Save Lando

so, again? don’t exactly know why I’m so chatty, but i suppose that I should just go with it instead of stifling my creative juices. we all love creative juices anyway. just remember to dry-clean afterwards.

more boring stories from work, that don’t include me flying off the handle and killing people include one from a female co-worker. who, after finding a stray cat out behind our complex/compound, decided it was her duty to find it a home. thus she began hours of asking customers if they ‘wanted a kitty’. I, much later, informed her of her questionable question towards our clientele. do not ask the people if they want kitty, they will ALWAYS take it the wrong way. always. of course, I had a good long period of laughter before I mentioned it. why not get my kicks first, right? she quit a few days later, so fuck her anyway.

this was just one of many occasions where I’ve dealt with those cut from a much shabbier, itchier, intellectual cloth. not that I’m any smarter than your average tablecloth, but for some reason, I find myself surrounded by idiots lately. not your normal, garden variety idiots, I’m talking full-blown Forrest Gump up in my city. most of you know, and have spoken to me. do I speak so horribly that you couldn’t understand me the first three times I say something to you? christ, no less than on a dozen occasions, I’ve had to repeat myself more than thrice to a veritable assortment of genetic god damned retards, hellbent on making me snap. news to the ‘tards? I don’t need help snapping, my boss is doing fine all by himself.

we’ve been severely shorthanded as of late at my work, and two more people walked this last week. we’re barely holding on, and now working seven days a week because of the staffing problems. I’m working long hours, and lots of them. hope the checks turn out nice. if I ever have time to cash them, that is. cutting into my weekends with Loopy is going to irk me very, very quickly. in all likelyhood, it will be not long until I experience ‘the rage’. you know, that thing that pisses you off and turns you into a dead japanese woman. christ, welcome to three years ago.

I’m even taking bets on when my body breaks down from lack of r&r. place em now! I’ve been sleeping later and later every day. I think I’m working my way up to oversleeping to be late for work. a difficult feat when you work at 2pm daily. I think with practice and encouragement, I can make it happen. it’s good to have dreams, children. both literally and figuratively.

and what the fuck? is old spice making a comeback? is it on sale somewhere around here? someone handing out free samples with food stamps or something? ugh. I’m smelling it everywhere and i hate it. if i wanted to think about a smell akin to my grandfather washing his balls whilst whistling ‘Ol Susannah, I’d be seeking thera-fuckin-py. it’s bad enough that Bruce Campbell has lowered himself to appearing in their commercials, now I have to smell this crap all the time? it’s so bad, I’d even trade it for something equally as bad. drakkar noir, etc., you know what I mean. at least the commercials are funny, and that I still wont hate Bruce Campbell for making them. he put himself way ahead just by making “Bubba Hotep”.

but seriously. I hate old spice. and Vo5 anything. I think my first aftershave experience was old spice or aqua velva. whichever it was, they’re both horrible. when my grandfather passed away, I got his old bathroom bag full of his old bathroom items. I guess it was the thought that counts, but this was one of the gifts I got that I wasnt too impressed with. I did get his old work ring, and some of his belt buckles. those I still have and will keep. the crusty bottle of ‘Afta’, not so much. I keep memories also, though most of those aren’t fond ones. like a lot of people you love in your family, it’s so much easier to remember the bad times, the fights, and not the laughter and fun. I apologize for being somewhat serious in any post. feeling this was about loved ones makes me feel like a douchebag sometimes. not sure if this sort of thing is specific to myself or not, so we’ll drop the downer talk.

well, sort of. it’s still a downer than Loopy will not acknowledge my profession as medical doctor. I told her that I’m concerned about her health and think she needs a physical. EVIDENTLY, she disagrees with the notion that her prostate needs checking, and will not let me touch her with my surgical/winter leather gloves. some people are just not concerned about their health. not that I’m concerned about my health, but given that I care for her, I would like for her to not have any prostrate trouble. upon informing her that I’m a licensed professional, she claims to be the same. she even claims to have gone to the same medical school that I did, which is ridiculous. some people and their pretending….

again with the writing. what’s the special occasion? IT’S NOT AUGUST, YOU CAN’T! just felt like I had more to say this June. hope it’s not too big a problem for my rabid readers, most of them being bookish, I’m sure a couple more paragraphs won’t bother you too much, will it? also, since ‘Loopy’ refuses to write, I must pick up the slack.

