Had a fantastic evening last night out with Beth, Leslie and Ian. We ate at a place called the Esquire in Champaign. The Esquire is a great believer in frying. First up two servings of asian dumplings which we shared. It was at this point I nearly got myself kicked out by wondering where the knives and forks were. "There are no knives and forks, its all hands." Apparently if the bloke who served us, the owner (?) who was obviously a big fan of the Sopranos, had over heard me giving it the maximum english, "I say what sort of tractor outdoor nonsense is this?" I would have been kicked out. Great food.
We then went to the Blind Pig, where 10% beers sat on the menu as a dare. I let these beers have their day and drank something normal. The Blind Pig was heated up to sauna level and I sat trying not to fall asleep in the booth we picked. We moved to a table, a little less hot, but not much.
Then onto a coffee shop. I had a red latte, made with rooibos, my favourite tea.Began to wake up.
Came home believing I was far more awake.
Some hours later woke up sitting on the toilet with completely dead legs. I must of come in for a pee and just decided to hang out for a few hours. Took 10 minutes to get the feeling back, before attempting to stand up.
Upright, now awake,s listening to Michael Caine's selection on the desert Island discs podcast. Desert island discs is one of the true treats of being english. Now listening to Baroness Scotland's selection.
It is new years eve. 2009, feel free to fuck off.
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Thursday, December 31, 2009
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Elementary my dear Ritchie
Just went to see the new Sherlock Holmes film, which is a ton of fun and distinctly lacking in the least convincing gangsters in the history of geezerdom. Ate too much cinema death popcorn, and spent the second half of the film stuffed with butter artery blender. Back to the inlaws where we are planning on leaving to go back to Columbus early tomorrow morning. We'll see how that one goes.
Great to hear 12 days of facebook on Punky radio's between the wars Xmas special, though Paul thought Rhonda, my comedy writing partner was in fact me missus and that we were writing comedy tunes to fill up the time since the sex had dried up. I'm sure she will find this basically amusing. Eventually.
Great to hear 12 days of facebook on Punky radio's between the wars Xmas special, though Paul thought Rhonda, my comedy writing partner was in fact me missus and that we were writing comedy tunes to fill up the time since the sex had dried up. I'm sure she will find this basically amusing. Eventually.
In the bleak Midwester
I sit in doors, not shivering, but with an awareness of cold I cannot shake. i imagine those who live in very hot climes feel the same way about the heat. I also imagine they shrug their shoulders, whack on their swimmies and piss off to the beach for a swim, and mojitos at Carlos' beach bar emporium. Bastards.
Their is a stoicism in the midwest as regards the punishment of winter. a sense that you have to pay this price for the beautiful summer days and the beauty of the snow laden landscape. It is absolutely gorgeous looking, like living in the most perfect christmas card you can imagine. Apart from the cars in the ditch, the hypothermia and the random death. " You got to pay for perfection", the attitude. "See you at the beach knobhouse", my response.
Their is a stoicism in the midwest as regards the punishment of winter. a sense that you have to pay this price for the beautiful summer days and the beauty of the snow laden landscape. It is absolutely gorgeous looking, like living in the most perfect christmas card you can imagine. Apart from the cars in the ditch, the hypothermia and the random death. " You got to pay for perfection", the attitude. "See you at the beach knobhouse", my response.
Monday, December 28, 2009
The maximum English.
Its so cold. The ground is covered in snow which is heading towards ice as fast as it can. My snow boots are fantastic and can operate in really low temperatures. They are in Columbus. The shoes I have here are good if you are walking on a beach pretending to be an italian boatmen.
Myself, the shoes of summer gone, Beth and her folks went over to John and Kate's in accordance with the midwest weather is no object clause. One of the things about travel in the midwest winter is that you always have a good time when you arrive, as you are all happy to be alive. We only saw 5 cars in the ditch on our way there (really) so the day had gone quite well for a bad winter squall. The most amazing thing i've ever seen was when Beth and I drove up to chicago some winters ago on a road solid with black ice. We drove at 10 mph and saw 60 cars off the road, 5 of which were on their roof. We were the only car left rolling in the silent winterlight. It was like being in a post-appocalyptic ghost story.
