So After Tonight

Hubs Hiding His Face In Shame After Manbunting, Sheridan Middle School, Denver

Feh. Got our asses kicked in kickball on Wednesday. Afterward a few of us sauntered over to Sobo 151 to watch the Red Sox/Yankees series wrap up. I was too enthralled with the menu to care about who won the game. Sobo is a Czech themed hockey/soccer bar. To bad the is no real hockey this season (Yet. Come on, keep the dream alive). Anyway, it’s a cool bar if you not hip enough for the Skylark.

I have been on the verge of getting sick all week but have been able to stave it off. This might not be so after tonight. I am, however doing much better than last year.

Last night I took it easy had a large bowl of homemade chili and sat on the couch and watched Confessions Of A Dangerous Mind. It was a pretty good flick when you take it tongue in cheek. For some reason I think the CIA is a metaphor for some person or entity in corporate hollywood but I’m probably reading a lot into that.

Goodbye all my beautiful apple pies à la mode.

My Office

My Office, Uptown, Denver

This spring I bought a computer. A nice new Dell laptop with all the works. So loaded with the newest gadgets that it barely qualifies as a laptop. It’s more of a portable desktop. But it has one of those WiFi cards in it. Because of this, combined with the fact that I don’t have a landline let alone an internet provider, I’m constantly on the look out for hotspots. After scouring my neighborhood I found one on 17th Avenue, behind Williams Tavern. The link mentions the free brunch but fails to mention the free internet access. Anyway, last night I took a picture of my “office”; it’s that little patch of grass behind the dumpster. It’s from there that I have been replying to your emails, posting new entries, searching for cheap flights, and downloading porn all summer. Stop by sometime if you’re in the neighborhood. Though, now that the weather has cooled off a bit and the crack heads have found that little nook in the brick wall on the right, I haven’t been spending as much time there.

These Truths I Hold Self Evident

I like my coffee the way I like women: blonde and creamy
I like my coffee the way I like women: hot and wet
I like my coffee the way I like women: steamy and in large cups
I like my coffee the way I like women: fullbodied
I like my coffee the way I like women: first thing in the morning
I like my coffee the way I like women: strong and keeping me up all night
I like my coffee the way I like women: dribbling down my chin
I like my coffee the way I like women: drunk, horny, writhing on my living room floor, and dressed up in a catholic schoolgirl’s uniform with her skirt hiked up around her waist exposing her one-size-too-small, slightly wet panties, and letting out barely audible, breathy little moans.

The Stench

It had been a long time since I had done my dishes. I tackled the project last night but it sucked because the smell was absolutely horrendous. I actually gagged a little at first. Then I lit some incense in the kitchen just to drown out whatever it was that smelt like dogshit in my sink. Well everything is all scrubbed and cleaned and sparkling now but it was awfully trying at first.

One time, when I was living with Oats, there was a stink that was coming from the kitchen. We couldn’t quite place where the smell was coming from. It seemed to be emanating from somewhere near the sink but it would waft and gasp throughout the kitchen making its source hard to place. So naturally we thought it must be from the wastebasket we kept under the sink. I immediately took the trash out to the dumpster, despite the fact that the basket was only half full. Sometimes it only takes one foul item to make a completely offensive statement. The next day the stench had returned. After a sniffing session that still resulted in no known source, Oats went about completely cleaning the kitchen. This kept the kitchen area smelling of sterile-sweet citrus 409 for a couple of days. But after that, the malodorous funk was back to haunt us with its rancid vapor. We decided that the smell must be emanating from the garbage disposal unit. A couple of days later, after running a swimming pool worth of water and soap down the drain, Oats went and bought a new disposal unit. After the unit was installed, we had suspected we were in the clear. Our suspicions were inaccurate and faulty. The odor did not want to leave. Just when Oats was starting to panic that her kitchen was going to be forever unusable, it was discovered that putrid fetor was issuing forth from an African Violet that I had place by the flour and sugar jars. I was humiliated and feeling guilty that I had let my plant cause all of this havoc. I’m not sure why this plant had stunk so violently. Possibly it had some sort of root rot or something. I’ll never be sure. But I do know, from then on I have kept all my African Violets healthy and happy. And when Oats demurely lets a little flatulence slip on by, I’ll thoughtfully let her place full blame on my leafy green friends.

Cause It’s Got No Pressure

It’s pretty much guaranteed I stink to high hell right now. I’ve been sick all weekend, not deathly ill, but enough to make me roll around in sweaty hot flashes while sleeping. And I didn’t shower yesterday. Why shower when you’re not feeling well? Why bathe when it’s known that you won’t be leaving the sofa, let alone the apartment, all day? It’s allowed. I allow myself to wallow in my own sick when I actually am sick. So when I woke up this morning and the water pressure in my apartment was shot, I mean it wasn’t even trickle pissing, I was a little disappointed. I waited for about fifteen minutes before I went down and bitched to the manager who had no real excuse and said she had already called the landlord but didn’t know when it would be fixed. So I grabbed a pitcher half full of water from watering plants the night before and dumped it over my head so as to semi-style my hair. Then I put deodorant on my unwashed pits, which is, let’s face it, really just putting perfume on the pig. I used the last of the water in my Brita filter to brush my teeth and swallow vitamins. I’ve still got four days worth of stubble on my chin and cheeks. So I avoided as much interaction with office-mates as I could today, feeling sorry for them cause I can smell my own ripeness sitting here at my computer. Good god I hope the water pressure is back when I get home.