in recent news, I did something I told myself I would never do. something I was feverishly opposed to. I got a cell phone. having an increased number of problems with my home phone, I decided that maybe it was time I joined the 20th century and started carrying around something that will tether me to the world, probably in a bad way. now everyone can get me, most of the day. this, of course, would have been an awesome idea had I actually ever gotten any phone calls from anyone other than my boss, who would probably only use it to ask me strange questions (he called me two days ago to ask me where three backwater Oklahoma towns were, for no reason). if anyone needs the number, drop me an email and I’ll do what I can to let you in on my cell phone party. my contacts list grows daily, and hopefully this will make me keep in touch with people a little better than I’m prone to usually. it’s also, sadly, sure to bring telemarketing calls from those pesky telemarketing people.

stop calling me. unless I’m bringing the water and you’re making with the magic, I’m NOT interested.

and speaking of delicious libations, I tried diet pepsi max a few days back. Loops won’t try it after my description, but I like it as a morning/afternoon drink. I saw the package at the store, and since I normally drink diet pepsi, I gave it a whirl, thinking “hell, why not?”. the next day, I looked up what was so special about it. apparently, theres a different sweetner (…zzzz) and ginseng. eh. not impressed yet. oh. theres also twice the caffeine. HELLO. now we’re cooking with gas. anything with twice the caffeine can’t be bad. I like it in the mornings as a coffee replacement, on days where coffee doesn’t sound tasty. I describe it as thick, or heavy. I have also used the word ‘viscous’. I think this scared the Loopy, but in her defense, she hates diet pepsi anyway. I know, right? how could you?

I’ve also had another incident of someone semi-stalking my blog. egads people. I’m not moving again, so just deal with what was written. the person referred to as ‘the hobbit’ a few years back insisted he wasn’t stalking my blog, but somehow managed to find it, ….and accidently read 2 years into the past for a mention of himself. because that couldn’t in any way be considered stalking. I got an email, insisting the absence of stalking, but asking me to elaborate on events of two years prior. man, I can’t remember what i did yesterday, let alone what someone said in ‘05 on a night where i was probably drinking. I would have probably just forgotten about it and let it go had someone not showed up at my work to comment on things further. yay? ok, no more feeding the trolls.

one thing thats incredibly difficult? trying to explain to people that already seem to have an idea in their head that things are different from the way they actually are. case in point, about this post, I do not have a fecal fetish or obsession. I do, however, enjoy all humor, including juvenile dick, fart, and shit jokes. ha, like you guys didn’t know this by now. I generally try to avoid these mentions for fear of being pigeonholed into the ever-so-exclusive ring of bowel blogs. the only reason I’m bringing this up is that there have been two hilarious comments spoken in my presence this week, and both were concerning ‘the duece’.

first, I can’t remember the conversation we were having, but Loopy and I were yukking around and she said something that made me jump up and run to the other room to record the brilliant statement destined for blogdom. “I’m the poop pro.” you should have seen her face when I jumped for a pen and paper. ha, it was like she was already rethinking our relationship, and lamenting the loss of the days where she could say things and not have me annoy her endlessly. I think the conversation centered around my status as an actual doctor, a claim which she wrongingly disputes. after being informed of my title as doctor, and of my lab coat-in-the-closet status, she rolled her eyes and quickly debunked any notion of my doctorship.

the other, happened when my boss asked me to stay late a few hours at work one night. because I guess I don’t work enough, I needed a few more hours of overtime. yay? a few days previous, I had to close the store for close to five minutes to ‘void’. since I run a store solo, there’s really no way around it. if I have to go, the store has to be closed. so I generally have pretty decent control of said bowels. this night, I had to work a few hours of overtime (jesus, again?) and didn’t quite make it through my shift. not a big deal, we all do it. I guess my boss caught wind of me closing the store, and accepted the closing, but didn’t exactly like being closed. so on the second occasion of me staying hours late, in a phone call with him, he asked me a question. “when is your poo time?” uh huh. now. how many of you can say that your boss ever asked you a question like that?

only in my world, baby.

i suppose that if i open my trap to say something to someone about a lack of posting, i should put up or shut up myself (even though i’ve posted much more recently than my signifigant other). like always, i have a multitude of notes written for myself from work about things i’ve wanted to write about, but can hardly decipher their meaning now, as those mindsets have come and gone. the notes were fine for daily writing, but seem to be horribly cornfusing a month and a half afterwards. it’s like i’m finding some schizo’s notes, completely random at random, reminding me of a memory.