Why the maximum english? We went out to a restaurant that did chips and curry sauce. If the table had been better hidden, i'd of sat and licked the plate.
Myself, the shoes of summer gone, Beth and her folks went over to John and Kate's in accordance with the midwest weather is no object clause. One of the things about travel in the midwest winter is that you always have a good time when you arrive, as you are all happy to be alive. We only saw 5 cars in the ditch on our way there (really) so the day had gone quite well for a bad winter squall. The most amazing thing i've ever seen was when Beth and I drove up to chicago some winters ago on a road solid with black ice. We drove at 10 mph and saw 60 cars off the road, 5 of which were on their roof. We were the only car left rolling in the silent winterlight. It was like being in a post-appocalyptic ghost story.
Why the maximum english? We went out to a restaurant that did chips and curry sauce. If the table had been better hidden, i'd of sat and licked the plate.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Merry Xmarse
Current mood:relieved
Category: Life
I love cheese, the more esoteric and strong the better. I love shrimp. I love water chestnuts wrapped in bacon. I love the prime rib that my brother in law John makes. If you inhale all of my favourites over and over on Xmas eve, you will end up believing you live in a bathroom. You will then not eat Xmas day until 7 pm. Ah, tis the season for your arse to be jelly.
Category: Life
I love cheese, the more esoteric and strong the better. I love shrimp. I love water chestnuts wrapped in bacon. I love the prime rib that my brother in law John makes. If you inhale all of my favourites over and over on Xmas eve, you will end up believing you live in a bathroom. You will then not eat Xmas day until 7 pm. Ah, tis the season for your arse to be jelly.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Pride in the fall.
Today I was weaker than I anticipated. I was in my bathroom, turned, and found myself in midair. Fortunately I've sent the last few years doing MS yoga, where they teach you how to fall. Got to the floor as quick as possible, arse first. If you put your hands out you will probably break your wrists. So bruised arse day, but still able to type. Beth is just walking in with vietnamese food, so the day is improving as it goes
Monday, December 21, 2009
A waste of perfectly good sperm
Healthcare restorm
Current mood: aggravated
Category: Life
If you are a republican and a thinker, not necessarily mutually exclusive, you must be watching the pathetic bollock sucking horse shit your people are engaged in with horror and despair. Wheel a 92 year old into the senate twice at 1 am, to force him to vote, while some cunt calls for prayers so he wont make it? Stop vital funding being voted on for your troops? How stupid and inhuman can one set of offal filled cum buckets be? Plenty.
Current mood: aggravated
Category: Life
If you are a republican and a thinker, not necessarily mutually exclusive, you must be watching the pathetic bollock sucking horse shit your people are engaged in with horror and despair. Wheel a 92 year old into the senate twice at 1 am, to force him to vote, while some cunt calls for prayers so he wont make it? Stop vital funding being voted on for your troops? How stupid and inhuman can one set of offal filled cum buckets be? Plenty.
Humbugs for all!!!
 | Current mood:Xmas ahhh I'm up. Keep getting up at 6 am or so. Some of his is down to Abbey, who needs her breakfast and to play outside in the freezing cold. some of it is because, unbelievably, I feel very Xmassy. I've hated Xmas the past few years, but all of a sudden I find myself wandering around humming carols and ginning like a twat. Last night Beth and I went to see the Nutcracker, courtesy of our friend Yo, whose husband Gerard is the head of Ballet Met in Columbus. Usually the thought of being surrounded by screeching kids and their battle worn parents makes my teeth itch. Not last night. I smiled like a fool all the way through. My yoga teacher Jen's daughter was in it. I have news for you Jen. if you are that young and standing in front of a cheering crowd of 2000, you are hooked for life. If you are in town its well worth a look. |
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Sunday
Up early. Why? I think I'm feeling xmasy. This began when watching a Gordon Ramsay marathon, and realising that he just wants to help.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Amazon Freak Mining
This one for the combo people pick.
