i am such a lameass

no. 1: "daddy, why do we have pee-pees an' butts?"

me: "so we can go potty."

no. 1: "why do we have school?"

me: "so you can learn to read and write."

no. 1: "why do we have potties in da house?"

me: "so we don't have to go outside to go potty."

in my (failed) first year of college, i often thought my roommate might be a vampire. he had early classes, so would be gone when i would wake up. if the day was sunny (which it was alot), i would throw the blinds up to bathe the room in sunlight. (i love the sun!) when i would come home from class, my roommate would be at his desk studying, the blinds pulled down tight and the room plunged into a dusk that made it hard to see at all.

it is an absolutely gorgeous day out today, so i run through the house throwing open blinds like a crazed maniac. by the time i return, the living room blinds are redrawn (i have a mental image of a piece of paper, eraser crumbs still scattered across it, and a blind penciled in where the original blind had been sketched. english is stupid). i ask no. 1 why he closed the blinds.

"i didn't want to get hot."

this from the kid who wears long-sleeved shirts incessantly. go figure.

a short short (and unfinished and likely to remain that way) short story i concocted the other day when i was bored:

"can i lay down with you?"

"huh?" dan opened his eyes, blinking hard against the sun, to see the owner of the female voice standing over him with a towel and a book.

"can i toss my towel down here next to yours?"

she was standing near his head, and his eyes noted the pink toenails before working their way up her long, tanned legs. she was standing with the classic soft s curve in her back that women employed to thrust the three things that they thought men wanted directly into vision, so his eyes were drawn next to her pudenda, wrapped unabashedly in a triangle of pink cloth, followed by the pink jewel in her navel, and then perky breasts, similarly clad in pink triangles, and finally full, pink lips and his own dual reflection where her eyes would normally be when the sun went down.

"of course, it's a free beach."

the end, sorta. maybe she flirts with him before robbing him blind? maybe he flirts with her before her huge biker boyfriend beats fuck out of him? maybe they fall in love whilst getting caught up in an international plot involving espionage and subterfuge, and rife with double-crosses? most likely, it advances no further than that, because dan is too shy to attempt a play, or even a good line, and she just wanted a quiet place to lay out without being bothered in the first fucking place, and dan seemed just the kind of quiet shy fella to leave her in peace.

why are the whos down in whoville in the old chuck jones cartoon singing to the late great surrealist, dali? i swear, they are singing "salvadore, salvadore, welcome christmas, bring your light."

as far as the interview goes, i couldn't have done it any better and still be yours truly. that is to say, i said a few things that most interviewees probably wouldn't, but then, i am not most interviewees, am i? they said i should hear back in a couple of weeks.

but i will tell ya, o my beloved non-existant readers, between my "impressive resume" and my old supervisor and friend putting in a good word, and me doing the interview to the absolute best of my own (skewed and warped) ability, if i don't get this job, it will be because the time/space continuum would otherwise be fucked and humanity as we know it would cease.

not much else to report so far at this, the last stop before falling into the ocean and being eaten by sharks.

darth sardonic

some people are just small, hard peas

sometimes i think it's me...

we here at not even star-crossed, just unlucky strive to bring you the best in blogger technology at regular intervals. if you have found our service to be lacking, please press...

heh heh, saw on one of my pal's blogs (can't remember off-hand which, and can't be arsed (what a great turn-of-phrase that is--i think it was pixie's blog i saw that in, totally gonna steal that too) to find out just now) that they had me linked as "not even star-crossed, just unlucky" as opposed to "darth sardonic", and the paragraph above totally popped into my head like the recording you might get when you call your insurance, or internet provider support line.

for my birthday, i received a head-cold. sinus head-aches, dripping nose, dry lips, sandpaper throat. it has taken me the better part of a week to kick it. actually, truth be told, it is still lurking about sometimes. hope to drown it in alcohol tonight. they use alcohol in hospitals to kill germs, right?

mostly, that didn't stop me from doing what needed to be done (read: i fucking had to do shit despite the fact that i felt like a pile of warm dung), but left little energy for the side-projects. just started to get back into the swing of things yesterday. (now that i am in the swing of things, if i could just get someone to give me a push... man, english is fucked up!)

when i was feeling the gunkiest, the days were sunny. bright, cheery, pleasant. now that i am feeling better, it is overcast. oh, cause that makes perfect sense. ty, o mighty whatever thing you are that is running the show up there, he he.

