Sunday, May 31, 2009

I'm working on erasing you I just don't have the proper tools

Did you come here to be depressed today? If so, you're in luck! Check this song out. (As usual, ther's a YouTube clip at the bottom if you want to listen as you read along.)

Frightened Rabbit - My Backwards Walk
I'm working on my backwards walk
Walking with no shoes or socks
And the time rewinds to the end of May
I wish we'd never met then met today

I'm working on my faults and cracks
Filling in the blanks and gaps
And when I write them out they don't make sense
I need you to pencil in the rest

I'm working on drawing a straight line
And I'll draw until I get one right
It's bold and dark girl can't you see
I've done drawn a line between you and me

I'm working on erasing you
I just don't have the proper tools
I get hammered forget that you exist
There's no way I'm forgetting this

I'm working hard on walking out
Shoes keep sticking to the ground
My clothes won't let me close the door
These trousers seem to love your floor

I've been working on my backwards walk
There's nowhere else for me to go
Except back to you just one last time
Say yes before I change my mind

Say yes before I
You're the shit and I'm knee deep in it
You're the shit and I'm knee deep in it girl
You're the shit and I'm knee deep in it
You're the shit and I'm knee deep in it girl

You're the shit and I'm knee deep in it
You're the shit and I'm knee deep in it girl
You're the shit and I'm knee deep in it
You're the shit and I'm knee deep in it girl

Well? Did it do the trick? It seems to have worked for me.

Saturday, May 30, 2009

The story I heard is the people are bored

Last weekend I was able to see Flieswithoutwings and his family for a couple of hours before making the drive back home on Monday. He told me that his oldest son, who is about to turn nine (I think) asked for a shotgun for his birthday.

He told his son that you have to be big and strong to be able to fire a shotgun.

His son thought about that for a second and said that they could just get him a sniper rifle instead.

It seems that someone's been playing Halo.

Thursday, May 28, 2009

I am an American aquarium drinker, I assassin down the avenue

Me: I can't believe you're going to be a teenager within a week.

Togers: I know.

Me: You realize I have to kill you within the next few days, right? I can't be having teenagers.

Togers: Um, you've already got one: Tortellini.

Me: I know. I'm working on that too.

Togers: ???

Me: I've hired a hitman.

Togers: Well he must not be a very good one considering that she just turned fifteen.

Me: I know. He's not. I'm thinking of asking for my deposit back.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Let's go for a ride

I told you a little bit about the drive, now it's time to show you a glimpse at the rest of my Memorial Day weekend.

There was plenty of rain:

That meant time indoors, talking on the phone and playing checkers:

There was a lot of quality time spent with Domo:

Quality time spent with a lizard:

And quality time with two of my nieces, one of whom thinks she's a kitty cat:

And one who refuses to crawl:

But gets around just fine doing a little butt scoot:

There was even a brief stop at my birthplace:

It was a pretty good weekend.

Monday, May 25, 2009

He scares me so, like I scare myself

We went on a road trip for Memorial Day weekend. I dropped the two oldest kids off with friends, and Mr M and I went to visit my sisters. It turns out that Mr M is an inquisitive little bugger when he's got me all to himself. Here's a sample of the ten billion questions he asked while we were driving:

"Dad, why do we need atmosphere?"

"Dad, what year did we get water on earth? Was it like 1944?"

"Dad, what would it feel like to jump through a cloud?"

"Dad, what would happen if lightning struck lava? Would both of them just get hotter?"

"Dad, what would happen if I jumped out of a car while it was moving really fast?"

"Dad, is there food in space?"

"Dad, how can you make snow turn into an avalanche?"

"Dad, how hard would it be to blow up the moon? Could you do it with an atomic bomb?"

"Dad, what would happen if that whole mountain fell down when we were right next to it? Would the trees fall too?"

"Dad, what if the sun went out? Could we just eat frozen ham from a dead pig to survive?"

