Wednesday, December 27, 2006

ole stewball was a racehorse...

and i wish he was mine

we have mostly abolished the binkie in my household. we simple keep a couple around for nighttime, and the kids easily give them up in the am.

the other day, my wife bought a couple new ones, "just in case."

so a few days ago, no. 1 got up to go potty, and managed to lose the binkie out of his mouth and into the toilet right after he flushed.

a look of distress crossed his face as he bounced up and down and said "oh no! oh no! oh no!"

and zip! before anyone could even react, it was gone. the distress became full-on panic as he realized his beloved binkie had been sucked away. "it's gone! it's gone!" he shouted, as gigantic tears filled his extra-large black doe eyes.

i didn't know whether to burst out laughing, or burst into tears, the scene was so tragicomic. i opted for sympathetic concern, and quickly ran to fetch the new binkies, giving him his choice between the blue or the white.

he calmed quickly, and went back to bed.

the maintenance guy the next day smirked as he said, "so you decided to give up your pacifier, huh?"

no. 1 wanted to dig up the back yard to find his lost binkie, as he was sure that must be where it was.

no. 2 has lately been cultivating his rebellious side, saying "no!" to anything i suggest. i often come up with complete gibberish just to see if i can get him to say things like, "no, no rammalammadingdong!" or "no alapeanutbuttersandwiches!" i gotta get my fun somewhere, right?

and santa brought me absinthe for christmas. it's not the north-slope-trip-weed version of the drink, but definitely a good start. so i plan on being a bit tanked and maybe a tad green new year's eve, which, by sheer dumb luck, i managed to phanagle off.

more bulletins as news warrants.

oh, and if you're wracking your brain, peter, paul, and mary. i know, i know, just when you think you got me figured out.

darth sardonic

p.s. a game for the one or two of you out there actually reading this (cause i have no life and actually think anyone gives a shit, hahahaha): find the connection between a line involving a four-letter word and the numeric equivalent of a quarter of one hundred, as delineated by the pogues, and the aforementioned song by p, p, n m. do your homework, and it's pretty easy. and no, the connection is they both involve horses with bizarre names.

Thursday, December 21, 2006

city sidewalks, busy sidewalks

my youngest eats his food with his entire face.

he walks up to me and says, "dada, wan' chocalit cayk!"

i reply, "looks to me like you've already been, silly."

the kids and the cat spend all day begging me for more food. they have barely finished scarfing whatever i have brought them and wiped their face (or, in the case of my youngest, let it congeal) before they are asking for yet another thing. i have worn a rut between the kitchen and the living room.

however, it never fails that as soon as mom arrives home, they greet her at the door with cries of "oh my god, mommy, we're starving! we're so hungry. why is daddy such a bastard?"

luckily, my wife already knows that they have barely paused for breath before launching into another culinary offensive, or it's quite possible that i would've been given a stern talking-to at the very least.

i love the holiday season. not sure why. i guess i regress a bit to kiddom and get all kindsa dazzled by the lights and stuff. i try to avoid any place where a serious amount of moshpit shopping might be occuring, cause this usually throws it right off, and even though i know santa isn't going to hurl himself down the chimney laden with star wars action figures and plastic weaponry emblazoned with a bright red tip to let the world know it isn't real, i still enjoy the season.

and i seem to not be the only one, as my tips of late will decry. which is good, cause february sixth, at noon, my tattoo artist scott is gonna emblazon me with a devil girl and an angel girl and god-knows what else, and i need all the dispensable cash i can muster.

so i would wish a merry happy whatever fucking thing to you and yours, and many more to come. hope life finds you well and i hope we can share with those who aren't doing as well as ourselves.

darth sardonic

(who is, at heart, a big fucking softie. hahaha.)

