Daylight Savings Time

Me thinks...



Asshole idea.


Anyone concur?


I'm going to Arizona on Thanksgiving Day. After I cook the "Feast of a Lifetime" - I'm actually gonna take MARTA to the airport at 1600 and hit the runway close to that. Should get me to the desert around 1600. Good going over, bad coming back. If you don't know, Arizona does not practice the pagen/neo-con ideas that some of us must heed.

The freaks are out en-masse tonight - go figure. I guess the reason nobody came to my door is because there is a pad-lock on the gate with a sign that says, "Trick or Treat - Ring my door and get a .22 in your seat." Hmmmm, maybe a little harsh, but you should hear the shIIIIite outside my window right now.

Surely, a Wily God

I found a tail. A squirrel tail that is - and there was no squirrel attached to it. Linus has been somewhat evasive. Me thinks ----- yup, Circle of Life.

Speaking of life, my cousin, my friend, lost his Mum to cancer on Thursday. I cannot be too sympathtic because I will lose it. Then what good would I be? Since I could have lost my Mum to cancer this year, it's like a good emotional paradox: hard not to be grateful for what you have and, at the same time, feel sorrowful for a friend who is feeling lost.

Must be the Italian in me, but I've decided I would try to cheer him up with... FOOD! Comfort food, that is. Considering he was raised in the South, I figured Mac n' Cheese with country ham, black-eyed pea salad and bread pudding with bourbon sauce. There are enough calories, fat, and pure good sugar in this little menu, it is bordeline suicide, but what the hey?

I found a construction manager job in England on Friday. Not excited at all about England (I need the sun on occasion and the cost of living means I'll be living in a matchbox), but I applied anyway. Scary to think leaving the warm nest of Georgia Tech, but American life is really getting bad when your life-long Republican father says he's voting Democrat in the next election. To quote my pal, JS, "Whaaaaa?". I had been somewhat apprehensive about going to Pop's yesterday because I didn't want to listen to his Pro-George garbage. But, I wasn't in the house 10 minutes when he made that declaration. Funny, but the rest of the afternoon, we just hung out and talked politics, religion and all the other taboo stuff that we've disagreed on for the past ???? years. Like I said, definately time to move on.

Oh yeah, and talk about a backfire - I rented a car to go to Augusta because the little Honda needs a tune-up and, until I get one, I'm suffering terrible gas mileage. So I request this itty-bitty Geo thing that gets, like - 45 mpg. I get to the rental place Friday night and the poor schmoo behind the counter gleefully tells me that he's giving me a free DOUBLE upgrade. I told him I didn't want a big car (hence ruining my idea of good gas mileage). Well, tough. Hurricane Wilma has sent most of Hertz's fleet to S. Florida and I get what I get - a MONSTER auto-mo-beel. This thing can carry five hunters, the dead eight-point buck they shot, AND the keg. Needless to say, I'm not familiar with driving this size car so getting into Pop's circular driveway was interesting to say the least.

Dining room reno is way behind schedule. As the contractor, the labourer, the scheduler, AND the O-W-N-E-R of this particular project, I am obviously upset on various different levels. I really should have seen this mess coming. Timing really sucks because I really wanted to go to Tallulah Gorge and white water raft next weekend (the Corps of Engineers opens the dam the first week of April and November and the waterfall alone is enough to take your breathe away). Ah well, my boys are playing Saturday night so the Gorge will have to wait.

And I still can't figure out why my photos don't post. IT stuff is not - I say - not my forte. However, cooking comfort food is - so back to it.

Naughty Boys

Scooter got popped. Damn - perjury and obstruction of justice among other charges. Bad, bad Scooter. Did you actually think you could get away with lying to a Grand Jury? Probably. Now, if they could just pop Rove. I'd say between this little tussle and then the Harriet Miers mess, George is having a bad day.


Now, here's another little monster - but I love this guy. If I had a kid, he would most likely be a little Calvin... (do right mouse, then click "view image" to see the whole thing- until I learn how to save crap to the Internet).

