Conjunction junction, what's your major malfunction?
Is there such a thing as car lag? I can't say I'm feeling jet lag, as I've been nowhere near a jet lately. But I was behind the wheel of my car for nearly nine hours yesterday. Yes, smartass - it was moving; I wasn't just sitting in the driveway going "Wooooo! Faster, faster! My dad lets me drive slow in the driveway on Sunday!"
Well, when I say the car was moving, I don't always mean at a satisfying speed. There's some construction on the toll road near Gary, Indiana (go ahead and sing the song - you know you want to) where I do not exaggerate when I tell you that it took me an hour and a half to move about a mile. I would've stabbed myself in the eye if I had not wisely put all eye-poking implements waaaaay in the back of the car before I left.
I had to go to a pawn shop today with some of my guitars. Well, I didn't have to, but the prospect of hauling all that shit back home, putting it on eBay, and then having to package it up to mail just makes my head throb like I stepped into an icepick flinging contest.
I'm at a hotel in Flint that advertises high-speed internet access. What they really mean, I think, is slow, sporadic internet access that does little more than tease and taunt the user. I've had better 'net connections in a backwoods outhouse connected to a tin can and a string. So, I'm typing this from the PC in the lobby.
They just turned out the light over my head; I wonder if they think I'm surfing for porn back here. Come to think of it, this lighting IS rather conducive to a little romantical self gratification, and there's a nice little fake fireplace over by the couch. Wonder what they'd do if I whipped out a giant vibrator in the lobby. Um, not that I own a giant vibrator, mind you. Unless you consider thermos-sized as "giant."
This post is going nowhere faster than a drunken, blindfolded turtle walking backward. There's a bottle of chianti in my room just begging me to put it out of its misery. I'll see you all when the batteries on the thermos die.
Well, when I say the car was moving, I don't always mean at a satisfying speed. There's some construction on the toll road near Gary, Indiana (go ahead and sing the song - you know you want to) where I do not exaggerate when I tell you that it took me an hour and a half to move about a mile. I would've stabbed myself in the eye if I had not wisely put all eye-poking implements waaaaay in the back of the car before I left.
I had to go to a pawn shop today with some of my guitars. Well, I didn't have to, but the prospect of hauling all that shit back home, putting it on eBay, and then having to package it up to mail just makes my head throb like I stepped into an icepick flinging contest.
I'm at a hotel in Flint that advertises high-speed internet access. What they really mean, I think, is slow, sporadic internet access that does little more than tease and taunt the user. I've had better 'net connections in a backwoods outhouse connected to a tin can and a string. So, I'm typing this from the PC in the lobby.
They just turned out the light over my head; I wonder if they think I'm surfing for porn back here. Come to think of it, this lighting IS rather conducive to a little romantical self gratification, and there's a nice little fake fireplace over by the couch. Wonder what they'd do if I whipped out a giant vibrator in the lobby. Um, not that I own a giant vibrator, mind you. Unless you consider thermos-sized as "giant."
This post is going nowhere faster than a drunken, blindfolded turtle walking backward. There's a bottle of chianti in my room just begging me to put it out of its misery. I'll see you all when the batteries on the thermos die.
Katy Barzedor proclaimed this to be so at 12:00 AM
13 of you felt the overwhelming need to say somethin':
Okay, rather than correct it, I only feel the need to comment on a passage from my own post:
"This post is going nowhere faster than a drunken, blindfolded turtle walking backward."
WHAT THE FUCK SENSE DOES THAT MAKE?
That's it. I should never post when I'm sober.
You're not leaving the rabbit's nest, right? Back to Flint?
Sell a kidney before selling a guitar. I sold a '68 Telecaster for $600 to pay for a semester of graduate school tuition. I should have just quit. I miss that guitar and could never buy a new one.
No, no, I'm just tying up loose ends here and takin' care of bizness...when I'm done, it's right back to the Rabbit's nest! I even had a couple of cats telling me how much they missed me on the cell phone tonight.
I'm selling off the stuff that doesn't have heavy sentimental value attached to it - in other words, the Tele, the Jagstang, and the MusicMaster bass won't be going anywhere!
You see... they make vibrators disguised as lipsticks and other cosmetics, why not as a thermos as well??
WOW, is that spam I've just followed here in the comments section?
If so, that's some GOOD spam.
Shit, I just had a long comment and my stupid internet kicked out.
grumble, grumble
you are so wild,i love your writings and they always put a smile on my face,you go girl....
I was going to comment about what you wrote, then I checked out the "spamment" and lost my train of thought...among other things.
It had something to do with a thermos and bad internet connection though.
Is it a good sized thermos or one of those kid-size Starbucks things? These things make a difference, you know.
I hope you got your stuff all wrapped up, kid, and can now live 100% in the nest. :)
I want a thermos. :o)
we have a big stainless steel thermos--wouldn't that be a wee bit too cold? If you leave the lid loose--it can sure get you wet, haha--get it? Coffee in the thermos...and it spills...heheh...um, OK, I should go...
That post requires a song...
"I'm picking out a thermos for you.
Not an ordinary thermos for you.
But the extra best thermos that you can buy,
With vinyl and stripes and a cup built right in!
I'm picking out a thermos for you,
And maybe a barometer too,
And what else can I buy so on me you'll rely,
A rear end thermometer too."
Bucky, there is ALWAYS some construction on the toll road near Gary! I have never driven on it when there hasn’t been.
I hope you did better at the pawn shop with your guitars than I did with mine: $700.00 for a 2-year-old, $2500.00 Taylor 12-string. That made me sick, but I needed the money.
I once stayed in a hotel near Jim Thorpe, PA, where I paid extra for “high-speed internet access.” I had a faster connection years ago with my old 386 and dial-up. Seems hotel advertising is as honest as every other type.
Whether “thermos-sized” is gigantic or not is beyond the point. All you really needed was a small “bullet” & a battery.
I hope you enjoyed the Chianti!
You're right: posting sober does have disadvantages. I can picture in my mind "a drunken, blindfolded turtle walking backward" whereas I have been unable to create a mental picture of some of the other stuff you've described.
Bucky, you always crack my shit up. (Yes, I'm new here but have been reading for a while.)
And P.S. to Sometimes Saintly Nick: I live near Jim Thorpe PA! It cracks me up that they consider it the Poconos. Internet does suck around here. I get mine through the cable company.
Bucky, hope you get everything done that you need to do. And have a safe trip home.
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