"Dad, what would happen if you killed everyone but yourself?"

"Dad, what would happen if you cut off somebody's legs?"

"Dad, is Hitler part of God?"

As you can see, as the drive went on, I began to believe more and more that it might be time to start worrying about the kid.


It's worth mentioning that there were a few moments of silence that came when Mr M decided that he wanted to be like a dog and have some wind blowing in his face:

Sunday, May 24, 2009

'Cause that cartoon has got the boom anime babes that make me think the wrong thing

Mr M: Grandpa, could you, like, go turn on the TV so I can watch cartoons downstairs?

Grandpa: I don't know if your dad wants you to watch cartoons. Better go ask him.

Mr M: Dad, do you care if I watch cartoons?

Me: Go for it.

Grandpa (who apparently didn't want to go downstairs): Shit. Bastard.

Mr M: I am definitely not one of those.

Friday, May 22, 2009

Box full of letters - 6

To the 50 year old neighbor lady who always walks her dog in a neon green bikini:

Please stop doing that. You don't have the body for it anymore. That's if you ever did. Nobody needs to see that shit.

Native Minnow

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Your racist friend

Driving in my car with my friend from Texas:

Him: That's a nice house.

Me: I know you just said, "That's a nice house", but with your accent, it sounded like you said, "That's a nice ass."

Him: So?

Me: So we just passed that 13 year old girl who was riding her bike on the other side of the street, pedophile.

Him: I'm no pedophile, racist!

Me: Racist? How does that make me racist?

Him: You're anti-Texan.

Me: Pretty sure Texan isn't a race, dude.

Him: Neither is New Zealander. But that didn't stop that guy from refusing to give Bret and Jemaine their fruit*.

*Even though they did get it in the end.

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

The way the lazy do

Togers had his end of year band performance yesterday. He called me about an hour beforehand to tell me about it, so I didn't get to take any pictures, but least I made it.

The kids did a good job. It seems his school has a great music teacher*. It was incredible to see how much the kids have improved since their Christmas concert a few months ago. At the end of the performance, I thought about getting up from my seat to start a standing ovation, but then I thought about the effort that would require, and didn't.

I'm such a good dad!

*And he's not even gay or anything. Weird.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Turn on, tune in, drop out, give up with me

Another one of those songs that seems to have come along at just the right time for me. This time it's by Cracker, from their new album Sunrise In The Land Of Milk And Honey.

Come on, turn on, tune in with me
Baby you need a break so let's just run away
Well I'm tired of coding perl, tired of VBA
Maggie throw your lawbooks away
Turn on, tune in, drop out, give up with me

Now picture this

I'm shopping in town for our homemade Agrarian fortress
You're texting: Corian, granite or tile kitchenette in the gun nest?
Well we'll find a little meadow high up in the Cascades
Baby we won't ever come down
Turn on, tune in, drop out, give up with me

Turn on
Tune in
Drop out
With me
The whole thing's coming down so let's just get out of the way
Well I'm not paranoid there is no conspiracy
But I swear Big Brother's watching me
Turn on, tune in, drop out, give up with me

So you're serving apertifs to the local survivalist militia
In camouflage you're fine but the locals still call you Morticia
Well we'll find a little meadow high up in the Cascades
Baby we won't ever come down
Turn on, tune in, drop out, give up with me

Buy a little cabin in the Adirondacks
Baby they'll never find us
Turn on, tune in, drop out, give up with me

Hand stick out teepee
Windy east Mojave
Watching for black helicopters
Turn on, tune in, drop out, give up with me.

Saturday, May 16, 2009

At every occasion one brilliant day funeral

Friend: Want me to cheer you up by telling you the most horrible thing?

Me: Sure, I guess.

Friend: Ok, so you know [Friend of Hers] right?

Me: Yeah.

Friend: Well, his mom died last week.

Me: Yeah, I heard that.

