Who's Your Daddy? Issues

My dad's birthday is next week and it dredges up shit every year because I usually go visit him. He's in Elk Grove which is about 20 miles North of nowhere. Recently, it's been coming up in conversation with a friend who is going through a divorce and is concerned about the effect it's going to have on her kids and for me it doesn't need to get in the way of anything anymore.

The last big advancement in dealing with it occurred a couple of years ago and involved accepting the situation as it was and not trying to force it into the typical archetypes that you see on TV sitcoms. It's a little more like Star Wars, which is kinda dramatic, but awesome. And it was'nt very therapy driven. It was basically, just saying to myself that I wasn't going to hate anymore. Hate is a waste of effort...in most cases. Dick Cheney and Loni Anderson still might be hateable.

It is what it is. I'm never going to have a relationship where I can go to him with a personal problem or for money or advice. There will never be the "Dad, I got my girlfriend pregnant what should we do?" talk between us. We'll just stick to the weather, the kids (my brothers) and sports. Occasionally, we talk about alpacas now, but we really don't have a lot in common besides good hair and alpha maleness. An ex on a couple of occasions told me that she had had dreams about my dad where he was holding her in his arms like when a fireman carries someone out of a fire. That's super duper duper weird. Oh, and the closest we ever got to a personal conversation was when we were moving some stuff and he was...holy crap. I just deleted a line because it was too incriminating. Basically, in the conversation he used the word "pussy probation." When your dad says that, it's like watching Porky's with your grandma. It feels kinda gross.

The least I think we owe each other, however, is forgiveness. He was too young for what happened and doesn't need to feel guilty about it anymore (if he does). Shit happens. People change. It's done. I'm fucking over 30 years old and really don't need to be thinking about this shit anymore. He had two kids when he was 19 and left. At 19, I couldn't raise a plant, let alone a couple of kids. I think the only thing really hanging up the whole process is just to talk to each other, but you can tell that we are both deathly afraid of talking about it. Also, funny thing, we will not get wasted with each other. We've never once been drunk at the same time. Contrastingly, I've been housed with my stepdad quite a few times. Actually, fucking tore up with my stepdad.

I'll walk up to a stranger in a public place and make fun of their shoes and basically tell them to fuckoff, but I can't sit down with my dad and say "Hey man. I just want you to know that you had an immensely negative effect on me for a really long time, but I understand and it's all good." Even the fact that we have virtually nothing in common shouldn't get in the way of just kickin' it. I've felt more comfortable in job interviews than in his presence. It's really crazy.

The good news is that I'm not mad anymore. I've let it go and I think he has, too. I guess we just need to tell each other eventually. It's still scary, but it seems attainable.

So, the severely personal douchefest was caused by this article below. I thought it was really good. And my smattering of soppy crap has just felt like a nice cleansing shower. 90% of therapy is just getting it out there. Total strangers just happen to be my sounding board. I just saved $80 by throwing it out here.

David Duchovny: My Defining Moment

Lastly, I'm smitten. It's so hard to act all hot when you are smitten. I wonder if this ever happened to Fonzy or Michael Madsen.

Tongue Tied

A friend sent this youtube link to me and it froze me like a deer in the headlights. I had IMd it to a few friends, but I think it's my job to share this with everyone. It's by the Skatt Bros. and is called "Life at the Outpost."

The good news is that I finally found something that was more unintenional gay than the volleyball scene in Top Gun. At least I don't think the video is trying to be gay. It's just real confusing. Especially when the girl shows up and rides one of the dudes like a horse.

IT Happens

First, the person who found my blog by searching "Taco Penis" is my new hero. I'm also considering "Taco Penis" as a candidate for the next band that I put together, however, "The Gaylords" is still a front runner and the logo is already done for them. I would need to unburn a significant bridge to put that band back together, though. Also, I'd have to purchase the piano from Big.

Second, my chest is on fire. I laid by the pool with no sun screen and had a conversation yesterday and had no idea that I was setting my chest on fire. I took my shirt off last night to go to bed and was in shock at what I was looking at in the mirror. It wasn't just the Handsome shocking me, but also the burn that I had incurred from our sun god, Ra.

