Stories of Mikistory

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

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

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, an

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

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 we

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.   Hotels.com 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,

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

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 deser