3.15.06

Category: dribblings

last night was, as the liz has put it, Bowling With the Lutherans. since my knee is wonky i sort of hobbled to the edge and rolled it. my scores were 116 and 102.
don’t it just figure? anyway, who knew that slow rolling knock down as many pins? but i do wish i could get the cross-alley bowling down. i hate having pins left on the edges. i screw it up especially if they are on the right edge ‘cos i have a “natural” curve to the left. meaning: i have no idea why the ball always hooks a bit to the left.
i’m sure other people know why it does that, but so far no one has been able to explain it to me in Art English.

you know what would be good right now? donuts.

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3.13.06

Category: dribblings

well, i’m officially old. or, more likely, just a fat ass.
i’ve farked my knee somehow. i think (ashamedly) it started with bowling. it’s gotten more sore over the past three months. and on thursday? as i was climbing up a ladder? like i do most every weekday? something happened.
it felt like my knee cracked in two.
so now i’m hobbled.
and humbled?
shut up.

i made a doctor’s appointment this morning. they can see me thursday. sheesh, by then i’ll be able to walk on it again, so what’s the point?
shut up. i’ll go. really. 

we saw Failure to Launch the other day. it was better than i thought it would be.

stupid fat ass weak knee douchebag. piss.

Sugarless Lent is going okay. i was at the grocery store last night and these snickers bars were all, “hey baby, you look like you could use a friend right about now. you here alone?”
and i said, “i’m not allowed to talk to strange candy.”
but they were persistent, “c’mon baby, buy one. no one will know. your friends aren’t here. you’re going home and it’s not like the dogs are gonna know you cheated.”
“what the- how do you know that i have dogs?”
“oh uh, hey c’mon baby, it was a lucky guess that’s all.”
“i don’t think so. are you stalking me?”
“baby please, talk about ego. like we’ve got time for driving all the way downtown to spy-”
“hey! how did you know- if i see you around my house i’ll, i’ll, i’ll sic the dogs on you!”
“oh baby, you know chocolate isn’t good for dogs.”
“fine! i’ll take care of the problem RIGHT NOW!” and then i threw the candy bars on the floor and stomped them.
meh. in short: i’m craving chocolate like a rabid wolf craves…whateverthehell it is rabid wolves crave.

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3.09.06

Category: dribblings

so i work at the Holy House yesterday, right?
and i’m painting a hallway, m’kay?
and in one of the rooms, this guy, he’s got some kind of casio keyboard, with me?

so at first he’s kinda pecking around on the keys, and he sucks, but that’s okay, i mean, i can’t play or anything. but after a few minutes of this…this sucking of the playing…he hits the demo button or whatever, and this midi version of “Down By the Riverside” starts playing.
i’m all, “hey! this guy is a phony! a big fat phony!” hee. there’s a Family Guy quote for everything.

but this song…oy, it’s really annoying. and it’s only about 45 seconds long. so i’ve got that going for me, right?
wrong! haven’t you learned anything yet?

that craptastic song loops for the next 3 hours.
i’m not even exaggerating. i finally get dad up there to hear it.
“how long has this been playing?”
“wait, here’s the big finish…i’ve got it choreographed watch.” i dance some steps, “tada!”
“that thing must be turned up to 11.”
“ya think he’s dead? or just really enjoying that song?”
“three hours?”
“that’s been playing since i got here…3 hours ago.”
well, let’s go check and see if he’s dead.”

he was not dead. he was sleeping. i don’t know how, because when we opened that door the music…was so loud…that it physically came out of the door and pushed us down. it was a force.
apparently the guy likes that song so he cranked it to ‘max’ and laid down to sleep.

i love old people.

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3.08.06

Category: dribblings

OMGWTFDIE! barry bonds used steroids? are you sure?

To: everyone with working eyes
RE: Barry Bonds used steroids…really?

uh duh! have you seen what he looks like? he didn’t look like that 6 years ago. in 2000 he was 35 and hit 49 homeruns. in 2001 he was 36 and hit 73 homeruns. that’s a 24 HR difference. now, that’s not impossible to do without performance enhancing drugs, right? however, in his whole professional career (which started in ’86) he never had a HR difference over 15. in fact, the last time there was such a gap was in ’89 – ’90 (and then it was just 14.)
now, he didn’t have a giant increase in the number of total hits in any year, which kinda shows (i would think) that he had more power in that year which led to more balls being hit over the wall.
i mean, c’mon, it doesn’t take a brainiac to kinda see the point. plus: look at him.

love,
jaimie

Dear Barry Bonds,

Are you serious? You’re telling me that you didn’t know you were taking steroids? You actually want people to belive that?
DON’T PISS ON ME AND TELL ME IT’S RAINING, MISTER.

