Tuesday, January 30, 2007

Regis Update

Here's the boy.

His gums hurt, his butt hurts, his rump hurts.

What a huge incision, considering the growth was the size of a dime. Something isn't right about that.

He has to wear the bell collar for TWO weeks. Won't that suck? The funny shitty thing is, every time the cat meows, he jumps because all sounds are amplified right into his ears by that collar.

That's not funny.

"I have a 17 year old and a 26 year old."

That was my reply to someone recently when they asked how many kids I have. Emily, my significant other, was there when I said it. She's the 26 year old to whom I referred.

She... wasn't amused. It was pretty freakin' funny to me though.

Dating a younger person is something many men aspire to. A friend... we'll just call him Ron... recently married a girl 16 years younger than him. I will admit, I was the first to warn him of the potential issues. But it's what he wanted, and it's what she wanted... so who can say?

Emily (who is also 16 years behind me) and I started dating back in January 2006, and at the time I wrote a post concerning the age difference issue. Although she was drawn to me like a "moth to a flame..." (young moth, older flame) she was the one who was trepidatious, mostly about telling her parents.

I just realized I'm rambling and I'm not sure I have a point. Oh yes, the point is, "I have a 17 year old and a 26 year old" was some funny.


She's amazing and I'm glad we both took the chance.


My dog is having surgery as I write this. I'm pacing, typing, pacing, typing.

First, he's having a dental cleaning, which requires him to be completely anesthetized. So while he's under, I'm also having a growth removed from his left rear hip and... um, having his butt fixed.

My dog has a hemorrhoid. There, I said it.

For the past 3 months, I've had to wipe his little bottom every time he... um, defecates. The wiping procedure is very painful, and it hurts me as much as it hurts him. (if you're a parent, you know what I'm saying) (and also if you're the owner of a dog with hemorrhoids)

By the end of the day, he'll hopefully be fixed. He may have to wear one of those collars for a few days, but at least I won't have to risk the neighbors seeing me wipe my dog's ass anymore. I mean, I love him and all, but c'mon.


And this, by way of Radio Randy's blog:

If you live in an area where winter weather affects you, you MUST check this out - several videos of unfortunate winter driving mishaps. Just... wow.

Courtesy of YES BUT NO BUT YES.

Friday, January 26, 2007

The Oil Man Murders

I had a lighter workload than usual, plus it's SIXTY degrees here today, so I took advantage of it by getting out of the office and doing some "fun" things, which I will unceremoniously list:

1 - Got a haircut by a hypochondriac stylist who is having her tonsils out soon and chose to gross the f*ck right out of me by telling me stories of pus and swelling.
2 - Changed the oil in my Hummer... which involved answering a litany of questions from the Jiffy Lube man about mileage, how it rides, its bad-weather maneuverability, do you get lots of offers of oral sex, etc. In return, I asked him about the viscosity and thermal breakdown characteristics of each of his products, in order to demonstrate what a pain in the ass the questioning had become. My next step would have been to make his head bleed.
3 - Tried to convince same oil guy that the concept behind requesting synthetic oil was less-frequent changes. "I CAN drive 6,000 miles on the synthetic stuff," I said. He told me he preferred I wouldn't... and began explaining why. I blacked out and "lost time," during which I may or may not have made his head bleed.
4 - Went to the car wash. So did everyone else within 40 statute miles. I began to understand how today was one of those "test" days. You know, the kind where you find out if you're a likely candidate to come unglued and start shooting the place up.
5 - Found out I am a candidate, just a very patient one. There is a time and place for everything...
6 - Went to both the Cingular and Sprint stores to compare bandwidth of their "high speed" PC cards. Found neither to be fast enough to buy one. Felt like a total loser/asshole/geek afterward. Attempted to drink away my feelings of insufficiency at a bar called O'Charley's.
7 - Got hit on by a woman who can't recognize signs of disinterest, apathy or revulsion. Her opening line was "are you a mortgage guy?" Yeah, um... thanks. "Are you a librarian?"
8 - Went home and threw some boneless beef backribs and asparagus on the grill. Drank copious amounts of scotch. Mixed Violet what I call a "Bladder Infection." (cranberry/ vodka)
9 - Wrote this blog entry with half a buzz. I am now going to attempt to half the other find. Er, find the other half. Whatever.
Have a great weekend, wherever you are. Delurk for a change and tell me what's up. By tomorrow, I will be read enough to (burp!!!) sober it. (shits pants)

Thursday, January 25, 2007

Pointing Out Ludicrosity (and at the same time, pointing out there's no such word)

In an effort to solidify my position among the revelers on Valentine's Day, (or Balumtime's Day, as Emily calls it) I called to make reservations at The Melting Pot.

I had an hunch this would begin to happen - restaurants now require CONTRACTS for dining.

