No Post Today

Actually, I guess it should say there is no post today, other than a post saying that there is no post today.

I suppose I could just as readily have said, "This post intentionally left blank."

I've often wondered why they do that in texts - they write "this page intentionally left blank" on a page. This self-contradiction makes me laugh - they just printed that on the page, so can you call it blank? What the hell?

And why do they call it "dusting the furniture" ? Shouldn't they be taking the dust OFF the furniture - maybe ANTI-dusting the furniture would be better?

And what's the point of a hot water heater. The water is hot. Why the hell would you heat it? It's already hot. Durf.

And of course there are all of these oxymorons:
Government Trust
Military Intelligence
Honest Man
Logical Woman
Reasonable Child

I suppose we just have to live with our own contradictions... perhaps it is just a sign of how we are as people... it just is the way it is.
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Well... whatever, I guess. Have a great weekend!

Or is that week-beginning?

I (Have) Never...

• have an HNT pic ready until the last minute - hence, no pic today - yes, I truly suck
• thought I would see things the way I see them now.
• have exact change for tolls - I love Smart Tag
• had sex with a man, boy, male of the species
• been on TV, to my recollection... except maybe as one of a very large group, like the Marching Virginians of Virginia Tech
• met Kevin Bacon
• met the president
• believed that the speed of light is the absolute limit... being that it is relative
• had a child... that I know of
• been in a jail cell - knock on wood for keeping this one so
• had the chance to join the Mile High Club
• not paid someone back that I borrowed money from - if I have, please write me and tell me otherwise cause I really did not intend to... I'm pretty good about it, you know?
• served in the military
• liked hospitals
• eaten emu, snake, or possum
• thought I was a "hottie" - I can usually go with "cute" and "charming"... that works for me, so who am I to complain?
• been good at getting my taxes done on time... hope the IRS isn't checking out my blog. Not to worry, you guys owe me money... so back off!
• enough time to write what I want... some of the time... like now.

Peace for now - maybe more later.
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Meetings

They say that meetings are great - that they inspire productivity and efficiency - that they generate great new ideas - that they are the cornerstone of any good, well-oiled machine of a business.

Yeah. Right. I say someone invented these things to torture yours truly.

Dammit... I am in the middle of one right now - short break - and now I must return.

If you don't hear from me again, it is likely that the contents of the meeting have completely blanked my mind and put me upon some cult-like path of conform, wherein I start to wear polo shirts and khakis every day to work, and call my friends "Dude".

God help me and have mercy on my soul...
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The Nature of Truth

Truth. You would think that such a nice little word would be so simple to define. The more I go along, the more I realize that truth is more slippery than an eel and more ephemeral than Jim Morrison's ghost. It's certainly harder to find than proof of Bigfoot's existence and more difficult to acquire than a good picture of Nessie, the Loch Ness Monster.

It always seems so subjective, too. What is truth to one person is simply a cover to another. One person might actually believe something that is false but accept is as truth. Does it make it any less true to that person? I suppose not.

I guess the real problem with such truths is when you try to apply your personal truths to other people...specifically, people who don't feel the same way... or people who simply "know better".

This reminds me of an incident from the "wilder" days of my youth. (Some would, of course, deny that my youth was truly wilder than my current life, but that's mere speculation and a topic for a different blog entry.) In any event, I got suspended from school. It was just an in school suspension for something really stupid, to be sure.

What was fascinating about this little tale is the word that spread about the reasons for my self-caused imprisonment. Some tales were simple - got busted with pot, cussed out a teacher, got into a fight. Other tales were much wilder, and usually combined the typical elements into something larger than life.

Far be it from reason to get in the way of such a tale.

This one cat named Ed - we called him Bucky cause we were cruel little bastards back in the day... really cruel... of course, he was really annoying and a bit of an asshole so we felt no need to revise the name, truth be known... and, again, there's that word - in any event, Bucky came up to me the day after I got out of "prison" and walked up to me and asked me how it felt. Of course, I asked him what the hell he was talking about and he unfolded this tale about what I had done.

He KNEW it to be absolutely TRUE regardless of what I told him.

Funny, you would think that I, of all people, would know the truth of the matter when it came to why I was in I.S.S., wouldn't you?

