• I’m exhausting to live with.

    So, we have a big cycling event coming to our little hamlet soon. Yes, I’m taking liberties because I like the word hamlet. And I got wind of a job called the Course Marshal which got me very excited. Apparently, you can volunteer to be one of these people who directs competitors and holds traffic. Basically, you are the ruler of your assigned part of the course. I’m all about that. Matthew got to hear how very excited I am to volunteer to be on of those folks. And this is where the blog post title comes into play. Because I’m a bit of a chatterer to put it very mildly. And I have a bit of a tendency to let my mind run like a wild animal when I get excited about something. It’s best if I’m in a room alone when this happens. So I can talk to a wall. Or maybe Lexi, my dog. She gets annoyed, but she’s a dog. What’s she going to do about it. She’s pretty much forced to listen. I am her caretaker. Suck it up, Lexi.

    Anyway, I began regaling Matthew with all of my plans for when I snag my post as Course Marshal. I’m, of course, going to need the necessary accoutrements: uniform, badge, walkie-talkie, and gun. I’m a pacifist, so it’s a water gun, people. The gun is a Super-Soaker 2015-X42BADASS. Yeah, that actual Super-Soaker model doesn’t exist yet. I’m going to have to get them to special order it for me. Well, not special order it. Special design and then special order. I don’t know the specifics on how to get all of that accomplished, including which scientist will design the actual weapon for me, but I’m going to need one of those babies strapped on my holster. (Note: Make sure uniform includes holster.) If things get sideways on the course, I’m going to have to spring into action and restore order. What if there’s spitting? There’s definitely going to be spitting. I can make sure everyone knows that it’s not a spitting-as-insult type of spitting. See? That’s useful. It’s a good thing I’m there to help. Also, what if there’s a wreck? There’s a very good chance of that. Well, if it’s a very bad one, I can faint at the sight of a bone protrusion. Then, I can flag down a medic when I regain consciousness. Again, it’s a good thing I am there. Also, suppose some guy’s getting shirty because I’m making traffic stop for the cyclists? Well, I can pass him off to Matthew who will be there with me as the muscle. It’s my duty as Course Marshal to make sure I can handle any scenario. As far as the rest of my tools, I’ll need to make sure they have time to inscribe my name on my badge. I don’t want just some generic badge that doesn’t even identify me. That’s not professional. I’ll probably need to polish my walkie-talkie skills. It’s entirely possibly that it’s not, “Roger that,” anymore. Or “Come back.” (Note: Take a course on walkie-talkie skills if necessary. Don’t want the other Marshals mocking me.) I should probably figure out how I want the cyclists to address me. I like Captain. Marshal doesn’t sound cool enough. Should I have them bow? Kiss my ring? I don’t know. I have plenty of time to figure that part out.

    As you can see, it gets pretty ridiculous. I think this is the hidden reason I had kids. So I have someone to listen to the absurdity. Anna is as ridiculous as I am, so we are a perfect match. And it helps Matthew to have someone else tag in. Hmmmmm. I think I’m talking to Anna more often than not. He’s abusing the tag team rules.

    June 28, 2015 • Utter nonsense • Views: 35

  • My Favorite Songs: twenty one pilots: Fairly Local

    I’m going to start a new thing where I post some of my favorite songs. Just because. And there will be many. This might be a strange start, but I love Blurryface as much as I loved Vessel. So with a two album run, it’s as good a place as any.

    I have a completely unrelated story to tell, too. Because what would a blog post of mine be if it didn’t ramble and twist and turn before getting to its point? So, I went to the eye doc today. And part of the check-in process involved answering questions that had zero relevance in my opinion, and I suspect, yours to the task at hand. For example, I had to select my race, my marital status, and I was so floored by those two that the third escapes me. I answered these questions because I wasn’t given a option to refrain from answering, and because I suspected that I was being watched. And to these intrusive questions I say, “What the what?!?” I expect to answer two questions at the eye doctor:
    1. Do you have eyes?
    2. Do you have insurance?
    That is all. I don’t see what having a husband has to do with my eyes. Are they wondering if I can see him? The whole business was just strange. And invasive. I seriously wish I could remember that third question. It was as irrelevant as the first two. I felt like I was going to be sent to a special room based on my answers.