years ago, at an old job, there was this thief. this thief stole many things and was never really caught. my bosses came to me to ask me if i knew anything about anything, which i didn’t (like thats anything new). instead of actually trying to figure out who was stealing in mass quantities, i chose to explore the possibilites of me having some odd multiple personality disorder in which i would black out, and the person taking control was some weird thief, stealing very odd things and not getting caught. again, a crazy notion, but one of the first i decided to visit, because apparently i had an active imagination. well, that and it was so much more interesting than my boss taking things and blaming it on her employees. sometimes i wonder what happened to that mindset, but wonder if i wasn’t so bent on tearing myself down in the process of keeping myself interested. in some weird way, i wasn’t able to accept that other people were at fault, and that i cetainly had to be the one doing the bad things. some unhealthy self-effacing mindset in those years, setting the pace for my attitude and ultimate experience for that period of time. i guess in the end, though i wasn’t working fast food, i found myself more a sleazy Mayor McCheese than a mentally unstable Hamburglar, dropping the notion all together and moving on.

these notes are a mess. the ones i can find don’t make any sense. i’m finding bits of paper with words/phrases: “twins” ; “narcissism” ; “cab ride” ; “bum – 7 mins abs” ; and finally, “lost and delusional”. so if any of you have any idea what any of things things were about, leave a note, and i’ll write about them, probably sometime in august when i’m due to post next. har?

i also found a note that says “goats on the highway”. fortunately, i remember this. a few weeks back, there was a giant accident on a freeway near my work. a couple of semi’s were involved, and one of them was hauling goats. what goats made it out alive were running all over the highway, whilst the ones that didn’t make it, just laid strewn across it. goats all over. goats on the highway. would make an interesting song i guess. i got a kick out of the visuals that were registering with the story. and being in oklahoma, this isn’t exactly a new occurence really. most of the time it’s cows though. hell, i’ve driving around cows on the highway, we’ve all seen them here, but this was my first tale of goats. which i guess makes it fairly tame considering its just a different species of animal, but in a place where we see pigs, cows and chickens most of the time, the change of the animal was refreshing. well, even if the smell wasn’t. stop. I live in Oklahoma, i get enough shit for things like this.

a few days ago, my bosses wife comes to visit me at a sales counter. in front of me is a child of about 10, picking his nose. pretty much par for my customer course, really. she starts talking to me and stops mid sentence, staring at the child before saying this to him. “Did you get it?”. he apparently, did not, given the confused look on his face. i, however, had to struggle not to howl with laughter. if her husband ever decides to trade her jobs, i might be able to tolerate mine again. i might not think about drinking before i go in just to deal. oh well, back to other stories.

way back in may, i had a couple of birthday’s to handle. one being my stepmothers, the other being Loopy’s. since my stepmothers was first, we’ll got here first. see, she’s a little high maintenance. i won’t go too much into it, but she seems concerned sometimes about things that i think aren’t really concern-worthy. i guess that’s just one of the two or three things that differentiate me from a 60 year-old woman. go me! she had our family go to a fondue place to eat dinner. i’d never been to a fondue restaurant before, so it was…interesting. my family’s pretty goofy and silly for the most part, so there were plenty of ill-placed jokes about paying extra for someone to cook the food for us. it was an interesting experience, one i’d not shun a repeat performance of in the future, but not something i’d want to do on a regular basis. it’s almost felt like i was camping in a moderately stuffy upscale environment. i had to skewer and cook my own food around a heating device 4 other people were using at the same time. all that was missing was someone breaking out a case of milwaukee’s best and a jammin’ skynyrd 8-track. ….and i just figured out what i’m doing for my birthday! ...(or not)…

Loopy’s birfday was the very next week. and because i’m always horrible about gift-giving, i had her help me pick out the gift. funny part was, it had been a discussion at my work for the previous two weeks. what to get her. my co-workers were trying to help me, all the women adamant about a jewelery pick. even a customer jumped into the discussion at one point. i told them that Loops could only wear certain jewelery because of an allergic reaction to certain qualities of gold. the customer popped in with “yeah. you’ll have to get 14k. she’s allergic to the nickel in the lower quality pieces. all the women in my family seem to have the same allergy. i think all women do.” followed by a few minutes of just the guys laughing, and the women giving us dirty looks. i still laugh at that, that was too funny. customers aren’t always bad, i guess. so Loops birthday came and she got some earrings i hope she’s happy with. i had joked since february that she had her ears re-pierced just in time to get new ones for her birthday, a notion which she denies vehemently.

i also had my cat’s balls and claws taken out. he doesn’t seem to care much at the moment, but certainly did the first week or so. i felt so bad. Machismo brought a kitten into our house also. his son named it ‘T.J.’. interesting choice for a kitten, but not a bad one, and not terminally cutesy like “mittens”, “whiskers” or “assface”. though at the moment, i think assface would have been more appropriate. i’m ending on the sickly-sweet cutesy, because this picture might make me vomit. enjoy!