Saturday, July 30, 2005
posted by dave at 11:47 PM in category drink

Spent most of the night at Rich O's talking with RealTrainGirl. To drink, I had a Smithwick's and then one of these:

Hitachino Nest Real Ginger Ale

(draft) The first few sips, understandably, brought to mind a beer with ginger ale poured into it. By the end of the glass I'd decided that I did like this beer, and that I wished that it was even a little stranger than it was. Very unusual, and very drinkable.

To finish up I had a Guinness.

The night was very ordinary and boring - until about two seconds after RealTrainGirl left.

At that point, as if on cue, these two guys that had been sharing the living room area with us started talking about YouKnowWho. Now exactly what RealTrainGirl's leaving had to do with anything I don't know. What I do know it that both of these guys are assholes.
They know nothing about YouKnowWho but they still started spewing crap about her.

The last time this happened was back in March. At that time I jumped to YouKnowWho's defense and didn't let up until the bitch doing all the badmouthing left in a huff. This time, for a while at least, I let it go.

I got up and went to stand at the bar. It's none of my business what people think, or what people talk about. Plus, I don't care about anything or anyone at all. That's been the theme of this 'blog for a couple of weeks now.

So I stood at the bar and tried not to listen to the two assholes badmouth the person that - well I don't really know how to finish that sentence. There are really no words left in me to describe her and what she's meant to me. Means to me.

I stood at the bar, trying not to listen, and I thought I was having some success at it.

After a bit though, one of them said something that I just couldn't ignore.


So here I've been coasting along for more than two weeks, unable or unwilling to care about anything or anyone. And out of the blue, from left field, out of my ass even, I find something that I feel passionate about. Someone that I feel passionate about. No big surprise that it's the same thing, the same person, that it's been all along.

I sit here now, typing this entry, and I feel nothing once again. It's all like a fuzzy memory of a dream I'm not even sure I had.

Still, it's nice to know that I'm still capable of caring about something.

posted by dave at 11:53 AM in category pictures

Here are some pics I took the other day. The Jack Daniel's racing car showed up for this thing at work.





posted by dave at 10:07 AM in category daily, drink

When I last went to my old Kent, Washington hangout back in '03, I'd been hoping to see it exactly as I'd left it. Even though I'd been gone for three years. Well, they hadn't just mothballed the place and wrapped it in plastic to wait for my return. Time had continued to march forward, the fucker.

There were an awful lot of people there that I had never seen before. In MY bar. It was a little disconcerting having to look around for people that I knew. I used to know everyone.

That disconcerting feeling is the same one I've been having when I enter Rich O's lately. Last night, as is typical for Fridays, the place was full of strangers. I spent the first part of the night either talking with MusicalHippeeDude and TallLady at the bar, or sitting on the sofa trying not to interact with some retarded people.

When I first went in, I saw that NABC had brought one of their old beers back. I couldn't remember if I'd liked it or not, so I ordered one:

New Albanian Kaiser 2nd Reising

(draft) I'd never call myself a pilsner fan, so I didn't have great expectations for this beer. Having said that, this just wasn't very good. A little citrusy, and a little bit of some odd flavor that I cannot pin down. Must be the corn. Hey, at least I tried it.

I guess I drank about two inches, which was more than enough, and then I switched back to beers I know I like. Specifically, a Smithwick's and then a Bell's Porter.

The retarded people apparently know this guy named Dave, and he is apparently the center of their universe. It was Dave this and Dave that all night long. I was trying hard not to eavesdrop, and trying equally hard not to stare at the retarded girl's breasts - easier said than done, they were right there - but I wasn't especially successful at either endeavor.

Eventually these girls (more strangers) left the island so I moved up there and was quickly joined by CuteBlonde and this dude that I didn't remember but that seemed to remember me.

For my last beer I held a gun to the bartender's head and forced him to sell me a 2004 Alaskan Smoked Porter. Man I miss that beer.

Today I really wanted to go to Indianapolis for this microbrew thingy, but I've got to harvest my lawn (it's way past mowing) and then do some laundry. I'm going to Chicago in the morning and I guess clean clothes would be useful.

Early in the night I sent off a text message to my friend Eric, inviting him and his wife to Rich O's. I guess they were busy. Kids can do that to you.

Oh yeah, I talked with VigilanteGirl for a while on the phone. I apologized for being unavailable lately, and assured her that it's not just her that's become an innocent victim of my mood.

Speaking of my mood, I was actually able to depress myself a little bit last night. This news I got Thursday has irritated me just enough that my mind has started looking for something else to occupy it. I guess I shouldn't be too surprised at what it found.

Thursday, July 28, 2005
posted by dave at 11:18 PM in category daily

Got some rather unsettling and surprising news today. I promised that I'd give it some time to sink in before I reacted. So I'll wait for the whole picture to emerge and I'll try to avoid jumping to any conclusions.

It'll be difficult though, to avoid thinking about the ramifications. It's not like I've got anything else to occupy my mind.

posted by dave at 12:13 AM in category general

I've noticed that I've been getting a lot of visits to this 'blog from China lately.

I guess it shouldn't seem that strange. Over 20% of the world's population lives in China, so the odds are good that at least somebody there will be bored enough to read my stuff. I guess I just figured that I'd be blocked there or something for saying fuck so often.

Anyway, greetings from the West, and I really like your wall!

There also seems to be a big San Diego fanbase. Or stalker community, whatever. I don't think I know anybody in San Diego either.

Wednesday, July 27, 2005
posted by dave at 11:22 PM in category notable, ramblings

I heard an interesting story today. I don't want to get into too much detail. I suspect that it was a little more painful for those involved than the retelling indicated, and I've got no business opening up anyone else's wounds.

Just a little story about a promise kept. An impulse followed. A relationship tested. A drunken jaunt similar to those that have run rampant in my own imagination for months.

I was thinking about this tonight, as I tried to put into words some of my imaginings. As I was trying to do the homework I wrote about the other night and, failing miserably, I thought about this story I'd heard.

This was a story about people that cared about each other. Each in their own way, to be sure, and I'm not going to sit here and say that I completely understand everything, but all of the people in this story definitely cared about what was happening. And even if they didn't like it, they at least understood.

I tried to use this story as an inspiration for my own.

And, as I said, I was failing miserably. I failed miserably.

See, a story of understanding and caring just does not apply to me right now. There are things that have happened to me, or because of me, that I still don't understand. Things that I may never understand. Yet I don't care. I've said so many times in these writings that it's all irrelevant. I believed it each time I wrote it. This time as I write it I don't just believe it - I know it. And if understanding is irrelevant, then I don't need it.

Everything that once threatened to pull me Westward is still there. Every answer to every question is still there, behind those sparkling eyes. It's not that I don't want to know the answers to these questions. I still do. But what was once an all-consuming force has been reduced to mere curiosity. Sure, it'd be nice to know the answers, but I don't really care what they are. And if these secrets wish to remain as such, well that's fine too.

I guess you could say that I've given up.

You could say that, but you'd be wrong. I haven't given up anything. Whatever it was that I had, whatever it was that was driving me for so many months, I didn't give it up.

It was taken from me. In the middle of the night, two weeks ago, I lost focus. Not because I'd turned my gaze elsewhere, but because the world itself had shifted around me. I'm still stumbling about, waiting for my vision to clear. I have no idea what I'll see when and if the world solidifies.

And, right now, I really don't care.

So I won't be writing the story of my search for answers and closure. I won't be writing of how I'd face my fears and my desires and walk through the desert to bare my chest and offer up my heart. I won't be writing about the pain or the joy that would result from such a journey. That story just isn't inside me anymore. Exactly what's inside me I'm not sure.

And I don't really care.

posted by dave at 7:28 PM in category daily

Today after work I met up with RealTrainGirl at Rich O's. It was very nice to see her - it's been a couple of weeks.

Normally after work I'll have an NABC Cone Smoker but this evening I knew I'd be staying a little longer than usual so I had a Smithwick's and then a Guinness.

Ordered a pizza from Pizza Hut and left at around 6:30. Stopped and said "hey" to VigilanteGirl on the way home.

It's days like this that make me wonder if I should bother posting at all. I do try to care about stuff enough to write something interesting, but I'm just not capable of giving a flying fuck about anything right now. Even if I try to stir up old pains, they just don't hurt, and so I just don't care.

Tuesday, July 26, 2005
posted by dave at 11:45 PM in category entertainment

Okay, so last week I never got around to writing anything about the results show. Neal left, and I'm glad. I've actually been right about who should go home three weeks in a row. Yay me!

Tonight started out looking like a pretty boring bunch of performances, but things got interesting later. And not always in a good way.