His tale went something like this:
The teachers insisted that they be allowed to search my locker because I was suspected of using or distributing drugs in school. This was a constant rumor held about me - I'm sure in part due to my half-asian eyes which gave me the look of someone constantly stoned. Well, as his tale claimed, I refused so the teacher grabbed me and shoved me against a locker. My response was to straight up slug the teacher in the face and as he was stumbling back I apparently pulled out this six inch blade, of which I owned none, and held him at bay with this knife. It seems I was a real bad-ass cause it took 2 cops and 3 teachers to finally take me down.

And for this I earned 3 days in In School Suspension.

Umm... say what? Methinks I would earn more like 1-5 years in Juvie or the state pen for that, no?

And like I said, no matter how I protested and told him that was not at all true, he insisted it was. Hell, he even went so far as to claim that he SAW it.

Unbelievable.

Seriously - he said he saw it. I wouldn't kid you about this... you can trust me to tell you the "truth"...

Now, how the hell do you only get 3 days I.S.S. for assault and battery, whipping out a deadly (and concealed) weapon, threatening the use of deadly force, and resisting arrest - not to mention the apparent multitudes of drug charges they were going to have against me? It's beyond me, I can tell you that much.

Now what was the truth? I got busted and sent to I.S.S. because I was late to school six times without a note to excuse my tardiness.

Truth is a funny thing. Kinda makes you wonder if there is anything true at all.
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Yet Another 101 Things About Moi

Since I have completely lost my original train of thought, I decided to pull one of the oldie but goody blog tricks and use a "standard" idea to fill out the thoughts for the day. Being that it is also MeMe Monday, here are 101 Me Things. I guess the trick is not to duplicate from the previous list, eh?...

And having reread some of these list items... damn, I'm getting deep. You have been warned.

1. I can neither confirm nor deny that I have inhaled...
2. but I've been to a number of Dead Shows...
3. and several Phish shows...
4. and Bonnaroo...
5. where I slugged through a mile of ankle to knee deep mud to go see the Dead close the second night in 2004...
6. and loved every minute of it
   
7. I grew up in Hawaii, yet only had 1 chance to ever go surfing...
8. My father was a bit protective
9. And demanding
10. Every day I find myself saying more and more things that I have either heard or can imagine coming straight out of his mouth
11. Some of my best friends are black
12. I love it/hate it when people say things like #11 cause it is such the backhanded compliment... makes me laugh
13. I believe in political correctness
14. That is to say, I believe political correctness exists... I also believe that it should be eliminated completely so that we can finally "all just learn to get along"
15. I'm a smart-ass almost all the time
16. I think it might be at least partly genetic
17. Those who once believed I am a Cancer rising have since accepted my belief that I am really a Leo rising, given my crowd-ho tendencies and the love of being loved upon... then again, who WOULDN'T love that?
18. I still wonder at the truly dark thoughts in my soul... and I mean, they are DARK!
    
19. I used to write almost daily in a journal, the events and thoughts of my life
20. It was a very private thing
21. I haven't really written in one in almost 3 months
22. I am not sure why... it happens sometimes... I just get in a go-with-the-flow phase and just let the day-to-day ride on by...
23. It's usually when the stress I getting to me and I just tire of having to write it and think about it all the time
24. Or sometimes, I just get tired of writing it all down
25. or it could be some other reason I am keeping private, like my journal, you nosy fargin' bastages!
    
26. It's fascinating looking back on those journals... I've come across many a passage that immediately paints the scene in my mind, crystal clear... yet I would never have remembered it otherwise...
27. and other scenes, I can't recall at all... even though I am reading all about it
28. The privacy of my darkest thoughts, and thus my journal, is HIGHLY important to me... I cannot stress that enough
    
29. I am terrible at placing names to faces
30. I am pretty good at remembering the faces, though...
31. I bought a purple zippo lighter on the way to Parris Island... it is very cool
32. Well, it's cool to me, at least. You non-smokers... dammit, I envy you sometimes
33. I am rereading Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time series yet again... I am on Book 6 for the 4th or 5th time now... why? Well, first, it takes a long time for the next book in the series to come out. Second, this series has a multitude of plot lines and more names to keep track of than War and Peace. Put that together and I forget a ton of details between books... and book 11, as in TEN plus ONE, just came out last November... and I really want to read it... and I've forgotten everything...
34. Anyway, I'm on Book 6 again and every rereading is like a fresh one.
35. I reread books often. It's a new me every time, so every reading is different and fresh... when it's a good book, at least.
36. I wrote a song called "One More Day"
37. It's subtitled "Bitch"
38. I'm willing to answer questions on it, if you want to ask.... it's a funny song, when you get past the basic concept and shock of the word, Bitch.
    
