The Heat Miser?
This birthday has been an odd one. It was unseasonably warm yesterday, in the afternoon, followed by gale-force winds, and heavy rains. In the morning, all the things that used to be up on the rooftops were littering the streets.
This is the sort of weather that leads to catastrophes along the lines of the Columbus Day Storm of the early '60's: take that, Chris! But also, let's face it: too weirdly warm when in ain't supposed to be warm=bad. It was funny to watch all of us preparing to go have fun last night, celebrating the alleged virgin birth of Our Savior (Me, and I'm gonna hafta go ask Mom about that), while gathering candles, batteries and non-electric lighting devices.
The celebration itself was small n' dignified. At its apex, it boasted all of nine people. And a lot of the evening (especially the later part) was devoted to me dealing with the drama of others. Not surprising. This is my life, and for the most part, this is what I do. It was oddly affirming: no, no, don't go, doctor. We need yez, roundabouts heres.
Not that I was going anywhere. It's funny to watch the news coverage, since generally speaking the weather-related tragedy occurs elsewhere. Three people died last night in the Northwest, but mind you, that ain't nothin' compared to, say, Katrina. But news is news and cheap-ass hyperbole is also what I just called it. Slow news day?
How could it be? In any case, tonight I'm 'onna go see The Buttery Lords , who are releasing their CD, finally. It has commentary tracks, just like a DVD, but not! Thence to The Gorge, I think, since The Red Carpet hasn't seen me in a while.
Happy My Birthday, everyone, and remember, it's impossible to prepare for the unforeseen.
Shit. I'm sorry. That came out a lot darker than I meant it to. Shit. Anyway. Who's sportin' cash around here?
This is the sort of weather that leads to catastrophes along the lines of the Columbus Day Storm of the early '60's: take that, Chris! But also, let's face it: too weirdly warm when in ain't supposed to be warm=bad. It was funny to watch all of us preparing to go have fun last night, celebrating the alleged virgin birth of Our Savior (Me, and I'm gonna hafta go ask Mom about that), while gathering candles, batteries and non-electric lighting devices.
The celebration itself was small n' dignified. At its apex, it boasted all of nine people. And a lot of the evening (especially the later part) was devoted to me dealing with the drama of others. Not surprising. This is my life, and for the most part, this is what I do. It was oddly affirming: no, no, don't go, doctor. We need yez, roundabouts heres.
Not that I was going anywhere. It's funny to watch the news coverage, since generally speaking the weather-related tragedy occurs elsewhere. Three people died last night in the Northwest, but mind you, that ain't nothin' compared to, say, Katrina. But news is news and cheap-ass hyperbole is also what I just called it. Slow news day?
How could it be? In any case, tonight I'm 'onna go see The Buttery Lords , who are releasing their CD, finally. It has commentary tracks, just like a DVD, but not! Thence to The Gorge, I think, since The Red Carpet hasn't seen me in a while.
Happy My Birthday, everyone, and remember, it's impossible to prepare for the unforeseen.
Shit. I'm sorry. That came out a lot darker than I meant it to. Shit. Anyway. Who's sportin' cash around here?
Labels: my personals
posted by rich bachelor | 7:12 PM
5 Comments:
Happy, Happy, Happy, hope you had a
wonderful Birthday!!!
Yeah - death alley was way too much fun last night. Power was out from Tacoma to Knappa and trees were fallin all over I-5. WEE-WHOO! Nothing quite like having 18 wheelers passing you at 85 mph while mother nature throws giant tree limbs at yer wind screen.
And happy birthday you old flatulator!
the future is unwritten: know your rights
and how. good on ya', for surviving another year, and tonight, i'll raise a glass to you plowing through another one at break-neck speed with all the agility of a young john stockton.
and, me and the girly-girl look forward to running into you during the holidays. glad to hear you weathered the storm.
Oh, and here's a good one:
last night at dinner, the waitress hears that I'm all of 36 and says, "You don't look that Old!"
And you could already see the look on her face: Attempted Compliment gone seriously wrong.
"And you're..." I said, "the nicest waitress I've had all day.", and when she smiled, all those acne scars on her face turned bright red.
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