Jordis: Begging for audience participation always turns me off a little. Sang great though. (80 points)

Suzie: Nothing really wrong, just a little boring. I blame the song. I also took off 5 points for breaking out the harmonica twice and playing a total of like 5 notes. She's still hot though. (75 points)

Jessica: Hot. Part haunting, and part bad Cher impersonation. (80 points)

Mig: Pretty good. The best he's done so far. (85 points)

Brandon: Very distinctive voice that I never noticed before. He mumbled a lot and was very pitchy. (70 points)

Ty: Fucking awesome. Why is this guy not already famous? Is it the goofy hair? (95 points)

Heather: Something very wrong. She says she's been sick, and I can tell. (50 points)

JD: Complete crap. I couldn't listen. He blamed his sister for his poor performance. (minus 846 points)

Deanna: I still don't get it with her, and it seems that the band is finally coming around to my point of view. (40 points)

Daphna: I farted and it sounded better than Daphna's performance. The band guy said she'd murdered the song, and I agree. (minus 42)

Tara: I hate that song. She did okay with it I guess. (60 points)

Marty: Really surprised me. The night's second-best performance. (90 points)

I'd really like to see JD finally stop showing up on my television, but I'm afraid that Daphna will be the one leaving tomorrow. We'll see.

(update Wednesday night: Wow, they kicked both Daphna and Heather off the show. I don't really agree with the Heather thing. It also scares me a little that JD wasn't even in the bottom three. Things like this are why I've been getting so frustrated with American Idol the past two seasons. The sympathy voters have way too much power.)

posted by dave at 9:05 PM in category general

This past week's Pisces Horoscope from Free Will Astrology:

"When truth is buried underground it grows," wrote French novelist Emile Zola, "it chokes, it gathers such explosive force that on the day it bursts out, it blows up everything with it." I'm delivering this as a warning, Pisces, not as a prediction. In fact, if you act quickly, you have an excellent chance of ensuring that Zola's scenario doesn't unfold in your own life. There are important truths that are buried, but if you dig them up and expose them to the fresh air now, they won't explode in a few weeks.

I guess these things are published each Wednesday. At least that's when I see them, in the weekly LEO paper. This particular horoscope I first saw last Wednesday, July 20th.

The guy was a week late. If he'd published this at the same time that this happened, I'd probably still be freaking out over it. Hell, even at a week late it's still a little freaky.

I don't know what caused this particular bit of truth to exhume itself after so many years. I seriously doubt that it had anything to do with Saturn conjuncting with Uranus or whatever. I guess all that's important it that is did reach the surface, and that it did finally, mercifully, kill every last vestige of hope left in me.

Now, if I believed in this shit, and if this horoscope had been published two weeks earlier - or at any other time during the past year - I'd have figured that it was referring to a completely different secret. One that I don't think I've been too good at keeping, but one that still threatened to explode fully into the light at any moment. It still threatens to do that, actually, but it's been completely neutered by now.

This horoscope certainly caught my attention, one week late or not. Another thing that caught my attention is this little homework assignment that the guy put at the end of his horoscope listings. I don't see it anywhere on the site but here's part of it:

Homework: Do a mental exploration exercise and write about the place you're half-afraid to travel to even though you know it would change your life for the better...

This here is like he's writing directly to me, for I've caught myself imagining this trip several times. He's got it wrong with the half-afraid part though. Perhaps he really meant to write totally-fucking-terrified. No matter, I'm still going to write about it. I have serious doubts that what I write will be published here though. We'll see.

posted by dave at 4:25 AM in category general

Was talking with FutureDude yesterday about yet another reason that I could never work at Rich O's. Specifically, we were talking about these idiots that had taken over the living room area. More specifically, we were talking about this one particular idiot that had decided to put a chair right in the middle of the walkway so he could sit his fat ass down and block everybody's path.

This was not the first time that I've mentioned to FutureDude that I could never work at Rich O's, and he suggested that I make a list, suitable for framing, of all of the reasons.

Well I doubt that Roger would ever permit such a list to adorn his walls, I'm going to make a list anyway, and adorn my website with it.

Reasons that I could never work at Rich O's

Idiots that take over the living room area
You people are the first thing one sees when they enter Rich O's proper. If you can't at least pretend to be a little bit mature, then I would 86 you.
Strangers that take over the living room area
I would institute a Rich O's Regular card, available only to the most loyal customers, that could be used to make these assholes move.
Assholes that eat at the bar
Seriously, you people suck. Just because you're too self-centered to actually wait for a table to sit at, that doesn't give you any right to inconvenience the rest of us. The people that eat in the living room area also suck, just not as hard.
That one guy with the dead woodchuck on his head
I would be unable to keep a straight face if I ever had to talk to this guy. I'd have to 86 him.
Assholes with sideways baseball caps
I realize that you need to turn the bill of your cap to the side when you're giving all those free blowjobs in the parking lot, but please fix your damn hat before you come into the bar. You look like a fucking idiot.
Wine drinkers
Rich O's is a fucking beer bar! I'd 86 you in a heartbeat unless you were really really good looking.
People that hide the fucking ashtrays
If even the mere sight of an ashtray is more than you can stand, then stay the fuck out of the smoking section, or I will 86 you.
Corona drinkers
Seriously, what the fuck?

I'm sure that, given any time to actually think about this, I could come up with a couple of dozen more reasons that I could never work at Rich O's.

Sunday, July 24, 2005
posted by dave at 10:36 PM in category daily

I guess things are pretty much back to normal at work. I certainly hope so anyway.

Time for me to start easing that real life thing back into my existence. Not really sure what that means anymore though. I've completely lost focus.

Something will ground me I guess. I can't drift along forever, no matter how pleasant these past couple of weeks have been. Hard to believe that's all it's been. Seems like an eternity. Who was that guy, anyway? What a loser.

So I just drift. I muddle through. I have nothing for long for, and now I have nothing to fight against. I go to that haunted place and I sense no presence. My phone rings and I simply pick it up. I pull into the parking lot and all I look for is a place to park. Nothing more. Nothing less.

I live completely in the present. The present is fucking boring.

Meanwhile, there are fleas in my house. I find this odd because none of the cats seem to be carrying any.

Okay, this is strange. I'm having a fucking panic attack. My hands are shaking like crazy. Prescience, perhaps, or just too much caffiene?

Either way, it's an awful lot like having an actual feeling, so I'm going to enjoy it for a while.

Saturday, July 23, 2005
posted by dave at 9:07 PM in category daily

Today I was presented with a nice little conundrum.

I got the following text-message:

Are you avoiding me?

This coming from a person (who does not read this 'blog) that I am, in fact, avoiding. This is a rather simple yes/no question, but it's one that I cannot answer.

If I answer "no" then I'm lying, and I'm not going to lie just to make this person feel better.

If I answer "yes" then I'm telling the truth, but the mere fact that I'm answering is ending my avoidance, which makes me a liar again.

So my choice is to not respond at all. Not the most grownup way to deal with this, but I never said I was a grownup.

Friday, July 22, 2005
posted by dave at 10:59 PM in category website

I've gone ahead and put in a page to list all of the quotes that may come up on my main page.

Now, everybody that asked owes me a blow job or something.

Thursday, July 21, 2005
posted by dave at 2:30 AM in category ramblings

You people piss me off.

posted by dave at 1:29 AM in category pictures, work

oh, crap

This is a picture of the controllers for one of our storage arrays at work.

It's broken, so I'm still at work waiting to see if it can be repaired.

Wednesday, July 20, 2005
posted by dave at 3:22 AM in category entertainment

The entire show paled in comparison to last week's. I think they're giving the performers a list of shitty songs on purpose just to see what they do.

I'll probably just update this entry after the results show instead of making a new entry.

Marty: Exhausting to watch and listen to. (80 points)

Daphna: Just didn't like it very much. Boring I guess. (70 points)

Ty: Sang the shit out of some stupid song I never heard before. (85 points)

Suzie: Another stupid song. I could listen. She's hot though. (70 points)

Mig: A decent Tyler impersonation, but not great. (70 points)

Neal: This is some kind of a joke, right? (40 points)

Heather: Song seemed too slow. She also seemed to have something in her mouth, like a wad of chew or something. (50 points)

JD: Still a dork. (65 points)

Tara: Finally, a good song. Decent job. (80 points)

Deanna: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ (65 points)

Jordis: Great song. Great voice. Fucked up hair. (90 points)

Jessica: Seems quite full of herself. Hot though. Sang well. (85 points)

Brandon: CCR is perfect for him. INXS, maybe not so much. Did an awsome job. (95 points)

Tuesday, July 19, 2005
posted by dave at 11:48 PM in category general

Here's an excerpt from my server logs for today, showing some of the referrers.

Can you spot the hidden messages?

posted by dave at 5:57 AM in category website

I went ahead and made a little About Me page.

Everybody else has one, why not me?

It's still a work in progress, though.

I also changed the quote mechanism at the top of the main page to provide a link to the original entry.

Monday, July 18, 2005
posted by dave at 10:48 PM in category ramblings

All you heartbreakers and love takers out there, what do you feel when you look behind you at that trail of broken hearts? What do you feel when they scream out your name and then watch you turn away?

Do you feel proud? Exhilarated? Like a winner?

Do you feel anything at all?

What will you feel when you're the one left in someone else's wake? Will you cry out to them as so many have cried out to you? Will you wonder how you can survive another day alone? Will you feel devastated? Hollow? Crushed? Like your soul has been ripped from your body and shredded into a million pieces? Will you wish you were dead, and finally understand that what you've been doing to others all along isn't quite as much fun when you're on the other side of the pain?


posted by dave at 10:04 PM in category ramblings

I wonder what that means?

When I least expect it.

