Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Whistle while you...

Good morning.
Had a lovely weekend that continued to Monday. Yep. No work for me on Monday. A little "sick" but good overall...
There's this podcast I listen to. The Ricky Gervais show. He is easily recognizable as the man that created/starred in the BBC version of The Office. This podcast is record breaking. Listed in the Guiness Book of World Records as the most listened to/downloaded/whatever podcast. He's been doing a spin on the "just shooting the shit" podcast he usually does & is now making "The Ricky Gervais Guide To..." that focuses on several topics.
I was listening to The Ricky Gervais Guide to The Arts this morning coming in to work. In it he talks to one of his two co-stars on this thing Karl. Karl is a moron. Makes for good comedy though when you have someone to mercilessly insult, right? So, in getting to the point Ricky asks Karl how do you express yourself, art-wise?
Karl says..............
Whistling. Whistling?
Needless to say they laugh hysterically at Karl and he demonstrates it and all that...
Why is this important at all? Because it got me thinking... Do I go walk through life just kind of whistling? As a younger kid I'd write a shit ton of songs on my guitar. Put lyrics to those things. Put the "finished" product to cassette via my four track recorder. I mean, it's safe to say they were all probably steaming piles of shit but I was doing it, right?
I've recently picked up Joseph Heller's "Catch-22" and am reading that again. Man, it's amazing. Absolutely brilliant. Closest thing I come to published words is this fucking thing that floats around the inter nets and kinda keeps me from going insane by being stuck with my thoughts and no outlet to unload them.
I just feel like I'm whistling. That's all I contribute to the world as far as "art" is concerned. While, I'm certainly no "artist" and really have no gift to share there's a certain "art" to at least getting out there and trying it, right? Even if it's not shared with thousands of people or even hundreds. The creation of something is such an amazing thing. When someone listens to what you have recorded or written and has feedback or smiles even, you feel something inside you that kind of confirms that you have created something. Might not be an amazing work but it's SOMETHING...
I really don't know why this struck me this morning but it really did. It could be because the other night my girl was in the bathroom while I sat in the living area (studio apt) and was singing to whatever was playing through my iTunes on my laptop. She came out & told me that she likes the way I sing. I think that made me feel nice in a weird way. It brought me back to the days when I'd sit singing in to some shitty mic at my four track recorded knowing no one would ever hear this shit because I was sure it was terrible.
I guess I somewhat feel like I should be doing something more. I feel like a creative person yet haven't created dick. I'm just whistling.

Oh well.
I'm moving on Friday. It's the second time in as many months...
Bet I'll be whistling while hauling boxes.

See ya.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

hi ho hi ho

Ugh. There's a client in the office today here at work.
Awesome! What this means is we are REQUIRED to look like lifeless drones staring at the screen & answering the phone in an unencumbered manner.
Good times.
So the little browser window in the bottom left of one of my monitors is probably not a good idea so I'm sneaking this in real quick here.

In talking last night with the girlfriend there was a discussion of journals, etc. She did ask if I was a blogger & told her I was. She knows about this blog now. So this is pretty much dead, eh? No offense, babe...
It's just that it's not innocent anymore. This blog has had it's first drink. It got a little tipsy after drinking some gatorade/vodka out of a McDonald's cup. Got really dizzy after sneaking it's first cigarette. It got talked into going over to the house while that the parents were away and maybe made some bad decisions. This blog is knocked up.
What I'm getting at is now that I consciously know there's someone out there reading this the content is no longer the dark side of my brain that I'm unloading without consequence. Because, honestly, if I wanted to come on here & complain about my ole lady that's not really going to happen anymore, amirite?! I guess funny anecdotes like the last post will still be prevalent but I feel a change in this space already. Because, it's human nature, right? I mean once you know there's an audience out there you start performing to some extent. Even if it be sub consciously. Well, I'm going to do my best to keep this thing 100% organically grown honestness.

This whole worry is probably irrelevant because, honestly, we weren't really having any breakthroughs, right!? Tales of office boredom and weekend cocktail consumption can only be compromised so much, right?

Time to put on a smile and do my best robot at a computer impression...


