Sunday, July 31, 2005

cruel and unusual punishment, indeed

Before anything gets blown out of proportion or whatever, let me say this:
  • I am, seriously, facing three years in jail.

  • I am trying my damnedest to maintain my sense of humor about it, and appreciate the levity as well as the concern.

  • I cannot give details until after my second, which should have been my third, court appearance on the 11th.

  • Even then I can only give half the story, potentially.

  • I'm not trying to be vague; I'm just giving it a "C.Y.A." - as in "cover your ass". It will all make sense in a few weeks.

  • The union taught me that acronym.

  • There is no blogging from jail, however, the toilet is conveniently located just at the foot of the raised concrete slab that serves as a bed. Seriously, there was no bed. Maybe prison is different - hope I never find out.

  • The only reason I threw out the jail tidbit is because I was seriously stressing about it and I had to tell someone. Dunno, man.

In the meantime, I've been "asked to leave" my mother's house and am crashed with my sister. BUT! But today I managed to finagle a sleeping room across the hall from her apartment, so that's pretty cool. A room with a door? For the first time in six months I'll actually have a door! That's pretty boss.

Oh, something funny, which would be a lot funnier if you knew more about my potential jail situation up there...actually, both potential jail situations, but that's another couple of stories to come in another couple of weeks...I received in the mail today (I haven't checked my PO box for a couple of weeks) a notice for jury duty in Minnesota. Then I opened something that yelled at me for not responding to jury duty in Minnesota. Then I opened something telling me I was supposed to be in court in Minnesota to explain why I didn't show up for jury duty. Then I opened something that said I was no longer allowed to drive in the state of Minnesota.

Okay, so it's kind of a funny situation regardless of the rest of it, but in conjunction with the other two stories it's hilarious.

I'll try to blog as often as possible in the meantime in order to fulfill all of your Natalie needs just in case. Case. Court case!


But, honestly, is anyone surprised that I may end up in jail? Most of my friends have said, "We're just surprised it's taken this long."

And I kind of have to agree.

Wednesday, July 27, 2005

so what's new in my world

Well, I'm going to jail - potentially for three years, gosh! - but that's a really long, boring story, so instead I'll just show you the results of my humor test I ganked from Sollie.

the Cutting Edge

(65% dark, 43% spontaneous, 22% vulgar)

your humor style:

Your humor's mostly innocent and off-the-cuff, but somehow there's something slightly menacing about you. Part of your humor is making people a little uncomfortable, even if the things you say aren't in and of themselves confrontational. You probably have a very dry delivery, or are seriously over-the-top. Your type is the most likely to appreciate a good insult and/or broken bone and/or very very fat person dancing.

PEOPLE LIKE YOU: David Letterman - John Belushi

My test tracked 3 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:

free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 73% on dark

free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 63% on spontaneous

free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 18% on vulgar
Link: The 3 Variable Funny Test written by jason_bateman on Ok Cupid

The worst part? I have really awesome nails now but have been told...if you can believe this...that there isn't a single manicurist available in jail! Surely I'd gladly give up any and all conjugal visits I may be entitled to, provided I was able to maintain my lovely nails, but no. Not even an option.

Plus there's that whole "can't vote" thing, too. This kinda sucks.

Then again, I always have that whole "cutting edge" thing going for me, so life ain't all bad. I s'pose.

Monday, July 18, 2005

needs to be said, needs to be read

Six months gone, I have to say that I don't hate you anymore. I don't. I'm at a much different, and better, place mentally than I've been in a long time. I've recovered and am stronger, and I thank you for that in my own odd way.

I'm not angry anymore, and I've forgiven everything - no guilt, no blame, no tears. Things were crazy, things were hard, but that's life. Life is hard. Not just our lives - everyone's lives.

Breakdowns come and breakdowns go - but what are you going to do about it? That's what I'd like to know. Make the best of it, kiddo, like I know you can.

I can only give what I have at my disposal, which isn't much and is fairly well in-demand by other circumstances, but it does make me happy when I read that something is going well with you and that you're finally (finally!) optimistic and away from self-destruct mode.

It's about fucking time, mate.

WORLD AT LARGE - Modest Mouse

Ice-age heat wave, can't complain.
If the world's at large, why should I remain?
Walked away to another plan.
Gonna find another place, maybe one I can stand.
I move on to another day,
to a whole new town with a whole new way.
Went to the porch to have a thought.
Got to the door and again, I couldn't stop.
You don't know where and you don't know when.
But you still got your words and you got your friends.
Walk along to another day.
Work a little harder, work another way.