(i posted once about possible past lives i may have had, and i mentioned that i must have been close to (and teased incessantly) someone of significant religious importance, say jesus, or buddha (though i think it would've been ultra keen to have been chilling with vishnu), because the powers that be (and i would capitalize that probably, if i bothered to capitalize anything in this tiny flake of dead skin caught in the world wide web) seem to occasionally poke fun at me in mostly harmless ways.)

i guess, for now, we will leave it at that, o my beloved non-existant readers, and no doubt after tomorrow i will have a (hopefully) clever post about drunken party shenanigans (lo and behold, i had always been spelling that word with too many n's, my irish forebears would kick my mostly-german ass) and sundry silliness for your reading pleasure.

until then.

darth sardonic

and the stars align...

(wait, what the hell? align, sign. jesus, the english language is all kindsa twisted and silly. now, if something is in a row, we say it is in a line. so the verb of that ought to be aline, right? not aliGn, dammit. somewhere early on in the development of the english language, some dippy git ran through with just random letters tossing them into the middle of words. through would be another example of this. so would would. fuck's sake, this could take all day...)

it is amazing what a full night's (again, there it is) sleep will do for a family of rowdy punk boys. nos. 1 and 2 were much more cooperative and listened better, and actually got to play games for a bit, and didn't even fight (again) when it was time to turn them off and do something else.

and we did. we went outside to "wash the car" again, cause honestly, that was pretty damn (again) fun. i actually sorta worked on flower beds while (again) the sprogs blasted me and each other with the hose at close range. laughter (again) ensued and we all got soaking wet.

now, in the past, when i have been rested, i have had a tendency to not be as harsh or "stick-to-my-guns" as i am when exhausted. but not today. i was, no doubt (yeah, i aint even trying anymore, shit), much more pleasant than i have been, but i still made the kids listen to me on the important things, and they still lost some priveleges. by god and sonny jesus, i am gonna make this thing work if it kills all of us! it won't, but, you know, i like to be all melodramatic.

all is currently quiet from the bedroom as well, so i am thinking (and hoping) that tonight will be another like last, and we will be again pleasant and listen and chipper and whatnot.

now, i am going to clean a bit, and cook myself a steak (yes, a steak. yes, me cook. oh, stop your bloody snickering!), and have a nice salad (i mean it, knock the damn guffawing off!) and maybe watch rebel without a cause, have a drink or two, and toddle off early.

and now i am going to go off on a rant because the phone just rang and this is really starting to piss me off:

before my wife left, i stood in the kitchen as she answered the phone as "toll free" popped up on the caller id, and watched as she proceeded to tell the whorey sonsa bitches on the other side that she was not interested in what they had to offer, and that she had told this to at least two other syphilitic operators, and would they please take her number off of their list, as we would not ever be interested in their product, thank you. (a note here, she didn't call them names or insinuate that they were disease-riddled or any such thing. that is being added here by me. she was very polite but firm. however, if they could've seen her eyes they would've crawled under their desks as if a nuclear blast was imminent. woo, got shivers just thinking about the look, glad it wasn't aimed at me.)

now, after she has left, we still get regular calls from "toll free", which i tend to not answer. but a mere week after my wife left, i am in the shower, and i have just put the shampoo on my hands but not into my hair yet, when the phone rings. at this time, my wife wasn't on some sort of set schedule, and hence would call at strange times of the day. i quickly rinse my hands, bark my shin on the side of the tub, curse the tub, and the installer of the tub, and the creator of bathtubs, nearly turf it on the tile floor (cause my fucking wife is calling from fucking turkey or something, i don't have time to even grab a towel!), and then stand dripping and shivering as i see "toll free" on the caller id. i do not answer it. i do not answer it because the ensuing barrage of obscenities and filth and foul would misrepresent the person that i attempt to be.

now, "toll free" has called at least once a day, mon through fri, since.

today, i answered. "may i speak to wife sardonic?"

"she is not home."

"thank you."

a few hours later, again, same voice. "may i speak to wife sardonic?"

"sorry, she isn't going to be home for several months."

"thank you."

and just now, o my beloved, and surely enraged (as i am) non-existant readers, the same successful brain-donor just rang back and asked me yet afuckinggain if she could speak to my wife.

i took a painful deep breath, and calmy said, "wife sardonic is not going to be home until september at the earliest."

"thank you."

and now, my droogies and only friends, if "toll free" calls again, o the beautiful tapestry of the deepest, foulest, murkiest filth i shall weave for their listening pleasure. i will no doubt dredge up words they may never have even heard before, whilst explaining to them that they are harassing me and that i have been nothing if not civil to them up to that point, and ending with the number they should direct their next call to (my lawyer's) because i swear to all that is good and holy in this shited-up world that if they call me again after i unload on them, there will be harassment charges being filed.

darth needs a new drumset.

i did say i was going to have a drink or two, did i not?

thanks for playing along.

darth sardonic