Okay, this first picture is part of the front cover of the most recent issue of the Louisville Eccentric Observer newspaper, or LEO for short.

Saturday night, LaptopGirl sat on the sofa at Rich O's, looked at the cover, and excitedly announced that her car was there. And, by inference, so was she. "Right there!" she said. "Behind that white car, just behind the don't walk sign."

Now, I didn't have my glasses on at the time, so I couldn't really see what LaptopGirl was talking about. And, I'll admit, I was skeptical. I mean, what are the odds that she's be driving down that stretch of road right when LEO decided to take a picture?

Once I got home, however, I used my computer to scan and zoom the image. I found all the proof I needed. These next two images show, with advanced zooming technology, that LaptopGirl was right all along. It's definitely her.

It's really her! Right on the front page of the newspaper!

LaptopGirl is famous! It's about time!

But I'm left with a couple of nagging questions.

Why is bigfoot in the car with her, and what in the world is bigfoot doing to that poor chicken?

Okay, at the top of the picture is the exit ramp from I-265 to Grant Line Road in New Albany. It's a one-lane ramp, but people are in the habit of driving on the right shoulder if they're going to turn right. The people who are going straight or turning left usually get backed up at the stoplight when traffic is heavy, so people use the shoulder to get around those assholes.

I do this myself all the time, usually when I'm going to Rich O's after work. I was doing it last night on the way to Rich O's after Tumbleweed.

So I looked in my rearview mirror and there were two trucks behind me, at about where the 1 is on the picture. There was a newer truck directly behind me, and a shitty truck passing the newer truck on the shoulder.

Problem was, the dillhole in the newer truck was also moving onto the shoulder.

I don't think he actually hit the shitty truck, but he at least nearly ran him off into the ditch. Then both trucks swerved back onto the pavement. Then both trucks swerved in the other direction. Like ShittyTruckDude had decided to repay the favor, and was trying to run the DillHoleDude off the road.

I watched all this in my rearview mirror, then I turned right at the intersection. Both of the other trucks turned right as well. I guess they were about 50 yards behind me, at about where the 2 is, when they both stopped their trucks right in the middle of the road. ShittyTruckDude opened his door and, I'm assuming, loudly told DillHoleDude to have a nice day or something.

By the time I got to the intersection at the bottom of the picture, Both trucks had started moving again. DillHoleDude pulled into the gas station at where the 3 is. I was stuck at a red light, so I turned my head to watch. ShittyTruckDude went by me, turning right at the intersection, then he turned right again into the gas station parking lot.

This was getting good!

By this time, I could see that ShittyTruckDude had a business placard on the door of his truck. Larry's something or other. So I'll call him Larry from now on.

Larry parked his truck directly behind the dillhole, blocking him in. Then they both got out of their trucks and started yelling at each other. It only took a second for them to come to blows. I really couldn't tell who threw the first punch, and I couldn't tell how the fight ended because my light turned green and I had to start moving lest I cause my own road rage incident.

I'm sure that somebody called the cops. They were in an extremely public place.

Also, readers may have been wondering whether that's the haunted Burger King at the bottom of the picture.

Indeed it is.

I have now been told, by three different people, that the girl in this beer poster at Rich O's looks uncannily like Hatgirl.

I can no longer ignore these observations. So I figured I'd post this entry and let those readers who know HatGirl decide for themselves.

Above is the full poster. I will admit a slight resemblance if I ignore the fact that HatGirl no longer wears glasses and her hair is now much shorter than that.

Here's a close-up of the facial area of the poster:

Okay, it does seem to look like HatGirl. Except HatGirl's horns are not nearly so pronounced. This chick certainly has that hot librarian look that HatGirl is so famous for.

Here's a close-up of the assial area of the poster:

I, of course, would never ever look as HatGirl's ass. She's much too pure and sweet for me to sully her in that way. But, if I were to look at her ass, I'm pretty sure that (a) it would be even nicer than what is portrayed here, and (b) there would be no tail.

Anyway, NABC's artist Tony Beard does a heck of a job, doesn't he?

I spend a lot of my spare time, such as this time right now while I wait for the dryer to ding, playing this Euchre game on my computer.

I'm not going to try to explain what Euchre is except to say that it's a card game. If you already know the game, then no explanation is necessary. If you don't already know what it is, and I try to explain it, you're inevitably going to exclaim, "Oh! It's like Spades!"

And then I'll have to kill you.

It's not like fucking Spades.

Anyway, I play this Euchre game a lot. Me and a computerized version of my cat Happy partnered against computerized versions of my cats Buddy and Nugget.

Shut up, I am so not gay.

I must have played this game a million times. Way more than I've played it with actual humans. This might be a good thing.

See, Happy keeps pissing me off. He's constantly leading trump on defense. I think this strategy scored a point once, back in 2001 or 2002, but it had never worked before and it hasn't worked since. I'm constantly cussing out my computerized partner for this folly, but he won't listen. Because he isn't real.

I'm pretty sure that, if I ever have an actual human partner, and he or she leads trump on defense, I'll just have to kill him or her.

Okay, so the red X is about where I was standing, just outside the building where I work. To the left of the X, directly across the street and about 50 feet away, is the 21C Museum/Hotel. So, imagine my surprise when two girls, who were walking around looking lost, stopped and asked me how to get to the 21C Museum/Hotel.

Nice guy that I am, I gave them directions. "Go South and turn left at the light, then go East and turn left at the light, then go North and turn left at the light, then go West and turn left at the light, then go South. When you get back to this exact spot again, go across the street."

Then I had to get back inside to work.

I hope they found the place okay.

I couldn't think of anything to write about, so I just figured I'd cheat and post this picture I took yesterday when I was waiting for AlliGirl to drag her ass out of bed and call me.

If I was a kid again, I would totally climb that shit.

Sunday night, the pizzeria side of the NABC complex was open for some sporting event. Usually, they're closed on Sundays, so it was a special occasion, and I usually go. Just because it's such a rarity. I really couldn't care less about the sporting event.

Anyway, while I was on the way there, OddlyFamiliarGirl called. I'd texted her Friday night because I had a question about astrology. She's into that stuff, she's just not into returning text messages in a timely manner.

While I was talking, and driving, I happened to glance down at my odometer. I quickly said goodbye to OddlyFamiliarGirl and pulled off the road at the earliest opportunity.

The earliest opportunity, it turned out, wasn't quite early enough.

That there, even though it's really hard to see, is the odometer on my truck showing 100001 miles. I think it would have been cool to get a picture of it at exactly 100000 miles, but it wasn't meant to be.