Third, The last 72 hours have flipped everything upside down on a personal level. Up is down, right is left, nothing makes sense, but it's all in a good way. It's not that crazy, though. Wheel of Fortune and Fall Out Boy still suck. There is a whole section of my brain that had kind of been mothballed that is all of a sudden active and it's a little uncomfortable and scary as a series of buttons are being pushed and things long since dead are roaring back to life. It's not like clown scary, instead it is like getting a new job or moving to a new place scary. You are super happy to be in the situation you are, but are scared to enjoy it in the event that someone takes it from you or you fuck it up. So, to avoid disappointment or failure, you can just not even take the risk of grabbing it and enjoying it or you can expose your neck and let the cards fall where they may. For once in a longtime, I think I'm going to expose the neck and let the cards fall. It's life's version of 52 Pickup. Basically, I haven't stopped thinking about a person since I met her on Friday. It's great until you put face wash in your hair instead of shampoo. I'm not really acclimated to the whole situation yet, but I sure am acting like an eighth grade girl staring at a boy bander on the back of a CD. It's recockulous. I need to go cruelly make fun of someone in the office to get my negative edge back, but instead, just this once, I'll just sit here and smile dimly while I work this morning. I can't believe I just wrote that previous paragraph and pushed it down the tubes we call the InterWeb, but it's all part of the deal.

National Lampoon's NASA

Fuck It! I want to be an astronaut. Drunk astronauts? That is so rad. That really takes drunk driving to the next level. I don't condone it, but WTF?!?!?!?!?! Astronauts are turning into the fat guys at the party (or International Space Station?) singing Wooly Booly while playing air guitar in a tropical shirt with a lampshade on their fuckin' heads. I'm predicting that sex tapes are the next boot to drop. Who'd a thunk that Lindsey Lohan was on her way to being an astronaut? How do you cut lines of cocaine in space? I think we're about to find out a lot more stuff about astronauting and astronaut enthusiasts.

Ozzfest 07 in one pic

Somehow, Pappy and I managed to turn Ozzfest into a cross between a log ride and the running of the bulls in Pamplona. Thank you to Amy for the pic. The combined age of the jackasses on the ground is about 70 years old.

Ozzfest 07

First of all, I was way too old to be there and had no business having that much fun on a weekday, but here's what went down.

I decided I was responsible enough to drive to the show and in a worst case scenario we could cab it back to my place and my counterpart could still get home in her car if she left it at my apartment. I'm using counterpart in every sense of the word here, too. So, of course, I think she is awesome. I pack an Elvis blanket, some waters, an Arsenal warm up top and some spray on sunscreen. We head to show at 11:00 AM and pick up a twelver of wifebeater light and head to $20 worth of parking. We are four deep by the time we get to the gate to pick up our ticket from Pappy. It might barely be Noon.

The next part of the story may break some rules, but let it be said that we are in the gate with 6 beers in my backpack. That's like $48 worth of beer inside. We meet our group and proceed to the second stage. All the beer is gone by 1:00 PM. Drunk dialing and texting is in full effect as i try and talk a Googler into grabbing a Google bike and coming over for the show. She's not biting at all.

We work our way to the bar and start cocktailing on some Cape Codders for a bit while I talk to strangers. I'm mostly making fun of their emo without them knowing for my own amusement.

We walk around and people watch for a little bit and I put a guy named Big Dave (6' 5") on my shoulders for a picture in fron of the I (heart) vagina booth. There is a pic from that somewhere.

We keep returning to the second stage to check out some of the bands, but most are disappointing or I'm just way too old. Mondo Generator was pretty tight. I remember that.

So, hours are slipping by and we decide to go mark our space on the lawn so we can catch Lordi. They are kind of like Gwar. Very theatrical. I'm fading at this point, which i think is like 6:00 PM. My counterpart and I are starting to get cranky and tired. We're too old for this enduro-drinking. I head up to grab another beer for us and bump into these two girls who I think start trying to clown on me while I wait for an outhouse. I clown back a bit and then head back to the lawn with beers.