    June 24, 2015 • Music • Views: 44

  • Sickness = spending quality time bathing in the nurturing glow my nursemaid computer emits while I binge watch content as the showrunner intended. I’m nothing if not obedient. And anyway, what else am I going to do? Cough all night?

    So, that’s a post title, huh? SEO, suck it. I’m not here for you. Which I think has been well established long before now. Aside to SEO peeps who keep emailing me: I’m not interested. Really. This is a blog. It’s not ever going to make money. You’ve clearly not read a single post if you don’t understand this fundamental truth. Off with the lot of you.

    So, where was I? I believe I was talking about the time-honored tradition of binge watching. Which is as old as time itself. Cavemen and cavewomen binge watched. Their content wasn’t nearly as captivating as mine. I don’t believe the woolly mammoth and woolly rhinoceros did much except lack imagination when it came to dreaming up unique, descriptive adjectives for themselves. If the cavemen and cavewomen were especially fortunate, they lucked into a fight between CaveMan-Bald-Spot and CaveWoman-Orange-Tuft-Over-Left-Ear as they fought over who got the last bite of wild cat. As the fight escalated from name-calling to fists to clubs, all that would be missing would be popcorn and beer. Sorry, cavemen and women. That’s a long slog into the future for those snacks.

    And look, I’m done with the analogy. I had this whole thing where I was going to illustrate binge watching through history. In the same vein as the cavepeople example, of course. But, I’d rather get to the “meat” of the blog. And so, let me tell you about my latest binge watch. I was sick. With the coughs. Which is the absolute worst for sleeping. So, I was logging about three hours of sleep a night which means I was lurching about the office seeing cartoon characters brought to me by my friend sleep deprivation (good times). And thankfully, it occurred to me early in the sickness that I should be hitting the computer hard to consume some media. I started with Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, which was a romp that barely got me through the first two nights. One season of a show is just not enough. But it was a delightful show, and I am hopeful that Unbreakable-Kimmy-Schmidt-Titus exists somewhere. Unbreakable-Kimmy-Schmidt-Titus, call me. I need you in my life. Anyway, inspiration hit after I blew through Unbreakable in record time. Orange. And black. Three seasons? That should get the job done. I’m not a math person, but that seems like it could fill some sleepless nights. Verdict? Sleepless nights filled admirably. And when S3 dropped, I had just a couple of S2 eps. left, and spent the weekend knocking that baby out. Well, if I’m honest, I had S3 knocked out by Saturday night. What can I say. I’m helpless when the credits roll. That means cue up the next ep. Breaking Bad required enormous levels of willpower to watch only two eps. at a time, since I was continuing to sleep like a regular person and work. I’m glad I was only one season behind for that show. So, back to Orange is the New Black. Piper is a complete shit. It took me until midway through S1 to figure that out. OK, I might have made it through two-thirds of S1 before I was shooting fire out of my eyes at her. And Larry was dead to me sooner than that. Tool. I liked S2 the best. And though I thought the S3 finale could use some editing, I loved the juxtaposition at the end to set up S4.

    Favorite characters:
    Poussey (She’s been consistently one of my favorites.)
    Morello (Sure. She’s nuts. And dangerously nuts at that. But she breaks my heart.)
    Boo (She’s definitely grown to be one of my most favorite characters.)
    Pennsatuckey (How is this even POSSIBLE!!! So much hate for her earlier….)
    Nicky (I can’t even talk about it.)
    Red (MINUS Healy! No ship here.)
    Gloria….wait, should I just list all of them? I’m looking at my list, and it would be easier to just say I hate Piper and Larry, and I’m extremely grateful for the respite from him. I’m mixed on Alex, since I don’t like weak Alex. And I’m mixed on Stella, although she’s very easy on the eyes and ears.

    Next up? House of Cards! Bring the pain, Spacey.

    June 23, 2015 • Television • Views: 49

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