I Guess It Really Ain't Easy

Pimpin', that is.

Currently, the IRS has to prove a prostitute's or pimp's income to pursue a tax law violation. But under Grassley's proposal, a pimp could get up to 10 years in prison for each prostitute for whom the pimp hasn't filed a W-2, which means a pimp caught with 10 unregistered prostitutes faces a century in prison.

Somebody better let Archbishop Don "Magic" Juan know about this.

All That Was Missing Was The Bay City Rollers

The place to be this past Saturday, in case you didn't know, was at Casa de Los Os. It had all the makings of a successful party (good people, good music, a variety of alcohols including lime rickeys) and some not so much (that fat guy shotgunning whipped cream, then spitting it all over your couch when he does a meager little cough/choke thing). Fortunately, the hosts were forgiving and I was allowed to stay and be part of the post-party run to IHOP. Yes, chicken-fried steak IS exactly what I was looking for.

It was a most excellent time, as it always is when Los Os, The Drizzle, and Jamy is involved. The rest of my weekend was rather uninspiring, consisting of household upkeep, gaming, and getting addicted to a new chinese food dish. ("Salt Pepper Shrimp"!)

And now I'm back to work, where even more people are leaving (not in my department, thank god). This place is starting to feel like a sinking ship. I wonder if that's why there's been such a problem with mice recently.

Just Do Your F**king Job!

It amazes me that some people will waste so much energy and time arguing their point just so they can be lazier.

I swear, some of my co-workers are the suckiest bunch of sucks who ever sucked.

I'm Not Even Supposed To Be Here Today
(Not true, but that captures the exasperation.)

1. A co-worker quit on the spot today. But not before she got pissy at me due to what her paranoid mind thought was laughter at her. (In truth, it had nothing to do with her.) She was, however, nice on her way out the door.

2. The office was overrun with mosquitoes because some nimrod in our engineering department decided to leave a bucket in the ceiling to collect water. The bucket--and a chunk of the ceiling--eventually crashed to the floor.

3. I had a toner mishap, leading to a good section of my light-colored shirt turning black. But I MacGuyvered that shit out of existence. I'm a stain-removing ninja!

4. A co-worker brought me shit at the end of the day, causing me to be at work another hour. I let her know that I won't put up with that nonsense, though. She was quite defensive and tried to pass the buck. Nice.

On the plus side, I was able to get two hard shrieks of laughter from one of my co-workers today, the last one when I referred to her as my "Sapphic Overlord."

Shut up! It made me laugh: Unf!

A new series coming to Adult Swim combining two of my loves: heavy metal and cartoons. It's called Death Clock Metalocalypse (or Dethklok or just Metalocalypse) and comes from the minds of Brendon Small (Home Movies) and Tommy Blacha (TV Funhouse, Late Night with Conan O'Brien).

I'll give it a shot.

What happens when you're the laziest blogger in the world? Not much, because that laziness usually extends itself into other aspects of my life. But for the readers, the daily nothing of which posts on this blog consist, it's even worse. How on earth will those proud few ever get updates on my hilarious exploits, such as "What I ate for dinner last night?" and "What do I really think about the state of my life AT THIS VERY MOMENT?" It's enough to kill you a little, on the inside.

So, to help you'ns out, I'm going to put up something resembling a recollection of the week I took off before Memorial Day. It was heap good time, paleface.

Saturday--May 20th, for those without a calendar, or who did not read the above paragraph that set the time frame--I took the always reliable Amtrak up to Pennsylvania to see Erica. It was a pretty ho-hum trip, with the exception of the cruel taunts from The Drizzle, who was enjoying Mai Tais at the Tiki Bar. I got in around 10pm, which was a "mere" thirty minutes late. The timing turned out to be perfect, though, as Erica and her mother were running late. We got a quick bite to eat and then it was time to get to the house and call it an evening.

Well...that didn't take long. Already, I'm trying to rack my brain with the exact sequence of events for the next few days of my stay. It's impossible. My brain is fooked. Right...to the highlights:

Made the rounds to meet the rest of Erica's family. All of that went very well, even better than I expected. I'm always nervous before meeting the friends and family of significant others, which I suppose is a natural reaction. I'd still rather not have to deal with it, but, since I only trust alcohol to take the edge off, there was not going to be any way to calm myself. Of course, it turned out that social lubrication would have been unnecessary, anyway. As far as I can tell, they like me bunches. I rock.

