Friday, April 29, 2011

Stream of Consciousness for 4/29/11

No post this week, as I had a full one, and just managed to close the window before posting.  So, fuck it.

Friday, April 22, 2011

Stream of Consciousness for 4/22/11

I believe this will be a new feature, every Friday.

Its 8:43 a.m., and Duhbbs has already disappeared from sight twice.  Note to self; may need to get her a collar with a bell on it.

Seeing as how Pandora and Last.FM have not pleased me with their music choices for me, I've had to bring in a ringer, my iPod.

Why is it OK for men to be shirtless and have nipples about, but not women?  Balls and Vagajiz, I get, but someone can get away with the whole boob exposed, save for the nipple.  That's just dumb.

What is it about superglue that anytime I use it, I get about 1/2 the tube on my hands?  Its like I have an extra layer of skin that I could grab a hot iron with right now.  I had to use the superglue, because my new bicycle mount for my iPod has a design flaw in it.  When i hit the first major bump on my way to work, both the mount and the iPod went sailing.  Not sure why it was designed like this.  Its built so the mount is secure to the bike, but you can clip part of it off to carry this cumbersome ass piece around.  That just doesn't make the least bit of sense.  Hopefully the superglue is working its magic.

Forgot that I was listening to a Nerdist podcast on my way to work this morning.  If I stop it now, I'll have to restart it later.  Fuck it, I'll go back to you Pandora...for now.

Superglue is starting to peel off my hands.  I feel like a leper.

Its now Friday, and no mention from my parents about Church on Sunday.  And I've talked to them multiple times this week...have I succeeded in my mission?

Thank Christ the lady who was supposed to be off today, decided to come on in.  I don't know how I would have handled working with Duhbbs all day long by myself.  I probably would have to call the ABC store for a delivery.

Decided to do a character sketch of Duhbbs.  I'll post it later.

I think I'm gonna buy a Jug O Rum from the ABC store tonight.  The weather's getting nice.  Means its time to stray from the Whiskey a little bit.  Maybe I'll carry it with me kayaking, and I can feel like a pirate.

I'm so very pleased with myself for mowing the grass yesterday.  Now I can do no chores this weekend. Save for cleaning the house.

That's what I deal with 5 days out of my week.  Pure, unbridled Hell on two legs.

Pandora's got their shit together today.  You get a second chance then, music program.

The weather is awesome today.  I think I may just drink on the front porch after work.  Listen to some podcasts, and drunk Twitter.  Drunk Twittering is awesome, as its like a ongoing report of how drunk you are.  (which, you can follow me @jamofpearls).  And don't message me about how its called "Tweeting"  I refuse to call it that.

I had someone get...I don't want to say mad, necessarily...frustrated may be a better word for it.  The reason: I didn't want to start a weekly poker night.  (It probably didn't help that last week, I told his wife that I didn't want to go to a drive-in movie, as I'm kind of a movie snob.  Not in the type of movies that I like to watch, mind you, just how I watch them.  As in Dolby Digital Surround, Played on DLP Screens.  Not on some sheet, strung up in someone's backyard, while music plays through the speakers of your car.)  I don't care for card games, or most board games.  I don't like remembering all the rules, and it usually gets in the way of my getting drunk on a Friday or Saturday night.  Also, I don't understand why you need a reason to get together to hang out.  Why can't we hang out and talk?  I think some people have an idea of what married, couples or people over thirty are supposed to do together.
I feel like I've never really fit into those predetermined molds.  While everyone else I grew up with was getting married, and having kids, I was moving to Nashville, meeting new people, and going out to bars.  Even now, while those kids are older, and these folks have completely settled into their lives, I feel like I'm still exploring. Not new girl options, mind you, as I'm with Kell fohevahs.  I'm not saying that I'm immature, by any stretch of the imagination.  I pay my bills on time.  I don't do anything really wrong.  But I do like to do things when I want to.

Enough of that for now.  

I love internet shopping.  I think its because I love getting packages in the mail.  Or tracking them.  Something about it is def more fun that physically going to the store.  Maybe its the gamble of whether it will be like you saw it online.

I wish I were friends with Bill Murray.  I feel like we would get along.  Not in a creepy fan way, but in a for real, just talking, joking, hanging around type of way.  Note to self; do not stalk Bill Murray.