First, they don't even offer their standard menu on Valentine's Day, only a steak/lobster 5-course meal. Second, the cost is 70 per person, with an automatic 20 percent gratuity, and... are you sitting down? You must pay for your meal at the signing of the contract. 100 percent up-front payment required, which is $168, not including drinks.

If you're 15 minutes late, or you have to cancel due to illness or death, you get NO refund and no food... once your card is charged, (which is the same day you sign the contract) you get nothing back. Not even the gratuity.

Believe me, I am not a tight-ass when it comes to dining. I like nicer restaurants, and it's not unusual to have 150 to 200 dollar tabs for a good meal now and then. But requiring a contract is too much... and paying in advance? HA. That'll be the day.

I do love the Melting Pot as a specialty destination... but I am incensed about their Valentine's Day policy. I wrote them an email to express that - and to cancel my reservation request.


At the coffee house where I go about 3 times a week, they know my first name. I know theirs. It's very cool.

And they get artistic with my Latte'. Enough for me to take this picture:

Matthew and Bob are the greatest, and I never have to sign a contract to get my coffee. What would life be without the simple pleasures?


The lottery is something I am really looking forward to winning someday. Maybe not even so much "looking forward," more of a "must-win" situation. I've made commitments that depend on it.

A group of friends were talking the other night about what we'd do if we won the lottery. The Powerball is up to 250 million now... so CLEARLY, we're all playing. Some of the interesting things we decided we'd do included:

1 - Buying the home on each side of someone who screwed you over. Allow trashy people to live there free, complete with a 1975 Camaro on blocks, non-mowed yard and loud, loud music.

2 - Hire an attorney to make someone miserable. An ex-spouse, for instance. A real Jekyl/Hyde person who had (hypothetically, of course) taken advantage of your generosity early in the relationship by letting you pay off all her debts from HER PREVIOUS MARRIAGE, her attorneys fees and mechanical bills, then screwed someone else while you were married, left you with all the debt and sued you for divorce, lied like a RUG in court about her income, your marriage and your pets, gotten the judge to believe her bullshit, and secured a judgment which would practically buy her a house that she didn't earn and furniture she didn't have to buy. (again, of course all hypothetical)

3 - Pay off mortgages of family and close friends. But don't just give them cash.

4 - Pay off all personal debt and invest every dime of the rest in a moderately aggressive fashion, and try to live off the interest earnings... which would be probably 5 to 10 million a year.

5 - Buy a property on the beach in Mexico, a property in the mountains and a place in between.

6 - Start a hobby business that will pay for itself and be personally fulfilling.
Did you notice that much of the ideas expressed among our friends involves revenge-like activity? I realize it's a waste of time and resources, but c'mon... don't you have at least one person you'd screw with a little?

What is the first thing you'd do if you won 250 mil?

Saturday, January 20, 2007

Everything's a blog entry

I captured this photo tonight... of an obvious blog addict. She's taking a picture of the things she CLEANED OUT OF THE FRIDGE... to post on her blog.*

I will refrain from naming names, but it's Violet. She's going to blog about how many mustards we have.

Sorry, I forgot to say "spoiler alert!"

Anyway, I thought you should know what I'm dealing with... a certified blog addict. Stop her before she takes the camera in the bathroom to document her corn-count or something.

UPDATE: Click here to read her fridge story. That's funny, I don't care who you are.

Walking into the restaurant last night:

Violet - "Look at all the religious bumper stickers in the parking lot."
Dave - "I wonder if it's church meeting night at Bristol's."
Violet - "You know what would be fun? If we go in and excitedly talk about how 60 percent of the world's population just mysteriously disappeared."
Dave - "So they would all think they didn't make the cut for the rapture. Funny shit."
Violet - "Yeah."


There is no pet toy quite like a laser pointer pen. It's especially funny to make the pet believe it has gone insane by causing the dot to appear erratically here and there. The animal runs to it, then it disappears. The animal then begins patrolling the entire house looking for the elusive red dot.

Insane pets are the greatest kind.


It has just begun snowing, and Em/Vi is decorating a cake for her mother's birthday dinner tomorrow night. I am busy preparing our dinner, which consists of bacon-wrapped scallops (on the grill, of course) topped with an interesting apricot/horseradish chutney I threw together. A side salad, glass of wine and the curtains open to the backyard so we can watch the white stuff pile up.


*What does it say about me that I am blogging about somebody else blogging? This is a REAL sign of armageddon.

Thursday, January 18, 2007

The Thursday Mosh

I keep thinking I will be able to depend on Blogger again soon. Surely Google will either offer a quality, dependable product, or get off the pot. Apparently they're reading the sports page. (I never understood why people are on the toilet long enough to read something or do puzzles)

I've heard about Typepad, myspace (GOD forbid) and xanga. None of them appeal to me because everyone knows my current address... daveswindow.blogspot.com.

