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.

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

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.)

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.

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.

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.

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

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

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.

(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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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