Pandora LOVES Bush, like really loves them.  I swear Pandora's played Bush tracks like 15 times already.

I need Blues Brothers to be released on Blu Ray.

I also need to buy Ghostbusters on Blu Ray.

Why can't it be socially accepted to pick your nose?  I feel this needs to be changed.  If you eat your buggers, then you need to be sent to the electric chair.

Lunch Time.

2:11  What about Johnny Cash makes him feel like he's my Grandfather.  I don't know what it is, but I look at a picture of him, or listen to a song of his, and I immediately feel like this guy has taken me fishing or given me a pocket knife.  Grandfather type stuff.
Just look at him.  Wouldn't you love to get life lessons from that guy?

Showed my above illustration to a co-worker.  He loved it.

Pandora, you've lost your job.  iPod, you're up.  

Ice cream was a bad idea.  Its called a Jihad against the taco soup I had for lunch.

Starting to get sleepy.  I think its the temp.  I could straight up nap for an hour right now.

What is it about certain bands that just feel like a certain season.  Counting Crows sound like late fall, early winter.  The Grateful Dead sound like late spring, early summer.  AC/DC feels like summer.  Pearl Jam is the only one I don't really get a season bead on.  Its like some of their stuff feels like fall, some like summer, some like fall & of course some like winter.  Pretty much any punk band feels like summer to me.  Maybe it has something to do with when their albums were released.  Weird.

I hate everyone that has a four door wrangler.  They are literally the only people on the planet that I'm jealous of.

Need to relocate my Verucca Salt 8 arms to hold you album, see if it still holds up from college days.

Looking over the blog.

Yep, that looks good for now.  Maybe some more later.

And now is later.  Mom asked about Easter, but eating...not Church going...Shit then she totally asked about church going.  I mumbled something about folks coming in from out of town fused with a kayak trip.  I think it worked.  She did manage to trick me in to asking Kell to bring a cheesecake.  She's a crafty one, that mom.
This rum is tasting gooooooood.
I may need to sober up a lil bit.  Maybe eat a sammich.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Loosing weight the Michael Henderson way. A comical approach to dropping pounds.

I used to be pretty damned skinny all through High School, college, post college and being single years.  I ate horrible food, and drank All. The. Time.
When Kell and I started dating, I weighed in right at 180.  Which really isn't bad for my height.  And I kept that weight for the most part, but then Kell got laid off, and during this period, starting watching Food Network.  And we moved from our downtown place, to a regular house, which meant no more stairs, or walking to work.  Which meant, the weight I was keeping off began to pack on my ass.  I ballooned right on up to about 240.  

I finally decided enough was enough, and decided to start loosing weight.  But not by actually going to a gym, consulting anybody, or watching videos or any smart way.  I pretty much winged it.

I drank beer non stop when I drank, always Natural Light.  Its cheap, and tastes awesome.  I love carbonation.  If it were a drinking night, I could pound beers non stop.  Cause they're so delicious, and go down with ease.  But them mutherfuckers have calories out the ass.  So, my first step was to stop drinking (beers all the time).

But quiting alcohol wasn't going to happen, because I'm actually pretty good at drinking.  People tell me that they have a hard time telling when I'm drunk.  The key is if I ask the same question over and over again.

So I decided to start drinking whiskey and diets.  "But Michael, whiskey has sugar and calories, and blah blah blah"  Shut it.  This is why its different.  I don't slam whiskey drinks like Hulk Hogan slams Iraqi Sympathizers.  I sip whiskey drinks.  For every three whiskey drinks, I would have knocked out at least 6 beers.  Also, don't eat on friday nights, just start drinking as soon as you get home.


Then weigh your self on saturday morning.  You'll be surprised what the scale says.
So, I immediately started dropping pounds that way.  Which got me down to about 225-220.

I shaved off my super thick beard which was probably good for a pound or two.

For the next part, I started lifting a few weights.  Once again, my way.  I didn't go and buy expensive weight sets.  I found the bar, and some weights when we moved in, and used those.  And was given a few more.  I maybe spent 15 dollars on fitness equipment.  Then, I started drinking more water, like lots of water.  That got me down to around 200.

We also bought Kayaks, which probably helps too.  Not the actual buying them, but using them on the weekend.