Don't recognize that? That there is robot for have a good day.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

You make me wanna...

Happy hangover.
Went out last night & kind of got at it a bit.
Was 10 minutes late to work and have a bit of a headache as a reward for trying to have fun during the week.
I signed a lease for the new apartment at the restaurant where we met the future landlord. He did not buy dinner. The place did not smell like old people and cottage cheese. Our waitress was cute. I did buy dinner for myself and the roommate. The landlord did not even eat. He ordered and iced tea and was going to have us review/sign the lease and then cut out only having ordered and consumed an iced tea. I felt kinda sheisty about this and decided a BLT club would be a good look. My roommate concurred and ordered one as well. At the end of the dinner the roommate looks into his wallet and says "Yep. Still empty." I bought dinner.

Back to my little personal hell for the day today.
Hungover with a faint, lingering headache.
Went to pick up the girlfriend last night from work and decided to consume a couple beers at her workplace before heading out to meet the roommate and his cousin in from out of town. It was fun. The company... Not the best. I love my roommate and have been to more than a few family dinners at his place. Love his family as well. However, I'm glad his cousin is not mine. I'm not a fan of having tool boxes as cousins. That's a dick thing to say, I guess. I mean the guy seemed to mean well. He just had story after story of how cool he is & what kinda shit he gets at in FL where he's from. I get that he wants to impress his younger cousin (my roommate) who he's visiting and doesn't see very often since he lives out of town. Here's an idea, though. Impress him by being yourself.
I don't know why I have such a bad attitude. Maybe it's because he observed something about my girlfriend, and this is a direct quote "Her eyes are so mesmerizing." *Covers eyes* "No, it's a sin. I can't look." I'm guessing this is a sin as he is married. Who knows.
Nah. That's not what did it. I'm not a jealous guy.
I don't know if it's a normal attitude to have but when dudes comment about my girl's attributes, physical or otherwise, I take it as a compliment. I realize it's sometimes dudes trying to hit on her in hopes of boning her, but that doesn't concern me. She wouldn't do that. So...... In turn I feel like that's a compliment as it's a reflection on my good taste. Quotes such as, "Hey you have beautiful eyes/a nice rack/an ass I could eat off of..." just kinda makes me feel like I've done a good job in picking out a looker. She gets A LOT of this also being that she works in the service industry and isn't a pig. So, good thing I have this attitude I suppose.

Uh. Enough.
I gotta go eat off my girlfriend's ass.

Monday, September 21, 2009

Can you feel the butterflies?

It's the end of the day Monday.
I have a meeting with my roommate and who will most likely be our new landlord. We're moving back to the neighborhood I grew up in which is a nicer neighborhood than we are in now. Also, the place is nicer.
Here's the thing though.
We are meeting our landlord at a restaurant. I've never eaten at this place. I should say I've never sat down & consumed a meal at this place.
I have, however, picked up some carry out for me and pops when he was buying & I was flying.

I don't know what the deal with this whole thing is though.
The place looks to me like it might smell like old people & cottage cheese.
Also, what's the game plan? Are we going to chat up our soon-to-be landlord over dinner? Are we there just to discuss lease/apartment stuff? Are we going to have a meal and sign a lease after scoffing down a BLT club or something? Does he pay? Do we pay? Do I try to kiss him on the way to the car if I'm getting the vibe?
Wait. What? Scratch that last one.
Honestly, I don't know what this meeting is going to be like, entail, turn in to.
I will fill the space with what goes down tomorrow, I suppose.

Mmmmm BLT club.