No, I Don't Need these Brain Cells

Oh My! Did I underestimate this dining room reno job or what? I have totally forgotten the physical labour of stripping wood- especially wood with 100-year old paint on everything. Granted, it will look so much better than where I didn't strip the wood, but damn.

Lest we forget the fumes from the paint stripper.

Cheap buzz.

I have to step outside every twenty minutes or so or I'll pass out. Oh yeah, and I didn't notice that this room has four, count 'em f-o-u-r doors and two huge windows when I was deliriously determining the schedule for completion. We're talkin' THREE coats of stripper for each section. Of course, then I get to inhale the strip wash. I think the cats are pretty fucked up on this stuff. I tried to keep them out of the dining room, but when ladders are around, watch out.

Bill Cosby, Again

OK, now I've heard it all... man, is this going to make me sound O-L-D.

I heard a song on VH-1 this weekend by Kanye West (yes, that bratty-ass Rapper who some in Atlanta call "home boy".) He has a song out called, "Golddigger". Well, because VH-1 has to delete the word he uses to rhyme with the last two syllables of "Golddigger", my stupid, foggy, dipshit brain didn't figure out the true lyrics until Saturday (thanks to Roomie for the insight). Get this:

Jamie Foxx]
She take my money well I'm in need
Yeah she's a triflin friend indeed
Oh she's a gold digger way over town
That digs on me

[Chorus:]
(She take me money)
Now I aint sayin she a gold digger (Well I'm in Need)
But she aint messin wit no broke niggaz(She take me money)
Now I aint sayin she a gold digger (When I'm in Need)
but she aint messin wit no broke niggaz(i gotta leave)
get down girl go head get down (I gotta leave)
get down girl go head get down (I gotta leave)
get down girl go head get down (I gotta leave)
get down girl go head


[Verse 1:]
Cutie the bomb
Met her at a beauty salon
With a baby louis vuitton
Under her underarm
She said I can tell you rock
I can tell by ya charm
Far as girls you got a flock
I can tell by ya charm and ya arm
but I'm lookin for the one
have you seen her
My psychic told me she'll have a ass like Serena
Trina, Jennifer Lopez, four kids
An I gotta take all they bad ass to show-biz
Ok get ya kids but then they got their friends
I Pulled up in the Benz, they all got up in
We all went to din and then I had to pay
If you fuckin with this girl then you betta be paid
You know why
It take too much to touch her
From what I heard she got a baby by Busta
My best friend say she use to fuck wit Usher
I dont care what none of ya'll say I still love her

[Chorus:]
(She take me money)
Now I aint sayin she a gold digger (Well I'm in Need)
But she aint messin wit no broke niggaz(She take me money)
Now I aint sayin she a gold digger (When I'm in Need)
but she aint messin wit no broke niggaz(i gotta leave)
get down girl go head get down (I gotta leave)
get down girl go head get down (I gotta leave)
get down girl go head get down (I gotta leave)
get down girl go head


[Verse 2:]
18 years, 18 years
She got one of yo kids got you for 18 years
I know somebody payin child support for one of his kids
His baby momma's car and crib is bigger than his
You will see him on TV Any Given Sunday
Win the Superbowl and drive off in a Hyundai
She was spose to buy ya shorty TYCO with ya money
She went to the doctor got lipo with ya money
She walkin around lookin like Michael with ya money
Should of got that insured, GEICO for ya moneeey( your money)
If you aint no punk holla We Want Prenup
WE WANT PRENUP!, Yeaah
It's something that you need to have
Cause when she leave yo ass she gone leave with half
18 years, 18 years
And on the 18th birthday he found out it wasn't his

[Chorus:]
(She take me money)
Now I aint sayin she a gold digger (Well I'm in Need)
But she aint messin wit no broke niggaz(She take me money)
Now I aint sayin she a gold digger (When I'm in Need)
but she aint messin wit no broke niggaz(i gotta leave)
get down girl go head get down (I gotta leave)
get down girl go head get down (I gotta leave)
get down girl go head get down (I gotta leave)
get down girl go head