Here's a close-up. Still hard to see, though.

Once at Sportstime The NABC Pizzeria, I had myself a couple pints of their Old Lightning Rod (490). The place was really dead. I guess nobody cared about the sporting event. Or maybe they were all at some cool party to which I wasn't invited.

So they closed the place down at 7:30 or so. I went over to Tucker's and had some cheesesticks and a glass of Guinness (1783). I'd been thinking about having a steak, but I changed my mind for some reason.

And that was Sunday. Pretty exciting, huh?

Monday wasn't anything special except that while I was at Rich O's The NABC Public House, waiting for my pizza and having a yummy NABC Old Lightning Rod (510), OddlyFamiliarGirl and NotHideousGirl came in for a bit. It had been a million jillion gazillion years since I'd seen OddlyFamiliarGirl. It had only been a couple of days since I'd last seen NotHideousGirl, but it always seems longer when it's her. I just thought I'd better mention seeing them, lest I get into trouble for some reason.

Then tonight it was really warm, so I sat out on my swing and enjoyed a Schlenkerla Urbock (286) and smiled a lot. I thought about all of the times I'd sat out there and thought about sad things, and about how much happier I am now. It really doesn't take much to make me happy. Even the tiniest things can do it, especially when the tiniest things are so incredibly huge to me.

Walking out my front door this morning, I was able to confirm what I'd suspected last night. It was a big tree.

I got pretty lucky, though. The tree barely reached my house.

This section of gutter is toast. I've got a guy coming out to see if there's any damage to my actual roof. He'll also give me an estimate on repairs. This is the same guy who replaced my entire roof a few years ago.

This hole in my yard is going to be a pain to fill, I just know it.

I got lucky.

Monday, as I mentioned before, I went to Rich O's after work. I got a pizza to go.

What I didn't mention before was that I got a special pizza. Or at least a special pizza box.

The kitchen staff, led by MisunderstoodGirl, all signed the thing.

Then a bunch of other people who were standing around signed the thing.

You can click this image to see a large version.

Last night I whipped this together and sent it to a few people. I mainly made it for RockGirl. She was looking for ideas on what to send her boyfriend.

RockGirl decoded it in about two seconds. HatGirl came very close right away, but may have given up. LaptopGirl is probably forwarding it to her attorney. WeirdGirl cheated, but she said it was only to check her answer.

I could have picked another image altogether for the third image. I don't know why I didn't.

...there was this stupid dog named Fido. Really original name, I know.

Fido liked to eat dead animals.

But, besides being stupid, Fido was also lazy as fuck, so he never bothered to actually hunt and kill anything. Nope, he'd just look for something that was already dead. Like road-kill and other gross stuff.

Then he'd bring the rotted carcass up onto the porch and gnaw on it for a while, until this kid named Dave took it from him and threw it in the trash barrel.

The moral of this story is that random dead things are disgusting.

I got to Rich O's early, about 7:20 or so. I hadn't really been planning to go at all. I was just going to sleep and wake up whenever I woke up. But then HatGirl texted me that she was at Rich O's. So I went to Rich O's, even though I was very tired, because, duh, HatGirl!

Also, Thursday I went there after work and saw this bit of loveliness on the board.

I asked Roger when he thought it might be available, and he guessed that it would be around the first of December.

So, imagine my surprise and glee when I went in on November 9th and saw this.

Cone Smoker was on tap! Yay!

I went into Rich O's proper and sat on the sofa. I said hello to everyone around me. MusicalYuppieDude, some dude without a nickname, LuckyFucker, HatGirl.

HatGirl!

Yay!

Then, after about 10 minutes, I realized that none of the bartenders were going to ask me what I wanted, so I went up to the bar and ordered my first Cone Smoker in 18 months or so (1936). It was a little darker than I remembered. More malty, and not as bitter. Quite yummy, though - that hadn't changed.

I ended up having a second one (1956) then most of a third one (1974) before my stupidity irritated me to the point where I became unfit for human company. At that point, I came home.

I don't feel like writing anything.

Tonight I looked through my photo album for a certain picture. I never did find it, and so I fear that it's in South Dakota, but I did find a few that were worth posting. So long as I don't care about the things I post being interesting. Plus, this counts as an entry for today. So, ha ha!.

I took that picture in the cafeteria at school, in 7th grade. On the left was FoxyGirl, my first love. Her friends were quite cute, too.

In the 8th grade, I'd completely gotten over FoxyGirl, and UFOGirl was my new obsession. She's the one on the left.

This picture has nothing to do with the previous two pictures. I've just always thought it was funny. That's my sister Dina. I still think of her with huge 80s hair like that. Also, when I was a kid, I didn't think that gay guys really existed. I thought they were just something that adults made up to scare little children. Like the boogie-man and Jesus. By the time I'd reached adulthood, I'd begun to suspect that gay men might actually exist. This picture provided absolute proof.

Here's the view from my deck. If you would indulge me for a minute, please. Ignore the rotting woodpile and the bird feeder, and just look at the tree. See anything? About ten feet up, on the left side?

Maybe, maybe not. I certainly notice something, whenever I'm out on my deck. Here's a closer look:

How about now? See that damn face, turned to the left? I'll tell you, once you notice it, as I did a couple of weeks ago, it's impossible to look at that tree without seeing that face.

One more picture, zoomed even more:

Now, to me, the face isn't as obvious as it was in the last picture. But it's still there and, at this magnification, I can see just a tiny hint of an eye. An eye looking right back at me.

This tree-face, along with Dilly the Armadillo, is one of my best friends now. I call him Treeface, which is a stupid, albeit descriptive name.

Upon seeing Treeface for the first time, I was of course reminded of all the Jesus and Virgin Mary sightings that keep showing up on the Internet. Pieces of toast, rust stains on sidewalks, stuff like that. I thought, for just a brief minute or two, about announcing that The Face Of Jesus had appeared on a tree in my backyard. I figured that maybe there'd be profit to be had.

But then I remembered, I certainly don't want those people here. Weeping and wailing at all hours of the day and night as they prostrated themselves all over my lawn.

I also thought about that Face on Mars that so conveniently was photoshopped away disappeared soon after it was first noticed. I thought that maybe Marsface had somehow relocated and changed his identity to Treeface. Via some kind of interplanetary Witness Protection Program, perhaps.

But I certainly couldn't disclose that theory to the world. The freaks who would show up then would be even worse than the bible thumpers. If you can imagine that.

I have a doghouse, out behind my detached garage. It came with the house. I haven't had a dog in a million years; certainly not since I bought this place. But that doghouse is out of the way. So I've just left it there. Out of sight, out of mind, as they say.