This is an important question because I figure that's when the next big terrible fucked up dramatic thing will happen to me. That's when my sanity will once again be shattered and I'll once again have to start from scratch.

But how do you define least here? Is it when I'm aware that something will eventually happen, but probably not now? Or now. Or now. Or now. Or right now.

Or is it like having monkeys fly out of my ass to give presents to the poor kids? I don't expect that at all, so does that mean that I expect it less than this terrible thing that I both dread and long for?

These are important considerations, because if it's the latter then I may be safe for a long time, but if it's the former I could be in real trouble here. I expect this to happen, but not right away. Each day I feel the probability of it happening become a little bit less. Each day I expect it less than I did the day before.

At what point do I hit that magical when I least expect it mark?

I think I hit it when I stop worrying about it, but I haven't quite forgotten about it.

Like right fucking now.

The moral of this entry is to worry about stuff. You may just prevent it from happening.

posted by dave at 6:44 PM in category comics


posted by dave at 6:38 PM in category daily

Okay, I have 872 things on my mind right now, and I'd just love to write a lengthy entry about each of them, but alas, I am a lazy fuck. So I'll just cover the first 2 or 3 things that pop into my head.

After my nap.


Sunday, July 17, 2005
posted by dave at 8:22 PM in category comics


posted by dave at 8:21 PM in category daily

This girl at Border's today was totally stalking me. I'd talked to her briefly when I first went in, about the writer Connie Willis, then she followed me around the store for a half-hour, almost keeping out of sight, but not quite.

Then she "just happened" to show up at Sully's where I was eating lunch. I was getting a little bit freaked out. Luckily I know the bartender and he let me sneak out the back door.

She was pretty enough, but I really don't need any more drama. Got plenty, thanks anyway.

posted by dave at 6:56 PM in category gallery

As usual, this is nothing like it looked inside my head.


I kinda like it though.

posted by dave at 11:06 AM in category daily, drink

So, like I already said, I was in a pretty strange mood last night. Untethered, unfettered, and a little bit disengaged.

Started out the night going to check out this new place in Georgetown that Dina and Kenny wanted to go to. I needed to get there early to see if they had any good beer.

They not only didn't have any good beer, they didn't have any beer at all. The place was like a Burger King, except with pool tables.

So I left there and got to Rich O's way earlier than normal. The place was crowded as fuck, with the prerequisite infestation of strangers taking up all of the seats at the bar and in the living room area. I just hate those people so much.

Because I'd arrived so early, and because I didn't plan on leaving early, I knew that I'd have to make an adjustment to my drinking regimen. I decided that I'd just stick to Guinness.

You know, I'm really bored sitting here writing this, so I'm going to stop fairly abruptly.

I ended up having three Guinnii and then a Stone Imperial Stout. Dina and Kenny came in for a while. It was a nice night.

posted by dave at 1:27 AM in category ramblings

One time when I was a kid - I have no idea how old - somebody (probably my grandfather) must have told us to go fly a kite, because that's exactly what we did.

My cousins Jeff and Chris, and maybe my sister Dina, all gathered in this little field next to my grandmother's house and we somehow managed to get this one kite flying so high that we could barely see it. As this was our first real kite-flying experience we'd messed something up, and we had the kite string running under this power line.

So the higher the kite went, the tighter the string was pulled against the power line. It was only a matter of time, we all knew, before that string was going to break.

Eventually, of course, it did break. The reel in my hands lost its connection with the kite, the string fell to the ground, and we all looked up. To see what was happening to the kite.

It fell to the ground. What else was it going to do, fly to the Moon? Of course it fell.

But not for a couple of seconds.

When that string broke, when its connection with the Earth had been severed, that kite leapt skyward. Spinning and dancing in the air far above our heads, the kite gained altitude. It actually seemed to be alive. Alive and free. For the first, and as it turned out, last time in its existence.

The kite did, after a few glorious seconds of freedom, fall to the ground, and eventually we walked to retrieve it. What was left of it anyway. Its wooden bones shattered, its paper wings torn and ragged, it was a pretty poor remnant of what it had once been. I don't think we even bothered to pick it up. We just left it there to rot in that field.

So anyway, I've been in a fairly unusual mood tonight, and I've had a tough time coming up with a good description of what it is I'm feeling. I was reminded of the kite by something I saw on TV, and I realized that I'd found the perfect metaphor to describe what's going through my head tonight.

I feel like that kite would have felt, just after its string had broken. Pretty sure that a fall was coming, but still doing my best to enjoy that which I'd just been granted. No longer bound to anything. Spinning and dancing. Relishing the freedom.

Saturday, July 16, 2005
posted by dave at 9:25 AM in category website

Just a small change to the main page.

I now have it selecting a random quote, selected from my 'blog entries, and displaying it instead of the static quote that used to be there.

Of course, this means more work for me because now I have to keep the quotes file updated if I write anything quote-worthy aver again.

And just now I got the idea to include a link to the original complete 'blog entry. I'll have to think about how (and if) I should go about this.

Reading through all of my old entries to select the quotes was fun though.

posted by dave at 1:34 AM in category ramblings

The other morning, Wednesday I think it was, I awoke with a jolt.

I'd been dreaming about the past, as I often do, and my dream self had done something that went against every fiber of my being. Something so wrong that even dreaming about it jerked me awake.

As I laid there, reliving the dream, and trying to figure out where did that come from I felt something shift in my head. Some long-forgotten doorway, nearly rusted shut and completely covered by cobwebs, creaked open. The sound was palpable, and the scene revealed was blinding.

That thing, that horrible thing that I'd just dreamed about, had actually happened.

This particular dream had not been a metaphor for anything - it had been a memory. A reenactment. A playback of something so terrible that I'd somehow managed to block it from my consciousness for over a decade.

I laid there, staring at the ceiling of my bedroom, my heart threatening to leave my chest and go bouncing around the room, and I knew. I had the answer to the most important question I've ever asked myself.

What are you so afraid of?

Koko, having heard my pounding heart or my heavy breathing, rose from his own slumber and came into the room. It knew that late at night was always the best time to torment me.

It all happened so fast.

Just like that which I was remembering had happened so fast.

Koko stared at me for a few seconds, while I matched its gaze with more intensity than I'd ever mustered before, and this time, for the first time, Koko flinched first.

I didn't have to say a word. Koko could see it in my eyes. There was nothing it could ever do to sway me. Nothing it could ever do to lessen my resolve. I did have a reason for my fear, and it was as real as any fear could ever be.

Koko sighed, turned, and left my life as quickly as it had arrived, and I was left alone, completely alone, for the first time in months.

I don't know how exactly long this memory was suppressed, how long it hid dormant in my head. I don't know what triggered its sudden release during a dream. What I do know, what I do know, is that with its release I finally knew what it was that I was so afraid of that I was willing to sacrifice everything to avoid it.

That thing which I feared, it was not apathy, or laughter, or failure, or disappointment. It was not a fear of betrayal, or of disillusionment, or even of outright rejection.

That thing which I fear most, that thing which I buried for so long, that thing which I fought so hard to avoid happening that I even managed to forget it had already happened, that thing...

will have to remain my own secret.

Mine and Koko's actually.

posted by dave at 12:09 AM in category drink

Had a pretty good night at Rich O's. It seemed a little full of idiots, but the living room areas as open so I spent the night talking with TallLady and HomelessGirl. Nice and relaxing, Calm and pleasant.

To drink, I first had a Delirium Tremens, on tap for the first time in a long time. I've already said how much I love this beer. Next I had one of these:

Stone Imperial Stout

(draft) First off, looks fantastic. Black with a firm brown head, I was almost reluctant to drink it for fear of messing up the head. Flavor is a nice chocolate, with just a hint of bitterness about halfway through. I was a little surprised, and a little disappointed, that the ABV is so high on this one. I'd love to be able to have more than one.

For my last beer I had a Smithwick's. Yummy as always.

HomelessGirl and I talked about a lot of different shit. One of the topics that stood out was when we traded spooky real-life stories. Pretty creepy.

After I left Rich O's I wanted to listen to some karaoke, but they were closed, so I went to this bar that had been one of my dad's main hangouts for the last few years of his life.

The place has changed so much that it's barely recognizable.

I just deleted a bunch of shit here. I don't know why I bothered.

Friday, July 15, 2005
posted by dave at 1:08 PM in category general

All these businesses, long ago, decided that it would be cool if their phone numbers could be used to spell out shit. This would make the numbers easier to remember.

So we got numbers like 1-800-CALL-ATT and stuff.

Phone companies started picking up on this, and started charging more for phone numbers that businesses could use this way.

Eventually, either they ran out of numbers or the businesses ran out of money, and so you don't see very many new phone numbers that spell shit anymore.

What you get, instead, is phone numbers that spell the first part of something, and the advertising is beating us to death with this:

Don't forget! Call 1-800-I-CAN-NOT-FUCKING-COUNT today!

And I just know that there are people out there dialing every single number even though the last zillion or so don't even count.


posted by dave at 7:20 AM in category messaging

Found this in my inbox this morning.