My next component to loosing weight was to start riding a bike to and from work.  But i didn't have a bike.  And those fuckers be exspansive.  So I went to a pawn shop.  Bought one for 30 dollars.  

You may say "Why not run everyday?"  Because fuck running, that's why.  But now i'm down to 195.

I also suggest intense video game sessions, you won't believe how much you sweat when shit gets real playing online.

So I'm only 15 pounds away from my goal of 180.  Which isn't too bad, considering I haven't listened to any professional, or done anything crazy strenuous. 
Which brings me to my next point.  If you would like to loose weight, but are having a hard time, send me a check for $100.00, and I'll put you on a program of beard shaving, video games, whiskey drinking, kayaking, and riding a bike to work.  Its worked for me, and it will work for you.*

*Disclaimer - Most likely will not work for you.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Just Gonna Go Out For a Little While....

Always turns out to be ALLLL NIGHT.

Here's how Saturday ran down for me.
6:30 in the morning, my dad calls "Hey, breakfast at 7:30, that OK?"
We go and meet dad, one of my brothers, and one of my sisters for breakfast. Then, afterwards go to Mom and Dad's house for a little while.  Leave.  Run errands.  Come back to the house.  Sleep till about 2.  Get up.  Drink a beer.  Then another.  Get texts back and forth from April about what to do.  Finally call her.  Meet at On The Rocks at about nine.  Kell and I agree that we won't go out that long, just hang at OTR for a bit, and then come home.  Well, April and Kim are running a few minutes behind.  I power down a few more beers.  They arrive.  I drink a few more beers.
They suggest we go to DP's.  We agree.  Kell and I get in April's car, and we head across the river.
I move on to whiskey and diets, as Nan makes them pretty killer, and they're dirt cheap.
I start to get drunk, and text/tweet Sarah Colonna like we're friends.
I suggest we go to a country bar to ride the mechanical bull, and maybe just hit up this other bar for Karaoke.  The mechanical bull bar costs extra at the door, so we choose the karaoke dive also known as Mr. Norm's.
They sell Natural Light.  Which I love.
and then this happens...

I bust out "You Shook Me All Night Long" by AC/DC, and kick all sorts of ass.

And the night continues on, and we get some of these pics going...

And I'm really beginning to forget my own name.

Someone suggests we go to the all night diner known as Tourway.  Sure I ate dinner already, but fuck it.
This is the last known photo of me from that evening, before I woke up in my bed on Sunday morning wearing about 1/2 of what I went out in.  Which would be a pic of me with a flower from the table.

Had an awesome time though, for what I remember.  No one parties like thirtysomethings party.

Friday, April 15, 2011

Stream of Consciousness

Its 12:24 on Friday.  Pandora is playing grunge, or at least its supposed to, but for some reason Blink 182 is playing.  I click on the "thumbs down", pandora apologizes, and tells me it will find something else that I will like. It plays Incubus.  Fuck.  "thumbs down."  Blind Melon.  I won't "thumbs up", but I won't fast forward either.

I keep trying to write a new blog, but keep deleting it.  I think it comes off as pretentious.  And that's not the way I'm wanting it to sound.  

The rain won't quit today.  

Due to slow business, we're cutting back on some employees hours.  Marvin will no longer come in on Fridays.  And Marie is taking off next Friday.  Which means I'll be stuck with Duhbbs all day long.  I'll have to do my best not to murder her.  She makes it difficult not to do sometimes.  Maybe I'll just slug her.  I can't go to jail for that, right?
I'm digging this new gray polo from the gap.   Fits well.  Don't mind shopping there when I can get polos for 8 dollars.  It works well with my jeans, and vans.  Which I need more of.  Vans that is. I can never have enough.  I would have had a nice collection, had my dog not eaten three pair of them.

That damned printer keeps making noise.  I swear after the last lightning strike, it started cleaning itself.  Presumably because it shit itself.  I imagine if lighting is mildly frightening to us, it must be pants shitting scary for electronics.

Pandora plays Hootie and the Blowfish.  Is there a "fuck no" option?  Damn.  "thumbs down"

Goo Goo Dolls?  Honestly Pandora.  Get it right.  Or I'll cancel yer ass.