I was outside messing around today, and I took a good look at that doghouse. It's bigger than I'd remembered. And in a lot better shape. It's actually useable as long as you're a dog.

The last time I thought about that doghouse was back in July. I took NotHideousGirl to a pet store so she could buy a doghouse. I told her that I had one behind my garage, but I was pretty sure that it was too small for even her medium-sized dog. And besides, it must be a really crappy doghouse after sitting there behind my garage for all these years.

See? Not that bad at all.

I don't remember what NotHideousGirl paid for the doghouse she ended up buying, but it was certainly more than free would have been. So now I figure I screwed her out of whatever she spent, because I was too lazy to walk behind my garage until today.

I'm in a better mood now. Not that it was a great feat or anything, as there was nowhere to go except up. But still, it's something.

Today I was treated like shit. By someone who is, ostensibly at least, a friend of mine. I may have deserved it. I almost always deserve it.

And you know what?

It was okay.

I got over it.

Also, maybe to make up for being treated like shit, I made a brand-new friend today. Here's a picture:

This is Dilly. He's an Armadillo. I never saw him before today. He stands on a shelf at Rich O's, and he moves his head up and down and side to side, following the whim of the air currents in the room.

He's fucking awesome, and I may steal him.

Also, I'm feeding these dogs while my friend is on vacation. One of the dogs is a major pain in the ass. It won't let me even think about petting either of the other dogs. If I try, it starts growling and biting. It's an asshole.

Also, my friend's cat is still afraid of me. But for the last two days I've given it kitty treats, and it's at least eating them. After I've left the room, of course. Maybe, in a zillion years or so, I'll be able to actually pet that cat. This has become my new goal in life.

Also, I'm pretty sure that, after a week of taking care of this 8,000,000 gallon aquarium with its $8,000,000 worth of exotic fish, I'll qualify for a commercial pilot's license. That will be cool, I think. Chicks dig pilots.

Also, I really need to take a break for lunch tomorrow. I hope I can spare the time away from work. I want to see BikerGirl and NotHideousGirl. And I really should talk to NotHideousGirl before it's too late to talk. If it's not too late already.

Also, they're having a sex clinic or something across the street from my work tomorrow. I don't know much more than that, but the information is here.

I guess that's it.

Dedicated stalkers will, of course, recognize that this is where I live.

Between my house and my detached garage? That little structure is my swing. One of my favorite things to do on the warm nights is sit on my swing and contemplate various things. So, Saturday night, hoping to somewhat salvage my mood, I got myself a Left Hand Smoke Jumper (100) and went out to my swing to do some contemplating.

Right behind my swing is a tree. You can probably see it in the picture. Anyway, As I sat down, I heard this rustling from under the tree. My eyes hadn't adjusted to the dark yet, so I couldn't see anything. Then I heard the rustling again. Closer this time.

"Kitty kitty?" I asked hopefully.

Then there was more rustling, and something, some thing ran under the swing and across my driveway to the front of the house.

And it wasn't no damn kitty.

From what little I could see about its size and the way it moved, I'm guessing it was a big raccoon. Or a small grizzly bear.

Yes, it freaked me out a little. Rabies probably wouldn't be a fun way to die. Being mauled and/or eaten probably wouldn't be that great either.

Okay, when I was sitting at Famous Dave's this evening, having some yummy catfish tenders and a yummy Newcastle (7327), I noticed this coaster under my glass:

This struck me as being really funny. Because whoever made this up probably thought it was a good slogan which would cause lots of Miller Lite to be sold.

Anyway, I turned over the coaster, and found this:

And this struck me as being even funnier. Because saying Best American-Style Light Lager is kinda like saying swilliest swill or pissiest piss.

Somebody needs to tell these Miller people, who keep bragging about this award, somebody needs to tell them that American-Style Light Lager is NOT a classification.

It's a diagnosis.

I stole this from somebody at fark.com the other day. I wasn't going to post it because of copyright concerns, but it's just so damn fitting and accurate that I couldn't resist.

Just like I couldn't resist going to Dina's today to see her new kitten.

A new kitten!

Yay!

It is, of course, a comfort kitty, which is one of the best kinds of kitties. It's a Siamese, and it's about the size of my hand, and it likes to meow and climb and sit on people.

I could have stayed and petted that kitten for weeks, but I think that it might have become awkward for my sister's family after a week or so. So I tore myself away, and I tore the kitten from my lap, and I went to Hooter's in Clarksville.

While there, I had some yummy mozzarella sticks and three yummy glasses of Newcastle (7107), then I bought some crab legs and brought them home.

I never said that this would be an interesting entry.

After a quick meal at Wendy's, I got to Rich O's at 8:45 or so. The place was packed. Seemed to be an even mix of regulars and strangers.

Oh yeah, they finally got their order of Schlenkerla beers in. This was good news, but it caused me a bit of a problem right off the bat.

See, Rogue Chocolate Stout was still on tap. And I have a contractual obligation with my liver to drink Rogue Chocolate Stout whenever it's available. But I really wanted to have a couple of Schlenkerlas at the end of the night, and I knew that there'd be much clashing of flavors if I had the Rogue first.

So I broke my contract, and I had a couple Dirty Helens (202). I sat at the bar and talked to some dude who should probably get a nickname, I got a text message from NotHideousGirl featuring the drunk womanese word wrAnfo and deciphering that word occupied a good part of my brain for the rest of the night. I still haven't figured it out.

I talked to MusicalYuppieDude and TremensGirl for a bit, and some people cleared out from the sofa so I moved over there. I talked with a chick who I shall call FirstGirl. Not, as one might suspect, because she was my first girl, but rather because she was the first person to ever talk to me at Rich O's after I started hanging out there. Anyway, FirstGirl was puzzling over her own little mystery.

She'd found this napkin on the table, and her brain was about to explode from trying to figure out its meaning. We spent some time trying to figure out the napkin, and we spent some time trying to figure out NotHideousGirl's wrAnfo, but we never did decipher either one of them.

My next beer was a Schlenkerla Weizen (222), and I overlapped the last part of that with a Schlenkerla Marzen (547). I wanted to do a side-by-side comparison of the two. I don't think that I can really declare a winner. The Weizen is certainly lighter, and it would make a better session beer than the Marzen. But the Marzen is flat-out yummy.

Even though the Marzen was flat-out yummy, I only drank about 8 ounces of it before I cut myself off and then snuck out and came home. I don't think I missed much, because they'd declared last call at 11:30 even though the place was still totally packed.