Don't know if this is going to work or not.
I'm aiming at the middle of 2005, but they tell me that there's a two-year margin of error at this distance. If you're reading this in 2003, then you're not going to know what the fuck I'm talking about. If you don't get it until 2007, well you'll have all this figured out on your own by then.
Anyway, it's me. Or perhaps I should say it's you. I'm writing from the future. They won't let me say how far into the future. They won't let me say a lot of shit actually. This technology is pretty new here and people are still nervous that somebody's going to upset the timeline and make the universe implode or something. So they're reading and pre-approving all messages into the past, making sure that nobody breaks any of their precious rules.
So, dear Dave, that means that I won't be giving you any stock tips, or winning lottery numbers, or Kentucky Derby Winners. Because that would make us rich and we just can't have that apparently. Oh the horror!
What I'll will give you here, as long as it passes the censors, is some advice.
It will get better. You know it's got to happen eventually. I myself am certain of it, because it did happen. It's all been a big misunderstanding anyway. Things will work out. Maybe not the way you want them to, but if my memory serves me right, you don't really have a clue how you want things to work out.
Eventually, you'll look back at this time and laugh, just like I laughed when reading all this crap you've been posting. To think, it all could have been averted at any time with
and a little bit of patience. You will get everything you need, just not everything you want. And that's okay because you don't know what either of those things are. Oh, you think that you do, but you're so young. I can't believe that
ago, I was as naive as you are.
So my advice to you is simple, and it's not even necessary. You already know what you have to do. Just fucking do it for once instead of doing nothing and then whining about it.
If you do this, things will start to get better. Stop being such a pussy.
Your lovely self,
posted by dave at 12:11 AM in category comics


Thursday, July 14, 2005
posted by dave at 11:14 PM in category drink

Tonight I went out to Rich O's, hoping that something would piss me off enough to make today's experiment a success.

No such luck.

I ended up drinking a couple of beers that I'd already had earlier in the week.

Bells Porter

(draft) Not a thing wrong with this beer. That's the first thing I thought of. No aroma to speak of, a mild chocolate flavor that was quite yummy. No bitterness at all. An excellent session porter.

Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbier Dunkel

(draft) Took a long time to drink - it's pretty filling. Very nice aroma and a good flavor. This beer has convinced me that I now like hefeweissbiers. Seemed to affect me more than its 5.3% alcohol would suggest.

The place was fairly crowded tonight, with a bunch of idiots taking up the living room area, so I just sat at the bar. Pretty boring.

posted by dave at 7:14 AM in category daily

I have decided to be evil today, or at least for part of today. This picture even creeps me out.

click for full-sized image

So what does my being evil mean to you, my reader?

Not much, really.

I'm going to let my anger for some things get a little bit closer to the surface, but not close enough that I'll be doing any venting here. I just need to explore a little, see how much anger I'm keeping bottled up here. Don't want to get an ulcer or anything.

The objects of my wrath will not deserve my wrath, so I'll just keep it to myself and be evil on the inside.

(update: Well that was a bust. No matter how hard I tried, the best I could manage was irritated. Angry was beyond me today.)

Wednesday, July 13, 2005
posted by dave at 11:36 PM in category messaging

Man I'm putting you people to work lately. Good for you though, those asses could use some fine tuning.

First, I ask you to help me decide on vacation destinations. Thanks for the suggestions, and keep 'em coming! Labor Day is fast approaching!

Now I have another thing I'd like some help with.

I read all these 'blogs, and they all have names. Sometimes pretty cool names.

My 'blog doesn't have a name. Unless you count Barenada's 'Blog and I really don't want to count that because it's a pretty stupid name.

So I'd like to come up with a name for the thing. That way, when people put a link to me on their own 'blog sites, they can put something better than Barenada's 'Blog or Some Shithead That Vomits Words.

A couple of weeks ago somebody typed the phrase desperate to pooping into google and got led to my site. I find this phrase hilarious, because I'm a child at heart. So far, that's the number one contender for my 'blog's name. My brain is stuck on the phrase desperate to pooping and I don't seem to be able to think of any alternatives.

So, if you would be so kind, please send me some suggestions.

posted by dave at 10:23 PM in category entertainment

I took these notes during the Tuesday night show. Uses the same rating system that my American Idol reports use.

Heather: Much better than her Monday night performance. Pretty damn good in fact. Wow. (95 points)

Marty: Man this guy is fired up! He gets me fired up listening to him! (84 points!)

Daphna: Not as good as she was on Monday, but it was a pretty shitty song she was stuck with. Looked good though. (70 points)

Suzie: Hot. I think she sang too. (75 points)

Brandon: Also sang something. (70 points)

Jordis: She will be a star whether she wins this show or not. My favorite performer. Has her hair done, apparently, by the same guy that did Travolta's in Battlefield Earth. (95 points)

Mig: Stupid name. He just seems like he should be fronting a band. Maybe not this band though. (83 points)

Deanna: I just don't get it with her. (65 points)

Wil: What the fuck was that? Get off my screen you poser! (10 points)

Jessica: Great song. She should have used a sexy voice though. A little too harsh. (65 points)

Tara: Got stuck with The Eagles. Boring. (70 points)

Neal: Still stoned from Monday night. (50 points)

Ty: Damn good. This guy really rocks! (95 points)

JD: Kind of a dork. (65 points)

So I ended up with a three-way tie between Jordis, Heather, and Ty. Jordis and Ty didn't surprise me, but Heather improved a lot. She sounded great. And that Ty guy, while not looking like a rock singer, definitely sings like one. He was born for this kind of music. Jordis just continues to blow me away. I can't believe she's only 22.

Anyway, tonight the three lowest vote getters were Wil, Tara, and Suzie. Suzie really stepped it up and nailed her performance. Tara did a better job with a better song, and Wil continued to ignore the band's advice and continued to sing to the first row of women in the audience only.

Wil was sent home. Yay!

For those of you that missed the Tuesday night show, they're going to replay it Saturday night after Big Brother.

posted by dave at 9:40 PM in category daily

So I'm a little annoyed today with the female species. Actually, not the entire species, just a few subspecies. Namely flirticus vaginus and exus girlfriendus and sluttus major.

As long as I'm playing with lists today, here's one directed at these women:

  • No means no.
  • Breakup sex is supposed to be just that, not an ongoing justification.
  • Don't say it if you're not going to back it up. I remember everything you say.
  • Sometimes it's just not convenient to play your little games. Especially when I know I can never win that prize.
  • My mood is not always about you. You can, however, make it about you if you whine enough.
  • Put up or shut up.
  • You have always known exactly how I felt. Hell, you knew it before I did most of the time. Don't try this guilt trip shit with me.
  • If I'm ignored long enough, I will stop trying. You're not allowed to get mad when that happens.
  • Yeah, right. Like that's going to work.
  • Try looking in a mirror sometime.
  • Cover that shit up. Nobody wants to see it.

Besides the annoyance, I'm a little bored today. Waiting for that new Rock Star: INXS show to get tivoed so I can rock out for a while.

posted by dave at 9:00 PM in category pictures

This is part of the mens' bathroom wall at Rich O's. MisunderstoodGirl painted this months ago.

jazz mural

I so want a pool-themed mural in this style on my basement wall. Maybe someday.

posted by dave at 6:20 PM in category messaging

Was asked the following question today by a regular reader:

Don't you ever wonder if maybe you're just building a mountain out of a molehill here? Maybe everything that you think makes this different is just in your head. If you imagine things to be so unusual, then you don't feel so bad for feeling so bad. You know what I mean.

You know, I have wondered this a lot. I've wondered if, by imagining that something extraordinary is happening, I'm managing to ease my own embarassment and guilt over letting it drag on for so long.

The more I think about it, however, the more I become convinced that I'm not just making shit up to ease my own concerns. I'd just love to give detailed explanations for my reasoning here, but propriety prevents me from doing so.

I'll tell what I will do. I'll summarize each thing that makes this different with one word. One word that probably won't do any of you readers any good at all, but it will be plenty to remind me of why I'm so damn confused.

One of these I actually touched on yesterday.

  • reincarnation
  • irritation
  • suddenness
  • masturbation
  • sacrifice
  • insomnia
  • decoration
  • gorilla
  • hair
  • fishing

Now, feel free to let your imaginations run wild!

Now, I'm absolutely not saying that all of this is new and unique. I'm sure that zillions of others have gone through the same thing. How else can you explain the country music industry? Or Hell, the music industry in general?

What I am sure of, however, is that this is all new to me. That's why it, and her, have been so fascinating that even with the pain I still relish this period.

posted by dave at 7:39 AM in category ramblings

(Someone just pointed out that I've already used the title for this entry, a long time ago. I don't remember a rule where we can't use the same title more than once, so I'm not changing it.)

First, a story. A true story.

Back in the third grade, we had this new kid show up for school one day. Just a regular new kid, from Philadelphia. Almost immediately, I felt a connection with him. I was just positive that I knew him from somewhere and, more than that, I was sure that we were friends.

He was a nice enough guy, and we did become friends of a sort. One time I asked him if we'd ever met before. He told me that he'd lived in Philly his whole life so no, we'd never met before.

So this guy and I ended up going through the rest of our school years together, talking when we had the same classes, one year when our lockers were adjacent, but otherwise he was just a guy I knew, and I'm sure that's all I was to him.

