To a hopeless cause, I sold my soul

random nonsequitors for the common man:

just a minute ago i saw a commercial for something related to the removal of leg hair on female homo sapiens. the lady was shaving her legs in a mountain brook, all flowy and gurgling. at the end of the commercial, she seems particularly jazzed about the potential staph infection she might have given herself by shaving in rotted trout eggs, algae, and beaver shit.

cause, o my beloved non-existant readers, i personally grew up in mountains, and as an eagle scout, did more than my fair share of camping in said mountains, and know from experience that mountain brooks are not even remotely as virgin and clean as madison avenue makes them appear.

having crusty blood in your ear has serious "sick fun" potential: "shit, man, your music actually made my ears bleed! check it out." i had to pick up a refill for no. 2 a day or two after my surgery, and actually thought, "if this crazy lady gives me any trouble, i hope a gout of gooey blood just pops right out of my ear right as i am beginning to get angry. i could be like, 'look!! look what you've done!' bet i could get all kindsa freebies. wonder if i could make myself bleed from the ears on demand?"

around the cove, guitar hero seemed a common christmas gift. b got his kids guitar hero: world tour, which includes guitars, vocals, and drums. yeah, you can imagine we have been seriously fucking up some cool tunes lately. but yesterday, nos. 1 & 2 really wanted to play, so we set them up, along with the other kids, and had all the kids rotate through a small set of songs. no. 1 did pretty good on the drums (we set them up so all they have to do is hit anything when the line crosses) and no. 2 rocked some bass, but the highlight of the night was watching my oldest sing "the one i love" by r.e.m.

now, it is possible that no. 1 has heard this song. i dig older r.e.m. but he sure as shit hasn't heard it often enough to sing it from memory, unlike, say, "my friend peter" (I don't care who you've been dining with these days/It's more than fair/Much rather be drinking anyways) or "don't call me white" (Does this mean I have to take such shit/For being fairskinned? No!) or "blitzkrieg bop" (Hey ho, let's go/Hey ho, let's go). that didn't stop him from hunching over, one foot forward, eyes and mouth wide ala johnny rotten, meatfisting the mic and putting his mouth millimeters away as he belted out "fiiiiiiiihiiiiiiiihiiiiiiiiiii errrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!" he definitely has rock star potential.

and since we had removed the colored buttons on the necks of the guitars from the equation, i noticed no. 2 noodling a long, convoluted eddie van halen solo high on the neck as he moved the strum tab back and forth, a look of near-boredom and "i do this shit all the time" dancing across his face.

since i have been incapacitated some, my mom has been doing alot of laundry and dishes. yesterday she says, "honey, can you fold these clothes?" while the cove was getting ready for a little shindiggity and my wife was rolling lumpia. i mean, i really wanted to help and do my part but--

"i would, mom, but that would leave nos. 1 and 2 outside with a fire and only a ring of drunk men to watch them."

i hope everyone had a wonderful christmas, and whatever other holidays you might celebrate. here's to a prosperous and wonderful new year!

darth sardonic