Wednesday night, when I was waiting to see if BikerGirl was going to join me for dinner, I took this picture. On the left is the building where NotHideousGirl works. On the right is a building where irrelevant people work.

Two fucking fifty three. In the morning.

I'm so tired. I've got so much crap to do tomorrow. I've got to work early Sunday morning.

Basically, I'm fucked.

I won't get anything done tomorrow before I go to my nephew's graduation party. I won't be able to get to sleep after the party, so I'll go to Rich O's or something. Then I'll be up all damn night until it's time to start work.

That's when I'll suddenly get tired.

Anyway.

Tonight was kinda fun. I got to Rich O's a little after 8:00. Had a Dirty Helen (122), then TremensGirl and I split a bottle of Allagash Grand Cru (63), then I had another Dirty Helen (142). When I first arrived, NotHideousGirl was there at the island with OddlyFamilarGirl and MusicalYuppieDude. I joined them for a while, but eventually I moved to the living room for my Allagash. It was a little strange to have to share NotHideousGirl with a group. I've become accustomed to having her all to myself during our lunches. I guess I've been spoiled. As has she.

After a while, ArtGirl came in, and I pretty much spent the rest of the night waiting for opportunities to talk to her, and then taking full advantage of those opportunities once they arose. Had her completely to myself for an hour or so at one point, then we moved to the red room and sat with some people there. That's why I was out so damn late. I wanted to leave, but ArtGirl was totally kidnapping me and keeping me trapped in the corner. But it wasn't so bad. She's warm. She's pretty and nice. So of course she has a boyfriend.

ArtGirl and I not only closed out Rich O's, we stayed almost three hours after closing. Not even during the days of LaptopGirl have I ever stayed there so late. I felt pretty guilty about it, but one of the owners was right there with us, so I guess it was okay or she'd have kicked us out a long time ago.

Man, I need to get some sleep. I'm rambling.

---

Oh gee wowie zowie. I managed a whopping four hours of sleep. Damn circadian rhythms.

There's some shit I forgot to mention about last night.

At one point this one dude and I were talking about mechanical engineers. Specifically, we were talking about how much they piss us off by being so damn smart. I mean, a mechanical engineer could have told us whether our little tower was stable without having to build the thing.

At one point I found myself back at the island with MusicalYuppieDude and PillowDude and PorterBob. They were sampling some beer. I had a very small sample myself.

Nøgne Ø Imperial Stout (2)

(bottle) Black with nice brown foam. Aroma of roasted malts and not much else. Flavor of roasted malts and not much else. Quite a bit of malt bitterness at the finish. Everyone around me was raving about how great this beer was, but I didn't share their enthusiasm. Decent, but no better than that.

ArtGirl asked me how old I am, and for some reason I told her. When she didn't run away screaming, that earned her some points. Not that she needed any more points.

I also found myself writing down my website address for her. I don't know why I do crap like that. Now she might actually read some of this drivel. Just in case, Hi ArtGirl!

From the other day at lunch, incontrovertible proof that NotHideousGirl is strange.

A couple of weeks ago, NotHideousGirl and I both found ourselves missing HatGirl terribly. This picture was taken to document our sadness.

Okay, what the fuck is this thing? It's on the shelf at Rich O's.

NotHideousGirl and BikerGirl missed me a lot while I was in Las Vegas. I like to think that they consoled each other in various ways.

The conference ended at 1:00 on Thursday, which was quite cool because it gave me some time to attempt to take a nap. It would have been even cooler if the nap had actually happened, but the construction going on in the room above me prevented any Zs from being caught.

I managed to snap a picture of the construction equipment as it was heading to the room above me. How they fit all that shit into one room I'll never know:

After I gave up on sleep, I took my last bottle of Alaskan Smoked Porter down to the race and sports book place. They were perfectly willing to let me use one of their glasses, but they said that some red tape bullshit rule prevented them from opening the bottle. Then this one dude took pity on me and showed me how to open a beer bottle using a lighter. I've already mentioned learning this valuable skill. The Alaskan Smoked Porter (589) was yummy, by the way.

Then I had a Fat Tire (587) and played video poker and glared at my phone for an hour or so. See, I maybe had a date. I wasn't even going to mention it here, in case it didn't pan out. But I had a maybe date with StupidGirl, because my new best friend had told his girlfriend that I was in town, and then his girlfriend had told StupidGirl. She finally called me at 6:00 or so with the excuse that she just got off work.

For those joining me late, I realize that StupidGirl is a terrible nickname. I would change it to SweetGirl, but StupidGirl actually likes her nickname. She says that it gives her a story to tell. So the nickname stays.

Anyway.

StupidGirl and went up to Fremont Street and dicked around there for a while. We were going to have dinner at Main Street Station's brewpub, but they were out of their Triple 7 Porter, and all of their other beers suck. So, in protest, we ate at this Grill Bar Saloon place. I drank Diet Coke, and StupidGirl had some foo-foo thing.

After dinner, we went back to The Strip and took in the volcano at the Mirage and the fountains at Bellagio. Walking down The Strip holding hands with a pretty girl is still one of life's perfect moments for me. I wish I could do it every night. In front of the Bellagio fountains there was much slaking. I think it was all the gushing of the water that gave us the idea. Some lady took our picture slaking in front of the fountains. I gave her my email address so she can send me a copy.

This part is probably going to seem pretty lame, but nothing reportable happened beyond that. I really like StupidGirl, and I'm going to leave it there. Maybe next time I'm in Las Vegas...

Here's some crap I wrote Wednesday night.

Another Las Vegas Wednesday. Another night when I get to realize that it's the last full night I'll have here for months. Another night when I get to wonder if I could have done more with my week. Well, this time it's more like a certainty than a wondering, and it's more like a lifetime than a week. But, that's just my mood right now. It fluctuates, in case you haven't noticed.

I'm sitting at the Tilted Kilt, drinking a yummy Tilted Kilt (656) and just kind of soaking in the place for the last time. See, it's going away. Probably late this Summer. And I won't be back until November, so tonight is the last time I'll sit at this bar. This sucks. This place has been my main escape and distraction during an awful lot of troubled times. Las Vegas just won't be the same for me without it.

Also, I really like the free shows here at The Rio. Here's a crappy picture:

See, that kind of thing almost never happens back at Rich O's. Not even for DaveFest. Plus, it's kinda funny to see five of the gayest guys on Earth, trying to feign interest as they dance/grope five of the hottest girls on Earth.

Much time passes...

