Sunday night was a very nice meal with Static Girl at the old Taco Stand of Phoenix.
Monday, I tried to write something for Cheri at work, but it wimped out. Monday (payday!) night at the bar was really good. So good, in fact, that we decided to take Tuesday off. We got oil changed and tires rotated at the great new C + R tire place on Cave Creek. We need new tires though. Donate money to my new tire fund and I promise to not drink it...maybe.
Tuesday night? I don't remember.
Wednesday I wrote a little something for Cheri at work; 'ice cream for my heart'. Wednesday night I drank a gallon at the bar (so much for my "2 beer limit on a weeknight" rule).
Amazingly, I went to work Thursday--and even did really well; had another crash and burn attempt to write for Cheri too. Thursday night, what 2 beer rule?, Robert helped to try to make me miss Friday work--but I went.
Trying to write in "free form" for Cheri is fun, but I really need an outline so that I can focus, direct, and concentrate my efforts in a specific direction. I only took a 15 minute lunch, and got to leave early, too. I am the man. Friday night...
Jeremy and I went to check out a couple of bars on Indian School; Liquori some shit name thing--they have a beat-up Baywatch pinball machine, and finally we saw the inside of the Mason Jar; nice. Too bad that they're 11 miles away from us. Then we came back to our neighborhood for a pinball festival at Sam's. I did very well. I came home and learned that grapes are a great drunk food. I will do more research too.
Saturday night had Jeremy, Paul and me going to Famous Sam's to check out Medieval Madness pinball. This was fun. I "Battled for the Kingdom" and wound up with 197 million. Jeremy slam-tilted away a dollar I gave them, and then walked away from one of my pitchers of beer; as I told him--the party is over. Golf was decent, too. Lots of beer.
My head hurts.
I don't remember much about Monday. Maybe the power went off. I'm pretty sure that I went to the bar. And I may have gone to the bar Sunday night, too. Sometimes I forget.
On Tuesday, at the blood plasma place, I was called in to see the nurse. She informed me that my blood has a large amount of the Hepatitus "A" antibodies. This is a good thing. My plasma will help keep more people from getting Hepatitus (Screw the other people; do I get more money?), my plasma will be very helpful for the families of the individual people who have Hepatitus (Screw the families; do I get more money?), and my plasma will possibly help to find a cure for Hepatitus (Screw the cure; do I get more money?). And, on a completely irrelevant note (because I do so enjoy helping out humanity), I get an extra $5 every time I donate now.
I did not go to the bar, okay? I do not have a dinking problem; people with drinking problems go to the bar everyday. And I did not go the bar on Tuesday night; I'm almost absolutely positive of it.
Wednesday night at the bar--I made some progress. On the new Medieval Madness pinball I scored 153.5 million. Also, I learned that during the latter stages of a really good score, there are ways to get lots of points in big chunks. This game took about 45 minutes to play; eventually I will get that 500 million high score.
Immediately following this game of pinball, I went and played the good Golf game (that had been fixed earlier that day) and got -18 on Rattlesnake Ridge (which is my 2nd best game ever). It was a good night for gaming.
Also on Wednesday, I watched some of this show "Family Guy" (on Fox); that was funny! Taped a great re-run West Wing, too.
On Thursday, I really wanted to go to work...sort of...I probably COULD have...definitely SHOULD have...but I decided to sleep in. Why? Because I fucking can; remember, we are in MY world now. And, my ear did actually hurt a little. Later, Plasma West gave me $50 to drink on this weekend.
Thursday night was another fun bar party night--even though I knew I shouldn't have gone. At least I'm consistent. But I did get up Friday morning and go to work. Work sucked. And then we got monitored...and during the monitoring I messed up the perfect record that I had. I was pissed; Joe was pissed, and the client was pissed. You know how sometimes when you mess up really bad, and you KNOW that you messed up, and it's your own damn fault that you messed up, and you just want to sink down under the floor--flat and invisible and quiet--and just eliminate reality altogether? That's how I felt. And it's a really shitty feeling. But I stayed the whole day, and even did very well after lunch. Yay.
And then there was Friday night. After a good "Invisible Man" (the cool people call it "I-Man"), I went to the bar and had a blast. Robert is cool.
Saturday (God damn, this is like one of those worthless 'web-journal' little fucking bullshit things.) I took Jeremy to get an official Arizona ID...so now Jeremy can go to the bar! Wow, all of a sudden it looks like I'll be going to the bar again. I go to the bar about as often as the Seattle Mariners win; roughly 6 times a week. My head hurts.