39. Contrary to SOME opinions, it was NOT written with any single person in mind... it is simply an amalgamation of some of the worst bits and pieces...
40. I'm a self-admitted crowd-ho
41. I love being a ham on the stage... this is basically a repeat of 39
42. I no longer enjoy just getting drunk...
43. I used to do it all the time in college...
44. but I got over it... now I like to attain and maintain a nice buzz
45. I don't understand why people go and get trashed when they are upset... it only makes things worse.... I mean, there's a reason alcohol is classified as a DEPRESSANT. Damn.
46. I miss my motorcycle
47. I am so busy (and slack at times, too) that I STILL haven't gotten it back on the road
48. I sometimes wonder if I am the only person in the world who CANNOT read minds - this would explain A LOT.
49. I am a flirt... a terrible, terrible flirt.
50. I don't believe that is inconsistent with being faithful. Not at all.
51. I sometimes think that I think too much for my own good...
52. yet sometimes I act without thinking enough...
53. My favorite colors are blue and purple... and red, really. Red looks good on me, so they say...
54. I am told that aquamarine or similar blue colors are the best for me to wear, particularly in the summertime when I am tan...
55. which I do easily.
56. I lost my virginity some time ago... I think it just fell out of a hole in my pocket or something
57. I lost my innocence when I moved from Hawaii to Virginia...
58. I was the butt of many a racist joke and relentless hounding by rednecks when we moved to this state, at the tender age of 12
59. I believe that was one of the defining moments for me... it certainly led to many of my actions and beliefs...
60. My closest sibling, my older sister, died on April Fool's Day... I was 19, on the verge of 20.
61. She was in an unfortunate, unscheduled meeting between an Amtrak train and her car on a cold mid-December night 3 and a half months prior...
    
62. the crossbar that should have prevented anyone from driving across the tracks only went across 1 1/4 of the 2 northbound lanes... she was ever the on-the-go kind of girl
63. I still miss her to this day
64. I often wonder how things would be now, after all these years, if she were still around... how would my life be different? Would she have helped me to NOT go out with some of the "bad girls"? Would I have stayed with any of the "good girls"? Hell, she might have been singing with my band - she had a good voice...
65. My oldest brother is the only one of us 4 siblings who does not have a "clearly good" voice - it is definitely good enough for rock and he does keep in tune... he is not musically and tonally challenged... it's just not church or choir clean like my other (older) brother's and mine. It's definitely more Bob Dylan/Tom Petty vs my brother's Josh Groban pretty or my Paul Simon "folksy" voice... And my sister could do the 80's Pat Benatar thing, for real.
66. I won first prize in the 5th grade science fair with my best friend, Deven, for our experiment on cockroaches.
67. We captured them from a tree and put different drinks in front of them - KoolAid, Coke, Pepsi, and water - and measured which one was drunk the most. I did a huge backdrop with all this research on the various kinds of roaches. KoolAid, with it's massive sugar content, won hands down... but in the other taste test? Coke beat Pepsi. Keep that in mind for future purposes... cockroaches agree...
    