I've stayed here at the Tilted Kilt longer than I'd planned, and I've had more glasses of Tilted Kilt (720) than I'd planned, because I've realized that when this bar goes away, it takes this beer with it. This makes me even more sad, hence the staying and the drinking.

Monday morning, circadian rhythms forced me awake a little before 4:00, so I played some video poker and drank diet cokes for a few hours. Yes, I rock.

Then I remembered a couple of cool things. First, there's a free shuttle running between The Rio and Harrah's. Second, there's a monorail servicing the strip.

So, guess what I did.

Guess where I am now? I mean now as I write this, not now as you read it.

I'm at The Rio. Yay! One thousand DavePoints for anyone who guessed correctly.

I love The Rio. It's a much better place for someone like me. The Venetian is for millionaires. So I went to The Rio, and I immediately felt better. Just being in the place did me worlds of good. And then, and then I saw something that lifted my spirits to new heights.

The Tilted Kilt is still there! Yay! I'd heard that it might be gone.

They weren't open yet though, so I couldn't go in, and I couldn't quite read the taps to see what was available. I'll be going there Tuesday night though.

---

I wrote the above stuff sitting at The Rio. Now I'm back in my hotel room and it's pretty damn late and I'm wide awake but little hung-over.

I'm hung-over because, when I left The Rio, I went to The Freakin' Frog. First, I took the free shuttle back to Harrah's. Then I bought a three-day pass for the monorail. Then I took said monorail to The MGM Grand. Then I took a cab to The Freakin' Frog.

Their draft list didn't impress me too much today, but I got over it quickly enough, as soon as I confirmed that they had Alaskan Smoked Porter in bottles. They had four bottles left, and I bought all four, and I drank three of them (567).

And that's why I'm a little hung-over.

The fourth bottle is here in my hotel room. I haven't decided if I'm going to drink it this week or if I want to try to figure out a way to get it home.

A couple of weeks ago I mentioned that StoreGirl and I had been photographed and interviewed by a dude from one of the local free newspapers. Well some of the fruits of that session made it into this week's issue.

Apparently, space was an issue, because none of the stuff about how awesome I am made into the final article. I guess they decided to cut out the obvious stuff first.

But still, pretty cool.

And I've thought about it, and I've decided that I will continue to associate with the little people in my life. I won't let this new fame go to my head.

I will, however, still accept groupies.

Malheur Dark Brut
Malheur Brut Reserve
Gouden Carolus Grand Cru
Gouden Carolus Classic
Malheur 10
Abbaye d'Aulne Triple Brune
Gouden Carolus Triple
Konigshoeven Quad

Except for the Koningshoeven, these are all new beers for me.

Rogue Ten Thousand Brew Ale
Allagash Curieux
Rodenbach
Rodenbach Grand Cru
Ommegang Three Philosophers
Avert The Reverend
Three Floyds Behemoth
Canaster Winterscotch
Cassissona
Delirium Tremens

All new to me except The Reverend and Delirium Tremens.

And I actually have even more waiting to be enjoyed. I just didn't want to post a picture of everything because I didn't want people to think I was a freak.

This is what happens when I'm in a weird mood.

I can't focus on any thoughts long enough to coax a decent entry out of them.

So you get this crap.

---

A former coworker of mine died yesterday. He was 35, and he was a cool guy. So on Friday I'll go to the visitation, even though I didn't really know him that well.

---

Rogue Smoke is finally available at Rich O's. Yay!

---

I forgot to mention that, the other night, HatGirl graduated from college. In addition, she surprised absolutely nobody by making the dean's list.

Yay for HatGirl!

---

For the next two days there's an art show at Rich O's. I already bought one of NotHideousGirl's paintings:

We've talked about this painting over lunch several times. I just had to have it. But this time I'm going to pay her in person, because she still hasn't got her money from the last one I bought, when I paid the guy running the art show.

---

Oh yeah, at the art show tonight it was movie night. I didn't stay for it, but I read about it. One of the films is about Darfur, so that's probably the feel-good movie of the year. Not.

---

You know how to piss off a stray cat?

Well, I'll tell you.

Go outside at night, and watch said stray run and hide underneath a pine tree with low-hanging branches. Then, walk right up to the tree and call out, "Hi there kitty! It's so nice to see you!"

See, it pisses the strays off because they think they're being so sneaky and feral.

---

I have no idea what happened to SassyGirl and JauntyGirl. They're probably off on another one of their adventures.

---

TremensGirl showed up at Rich O's this evening with red hair. She then claimed that it's always been red. I'm not fooled though.

---

I have to pee.

Before:

After:

So why do I keep spouting the same drivel over and over, even long after it's become perfectly clear that it does more harm than good?

Because it feels right in my head. Because it fits onto my heart like a glove fits onto my hand. Because it belongs.

Because one night I leaned against a railing, and I looked at her as she sat and cried on this little wall...

and I broke through the clouds, and I saw how far I was going to fall. And I knew, right then and right there that my life would never be the same again.

That's why I keep writing crap like this.

Because I was right. Everything changed then.

Anyway.

My next stop, after Buffalo Wild Wings, wasn't the BBC after all. It was the Haunted Highland Tap Room. I had a couple Newcastles (4682) and had a little séance. Funny, we only came here once, but this place seems as haunted as any other. Maybe even more than Rich O's, because there are fewer memories competing for attention.

Next, I went over to The Pub. Actually I went to Hard Rock first, but CoolHairGirl wasn't working, so I went to The Pub and had yet another Newcastle (4702) and talked to BikerGirl for a while.

My sister Dina called to see if I was going to Rich O's later. I hadn't really made any plans to go there, but I told her that I'd meet her in about an hour. I invited BikerGirl to come to Rich O's when she got off work at 8:00. I wrote down directions for her, just in case. I think going to Indiana was about tenth on her list of possibilities for the evening.

But at least she didn't laugh when I invited her. So that was cool.

Got to Rich O's a little after 7:00. I sat at the kiddie table with Dina and had another Diet Coke. Her husband Kenny came in after a while. BadPickleGirl came in with some dude, but I think it was just a coincidence that they came in. Unless she's stalking me.

Eventually, I had a bottle of yummy Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbier (1805). Once everyone else had left, I waited until about 9:30 to see if BikerGirl was going to show up.

Then, some fucked-up shit happened.

Then, I stopped at White Castle on the way home.

I'm easily amused. Found this at kottke.org.

This is the type of fame for which Nugget is destined. I'm sure of it.

This first one was a week ago Friday. I was with NotHideousGirl and I tried on her glasses. So this blurry images is probably what she saw when she looked at me. Both because she'd been drinking and because I had her glasses on.