My friend Nicole messages me to ask about another friend that we haven't seen in years.  I can't remember the last time I've seen her.  Heard rumors a few years back of her being in an asylum, or something to that effect.  Doesn't every class have someone like that, who just disappears?  

Kell will be here soon, and we can eat lunch.  Which is good, because I'm eye fucking that Snickers bar on my desk right now.  Don't need to be caught with a candybar on my dick though.  Not again.

I hear that when you dream of a house, its represents your brain, then why is mine a rundown downtown place, populated with college age folks that I don't know?  

12:39.  Take a break.

Pandora, you've obviously forgotten what 90s grunge is. 

1:19.  Still Raining.  My yard is probably a swamp right now.  No front porch drinking after work.  It will have to be on the couch.  Hopefully I've got enough whiskey to make it through the night, as I don't care to hit up the liquor store for more Evan Williams Green Label. 
I don't care how cheap it is.  Its tasty when mixed with Diet Dr. Pepper.

Posted a bunch of pics on facebook that most are well over 10 years old.  Not really feeling nastalgic or anything.  Just thought it would be fun to tag and see who responds.  They also make a nice trace of years from about the age of 15-22.  I titled it Old Friends, New Friends and Even a Bear, after the Cleveland Show theme song.  Funny thing is, the "Even a Bear" technically works in one pic.  

Its too bad that Gavin Rossdale couldn't actually write songs that made any sense, as they had a rockin sound.  
Gross, STAIND?  What the hell.  Great, fuck. I can't fast forward.  Hopefully a wandering ear doesn't hear this shit, and think that I'm a fan.  Could really ruin my music reputation.  God damn it.  Oasis.  I can't click "thumbs down" fast enough, my hand may have broke the sound barrier.

Fred's Department Store always smells like someone took a Wild Irish Rose infused shit on every isle.

I guess I can finish reading "A Zombie's History of the United States of America" and that David Sedaris book this weekend.

I need some new websites to visit.  There's like a grand total of 5 that I frequent.  I need a good comedy blog to read.  

I wish I could have a mohawk here at my office.  I think I could still rock that at 32.

The Snickers and left over Mexican food are starting to argue.  Could be violent.

Shortlist of Celebrities I would like to hang out with.  The cast of Mythbusters, & American Pickers.  Sarah Colonna, Whitney Cummings, Jon Stewart, Stone Cold Steve Austin.  I think that would make for a fun party.

I want to do a late night Kayak Run.  Think that would be really fun by moon light.  Must be mindful of creek ghosts.

What is it about stickers?  I'm like a little girl with them.  Bands, Vans and Outdoor brands are my favorite.  I put them on everything.  My Jeep.  Kell's Jeep.  My Kayak, my cell phone, my office window.  Don't know why.  Its free advertising for someone else.  Its not like pearl jam has a sticker on their cars with my face on it.  Although, that would fun.  Maybe I should send Eddie a sticker with me on it, giving thumbs up.  I wonder what's the creepy factor there.

So far, so good.  I haven't been told about Church on Easter Sunday, yet.  Which means I can claim "plausible deniability" to Mom and Dad come Sunday afternoon.  "OOOOOOHHHH, that was this Sunday?"  Which they won't buy for a second.  Makes me feel better though.

Tomorrow is the third saturday of the month, which means I go eat with dad for a few minutes at breakfast.  I like to do it, as its the only thing I really get to do with him.  Downside is that I have to get up at like 6 to go. Which can be hard to do after drinking all night.  

And at 2:18 I think that's a good place to quit for now.  Probably pick back up later after I've had a few glasses of Whiskey & Diet.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Surviving Mardi Gras...kind of.