68. There are tons of roaches in Hawaii... trust me. We used to go "roach stomping" at night in the neighborhoods.... inch-long suckers would run across the cul-de-sacs in the evenings and we would go hop on them like little ketchup packets, trying to aim the goo at our friends. Yeah, gross. Only kids would ever think of doing that.
69. In Hawaii, it is pronounced "cock - a - roach"...
70. I have a terrible "Save the Damsel in Distress" complex
71. It unfortunately gets abused sometimes
72. I envy some of my friends' happy marriages with or without children
73. I would love to have kids someday ... and that would likely have to be soon... at the rate I'm going, I'll be retired before the kids graduate
74. I have fears that I might be a terrible father...
75. Many people have told me that I would make a great dad... me? I'm not so certain. I think I could be a "fun" dad or a "buddy" dad... but a great father? I think there's a difference.
76. But I'm pretty sure my kids would have great hair and a smart mouth... for good or ill
77. I sometimes wonder that, regardless of my desire for a family/married life... if I am actually just built in the bachelor mode... or maybe I am just too used to having more free reign over my own life.
78. Or do I just suck?
79. I give really good massages... that's what they tell me...
80. I will admit to using that as one of several sleazy techniques to try to hook up.
81. It has actually almost worked once.
82. And then I got slapped.
83. Well, not really, but why let the truth get in the way of a good story?
84. I own several guitars - like... umm... 4 electric guitars, a nice bass, an acoustic bass, a classical, and 2 Martin acoustic electrics... yeah, I love the Martin sound. They sing to me.
85. My first Martin was a gift from one of my dearest friends.
86. She has done more for helping come out of my shell as a person AND as a musician than anyone else I know. You know who you are, if you are reading this... so THANK YOU once again.
87. There are some debts I feel can never be repaid
88. I also believe there are some debts that never need repaying... it's just part of the process of having TRUE friends and REAL family... they aren't debts... they are blessings given...
89. There is only one person I think I could never forgive, having turned his back on me during one of my very darkest hours...
90. I like to go target shooting
91. I like driving fast, and I think I'm good at it...
    
92. I collect 1/6 scale action figures... some of them are very cool, in a totally geek, doll-collecting kind of way. (They are NOT GI Joe's... just so you know)
93. I have an R.Lee Ermey motivational figure, for instance. He spouts several "motivational lines" - some of which came straight from his role in "Full Metal Jacket, one of the finest films ever. EVER.
94. Did I mention I'm a crowd ho? Some people think that's a good thing to be for a wanna-be front man in a rock band. I'm not sure if I'm the front man in the band, but I am definitely the funny guy to the more straight man on stage, Kirk... who is actually a damned sharp and witty, dude. We make ourselves laugh a lot on stage, even if it's an empty gig.
95. Every show I play, there is at least one moment of zen magnificence... one moment where all the notes and harmonies and rhythms align themselves and make us feel like "Wow... we were really good right there, at that point." I think Thursday, we had several of those... it was a REALLY good show.
96. We are going to seriously make a run of this TV thing... details to come.
97. I wish I could make a livelihood out of performing music and television and all the rest...
    
98. For now, I'm happy that I have it for my LOVElihood...
99. Yeah, that's not a typo and I came up with that term the other day...
100. I'm thinking about copyrighting/trademarking it... I mean if that boxing announcer can put a trademark on "Let's get ready to rummmmbllllleeee!!!!" then why can't I?
101. I had a really hard time thinking of 101 worthwhile things to write... I'm not so sure I succeeded... feel free to blast me for it

And there you go. 101 overly wordy, less than riotous, somewhat laughable more useless tidbits of information about your truly, the Wop. Hope you all have a great week, given that today is MONDAY, the day Satan came up with. Of course it was him... he had to follow up God somehow, didn't he?
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THANKS!!

I just want to send my gratitude and thanks to all the well-wishers out there and to those who actually came out to our show at the PourHouse last night. By all reports I have received, and those I have solicited for directly, we did well last night. Very well, according to some.

Maybe it's true. I can't say cause I am still coming down off the high I got from playing to an appreciative and decently-sized audience last night. They got me going and I got all kinds of pumped up off those endorphins and was in la la land for much of the night.

On a few of those songs, I was just so INTO it that I would realize halfway through that I was just dancing and bopping my head while I played.

You know, I used to look at dudes on stage that were all dancing about and think to myself, "Dude... you're totally being a dork. Why not just play the song?"

Well, I take it all back. I understand now.

No, wait. I GROK. I totally grok that vibe.

You can't stop it... it just takes over and you just ride the wave and let it go. The bouncing head and bouncing feet and the silly grin... all the way to the f""kfaces we guitarists make when we are playing some solo or lead guitar... it's all that same thing. No control - you are just so focused on the song, or so unfocused and letting it go that those things just happen.

