ineptuser

First night home alone…

Mom wanted to go to the bar with her friends to see their favorite local band, Bitter Sweet Alley. Unfortunately, she couldn’t find anyone to babysit yours truly. What to do, what to do. It was somewhat rare, from what I remember, that she even went out with these friends – maybe once every month or two?

Anyway, this Bitter Sweet Alley band, to her and her friends, had to be the greatest in Detroit rock since Bob Seger went national. Every so often, I would have to listen to them gush about how cute the drummer was, what a hunk the guitar guy was, how they’d like to get one of them home, etc. How I turned out hetro is beyond me, now that I think about it.

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Our time in Glendale, CA was coming to an end, and I decided to go out and have a few beers at a bar/grill that was a few blocks away from the hotel.  My co-worker stayed in his hotel room every night, playing Everquest, so I had no intentions of asking him at all.  I needed steak and I needed Guinness, stat.  This was last weekend in town, we were leaving on Monday.

I walked on over to this bar & grill that was above a computer store.  I am not making that up.  This little ‘retail’ section was 2 stories.

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Standing in line at the Post Office here in Gulfport, Mississippi became a bewildering moment that will not exit my head. In this moment, I was subjected to a stupidity that will go unmatched for a very long time. It was stupidity that you would only read about and have to shake your head and read again. To have it said to you is another level of amazement that cannot be described.

This Post Office had a TV mounted up in the corner, tuned into one of them cable news channels. Very nice, thank you very much. The news was about to head to commercials, and in the teasers for the upcoming stories was “…claims “The Lord cured” him of homosexuality.” This was a tease for the story of the moron Donnie McClurkin – an Obama supporter who claims that a mythical figure “delivered him from homosexuality”. Probably the single most absurd thing I thought I would hear in all of October.

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I’m old.

I feel 30 years older than I am.

Tho I wouldn’t quite qualify for Social Security yet, I think I’m gonna just claim to be as old as I feel.

I’m sure being a greeter at a brand new Super Target Mega-Place (’cuz all the cool kids work at Wal-Mart already) wouldn’t be too bad.  Maybe I could be that old “out of touch” fella at the video store.  I could get away with telling soccer moms how pathetic their movie selections are.  I’ll enjoy it, and they’ll just smile and think I’m senile.  Either way, I’ll have to do something because, while old and loony, I wouldn’t be quite old enough to just say, “Fuck It” and never work again.
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I’ve thought and thought and thought.

Several days later, I remembered what I had been thinking of…

I’ve decided to become a crackhead.

It shouldn’t be too hard, I’ve got half of the laziness down, and I think I’m willing to give up luxuries such as internet, cellphones, big-ass steaks, clean clothes, teeth, my job, etc.  You know, the little things.  It’ll be back to human basics for me from now on.
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Well, finally went to the museums here in Pittsburgh.  While the excursion wasn’t the pathetic “trip to Wal-Mart” that I expected, it wasn’t quite awe-inspiring, either.

For some reason, everything is named after some clown from 100 years ago.  Carnegie or some shit.  Minus one to “Civic Pride”.

(note: I forgot my camera ‘cuz I’m an idiotic shitwipe that just won’t flush down with everything else.)
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The Mean Green Double-Flush
“The eggs are still good. See how the yolk stays? Yeah, you can boil them up and they’ll be fine. Absolutely.”

Yippee!

I boiled up the other 5 eggs. I loves me them hard-boiled eggs. 1 or 2 in the morning is enough of a breakfast for me. Matter of fact, that’s what I usually do while out on the road… I’ll buy those little packages at the grocery, usually two boiled eggs for 99 cents. I’ll eat them on the way to Starbucks

Anyway, I boiled up 5. I figured I’d eat 3 after they cool down, then eat the other 2 in the morning. I gobbled them up all the time when I was a kid. So much so, that I actually tried to make a map of the U.S. & Canada using nothing but the bits of eggshell from the eggs I was eating.

I can’t believe I just admitted that.

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