//www.amazon.com/California-Delicious-Ghirardelli-Sampler-Basket/dp/B002TV3O6U/ref=xs_gb_bd_BsB!49KAall-?pf_rd_p=441937801&pf_rd_s=center-2&pf_rd_t=701&pf_rd_i=20&pf_rd_m=ATVPDKIKX0DER&pf_rd_r=0B25Z55F7FNYMYT5CG54
//www.amazon.com/California-Delicious-Ghirardelli-Sampler-Basket/dp/B002TV3O6U/ref=xs_gb_bd_BsB!49KAall-?pf_rd_p=441937801&pf_rd_s=center-2&pf_rd_t=701&pf_rd_i=20&pf_rd_m=ATVPDKIKX0DER&pf_rd_r=0B25Z55F7FNYMYT5CG54
Clean the bathroom!
Current mood:getonwithit
We are having a brunch today. I know i have to polish up the bathroom right nice. Its 2:43a m so I know I have to do it now. I blame the films Hatchet and The terminator for delaying my work. That, and watching the snow and playing with my dog and hating cleaning the bathroom. i always over bleach and end up in a head fog thinking I'm at the swimming pool, wondering where my veruca sock is.
You don't see veruca socks nowadays. Did we cure verucas when I wasn't looking? Veruca, what a great word. Icky, gross and somehow less agressive than foot wart. Veruca isn't in my dictionary. Either it is gone, or Americans do call it foot wart, or skin foot degrade or some such shit.
Clean the bathroom!
Friday, December 18, 2009
Wakey wakey.
Current mood:wakey-sleepy Category: Life Awake. Last night had really good chicken livers ( Beth ) drank some top splosh (also made by Beth ). I am living with a crafting genius. Now I just need her to knit me a career. Considering how today should go. I know this evening I am going to watch a very Xmasy play about Heroin addiction. Better than accidentally catching Elf, polluting the Xmas airwaves with its grinny happy happy shite. Advert on the telly with some bloke shouting about something. I hate shouty adverts. That bloke has to sit and live with fact that he did that. Unless he's a bit deaf, in which case SORRY! Deaf jokes, must be early |
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Right then.
I'm beginning this blog with no idea what I'm going to write about. I usually have a vague idea. Today, I've been wiped out, so nothing is coming.
We are at the end of empire consuming ourselves up our own arse, filling it with shit we don't need. This is the way the world ends, not with a bang, but constipation.
Xmas adverts are shit. Buy this for your child or they will be tormented by the more fortunate/ nasty children who will call them Xmas gyppo forever.
Buy your wife a present from our shithouse blood diamond murder warehouse, or accept that you don't love her enough, and all those kids in africa died or were mutilated in vain.
Buy our shit food, that is so processed its not actually animal any more.
Get our toilet roll that doesn't work and will give way under the despair of your Xmas shit.
Go to church if you like, and pretend to care about your fellow man.
Wow. Narky.
We are at the end of empire consuming ourselves up our own arse, filling it with shit we don't need. This is the way the world ends, not with a bang, but constipation.
Xmas adverts are shit. Buy this for your child or they will be tormented by the more fortunate/ nasty children who will call them Xmas gyppo forever.
Buy your wife a present from our shithouse blood diamond murder warehouse, or accept that you don't love her enough, and all those kids in africa died or were mutilated in vain.
Buy our shit food, that is so processed its not actually animal any more.
Get our toilet roll that doesn't work and will give way under the despair of your Xmas shit.
Go to church if you like, and pretend to care about your fellow man.
Wow. Narky.