It just does.

And it is such the damn rush.

I definitely got a big dose last night - and I hope it showed in our playing... people said it did.

Damn, I love endorphins.
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HNT - Hey, Nice Tweak

It's hardly a new thing to do on HNT, the photoshopped picture with a bazillion effects on it, but it's the best I could do on short notice.

This pic was taken in my brother's recording studio when he and I were recording the song I wrote for our Fathers' Day Gift. It's just too bad we didn't get a shot of me "playing the drums" on the MIDI keyboard...

Some day, I'll actually get an audio post up here with something I've recorded... you have all been so patient with that up until now - I promise that it is in the works, be it as a Government Cheese product, or my long-awaited solo release... which I have a title for, but I'm going to keep that one a secret for now as well, being that it really is a good title.

Well, I think it's a great title anyway...

Go see the Man from Osbasso for all your HNT details


And for any in the Richmond area, come check us out tonight at THE POUR HOUSE!
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4.20

This simple combination of numbers has started off more speculation into its meaning than any other I can think of. Most people mistakenly believe that it is some sort of California police code which supposedly means "Marijuana smoking in progress." That's not true.

I mean, let's look at that reasonably, first off... if it truly meant that... let's just picture L.A. for a second... the police scanner would be ablaze with nothing but 4.20 calls all damn day. I sometimes wonder if the smog over L.A. is not truly an inversion effect complicated by auto exhaust fumes, but rather a more Cheech and Chong "Up In Smoke" sort of effect from all the pot smoking that goes on in that city.

Of course, from what I've heard, they don't even compare to places like Boulder, Colorado. Not that I would know personally from experience, mind you. I have never been too Boulder.

And, no, it's not that I was so high that I couldn't remember it, neither.

But I know some hippies and hippie types... and they tell me that it's a very chill community. Denver too. They often joke about the whole "Mile High" thing. Go figure.

Anyways, another misguided belief is that 4.20 refers to the number of different compounds or the number of different carcinogens to be found in marijuana smoke. Again, this is not true. Even given the different blends and "brands" of pot out there, one can immediately see that it would be impossible to simply put 420 out there as the absolute number of chemicals in weed.

What may be closest to true has to do with a code used by buddies at some California school on where and/or when to meet to go get high... Pretty lame, yeah? But at the very least, assuming this is the truth, it does retain the whole 4.20 = let's go get high fact in all of the rumored meanings... which is good. Every good lie holds a nice kernel of truth in it to make it an easy to swallow pill.

But it's funny how the truth gets right out of the way of a good story, isn't it?

Kinda makes me wonder what people 50 years from now will think 4.20 stands for then.


Well, maybe some of us will still be around - if so, well... remember us from way back when, when we were already wrong...
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"That" Guy .... is BACK

That's Right. I'm BACK!!

THAT Guy. This past week, I was THAT Guy. You know THAT Guy? He's the guy that goes to a rock concert and wears a t-shirt for the band he is going to see. That's THAT Guy. He gets looked at by all the other fans there... and the conversations go a bit like this:

Scene - A fictional show of the band... let's just say Government Cheese, mmkay? (yes, shameless self-promoting runs in the family, methinks)
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guy 1 - "lookit that guy. He's wearing a Cheese shirt. What a 'tard!"
guy 2 - "Yeah. Like, dude... we're AT a Cheese show. You're here, therefore you like the Cheese, right? Durf"
guy 1 - "Like... DUH! Hell, he's probably a poser! Gotta act like the big GuvCheese fan so he can be cool."
guy 2 - "What a turdbreath."
guy 1 - "I bet he brushes his teeth before he goes to the dentist."
guy 2 - "Yeah, I bet he's the type that has his own band fan page."
guy 1 - "I bet he ate paste."
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And this weekend, I was THAT Guy....

Only it wasn't at a rock concert. Nope. No, I went with S*** to watch a young man, her younger brother, graduate as a Marine down at Parris Island. I bought me a red Marine "fan" t-shirt with a humorous "oorah" type message on the back. I didn't wear it then, though - I had THAT much decency before falling prey to the urge to be THAT Guy.