Friend: So, today was the funeral, so he flew back home for that, and I called him today just to see how he was holding up. When he answered, he just sounded so sad, so I wanted to say something to try and get him to laugh. I can't believe I'm even telling you this. It's so horrible.

Me: Well you can't stop now.

Friend: Ok, so his mom wanted to be cremated for whatever reason, so when I was talking to him I asked, "So, how does your mom look?"

Me: That is like 10,000 times worse than the worst thing I've ever said to anybody.

Friend: I know! He's the only person in the world I would ever say that to, but it worked. It totally made him laugh. I might be going to Hell, but it was worth it for that.

Friday, May 15, 2009

The man in the mirror

My ex-wife texted me these yesterday:

It appears that someone has been busy taking profile pictures for myspace. I think someone forgot to tell him that most people comb their hair first.

Thursday, May 14, 2009

You call it poison but I call it rock and roll

Last week I went to a record store, and was excited to find an entire bin of used CDs that were on sale. As I thumbed through, I found two albums that I used to love in high school: INXS' live album Live Baby Live, and The Escape Club's album Dollars And Sex. I used to have both of these on cassette, but never replaced them once that technology became obsolete. I've looked a few times, but hadn't found them on disc until now. Of course I bought them both.

So, now that I've been listening to early '90s music, I figure I'll spread the disease. My favorite song from Dollars And Sex:

The Escape Club - I'll Be There

Watch more Dollars & Sex videos on AOL Video

This song started playing in my car when I was giving my ex-wife a ride* over the weekend.

She said, "I love this song!" and turned the volume up.

Then she said, "You know, I think you put this song on a mix tape you made for me when we were dating."

"I did?"

"I'm pretty sure you did. I'll have to look."

"You still have it?"

"Yeah. Somewhere."

"You're probably right. If you find it you'll have to let me know what other lame crap I put on there."

If you're lucky (?), she'll find it, and I can give you the playlist of what young Native Minnow considered to be romantic. It's bound to be ridiculous.

*Not that kind of ride, perv.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Red tape around my hands

Me: I need to get up and stretch my legs. I've been sitting at this desk for too long.

Friend: You can walk with me to my car if you want.

Me: You're not going to chloroform me and throw me in the trunk, are you?

Friend: Maybe.

Me: But only if I play my cards right?

Friend: Exactly!

Monday, May 11, 2009

But if I can't change your mind then no-one will

A few weeks ago I was having a particularly frustrating day with my kids. A friend of mine had offered to pick them up from school and take them to her place for the afternoon. However, she got in a bit of a panic when she showed up and had trouble finding them. It turns out that one of them had forgotten that she was going to pick them up, and started walking home after school instead of watching for her car. My friend ended up getting them all, but not for another half hour, after several phone calls back and forth with me to try to figure out where they might be.

Once I was off the phone for good, one of my co-workers sensed my frustration, and gave me an inquisitive look to find out what was going on.

Me: Seriously dude, don't ever have kids.

Him: Ok. Well I have to say, I can't guarantee that I'll never have a kid.

Me: True. But take every precaution you can. Just trust me on this.

Him: So I'm guessing you haven't heard the news that my wife is pregnant?

Me: Oh. Congratulations?

Sunday, May 10, 2009

I love a girl who's far away, headed home, and sleeping at the wheel

Friday night I watched a movie with Girl Who Won't Be My Girlfriend*.

She fell asleep during the movie, and it was difficult trying to wake her up afterward.

Me (after finally getting her to open her eyes): I think you should just stay here tonight. I don't want you driving home if you're this tired.

Her (mumbling): Ok.

So I scooped her up off the couch and carried her upstairs to my room. When I turned down the hallway I heard something bump against the wall.

Me: Sorry. I didn't mean to brush your arm on the corner like that.

Her: That was my head**.

Me: Oops. Sorry.

I apologized to her again the next morning. She didn't remember any of that happening. Perhaps I hit her head harder than I thought.

