The Airing of Grievances

Observations From the Land of Polyethylene Farm Animals

One quick grievance to start...

- I'm a really fast walker. I don't think I've ever actually been passed by another walker. I've often referred to this as a curse whereupon my wife serves me up this big ass slice of perspective pie by informing me that there are people who will never walk a step for their entire lives and I'm complaining about my legs moving too fast? While that may be true, it loses it's luster coming from someone who can't even crack a smile when their cell phone accidentally gets flushed down a toilet.

It's not so much that I'm trying to win anything but unlike most theme park tourists, I have a purpose. I think that when you're paying such a stupid amount of money to be entertained by a theme park, it's important to implement a process and be deliberate with your intentions in order to maximize it's resources. Unfortunately, I'm alone on this. Everyone else seems to be in a complete fog.

Monday Morning Griever - Fuck Amtrak

Penn Station, Friday, April 4th, 3:30 PM: So I'm travelling with my wife, my 5 year old, and my one year old from NYC to Providence. I politely inform the Amtrak people that I have two children, one in a stroller, 2 suitcases, a computer bag, and a backpack therefore I'm in need of an elevator. They show me where the elevator is and inform me that they'll let me know when to board. 5 minutes later...176 is currently boarding on track 9! Hey, thanks for the advance warning mother fuckers.

Now since Amtrak chooses to let all the people with their one briefcase to board at the same time as my sorry ass and provides them with an escalator directly to the track while we have to take 2 elevators while trying to push a stroller and 4 pieces of luggage, of course by the time we get to the train, the whole thing is full. Now, we're trying to find seats while navigating a stroller, a five year old, and 4 pieces of luggage down a path so narrow that I can't even roll the luggage because the assholes sitting down won't get their feet out of the aisle.

Fear and Loathing in SLC

Snowboarding in Utah is fucking nuts: huge-ass mountains and tons of snow- were talking 150 inches of base in some areas.  We hit the back country and traversed over a couple of 12 thousand foot peaks and started raging down these sick powder lines.  We got stuck out on this cliff band one day and the snow was too deep to climb back up to the ridge so we had to jump off.  Only 20 or 30 feet down but scary as hell. 

The nice thing about this type of vacation is at the end of the day you're too exhausted to do anything except order pizza, suck down four or five cocktails, and pass right out.  No decisions need to be made on what to do, where to eat, where to go, who to see, etc.  Everything is settled as soon as you walk through the door. 

Long Overdue Recap

I've apparently been called out by the President of Vandelay Industries for not pumping out enough content.  Fair enough.

Over the past few weeks, I've been moving from the east coast to the west coast, quitting one job, finding another, starting it, etc., and, nope, that hasn't exactly left me with a ton of time (or even a computer, really) for internetting.  But since it needs to be done, I shall now present to you the story of my journey over the last few weeks, using the mid-year Grievance format recently pioneered by Art, just as he once pioneered those new ways to manufacture latex.

Needless to say, this is going to get wordy.  Go grab yourself a snack, possibly a change of clothes and a toothbrush, then feel free to start reading after the jump.

About Bloody Time

Did you know they're making a movie about Hogzilla?

No shit. Some dude takes a picture of himself with the biggest pastrami sandwich on four legs, and somehow that's enough of a story to come up with an entire full length movie. (Or, as I'd call it, "Nine bucks you're never going to see again.") who's to blame for this? Not coked up Hollywood producers who are too busy raking in long, deep cash to notice whether they're greenlighting Birth of a Nation or Mortal Kombat: Annihilation. Not the news media, who spend their days and nights trying to find new and imaginative ways to photograph Paris Hilton's vagina.

It's the Southerners. The folks who brought us the Sparkling Wiggles. And Nascar. And all this shit. Sure, they've done some great things for the country, but let's be honest with ourselves. If anyone spends enough cash to make this Hogzilla shit successful enough to make a sequel, it's going to be them. And after spending 10 years living in their midst, having had conversations that featured phrases such as "I'm sorry - I didn't mean to call them the N-word with you in the room" and "Why should gay people be allowed to get married? So they can give married people the AIDS?", I've had just about enough of the shit.

Which is why, with a (what's the opposite of "heavy heart"? "High five?"), I'm announcing that I'm leaving awesome, awesome, not-at-all awesome Virginia and moving to the west coast. My family already moved last month. I'm just working here for another two weeks before I hop in the whip and drive out myself.

If you don't see me here for a few days, it's because I got all self-absorbed and couldn't give a shit. Or, more likely, I'm staying at a hotel that doesn't have wifi.

Life Is Worth Much More Than Gold

Question. What exactly is the point of vacation? Are these temporary escapes from reality actually intended to reinvigorate us? Has anyone ever gotten back from a vacation feeling refueled and ready tackle the world with an improved sense of purpose?

Now I realize I'm lacking proper perspective here but all I can think about is that this kind of sucks. I'm more detached from reality than I was before and my job seems less significant than it ever was. I have less tolerance for people then I did a couple of weeks ago and any level of ambition I had seems to have been completely sucked dry. All I want to do is blast Marley into my earphones and pity my surroundings.

This can't be healthy...can it?

Sweet Home Ocho Rios

I remember when we used to sit
In the government yard in trenchtown,
Oba - obaserving the ypocrites
As they would mingle with the good people we meet.
Good friends we have, oh, good friends weve lost
Along the way.
In this great future, you cant forget your past;
So dry your tears, I say.

I'm off to my new digs. I'll leave you guys some beer in the fridge. Chiles, make sure you keep tracking the A-Rod renaissance. Assman, don't win another basketball game. Everything's gonna be alright and whatnot.

Japan...Still Ahead of the Game

One of the things that many people don't know about me is that I have a semi-irrational obsession with cleaning my ears. I happen to think it's completely rational but most don't see it that way. I actually carry Q-Tips around in my pocket and use them when I get some alone time throughout the day. When you see a used Q-Tip on the floor of my car, you may be repulsed, but no more repulsed than I am that it's in your ears. I also happen to really like the way it feels.

As it turns out, I have a lot in common with the Japanese and now they've come up with this little slice of Utopia...

Kimono-clad babes offering their knees as pillows as they carve the wax out of customers' ear holes is the latest hot fad to hit Akihabara, the Tokyo district best known for its maid-loving geeks and gizmo fans, according to Shukan Asahi (3/9).

Yamamoto Mimi Kaki-ten's only service is to clean its customers' ears, with the job performed by sexy young women kneeling on the floor and clad only in summer kimono known as yukata.

That's fucking hot.

Your welcome in advance for resisting the temptation to post this nasty photo of earwax.

The Smoking Lounge at McCarron Airport on a Sunday Night

Quite possibly, the most depressing place on the planet. The fact that I was reduced to sharing space with the rest of the crackheads does not reflect very highly on me. Might be time to reevaluate.

Serious question, is it ok to hate your buddy if he clears five grand on a 25 cent slot machine after you donated some serious change to the vegas neighborhood all weekend like it was your job?

Times My Job Hasn't Sucked This Past Year

Exactly one - and that is now.

When a deal takes to the shores of Lago di Lugano for 5 days, and this is the view out your window:

Life is good.  If you drew this place for a 2nd grade art class , you'd get an F.  Right now I'm looking at magnolia trees that look as if they were just transplanted from Augusta, 40 ft. tall palms, a crystal blue lake, and right behind it all a white snow-covered mountain.  Sorry, those four things just don't belong in the same frame.  It's almost impossibly beautiful.

This almost makes up for the 2 months in Brummie a few years back.  Almost.