But after the graduation ceremony, I drove S*** and I up to Camp Lejeuene to go and try to see her two sons. These are the ones I wrote about previously - they had graduated in December and one had just finished training in Fort Lost-in-the-Woods, Misery ( aka Fort Leonardwood, Missouri) and had just gotten transferred to be stationed there at Camp Lejeuene. The younger of her 2 Marine sons was still in training at Camp Giger, which is attached to Lejeuene... quite literally.

So after a long drive to Jacksonville, NC from Parris Island, SC - and let me tell you, it is definitely like unto going around your elbow to get to your asshole - there is NO convenient or quick way to get there - anyway, after the 'short' long drive, we took her eldest son around town a bit then went to the base so he could check out their Marine Exchange Mall. I got dressed with that Marine shirt I had purchased, if only cause the purple shirt I had was definitely for comfort only and not entirely presentable in public.

Now I know how THAT Guy at concerts feels. Every Marine and every OTHER person there was staring at me like I was from Dorkville, USA. My exceptionally long hair certainly didn't help, I am sure... but it was that shirt that got me noticed in the THAT Guy way.

Ahh, now I feel bad for all those THAT Guys the world over... my apologies...

or maybe I really was just a dork for a day...
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Tuesdays Gone... With the Wind...

But not me. Nope. I'm still here, in town, at work. Sometimes it's nice to feel needed, you know? But sometimes you just wanna be able to get the hell outta Dodge and not care one whit about what happens back in the hometown, back at the office...

Ah well, guess I really can't complain.... well, yes I can. I do have some talent for that, apparently, but I just don't have the same conviction about this non-rant that I do for other things... like what you name a child.

Now, just the other day, a friend of mine told me a number of different names they had in mind for their baby to be. This led to a discussion of all sorts of horrible names to avoid... yes, I have an opinion on everything and here are a few more:

• Skyler - this is not a good name for a boy... being that it is generally a girl's name
• Richard - too easy, know what I mean?
• Lemonjello and Orangello - supposedly, a "woman from the inner city" got these names from that tasty product (made from hoof) that Bill Cosby promo'd.
• Eugene, Milo, Elmer - some names died out... for a good reason
• Miles - only acceptable if your last name is "Long" . So Shelley Long could have a child name Miles... he could then work in the porn industry without changing his name.
• Elliot - "Elliott? We're not going to name the kid Elliott. No. Elliott's a fat kid with glasses who eats paste. What he needs is a real name. A name! ..."
  

The conversation then took a turn to names that kids make fun of... which led to names that adults either make fun of or immediately notice. Laronron, Ladisha, Tiniqua, Skimikma, Anfernee, Mikal, etc - any of the thousands of obvious "ghetto" names. And not because they are bad, but it will literally screw you when you go to try and get a job. It's hard enough to get a job as it is, and your name is the first thing that says anything at all about you - first impressions are key here and a name that is ghetto will simply hurt you in getting a job.

This is not my opinion on the names - it's just the result of a study or opinion poll that was conducted by others.

With all this in mind, here are some names that roll right by as good, solid names:

• John - although the kids love this one when they find out what you can call a toilet
• Mike
• Vincent - Vinny is a tough name. Who's gonna mess with someone who is likely to have 'family' in the 'garbage business'
• Nick - Nick is your buddy and I quote : "Elliott? We're not going to name the kid Elliott. No. Elliott's a fat kid with glasses who eats paste. What he needs is a real name. A name! Like Nick. Nick's your buddy. Nick's the guy you can go out and drink a beer with, and he doesn't mind if you puke in his car. Nick."

Or maybe I'm just not as cool or as smart as I think I am...

My name isn't Nick. Maybe THAT's my problem...

But I have a nephew named Nick...
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Me Me Monday #74

74. I've written somewhere in the nieghborhood of 100 songs' worth of lyrics

Yep. Well over a hundred now. Funny thing is, the more I write, the better I think I am getting. I suppose it is only natural - practicing at something makes you better at it, even with things of a creative nature. Or maybe my taste in music is just getting worse....

Seriously, though, I have written at least a few songs which I feel would be commercially viable in today's market. Of course, this does not mean I think they're good songs, just that they are marketable.