Love,
Jaimie

stats were stolen from wikipedia.

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The One About Family Game Night

Category: weekleez

The One About My Family Puts the F. U. in Dysfunctional
March 07, 2006
this weekly is rated ‘R’ due to gratuitous cursing. if you are easily offended don’t read this ‘cos i don’t want to hear it.

hi kids,

mr. fleegan and i often play cards at my parents’ house on the weekends. usually the players are: mom, dad, best, flippy, mr. fleegan, and i. we play a game called shanghai and one called five crowns. it’s a dollar a game and the loser gets their dollar back and the winner gets the rest. we always have lots of fun, and you can be sure to hear insults, shouts, and many, many, swear words.

flippy is the screamer. she screams.
occassionally, she hits.

mr. fleegan is the hoover. he steals all the good cards before you can get to them.

mom is just mom. (i can’t say anything bad about mom. she reads these things.) she spills the drinks. oh, and she does this annoying thing: when she’s the first person to lay down her cards she says, “oh, is no one else going to play with me?” and it drives me crazy.

dad is the crackbaby. (don’t worry, he can’t read) he is dubbed this because he can never remember what hand we are on and because he tends to collect the wrong things (“i thought we were collecting three threes!” “no dad, we’re on two fours.” “FUCK!”). also: he hates being called the crackbaby.

best is the winner. she usually wins.
we hate her. she sits there and quietly wins while taking screaming/physical abuse from flippy.

and me? i’m the one with tourette’s. i swear a lot.
a lot.

so there’s the setting: a smoky kitchen table full of adults yelling insults and playing cards.

last night we were playing and the TV was turned on. usually we just listen to music (dad and i control the jukebox), but last night the TV was on and a preview for a show called I Shouldn’t Be Alive came on. And it appears to be a show about people who are in dangerous death situations who end up cheating Death. Anyway, stupid premise, but it led to the theme of our card playing conversation:

me: I Shouldn’t Be Alive? please. we should have our own TV show. talk about reality tv.

dad: i’d watch it.

mom: what would we call it?

me: how about Shut the Fuck Up?

dad and best: ha!

me: ‘cos that would be like, our running gag or something. since all we do is make fun of each other. it would be fun.

mom: …

dad: heh, *mob accent* shut the fuck up.

me: oh wait, mom. i didn’t mean it to sound all sarcastic when you asked that. i realize it just sounded like you asked a question and i answered with “shut the fuck up”.

mom: oh sure.

me: no really! i was just sayin’ that would be the name of-

mom: uh huh, right.

me: honest! i just thought that-

mom: jaimie?

me: yeah?

mom: shut the fuck up.

****

me *draws a crappy card from the deck*: shit piss fuck!

mom: you know, maybe you should try giving up cussing for Lent instead of sugar.

me: oh, ha.

best: it’s too fuckin’ hard.

me: hee. i tried to years ago, but it never helps. besides, i like swear words.

dad: i just don’t know where she picked up those kinds of words.

mom: oh right.

me: sunday school.

dad: hee, church!

mom: more like from painting with her father.

dad: hey, why don’t you shut the fuck up?

****

me: for crying out loud! who’s turn is it, mom?

mom: oh, shut the fuck up, jaimie.

****

dad had had a few tasty beverages and was on a roll talking about…history?

dad: did you know that the romans were anti-gambling? can you believe that shit? a bunch of buttfucking pedophiles have the nerve to call gambling a vice?

mom: and you wonder where she gets it from?

me: *drawing a card* shit piss fuck. when was this?

dad: the romans…back in caesar’s day. they thought gambling was wrong.

best: which caesar? they were all caesars.

dad: what? fucking caesar. the caesar. et tu, brute?

me: julius caesar.

dad: yeah, even back then, during julius caesar’s reign…

best: they named all those orange juice stands after him.

dad: …they considered gambling a vice.

me: thanks for the lesson, encyclopedia brown.

dad: shut the fuck up. who’s turn is it?

everyone: yours!

best: if you’d shut the fuck up you’d know that!

****

best: maybe you could try giving up being an asshole for Lent?

me: shut the fuck up.

best: hee.

me: wow, i think it would be harder to give up being an asshole than it would to give up swearing.

mom: for you? yes.

me: oh, shut the fuck up.