No wonder she doesn't want to be my girlfriend.

*Yes, I am a masochist.

**It was unintentional. I haven't resorted to trying to knock girls out so I can take advantage of them***.


Friday, May 08, 2009

God don't make lonely girls

Last Week

Girl: Any plans for the weekend?

Me: No. I'll probably just work. You?

Girl: I kept the weekend free so I could study, but my boyfriend's out of town with some friends, so if you change your mind and want to do something give me a call.

I told one of my friends about this exchange and she said, "That's the kind of girl who says that because she thinks you're safe, but secretly hopes that you're not."

I didn't call her. The last thing I need would be getting shot by a jealous boyfriend who came home early.

Wednesday, May 06, 2009

Foals in winter coats, white girls of the north

A couple of weeks ago, my Navajo friend emailed me to see what I'd been up to.

I sent a short response, and asked if he was doing anything fun for the weekend. He said he was going to Phoenix.

I asked if it was for work or for play.

He wrote back: "I’m going down for NASCAR. I’m gonna check me out some white women*!!!"

My response**: "You're the brownest redneck I know."

*He and I were close friends in high school, but lost contact for a number of years. A few years ago a friend of ours got married in Salt Lake City, and he and I both flew in for that. He walked up to me, looked around, and the first words out of his mouth were, "Where the white women at?" Keep in mind this is the first time we'd seen each other since high school. It's become a running joke, and now every time he calls it's the first thing he says.

**I should've added that he really doesn't want any part of a woman he'll find at a NASCAR race.

Monday, May 04, 2009

Tailored suits, chauffered cars, fine hotels, and big cigars, up for grabs, up for a price

Friend: So what's the deal with you and that Asian girl?

Me: What are you talking about?

Friend: I've seen the flirting. It seems to be going both ways.

Me: Nah. I don't make enough money to keep that girl happy.

Friend: Do you think she's a gold digger?

Me: I guarantee it.

Friend: How do you know that?

Me: She works as an image consultant.

Friend: I don't even know what that is.

Me: I didn't either, until I asked her. It's basically someone who helps rich people pick out expensive gifts for their wives or girlfriends.

Friend: So like a personal shopper?

Me: I guess. But expensive stuff. She told me she helps guys pick out diamond necklaces, or $4000 evening gowns. Stuff like that.

Friend: That's crazy.

Me: I told her that if there were men willing to spend that much on their women, that surely there would be women out there who are willing to spend that kind of money on their men, and that I needed to find one of those women.

Friend: What did she say to that?

Me: She said, "You're going to need to clean it up." I asked, "Clean what up?" She said, "All of it!"

Friend: You're right. You can't afford her.

Me: I told you!

Saturday, May 02, 2009

Because the beautiful were never meant to suffer

Last night I encountered PTSD girl again. She was out with one of her friends while I was out with one of mine. At one point, on the way back from the restroom, I stopped at their table to say hi and ended up talking to PTSD girl while her friend went to talk to my friend. When I went back to sit with him he relayed part of their conversation to me:

My Friend: Are you trying to set [Minnow] up with [PTSD girl]?

Her Friend: No. I already tried that once. I don't think he likes her.

My Friend: Well, she's really not his type of girl.

Her Friend: What is his type?

My Friend: Attractive.

There's nothing like a little brutal honesty to make sure the record is set straight.

Friday, May 01, 2009

Well it's been a good time trying to have a good time and for a time it seemed to be okay

I had dinner Tuesday night with the girl I took to the Travis concert. A few of my friends told me it was crucial that I make a move, or else I'd be relegated to friend status forever.

I didn't make a move*.

The next day I told my friend, "I didn't even try to kiss her goodnight. Now she probably thinks I'm gay."

He said, "I'm starting to think you are too. Maybe it's time to face facts."

*I blame the homeless** woman for coming up and begging for change right as I walked her to her car.

**Nothing ruins a moment quite like the homeless.