How do I "know" that I am getting better at writing songs? Well, it takes a lot less inspirado now than it used to. Which is good, because, as we should all know, you can't manufacture inspirado.

And I don't have to be in a particularly foul mood just to write anything sad... I don't have to be shit-eating-grin-having happy to write a happy song.... and, in fact, I doubt I would write a happy song. They usually sound WAAAY too sappy to satisfy me.

I think it's easier to write and angry or sad or depressed song than it is to write a good happy song that doesn't sound like you've been sucking down Sweet & Low's and Equal's and Splenda's while having a sugar cane anal thermometer punched up your rectum and a corn syrup IV.... It is hard to write a happy song that isn't too... well... happy. Now, pissed off music? That's easy. You can never really sound TOO pissed off in rock, now can you?

But a good happy tune? Pffthfhthfht. That's tough.

For me, anyways, it is. Maybe I think myself too "macho" to do it well... Maybe I am too morose deep within... maybe overly happy people just annoy me so I can't write about it. I don't know. Could be ANY of those things, really.

You know what I mean about the overly happy people. I mean, yeah, their lives are always so picture perfect... kinda makes you regret all the tiny little crappy things you've done by way of comparison sometimes, doesn't it? Bah.

Or maybe I'm just a grump.

Or it could be Monday.

Yeah, that's my excuse for today - it's f*()*$#@king Monday.

Warning - I will be out of town after Tuesday and might not be able to blog more until next week - but I will catch you ALL up, especially about my upcoming show at JP's this coming Thursday.

Any and all in South Carolina, near Parris Island, Hilton Head, Beaufort(?) - come out to JP's THursday night to check out some of the weird and wonderful of Wop of Government Cheese... I'll do my best to make you have a good time.

Help me help you help me by coming on out!!

Peace!

Yawn

I . am . tired .

Period.

Worked till the end of the workday. Went home, loaded up, and went to the gig at the Bleu Bistro. Played from 8:50pm till, oh, 1am. Flirted and schmoozed and chit-chatted. Played designated driver. Came to work. Work work work.

Did I mention that part about being tired?

I need a direct coffee IV. Stat.

What the hell does STAT mean, anyway? Is that a latin abbreviation? What is it with the medical profession and latin? Why do they use latin terms for everything? What up with that? And, just in case you are unsure, I'm talking about the latin the ROMANS spoke waaaaay back in the day of their "big ole EMPIRE". I'm not talking about what the vatos and the SA's down in East LA speak... that's spanish, dude. And before you go there for me going there - Hey, Cheech wrote that song and did that movie - Born in East LA , so... before you go all "you're being racist" on me, just remember that, si?

Besides, I LOVE latinos. Some of my best friends are... okay, I won't finish that sentence...

Anyway.... you know, it doesn't give me much faith when doctors use a DEAD LANGUAGE when speaking medicine at me. How about they use a LIVING language instead? Hmm?

(Seriously, some people think that latinos or people from Latin Americans speak latin. Durf.)

But not French. Nope. French spoken badly sounds like someone having a seizure with a gerbil stuck up their butt and a snail lodged in their windpipe. It sounds like someone choking.

That wouldn't inspire confidence in most patients, I can tell you that much.

Maybe that's just me. Maybe I'm wrong here

It has happened once or twice... ;)
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HNT = Hands N Turkeys

Hands in turkey formation, Wop celebrates his recent birthday and a fine, fine birthday gift - a new Virginia Tech polo shirt. (you can just barely see it in the background)

For those not in the know, the mascot for the Virginia Tech Hokies is the Fighting Gobbler... a turkey... yeah, a fearsome beast, the turkey. Capable of staring up at the sky in the rain and drowning itself from sheer stupidity. Of course, they CLAIM that the word HOKIE started out as just a word to rhyme with in a cheer. Other sources, supposedly in the know, say that a Hokie is a turkey that has been outfitted with razors that was used in cockfighting... they'll also say they were castrated in the process.

I'm not so sure I'd want my mascot to be a castrated turkey, either....

Of course, none of these turkeys is to be confused with Wild Turkey, that bourbon of bourbons... it comes in both the mild 80 proof version, as well as the Kickin' Chicken version at 101 proof. I remember many a party I've started with the Kickin' Chicken... indeed...