[Verse 3:]
Now I aint sayin you a gold digger you got needs
You dont want a dude to smoke but he can't buy weed
You go out to eat and he cant pay yall cant leave
There's dishes in the back, he gotta roll up his sleeves
But while yall washin watch him
He gone make it into a Benz out of that Datsun
He got that ambition baby look in his eyes
This week he moppin floorz next week it's the friers
So, stick by his side
I know his dude's ballin but yea thats nice
And they gone keep callin and tryin
But you stay right girl
But when you get on he leave yo ass for a white girl

Get down girl go head get down
Get down girl go head get down
get down girl go head get down
[she take my money]
Let me here that back

Holy Shit! Forget for a moment that the lyrics are somewhat misogynstic, but I was always taught never to use the "N" word because it was offensive to black folks. So how is it black folks can not only use the word, but they can glorify it in a Number One song? Mum says they use it because they can and whitey can't. What kind of trash is that. Remember this quote from Bill Cosby?


Cosby says, "People who are worried about what white people hear Bill Cosby saying have their heads in the sand," he said. "Do you really think that white people — while riding on the bus, listening to our people get out of school, hearing them use profanity, watching how they address each other with 'nigger' — don't know? You think that these white people don't go back and tell their friends about the horrors of having to ride the bus?"


And if that weren't bad enough (yup, sounding really old now) check out this little ditty by the Black Eyed Peas...


BEPs, "What you gon’ do with all that junk?
All that junk inside your trunk?
I’ma get, get, get, get, you drunk,
Get you love drunk off my hump.
My hump, my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump,
My hump, my hump, my hump, my lovely little lumps. (Check it out)

I drive these scrubbers crazy,
I do it on the daily,
They treat me really nicely,
They buy me all these ice-ys.
Dolce & Gabbana,
Fendi and then Donna
Karen, they be sharin’
All their money got me wearin’
Fly gearrr but I ain’t askin,
They say they love my ass ‘n,
Se7en Jeans, True Religion,
I say no, but they keep givin’
So I keep on takin’
And no I ain’t fakin’
We can keep on datin’
I keep on demonstrating.

My love, my love, my love, my love
You love my lady lumps,
My hump, my hump, my hump,
My humps they got u,
She’s got me spending.
(Oh) Spendin’ all your money on me and spending time on me.
She’s got me spendin’.
(Oh) Spendin’ all your money on me, on me, on me

What you gon’ do with all that junk?
All that junk inside that trunk?
I’ma get, get, get, get, you drunk,
Get you love drunk off my hump.
What u gon’ do with all that ass?
All that ass inside them jeans?
I’m a make, make, make, make you scream
Make u scream, make you scream.
Cos of my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump.
My hump, my hump, my hump, my lovely lady lumps. (Check it out)

I met a girl down at the disco.
She said hey, hey, hey yea let’s go.
I could be your baby, you can be my honey
Lets spend time not money.
I mix your milk wit my cocoa puff,
Milky, milky cocoa,

Mix your milk with my cocoa puff, milky, milky riiiiiiight.

They say I’m really sexy,
The boys they wanna sex me.
They always standing next to me,
Always dancing next to me,
Tryin’ a feel my hump, hump.
Lookin’ at my lump, lump.
U can look but you can’t touch it,
If u touch it I’ma start some drama,
You don’t want no drama,
No, no drama, no, no, no, no drama
So don’t pull on my hand boy,
You ain’t my man, boy,
I’m just tryn’a dance boy,
And move my hump.

My hump, my hump, my hump, my hump,
My hump, my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump.
My lovely lady lumps x3
In the back and in the front.
My lovin’ got u,
She’s got me spendin’.
(Oh) Spendin’ all your money on me and spending time on me.
She’s got me spendin’.
(Oh) Spendin’ all your money on me, on me, on me.

What you gon’ do with all that junk?
All that junk inside that trunk?
I’ma get, get, get, get you drunk,
Get you love drunk off my hump.
What you gon’ do with all that ass?
All that ass inside them jeans?
I’ma make, make, make, make you scream
Make you scream, make you scream.
What you gon do with all that junk?
All that junk inside that trunk?
I’ma get, get, get, get you drunk,
Get you love drunk off this hump.
What you gon’ do wit all that breast?
All that breast inside that shirt?
I’ma make, make, make, make you work
Make you work, work, make you work.
She’s got me spendin’.
Spendin all your money on me and spendin’ time on me
She’s got me spendin’.
Spendin’ all your money on me, on me, on me.