This one we took this past Friday night. I then sent it to HatGirl, hoping that it would inspire her to show up and give me someone who didn't hate all men to talk to. My plan didn't work.

I found this Face Transformer site that lets you do shit to pictures. Here are some of the manglings it came up with for my picture:

Now this is exactly the kind of thing for which I wanted a camera in my phone!

Sunday I was sitting at a red light, minding my own business, and there was suddenly a loud crash to my left.

The sign says "No left turn" and it seems a lot bigger when it's lying on the ground than it does when it's 20 feet in the air.

I bet it's a heavy fucker too.

I wish I'd been thinking more clearly. I could have jumped out of my truck and grabbed the sign. Then I could have mounted it in my basement or something.

There are way too many people making left turns in my basement.

RIght after I got my new Blackberry I took this picture of the stuff adorning my desk. Many of these are things that I've posted here before.

From top to bottom, then left to right:

My cat Buddy after he got shaved.

An image I made of three of me on my couch.

BadPickleGirl and me and BadPickleGirl's cousin at Rich O's.

My sister Dina's kids.

MisunderstoodGirl wearing a shirt that says I agree with Dave.

A picture of HatGirl that I really like.

A whirlpool that RockGirl drew. I think of it as my department's unofficial logo.

A little saying I got from somewhere. People who stay calm all the time just don't have all the facts.

A picture I took at the Grand Canyon in August 2006.

Another Grand Canyon picture.

Me and SassyGirl at DaveFest last Summer. This picture also hangs on the wall at Rich O's.

A picture of HatGirl's ear. This picture doesn't taste very good.

And now, that picture I took of NotHideousGirl yesterday is up there too, just below the HatGirl picture.

I had fun today.

First, I overslept. So that was cool.

Then at lunch - Newcastle (3334) - I ran into NotHideousGirl. First time I've seen her since HatGirl's birthday party in December. So that was way cool.

Then we went to Borders so she could buy some CDs. This was about as useful as taking a blind man to the paint store, but I went anyway.

Oh yeah, I got a new Blackberry yesterday, and guess what.

It's got a camera!

Yay!

First time I've had a camera phone in months.

NotHideousGirl was kind enough to let me test the camera on her, and post the results here.

So that was fun. It was a little strange to leave a bookstore without any books though.

Then, after work, I went to the local hardware store to buy a bunch of PVC shit for my sink. I figured that I'd go ahead and give it a try, and then if I screwed it up Kenny could always come and laugh at me as he corrected my mistakes.

Well, I managed to twist the PVC stuff around enough so that now I have actual drains running from my sink. I also managed to install and wire up the new garbage disposal without killing myself.

Anyway, here's the old ugly sink.

And here's the new sink. Ta da!

Just so none of you people start to think I'm infallible, here's what's under the new sink.

Those bowls are because the new drain lines leak. Not very much, but enough to be annoying. So I called Kenny and apparently I need some Plumber's Putty to put between the sink and the traps. Either Kenny or I will get some of that, we'll tear everything apart and reinstall using the putty where appropriate, and then this project will be done!

Except that I think I need Kenny to use one of those snake thingies on the drain line that goes into the wall. Everything still drains pretty slowly.

And the garbage disposal works too! Nugget is scared of it.

Every now and then I'll get a bug up my butt about my house.

There are about a zillion things that I hate about this house. Cosmetic stuff mostly. But back when I bought the place, I was making a lot more money, so I figured I'd just throw cash at the ugliness and make it all go away.

But no! Once the Internet bubble burst, I had to get a real job, at substantially less pay.

And so the ugliness remains.

Flowery wallpaper.

Striped wallpaper.

Grotesque light fixtures.

Brown shag carpeting.

Hideous cabinets and countertops.

Ugh. Even all the dark brown doors and trim are ugly and dated.

And I didn't even show you the light fixture in my bedroom, or the floor in my bathroom or bedroom, or the painted wall in my downstairs bathroom. Had I posted pictures of those things, I'd probably have been shut down for running an obscene website. And I didn't want to take that chance.

Anyway.

Friday I got this bug up my butt to do something, anything to reduce the ugliness.

So I decided to replace my kitchen sink and faucet. While I was at it, I figured, I'd get a garbage disposal too.

Yesterday, I had my sister's husband Kenny over to look at my sink area and tell me what I'd need to buy. He's a professional Mr. Fixit.

Then I went to Lowe's and spent an hour or so picking out stuff that (a) looked cool, and (b) wasn't laughably expensive.

Did you know that there are $600 kitchen faucets? That's just ridiculous to me. Who needs a fucking $600 kitchen faucet?

So I piled all the shit in my cart and, when I went to pay for it, they declined my card.

I became a little concerned. There certainly should have been money in my account. I mean, Thursday was payday I hadn't taken any money out for at least a week.

But oh well. I figured that I'd call my bank on Monday and see what the deal was. I apologized to the checkout girl and went home.

Then last night I had the brilliant idea that maybe they'd declined my card because they'd tried to run it through as debit instead of credit. The card can be charged either way, but there's a $200 daily limit on debit transactions.

So I went back to Lowe's today. I picked out all the same shit I'd picked on Saturday.

This time I told them to run it through as credit instead of debit.

It fucking came back declined again.

Fuck!

After I'd apologized to the second checkout girl in as many days, I left scratching my head. What if something was going on with my checking account?

I needed to find out. So I went to my bank, and did a balance inquiry at the ATM thingy.

There's almost $3000 in my account right now. That seems about right to me.

The shit I was trying to buy was $580 or something like that.

Now I'm no math whiz, but I'm pretty sure that $580 is less than $3000. I'm also pretty sure that $580 is less than the $1000 daily limit on credit transactions.

So I don't know what's going on. All I know for sure is that everything in my house is still ugly. Including my kitchen sink.

Okay, so that one particular cool thing didn't happen. But it was still a pretty nice night. I got to relax and look at pretty girls. And I got to wear my cool new t-shirt.

They're having a big S.I.G.H. convention around here somewhere, and all the girls seemed to have picked Rich O's as the place to unwind. From their hotness seminars or pillow fight tournaments or whatever they do at those things.

So the place was packed, but there were at least ten very pretty girls there. This is at least nine and a half more than usual. Pretty girls definitely make the crowd bearable.

When I first arrived, I sat on the loveseat. Some semi-acquaintances were scattered about the rest of the living room area. They know SassyGirl, so I told them about how I'd finally been getting emails from her. We talked for a bit about the good old days of lesbian mud-wrestling parties. I had an NABC Old Lightning Rod (190).