My counterpart and I start throwing beer on each other and arguing pretty soon, so she heads for the box with the rest of our group and I sit it out for a while and sober up on the lawn. Three or four songs into Ozzy we are texting each other and ready to bounce. I tell her I will meet her at the car.

As I walk out the two clowning girls are right next to me and tell me to meet them at a bar three blocks from my house. Who could say no to that? I drop off my car and counterpart at home and head to the bar. They are there. They are pleasant and they were born in 1985. I start having reservations and try to avoid any shenanigans. I manage to get home alone which actually became a goal.

It's 1:30 AM and I'm at my door when these two Mexican dudes walk up to me. I'm pretty sure I'm about to get mugged by the dudes who stole my shorts and everything is about to make sense when, through broken Spanish, I realize they just need me to call them a cab because they can't speak English well enough to and they have no idea where they are.

So, I grab a cab number and call it on their cell phone as my phone rings. I answer my phone while I'm waiting for the dispatcher to pickup and am now in two conversations...wait make that three and one is partially in Spanish. On my phone I have one of the girls I was hanging out with. Her friend and her got into an argument and she bailed with no ride and was now down the street from my house crying. On the dudes' phone I've got the cab company and I get them a cab and hand them back their phone turning down a $20 bill they offer me for my help. It feels nice enough to do something nice for my friends from south of the border. I go back to my phone and get the dirt on what's going on with the girl and realize that she is probably going to have to stay at my house that night. Chivalry is not dead, but it misplaced severely sometimes.

Twenty-two year old drama all night chased with a hangover Friday morning means another day of vacation from work. Turns out she lives with her parents and has had a live-in boyfriend for six and a half years. In my head I'm just thinking "What the Fuck!?!?!?!?" I take her home the next day and grab a Squishee from the Kwik-E-Mart in Mountain View which quells the hangover nicely.

On my way home, I start noticing that this hangover is feeling a little severe and unique and chalk it up to enduro-boozing. By Saturday, I'm sweating through my clothes and then getting the chills with a gnarly cough and throat scratch. By Sunday, I've nested onto my couch and my apartment is looking like an opium den. I seriously feel like my weekend is going to turn into some Kafka-esque tragedy of self-discovery as I start to spin some type of cocoon made of Kleenex.

As all of this is happening, I look underneath my desk and see the girl's ID. I'm giving up at this point and just accepting that Ozzfest is never going to end for me. I'm sitting here finally back at work, wanting nothing more than to go home and sleep and thinking that there is going to be a parking ticket in the mail or something from Shoreline, so that my Ozzfest experience can keep carrying on.

As an added bonus to the story, my drunk ATM pulls would rival drunk ATM pulls seen in Vegas. I'm getting way to old for this. WAY TOO OLD.

You Are Here

Wow, I just moved a meeting with ten people tomorrow so that I could go to Ozzfest. Is that growing up? Here are the terms that people are searching on and getting to my blog. It's just disturbing, but really funny.

1. Penis Sours - That is awesome. I wonder what it is in reference to.

2. Mark Morford - He's brilliant.

3. Black Sexual Intercourse - It really takes away from the loving part when it's all technical like that.

4. Dynamo from Trader Joe's - I interned where they made it and love it. It's really RW Knudsen, yo.

5. Herpes on Penis - Poor fucker who had to search on that. Hope you like riding on horses like in the Valtrex commercials.

6. Billy Ocean Romancing the Stone - Obviously, someone looking for the soundtrack.

7. California Senate Bill 1613 - This is gonna be a big deal in a year

Other terms that have been used recently: Optimus Prime Cos play, lame pants, unicorndog, iPod cannot do, best condoms, sexual intercourse, neal schon divorce, couldn't stop myself from lookin' hard.

That last one is awesome. So that's my demographic. Neal Schon, Intercourse, and Optimus Prime cos play.

Planet of Ice

So, I managed to get the new Minus the Bear album, Planet of Ice, early. I don't feel guilty for liberating it because I gave them $20 at their merch booth and it was kind of like pre-ordering the album. Plus, I plan on seeing them this tour, so they'll get their money for their work. I was just getting antsy and wanted to hear it NOW.