I know the 'beta' is supposed to be an upgrade, but they won't let me switch yet because my blog is too big. Oh sure, I've been turned down for other things because of huge size, but c'mon... this is the internet, which is the figurative "cavernous beaver."

Actually I'm just working through my frustration with Blogger by writing about it. Therapy for free.

And now, I feel better.


Time for some photo fun. This is the brainchild of Chris Cope. Hold the camera between your feet and use the timer to snap a self portrait!

Pick a creative position (on your back) or setting (on the couch) and snap a picture. Go on, do it. I'll wait.

(drumming fingers, picking nose, changing channels, checking balls)


Here's the same picture, only touched up to make me look older:

Do your own and post it. Or not. Whatever.


Scrubs took the form of a musical tonight. It was a good refresher on why I don't like musicals. Could it be that Scrubs "jumped the shark" tonight?

Speaking of television, American Idol began this week, and it never fails to disappoint me how disappointing it is, especially during tryouts. Every season the show attracts more and more attention-mongers who have no musical intentions.

Some contestants have no shame or pride. And that attracts VIEWERS with no shame or pride. Which brings us back to me. Oh well, it gets better when they get to Hollywood.


I've been around the block a few times, relationship-wise. Who hasn't, right? But through all of them, for whatever reason, I've chosen people either ill-suited to my personality or gold-diggers who want a free ride.

Much love to my best friend Emily, who put an end to that trend. She is the one who best understands me, appreciates my sort of unique "take" on things, and stays in spite of it all. We met one year ago this week. I am thankful for her and felt like sharing my good fortune with you.

This one's going to stick, I know it.

Monday, January 15, 2007

Milk Day Musings*

Sitting here in Picasso's Coffee House today, it occurred to me that I'm not alone on the technological cutting edge anymore.

As I look around the room, 75 percent of the customers are on a laptop. Even a woman who can only be described as a tech-challenged-looking grandmother of about 60.

I am convinced that Apple's new iPhone will be to mobile wireless connectivity what technicolor was to movies. We are taking a Rosie O'Donnell-sized step toward each other and the future, all of us connected by a wi-fi cloud, the meaning and potential of which we've only begun to discover.

The iPhone will do things we've only imagined could be done in a box this small. It does almost everything a laptop can do, except make a grandma look cool in a coffee house.

In the past two years I've "gone iPod," gotten TWO new PDAs, upgraded to a new steroid-fueled laptop, driven a car with GPS, satellite phone and voice-activated everything... and I STILL find myself lagging behind the truly technologically advanced among us. My living room still features an old-fashioned non-HD TV (um Mike, we need to go shopping), I haven't even wired my surround speakers in my media room (um Mike II, what are you doing this weekend?), and I still haven't found a way to get my laundry to do itself.


A conversation from about 10 minutes ago:
Me to Vi: "What do you want to have tonight?"

Back to me: "How about hot, steamy, raunchy............ chicken?"

Me to Vi: "Is that kosher?"

Back to me: "That's funny, I don't care who you are."

It doesn't take much to entertain us.


We finally took the christmas tree down yesterday. I noticed that the feelings you get when you're putting UP the tree and when you're taking DOWN the tree are exactly opposite. However, the scratches you get on your arms from those pokey needles are the same.

I'm fairly organized person, with numbered containers for certain parts of the tree, certain containers for certain kinds of ornaments, etc. but it never goes back into the basement the way it came out.


Are we a product of genetics or environment? It's looking more and more like genetics largely guides us toward who we will become. We learn a lot from our parents, and usually since they are our genetic templates, that which they teach us tends to reinforce our genetic predisposition, but it's amazing what DNA coding does for us. (or against us)

As Vi and I were discussing what our child would look and act like, (if we were to ever have one, that is) I became fearful of which habits or tendencies I might pass along to my offspring:

1 - General skepticism.
2 - Making Barbie do dirty things.
3 - Fear of abandonment.
4 - Blaming others for gaseous emissions.
5 - Self doubt.
At the same time, there are positive traits I would hope to pass along:

1 - Wariness of unbelievable things.
2 - Knowledge that everyone has selfish motives... everyone.
3 - Honesty.
4 - Barbie has bendable knees for a reason.
5 - Knowledge that voluntary ignorance is apalling and self-destructive.
Most of all, I would hope to pass along that you will always get f*#ked in the drive-thru.


The Superbowl will be fine, as long as Indianapolis beats the Patriots in the playoffs. I can't bear to watch another Superbowl with Tom Brady in it.

I'm excited about the prospects of the Bears going all the way, yet the Saints would be a great Cinderella story. I'll have to call that one a tie. But c'mon Indy, kick New England's ASS.

Can you tell I'm still a little bitter about Superbowl XXXVI?????