After a bit I moved up to the island and sat with MusicalYuppieDude and some PBDs. My second beer was a Wostyntje (119).

CoffeeDude and WomanRepellant came in at some point. I was talking to them when the President of S.I.G.H. arrived with some dork. I almost lost all self-control, and it's only thanks to CoffeeDude's impromptu therapeutic intervention that I kept from making a complete fool of myself. I did, however, have a Rogue Smoke (450) and then couple of Diet Cokes to kill some time so I could keep looking at Madam President when the opportunities arose.

Oh yeah, at 10:00 or so I drunk-emailed BadPickleGirl. This is always a waste of time because she won't even get the thing until Monday.

Anyway, I've been developing this theory about beer. About me and beer actually. There are some beers, and some combinations of beers, that I simply should not be drinking.

Last night I stumbled on one such combination.

I felt fine when I left Rich O's, at about midnight. I spent some time digging around for some batteries for my camera. Then I took those two awesome pictures above.

Right after I took the second picture, I fell back against the wall, and I was immediately drunk.

Spinning room drunk.

Pretty damn weird.

So I didn't get to practice pool last night. Instead I went to bed and hoped that I wouldn't get sick.

I didn't.

Tonight, for a change of pace, I had a beer. This was the fourth bottle that I took to BadPickleGirl's house on Friday. We didn't get to it then, so I got to it tonight.

Bluegrass Mephistopheles Metamorphosis (25)

(bottle) No foam at all. I mean none. I've seen tap water with a bigger head. Other than that, poured a slightly hazy orange. Taste was, as expected, fairly flat and generic. Yeasty and bland in flavor, this beer did grow on me as time went by. I'd love to try this in draft form someday. Maybe there'll be some fizz then.

I think, instead of trying to tackle any of my new entry ideas, I think I'll just quote from my friend NotHideousGirl's blog:

Dave Siltz is the weirdest normal person I know, and I love him for it.

In response to that, I'll say this:

Kat is the most beautiful girl I know, who doesn't act like she's beautiful, and I love her for it.

Finally, my sister Neisha accused me the other day of killing and eating my cat Nugget, since she hasn't seen him in years and years. As proof that Nugget still lives, I present this picture (taken tonight) of him in all his fatness, along with the scratching post that he's slowly but surely shredding to bits:

I was dicking around with this today, showing a coworker the route to the expressway, and I noticed that the resolution seemed to have improved. Intrigued, I directed the application to a little town that had always been nothing more than a blur of pixels.

Now it's much better. I guess Google Earth has updated its database with new images.

Very cool.

...on Lost! are real dicks.

Except for this chick. I have a massive crush on her:

Probably in part because she used to be this girl on Malcolm in the Middle and she's the one that started the whole perverted brunettes with glasses thing for me.

If only there'd been a dorky girl like that when I was in school.

Sorry, ladies, but your dreams have not come true.

There are not three of me.

I got this idea from netmale a long time ago and completely forgot about it until MixedSignalGirl "found" some scrubs for me at work today.

Man I'm so behind on these things. But I don't feel like writing so I'm just going to rush through this.

---

On Tuesday, I went to Rich O's to see SassyGirl and JauntyGirl. This could be the last time I get to see them in that place, so it was kind of bittersweet for me. I took a picture to remember them by.

To drink, I had myself three glasses of Delirium Tremens (712).

After the girls left I stuck around and talked to CoffeeDude for quite a while. I think I bored him with my stories, but at least we didn't talk about coffee. I also tried to get MixedSignalGirl (yes, we're talking again) to come but we got into a fight instead.

---

Wednesday night, I was in Broomfield Colorado. There was a brewpub right next to my hotel. I think it was called CB & Potts, but it was the Big horn Brewery too. Or maybe Ram brewing. It was quite confusing.

Anyway, I had myself a yummy steak dinner, and with it I had a couple of beers:

Big Horn Hefeweizen (20)

(draft) Served in a glass that was way too cold. There were ice crystals in the beer. Once it had thawed out a little, this was a pretty good beer. Very much a German-style wheat, but with the tiniest little bite of hops in the finish. I liked it.

Big Horn Total Disorder Porter (20)

(draft) Very nice. Chocolately and roasty and malty. If this was available near my home it would be one of my favorite beers.

While I was there I talked to the hot bartender and I had several phone conversations with MixedSignalGirl. To drink, I had a 24-ounce glass of Fat Tire (403) and then a regular 16-ounce glass of Newcastle (2348). Then I ordered some chicken tenders and went back to the hotel.

---

Thursday I didn't drink anything. I didn't do anything except go to class and then read a book in my room.

---

Friday I didn't drink anything. All I did was check my email every 10 seconds and try to avoid having a total meltdown.

---

Saturday I flew back home.

After a nice meal at the haunted Burger King, I went to Rich O's and got there at about 8:00. I waved at MusicalHippyDude and GlassesGirl who were sitting at the island, and I sat in the throne and talked to a couple that seemed to know me. I will now christen then Scarecrow and HopGirl.

I had a Delirium Tremens (722).

After a while everybody around me started talking about boring stuff so I moved up to the island. This was about the time I had another Delirium Tremens (732).

Then those people started talking about boring stuff. I realized that I was just bored and that it had nothing to do with anyone else. So I texted HatGirl on the off-chance that she'd come to Rich O's.

Well it worked! I got a reply back that they'd be coming in! Yay!

I think that this was about when I ordered my third Delirium Tremens (742).

After a million years, during which I tried somewhat successfully to lure MusicalHippyDude into interesting conversations, HatGirl came in to say "Hi." She and her sister and LuckyFucker were sitting out front. So after a suitable interval I went out to sit with them.

HatGirl!

Yay!

I spent the next hour or two migrating back and forth between the island and the front area.

Sometime during that period I had a fourth Delirium Tremens (752).

After HatGirl and company left I moved back to the island for good. WomanRepellant had snuck in at some point, as had Bubbles and NoNickNameDude. So I finished my beer and talked with them for a while. I also had a couple Diet Cokes to give the beer time to wear off.

I came home at 12:30 or so.

I feel kind of silly writing this, my Saturday beer report. More than that, I feel a little bit guilty about writing it. 'Cause see, I can't or at least won't write about what was important. And I don't want those things that I do write to take away from the significance of those things that I can't or won't write about.

Did you ever see a shooting star so brilliant that it just took your breath away, and you just stood there watching it blaze across the sky, so awestruck that you forgot to make a wish? Did you ever then realize that you're wish had come true anyway?

Yeah, well me too.