But I never forgot that feeling I'd had when I first saw him standing next to the teacher and getting introduced to the class. That feeling that I knew him. This was no stranger at all. There was never a doubt in my mind that I'd seen this guy before.

So twenty years go past. It's June 2004 and I'm sitting at The Tilted Kilt bar in Las Vegas and end up talking with the guy sitting next to me. He also seems oddly familiar, and it turns out that there's a damn good reason this time.

It's the same guy. He's in Las Vegas for the same conference.

We get to bullshitting and catching up. The guy has had a much tougher life than I have, but he seems to be coping with it very well. At one point I tell him about how, back when he was new at my school, I'd been positive that I knew him from somewhere.

I realize that I'm starting to ramble a bit here, but I'm getting to the strange part.

It turns out that the guy hadn't lived his whole life in Philadelphia before he moved to Georgetown.

He'd actually been born in New Albany.

In the town where I was born.

In the same hospital.

On the same day.

An hour after I was born.

His family had moved East a few weeks after he was born, and so I didn't see him for another eight years, but I had seen him before. We'd been in the same maternity ward at the same time, on the day that we were born.

Pretty weird, huh?

Those feelings I had back in third grade turned out to have an explanation after all. Not the most believable one, perhaps, but one that I can accept because I have to accept it. Kind of hard to argue with the facts when they're right in front of me. I saw this kid the day I was born, and a part of me remembered him eight years later.

About a year and a half ago I saw another person. I may have mentioned her a couple of times in this 'blog. What I don't think I've mentioned here is that, by the third time I talked to her - and the first conversation of any length, I had feelings that were very similar to those I'd had about the kid in the third grade. This time, though, the feelings were much stronger, and much more specific.

I know this girl. She is important to me. More important than anyone else. Her happiness is vital to my own happiness.
I guess I'm talking about love at first sight here. Weird, because I never really believed in that, at least not before I saw her that evening at Rich O's, clutching her laptop . Meeting her is where that particular belief was born.

This was no everyday crush. This was not a crush at all. It was more, much more than that. It was everything. It was something that simply was and I had no explanation for it.

Still don't.

I remember wondering, back when I was a kid, if the guy from Philly and I had known each other in a past life or something. Not that I believed in any of that shit. It just seemed like a better explanation, or at least one that was easier to accept than the one wherein I was insane.

I still don't believe in reincarnation, but if it ever turns out to be real, then I absolutely guarantee that I knew her before. She was important to me before. More important than anyone else. Her happiness was vital to my own.

I guess some things never change.

Tuesday, July 12, 2005
posted by dave at 10:43 PM in category pictures

Just some pictures that I cleaned out of my phone.


This is the Baltika beer I had the other night. I didn't say these would be interesting pictures.

staring contest

Happy and Buddy have these staring contests all the time. Here, Buddy is trying to use his laser vision to force Happy off of his favorite lounging spot.

up to something

For a while, they crammed both of their fat asses onto the coffee table.

playing dead

Eventually Happy moved to the floor, allowing Buddy to stretch out.

posted by dave at 6:54 PM in category daily

Just updated the FAQ page after an e-mail exchange I had today. I'd have to say that this FAQ entry was long overdue, because I get asked these questions a lot - usually the questions are followed by accusations of retardation and/or drunkenness, but this particular person was quite nice about it.

Meanwhile, I've actually had a couple of pretty good days at work. This is quite rare, and it kinda makes me a little paranoid.

Also, I have an idea for an entry, but I'm unsure if it should be posted or not. I'm going to sleep on it for a while.

Monday, July 11, 2005
posted by dave at 8:58 PM in category daily

You know, I don't think I'm going to write anything today.

Except this, that is.

I'm in a pretty good mood, and want to stay that way.

Sunday, July 10, 2005
posted by dave at 10:43 PM in category messaging, ramblings

Okay, so you want to know the reason. I ramble on and on and then I just rush through the ending and I never reveal the reason that I'll hurt you.

Here's a little secret: Right here, right now, I don't know the fucking reason. Oh, I have some suspicions, but nothing concrete.

I'm not even sure, right here, right now, that there is one single thing that I could point to and say "That there. That's why we cannot be together. That's why I'm so fucked up that I won't let myself have what I want most in the world."

Maybe I don't know because it'll be different each time. Maybe I'll wait until that final conversation to think of something to tell you.

That's probably it. I'll open my mouth and start rambling, and as I say the words they'll become reality.

But don't worry that you'll be short-changed. Whatever I come up with, I'm sure it'll be good and convincing. You'll believe it and, by then, so will I. Everybody will be equally unsatisfied.

But you know, there is a way out of this trap. A way out beside running I mean. It's actually pretty simple in concept, but I guess it's more difficult in execution, because there's only been one so far. And I can't really count her. Okay, maybe there have been two, but I still can't count either of them.

Just dazzle me.

Just be so wonderful, so astonishing and so fascinating that there's no room in me for doubt, or for fear, or for terror. Just be so bright that the only thing I can see is you. But make sure that you do it soon, before I get too complacent. For once that happens, I'll start to think. And that is where the trouble starts.

Don't give me a chance to think.

Just enchant me. Overwhelm me. I dare you.

posted by dave at 8:16 AM in category general

This scares the Hell out of me.

Plague-infected cats cause worry in Wyoming

Saturday, July 9, 2005
posted by dave at 10:39 PM in category drink, ramblings

Eleven months ago, my body started having a problem with alcohol.

It seems to be coming back. Over the last week, I've turned into even more of a lightweight than normal.

Tonight I had myself an NABC Cone Smoker, followed by about three-quarters* of one of these:

Baltika 6 Porter

(bottle) I was quite impressed by this. An aroma that I can only describe as chocolately-grapey. A flavor that stayed with me from the time my lips touched it to the time I swallowed - in other words, consistently good. Quite yummy. I wish I'd had another one.

That was it. I'd had enough. So I ended up getting home way before 10:00.

I'm in a fairly shitty mood, but not for my normal reasons. Tonight I just found myself thinking about some problems that friends and family are having, and I realized that I just don't give a shit. No matter how much I try to care, no matter how obvious it is that I should care, I just don't

I am, as I've said before, a horrible person.

When I was a kid I took a golf ball apart. There was the rubbery outer layer, then about a zillion miles of rubbery string, then a hard rubber core.

If you were to take me apart right now, I'd at first seem to be a lot like that ball.

A fairly innocuous outer layer covering a much more complex layer.

But the similarity would end when you got to the core.

I don't seem to have one.

What I have, at the very center of my being, is a hollow space.

This annoys me, because I feel like a fairly normal person, I look like a fairly normal person. But deep inside I guess I'm some kind of zombie or something.

My soul, that part of me around which everything should be based, has shrunk to nothing. Beaten and ridiculed, it has curled into a little ball so tight that it may never be whole again.

I've been going about this, my healing, the wrong way. I've been working from the outside in. I act like I'm a person so people will think I'm a person, then I start to feel like I'm a person, but deep inside there's nothing. At the center of my being I am still nothing. My rebirth was but an illusion.

So how do I start over? How do I rebuild myself from the inside out?

I have no idea, and it bothers the Hell out of me.

Or at least it would, if I had a soul to be bothered.

* - I had the word "questers" here instead of "quarters" all night. What a dumbass I am.

posted by dave at 4:00 PM in category notable, ramblings

When you see me for the first time, you won't pay much attention. Just an average guy, doing average stuff. Sitting at the bar drinking a beer. Boring, really.

But if you're bored enough yourself, you might keep looking. Maybe there's something about me that you're curious about. Maybe it's that I look a little sad. Maybe you think I look out of place. Or like I'm waiting for something. Or maybe dreading something. Or maybe I'm just the only other person in the place.

I'll catch you looking at me, and I'll give a little smile. You'll quickly look away.

The next time you see me, you'll smile first and I'll frown and then smile back. It takes me a second to recognize you, and this bothers you a little. You can also tell that you're not who I was hoping to see come in.

This is the point when you should run away.
But if you don't run, if you stay, if you keep coming back, eventually you'll find yourself talking with me. We'll talk about the weather, the crowd, the beer. We'll learn each other's names and even shake hands. We'll have a pleasant conversation about nothing much in particular. I seem friendly enough. It's nice to meet new people.

After a while, we'll start to look for each other when we go to the bar. Just a couple of regulars that know each other. I'll save you a seat. You'll sit with me and we'll talk about our days and our lives while we drink our beers and watch the other people. We both like people watching.

You should definitely get out now. While you still can.
But if you don't get out, if you stay, if you keep coming back, things will start to change. We'll still sit together and talk. We'll still laugh at each other's jokes. We'll feel more and more comfortable around each other. But things will be starting to change. I'll be looking at you a lot more often. Stealing glances. I'll look at your hands a lot, while my own hands twitch but remain stationary. I'll sit a little closer to you, so I can feel your body heat, maybe sneak a whiff of your hair. I'll watch you sway when you walk to the bathroom. You probably won't even notice.

But I'll notice. And I'll start to be afraid. This can't be happening again.

Others will notice too. They'll see me looking at you. They'll see us together all the time. They'll start to see us instead of me and you. They'll start to assume that the things I've only just started to imagine are actually true. That we're a couple now. They'll probably think we look good together. Happy.