****

at some point, the word nigger came in to play. we weren’t talking about black people, but just the word. in fact, i think maybe mr. fleegan had said it. shock!

me: we don’t use that word here. you know that. we don’t say that word around mom. (click the swearing link)

dad: oh for crying… remember when CNN started calling it the ‘N’ word? how asinine.

mom: well, it’s not a good word.

mr. fleegan: nyahlgah.

dad: i mean, here’s a word, a bad one but still, a word that’s been around for hundreds of years and now? just now…we’re supposed to pretend that no one says it? nigga please.

me: hey, we don’t use that word around mom, that’s not a mom word. you know this.

dad: do they really expect people to not say it? i think…i think the Boondocks guy thinks the same thing. they say it a lot on that show…gah, the ‘n’ word. they can’t be serious! i mean-

mom: *sigh* pat?

dad: huh?

mom: shut the fuck up.

there are several things that you should have noticed throughout this whole card game:
1. my family rocks.

2. my mom always has the best lines.

3. we should have our own TV show.

next epitomb: shut the fuck up.

jaimie “shit piss fuck” pickle
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3.05.06

Category: dribblings

yesterday was Saturday, and it turned into the busiest day of the week. first, i woke up at 4:30am to take Miss June to dialysis*. then i came home and went to bed. later that morning Popsicle called and he came over and picked me up and we went to the biggest estate sale in the world. there were at least, AT LEAST 250 people crammed into that house. it was madness. people everywhere, shoulders bumping, asses sliding over asses…it was horrible. we didn’t buy anything, but only ‘cos when we were through and was able to make our way to the front of the house to pay for our stuff…there was a huge line and it wasn’t moving. and i’m sorry, i don’t wait in huge lines to buy a $2.00 ashtray. keep it.

then we went to the Holy House and did some odds and ends.
then we went to Lowe’s. if you’re not mentally ill before you go there you’re mentally ill when you leave. it’s all, “you can check out anytime you like, but you can never leave.” at Lowe’s. everytime we use the HCH’s card there we have to tell them that it’s tax exempt. and everytime they charge us sales tax. every. fucking. time. EVEN THOUGH we JUST TOLD THE STUPID FUCKING WHORE that there’s NO TAX. so then we have to take our reciept to the customer service. then they have to act like we just returned EVERY FUCKING THING WE BOUGHT, and then they have to ring us up again, only THIS TIME not charge us the tax. and this happens…EVERY. FUCKING. TIME. i would continue to rant and rave about this but the thing is, i know you’ve been to Lowe’s, so you know what i’m talking about. there’s no reason to beat a dead horse. and Lowe’s? is a dead horse.
i bought $40 worth of pond equipment. a new pump and a small piece of shitty plastic that makes a fountain.

then dad and i went back to the HCH to try to fix something else (keys), which is why we went to bLowe’s in the first place. (ha. bLowe’s. i kill me.)

then we went to mom and dad’s house to find some more pond stuff (tubing, sump pump) and then we went to lunch.
after lunch we went and picked up their dog, Dude, who was at the vet’s getting shots, a bath, a hair cut, and whatever else.

then we went back to my house and pumped out my GD fish pond. scrubbed it (ew! i was grosscovered in actual pond scum.) put in new water and my new fountain thingie. so now the water moves and isn’t just a stagnant mess.
the fun part was catching all the goldfish.
ah, the GD goldfish. i may have fed them 4 times in the last 5 months. and those damn things are still alive. and, and, AND? they’re huge. unkillable.

for supper mr. fleegan and i ate at mom and dad’s. we had chili dogz. then we played cards. because we’re old people.
what a day.

* i don’t think i’ve mentioned Miss Junebug before. she’s a side job i’ve picked up. fellykish and i tagteam taking her to dialysis 3 days a week. she’s the sweetest old lady in the world. she is always smiling. always.
even after dialysis she’s all smiles. also, she’s very tiny. you just want to put her in your pocket and take her out when you need a smile.

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3.01.06

Category: dribblings

i had a dream last night about killer bees. there was a hive in my yard. as a house painter i hate all winged, stinging insects and their hives/nests.

and, i have killer bee-ophobia.

dear God,

please. please! do NOT let the killer bees get here. make gadsden safe from the killer bees. oh it’s creeping me out just thinking about it.
i know that it’s our own fault that killer bees exist. i know that when man tries to play god man gets punished by things like killer bees, the plague, rats with human ears growing on their backs, polluted air and water, iPods, the AIDS, high gas prices, an idiot of a president, computer viruses, banks that close on wednesdays, blockbuster video, the olympics, all of televison, the internet, the gay-loving liberal media, banjo music/bagpipes, the holocaust, the art of thomas kincade, acid rain, france, italy, the whole “is pluto a planet or one of neptune’s moons” thing, scientology, that “Honky Tonk Badonkadonk” song, and nuclear/atomic weapons. i mean, someone lied to Oprah and NEARLY GOT AWAY WITH IT. these things are all our faults. we are the ones to blame for the horrible evil sins of the world. these are the things that happen when we try to play god.
i kind of lost track of what i was talking about.
after re-reading the list i just made, i realize that we often punish ourselves. wow. anyway, thank you for Jesus. thank you for forgiveness, thank you for loving me, and please…no killer bees.
amen.