Notice that I said, I remembered STARTING them...

Not so clear on the ending parts... ahh the days of youth, so nice and blessfully blurry - morning afters are really NOT all they're cracked up to be sometimes, after all.

For more HNT happiness and info, you must go see Osbasso. He is the man with the answers - and a TON of HNT happy links.

What I know about the nature of women:
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( HINT: look on the wall in the back of the pic. )
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Okay, so my other title would have been "What to write about when you really have nothing to say... OR, at least nothing you CAN say without getting into trouble"... but that title was too long. This one says much the same thing.

But, as I searched the web for some appropriate or funny picture for the post, I came across a most fascinating website .... (google simply does rule, by the way). It is the home for the NATIONAL AMATEUR DODGEBALL ASSOCIATION.

No, I shitteth thee not.

Click on the link, if you don't believe me. I ain't skeered.

But be forewarned... it's gruesome...
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HAPPY
BERFDAY
TO
ME
!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yep... another year older. Not one whit wiser. You would think I would know by now to keep my mouth shut, right? I mean, after all these years.

But NOOOOOOOO!! I have to go and tell people and remind them that today is my birthday, right?


So what do I see when I come in to the office?

Signs.

Everywhere.

With large numbers on them.

With my age on them.

in BIG. BOLD. NUMBERS.

On the front door. Along the hallway. On the men's room door. On the ladies room door - I suppose in case I am so old that I forget which one I am SUPPOSED to use? On the hallway to my cube. All over my cube. On my monitors. On the keyboard. On my desk chair.

Oh, poor Robert Redford is crying over the trees used in celebrating my berfday....

Very nice. Thanks go to S* and P*, I'm sure.

Of course, now I have to waddle around the office all day and listen to "old man" jokes - you know the kind:

• they'll yell to you to "make sure you can hear them"
• they'll ask if you need any help with the restroom - "did you wear your Depends today?"
• Naturally there will be some emails concerning Viagra, just to make sure I didn't lose that "oomph" in my life
• And they'll ask me about my age as in the number of digits instead of years - have you rolled over yet?

Ahh, I just "LOVE" my coworkers.

Here's how I'm feeling about it all right now:

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Me Me Monday #29

29. I wasn't a member of the Kiss Army as a child

So sue me. Ever been with a group of friends who all dig on some new fad or musical group... to the point of being nauseating? Ever want to just smack them on the head and say, "Shut up already!!" ? Sometimes, you really want to belong, but if you're too far behind the game, then playing catch up can be really hard to do.

I suppose it was a bit that way with me and KISS.. and 'rasslin'... All my buddies in Hawaii all LOVED KISS. Card-carrying members of the KISS Army all. Me? I didn't even know who the hell they were, to be quite honest. I was pretty sheltered at that age in a lot of ways. 'Rasslin was almost as popular with my friends as it apparently is around these Southeastern parts. Ricky Steamboat. The Nature Boy, Ric Flair... oh yeah, my buddies loved that crap. Me? I guess I was too busy watching Japanese anime' to care... as for KISS...

I'll never forget how excited they were when "the Kiss MOVIE" was announced - KISS as superheroes. What more could you ask for as a near-teen boy?? I mean, they were ROCK GODS and they already had the outfits and makeup and whatnot, right? (And according to some, Gene Simmons did indeed have superhuman powers... all related to that 47-inch tongue of his... go figure)

Me? I decided to watch it just to see if I could figure out what the whole KISS deal was... and all I can say about that made-for-TV (with all the cheesiest of special effects) movie? CRAP. It was C.R.A.P. No, wait, it was KRAP with a K !! I could barely get through watching 10 minutes of that hideous hunk of shite.

So I simply tuned out from KISS. I never enlisted in the KISS Army. Nope. Of course, it wasn't long till the overfascination with KISS changed to something else, for which I was greatly pleased, at the time. I guess that's just the way it goes with kids, eh?

Now, of course, years later I go and listen to KISS and I have come to find a true appreciation of the very CHEESE they put out. They really could put on a show and they really did target their audience well. Perhaps it was the movie - Detroit, Rock City - that settled that old score for me. I can believe it now. I can believe in the KISS Army.

Back then? I was just a day late and a dollar short...