It's almost too late. You really should leave now.
But if you don't leave, if you stay, if you keep coming back, you'll start to notice things. The way I look for you the instant I walk in. How relieved I am when I see you. How quiet I get when you talk to another guy.

What you won't see is how disappointed I am when I come in and don't see you. How, a lot of those times, I'll just turn around and leave. How, when I do stay, I jerk my head up every time I hear a woman's voice. What you won't know is that, while you go to the bar to hang out with your friends and have a good time, I go there for a different reason.

I go there to see you.

By this time, I'll be starting to fight what's going on inside me. I'll be telling myself that I've learned my lesson well, that I there's no way I'll fall into the same trap again.

Seriously, get the fuck away from me. It's for your own good, and mine as well.
But if you don't get the fuck away from me, if you stay, if you keep coming back, you'll definitely start to notice. How I won't even look at you while we're talking, but I'll steal glances every time you turn away for even an instant. You'll start carrying most of our conversations, because I'm afraid to say anything lest I blurt out my feelings. You'll notice these things, but you won't talk about them with me. You'll think I'm angry at you over something, but you won't be able to figure out what. Maybe you'll even start to suspect the truth, but you certainly won't want to talk about that with me. You won't want to risk our friendship with any romance. Besides, what if you're wrong?

Our time together will become more and more quiet. You'll try to tell yourself that we're just growing more comfortable with each other. That we can be silent. That there's no need for us to just blather on and on. We're friends, after all. There's no rule that says we have to fill every moment with conversation.

This is when the last one left. You should follow that example.
But if you don't follow that example, if you stay, if you keep coming back, then I'll reach a point where I can no longer be in the same room with you. I'll think about you constantly. I'll miss you when I'm not with you, yet suffer when I am with you. Being your friend will not only be just not good enough, it will become impossible. What used to be relief at seeing you will turn into disappointment. My smile will disappear. The others will start to talk. They'll figure that we've had a fight. A big one from the looks of it. Some of them will try to help.

They'll ask me what's wrong, but I won't want to talk about it. How can I tell them what I haven't even told you? They're not important to me. What they think is not important to me. What's important to me is that I'm reeling, that I'm desperate to keep from hurting you, but I can't see any way around it. It's inevitable now.

This is your last chance to escape.
But if you don't escape, if you stay, if you keep coming back, then I'll be the one to leave. I'll simply stop coming to the bar. It will be too painful for me to be with you but not with you. I'll be afraid to say goodbye, terrified of what that could lead to. I'll just stop coming. I'll know that you'll be hurt by this, but I'll also know that to tell you the truth would hurt you even more. Since you won't leave, I will.

But you'll miss me. You'll ask people what happened to me. Eventually someone will tell you. Or maybe you'll figure it out on your own. But you won't quite want to believe it. You'll be sure that I'm just mad at you over something, and you'll want the chance to talk it over.

You'll call me and ask for an explanation. I'll be unable to refuse, but I'll insist on telling you in person. Some things just aren't said over the phone. So we'll agree to meet that night.

You'll be sitting in your regular place in the bar, but I'll know that we'll need privacy. I'll take your hand and pull you off to a quiet corner. I'll ask the waiter to give us some time, and I'll take both of your hands into mine. I'll look you in the eyes for the first time in months.

I'll tell you the truth. I'll tell you that I love you, that I don't know how I can possibly live without you, but that I must live without you.

Your heart will skip a beat. A million thoughts will go though your head. You'll try to see me, for the first time, as something more than a friend. You'll imagine us together, and you'll like how that image makes you feel.

So you'll take a breath, and you'll laugh, and you'll tell me that you love me too. Then you'll realize what I've just said. You'll ask me why I feel that I must live without you. You'll already be preparing to counter whatever I say.

I won't lie to you. You'll deserve the truth. I'll tell you that no matter how much I love you, how much I long to be with you, that there is no way that we can ever be together. I'll tell you why. I'll tell you everything. It will take a long time to tell you, but finally I'll finish.

You'll start to protest, but something in my eyes will tell you that I'm telling the truth. You'll realize now, after all these months, why I looked sad when you first saw me. You'll realize that there is something bigger than me and you, bigger even than us that's standing between us. And you'll see that I'm right. I cannot be your friend, and I cannot be anything more. You'll see that I'm taking the only choice left to me.

So you'll remove your hands from mine, get up, and walk away to cry in private.

I told you to leave. You had plenty of chances.
But you won't have left, you will have stayed, you will have kept coming back, and you'll end up wishing that you'd never even met me.

posted by dave at 10:44 AM in category hotd

They say that a picture is worth a thousand words.

Piper Perabo

To this picture of Piper Perabo, my July 9th Hottie of the Day, I'll add one more.


posted by dave at 8:51 AM in category comics


posted by dave at 12:47 AM in category drink

Okay, I'm just going to rush through this entry because I don't feel like writing anything.

On the way out tonight I stopped to see VigilanteGirl*. She's in a much better mood tonight, so that's good.

At Rich O's, I started out with a Gulden Draak, reasoning that if I had the strongest beer first I'd be better able to pace myself later. Ha ha.

My plan (MisunderstoodGirl made fun of me for having an actual beer plan) was to next have an NABC Cone Smoker and then end the night with a Smithwick's or two.

But noooooooooooooooo!

After the Gulden Draak, I saw a beer written on the board that intrigued me - especially after last weekend's experimentation.

Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbier Dunkel

(draft) Took a long time to drink - it's pretty filling. Very nice aroma and a good flavor. This beer has convinced me that I now like hefeweissbiers. Seemed to affect me more than its 5.3% alcohol would suggest.

I drank this beer over the course of about two hours while sitting with RealTrainGirl and MisunderstoodGirl in the living room area. Once it was finally gone, I realized that I'd seriously miscalculated something and that even a Smithwick's would be too strong for me.

So I ordered a Guinness.

I drank about three inches out of it and decided that I'd had enough.

So tonight, for whatever reason, 10 ounces of 10.5% beer plus 20 ounces of 5.3% beer plus about 4 ounces of 4.2% beer was my limit.

I know not why.

So I left Rich O's a little before 12:00 and went back to see VigilanteGirl again. She's taking her unsettling news very well, though I guess she could just be in shock. I know I would be. I'll be there for her as much as she'll let me.

That's all I want to write.

* - When this entry started I was using a different nickname here. After reading it this morning I decided that I didn't want to have to keep track of two names for her, so I switched back.

Friday, July 8, 2005
posted by dave at 5:55 PM in category ramblings

Anybody remember this one?

Q: What whistles at 60 mph?
A: James Brady in a convertible.

If you don't get it then you're probably too young.

I forget where I was going with this.

posted by dave at 3:04 AM in category travel

I think I mentioned before that I've decided to split up my remaining vacation time this year into several little mini-vacations.

In the past, I've pretty much just used it all for this pool tournament in January. This year I'm only going to use up two days for the tournament, and the remaining (5 days currently) I'll use to create or extend some 3-day weekends and take short trips. Like I did with Omaha last Spring, Portland this past March or with Cincinnati this past weekend.

I have fun on these trips, and I've decided that I need to take more of them.

So I've put a form on my where I've been page for you readers to suggest places for me to go.

All reasonable suggestions will be considered.

Telling me to go to Hell, while both predictable and humorless, is unfortunately not something I'll be able to consider. I've already been there. Didn't like it much.

Thursday, July 7, 2005
posted by dave at 4:59 AM in category messaging

(response to message)

Yeah, I know. I don't really like it either. The ending sucks, and so does the writing.

I just couldn't leave the poor guy in pain forever, so I had to end it somehow.

A happy ending was not an option. Never was, really.

I could have done a better job of wrapping things up, but I decided that it would be better to just get it over with.

Anyway, thanks for reading!

Wednesday, July 6, 2005
posted by dave at 11:43 PM in category peril

His reawakening complete, his body restored, his pain faded, he begins kicking furiously, driving himself upward. His head breaks the surface, followed by his torso, his legs, and finally his feet.

He continues to rise.

Looking in wonder at the waters below him, he realizes that he is finally free of their grip. He soars, free and safe.

But only for a moment.

For he died in the depths, and he was reborn in the depths. Without their cold embrace he cannot exist.

He is smiling when he evaporates.

It was so worth it.

The end.

posted by dave at 10:56 PM in category general

Take the MIT Weblog Survey

posted by dave at 10:40 PM in category comics


I tan fast, and I fade even faster. Kind of like some other things that I can't think of right now.

posted by dave at 10:02 PM in category drink

Today I welcomed two old friends back into my life.

First, out of the blue, I got a text message from RealTrainGirl. She is apparently finished being pissed at me, though she denies having ever been, and wanted to see if I was going to Rich O's after work. I was, and she did too.

The second reunion of the day was in the form of NABC's Cone Smoker, back after being gone for over a year. Of course I had some.

New Albanian Cone Smoker (Second Coming)

(draft) The second brewing of this beer, this time from NABC's new brewer, has a slightly tweaked recipe. Or so I hear. Pretty good. To compare to the rauchbiers that I've had the most of lately: Slightly less bite than Spezial, slightly less smoke than NABC Noble Smoker, but could probably pass for either one. Very minimal carbonation though - a trait that's pretty common with all NABC beers.

