to stimuli in plants and vegetables. they hooked up electrodes to carrots and sundry other comestibles and got some sort of biorythm baseline, and then shocked the fuck out of them. yes, the little needle/pen thingies went apeshit. they yelled at them. again. seems like cabbage is extra sensitive, gets all teary when you mistake it for lettuce. anyways, the point being, despite the fact that they don't have eyes to look longingly at you with, or mouths to make mournful sounds with, when you violently rip a carrot from it's natural home of the soil, wash it under scalding water, slap it on a cold plate, and bite enormous hunks out of it's flesh, the entire time it is screaming, "what the fuck have i ever done to you, you fucking overzealous greenpeace treehugging bitch?!!!!?" so i move that we eat soil. seems to work for plants. oh, wait, there are living microbes in the soil that might not appreciate being masticated and introduced to the harsh environment of the stomach. plastic might be a good alternative food source.

the other point is this: back in the day, before everyone got hip to how cool the south american tea, mate, is, the only place i could find it was health-food stores. so i've got requiem for a dream-esque jared leto guy telling me the reason i am so unhealthy is because i eat meat and veggies that have not been raised organically. excuse me? is that your hair falling out in patches? are your eyes sposed to be that sunken?

he tells me he takes vitamin supplements. maybe you wouldn't fucking need to if you ate like a fucking human being. you can't just turn your back a few million years of evolution.

and another thing (after i did my diatribe about veggies being creatures with feelings too, and the whole eyetooth thing), so fucking what if they are genetically splicing fish genes into my tomatoes to make em shinier (they aren't, this is a bit of scare-tactic organic fertalizer), i eat fish still. so if you made me a halibut filet and stuck tomato slices on top, would that not be the same fucking thing?

so, tonight for dinner, the flesh of lesser dumb beasts with a side of screaming greens.

darth sardonic

Saturday, July 08, 2006

impaled

earlier today, i was staring out the window next to my computer.

through the branches of several conifers around my house, i could see a patch of clear blue sky.

i thought, "if i pushed off of the window sill hard enough, i bet i could fly right through those branches into that patch of blue."

and, o beloved nonexistant reader, i wouldn't stop until i found a place where i felt i belonged.

someday i'll wish upon a star and wake up where the clouds are far behind me. where trouble melts like lemondrops high above the chimney tops...

darth sardonic

p.s. o beloved, patient, sometimes sad, but always there-for-me nonexistant reader, i was going to leave the post just like that. but just after i posted it, something happened.

no. 2 came out of his bedroom. he's supposed to be sleeping. but i go to lay him back down, and the movie he's watching is messed up.

no. 2 says "oh no dada, oh no."

i fix it.

he says, "bankie dada, bankie."

i get it.

he says, "tank you dada."

and it hits me, i fucking belong right here.

thanks for allowing me to discover it all on my own.

ds

Wednesday, July 05, 2006

too much good stuff

i am pretty sure that title is a tag line for some major company's add campaign, though i can't remember for the life of me which, so stay tuned next week when darth sardonic is locked in a legal battle over the use of their stuff.

but this weekend has been alot of good stuff.

sat and sun, my wife and the kids and i went down to the oregon coast and stayed in her godparents beach house. the cool sea air, walks on the beach with the kids running around laughing, scribbling stuff in the sand, some time away just the four of us; turned out to be the perfect recipe for unplugging and letting many of the cares and worries fall away, and rejuvenating ourselves.

on wed, before we toddled off to rockaway beach, an old friend of mine, h, (aka anne, from my pals list), called to say to she was going to be in the area for some time, and could she visit for a couple days.

so arrangements were made, and on the third, i picked her up from the airport. it's been 11 years since i have seen her. so the third and fourth were spent catching up, and checking seattle out, drinking vodka tonics, buying cherries at pikes, and watching p and q nearly blow their damn fingers off with fireworks that slightly resemble something being misused in the current war in the middle east. and it seemed so surreal how 11 years felt like 2 weeks instead. like no time had passed whatsoever.

later today, i will drive her to her brother's and life will return to normal, and i will putz about this little cornershop of cyberspace (hahaha, just had a vision of myself actually living in the confines of this blog, sweeping up, chasing the kids, coming up with stuff to write, all within some imaginary space that doesn't look anything like the big white-out thing in the matrix. and by the way, i need coffe, and lots of it. hey, presto, a million little steaming mugs of java come screaming in as far as the eye can see.), and go back to doing what i do.

and writing about it here.

darth sardonic