rain rain go away,

come again another day,
all the world is waiting for the sun...

i don't want to build a fucking avatar, i just want the fucking lyrics! i'm not even sure what building a damn avatar has to do with lyrics of songs anyhow.

it should be a requirement for people planning on moving to western washington for any length of time to take a course on driving in the rain. fuck me sideways if i didn't see people nearly fuck themselves up about a million times on the trip out to my mom's house today. one of them was a single car accident. i think he didn't slow down while trying to powerhouse through an intersection and he fucked his car up on the opposite curb. the standard washington manoeuvre of trying to speed through the ass-end of a yellow light doesn't work when it is rainy.

why is it that the kid who can barely keep his eyes open at 4 p.m. will then play noisily in his room after his regular bedtime until about 8:30 p.m. before passing out on a stack of legos, and then pop from bed like a mongoose ready to kill the cobra at 4:30 a.m. and want to tell me at top volume about how grand it is to be alive and how much this new day means to him?

i believe i told him from the cocoon of my warm bedclothes: "foodle shagga obb, figgle nappa 'k, nenn wanna b' sappy, wigga?" (if you don't shut your gob, i'll fucking snap your neck, and then you won't be so happy, willya?) (early morning darth is an evil bastard and should be left to his own devices until he crawls from bed like the first fish to pull itself gasping from the primordial ooze.)

i'm ready to go back to hot and humid any damn time. i have been loathe to close the windows and turn off the fans, cause i know it is coming, but the house is a frigid 60 degrees most of the damn time now, and anyways, it is fucking july! i mean i know it is western washington, the gray, dreary drizzle capitol of the known world, but c'mon already!

that is more or less it on the sardonic front for now. i predict some yahtzee against my mom in my near future, as well as drinks and dinner and brooke-ogling with s, but much beyond that i can't really say.

darth sardonic

i wish this would be your color...

the day dawns cold and gray. the air is chilly with misty rain, but will later be muggy, despite the clouds and lack of sun.

i go on my run. for the third day in a row, as i pass the pond (the sign refers to it as a lake, but it is barely a pond, almost a swamp, actually), birds dive-bomb me, chirping angrily. they are getting more aggressive, and today i actually cover my head with one arm, just in case.

i need to change my route.

fucking birds and their over-developed sense of danger. any animal with half a brain would wait to see if i was even headed towards their nest, posing a real threat, before going on the defensive. winged motherfuckers.

i have a general underlying malaise. i am forcing myself to do the things i would normally, run, work out, do the bills, clean the house. i am missing my wife a little extra for some inexplicable reason, and everything seems to have an odd sad undertone.

then the kids come home from school, and it is off to grammy's. only when i call to tell her we are leaving the driveway she says she has to run into town fast and help a friend who is in a nursing home. no problem.

we can get lunch.

i attempt to fanagle the kids into wanting lunch where i want, someplace we can sit down and kill an hour or two. someplace where i can stick to my newer, healthier diet. i try to bribe them with mango lahsis or pancakes, but i should've known better:

"we want fwenss fwies!"

sighing heavily in exasperation (stephen king says writers tend to overuse adverbs: i know i do), i pull out of the driveway.

why is it i love the sad songs about breaking up? alkaline trio improves my mood some, by juxtaposing catchy tunes with depressing lyrics, and i buy a mocha at a local pull-up coffee hut where the baristas are all women and nearly always extremely scantily-clad (during the week, they have theme days: today's was "fantasy" (read: lingerie). my barista was wearing a brocade corset with matching panties, long, curly hair, a smile, and nothing else.), and head out for the evil golden arches, followed by my mom's unlocked but empty front door.

i hope this is good-bye, i hope this is good-bye.

if i ever make writing my full-time job, my kids simply won't allow it: no. 1 wants me to set up the game, that i told him i would do when i was done posting, and now runs in every five minutes to see if i am "done yet", to which i reply, "when i am done, you will be the first to know." which is actually a lie, because i will be first to know, and it is possible that one of my non-existants might log in before i make it into the living room to let my oldest know i will set his game up, and then he would fall a lame third. no. 2 says, "i wan' a sit on ya yap."

my mother's keyboard is so old that some of the letters are completely rubbed off. i never realized just how much i look down when i write until doing this post in the empty office, the kids enmeshed in star trek: first contact (which i would have thought would be too scary, but they love it. i tried to play them the wrath of khan the other day, and they were bored. no. 1 kept asking where the robots were. they didn't get interested in the movie until ricardo montalban blew up the genesis device and the whole fucking planet goes up in flames. should i be worried?), the air conditioner humming loudly throughout the house like a spirit caught between worlds.

tonight, it is out again with my oldest remaining buddy, s, for drinks and silliness and long talks about then and now and the upcoming, and flirting with brooke, our regular cocktail waitress. maybe today i will figure out if her breasts and blue eyes are really real. maybe not.

i guess i am horny. i'm too lazy to care, or even do anything about it. not that you wanted to know, but there you have it.

my kid just set the timer (the method we use for letting him know that it is time to put the video games away) on me. when it went off, he said, "ok, daddy, it's time to stop on the computer and get my games!"

i guess i am done.

darth sardonic