Marc
Nothing but me, my shower, my laptop, and my recurring thoughts about my near-death experience tonight, kids. That's it. No rabblerousing. No horseplay. No nothing. Just chilling.
I just might be the only bloggist on the sight today, so I better make it count, eh? Here goes nothing. First big thought for the evening:
The word "jail" is a stupid word. Say it ten times, real quick, and notice how sucky it sounds. I can hear it come through my right nostril over and over again. There's hardly any work involved in this word. It's just the repeated flick of the tongue. I say this cause I heard some dumb cop using the word today in Beaver, Utah today. He came in and just started mouthing off "you got any mail for the jail?" "any jail mail" "how's about that mail for that jail?" Hardly a comedian. I bet my acute disliking of men in blue has something to do with my harsh, and swift judgement of this little piggy. Probably stems back to one of my four traffic tickets, and my single alcohol violation (I was 19, it was an outside party, entranced in deep conversation myself and two others failed to see the other 200 people at the joint quickly vacating the premises). I like the word "mail". There's a lot of coordination involved with that word. But "jail"? Come one. Couldn't we have just left it full-time at "prison"? It sounds so much meaner.
And it's time to move on.
I wonder if Zach saw the list of his three favorite movies. I wonder if Jesse made it to bed last night. I wonder if this band is going to have a kick ass tour. I wonder why I'm not wearing any pants.
Tomorrow, I've got two sites left to do, then it's off to Vegas, baby. . . Vegas. I'll probably only have time to get to the airport and jack around for an hour or two before my flight, but they've got slots in the terminals there. How rad is that? Last time I was there, I was with my Pops, and we had about fourty-five minutes to kill. So what'd we do? We played SLOTS. I took up ten dollars to the cashier, exchanged it for a roll of quarters, and then quickly watched it disappear within the next ten minutes. Pops, on the other hand, started off the same as I, but watched his multiply by nearly 90%. Bitch. Tomorrow, I'll probably lose another ten dollars, but that's okay. I'm ready for it. What I'm really looking forward to is my short weekend in Fort Collins, Colorado with Tall Ben, a friend from Kankakee. 6'8", if you can believe it. We'll drink beers, like we do every time I'm there, go to this one bar because all the bartenders there are attractive (in that alterna-girl type of way, thingy, and stuff), and we'll head back to his apartment, where I'll suddenly pass out on the couch, he and Katie (another Kankakee-ian) will stay up and talk and make fun of me because I said I would go in on the pizza with them but I couldn't hack it so I fell asleep and then flipped them off when the pizza delivery guy came with the pie, she'll leave, Ben will go to his room, play on-line chess (or some shit like that), and I'll wake up and have to pee but the bathroom is in his bedroom and I don't want to wake him up so I'll sit and play video games until the banging of the controller on the floor rattles him, he'll come out, and I'll quickly dash in and give a little squirt to the Toilet Gremlins.
So you see, I've got quite a busy weekend planned. Toodles on that tip.
Nothing but me, my shower, my laptop, and my recurring thoughts about my near-death experience tonight, kids. That's it. No rabblerousing. No horseplay. No nothing. Just chilling.
I just might be the only bloggist on the sight today, so I better make it count, eh? Here goes nothing. First big thought for the evening:
The word "jail" is a stupid word. Say it ten times, real quick, and notice how sucky it sounds. I can hear it come through my right nostril over and over again. There's hardly any work involved in this word. It's just the repeated flick of the tongue. I say this cause I heard some dumb cop using the word today in Beaver, Utah today. He came in and just started mouthing off "you got any mail for the jail?" "any jail mail" "how's about that mail for that jail?" Hardly a comedian. I bet my acute disliking of men in blue has something to do with my harsh, and swift judgement of this little piggy. Probably stems back to one of my four traffic tickets, and my single alcohol violation (I was 19, it was an outside party, entranced in deep conversation myself and two others failed to see the other 200 people at the joint quickly vacating the premises). I like the word "mail". There's a lot of coordination involved with that word. But "jail"? Come one. Couldn't we have just left it full-time at "prison"? It sounds so much meaner.
And it's time to move on.
I wonder if Zach saw the list of his three favorite movies. I wonder if Jesse made it to bed last night. I wonder if this band is going to have a kick ass tour. I wonder why I'm not wearing any pants.
Tomorrow, I've got two sites left to do, then it's off to Vegas, baby. . . Vegas. I'll probably only have time to get to the airport and jack around for an hour or two before my flight, but they've got slots in the terminals there. How rad is that? Last time I was there, I was with my Pops, and we had about fourty-five minutes to kill. So what'd we do? We played SLOTS. I took up ten dollars to the cashier, exchanged it for a roll of quarters, and then quickly watched it disappear within the next ten minutes. Pops, on the other hand, started off the same as I, but watched his multiply by nearly 90%. Bitch. Tomorrow, I'll probably lose another ten dollars, but that's okay. I'm ready for it. What I'm really looking forward to is my short weekend in Fort Collins, Colorado with Tall Ben, a friend from Kankakee. 6'8", if you can believe it. We'll drink beers, like we do every time I'm there, go to this one bar because all the bartenders there are attractive (in that alterna-girl type of way, thingy, and stuff), and we'll head back to his apartment, where I'll suddenly pass out on the couch, he and Katie (another Kankakee-ian) will stay up and talk and make fun of me because I said I would go in on the pizza with them but I couldn't hack it so I fell asleep and then flipped them off when the pizza delivery guy came with the pie, she'll leave, Ben will go to his room, play on-line chess (or some shit like that), and I'll wake up and have to pee but the bathroom is in his bedroom and I don't want to wake him up so I'll sit and play video games until the banging of the controller on the floor rattles him, he'll come out, and I'll quickly dash in and give a little squirt to the Toilet Gremlins.
So you see, I've got quite a busy weekend planned. Toodles on that tip.
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