Saturday I needed to get to Rich O's early. It was imperative. There were people that were going to be there and I needed to have suitable seating available.

So I left my house a little before 7:00. I was on my way to the haunted Burger King to get something to eat when HatGirl went zooming by me, honking her horn and giving me a heart attack. HatGirl was one of the people I was supposed to meet at Rich O's. One of the reasons that I needed to be there early. But she called to let me know that she'd be later than expected. Didn't matter though. I still had to find suitable seating. There was another.

I grabbed a quick meal and got to Rich O's at 7:30. There were already strangers in the living room area. Fuck! The island was empty though so I went to sit over there, but I glanced at the bar and saw MisunderstoodGirl. That was a very nice surprise. I sat at the bar and talked with MisunderstoodGirl and QuietDude. I also kept looking behind me to see if the fuckheads would be leaving any time soon. It didn't look good. They seemed to be well entrenched.

My first beer was a Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbier (1483). Actually, so were my second and third beers (1523).

After much discussion about such lofty topics as boobs and lesbian mail-order brides, some other stuff happened. This is the part where I shut up for a while.

After that, HatGirl and LuckyFucker came in.

HatGirl!

Yay!

MisunderstoodGirl left, so I moved down one spot and HatGirl and LuckyFucker joined me and QuietDude at the bar. I continued to turn around to check out the living room area. Actually I increased the frequency of this quite a bit. I really really really wanted to move over there.

(Seriously, I really did. The opportunity just never presented itself. I was not afraid.)

But it was not to be. The fuckheads had given their seats to some new arrivals, and so I spent the entire night sitting at the bar.

As the night at Rich O's wore to a close, the living room area did eventually empty out. Not that I cared by that point. I and QuietDude and FutureDude and DooRagGirl all moved over there.

Oh yeah, HatGirl and LuckyFucker had gone, and DooRagGirl had come in. Try to keep up please.

Then they closed Rich O's up. The four of us went over to this Mac's place that I don't like. They had a band that was covering Pink Floyd and AC/DC though, so that was pretty cool. It was quite loud there. I had a Newcastle (2308) and we sat around for an hour or so basically shouting at each other because that was the only way to be heard.

At 2:00 or so, DooRagGirl suggested that we all go to her house where we could hear ourselves think and hear each other talk. I thought that this was a great idea because we'd been talking about her pussy and I'd become obsessed with the idea of getting to pet it.

So we all went over to DooRagGirl and FutureDude's house, and I got to pet her pussy. Several times in fact. I'd heard some scary stories about her pussy but it was really quite nice. You just have to know how to treat them.

I also got to meet the famous Harry the dog.

I also had another Newcastle (2320).

At about 4:00 or so I left and went to White Castle then came home.

We'll see how well this works. My laptop is broken, and I'm sitting in the New York New York casino, in the shopping area. At a little table with a pizza design painted on top. I'm sitting under a fake tree, surrounded by fake streets. Above the storefronts are the illusions of second and third story windows. It's all fake, but still very convincing. I half expect to get mugged.

What was I getting at?

Oh, yeah.

This place certainly has style, but there's no real substance behind it. Concrete and cold steel. Plaster and paint. Break through these facades and the illusion is revealed.

I had a conversation last night. At least it started out as a conversation. It ended up being more of a sermon, or an impassioned plea for understanding.

The things that you read, the things that I write, they're not fiction. I am not a storyteller. I'm not even much of a writer most of the time.

My writings describe my thoughts and my feelings and my life. Strip away the facades of flowing phrases and you really lose nothing. What you're left with may not be as refined, but it's no less real. Hell, it might even be more real.

The point I need to make is that it's often too easy for people to have a disconnect between the words that they read and the people and events behind those words. I see this reflected all the time in the comments and emails I get. People complimenting me in something I've written.

But the thing is, I'm am not an actor performing in a play. This is my life. These events are real. And beyond that, they're happening right now. This is not an historical account of my life that you're reading. It's a play-by-play description.

So, if I write about pain, then I'm hurting.

If I write about confusion, then I'm confused.

And if I write about being in love, then I'm in love.

Just not with you.

Continue reading "grandeur" »

Monday morning, after I'd won a little bit of money playing video poker, I did some walking around. My plan had been to walk up to The Riviera where there's a pool tournament going on, but I only made it to Caesar's Palace.

I took a bunch of pictures.

Paris Las Vegas is quite photogenic.

I did another zoom test with my camera. Here's the unzoomed view of New York New York.

And here's the zoomed view.

I think this stained glass dome was inside Paris Las Vegas.

I took a lot of pictures of fountains. I like fountains.

I stopped at Planet Hollywood inside Caesar's and this creepy thing was on the wall.

More fountains.

These were cooler in person.

Here's the obligatory strip shot taken from just outside New York New York.

The first time I ever came to Las Vegas these talking statues were probably the coolest things in the city. Now they seem kind of cheesy.

I really wanted to jump into the water in front of Bellagio.

That's the Rio way out there on the right. It was too far to walk though.

A tower.

For lunch, I had three Smithwick's (1004) and then I had a Guinness (1277) for dessert. I'd still like to duplicate this bar in my basement some day.

Then I came back to my room and took a nap.

I want a mountain.

Yep, that's what I want.

Not my own personal mountain. That would be way too much responsibility. But I want to live by a mountain again.

(Image stolen from some USGS site)

I miss Mt. Rainier. Even though I could go for months without ever seeing it, I always knew that it was there. And, on those days when it would appear, it never failed to impress and inspire me.

There are no mountains here, in Southern Indiana.

It's kind of boring.

LaptopGirl once said something to me about The Grand Canyon being this gigantic hole that would suck the creativity out of everyone around it. That got me to thinking that maybe mountains would do the opposite. Maybe mountains exude creative energy.

Somebody should look into getting us a mountain.

Figured I'd clean out some of the pictures on my phone.

This was a couple of weeks ago, when we all wondered if we were going to die. It's hard to tell from the picture, but a storm had gone through and left the sky an eerie purplish-brown. I went outside to check it out. With the sunset giving some context to that color it wasn't nearly as freaky.

This is just a smoldering hot girl that was at White Castle one night. She had brown hair and glasses. I was smitten.

One night, when nobody was looking, I hung a picture from DaveFest on the wall at Rich O's. I figured that none of the bartenders would be motivated enough to take it down. It's the picture on the left, and it's of me and SassyGirl.

Saturday they had this art thingy at Rich O's. This here was done by MisunderstoodGirl.

I just took a picture of this because I thought it was stupid. Maybe that's what the artist was going for.

This statue thingy reminded me of allaboutme's profile picture.