1. Burying Luck - There area a lot of guitar toys on this song. There is a pitch bend on like every chord in this song on one of the guitars. This song is hooky with a great scream on the chorus. With lyrics like "The man in the hole/has carried away/the moonlight/cupped in his hands/A time on the water/he's a patient man/as his careful stepping shoes." So, it's about a man in a hole.

2. Ice Monster - They played this on their last tour. It's a cool song with an awesome maraca-clapping breakdown. Spontaneous breakdance-offs could occur at shows. You've been warned.

3. Knights - This song could easily have been on Menos El Oso. Big fan of this as it is quintessential MTB. A lyric sample: "A piece of you for a piece of me/It's hardcoded." It's gotta be about exchanging DNA and breaking even.

4. White Mystery - Bass line is tight and smooth and in the pocket. They use the term "bottle of goodtime" in one of the verses. I like that term. This song comes off like one of their hopeless and desperate love songs about making out on a beach or in a pool or in a laundry room at a Christmas party. They haven't written the latter situation yet, but I'm sure it's in the queue. They have a gift for capturing those moments in their songs. Those moments of lusting for the caterer at a wedding or any of those moments that you feel totally uncomfortable relating to anyone.

5. Dr. L'Ling - SPOILER ALERT: This is a part one in a two part series. This one has been on the InterWeb tubes for a bit. The song rocks. It's got that guitar note bend from "Her Eyes Are a Blue Million Miles" by Captain Beefheart. The song's use of Yeah would make Rob Zombie proud. The song uses the fit of clothing as a metaphor for quality of love. That's pretty good. It also has a lyric about a fear of "Becoming a casual businessman on matters of the heart." This song is chock full of notes. It's going to look like Rush on the Show of Hands tour when they play these songs live.

6. Part 2 - Minus the Bear is brilliant for calling this song Part 2. It resolves the issues brought up in Dr. L'Ling. This song is half of the reason that the InterWebs are saying that this album sounds like Dark Side of the Moon. The beginning of this song totally does. It may be played on the David Gilmour Signature Model Stratocaster. It's about finding that right fit in Tokyo and there is a verse that sounds like sake was just forced into the line, but it's still awesome.

7. Throwin' Shapes - The guitar tone totally reminds me of 311, but that's just a clean Paul Reed Smith, I think. This is another song about the water, swimming, shorelines, boats. These are subjects that Minus the Bear writes about. They love water. Yeah is used effectively again. Even Yeah-heah.

8. When We Escape - So many notes in this song and it is one of the rare Minus the Bear songs that actually has the song title in the lyrics. The arrangement is really cool and dynamic. It's got that Pixies quiet-loud formula to it. Why do all of their songs evoke feelings of longing for something. That might just be me. I might be longing.

9. Double Vision Quest - Best named song on the album. Vision Quest was a tight movie. This song is a bad jam. Again, a lot of notes. If there are any more notes and tapping added to these songs they are going to need to hire Stanley Jordan. That's an inside joke for editors of guitar magazines and new age radio programmers. He's a guy who finger taps pretty much exclusively. He even has a damper on his nut so he can just tap like crazy. Anyway, this song is super cool and the drums just push it all the way through until it picks up into a nutty guitar line. This is pretty typical Minus the Bear, like Knights.

10. Lotus - This is the other half of the reason that the album is being compared to Dark Side of the Moon. It may be the best song on the album. It is really good writing on all accounts. The chord changes are very Pink Floyd in how they drive the accents in the melody. That's just my opinion, though. Three minutes in it turns into a straight up three note per string hammer-on exercise that I think I did when I was in high school. Then, it gets all slow and jammy for a while with some space sounds and gets super Pink Floyd. If you close your eyes you will see walking hammers.

Cool album, though. Minus the Bear fans will not be disappointed. These guys are real good. That's for sure. I'll make sure that I pick up a copy when it comes out so they don't have to dream about gettin' paid and get paid in full.

You can pre-order it here or here.

Hell's Yes

This isn't good for anonymity, but finally made the customer action shot section at ThinkGeek.

