Sleeping is my 9 to 5...

this morning (and it is early still here), i went upstairs to wake up no. 2 to get ready for school. i'm not fully caffeinated yet, but take the nice and pleasant approach:

"hey, hey buddy. it's time to get uuup."

i rub his back softly with the flat of my palm, and he stirs and he rolls over. with half-lidded eyes, he asks, "why you wake me up for?"

"cause it is time to get up and get ready for school."

"we don't have skoo on saturdays n sundays."

"what day is today?"

he scrunches up his eyes in thought, tilting his head, and taps his temple with one index finger: "lemme check my brain. hmmm."

several more seconds of this method-actor bit, while i smile and try not to laugh outright, and then:

"fursday."

"so get up and get dressed."

i think it might be a very good day, o beloved non-existent readers (a new non-existent, and avid spellchecker, has informed me that all these years i have been spelling it wrong. how bout that? she also informed me if i spelled it wrong again, she would throttle me. violently.)

and a phrase for today that we don't use nearly enough: make hay while the sun shines.

darth sardonic

lolligag

i had a conversation with a coworker the other day that went something like this:

"possession is nine tenths of the law." [said as he weilded a golf club that one of the other groundskeepers had found and intended to keep]

to which i replied (being the thoughtful bastard i am, and a bit of a devil's advocate), "i am gonna go kick out the window of your car and just sit in it. then it will be mine."

"my car aint worth gettin' shot for."

"yeah, but i bet the gun is in the car isn't it? which would make it mine as well."

he thought for a moment, "hmmm. yup. guess so."

"so the gun and the car would be mine. whatcha gonna do?"

"walk home, i guess."

all my working out is paying off. i no longer have moobs (man-boobs) but instead what can only be referred to as pecs. and while i don't have a six-pack, i definitely have a four-pack, instead of the keg i was hauling around for quite a bit.

a few miles down the road from us, there is a motel called the luna sea motel. looks like a decent place, but you would be crazy to stay there.

the weather has been nice. life has been rollercoasting along. things are more or less the usual for a summer.

and that is really all i can say for now.

darth sardonic

the larch

today dawned bright and beautiful. my wife called from the second buy-in of a base sponsored poker tournament, mostly to see if she could afford to buy back in. we had a nice conversation for a bit before she insisted i lay back down since the kids were still asleep.

yeah, easier said than done.

no. 1 was up not much later, feening bad for his games that he had gone a full eight hours without. that boy is on the nod bad.

after he got his fix, i decided to head up to snoqualmie, a mountain town, in search of a collectibles shop i suspected might have vintage star wars toys and the like, hopefully for very reasonable prices. (d & k, if you're reading this, it was spur of the moment, and i forgot to put your phone number in my cell. or i would've at least called.)

so we left the house in a state i believe most people refer to as a shambles and got in the car to head out and have some fun on the road, even if the store was no longer there.

we had a great time in this little town whose big claims to fame are a still-working train line where one can ride on antique passenger trains, logging, and some beautiful falls. the building that the collectibles store used to be in was in a state of condemned-to-be-rebuilt-as-a-historical-monument, so we popped into a local garage sale, and i asked what had become of it.

"oh you mean the flying frog, it's across the street now. it's expanded too. you'll see it right there, across from the depot on main."

i thanked her, and we headed to the flying frog. we found it, and indeed, they had a plethera of vintage star wars collectibles, as well as real fossils and geodes, other sundry collectibles, and--

"oh my god, space 1999."

the owner pops his head up with a surprised chuckle and says, "yeah. do you remember what the name of the ship was?"

"oh man, ummm. alpha 1?"

"the eagle."

"the eagle?"

"yeah, the eagle from moonbase alpha."

"ah, that must be where i got the alpha thing from. i was what? 5, maybe 6. i had some of the action figures, but never the actual space ship."

i stood for a few moments, basking in fond, though vague, memories from my childhood while staring at the object that i had no doubt ogled and fantasized about whilst looking at a jc penneys catalog near christmas time.

my hope of very reasonable prices was a bit misplaced, but the proprietor did have a largish box of star wars figures, and i decided to go ahead and buy a few i didn't already have.

the boys were beyond well-behaved.

as we were heading back to the car, we passed a cafe, and popped in for hot dogs and sandwiches. we sat at the old-fashioned counter, and i asked the soda jerk for two of his finest kid's hot dog meals, and two of their finest root beers. i plunked my two bits down, only to discover that we've come a long way, baby, and whipped out my card instead.

the boys devoured their dogs, mowed through their chips, slurped their root beers, and made a huge mess (much to many of the patrons' delight) of their ice-cream cones, while boba fett kept falling off into the sarlacc pit, a power droid nearly lost his legs, and the death star commander kept reminding them that if they weren't well behaved, they weren't going to get to play video games when we got home.

the day was wonderful, my kids were angelic, the sun was bright, and a good time was had by all.

and i noticed something about western washington: it is full of hot, scantily-clad minas, just add sun.

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