Correct to protect
Just saw an advert on telly for correct to protect, a company that sells dogs that are trained to attack on command. Security for your family, or just a cute killer pooch. I'm not kidding. They are selling dogs trained to kill as a nice family pet. Can anyone see this going wrong? Little Tommy goes missing, Rage your new security dog is waddling around, suddenly fat, woofs and Tommy's retainer falls out. I think the only reason that this homicide on 4 legs business exists is because someone rhymed correct and protect. Its Xmas, buy a correct to protect doggie for your local health insurance provider. Train it to attack on the phrase " Denied. Pre-existing condition."
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Mary, mary
Rhonda and I put up the 12 days of facebook today. Great to get back to working on a comedy tune again. What fascinates me is how long it takes. You get the idea, go at it for a few hours, realise the first idea was OK, then start correcting it. This takes a few more hours. Then you start figuring out how to sing it, making sure in the case of satirising a known song, in this case the 12 days of Xmas that your meter is spot on. More hours figuring that out. Then you sing it through for a couple of hours getting used to what you have come up with. then you leave it for a couple of days while you independently get used to the words. Then you change them again as you see better scans. Finally you attempt to get it down without slurring or breaking up laughing while you are doing it, another couple of hours. T Chuck it up and hope for the best. Then, something shit happens on the news and you start working it all out again. I recommend multiple bloody marys. |
Monday, December 14, 2009
Monday Morning
4:13 am. Awake. This is what happens when you get up at 7 am on Sunday, start hoovering down bloody marys and writing comic songs with your best comic mate. We spent hours getting the track together, 7 to be precise. It takes all that time to have the idea and then chip away at every word, every phrase, shaping it over and over until its something you can both live with. Rhonda and I are the same, in that neither of us believes a joke is ever truely finished. It only gets to the best way you can tell it for now. Thats the joy / curse of being obsessed with words. I can spend hours going over a sentence polishing it until I'm happy with it. Even then I can realise I was wrong about it an hour after that. You would think this is the most annoying affliction in the world, its the greatest gift I ever got.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Day getting weirder
Current mood: hopeful
Category: Life
Having come home from Dirty Franks (hot dog place, excellent) at 2am Sunday morning, I then got up to start writing with my mate Rhonda at 7am. She was coming from her night job, so it was the end of her day. With this in mind, we went into our writing day slugging down Bloody Marys. This works really well for hours, until reality tramps its muddy boots of physicality across the vibe intoning "You can't force the fun." Fortunately before it waded in we wrote and recorded a track that will go up in the week
Beth and I went out to get a chinese. As we drove there we went past a fire engine and a police car which were surrounding the scene of a crash with a body laid out on the pavement. This is actually the second time I have seen a scene like this, the first time was when I got a lift off of John Hegley going through NE london about 20 years ago. He was teaching at Jacksons Lane. Turned out he went the school opposite the one I went to in Luton.
So, I am getting old. 20 years!!! I also hope I was wrong this evening and the guy on the pavement was knocked out not dead.
Category: Life
Having come home from Dirty Franks (hot dog place, excellent) at 2am Sunday morning, I then got up to start writing with my mate Rhonda at 7am. She was coming from her night job, so it was the end of her day. With this in mind, we went into our writing day slugging down Bloody Marys. This works really well for hours, until reality tramps its muddy boots of physicality across the vibe intoning "You can't force the fun." Fortunately before it waded in we wrote and recorded a track that will go up in the week
Beth and I went out to get a chinese. As we drove there we went past a fire engine and a police car which were surrounding the scene of a crash with a body laid out on the pavement. This is actually the second time I have seen a scene like this, the first time was when I got a lift off of John Hegley going through NE london about 20 years ago. He was teaching at Jacksons Lane. Turned out he went the school opposite the one I went to in Luton.
So, I am getting old. 20 years!!! I also hope I was wrong this evening and the guy on the pavement was knocked out not dead.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Xmas Wisdom
Current mood:Shopzombied
Category: Life
When wandering around Target, silently projecting revulsion at the shopping zombies stumbling around you, remember, you are one of them. Seek the internet and buy your goods securely parked on your couch. Also, Target; 30$ for a new DVD? One word, Amazon.