Its been a while since we got back from our Mardi Gras trip.  I think I can still recount much of what happened.
Kell and I arrived in town earlier than what I thought, and was greeted by a flat out awesome smell of coffee.  We parked the Jeep at the nearby parking deck, and proceeded to try to find the Hotel to check in.  Which we should have done before unloading said Jeep, and walking down the street with suitcases, four bottles of liquor and other items in tow.  But no problem, as the hotel was right down the block.  Checked in, and admired the size of our room.  Like really admired it, especially seeing as how large it was for the price I paid during the Mardi Gras period. FTW!
We jumped right into having fun, as Kell had brought our Fat Tuesdays drink holders from our last trip two Halloweens ago.  I filled mine with Rum and Diet Dr. Pepper, and Kell did her's with Rum and Coke Zero.  Hit the streets and began to have fun.  We opted first to head up to Bourbon, just to see how far we would be, for walking distance.  Turned out, not to far at all, only about three blocks.  
There were people already out and about having fun.  Which I began to grin from ear to ear, as I knew it was fuckin on.
We got 190 Octanes, walked around some more, and eventually decided to go get some dinner.  We stopped in at this pizza place that we loved the last time we were in town.  And thankfully it was still open.  French Quarter Pizzaria & Bar I believe its called.
After dinner, went back out into the quarter for some drankin and celebration.  My memory is a little hazy, but I do know my hip was hurting real bad from driving all day, so we had to walk back to the room around 11.
At some point, I passed out.  
At some point later, I got up to go to the restroom.  
At some point again later, I woke Kell up trying to get back into the room, explaining that I was trying to find the restroom.  Here's where things get interesting.  Kell was out cold.  And I don't remember a gotdamned thing.  So as far as both of us know, on one end of the spectrum, I could have opened the door to the hotel room, and turned around, and got myself back in, all in the span of a minute. Or...I could have opened the door, pissed in the hallway, elevator, lobby...anywhere but my toilet, and made my way back to the room.  Or worst case scenario, where I normally operate in, I got up, went to locate the restroom, walked out of the hotel room instead, decided "fuck it" went down to the lobby, out to the street, and partied some more before wandering back.  Either one of those could have happened.
The next day we woke up, and Kell recounted to me waking her up in the middle of the night trying to get back into the room.  
We walked down to Cafe Beignet's to get some breahfus.  Everything they served came with fuckin eggs.  I hate eggs.  But they were nice enough to give me extra grits and bacon. 
Kell and I ate and walked around some more.  I began to debate on just how early is too early to start drinking on a saturday.  
We had planned on eating at this place called Johnny PoBoys' for lunch, but it was uber packed, so we opted to go to Pierre Masperos.  I got a crawfish poboy and a gigantor beer.  Kell got a roast beef poboy and a beer as well.  
We both decided a nap was in order, as I'm a punk bitch, and love my naps.  I woke up, and started in on drinking again.  More rum and diets.  We got dressed, and got some more 190s.  Did a bit of shopping, and came back to the room to drop our stuff off.
Drank some more.
Then went to the front of our place to see the parade.  Which was really fun, as Kell and I caught a metric ton of beads.  We caught so much shit, we were passing it on to other people.  We both didn't feel like trying to find some new place to eat, so we went back to the French Quarter pizza place, and knocked out a meal there.  
We had decided early on that we were determined to sing Karaoke while we were in town, so we went to find the Cat's Meow, which is not a stripper karaoke bar, like the name suggests.
I sang, she sang, I nearly punched a guy.
We left, and got some more 190s.
Then walked a little further, stopped for Kell to get some lipgloss, and she then realized all the zippers on her purse was open, and her wallet was no longer there.
After a mild freak out, we walked back to the daiquiri bar, and they hadn't seen the wallet, which was unfortunate, because it was the last place it had been used.  
We knew that it had been stolen.  We started walking back towards the room, and I spotted two cops, and we told them what went down.  
Then it began to hit us.  I let out a growl and punched a marble wall.  My knuckles are still hurting from that bad decision.  We knew that our trip was going to be cut short.  
Got back to the room, and Kell spent the better part of two hours calling banks and credit card companies.  
The next morning, we got up and checked out.  Then it dawned on us that we had our parking ticket for the parking deck in her wallet.  Which really sucked when we saw the sign that said "MISSING TICKETS - $20"
I explained to the lady working the toll both what had happened, hoping that we would just get the charge of 30 dollars a night for both the nights we were there, and not the additional 20.  She talked to someone on her radio and then waved us on, saying don't worry about it. We thanked her, and drove on.
Down at the exit was a plain clothes police officer who stopped to talk to us, and said "so you guys got picked?"  We told him yeah, and what happened.  He apologized, and we drove on home.
I sucked really bad having to deal with the stolen wallet, and cutting our trip short, but I would go back in a hot minute.  I really love hanging out down there.

Friday, April 8, 2011

10 things that I can just not stand.

