Good times Mondays are. Good times. Yes Yoda, good times Mondays are.
So. Let's talk about this weekend.
On second thought, lets not. I think today we should concentrate on a most amazing discovery made Friday night. Jimmy Buffett, yes, that Jimmy Buffett, has created his own beer, called Land Shark. Not surprisingly, it is very Corona-ish. In a not unrelated discovery, vicious hangovers are possible when you accidentally drink a bars supply of a new beer.
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As you last few Celtics fans out there may know, today has been a frenzy of hitting refresh on celticsblog, waiting breathlessly to hear the latest Kevin Garnett rumor. The last rumor that I heard had the Celts giving up Al Jefferson, Gerald Green, Ryan Gomes, Sebastian Telfair, Theo Ratliff, and two picks for Garnett. That's a ton to give up, but I still think you make the deal. A core of Paul Pierce, Ray Allen, Kevin Garnett, and Rajon Rondo, no matter who the other players on the team are, would compete at the very least for the Eastern Conference Champs. Can't wait for all the other "Celtics" fans to come out of the woodworks. (Just like I became a Pats fan around the Brady era...)
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This fucking heat is killing me. Believe it or not, it's making me even crankier than I always am. Yes, this is when you should start feeling bad for the wifey.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Batshit Crazy singer girl
No, I'm not talking about anyone you know. And certainly not anyone that any of us have dated.
Nope. I'm talking about a certifiably nuts girl who has put out an album that I simply can not stop listening to. Amy Winehouse's "Back to Black" is a great listen.. So long as you can get by the fact that the artist is going to end up in an insane asylum sooner rather than later. As I don't really listen to live radio all that often, I'm pretty often the last to hear of new artists. I had never heard of Amy Winehouse until she was on the front page of Rolling Stone. (Yes, I'm one of the last who still subscribe to RS. Shut up.) In the article, well, let's just say that she comes off as fairly nutso. In a "cutter", raging alcoholic, seriously mentally unstable, cross to the other side of the street when you see her sort of way.
Hearing the names of her songs did nothing to make me run out and buy her album. They sounded like typical weepy pop schmaltz of the oh no my boyfriend's left me variety.
Then I heard a couple of her songs, and was blown away. True, the lyrics are definitely of the typical weepy pop schmaltz of the oh no my boyfriend's left me variety, with the addition that she throws in the fact that she basically is drinking away all pain. And that everyone she knows wants her to go to rehab. So the lyrics are at best unimpressive. The voice though. Holy shit can this girl sing. She sounds like a cross between Macy Gray and Stevie Nicks, if they smoked a pack a day and drank way too much whiskey. Seriously, the voice is worth listening to, so long as you aren't bothered by the fact that these songs will be exhibit A on Amy Winehouse's VH1 Behind the Music any day now.
You heard it hear, well, not first.
Nope. I'm talking about a certifiably nuts girl who has put out an album that I simply can not stop listening to. Amy Winehouse's "Back to Black" is a great listen.. So long as you can get by the fact that the artist is going to end up in an insane asylum sooner rather than later. As I don't really listen to live radio all that often, I'm pretty often the last to hear of new artists. I had never heard of Amy Winehouse until she was on the front page of Rolling Stone. (Yes, I'm one of the last who still subscribe to RS. Shut up.) In the article, well, let's just say that she comes off as fairly nutso. In a "cutter", raging alcoholic, seriously mentally unstable, cross to the other side of the street when you see her sort of way.
Hearing the names of her songs did nothing to make me run out and buy her album. They sounded like typical weepy pop schmaltz of the oh no my boyfriend's left me variety.
Then I heard a couple of her songs, and was blown away. True, the lyrics are definitely of the typical weepy pop schmaltz of the oh no my boyfriend's left me variety, with the addition that she throws in the fact that she basically is drinking away all pain. And that everyone she knows wants her to go to rehab. So the lyrics are at best unimpressive. The voice though. Holy shit can this girl sing. She sounds like a cross between Macy Gray and Stevie Nicks, if they smoked a pack a day and drank way too much whiskey. Seriously, the voice is worth listening to, so long as you aren't bothered by the fact that these songs will be exhibit A on Amy Winehouse's VH1 Behind the Music any day now.
You heard it hear, well, not first.
Monday, July 23, 2007
Am I back? Am I really, really back?
Maybe.
See, the problem is, it's Monday and I'm already out of things to write about. Fucking lame ass life and it's no story lines.
Part of my problem is, not surprisingly, exhaustion. I just got back at it again after 3 weeks off, the first time since I was 14 that I had that much time off. I enjoyed my time off. Really, really enjoyed my time off. Forcing myself to work again has been a grind.
See, our honeymoon spoiled the shit out of me. We went to one of those all-inclusive places in Mexico where they wait on you hand and foot, bringing you drinks, food, or anything else you want at all hours of the day. Instead of spending my days staring bleary eyed into a computer screen, I spent my days lazing by or in the pool, drinking Don Julio margaritas. If I was feeling powerfully motivated, I would play beach volleyball in the afternoon. Our hardest decision for seven days was, which restaurant should we go to, followed by should we go to the pool or the beach? (Actually the most difficult part of the trip was the toplessness of the sun bathing. Boobies were everywhere. And trust me, most of them were boobies that should have been left well under wraps. I felt like putting on my shirt in protest.)
So.. Needless to say re-adjusting myself to alarm clocks and deadlines has been a bit, well, shitty. Maybe it's time for another vacation.