Well uh-uh baby I ain't got no plan.
We'll float on maybe would you understand?
Gonna float on maybe would you understand?
Well float on maybe would you understand?

The days get shorter and the nights get cold.
I like the autumn but this place is getting old.
I pack up my belongings and I head for the coast.
It might not be a lot but I feel like I'm making the most.
The days get longer and the nights smell green.
I guess it's not surprising but it's spring and I should leave.

I like songs about drifters - books about the same.
They both seem to make me feel a little less insane.
Walked on off to another spot.
I still haven't gotten anywhere that I want.
Did I want love? Did I need to know?
Why does it always feel like I'm caught in an undertow?

The moths beat themselves to death against the lights.
Adding their breeze to the summer nights.
Outside, water like air was great.
I didn't know what I had that day.
Walk a little farther to another plan.
You said that you did, but you didn't understand.

I know that starting over is not what life's about.
But my thoughts were so loud I couldn't hear my mouth.
My thoughts were so loud I couldn't hear my mouth.
My thoughts were so loud.

Sunday, July 10, 2005

oh, and another thing...

Audioslave is incapable of making a bad song. Folks, it's just that simple.

Wait, that's not what I was going to say - oh yeah, I have ten days before I get to sit in front of a judiciary panel for the federal government and try to convince them that I'm not a threat and/or menace to society in any respect. Should be a laff, that one.

I haven't thought about court in a week or so, so I've been refreshingly unalarmed at the whole thing. I should probably think about getting a lawyer soon, huh?

I'm really great at sticking my head in the sand to avoid my problems.

I've gotta admit, though, that I'm a little turned on by the thought of all the hot, women's prison shower action I'll be getting, because at least it's, ya know, action. That I'll be getting. If I can remember how.

SAND IN THE PANTS, people. Sand. In the pants.

"I talk about sex a lot because, well...let's face it, if I were hungry I'd be talking about food." - Adam Ferrara

hey, don't i know you from somewhere?

That's the most popular pick-up line in the US. The correct response is, "Yeah, I think you do - I work at the STD clinic". Ba-dum-DUM.

Here's a joke I heard at work from a construction worker, because that's who I work with since I'm so totally in construction: A mother is cleaning up her teenage son's room and comes across a stack of S&M magazines and just flips out. When the father gets home she's in a tizzy and wails, "What am I supposed to do about this? I need to punish him somehow. What should I do?" The dad says, "I don't know, but I don't think you should spank him."

And that, my friends, is what's known in some circles as "sexual harassment" and "creating a hostile working environment". I thought the joke was funny but got very serious and said I didn't appreciate that kind of humor. Then I told this joke: Two men are standing in line at the bus station and the woman at the counter has these enormous breasts. The one guy goes to the counter and says, "I'd like two pickets to Tittsburg, please" and immediately is mortified at his slip. The other guy tells him, "Hey, don't worry about that - it's just a Freudian slip. Happens all the time. Why, just the other day I meant to ask the missus if she would please pass the bacon but instead I said 'You fucking bitch, you ruined my life!'"

And that counts as sexual harassment, too! Isn't that cute?

Everyone on the site calls everyone by these really prissy nicknames like Precious, Buttercup, Princess, Sweet Cheeks, Twinkle Toes, that kind of thing. I call them all things like Monkey House, School Bus, Flashlight, Lunch Box, Rough Neck, Phone Jack and Chieftan. Plus I call everyone Kiddo, but Chieftan is my favorite. I yell it like, "chiefTAAAAN" kind of like how Captain Caveman said his name. It's funny when I blast out ear drums in my NEXTEL WALKIE TALKIE, bitches!

Yeah, I have a Nextel walkie talkie, ya wanna fight about it? It makes me feel like a MAN, oh yes it does. Like a man with a walkie talkie.

So, what else? Oh yeah - more on the porta-potty war. (It's escalated to full-blown war status now, you see.) I put up a sign in one bathroom that very politely and formally requested that if the gents had to make a "number 2" that would they kindly do it in the other porta-potty? Then I put the same sign in the other bathroom as well. Since I can see the closets from where I am I watched as people would walk into one, then exit only to enter the other. When they came out I would yell at them and tell them to poop at home and stop doing it at work because it's ever so gross.

I told that story to a friend and he said, "Why didn't you just put the sign in one bathroom? People were obviously paying attention. Then you could have had one clean bathroom and your problems would be solved."

Because I didn't think about it, that's why! Plus I wanted to yell at the Mad Poopers who were ruining my day, that's why! So there.

I really wish I'd have thought of that, though. Now they're going to ignore my sign and just poop anyway, even during the day at work, because that's what guys do. They poop.

A lot.