I Can't Keep This To Myself

This has got to be shared. Take a half hour today and just click through this and be amazed.

Just Click It. Trust Me.

IHOPpllebee's

This is a friggin' culinary power couple right here.

IHOP to acquire Applebee's for $1.9 BIL @ Yahoo! News

Also, how is it possible that a "neighborhood grill & bar" restaurant like Applebee's could be sold for that much money. Something tells me that there was nothing neighborhoodie about that oasis of epicurean delight.

Sorry. My Bad. I didn't see this power couple.

Romijn, O'Connel' wed in Los Angeles @ Yahoo! News

Because the fat kid from Stand By Me and star of My Secret Identity can marry a hot chick like Rebecca Romijn-Stamos-O'Connell, I am deeming him the Scott Baio of this decade. It makes no sense, but good for him. He should seriously be changing his last name to O'connell-Romijn-Stamos due to the imbalance of power in the relationship.

ChupaCabron

Click the pic to go to the source

First off, an apology for lack of graphical content. I just recently got a new laptop delivered and I am breaking an ass groove into it. Photoshop should be installed tonight or tomorrow and I can start making pictures again. Still need to replace my digi, though. It's a low priority compared to everything else. I only use it for dick-pic responses to Craigslist ads anyway.

So, I've time traveled slightly today and I am remaining an hour ahead of the present...mentally. Still seems far fetched, but this is how it works. I woke up at 5:00 this morning instead of 6:00 because I was having nightmares about exes and someone draining my mutual find via identity theft because I have left my personal effects strewn from one drunken debauchacle to another. I suppose that it is guilt manifesting itself in my subconscious. Whatevs.

So, I couldn't go back to sleep and just got ready for work and went and sat in a Starbucks reading "Vineland" by Thomas Pynchon until it was time to go to work. "Vineland" was in my bag that was stolen recently and I had to reorder it to finish the last 50 pages. It's really good and easier than Gravity's Rainbow, but still has a sliding narrative and suspect timelines, however, much easier than Steve Erickson when it comes to timelines.

Whoa, way off topic. Hold on...So, I got to work and made coffee for the floor and started working at 7:00. The time travel happened an hour ago when it felt like 10:30 and it was only 9:30. It just happened again because it felt like it was 11:30, but it's only 10:25. This time travel is pretty much going to suck at the end of the day when it feels like I'm doing an extra hour on the day. I'd leave early like the champion that I am, but I have a work softball game. It's hardcore beerleague like I have never seen before.

So, the reason I needed to blog this morning was because I hadn't in a while and because there were some things that sucked that I recently saw.

First thing that sucked was the fucking All-Star Game. Watching the All-Star game is like sleeping with a fat girl. You gotta be real drunk to enjoy it and if you are lucky you won't be able to remember it. I'm blaming the All-Star game for my not being able to go back to sleep this morning. Yes, there was an in-the-park home run and Eric Byrnes' bulldog was pretty funny, but everything is wiped out by Joe Buck. Can this man be stopped, PLEASE! He probably talks to himself and adds drama to the situation when he walks up to a urinal and unzips his pants for the first time that day. (In Joe Buck voice) The last time he walked up to a urinal to pee was the day before, but this time it's different as he goes for the 128th piss in 30 days. This is what makes Joe Buck, brought to you by Ford and Doritos, going the bathroom exciting. Sorry for the dramatization and I think you need to read that out loud in his voice to even get it. What a fuckin' sukkadick. I can't stand him.

Then there's Singing Bee vs. Fox's version of Singing Bee. Both of these shows should be on Nickelodeon after Double Dare on a Wednesday at 3:00 PM in 1982. This is not/was not prime-time material, but since You Pick a Suitcase and I Betch Yer Kid is Smarter Than You are getting people to watch them, who could really give a fuck anymore. It's just getting sad. It makes Wheel of Fortune look like a chess tournament.

I managed to rubberneck the first two minutes of Singing Bee with host, Joey Fat One. The Fat One from N'Sync. He would introduce the song like he was introducing advancements of technology in the Industrial Revolution, but instead what came out was "this song was a hit for Bananarama in 1982 and went like this..." Then the band would play one line and the contestants would have to finish the next line. The catch was that it had to be perfect. Like they are fucking Jeopardy questions.