See, the problem is, it's Monday and I'm already out of things to write about. Fucking lame ass life and it's no story lines.
Part of my problem is, not surprisingly, exhaustion. I just got back at it again after 3 weeks off, the first time since I was 14 that I had that much time off. I enjoyed my time off. Really, really enjoyed my time off. Forcing myself to work again has been a grind.
See, our honeymoon spoiled the shit out of me. We went to one of those all-inclusive places in Mexico where they wait on you hand and foot, bringing you drinks, food, or anything else you want at all hours of the day. Instead of spending my days staring bleary eyed into a computer screen, I spent my days lazing by or in the pool, drinking Don Julio margaritas. If I was feeling powerfully motivated, I would play beach volleyball in the afternoon. Our hardest decision for seven days was, which restaurant should we go to, followed by should we go to the pool or the beach? (Actually the most difficult part of the trip was the toplessness of the sun bathing. Boobies were everywhere. And trust me, most of them were boobies that should have been left well under wraps. I felt like putting on my shirt in protest.)
So.. Needless to say re-adjusting myself to alarm clocks and deadlines has been a bit, well, shitty. Maybe it's time for another vacation.
Friday, July 20, 2007
Well. At least THAT'S done with
So my many legions of fans have been knocking down my door screaming for more bloggity blog. While in the lead up to the wedding and it's aftermath (also known as a honeymoon), I was in no real shape to write anything even remotely entertaining. Unless you consider my slow disintegration into a babbling, drooling mess entertaining. (And yes, I know that most of you would be perfectly entertained by this. And I love you for it.)
So. The wedding. It's a weird thing being at your own wedding. There's really no way to prepare for it I guess, but it was still not like anything I expected. I was never really nervous, never had cold feet or anything like that. I was ready for a beer by the time we got mid way through the picture taking, but that's about it. Once we got to the reception it was really nothing but fun.
The only problem for me was that I didn't get a chance to hang out with some people as much as I wanted to. I didn't particularly feel like there was anyone I didn't see though. (Except the wifey. I couldn't keep up with her if my life depended on it. Everytime I almost caught up with her, someone would start talking to me, and I'd look up and she was on the other side of the room again. A lesser man than myself might have started to get a complex.)
People talk about how they can't remember things about their wedding, that it happened too fast. For me, that really wasn't the case. Things certainly weren't going by too quickly. Actually, it sometimes seemed like time wasn't moving at all. I'd like down at my phone for a time check, and it would be five minutes after the last time I checked, instead of the hours it felt like. When people started leaving, and it was time to go back to the hotel, it felt like about the right time.
As far as remembering things, I have plenty of vivid memories. (Some are a little too vivid, like John's vest/tie combo back at the hotel, followed by several tie/skin combos exhibited by several people. I think I just threw up in my mouth.)
But to be honest, almost all of the stress leading up to the wedding was worth it. We had a great time, and it seemed like everybody else did too. Thank god, because we thought that we had the real potential for a fuck show at a couple different points.
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I'll write about the honeymoon another time. Let's just say that couples only/ all-inclusive is a great thing. Waiting for lines at Customs/Security/Check-in on the way back? Not as great of a thing.
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So I'm back. Am I better than ever? Doubt it. Am I about the same? That's what it feels like to me right now, but I'm only in my second day back on the job. I still haven't adjusted to the ring on my finger, but the married part of it seems about the same. I still don't get to make any of my own decisions, and it's yet to be seen if God loves us anymore now that we are no longer living in sin. The wifey seems to be adapting to the new last name just fine, and no, we aren't becoming baby factories yet.
So. The wedding. It's a weird thing being at your own wedding. There's really no way to prepare for it I guess, but it was still not like anything I expected. I was never really nervous, never had cold feet or anything like that. I was ready for a beer by the time we got mid way through the picture taking, but that's about it. Once we got to the reception it was really nothing but fun.
The only problem for me was that I didn't get a chance to hang out with some people as much as I wanted to. I didn't particularly feel like there was anyone I didn't see though. (Except the wifey. I couldn't keep up with her if my life depended on it. Everytime I almost caught up with her, someone would start talking to me, and I'd look up and she was on the other side of the room again. A lesser man than myself might have started to get a complex.)
People talk about how they can't remember things about their wedding, that it happened too fast. For me, that really wasn't the case. Things certainly weren't going by too quickly. Actually, it sometimes seemed like time wasn't moving at all. I'd like down at my phone for a time check, and it would be five minutes after the last time I checked, instead of the hours it felt like. When people started leaving, and it was time to go back to the hotel, it felt like about the right time.
As far as remembering things, I have plenty of vivid memories. (Some are a little too vivid, like John's vest/tie combo back at the hotel, followed by several tie/skin combos exhibited by several people. I think I just threw up in my mouth.)
But to be honest, almost all of the stress leading up to the wedding was worth it. We had a great time, and it seemed like everybody else did too. Thank god, because we thought that we had the real potential for a fuck show at a couple different points.
---
I'll write about the honeymoon another time. Let's just say that couples only/ all-inclusive is a great thing. Waiting for lines at Customs/Security/Check-in on the way back? Not as great of a thing.
---
So I'm back. Am I better than ever? Doubt it. Am I about the same? That's what it feels like to me right now, but I'm only in my second day back on the job. I still haven't adjusted to the ring on my finger, but the married part of it seems about the same. I still don't get to make any of my own decisions, and it's yet to be seen if God loves us anymore now that we are no longer living in sin. The wifey seems to be adapting to the new last name just fine, and no, we aren't becoming baby factories yet.
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