Little Miss Sunshine

I don't even know what to say here.

I'm still fucking laughing and the movie's been over for twenty minutes.

So, yeah. If you haven't seen Little Miss Sunshine yet go out and get it. Watch it. Make sure you pee first or you'll need to change your pants.

Stick it in the Slot

Someway back (can't have been too long ago, cuz my foot is still in this fucking GIANT BLACK VELCRO BOOT) I mentioned about a new washing machine.

As in many cases, the new washing machine did in fact replace an old washing machine.

I am back today to show you pictures of the old, quarter-eating, non-spinning washing machine.

Here you go:

There it is, sitting by the trash cans. Even before we moved it out there, the front was already kicked off of it. I'm kinda sad you can't see the sign taped to the front. "Do not put feet on washers," it said. I'm guessing people didn't listen or else the front wouldn't have banged around all the time like a wounded asshole.

Here is a bigger shot showing the fancy Computer Control Pad and the quarter slot.

If you open the lid (which required some prying) you can flip a button which lets you reprogram shit. I only ever figured out how to make it not take quarters. But it only stayed that way until the power went out, then I'd have to fix it again.

Pleas write soething else!

It has been brought to my attention that Pleas write soething else.

What are these Pleas? And how is a verb able to write?

As for "soething else..." I guess I can't be too surprised. What else do you suppose a poor little Plea, struggling with pen in hand, should manage to write?

So, I will now share this with you all. Please spread the word.

The Pleas are able to write "soething else."

I wonder what kind of paper they used...

How important is Snacko?

snacko serves snack soup

snack soup is wholesome goodness

snack soup is a good friend of mine

snack soup is very liberated

snack soup stands up to opression and tyranny

snack soup is the source of freedom in war-torn countries.

snack soup is the breath of life in a firey building

snack soup is a parachute when you find yourself ejected from a spacecraft

All's not quite so well.

I am on drugs. Currently it's Oxycodone which is secret generic slang for Percoset. Priorly it was Hydrocodone which is generic slang for Vicodin. Both are good.

You see, about four hours after we achieved our new washing machine, my right foot started hurting. To properly describe the sensation in my foot you would need to imagine what it would feel like if you dropped a washing machine on your foot.

HOWEVER.

I did not drop a washing machine on my foot. I'm sure of it. I don't recall doing any wrong whatsoever to my foot. But it's damn busted nevertheless.

Actually, it's not busted. I got x-rays. Here are x-rays:




The x-ray came back negative for breaks and positive for nothing wrong.

So they said maybe it was a STRESS FRACTURE. And I got sent for a BONE SCAN. I will have to post the bone scan pictures later because I didn't scan them yet - but trust me -- they are definitely worth posting because they are some strange shit.

And still they show nothing is broken.

But my foot hurts, so I get to take pain medicine for a week and then wear a dumb foot boot for two weeks.

I'm really glad we didn't spend the money for FREE DELIVERY of that new washing machine.

All's well.

We got a new washing machine.

Brand spankin' new. Our old one took quarters. This one doesn't. I could get the quarters out, or even set it to not take quarters but it still only had 6 buttons so you couldn't run just part of a cycle. And if the power went out (like it does here in the sticks) then it went back to requiring $0.75 to do a load.

Our old one didn't have any dents. This one does.

Our old one didn't have a whole front panel thus leaving the guts exposed. The new one has a front. Which is dented.

Brand new. In the box. Dented. Thanks, Home Depot.

The better part is that the right rear corner looks like sombody dropped it off of a fucking fork lift about two or three feet too soon. Thanks, Home Depot.

But it works, so who gives a shit.

It fills up with water. It is not anything at all near as noisy as I expected a $300 washer to be.

AND. It's one of the four top-rated in the ACTUALLY WASHES CLOTHES WELL cagegory of Consumer Reports. The other ones cost $599, $999, and $1099.

So that was an easy decision. I guess the $700 discount is automatically figured in when they slow down the truck and kick it out the back rather than actually stopping to deliver it to the store.

And now I feel slightly less worthless but I really wish my wife would stop asking me "So what's dinner going to be?" every two fucking seconds.

never gets finished

Last night I was revisited by an old feeling. It was one of those I really didn't miss having.

Last night was the first time in a very long time the thought crossed my mind that it would be easier to just fucking end it all.

It didn't come along full-formed with a plan, but it was there and it didn't go away for quite a while. Actually, it's still kinda hanging out in the back of my head almost like it pulled up a chair and decided to stay for awhile. I think it still has its coat on, tho, so maybe I can kick it out today.

Maybe I'll come back and edit this later to try to go through what brought about this feeling. It might be helpful to me to spill my thoughts out. Maybe not. Who knows?

Inspiration can strike anywhere

Burnt out signs may make for good album titles:

INTE TIONA
FURNITU

Holy oldshit, Batman!

D'ja ever notice how when a band plays a song sometimes (most times) it's faster than on the CD? This is the result of syncing the CD track to the faster live performance and using everything under the sun to disquise the fact that you only shot with one camera and you have to keep backing up a few frames to line up the lips.

Like it really matters.

It also benefits from fantastic video capture software and a fabulous 3rd generation VHS copy of the live show. And it benefits even more from the fact that Eyes Wide Shut was playing on the TV so every time I stopped the tape the computer kept capturing... um... other stuff.

And that's some squub guy on bass. For sure.

And you better know I bought that S.O.D. shirt from Billy Milano himself. He's a hell of a salesman.

"If a fat fuck like me can fit into an XL then a fat fuck like you won't have any problem at all."

How can you turn down a line like that? He got my $20. I got a shirt and had to cut off the sleves to fit my fat self into it.

Then later I got to see him sing about FUCK THE MIDDLE EAST.

But the biggest tragedy is that you can't see my pants.

They were made of cut-off pants.