You must be kidding me. Are 12-year old girls listening to this? I swear, I do not know how I could raise a kid around this garbage.

Rant over.

Squirrels, Scooter, and a Hip Hop Anthem

Well, my squirrels were released on Sunday. Cute little buggers, but I haven't seen them since. Sadly, I read yesterday that squirrels remember where they were born and return there to have their own litters. Had I fucking known that I would have taken them back to Tech - but nnooooo, I had to release them six miles away and the only thing between the house and Tech is the concrete jungle known as the City of Atlanta. Good luck, guys! I guess tree-hopping through downtown is probably safer than taking MARTA anyway.


On another subject, no grown man should be called, "Scooter". When I hear that word, I think of a cat that just came out of the cat box and has a turd stuck to its fur. Since cats aren't real good with the reach-around, they turn into a "Scooter" on the carpet. I truly hope Scooter, Rove, and that seriously evil dick Cheney all spend a couple of long months as the girlfriends to some convict named Bubba Riley in the Federal Pen. Actually, I wish Valerie Plame would illicit some of her badass CIA shit on all of 'em.


And if this don't beat 'em all - Atlanta announced its new "anthem" at last night's Falcon's game. Check it out http://alt.cimedia.com/ajc/audio/atlantaanthem.mp3, but please, please do not give me any shit as I had nothing - nothing to do with this barf tune. I cannot believe the State Song of Georgia is the lovely "Georgia on My Mind" by Ray Charles, but Atlanta has to come up with this little ditty. Some folks are calling it "too ethnic". What a euphamism that is.


Well, thanks to Ludo for stopping by last night!! We had a great time at dinner - and this time it didn't cost $175! I also appreciate you showing me your designs - some of them are really phenomenial. I might steal one to use as the wallpaper in the dining room. Speaking of dining rooms - time to get back to it. Ciao

Bird Flu

A little ditty from my pal at Yorkshire Soul...




A health spokesman said yesterday, "'E's not pinin'! 'E's passed on! This parrot is no more! He has ceased to be! 'E's expired and gone to meet 'is maker! 'E's a stiff! Bereft of life, 'e rests in peace! If you hadn't nailed 'im to the perch 'e'd be pushing up the daisies! 'Is metabolic processes are now 'istory! 'E's off the twig! 'E's kicked the bucket, 'e's shuffled off 'is mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleedin' choir invisibile!! THIS IS AN EX-PARROT!!

Probably not that funny to some paranoid folks.

My Boys...

Jon Stewart is a genius. He always has the kindest things to say about MY favourite president, Dip Shit. His diatribe the other night was brilliant as he pondered the question, "If Iran has nuclear weapons (aka weapons of mass destruction), why aren't we going there to oust their leader? What about China?". The answer... we don't have any armed forces left. Great, just great. So proud to carry that goddamn blue passport.


Then there's...



This unsavory character is Lewis Black. He too spares no kind words for George so once again, he's a hero in my book.


Then there's


Carlos Mencia, who will make you cry he's so good. His jokes are completely, across the board, offensive to every nationality, race, or religion. NOBODY is exempt. Check out some of his rants at http://www.comedycentral.com/comedians/browse/m/carlos_mencia.jhtml.



And lastly - my boys from 20 - yup, twenty years ago...



New album and most likely, their last tour, which is coming here on November 5th (thank God that's a Saturday). When I called Baby Bro to ask him what the Gwinnett Center was like, he said not to worry about getting tickets as everyone who would want to see Depeche Mode is probably too old to be going to a concert. Thanks, ButtMunch.