Played lots of cards, with poker being the usual suspect. Fortunately (for me), we only played for money once. Otherwise, I would have been hurting.

Took Erica and her mother out for an awesome, belated birthday dinner at Alfano's at The Quail. Unlikely as it may be, if you are ever in Washington, Pennsylvania, I highly recommend this place.

Unfortunately, I was not able to make it back to Eide's for another music binge. Nor did I get to check out any of the stores that I missed during my previous visit. Oh well. This will give me something to shoot for the next time I'm up there.

On Wednesday (the 24th), Erica and I both woke up at the crack o' dawn in order to catch an Amtrak back to D.C. And miracle of miracles, it wasn't *that* late! For those unfamiliar with my past trips back to D.C. from PA, Amtrak usually delivers me--on average--six hours late. It is, needless to say, infuriating. On the return trip, it was only about thirty to forty-five minutes behind schedule.

Even though we were back to my spot by early afternoon, Wednesday was mostly shot because we only got a couple of hours of sleep the night before and the sleep on the train really didn't make up for it. Thursday evening, Erica and I, after a day full of nothing, met up with Los O's--Erica's first interaction with any of my friends--for dinner and drinks in Adams Morgan. Dinner was at Meze, which was excellent, especially since the weather was nice enough to sit outdoors. From there, we had a couple of drinks at Tom Tom, then called it a night.

Friday we did...I don't honestly remember. I know we slept in waaaay too late, which killed our day and plans to do touristy things. I'll have to check with Erica, but that whole day may have been a bust.

Saturday, Erica and I went to Bethesda so she could buy some bread from Spring Mill to take home with her. After lunch, we went out to White Flint to check out some furniture that I am considering buying. That evening, she and I went to the Black Cat to booze up with The Drizzle. Eventually, a couple of my co-workers showed up to join in the fun, including PB (who may have been mentioned previously, quite possibly under the now defunct initials of "AF"), who referred to Erica as "the competition" upon introductions. Drunk talk! Fortunately, all was good, so much so that when the following exchange took place at Yum's, there was no fallout from it:

Erica (looking at my face): Whose lipstick is that?
Me (caught off guard): Uhhh...yours?
Erica: No, it's not!
Me (confessing): Oh yeah. That's from PB. She kissed me on the cheek when I helped her with the ATM. (100% true!)

Sadly, Sunday came and Erica had to leave. It sucked, even more than usual, because that was the longest stretch of time we've spent together since we started dating. I won't get to see her again until she comes down at the end of this month.

And that was how I spent my summer vacation. No wait...

Since then, nothing much has been going on, except the birth of my nephew. It's been mostly work, with some play thrown into the mix for good measure, including an evening spent at the Crystal City Sports Pub this past Friday, which was a lot of fun.

Today has been a boss-less, semi work-less day. To laziness!

Henry Rollins loves Ann Coulter.

In other news, who knew that the offspring of Sandy Duncan and William H. Macy would be so bosom-y? Color me impressed.

Starting The Week Off

I just heard that a co-worker of mine was confused by A Prairie Home Companion because she thought it was going to be a romantic comedy. She also had this nugget o' funny: "If you like country music, you'll probably like this movie."

I swear, it's truly like people are throwing ducks at balloons and nothing is what it seems.

(And yes, there's actually a reasonable explanation--beyond wild stupidity--for the confusion, but it's funnier without it.)

Finally, some children's programming I can get into. I mean, monkeys, monsters, and Biz Markie. Where's the downside?

#3

Allow me to introduce you to my nephew, John Ellis:


(Not shown: the horns and tail. Thank you, Photoshop.)*

Seven pounds, fourteen ounces.

Newborns really aren't the cutest things, are they? That's okay, his brother and sister looked about the same, and now they're beyond adorable. Genetics!


*Obligatory "baby born on 6/6/6" joke.

Number of the...Beast?

For those of you who didn't know, my sister is pregnant with her third child. Well, I just received a call that she has gone into labor. Here's hoping for a healthy mother and child.

Uncle Damian is quite happy. I'll have more details as they become available.

National Day of Slayer: June 6, 2006 (6/6/6): I do hope you all will set aside some time to recognize. Might I suggest "Hell Awaits"? Or if you prefer, you can pick a track from this handy list, compiled by your friends at the All Music Guide.