Friday, September 18, 2009


Well goodness gracious.
It's Friday - 5pm.
This is what I anticipate all week long. Here it is. Yet, I sit thinking that I am kinda depressed in the fact that I really have nothing planned. I am going to deposit a check, pay some bills, do laundry and then go to my girlfriends job & drink some beers at an employee discount.
Not exactly a balls out Friday night. I suppose this could be partially attributed to the fact that I have a cold but I think more so (and this is the part that bums me out/makes me a bit anxious) it is because I'm a 25 year old man.
I remember getting just absolutely crazy about Fridays. I mean I'd be out all night Thursday come straight to work still fucked in half from the night before, on no sleep and then pound some Red Bull and be right back at by 7pm on Friday. Now, I need a fucking nap before I can let shit really roar on a Friday because the work week has kicked my ass.
I still feel that I'm quite the trooper and I can still hold my own. I mean, it wasn't too long ago that I had a night in which I puked and rallied, (this is the art of being so drunk (or just drinking the absolute terrible drinks/shots that other people order for you) that you are sick. Hit the bathroom, puke and come back to begin drinking again, usually, not letting anyone know of what just occurred.) ate food not remembering aside from the wrappers strewn about in the morning and had visible bruising/cuts from a fall I don't remember. This can all be attributed to Jameson, probably. Whiskey makes me awesome but only for a brief period of time. Then I get a little too awesome and my brain has to break contact with the awesomeness that my body is doling out, therefore, I black out.

Getting back to the topic. I feel old. This bothers me.
Honestly, I'm looking at the things that I'm excited about for this weekend and it gives me a certain anxiety I can't put my finger on.

Okay, so tonight I'm doing laundry. Awesome. Not looking forward to that so much. However, then I get to see my girlfriend. Who I find amazing. However, that shows a maturity right there, doesn't it? I remember swearing I'd never have a girlfriend simply because it's too easy to pull tail from the bars that I couldn't be committed. (Let's not get this twisted I'm no pick up artist or anything. It's probably an even split between pigs and hotties that I've done and probably leaning more toward the piggies.) So, having a girlfriend that I enjoy spending time with is a sign of growing up right there.

Saturday. Well, I talked to a friend I haven't seen in a while & we discussed how our crew hasn't drank together in a while. This guy is in my phone as "Brother #2" why haven't I seen him in a while!? We used to fuck it up Tue-Sun. Why do we have to make a call to even try and catch up. Ugh. We figure that we'll be texting the others in our group to get something together... We're making plans for this shit. Usually you'd drive down to a bar, see someone from the group & shit just materializes... Making plans is for old people. I'm old.

Don't get me wrong, I realize I've got some good time left before my hips are snapping & I'm shitting my diapers while my son is crying in the corner because his father doesn't remember who he is.
I just think that when you can take a step out of yourself and see the growing up happening little by little it's pretty fucking depressing...

I'm going to try and cheer shit up next week. This is bumming me out just typing it.
But til then, keep rocking your Depends.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009


Work sucks.
I'm getting sick. It really started kicking my ass this morning.
Can't be bothered to even waste time at work.
Just starting blankly at the screen for me today.


Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Out of Touch

That's what I am today, man.
Lemme tell ya. Nothing will leave you more out of touch than coming to work on a Tuesday after braving the great, uncharted north. In this case, Plymouth, WI. That's the girls hometown. And man, does everybody know each other and there business up there.
I'm happy to report that not too many people knew of me before hand. This makes me happy because that means that my current "significant other" is removed enough to not be including in the daily shit talking that goes on over there.... Or, I should be worried because I'm not even worth mentioning to the point that she IS indeed still involved and active in the shit talking that is what they do there & I'm just not worth mentioning. I'm pretty sure it's that first thing, though.

4 days off from my job has left me with quite a bit to do. Amazing. When someone else is absent from work I am amazingly behind because I'm making sure that they are covered while being out. When I come back from being absent I'm amazingly behind because nobody tended to my files. This makes me wonder... Am I the designated cleaner for absent people and just don't know about it? Oh well... Probably better no one else gets in to my files. It'll only lead to me walking up to the desk to ask exactly what the fuck they are doing on the file................

Back to being out of touch. I'm gone for one weekend and that dude from "Ghost" HE GONE! WTF man!? Oh, and apparently Kanye West likes to humiliate young country music starlets... This, depending on who you're talking to around my work, may or may not be that big of a deal. I can assure you right now that this does not even register on my radar for the day today. I'm really just looking forward to getting the hell out of here & taking the lady to dinner by her place. Japanese. Can't wait.

In closing there was a buzz around the office in my absence...
I set my out of office auto reply stating that I will be returning on Sept 8th, 2009. That's incorrect. It should have been Sept 15th, 2009. So I got to wade through not only 100+ e-mails actually related to my job but an odd 30 something to notify me of the error in my out office auto reply in Microsoft Outlook.