Wednesday, December 20, 2006

is he really that daft?

why does our president always look like he is confused? ever address, every press conference, every photo, he looks like he's wondering how the fuck he got there in the first place.

maybe he is wondering who is going to get to turn those crayon drawings into his memoirs.

the news said he has finally said that we are not winning in iraq. what? after the five (or was it six?) stunning victories we had early on, now we're not winning? oh, you're a quick one dubya. the rest of the world has known for quite some time.

then he said he wants the new secretary of defense to work on beefing up the troops, as they are spread thin between the war in afghanistan and the war in iraq. no fucking duh! jesus fucking christ, and who's goddamn fault would that be? oh, garsh, not mine, dubya would say. couldn't possibly be because i launched a prolonged offensive in a country that was basically minding its own fucking business while i was attempting to get the guy who attacked us on our own soil "dead or alive"? nah, that couldn't be it.

maybe he looks confused because he is wondering what we're all going to do when he leaves a huge fucking mess in two seperate countries in the hands of a new president and the people while he retires in style to a ranch in texas.

i just don't know, but i want to vacation in the land in which he lives, sounds like a fun place.

darth sardonic

Monday, December 18, 2006

why'd you leave your keys up on the table?

cause you wanted to.

i just wrote this incredibly mean and heavy post, needed to vent my spleen a bit i guess.

when it was done, i felt much better, and decided to trash it. but let me just say this, as a summation of all that was said earlier: if you pride yourself of being blunt, not caring about others' feelings, and "saying it like it is" (which i find really means "saying like it is within the confines of one's own skull"--or, as i used to think about my stepmom, "life is so much easier when everything is black and white."), then you really ought not to be offended, insulted, or hurt when one of your friends says you have no tact. tact is the polar opposite of blunt, not caring about others' feelings, and saying it like it is.

phew, glad to get that out of the way. (and no, the person to which i am referring doesn't, to the best of my knowledge, even know this little desertous waste of the world wide web even exists, so it is most definitely not any of my beloved non-existants.)

we went nearly twelve hours without electricity. western washington got virtually pounded by a windstorm that dropped an incredible amount of debris all over and kept many people in the dark and cold for days. we lit candles, handed out blankets, and played pictionary with friends. oh, and yeah, i drove an insane amount of pizzas to addresses that were hard to find because i couldn't read the numbers on the side of the house. our store was one of two out of the like, twelve in the area that had power, so we had alot of loaners from all the powerless stores. it was fun.

slowly the fallen trees and branches and signs are getting cleaned up and life is already, for the most part, back to normal. no one i know personally was hurt, though a few neighbors' cars were dented by larger falling branches.

no. 1 never did get to see how bob the builder ended, but i am sure he has already forgotten about that.

i am often impressed and awed by mother nature and her power. still believe it is only a matter of time until she wipes completely from the face of the earth.

in the meantime, have fun, talk to you soon, hahahaha.

darth sardonic

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

it's the insignificant details that make the biggest difference

i lead a charmed life.

yesterday, for probably the first time in my entire pizza delivery career, i was excited and relieved to get to work.

because the alternative was the e.r. getting my nose reset at the very least.

a few weeks ago, i tagged a pothole that was something more like a black hole and did some minor damage to my rim, and even axle, and threw the car way out of balance. so we took it to les schwab to get the tires rebalanced and the rim fixed, and while we were there, they told us we oughtta replace the front tires, because they were getting baldy (i was sorta aware of this, as ofttimes during the rain, i would spin my tires a bit in first gear, but had been hoping to hold off a little.)

we shrugged, said, "eh", and put two new tires on the card.

they played a key role in me not getting some qt with my local hmo.

on my way to work last night, i was driving down a major thoroughfare of lakewood, clipping along at 35, about to go through a green light, when some dippy twat decided that he could make the left turn (yield) in front of me and the other fella in the lane next to me so that he could go to the mall and pick up the last ps3 or whatever.

i was a few feet from the intersection when he made his turn, so you can imagine i slammed on my brakes like crazy.

my life did not flash before my eyes.

these thoughts, did, however, dash through my mind:

it's raining

where's the horn on this fucking steering wheel

i hate lakewood

if the airbag breaks my thumbs, i hope when they heal i can still play

why don't they make crash test dummies that tense up, grimace, and extend their arms to full length just before crashing

i hope that laughing brunette lady who is completely unaware of the plight the driver has put her in doesn't splatter brains and blood all over my windshield

thank god we replaced the tires

all in the time it took me to say "oh f" and push my feet against the brakes and my hands against the wheel so hard i had to adjust the seat after i got to work, and had a tight spot in my neck for most of the night.