TPG's restaurant got robbed Saturday night; luckily nobody was injured. I was at the bar when I found out about it; is that symbolic?
Sunday starts with the usual hangover, and then we opened the big birthday box from Mom--while on the phone with her. Nice. I want some Mexican food, maybe.
Wow, what a week! Big Dog showed up with no driver's license, no ID, no prescription eyewear, and no money. It's almost like he just shoved some clothes in a bag and got on a bus; yeah, well, I've done some crazy shit like that before too. Ask my mom.
Wednesday night at the bar! Partied HARD with Golf buddy Robert. On our final game of golf (after 5 beers), ripped all to hell, I somehow got -19. Then I walked over to the pinball machine to find that MY Elvira game is gone. It's been replaced with Medieval Madness. I can get replays, but that 500 million high score is going to be tough to top.
Because of the fun that was Wednesday night, I slept in on Thursday until around noon thirty. Chalk it up as one more 4-day work week for me!
On Friday, at work (yes, I went) we were praised by our employers for making the month of July profitable (already). The contracts for the program that I work on have been renewed again, and we are apparently kicking ass.
On Sunday night I went to the bar to play pinball. I have the highest recent score at 103.5 million. Woo.
I worked 80% of the week, and even got in trouble for missing a day. Sold some more CD's for money, and had a pretty good time overall. The sign may have said "Keep off the grass", but it wasn't talking about me.
I certainly hope that you're not looking to me for inspiration to do weird shit like read books, help the needy, or pretend that all people are inherently good; 'cause that ain't my style.
There is a library in my neighborhood; there's also a post office (TPG and I found it together). There's even a recreation-type facility that is walking distance from my apartment. Obviously, I need to get out more. Oh well.
I wrote some stuff, too. In fact, I wrote this poem and then celebrated by going out, partying hard, and missing work the next day. Oops.
Who Knows: Part 2
I wrote a couple of other things, too. Unfortunately, sometimes the completed activities fall far short of their intended elevations. I am going to try to paraphrase the pinball situation; but that will come after my Invisible Man comments.
Since Ally McBeal got crappy, and Dark Angel fell from Grace, there's only one show left that Static Girl and I watch together; The Invisible Man, on the Sci-Fi channel. This show has decent plots, a couple of hot chicks, a prankster partner, and the lead guy, Vincent Ventressca, is awesome. He's about 30 years old, good-looking, with a great voice, and he's about as stable as a recovering alcoholic. The show is thrown together loosely, but well; it is extremely entertaining, has great music, and it never takes itself too seriously. (Yes, this show easily could be portrayed as the tv equivalent of my old radio shift, but that's not where I was going.) Folks; what exactly are you looking for from a tv show? I am glad to have found one small candle that eliminates my need to curse the darkness.
Pinball: I keep forgetting the point that I'm trying to make here...You might play one game of pinball, really well, for over an hour...In fact, you could get 9 times the replay score on that one game--but you might not get a high score. Deal with it. I mean; I was very proud of my 72 million. But my lowest of 4 high scores is 84 million.
Late on Sunday, I bought an old "juicer" from Franklin for $20. Let's see if this starts a new trend of health around here.
The newest east coast transplant to Arizona lands here tomorrow morning. His name is "Big Dog", and this should be a fun week.
At work, I set 2 personal (and 1 room) sales records...you know, on the um, 2 days I actually went to work. You know what; never mind.
I've been leaving phone messages on this guys voice mail, in response to an ad in the newspaper where they want a part time telemarketer to do some work for an AM radio station. I do lots of voices, and I scream and yell, and I tell this guy that he's too chicken to call me, and I make "clucking noises"; and it's pretty funny. And it will continue to be...until he puts a restraining order on me. Hey look; he's either going to hire me, or have me arrested; I'm comfortable with that.
I did some writing (in between the drinking and the sleeping--hey, call me a "Hemingway"). Where was I? Oh yeah; writing! Here ya go:
Six Feet Under
YOU probably could not care less about my accomplishments at the bar, but I do. So we'll need to keep some sort of accounted time frame.
In the month of June, on Scared Stiff pinball, I had a 103 million game (with TPG watching), and then later I had a 108 million game alone.
On the new Golden Tee's, I have gotten -17 twice.
Wait, I did write some crap. In fact, I created two turds this week:
I worked some, the power went off, and I didn't kill any children.
See? Not much personal news at all.