Ugh. It's off to lunch for me.
This means I'm going to sit at a table in the lunchroom nose buried in a book, and while you would think this would be enough of a sign to people passing through that maybe I don't want to be bothered with the latest gossip of who made out after getting drunk on Friday, I can assure you that someone will attempt it.
"You read, Jim!?"
I understand that when we go out for drinks I get stupid and slam Rumple Minze sometimes two at a time but that does not make me a total ass clown. Yes. I can read. I enjoy it and find it pleasurable. I enjoy it MUCH MORE than speaking to you about Linda's crazy short skirt today. Kindly fuck off.


Thursday, September 10, 2009

Mr. Happy Guy

That's me.
Today is my Friday.
I'm retreating to WI tonight. Off work at 6pm. I'm packing in a hurry and cleaning out the car. I am making the voyage with the girlfriend and her cat, Jesus.
Jesus is pronounced like that long haired dude that has a tie-in with the Easter bunny that I haven't figured out yet.
Anyway Jesus, the girlfriend and myself will be taking the lovely trip up to WI tonight at about 10pm (hopefully) after she gets off work.
The reason for the trip to WI is to attend a wedding. My girl is a bride's maid & I know no one. I really am indifferent about the wedding but anything that gets me a 4 day weekend is awesome in my book.
There is a football game that's being played on Sunday. Bears v Packers. I'm going to be in cheese country, the only person in the state rooting for the Bears. I NEED the Bears to win this game. I have already been talking shit to the girls parents and told them to spread it around from me. Apparently they have a nice set up in the basement, TV wise, and people come over to watch the game. So I'm sure my shit talking has made the rounds. Also, when we first met the girl told me that she's not really into football and does not have an affinity for any football team. Well, now that we're going to be watching this game on her territory she's suddenly a Packers fan. What? Regardless, I am going to be in for a world of hurt should the Bears shit down the side of their leg during this game.

Here's to hoping.
If the game starts going south early I'll just get drunk. Problem with that is I don't wanna be a shit show in front of the girls parents, right?!
Ugh. Lose, lose.
Regardless, I mustn't complain. Again, 4 day weekend!!!

Wednesday, September 9, 2009


I feel like I'm stuck in Office Space.
No shit.
Around my work they are selling this stupid concept of fun at work. I work as an insurance claims adjuster and sit behind a computer inside my cubicle for 8 hours a day. I have people yelling at me and just generally being pissed off because a) they've been in a car accident and b) have to relive the entire shitty experience with me via questions I have to ask and information I have to gather. Honestly, the idea of "fun" at work is really out the window once I sit down and that first call comes in.

So back to the point. TEAM. This is the drivel that is being pushed down our throat now. That stands for "Together Everyone Achieves More." Vomit inducing, no?
So there's a fun committee at my work and I get that they're trying to make things fun and plan things to get people out of the office & mingling over a beer and burger at a forest preserve near our office. This type of thing then, however, turns in to a sort of forced fun. In which you realize you have absolutely nothing in common with these people and end up just talking about work anyway.

I'm getting off track again, though. So, the fun committee has decided that we should get ready for football season!! This will be fun. Get everyone into a TEAM spirit. So, now beside talking to these people that absolutely hate my guts daily I have to make time to color (with a box of fucking Crayola's) a cheerleader, football helmet, football on a tee, a referee and the best yet a football jersey with our company's logo on it.
That football jersey wasn't originally in the mix but a co-worker of mine drew it up and made some copies.

As if being a drone sitting at a cubicle all day taking calls, making calls and the best one, answering calls of the people who aren't answering their phone and are over at the vending machine gossiping about who's boning who. Now I'm reduced to the work of a child. Coloring.
What did I do today? Got yelled at by some asshole who's car isn't repaired yet and generally stayed inside the lines. AWESOME!

I've had enough today. And there's only about 7 hours to go.
Uh, I give up.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Holy Shnikes!