when i arrived at work, i was still shaking pretty heavily.

getting cut off seemed to become the theme for the night, as well, since it happened in one form or another about three more times.

i figured out what the problem is, though: the topper i put on my car, that i thought says (your favorite pizza joint) actually says, "i have good brakes and new front tires, so please, feel free"

here's to many more, o my beloved non-existant readers.

darth sardonic

Friday, December 08, 2006

i know, i know

yes, i have known for some time that lola's old blog was defunct. i, your humble narrator, have been diligent in pursuing the new and improved cheating death once again and now present the new url in my pals list.

oh, who the fuck am i kidding?!? first of all, it is purely selfish, i think lola is an insanely talented writer. and no one reads my shit anyhow, let alone clicking the links in my pals list to see what is going on there. and in most cases, very little new is happening anyhow.

the word you are battling to come up with with is anyfuckingways...

darth sardonic

Thursday, December 07, 2006

further into the fog i fall...

by the time i leave for work, it is dark, and a heavy mist has settled over the land, blurring lights and making edges fuzzy.

i walk through the door of work, and as my dopey manager informs me i am routed and that i am one of four drivers for the whole evening, i idly wonder what gunpowder tastes like and would the flavor arrive at my brain before the bullet.

i go to find a uniform shirt, and discover that someone forgot to start the dryer, and the only clean shirts are the ones left by an ex-manager who was like a shrinky-dink version of a person. like someone took a regular-sized human being, colored her in, and popped her in the oven for some time. needless to say, there was a snowball's chance i was going to ever get myself into one of them, let alone be able to move afterwords.

so i set out clad in my uniform hat, my khakis, and my clockwork orange t-shirt. little alex, bowler on, fake eyelashes aglow, evil sneer intensified, emblazoned across my chest. i thank whoever is running the show upstairs i didn't wear my nobody cares: now get the fuck away from me t-shirt, on which i had actually paused when picking out something to wear to work.

another employee sarcastically says, "buckle up and drive safe." as i zip out the door with my pies. i reply back, "sod that! i am going to find the nearest fucking telephone pole."

(as an aside, i cracked up a customer on my way out the door recently, as everyone called out the requisite "buckle up and drive safe" and i hollered back, "the more i work here, the less i wanna.")

and into the haze.

i am as melancholy as the opening piano notes of alkaline trio's time to waste, as angry as the bassline to low pop suicide's disengaged, as irritated as chino's vocals on deftone's be quiet and drive as he strips his vocal chords out screaming "i don't care where, just far"

at the tail-end of a ridiculously late, convoluted trip to drop off more than my normal fair share of pizzas, i find myself on a side road in one of the ritzier neighborhoods of our area.

i apologize for the lateness of the pizza, and jokingly tell the customer that i will look at her credit card since she went to the trouble of getting it, but that mostly i don't really care. she laughs and says that any time she doesn't get it, the driver wants to see it. i refer to myself as a "less-than stellar employee" and she laughs.

i feel better.

the street is quiet and dark except the dim glow of porchlights and multihued christmas lights, rubbed soft like pastels by the thick fog. i stand by my car a moment, breathing deep the moist, crisp air. i think about the last customer's laugh, and smile despite myself.

i think i should hurry and get back. then i think, nah, this is nice. everyone is inside, silence prevails, the soft lights alleviate the dark just enough, the air bites my lungs.

i lean against my car, and smile, and watch my breath come in puffs of steam that twist, bend, and fade away into the mists.

after but a few moments, i reenter my car, take the long way back to work, and continue what ends up being a long and aggravating night.

darth sardonic

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

no more than your usual dose of nonsense

if anyone ever asks you, the nonexistant reader, to describe this blog...

excuse me a moment.

there, that's better. had to take a second and catch my breath and wipe my eyes. damn, i crack myself up.

but let's pretend for a moment that you and your friends have nothing better to talk about.

again, excuse me.


just tell them it is a blog about a hitchcockian protagonist with a kafkaesque life, who confronts his lynchian existance with a voltairian flair, all presented with kubreckian simplicity and elan.

or just tell 'em it's funny as shit, and still makes ya think.


darth sardonic