To tell the truth, I'm not enough of a beer guru to understand the difference between this and the NABC Noble Smoker that ran in the Spring. I'm also not sure I understand the need for two such similar brews in the NABC stable. Buy hey, when it comes to rauchbiers, the more the merrier.

Also, this near-total lack of carbonation has become something of a trademark for this little brewery. I find it to be something that I just put up with, like the broken springs on the sofa and the fruit flies that surround me whenever I have a Belgian beer.

posted by dave at 7:18 PM in category messaging

So one of my female readers helped clarify the I saw him first rule that I described the other day.

According to her, the whole female loyalty thing only affects whether a woman is going to make the first move or not. When the right guy makes the first move, all sisterhood is out the window.

This make perfect sense to me, and it also explains several of the exceptions to the rule that I've seen over the years.

Now I have to ask MixedSignalGirl why she didn't fill me in about this nuance of the rule.

posted by dave at 7:13 PM in category comics

Just some alternative, and better, endings to the 2005 comic from Monday.


Tuesday, July 5, 2005
posted by dave at 1:14 PM in category website

Just working on a new archive page.

(update: Okay, well that was fun I guess. It had better have been fun because it's the only thing I did all day Tuesday. Besides work and sleep I mean.)

Monday, July 4, 2005
posted by dave at 10:57 PM in category quiz

Which Revenge of the Sith Character are you?

posted by dave at 7:17 PM in category comics, ramblings


The above illustrates some of the earliest advice my father ever gave me about women. The thinking was that I should be as nice as possible to all of the women I met. That way, even if they themselves weren't interested in me romantically, they'd be sure to know someone who might be. By being nice to all women I stood the best chance of getting a good recommendation.

Make sense, right? Wrong!

That scene may have been perfectly valid in the year 1955, when my father was learning about women as he fought off dinosaurs and stockpiled food for the coming ice age. But now, in 2005, here's what's much more likely to happen:


I'm convinced that this is happening all over the world. Women today (and men too) are no longer looking for the one. They're looking for anyone. If they happen to find their true love and live happily ever after, then they got very lucky. And I hate them.

But most, like about 99.9999999999999% of us, don't get so lucky. We're just getting by, and we're usually pretty sure, deep down, that whoever is currently filling that romantic void in our lives will not be there forever.

So we start looking for the next victim, er, companion even while we're still with the current one. We'll set up a sort of batting order in our heads so we're always ready, so we're never alone.

Women have a much easier time of this than men do. Some women may disagree with that statement, but no man anywhere on Earth would disagree with it.

Men, in general, do get attached to one particular woman. Women, in general, get attached to the idea of being attached. So women generally have a much easier time moving on. Please note that I didn't say easy, I said easier.

I know I'm going to get flamed for this, but I think I'm right. And what's more, I had a long conversation with one of my ex-girlfriends about this the other night. Most of this stuff came from her.

And I know that there are many exceptions for every generalization. That's why it's called that instead of a certainty.

So where am I going with this? Oh, yeah.

The point I wanted to make here was the this could explain that curious phenomenon that men have been puzzling over.

When you see a nice sweet girl with a fucking asshole, it may not actually be because, deep down, women like assholes. It just might be that these jerks are the only ones left that haven't had a "reserved" sign hung around their neck by some other woman.

Read this carefully, guys - it may be important.

If I'm right, then the trick to finding a good woman is not to be too nice. If you're too nice, you're going to end up as somebody's fallback guy and you'll be lucky if you ever even get your finger wet.

Also, you can't be too much of a jerk, for more obvious reasons.

The trick, if I'm right, would be to just be of average niceness, but to be sure and be a prick every now and then too. You're not nice enough to really flash on anybody's radar, and you're not mean enough to get the wrong kind of reputation. Be quiet and mysterious. Be aloof but friendly. Walk that line.

You can be an asshole, but not so much of one that you seem incurable. You can be a nice guy, but not so nice that women start putting you into their batting order.

Hey, this could actually work!

Man I've posted a lot today.

posted by dave at 5:52 PM in category general

Kelly Clarkson Tickets

These came in the mail the other day.

Talk about cruel. First they tell me that the show has been cancelled then they go ahead and send the tickets anyway.

Not very cool. Not very cool at all.

posted by dave at 1:43 PM in category daily, pictures

Polly's Freeze

Took this picture while eating lunch at Polly's Freeze today.

I didn't say it would be an interesting entry.

posted by dave at 11:07 AM in category general

Last year on this date I wrote a pretty lengthy entry.

I even posted it for a few minutes, then I deleted it.

This morning I did the same thing.

I haven't forgotten what today is, just like I haven't forgotten that date in May. Or the one in March, or even the one in January.

I do remember these things. It would be easier if I could forget them, but I how could I forget? They're burned into me. Some of them for over two decades now. This one for sixteen years.

I haven't forgotten, but neither do I celebrate them.

Instead I write about them and then keep those writings private.

Do not respond to this. I will never be ready to reopen those wounds.

posted by dave at 10:54 AM in category ramblings

And through it all there is still hope.

What's up with that?

I can't quite pin it down. I laid in bed for most of the night, staring at whatever my head was pointed at, trying to figure just what it was that was keeping this hope alive. More than that even, I spent a good chunk of time trying to see what it was I'm hoping for.

I mean, I've got everything I ever asked for. I've kept the pain, as much as possible, pointed squarely at me. Our lives have finally become separated to where I no longer live in fear of my phone. There are no more inane messages, spaced weeks apart, that seemed to serve no purpose other than to remind me of what I was missing. There are no expectations. No disappointment.

I've fucking got it made!

Yet through all that there is still hope. Hope for failure? Because that's the only possibility left open? Because that would serve to provide the closure that was sought, yet denied, in the Spring?

Sounds pretty selfish to me. I don't think that's what I'm hoping for.

Hope for happiness? For love eternal? For sitting together on a porch watching our grandkids play?

Not bloody likely. I gave up hoping for those things before I even started.

I think what I'm hoping for just cannot be put into words. At least not by me, but I'll try.

A man, going blind, hopes to see one final sunrise. A dying man hopes to take one last breath.

I hope for two more seconds. Two seconds, that's what it took last time. Those two seconds that elapsed between when she walked in the door and when I saw the horrible truth about what was inside me - those two seconds were bliss.

I just want two more seconds. I believe that I'll be destroyed in those two seconds, but it would be worth it.

Two seconds. That's what I hope for.

posted by dave at 1:22 AM in category notable, ramblings

I've spent some time tonight reading back through my old entries.

  • Reading about how much pain I was in.
  • About how I had put that pain behind me.
  • About how the pain had caught up once again.
  • About how I'd finally been healed.
  • About how much pain I was in again.

Monotonous, isn't it?

One of my favorite entries is the one in which I wrote this:

To cross one range, and see before me nothing at all between me and the next range, to know that the next hour or so of my life would mean nothing and would contain nothing of interest - that's a pretty good analogy for what's going through my head this morning.

I don't know what that has to do with anything, really. I'm just muddling through here after all. I think that paragraph about the Nevada desert may have struck a chord tonight because my mood has been like those hills and valleys.

Happy then sad. Excited then bored. Accepting then stubborn. Angry then furious.

Well that breaks the pattern, doesn't it?

I've always figured that I'm about average when it comes to forgiveness. Most people are able to apologize to me, and that's that. In fact, until recently, there's really only been one person that's ever mistreated me so badly that forgiveness is virtually impossible. It's been well over a decade and I'm still furious, still stinging. Nope, I don't think I'll be sending any Christmas cards that way.

Now there's another one. Now there's another person that has done their best to fuck me up for life. He's done a pretty good job of it too.

I don't really care if he meant any harm or not. It was obviously inevitable, and I tried very hard to get him to just butt out. To just leave well enough alone.

But this fucker, this unbelievably selfish asshole, he just had to keep on pressing. He just had to see just how far he could push things. He'd gotten this idea into his head and, by God, he was going to see this idea through to its conclusion.

Or die trying.

Or destroy me. Or ruin a friendship. Or upset an innocent person.

As much as my mood has fluctuated over the past several months, one thing has remained fairly constant.

The anger I hold for what this fucker did to me has not lessened one bit.

So I'm wondering if I'm ever going to be truly healed. I don't think that I can do it while this anger rages inside me. If I'm ever going to get over this, I think I'll first have to forgive him for what he did. I just don't know if I'm capable of it.

Some things are just too hurtful. Some wounds go too deep. Forgiveness for this may not be possible. I may hate him for the rest of my life.

I hope that's not the case. I hope that I can somehow find the strength to forgive him. He just fucked up, after all. There was no malice, just stupidity. Forgiveness seems like such a small price to pay if it helps me regain my sanity.

If I'm ever going to be able to live with myself, I need to first forgive myself.

Sunday, July 3, 2005
posted by dave at 1:52 PM in category comics, daily, drink


So I went to this thing yesterday.

There was a lot of running. That's all I really want to say. I left at 6:00 and went to Polly's to eat something for the first time in 24 hours, then went home and slept.