my bowling scores last night were: 90, 75, 113.
why am i still sucking the bowling ass? i’ve bowled once a week for 6 months. should not there be improvement?! I TAUGHT MYSELF HOW TO JUGGLE! I CAN JUGGLE BALLS, CLUBS, AND RINGS! WHY CAN’T I ROLL A BALL DOWN A LANE? WHY CAN’T I KNOCK THE PINS DOWN?! WHY AREN’T MY SCORES IMPROVING?! why am i actually caring about this?

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2.28.06

Category: dribblings

happy Fat Tuesday, sinners.
once again i’ll be giving up sugar for lent. it’s a crazy idea, but it just might work.

for the first time that i can remember i drank juice straight from the carton yesterday. it was amazing. juice-gasmic. honestly, drinking it directly from the carton…the juice tasted so good. better than it’s ever tasted before. (i don’t like juice, but i drink it when i’m sick.) of course, it could have tasted so good because my nose isn’t as stopped up and so maybe i have my sense of taste back.
i hate juice. mostly ‘cos when i drink it, i have to drink it all. and it ends up eating the inside of my mouth away. like right now, the roof of my mouth has disintegrated. i’m an idiot. but it’s true. the other day i bought some juice and took it to liz’z house and we chatted for a bit and i drank more than half of the carton while i was there. i gave myself a stomach ache doing that.
it’s not the first time.
i’m just bad at juice.

i had a dream last night and in the dream i was at a restaurant/department store. while trying to buy some shoes i went to the counter and ordered a margarita milkshake. it was really thick like a Wendy’s Frosty.
guys, we HAVE to figure out how to make those.

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2.26.06

Category: dribblings


hi. feeling better, thanks. now i’ve just got the crupey cough that lasts for weeks. and, while the cough does keep me up at night (only between shots of NyQuil) i can dig it more than the sinus disaster i had the last couple of days.
oh, and PS: Mucinex.
if you take Mucinex you will feel better, but not before you become the most disgusting mutant slug of all time. i lost six pounds one morning. it was all snot.
i know.
i know.so while sick i finished a couple of books.

 

fiddy . lookout fellykish!mr. fleegan (nonblogger!) and i rented The Man and The Aristocrats.

The Man was funny-cute-predictable.
The Aristocrats was funny-gross-badwords. but there’s one part where Mario Cantone does his version of the joke as Liza Minnelli, and it’s BRILLIANT. he is so talented.2.22.06
Date Movie was stupid but had some funny sight gags.

i’m sick and my lungs are on fire. FIRE!
FIIIIIYAAH!

i am the god of hellfire and i bring you…fiyah!

anyway, sick. my skin hurts. my bones ache. my brain? it’s turned to goo and is leaking out my left nostril.
so go away; i’m miserable.
oh, could you toss me the kleenex on your way out?

 

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2.21.06

Category: dribblings

oh shut up, ozzie guillen. maybe if it were 1992 people would care. no no, i understand you coach the chisox now and you guys won the world series last year. that’s great. but no one cares. because you played houston. and no one cares about them either. well, except maybe a few people who live in houston. but most of them are bandwagon jumpers.

i’m not too excited about this WBC thing, even with all the hype that’s being put on it. i’m not saying it’s a bad thing or a stupid thing or anything like that, i’m just saying i’m not excited about it. so they take a bunch of players from all the teams and they make new teams and the new teams play? it’s called the all-star game.
i think that maybe i’m not into it because i really hate the olympics, and this is just olympic baseball. yes, it is.

in other news no one cares about:
i think i’m getting the cold that everyone’s had. mom’s had it for a few weeks now, and most of the kids on the TN trip had it so it was inevitable. i’ve got a scratchy throat and my ears itch and i woke with a right nostril filled with crusty old blood.
awesome. i was all, “what’s in my nose? holy crap. nostril cancer. the hell?”

last nights bowling scores: 115, 76. pretty sorry second game (pretty sorry first game too, hee. but for me? it was a good roll). several gutter ballz and a totally wasted spare.

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