Monday, October 02, 2006

Your day breaks, your mind aches
You find that all the words of kindness linger on
When she no longer needs you

She wakes up, she makes up
She takes her time and doesn't feel she has to hurry
She no longer needs you

And in her eyes you see nothing
No sign of love behind the tears
Cried for no one
A love that should have lasted years

You want her, you need her
And yet you don't believe her when she said her love is dead
You think she needs you


Ironically, that has always been one of my favorite songs.

Off one of my favorite albums, Revolver.

That Paul McCartney, oh he was a clever one.

So, how was your Monday?

Are you sitting there on Tuesday, waiting for the Dude to bring the funny?

The thing about bringing the funny is that you can't force it

Fortunately for you, I have been to Ireland twice, and twice, some Irishman has held my legs whilst I leaned over backwards, dangling 7 stories over the Irish turf and kissed the fabled Blarney Stone.

Twice.

Anyway, the funny has to just flow.

I could sift through some funny stories from days of yore...

There was the time I got arrested.

But let's save that for a special occasion.

There was the time that my college roommate, Twink, and I tried to climb into Foxboro Stadium in 1990 to see the Rolling Stones, and were chased down by German Shepherds and cops.

Let's save that one, too.

There was the time that I threw up in an ice machine, but let's put that one on ice. (ha.)

I am sifting through my mental rolodex, thinking about dozens of stories, but due to the fact that certain readers are, well, reading, I just cannot tell those stories.

I could tell the one about the couple I met in Boston who had trained a Sharpei to perform fellatio, but you really need to hear that one in person. Trust me, it is better in person. (They had their walls painted black. Weird. Well, I guess that is just one weird thing among many that evening.)

There was the time with Leo, flying to Utah, when they threatened to land the plane and have me arrested. (Pre-9/11. Hey, who knew that feigning SEVERE fear of flying to make Leo laugh and smuggling beer on board would make them so angry? Certainly not me.)

Hmmm.

OK, I am trying to force the funny now.

It feels like a dump gone wrong.

You know what I am talking about.

I could tell you about ... wait, no I can't.

I should reallly start an anonymous blog and not tell anyone I know about it. That's what I should do...

As for positive news, I think I can identify someone who has a crush on me.

It's not funny, and it may only be good news to me, but hey.

At least it is a girl, and even though she may be located a couple thousand miles away, that's gotta count for something.

See, I am not a real Ladies' Man, so this is News to me.

I have had a continuous girlfriend and/or wife since I was 13 years old.

I am kind of like a serial killer, except instead of killing, I just get into a relationship, and then another one, and then another one, and then another one, with no break in between, and next thing you know, I've got dead hookers piled up in my basement.

Anyway, joking aside, that is true. (Not the dead hookers, the relationship part.)

So this time, I am determined to spend some time just kind of hanging out with me.

(Read: I'll probably have a girlfriend by Saturday.)

No really.

I have a bunch of guests coming here over the next few weeks.

My Sainted Mother, first and foremost.

Following that, UJ, the Eck and Dan-O.

After that I go to Wisconsin for a visit.

Then, LA.

My old stomping grounds.

Shortly thereafter, ski season begins, and I have big plans.

Quagmire is coming for a week. We're gonna spend Christmas together, but I suspect it will be more of a Festivus thing.

I have some friends coming out in January to ski.

I plan to go to Jackson Hole, just to see if it is as Badass as They say.

I am going to Maui in February. I imagine that will suck.

I will also be (for sure) going to Tahoe with Dan-O, which will mark my return to The Battered Beaver in Kirkwood.

Um, I also spent a good hour onlline today reading about Fernie, in British Columbia, and thinking that just may be the place for me...

Well, I didn't bring the funny, but, you know what?

I don't feel the slightest bit bad about it, because, hey, I read a lot of blogs.

Most of them suck beyond all reckoning.

And I look at this one, and at least I know it is entertaining.

Funky boss funky boss get off my back

My look is getting a little stale.

I am going to spice things up.

With an eyepatch.

And a life-size tattoo of Herve Villichaiz on my back.



A tattoo of Tattoo.

I am so gonna rock your socks off with my new look.

I wish I was the souvenir you kept your housekey on

Girl vs. Treadmill

^I defy you not to laugh at that.