Back to the grind of the office.
Nothing worse than starting it up after a 3 day weekend.
Especially when the weekend consist of drinking, grilling and drinking some more.
I didn't empty out any handles of liquor or anything but had enough to make sure that my head is just foggy enough to make this day hell...

Overall, the weekend was a success. I'm going to recap it in rewind

Went to a great bar last night as the girlfriend had a going away get together from her job.
The fun part is that I joined the group late and the was about 3-4 hours behind as far as the drinking goes. This means that all stories told were about 10 times funnier to everyone else than they were to me. Also, I seemed to be the only one with an idea of personal space. LOTS of close talking from the drunks. Again, not complaining. Had a great time. Tommy Boy was on Comedy Central and although there was no volume I knew every line in that movie. It's a classic, no?
Oh, and that singer dude from that one band Alkaline Trio was in the bar...

Sunday was chill. Slept in. Watched The Hangover with the roomie (twice) and threw the baseball around.
Then went out to Downers Grove and had a fantasy football draft with some good friends. Then high tailed it to the bar my girl no longer works at for a couple freebies. Her place. Sleep.

Saturday was the family bbq. I hitched a ride with the sis and therefore was able to pound as many beers as possible. Not much to speak of above and beyond that.

Absolutely boring, this post has become.

I'll provide an anecdote from the office in closing.
These are the kind of things that are discussed in an office.
Names have been changed to protect the idiotic.

Percy: Hey man, how's your day going?
Harvey: Fine. You wanna hear some bullshit?
Percy: Always.
Harvey: I was in the bathroom taking a shit, right. I really had to go bad so it was kind of explosive. Well, so I was kinda trying to be cool with the volume of it all but I let a pretty loud, wet fart out. Then someone else in the bathroom started laughing. Can you believe that? Some asshole was laughing at me.

I'm out.
Killed enough time at work today. We're actually pretty busy since yesterday was a day off.


Friday, September 4, 2009

B Log

Friday night - 9:15pm.
I'm where any normal 25 year old would be...
Yep. Babysitting my sister's 3 kids.
Drinking some Miller Lite (out of the can) as this is all the sis is equipped with.
The excitement never ends.

There was a little douchery that took place. The youngest decided to savagely take a bite out of the oldest. There was a bit of a cool down time enforced.
Dunce cap handed out and the little guy was sent packing to the corner.
We laughed and pointed a bit and once everyone had their fun. Promises were made that, no matter how cool Mike Tyson made it look, there would be no more biting. We got back to running a pet store with a bunch of stuffed animals.
There are bears, whales, dolphins but no plastic horses...
I suggested that and it was met with an overall consensus from the children that it'd be ridiculous to have a horse in this pet store......

Good call, guys.
I apologized and they decided that I will just be the customer.

So, I have absolutely no idea what this blog is going to turn into and how often I will post it and if anyone above and beyond myself will even look at it.
I'm really hoping this can become a nice time waster at my 8 hour a day desk job.
I'm also hoping that none of my co-workers and/or managers stumble upon this.
But MAINLY I created this account so that I could post comments on a blog that I've been a long time reader of.
It's badsandwichchronicles.blogspot.com
Also, the author is in a pretty kick ass punk rock band from Chicago, The Lawrence Arms.
I highly recommend the blog and/or the music.

For now I'm going to try to get these kids to sleep.
Then it's over the girlfriends place for my own sleep (after my sister and bro-in-law arrive. Just because I babysit these kids half hammered doesn't mean I'm negligent).

I just moved into a new apartment and things are a mess there. So I'm playing house with the girlfriend.
I have a bit of anxiety about having to get all my shit together at the new place & apparently am deciding to just avoid it. Labor Day weekend is the end of this. I WILL be getting my shit together there.
Also, I've only been dating this girl for about a month and a half and while things are going great I don't know that I want to push my luck with how many mornings she can wake up with this clown who is (for all intents and purposes) homeless, without getting sick of me.

Family BBQ tomorrow. Hitching a ride with my sis so I can a) get some kind of payment for this babysitting job and b) get really drunk and make my little brother look that much more of the responsible/smart/prudent/lame/lovable one.

Cheers and babies tears! It's bedtime for 'em.