1. Beach pictures where everyone is dressed the same.  Especially white tops with khaki shorts.
Everyone seems to do this for some reason.  I'm not even clear why.  Its like it started as some virus that just spread uncontrollably, and everyone thinks they're the ones who did it first.  I'll purposely not bring khaki or white to the beach to ensure this doesn't go down.

2. Mothers who call their daughters "sis"
I don't know why this makes my skin crawl.  My own mother is guilty of this, (and the above).  Something about it is just gross.  Its like the word Nog.

3. Running into people that I haven't seen since High School.
I'm just fucking awkward to begin with.  Not to mention having to think about what's gone down in 10 - 14 years since we've last hung out that I can get across in 5 minutes time.  That's what facebook and email, or getting a drink sometime is for.

4. People that say "God Bless You"
Not that I'm against people saying it, necessarily.  I'm all for God blessing me.  But how do you respond to that? They've already topped you, they've won.  There's nothing you can say in response to equal that.  You can't say "God bless you, too"  Cause you know they know that you've just copied exactly what they said, and that they're thinking "unoriginal."  Or "Thank You"  because they'll come back with "you're welcome" and your're right back where you started.  I believe I'm just gonna start saying "no habla ingles"  Save my self the run around.

5. Microsoft Word.
Everyone's got a kid who they think is an artist who set up their print job in Microsoft Word, that ends up looking like dog shit, because they took it beyond the "Word" and decided it needs to be a design program.

6. Places that serve regular Dr. Pepper but not Diet Dr. Pepper.
This makes absolutely no sense to me.  The fountain has Pepsi, Diet Pepsi, Mt Dew, Diet Mt. Dew, Exxxtreeeme Yellow Mt. Dew, Pink Lemonade, Diet Pink Lemonade, the fake Sprite, the fake Diet Sprite & Dr. Pepper.

7. The thought of having to play cutesy games.
Like Bachelor and/or Bachelorette party shit.  Oh look, someone's got dick shaped pasta!  Yay.

8. Having to go to church on Easter Sunday.
This one's coming up fast, unless I come up with an escape plan.  If you go to church, that's awesome for you.    But I NEVER go.  Therefore when I (have to) go on Easter, I've got everyone and their cousin running up to me and asking A: "So, you're down from Nashville this weekend? (Besides the fact that I've lived back in Florence for something like 8 years now)" or B:  "You gonna come back next Sunday?"  Which is a bear trap and they know it.  You can't lie in church (despite the fact that I've had preachers look me right in the eyes and tell me that there's no such thing as dinosaurs) and say "Yes", lest you be struck down on the way out.  And you can't flat out say "NO" as then there's the convo with Mom and Dad afterwards about why you refuse to go, despite that "Church is really different now, and really laid back"

9. How God Rock bands get off so easy.
Want to be in a successful band that gets to tour, and put out albums, and never get a bad review?  Become a Christian Rock Band.  It doesn't matter how horrible your band is, as long as there's something about "The Lord" in there, people are unallowed to say anything nasty about how bad it sounds, because "you're glorifying God" or something.

10. People who update Facebook and/or Twitter with the full on intent of people feeling sorry for them and commenting back in a positive manner.
Its cheap, and you need to be drowned for it.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

I Hate You

Your face looks like you took make up advice from a drunk chimp.
Your speech patterns are akin to if someone cut out your tongue and replaced it with play-doh.
You constantly look like you're pregnant, even though it should be against the law for you to procreate.
You dress like Shaggy from Scooby-Doo on accident.
Your monosyllabic grunts travel through time, to even where cavemen say "what the fuck is she talking about?"
Your thighs are too big for your corduroy pants you insist on wearing every day, which allows me to hear you coming from a mile away.
Your hair dye job screams accident, but its been the same for 3 years now.
You butcher the English language so well, you should open up a shop, and sell slabs of vowels.
You stare blankly at a copier as if it holds the answers to the universe.
Your pronunciation of your daughter's name "CHRIYUSTEENUH"  makes me want to permanently remove my ears by bashing them on the concrete.
You just really deserve to be launched into space, but I don't want advanced life forms to think that there is a planet of you.
You should be locked in a closet with a sexually aggressive panther, but that would be mean to the panther.
Your laugh sounds like a turkey's mating call.  But if the turkey has severe head trauma.

I just hate you.