Anyway, had a good quiet weekend with my Mum in town. We went to dinner both Saturday and Sunday night and she left this morning. I wish I could have crawled into her suitcase. These next four weeks are going to be torture as I try in vain to finish this goddamn dining room. Of course, the balmy weather we've been enjoying left around 3 AM and the wind started kicking up around 35 mph. Yeah, yeah, at least I'm not in south Florida. But, the wind is blowing the pecans out of the trees and it sounds like central Baghdad outside. Not comforting when you live in the 'hood.

Oh well, looks like it's time to get back to the most boring job on the planet. If I can't get a construction job in Europe by Spring, I'm leaving for Fiji with two of my cats. I'll get a job cleaning hotel rooms or waiting tables. Anything is better than this.

On a bright note, I've managed to lose even another 5 pounds this past week. I guess there is one silver lining around the mono cloud. Who would have guessed. Eight months on a treadmill, running like a hamster on crack - 3 miles a day - and nothing. Then, get sick and drop 30 lbs in four weeks. God can be so wily sometimes.

Oh yeah, and the squirrels were released yesterday. I haven't seen them since they crawled up the Dogwood tree, but I do hope these past six weeks have not been in vain. I am waiting to walk outside one morning and see that Linus has decided to leave them for my breakfast. Now, that would be a wily God thing to do.

Finally!

After three days of pulling out my hair, I finally got the damn squirrel pictures posted to the blog. What a total pain in the ass that was. Of course, if I had been blogging of late, I would have remembered how to do it. I guess it's not a smart thing to be screwing around with IT stuff when you have brain fry.

Speaking of brain fry - today marks just about two weeks since I started getting sick. Unfortunately, I'm one of those who doesn't want to listen to the bod when it starts to break down and instead of sitting around on my ass - I chose to renovate my dining room. Well, let me tell you - the bod won out today as I was as sick as sick can get. So sit on our ass is what is on the agenda for tonight - and maybe even tomorrow. Not like work will miss me.

Actually, work went pretty well this morning. One of the projects that I refused to be a part of, went legal and today was the first day of court for some of my former colleagues. Why is that good? Because the Moe-Rons that initiated the project in the beginning started off so backward-ass, that it was only a matter of time. What a shame - a 65 Million dollar pooch screw.

Oh yeah, and also today, we got a lecture from the Georgia ADA folks that NO longer will they turn a blind eye to our projects not being 100% accessible. This really got my former boss right in the pants - snicker snicker. They now have to put an elevator into the next renovation they are doing. But since they planned on starting this renovation in December and they simply can't pull an additional $1 mil out of their pockets, I think the job will get moved. Ohhhhh, so sad.

Enough. Time to check out what Jon and they boys are up to on Daily Show. Oh yeah, and if you haven't caught the new show, "They Call Me Earle", it is absolutely hilarious.

Pandora's Return

Holy shit - I didn't realize it had been so long since I burped up stories on my blog. What a slacker. Lots going on, but not very quickly as I am down with another mono relapse. If you don't know, mono S-U-U-U-C-K-S - it totally saps you of all your energy while making you feel like you've been run down by a Mack Truck. Yoga - even some of the easiest postures - are a no-go and just doing laundry is a bee-atch. OH YEAH - and it gives you brain-fry so don't expect much on this first blog out (no comments from the peanut gallery regarding my natural brain-fry, please).

Anyway, I figured since I'm stuck behind the computer doing tax crap, I'd see if I could access blogger and voila! So - without further ado - I present to you

Larry - Moe and Curly





They actually survived (better than me as it turns out) from the Vermont trip or as it had been known, "The Joe and Lia Show". This was a very fine week in the Northeast and if the news agencies haven't already showered everyone with stories, I probably will over the next few days - that's if Ms. Brain-Fry can remember the password to the blogger site.

It has been as crazy a three days back as it was the entire eight days gone. Things in HotLanta are really not that hot. Why do you ask? Where do we start?