One last thing is that the opening riff of "32 Pennies" by Warrant will take over your life and mentally scar you. I will be sitting in my car and start humming this opening riff all the time. It never leaves me alone like the image of the weird Black Eyed Pea guy. I think he is supposed to be the Indian. I dare you to try and listen to that intro and shake it. It can't be done. It's like that movie in The Ring, but instead of dying you just have to relive the riff over and over again. I guess that would go under the pro tip category or it may be a dare.

Anyway, work is calling and I need to put some links up there. Much more later.

In Search Of...

Here are some of the recent searches that people are using to get to this blog. I love this shit:

-Sisqo
-Boris Vallejo (That's all those homoerotic centaur paintings)
-Sexual Intercourse (Occasionally, that is covered)
-Herpes on Penis (That's kinda random. I'm cool and have the test results to prove it)
-Llama Penis (Don't have one and have the test results to prove it)
-icanhaz (teetering on the edge of the shark jump, but still awesome)
-dan automator (he fucks nothing up and does no wrong)
-leadspringmail.info (spammer)
-tattoo jesus (have no idea how that happened
-Fantasia Centaurs (kinda random, but might be worth a google search)

Have safe and wonderful weekends.

I, LoBot

First off, fires are getting played out. Palo Alto is literally burning down and the Peninsula is on fire. It's getting hard to concentrate around here.

Next off, I was thinking that with the headset in cars law coming up in July '08 that maybe we could pass a law that says that if you are not in a car and are in public that you have to use your handset rather than publicly humiliating yourself by using your BlueToof headset. They are down to $30 retail for most phones and are not a sign of status anymore. So, please put them in your glovebox and step away from the car. You look like LoBot from Empire Strikes Back. You only found out his name if you read the credits or bought the action figure, but I assure you he is a bad ass...hold on...googling LoBot FanFiction. Yep. Lobot fanfiction. Holy crud. There is fanfiction for everything. Go ahead try and stump the Interweb with a fanfic search on 1-800-flowers. Actually, give me twenty minutes. I'm writing it right now. I'm also sketching out an outline for fanfiction devoted to the R2-D2 mailbox.

Last off, I've been not-dating someone for the sole fact that I shouldn't be dating anyone right now, but feel bad that I'm undateable because the other person (for some reason) thinks I'm a'ight. I, personally, see the situation as going nowhere and am subconsciously doing things to throw shots across the bow to protect the other person from the inevitable cold shouldering and under-the-breath commenting that will more than likely be the end result of the whole situation. I would love to stay friends with the other person involved, but that never really works out. Someone always takes it personal when it really isn't anyone's fault. Stuff just doesn't work out sometimes and you just aren't in as much control as you ever think you are. Nuts and Gum are never going to work out, no matter how much therapy you put the nuts through. Also, Paula Abdul and that cartoon cat eventually had a falling out, even though opposites do attract. Opposites never attract over the long term and really only amount to a one night stand for the conquest sex type person or maybe a few months until annoyances bubble up and manifest themselves as a fight of fish vs. chicken or cold vs. warm or fuck, mu shu chicken vs. chicken chow mein.

Anyway, I think it's near an end because the other morning I woke up and she had left for the first time ever. In addition, all of her clothes were gone. That's a first. Normally, Fridates last until at least Sunday evening. The kicker, though, is that I've been finding stuff around my house that she had returned without telling me. It's super weird. I keep finding stuff around. Maybe I should just clean more.

Regardless, I'm hoping for a soft nose-up crash landing with minor cuts and abrasions rather than an endo combined with a nard pack off of a homemade jump on a Huffy with mushroom grips that ends with someone running inside the house and crying to their mother. Wow, that was a flashback.

Eelarious Eadline

This headline is awesome. To assault someone with an energy drink because you are too embarrassed to buy condoms is definitely a cry for help.

"Clerk assaulted with can of Rock Star energy drink, robbers flee with condoms" from the San Jose Mercury.