Ice storm over, ice melted, life back to normal. (at least for me) Now we can begin counting the days until Spring arrives. That's okay. I have a fireplace, shelves and shelves of books and movies, a cupboard full of popcorn and comfort food, and the company of an amazing friend to keep things interesting. Cloudy and cold is only a state of mind.

*Milk day is MLK day.

Thursday, January 11, 2007

Telemarketers and spammers

Between the emails for boner pills and the automated calls I now get on my cell phone... which feature a quiet phone line, in hopes you will call them back at the 800 number that appears on your CID... I'm about fed up.

Oh, let's not forget that my mailbox is filled daily with reams of waste. Coupons I never use, fake checks from mortgage companies and credit cards, things that look hand-written so I will open them. God, people. Leave me alone. Because of these tactics, I'll buy the OTHER guys' products before I will buy yours, don't you understand that?

My email address (which I've never used for anything except sending and receiving mail from my clients) now gets 10 to 20 pieces of spam every day. Where do they get my information?

I am generally a "less government, fewer laws" kind of guy. But the more invasive these marketing tactics become, the more I'm in favor of regulation. Missouri has a "no-call" list, which has been fairly effective. Now, the bastards have begun calling my cell phone. The cell number I've had for years, the one everyone knows, has now been violated. I feel like a crime victim.

I'm pissed.

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

At this moment, when I have nothing to say...

... this made me laugh.

via Aly's World, a quickly growing repository of all things funny. Have you ever had a bad experience with Verizon? Silly question, haven't we all?

Saturday, January 06, 2007

Random Enlightenment (only without the part about being enlightened)

Why are cats so arrogant about toys from the pet store, (which cost 20 bucks) yet will spend an entire afternoon chasing around a wad of paper? Because they are trying to make a point - you are stupid, they are crafty improvisors.


Never fill a person's mouth with spray-can whipped cream if you even have an inkling that they will spit it back in your face. That's just common sense.

You can tell someone over and over that you are an asshole, yet they insist on finding out for themselves. What's that about?


If humans are the dominant species, why can't we:
A: Remember that sun burns?
B: Remember that alcohol causes vomiting?
C: Remember to flush the goddamn toilet in public restrooms?
D: Remember that our kids say what WE say?
E: Remember to add the softener?

Why do we call them stop lights? They are green as much as they are red, yet we never call them go lights. Or gas-this-bitch-because-it's-almost-red lights.

My desire for sex is inversely proportionate to the read-out on the bathroom scale. That's why I masturbated with reckless abandon in high school... I weighed 142. Now at 210, I'm lucky if I want sex twice a day.

Beer costs 3.50 in a bar. There are 10.66667 bottles of beer in a gallon. That means beer costs $37.34 a gallon. Yet we cringe at:
A: Orange juice - 3.99 a gallon (for better nutrition)
B: Gas - 2.29 a gallon (to get to work)
C: KY Jelly - 166.08 a gallon (okay, bad example)


Why don't all insurance companies merge into one big company, and call it Shit Happens insurance? We already make insurance companies pay for our car accidents, major health problems, mechanical malfunctions, even cancelled flights and lost bets. I propose the new Shit Happens insurance company covers all these things and more... such as:
A: Bad meals
B: Ass chafing
C: Broken fingernails
D: Smaller-than-average breasts
E: Milk going bad before the expiration date

Seedless oranges, grapes, tangerines, watermelons... I ask you: WTF? Do oranges now give birth? My biology teacher always told me that you need seeds to grow a plant. (he also taught me that you never smoke the seed, but that's another story) How are we getting more than one tree of seedless... anything?

Until I learn how it works, I will consider each seedless thing a miraculous event... and worship it instead of consuming it.

Unless I'm hungry.

Monday, January 01, 2007

Grandpa K's personal gift

If you live around here, you may be familiar with a guy named Howard Kirkpatrick. But wherever you live, you probably know someone like him.

At age 86, "Grandpa K" is the patriarch of a family I'm good friends with, and he's lived a very long, full life. He spent most of it around here, so lots of people know him. (you should see him walk through the grocery store, he knows everyone!) Just a really neat, good man.

So when he decided to record some of the stories that make up his life to give to his family, I was happy to provide the time and equipment. We used a wireless microphone and recorded the interview while sitting at the dining room table with a cup of coffee.

I burned his stories, along with a few songs he's famous for singing, onto two CDs... and he gave copies to his kids and grandkids for Christmas this year. Apparently, there wasn't a dry eye in the place when he handed them out.

I think it's a great idea! The stories that make up the patchwork of our lives might otherwise die with us. To keep them alive for your family is a loving gesture, and a great way to pass along your legacy.

These photos were taken during our "conversation"... it's amazing how much you can tell about a person just from a photo.

Thanks Grandpa K. I think you're "the cat's pajamas." I will always remember our chat.