Category: Life
When wandering around Target, silently projecting revulsion at the shopping zombies stumbling around you, remember, you are one of them. Seek the internet and buy your goods securely parked on your couch. Also, Target; 30$ for a new DVD? One word, Amazon.
Frostbite merrily on thigh
Current mood: angsty
It is 19 F here at the moment. Thats the kind of cold that makes you stand shaking your head in disbelief. "it can't possibly be that fucking cold," you mutter, whilst willing your dog to stop enjoying the garden and come in.
Quite antsy this morning, as I decided to try and get my studio going whilst still barely conscious, willing it to work. I hate doing the tech to get ideas down. I need a personal studio tech living in my basement. There is a real artistry to capturing sound which I don't have. That or any patience whatsoever. Rationally I know how long it takes to get a track down, Unfortunately this is drowned out by my repeated use of the phrase, "For fuck's sake you cunt!" as I stomp around the room.
Did I mention its fucking freezing? All doubters are ignorant cunts who should be thrown in a volcano. Told you there was global warming.
Happy saturday.
It is 19 F here at the moment. Thats the kind of cold that makes you stand shaking your head in disbelief. "it can't possibly be that fucking cold," you mutter, whilst willing your dog to stop enjoying the garden and come in.
Quite antsy this morning, as I decided to try and get my studio going whilst still barely conscious, willing it to work. I hate doing the tech to get ideas down. I need a personal studio tech living in my basement. There is a real artistry to capturing sound which I don't have. That or any patience whatsoever. Rationally I know how long it takes to get a track down, Unfortunately this is drowned out by my repeated use of the phrase, "For fuck's sake you cunt!" as I stomp around the room.
Did I mention its fucking freezing? All doubters are ignorant cunts who should be thrown in a volcano. Told you there was global warming.
Happy saturday.
Friday, December 11, 2009
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Tasi
Current mood:o so full.
Category: Life
There is a restaurant found aound the back of High street in the short north called Tasi. It sits there all out of the way and has fantastic food. It is possible to eat too much, although it is a well earned culinary stomach grumble. Beth and I are now home looking to nap off the excess.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Um?
Just woke up on my couch. MS is not the reason that I can't remember how I got there. Taste testing whisky at 1pm followed by beer tasting at 4pm (8.9 %) followed by long island ice tea and dinner at 6pm is. I know it was ok and nothing awful occured, I just checked with Beth. It is amazing when you cannot remember. I know I got home. I know I took my glasses off and put them on a table. I know I still feel drunk. I know I have a hangover in my future. That is as much as I know.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Total relaxation
If you ever see an advert for a yoga restorative, book it immediately. Beth and I spent three hours last night moving from one total relaxation pose to another. There is a moment when you can actually feel all tension leave, and you melt. Its the most legal high you can have. I highly recommend it.
Got home ate crap food (thanks Wendys) and fell into a fantastic sleep. Now awake with the tension I ditched last night niggling in the back of my mind. Turn the tv on to the news, mistake. Political cunts aplenty spraying their ill informed heartless horseshit, polluting my chilled aspect. american politicians aren't even the posh witless cunts of home, something that is easy to hate. The thing they have in common is the total corruption that corrodes them as they go, until, wrapped in compromise and lies, any soul they had when they started is snuffed out completely, leaving a slogan screeching shit bucket, taking up decent tree oxygen.
Maybe i should have eaten healthier when I got in.
Got home ate crap food (thanks Wendys) and fell into a fantastic sleep. Now awake with the tension I ditched last night niggling in the back of my mind. Turn the tv on to the news, mistake. Political cunts aplenty spraying their ill informed heartless horseshit, polluting my chilled aspect. american politicians aren't even the posh witless cunts of home, something that is easy to hate. The thing they have in common is the total corruption that corrodes them as they go, until, wrapped in compromise and lies, any soul they had when they started is snuffed out completely, leaving a slogan screeching shit bucket, taking up decent tree oxygen.
Maybe i should have eaten healthier when I got in.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
The piss head and the pea.
