Friday, August 31, 2007

Let's Get Together

We should hang out together sometime.

People say I’m “fun to be around”. That’s what “a dickhead” means, right?

I’m both “clever and witty” at the same time. I’m pretty sure that’s what people mean when they say “cruel and wicked”.

So let’s go hang out some time and you can buy me beers.

It’ll be “amusing” or, as my friends say, “torture”.

Labels: , , ,

Saturday, August 25, 2007

Guesstimates

I'm attempting to recreate a board game I made several years back. It's called Guesstimates and, much as the title implies, much of the game surrounds ones accuracy of their estimates.

The closer you are to the total, the more spaces you can move up. It was incredibly fun when we tested it years back, but it never ended; partly because there were too many spaces on the board, and partly because there were twelve people playing.

Questions like: How many inches are there in 300 yeads? How many completed passes did Joe Montana throw in 1987? In what year was Napoleon Bonaparte's first battle? How many minutes in length is The Sound of Music? What is 15,678 X 256,113? How many songs are there altogether on all of The Beatles' albulms? How many days was Thomas Jefferson alive? (and so on)

Does that sound like fun? Feel like coming up with some questions? Whether you know the answer or not, throw me a question. If I have to find the answer, I will.

...Or, you could blatantly ignore this thread and follow a similar strategy that you have all been using on my previous threads. (lurkers)

Labels: ,

Monday, August 13, 2007

Crossing the Street

I take my time crossing the street, and rarely bother waiting for traffic (unless it's super heavy). I figure the drivers will stop, and they don't want their insurance to go up. Plus, I'm certain that I would do some serious damage to their vehicle.

Sometimes they honk the horn at me. That's when I bend down and pretend to tie my shoe.

Labels: , ,

Thursday, August 09, 2007

"It's not the heat, it's the humidity"

Well whatever the fuck it is, it needs to stop. It's sweaty-hot. I get home from work and I wring the sweat out of my ball-hairs.

Fucking Ohio summers.

Labels: , , ,

Monday, August 06, 2007

The Contraband Candle

I went to my cousins' wedding yesterday evening.

Got pretty drunk.

We came home and the wife lit a few candles, because they smell nice. We left one of them burning on the front (enclosed) porch over night. It was a safe, ten hour candle; the kind that comes in a jar.

We went to sleep a few hours later.

At 4:30am the phone rings. I fumble around, trying to wake from a deep, drunken sleep. It's the police, they tell me there are some officers at the front door. So I stumble to the front door and, sure enough, there are three officers standing at the bottom of the porch steps. Two cruisers are parked on the road in front of my house.

"Hi," I say. "How can I help you?"

"We got a call from one of your neighbors," one of the officers says. "They saw you had a candle burning on the porch and were concerned that you hadn't blown it out."

I stared at them, dumbfounded for a bit before saying; "Do you want me to blow it out?" No answer. I continue; "It's safe. That kind of candle can last for hours."

"Okay," the one that talked said. "We just came to check on it, to make sure everything was okay. One of your neighbors was concerned."

"Alright," I said. "I'll blow it out then."

So they thanked me and turned around to return to their vehicles, and I blew out the candle.

First I'm pissed off and wondering which one of my idiot fucking neighbors called in with concern about a candle burning, and then I'm wondering how boring the graveyard shift must be for these guys if they come in for back-up on a candle burning in a jar.

Stupid fucking Youngstown suburb.

Labels: , ,