After my nap I went down to Rich O's, successfully avoided the scene depicted above, and ended up sitting with PipeGuy and GrammarLady for a while. I hadn't seen these two in a while, and PipeGuy in particular seemed quite insistent on talking about you know what. I changed the subject as quickly as I could, but not before making sure that they knew that all of the things that they had imagined happening between her and me were just that - their imagination. Actually, theirs and about a million other people's.

After they left, DooRagGirl and FutureDude showed up.

I got the name FutureDude from an old Seinfeld episode, by the way.

I didn't drink anything worth noting last night. I think I was still reeling a little from the night before. Smithwick's and Spezial. Nice and tame.

FutureDude told me that my Monte Carlo doesn't really seem like a Dave kind of car. I'm not really sure how to take that.

I'm starting to feel another implosion coming on.

posted by dave at 12:05 AM in category drink, entertainment, travel

(Refer to the earlier entry for pictures.)

You know, people are going to read this and start to worry about me. There's really no need.

I arrived in Cincinnati a little after 2:00 in the afternoon, and pretty much immediately grabbed a cab to Newport. I certainly could have driven there but I was a little confused by the street layouts.

I had the cab take me to the Hofbrauhaus. Looking at their beer list, I was not particularly fired up, but I did manage to choose two beers, and both were surprisingly good.

Hofbrauhaus Newport Altmunchner Dunkelgold

(draft) Not a thing wrong with this beer. Not a thing noteworthy about it either. A little nutty, a little malty, a little tasty. Not my favorite style, but one of my favorites in this style.

Hofbrauhaus Newport Munich Weizen

(draft) There aren't many hefeweizens that I can say I actually like. This one I like. Sweet and fruity, with none of the citrus that usually ruins this style for me. Yummy.

While I was drinking my beers, and eating my lunch, I talked with the bartender about other places for good beer in the area. One of the places that he said was a "must see" was The Beer Sellar on the river.

I walked the two or three blocks to the place, and it was indeed quite nice. When I first walked in it was hard NOT to notice the huge array of taps. My erection quickly dissipated, however, when I realized that about 2/3 of the draft selection consisted of watery lagers. I ended up having a Young's Double Chocolate Stout, and then I selected the following from the bottled list:

Belhaven St. Andrews Ale

(bottle) Nobody else has said it, so I will. This beer had a greenish tint to it. There, I've said it. Aside from the odd coloring, this was a pretty decent beer. The bar had it listed as a smoked beer, so I was a little disappointed to find an ESB instead, but it was quite decent. Actually reminded me more of a Alt than an ESB.

Okay, so after two beers at the Hofbrauhaus, and two fairly strong beers at the Beer Sellar, I was kind of glad that I hadn't actually driven to Newport. I walked across this purple bridge (very cool to walk across the Ohio river) and back to my hotel to grab my Reds ticket.

Not much to say about the game itself. The Reds suck, and they lost. I was a huge baseball fan when I lived in Seattle, but since I've moved back to Indiana this local club just hasn't fielded a team worth rooting for.

So after the game I walked up to the Rock Bottom brewpub and had a little sampler array.

Rock Bottom English Mild

(draft) Smelled pretty good. The flavor and mouthfeel brought creamy bananas to mind. A pretty strange beer, but decent.

Rock Bottom White Tiger Wheat

(draft) I'm convinced that this is the same wheat beer that Hofbrauhaus is selling. Quite a good beer in a style that I don't normally care for.

Rock Bottom Cincinnati Porter

(draft) No aroma. Very faint coffee flavor. Very fizzy mouthfeel. Not very good.

Rock Bottom Brown Bear Brown

(draft) More malty than sweet, so a little unbalanced. Good head and lacing. Pretty good.

At this point things got a little surreal.

I was walking around downtown Cincinnati, looking for this Nicholson's place that I'd heard about, and I was having no luck at all. This homeless guy - a black man about fifty or so, and carrying a large flowery PURSE, approached me.

The first thing this guy said to me was "I promise I'm not looking to rob you, but I could really use some money. I want to buy myself a beer."

So what I ended up doing was enlisting this guy to help me find this Nicholson's place. I promised him that I'd buy him a beer if he kept to his word and didn't rob me.

So we struck a deal. He'd lead me to beer, and not rob me, and I in turn would buy him a beer.

His name was Leroy, and he was actually a pretty cool guy. He kept saying that he knew where Nicholson's was, but it soon became apparent that he had no clue. He did remember this place called O'Malley's, so that's where we went.

I had myself a Guinness, and I bought Leroy a Bud Light.

It was a little scary. Not because I was hanging out with a street person, but because I'm pretty sure that Leroy was the first black man to set foot in O'Malley's since its founding. We got a lot of pretty strange looks.

Leroy's purse probably didn't help matters either.

The O'Malley's bartender gave me directions to Nicholson's and, after we'd finished our beers, Leroy and I parted company. He said that he was seriously grateful to me for trusting him. I guess that trust between whites and blacks hasn't been that common in Cincinnati lately.

So I walked up to Nicholson's. I had myself a couple pints of Smithwick's then I went back to the hotel and slept.

In the morning I drove home.

I had a good time on this trip. I've got some thoughts in my head as to why. Maybe I'll put those thoughts into words later this weekend.

Saturday, July 2, 2005
posted by dave at 12:55 PM in category daily

DooRagGirl and FutureDude just came over and took my old washer/dryer unit.

Nice to finally get that thing out of my garage. The place seems positively cavernous now.

posted by dave at 12:50 PM in category pictures

I don't have time right now to get into my trip too much. I had fun. I drank beer. I'll post more later, but for now, here are some pics.

Buckheads Interior

This is just a picture of the interior of Buckhead's in Jeffersonville that was in my phone.

Rich O's Expansion

Rich O's Expansion

Rich O's Expansion

The last three pictures are of the new Rich O's expansion area. Roger was kind enough to take us on a little tour the other day.

Freaky Glass

Rich O's has been using these glasses a lot lately. The freak me out because they look frosted. But they're not.


The Hofbrauhaus in Newport. Pretty decent place, but LOUD.


These are what they call half-servings. These are 20 ounce glasses. The full-servings are like 5 gallons or something.

Hofbrauhaus Band

This polka band is why the place was so damn LOUD.

Beer Sellar exterior

The Hofbrauhouse guy told me about this place called the Beer Sellar on the river.

Beer Sellar interior

They have 60 taps. Wow.

Downriver from the bridge

I walked back to Cincinnati across this purple bridge. First time I've ever walked across the Ohio river. Pretty cool.

Down from the bridge

Looking down from said purple bridge.

Great American Ball Park

Great American Ball Park

Just a couple of views of the Reds' new ballpark. Not nearly as impressive as I'd been hearing, but shitloads better than Riverfront/Conergy was.


This Nicholson's place has a couple of dozen good beers on tap and what's touted as one of the best scotch whisky selections anywhere.

Friday, July 1, 2005
posted by dave at 11:55 AM in category travel

Okay, I'm leaving for Cincy now.

I'd thought about updating my little location map, but it's such a short drive that I could probably be there in the time it would take to update the map.

No entries tonight. Maybe tomorrow when I get back. There'll probably be pics as well.

Go Reds!

posted by dave at 11:06 AM in category ramblings

So last weekend I had this brilliant idea.

And when I say brilliant I really mean, once again, that I'm retarded.

Luckily, the universe decided to conspire against me, and so this particular idea will not be coming to fruition. The expense of fixing my air conditioning ensures that I will not be doing anything incredibly stupid this weekend.

I don't know what I could have been thinking. I saw that guy, how pathetic he was with his hopes and his dreams, how disappointed he was when they were smashed with those words:

Well that's, um, interesting.

Yet here I was preparing to become that guy. What an idiot I am.

Last night I kicked off my long holiday weekend by (surprise!) going to Rich O's. To drink I had a Mad Bitch and then a couple Guinnii. I spent the better part of the night with Koko in the living room area, but after a while I moved over to the island and talked with some PBDs for a while.

Just going through the motions, really. Relying on reflex to mimic social interaction.

I can really feel myself pulling away from everyone. Nobody is going to make me feel better, so what good are they? They ask me what's wrong, but they don't care - they just want the dirt. They tell me to smile, but they only want that so they will feel more comfortable around me. They tell me things that are supposed to make me feel better, but they're telling me the opposite of what I need to hear.

These people don't know me. Hell, I don't know me anymore.

But I don't think that's why I'm pulling away. I think I'm pulling away because that damn meteor is coming. That volcano is rumbling. Eventually my isolation will no longer be a choice. It will be a necessity. So I think I'm trying to lessen that blow by pulling away gradually. On my own terms and at my own pace.

I'm also pulling away from myself, if that makes any sense. I can't stand this sad fucker that I become sometimes. So I look for distractions. I read a book every day, I spend time with MixedSignalGirl. I flirt with VigilanteGirl. I walk around Disney World taking pictures. I go to a Reds game in Cincinnati. I do whatever I can, whatever I can think of, to fool myself into thinking that I have other things on my mind besides you know what.

I wonder if this is how crazy people are born.

mysterious gray box mysterious blue box mysterious red box mysterious green box mysterious gold box

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