Woke up this morning with a bad back. Felt like a good first line for a blues, is however a terrible start for any blues song, unless sung by a geriatric bluesman to opening his piss in the pants tour of old folks homes. The telly was on, spouting something confusing. Took five minutes to realise that I had turned the TV onto a spanish language channel in my sleep. Dream osmosis ineffective, my spanish is still dire.
I slept on the remote, the pissheads version of the princess and the pea tale. Maybe thats how one pisshead finds another, keep asking them to sleep over on the coach, whilst cunningly sliding the remote under the cushions. Three back grumbling days later you have found the love of your life, and somone wo can say "good morning!!!!" in spanish.
I have woken up before unaware of where I was, looking around, searching for clues to my location. This usually happens when I have been travelling, and have fallen hard asleep. The moments of where am I and why are actually somewhat of a treat.
Been out for breakfast at the Skillet around thecorner. So sleepy i forgot Betns order, which she had told me seconds before, then stepped back and accientally elbowed the woman behind me in the tit. What is the etiquette for that? anyway, boob smashing aside great breakfast, though Apple and farmer cheese pancakes do give you countryside farts. Countryside in that it would be better to be in plenty of open air when you do one.
Then shopping, where the countryside fart was retained in the checkout queue. Learned that the reason the conveyor belt stops is that your food or the plastic thing between you and the customer behind you breaks the laser beam shining across the belt. thanks bloke behind me, breakfast and Buck Rogers, result. sorry the only thing I gave you was the air of the countryside as I left
Friday, December 4, 2009
Fridaze
Current mood: annoyed
Category: Life
Ill, in the sense that the day has rolled on like a small shitball gathering moss and more shit as it heads down the hill towards saturday. It has achieved a certain weight, and my internet acting up, as it always does when it gets a bit colder, has apple currently being san franciscan for shit, is improving my mood not a jot.
Design hardier products you effete twats, and try not to piss me off too much.
Would get help from the american health service, but they are all money grubbing cunts, flapping their dollar grabbing arms like fuck birds of bank, trying to stay above the fire riven hell that awaits them in the next world.
Aah, much better.
Category: Life
Ill, in the sense that the day has rolled on like a small shitball gathering moss and more shit as it heads down the hill towards saturday. It has achieved a certain weight, and my internet acting up, as it always does when it gets a bit colder, has apple currently being san franciscan for shit, is improving my mood not a jot.
Design hardier products you effete twats, and try not to piss me off too much.
Would get help from the american health service, but they are all money grubbing cunts, flapping their dollar grabbing arms like fuck birds of bank, trying to stay above the fire riven hell that awaits them in the next world.
Aah, much better.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Replay until dead.
Current mood: contemplative
Category: Life
Just watched the Wrestler, a great film with Mickey Rourke as a broken down wrestler competing against his failing body for one more shot in front of the crowd. Then turned on the Rock and Roll hall of fame's 25th anniversary concert, populated with ageing rockers, competing against failing voices and bodies, for one more shot at the crowd. Lou Reed singing with Metallica was particularly poignant, as a befuddled Lou watched Sweet Jane being dismantled before his ravaged ex-junkie eyes. Then Ray Davies was trotted out, to sing you really got me, or teach geography, it was difficult to tell. Beautiful, in a fighting against the dying of the light kind of way.
Set against the dying of the light I'm now watching Kingdom of the Spiders, a 1977 classic bit of scifi tack, with a very youthful william Shatner, as a scientist trying survive a killer spider attack.
"Are you crazy lady? This is our home, no damn spiders are gonna run us out."
The crappy seventies scifi film verbal version of anyone being beamed down from the enterprise wearing red. Doomed.