Work - How in the hell did I wind up with a job that pays me a good bit of money to do nothing while working for one of the nicest guys ever placed on earth? This little mantra of mine was repeated more times than folks really wanted to hear at the wedding, but it struck me particularly hard when I struggled back to work yesterday. According to my boss, the City of Atlanta has had no communication with our office in two weeks - this from a time where we were getting DAILY utility cut-off notices, credit notices (although I'm not sure how you report Georgia Tech to a credit agency) and sometimes - on those good days - someone would get served a subpoena. To not have any calls, letters, notes, whatnot??? So I'm told it's because I've bombarded the City with issues that fall on their watch and they have called back the dogs. OK - this may sound somewhat sophist, but that's the equivalent to the US Air Force dropping nukes on a school of elderly alzheimer's patients (and not to say I'm like the US Air Force, but you get the relevance.) But, I'm bored. This job is not fun and everyone should have a fun job. Everyone says, "Why are you bitching? You have it made." Actually, the grass might actually have been greener on the other side than I thought. At least I could have had fun making Fran's life hell on earth. Oh - and to add pain (or kudos depending on your perception), my former collegues told me that one of the best Construction Managers in the business asked for me on this job they just bid! Of course, I'm NOT in construction anymore. But what a pretty feather that was for moi.

Spanky and The City - Boy howdie, did I come close to asking Baby Bro to sell Spanky. There is simply too much to do and - dare I say it - I'm feeling really old. There is also so much bullshit involved in establishing a regentrified area ESPECIALLY when you're trying to do it in Neo-Con Country. For example, as we blog, there are these mini-wars between the municipalities that want to incorporate, the City of Atlanta, and Fulton County. My boss is one of those ITP(inside the Perimeter)- burbanites. He makes his case to me sometimes if there's a real hot-button issue in the media, but I just don't get the whole thing. Now, as an Urban Pioneer, we have a chance to have light rail come right by our neighbourhood and there are these brutal battles occurring where - well, let's just say, some folks don't want to pay their portion of the tax because they aren't ready to support some of the places where the rail will run. OH SHIT - you mean, Bubba-the-Crack-Dealer can't get to Buckhead on the new Beltline? PLEASE. If someone - besides die-hard Capitalists - could explain this to me. I must have been smoking a joint during that Civics class.

Back to Spanky - hmmmm, where do we start? How about a (very bad) picture:





That's MY yard, not Fred Sanford's. Those of you that have been here know that normally you can see down to the garden. However, those long, wooden sticks covered with leaves are pecan branches that have fallen over the Summer. Yes, I'm thankful they did not fall on Spanky, but please. We already cut a nearly a cord with the limbs that came down in the Spring. Here's something ironic - One of the main reasons I loved Spanky was for the duel fireplaces. So, after four years, I had someone come out this Spring to give me a price on securing them for burning wood. At the time, I was actually concerned about paying for the wood I'd need over the winter. Well, Guido's price came in way too high so I blew him off. Now I've got enough wood to heat the entire Alaskan tundra, but no place to burn it.

The focus of renovation has majorly shifted to the dining room (after all, you can't do construction in a basement where you're raising squirrels). Anyway, this should be the coolest room in the house to do. LOTS of plaster work, which will be interesting. I was even thinking - during bouts of admitted delirium - about ripping out the wall between the dining room and kitchen and opening it up. But there is this killer brick oven stack that I really don't want to mess with. There's also the issue of T-I-M-E. Apparently, Spanky will be hosting guests at Thanksgiving. More on that in another rant.

With regard to the dining room, I will need some suggestions. I think I will forgo the "period" norm of wainscotting, chair, elaborate crown, half ventian plaster/half wallpaper (Sadly, I've never hung wall paper and I could only imagine my practice rounds). That being said, I have a friend who can hang crown mold (Mom, that's the wood trim around the ceiling), and I can do the chair rail (Mom, that's the wood strip around the middle of the wall) and the wainscotting (those panels below). OR would it look better just paint? Period has the bottom of the chair in wallpaper, but let me tell you - NOBODY today wants the wallpaper from this period. Reminds me of the bluebells on the wall in the bedroom where we stayed last week .

Looking around, you never know how much stuff you have until you have to move it. Looking at the clock, I've been reguritating for over an hour. So glad I was productive and didn't do the tax stuff - or the laundry - or the packing.

Now that I've figured out how to get back on my blog and the new software makes it easier to upload pictures, keep posted! Life is only getting better.