The dying of the day
The midwest is preparing the wind down into the long winter. It is getting colder, and having lived here for seven years its descending into the winter, which will last until April. There will be nice days, there will be enjoyable days. In the main, it will be cold, icy and rubbish. I never grew up with such a hit of consistently shit weather. Rain, sure, but not such a long run of dangerous rubbish with a side-order of what the fuck. All my friends who grew up here deal with the weather change a lot better than I do. I enjoy a nice coating of snow, who doesn't? I just can't stand it hanging around for weeks, the last person at the party, who you didn't invite, were pleasantly surprised at how alright they were, then stayed drinking themselves into incoherence after everyone else had gone home.
I admire the stoicism of those who deal with it all with a shrug. They who do not cry too hard when the gas bills come in. Lets face it, everyone wells a little when they realise gas is apparently made of gold.
I admire the stoicism of those who deal with it all with a shrug. They who do not cry too hard when the gas bills come in. Lets face it, everyone wells a little when they realise gas is apparently made of gold.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
The Ring cycle
Current mood: cheerful
Category: Life
Yesterday went out to dinner for Ian's birthday dollar sushi night at Kofusion in Champaign. I know dollar sushi invites an arse gasping and trying to go down for water, whilst its owner groans above, begging for death. Actually it was really good and my stomach / arse remained unperturbed. Drank too much, shuffled home and realised I must have lost my rings in the house before I left. I say realised, it was more that I was irrationally certain I must have left them in the house somewhere.
When I lose things, which is often I have discovered that rushing around with my head cut off bleating and whining ( which I have done a lot in the past) does me no good at all. The only thing that works is to say "don't worry it'll turn up" and wait for the zen click which tells me where the objects are.
This did not stop Beth and her parents turning their house upside down looking for my wedding rings.
I actually have 2 rings, one which is the wedding ring and a silver gold engagement ring I got because I'd never been engaged before; never gonna do it again; better get a bonus ring then.
The house continued to be searched while I tried to clear my head, tricky, as the guilt of the dormant ring loser kept flitting across my mind. I couldn't run the house it would have muddied my parting cloud. No rings, bed.
Woke up and the clouds parted. The rings were in the car. Why? It was cold last night and my fingers had shrunk and the rings fell in the seat. Why didn't you notice? As I intimated, I was far too sushied and pissed.
So thanks to Jan and Carl and Beth for humouring the sedentary thinker, who needed his hangover to clear up, just enough to remember what should have been obvious in the first place.
As a postcript. I just found the peanut crackle from dollar general, which I dismissed as cack two days ago, in my kitchen. It has graduated from being cack to being sweets I just found in my kitchen. Mmm.
Category: Life
Yesterday went out to dinner for Ian's birthday dollar sushi night at Kofusion in Champaign. I know dollar sushi invites an arse gasping and trying to go down for water, whilst its owner groans above, begging for death. Actually it was really good and my stomach / arse remained unperturbed. Drank too much, shuffled home and realised I must have lost my rings in the house before I left. I say realised, it was more that I was irrationally certain I must have left them in the house somewhere.
When I lose things, which is often I have discovered that rushing around with my head cut off bleating and whining ( which I have done a lot in the past) does me no good at all. The only thing that works is to say "don't worry it'll turn up" and wait for the zen click which tells me where the objects are.
This did not stop Beth and her parents turning their house upside down looking for my wedding rings.
I actually have 2 rings, one which is the wedding ring and a silver gold engagement ring I got because I'd never been engaged before; never gonna do it again; better get a bonus ring then.
The house continued to be searched while I tried to clear my head, tricky, as the guilt of the dormant ring loser kept flitting across my mind. I couldn't run the house it would have muddied my parting cloud. No rings, bed.
Woke up and the clouds parted. The rings were in the car. Why? It was cold last night and my fingers had shrunk and the rings fell in the seat. Why didn't you notice? As I intimated, I was far too sushied and pissed.
So thanks to Jan and Carl and Beth for humouring the sedentary thinker, who needed his hangover to clear up, just enough to remember what should have been obvious in the first place.
As a postcript. I just found the peanut crackle from dollar general, which I dismissed as cack two days ago, in my kitchen. It has graduated from being cack to being sweets I just found in my kitchen. Mmm.
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