Monday, January 24, 2005

just a southern bad-ass lookin for trouble...

Hello. My name is Cecil. I'm a rescued cat from the mean streets of Fayetteville. I'm about one foot tall, 15 pounds in the winter, and...well, nevermind, I'm freaking huge. I enjoy long walks on Chris' face, sleeping all day, waking up at 11:00 PM to trash the house, taking a dump and then running from it like it's going to get me, trying to open doors without the use of thumbs, chirping like a bird, chasing invisible bugs, kicking water's ass (I hate that punk), and sharpening my claws on anything of value. I am most comfortable when I'm sleeping on Chris' clean and pressed work clothes. I am looking for companions (preferable with thumbs) that share my ultimate goal of world domination, or at least just want to eat everyone else in the house.

Friday, January 21, 2005

I decided to do a little experimenting with my banner at the top of the page. I'll be changing it every so often to feed my creative hunger and show off some of my photography.

when you raised hell in the burger king because they stopped making those cardboard crowns...

What is it with me and this alt-country-folk-sad-sappy-crap music? I went to see Ben Nichols (lead singer of Lucero) and Cory Branan last night. They basically just sat down with their guitars and played each other's songs. I couldn't stay for the entire set though. I'm an old man with a job. I had to get up early today and grease the wheels on my walker.

Thursday, January 20, 2005

heal our land, spinauguration...

I'm watching the stupid inauguration on CSPAN right now. I love CSPAN. There's no ridiculous commentary, just the sounds of old people waiting to hear some other old people talk. "Mildred wanted so badly to make it here today, but she broke her hip opening a jar of pear preserves. I just love Laura Bush. Just look at her. She's so beautiful. And I hear she's quite the housekeeper as well." Nazis. What?

Oh, and Mary Cheney walks like a man. Ok, I'm finished.

No wait, just kidding. There's more. I like how they've strategically placed a handful of black people right behind the singer so that when the cameras are on him it looks like a diverse crowd, when in reality it looks more like the Million Old White Man March. Ok, I'm finished.

Tuesday, January 18, 2005

podiatrist, periodontist, whatever...

I'm working on an addition/remodel of a periodontist's office. I've been working on the drawings off and on for months, but I have somehow avoided doing any visits to his office so far. That was until today. I had to go there and measure some cabinets. Meaning, I had to go into the horror chamber that is known in Normal People Land as the "exam room". The nurses took me back to a room that wasn't currently being used (thank you, Jeebus) and let me take my photos and measurements. On my way out, I glanced into another exam room from the hall and saw some poor old dude kicked back in the chair with like 20 hoses coming out of his mouth. He was making this terrible moaning/gurgling sound. It looked like a Star Trek torture chamber in there. I quickly turned my head away and concentrated on my ever weakening stomach. I don't know what that guy was having done to him or why, but I'm guessing it wasn't because he takes awesome care of his teeth and gums. It looked like they might have been either removing something or installing something new in his mouth. I bet the old guy was getting himself some new gold fronts. Oral Bling Bling.

Monday, January 17, 2005

if there was a sequel would you love me like an equal...

It has been a busy day so far. I don't get off work for MLKJr day like so many others. No, I work. I work real hard. Thank you, Indie Pop Rocks! and iTunes, for getting me through yet another frustrating day. If I didn't have you, I'd have to listen to the adult contemporary station coming from somewhere down the hall. Yuk. Now I must attend to a fax machine that has decided to start some trouble with me today.

Friday, January 14, 2005

point me in the direction of danger, i'm ready...

I made it to work today. I wish I hadn't. It's funny how a head cold can make you feel so delirious and out of place. I usually feel pretty much "out of place" with the rest of the world, but when I get a stuffy head, lookout! I lose what little logic and common sense abilities I usually have and talk in circles (yes, more than I usually do). This is not a good thing to bring into an architecture firm. I can't seem to even have a simple phone conversation without confusing me and the other party as well. Here's a sample conversation I had on the phone with a typical southern contractor today:

Me: *voice breaking up due to junk in my throat* Suchandsuch Architect, this is Chris.

Contractor: Hello?

Me: Hello.

Contractor: Don?

Me: This is Chris.

Contractor: Yea, ok Chris, sounds like you're breakin' up over there.

Me: No, I have a cold.

Contractor: Well, yea, I guess it is pretty cold today.

Me: What?

Contractor: I said it's cold.

Me: Oh. Yea.

Contractor: Uh, well anyway, this is Bill Soandso over here at B.S. Construction. I've got some submittals I need to drop. Will somebody be there around 5:00?

Me: Where?

Contractor: your office.

Me: Oh, yea, I'm here.

Contractor: You'll be there around five-ish?

Me: I have some samples for you to pick up too.

Contractor: You do?

Me: Yea.

Contractor: Of what?

Me: Huh? Oh, sorry, I was answering your other question.

Contractor: Oh,'re breakin' up again, I think. Which samples you talkin' about?

Me: Oh, uh...cork.

Contractor: Ok, good. I'll see around 5.

I'm sorry, sir. I've been temporarily rendered useless as a human being, and so therefore I am currently not contributing to your society. Good day, sir.

Thursday, January 13, 2005

everyone come over here and see how good i look...

Yo, what tha crap, dude?!? It's already dark outside. I took the day off today to try and overcome my sickness, but I'm not sure it helped much. I finally took a shower a few minutes ago and put on some "ok" clothes. Now I feel like I could actually do something. I could make my day off productive. I'm not currently hacking up any mucus, so that's a bonus. But I have suddenly noticed that it is already dark outside. My day off is over. What a waste. Now it's just like any other day. I'd be home by now just like I am now. What happened? Let's see, I slept until 8:00, called in to work, slept until 12:30, then got up and moved to the couch. I then drank some tea and watched a movie. I think I drank more tea and watched MTV Cribs and then ate lunch after that. I guess after that I drank some water and watched another movie and then...oh wait, that leads me to now, when I moved my sickliness to the computer and wrote this. I guess I just answered my own question. I'd better go to work tomorrow lest I feel guilty about not doing anything all day. Damn architecture school warped my perspective.

Wednesday, January 12, 2005

my body is under attack...

We've got reports of a possible sore throat and fever in our direct vicinity. All white blood cells report to the deck immediately! Man your battle stations!

Contagious Alert Level: HIGH

Monday, January 10, 2005

fate my friend, you say the strangest things...

Let me just say this. Here I am, it's the middle of the afternoon, I'm at work, and I'm waiting on a certain piece of technology to finish it's task. It has one task, mind you, and it has taken 10 minutes to complete it. It's technology for crying out loud. Shouldn't it be waiting on me? I don't know.

Boy, was I productive this weekend. Oh my gosh. I can't even begin to list all the things I accomplished. Let's see, uh...I watched the NFL playoffs, made a sandwich, watched more NFL playoffs, made another sandwich...alright, you know what? Let's just skip that topic for now.

Anyone know how to take a garbage disposal apart? Someone dropped a shot glass into my garbage disposal and didn't tell me about it and well...let's just say there's still a shot glass in my garbage disposal, but I think it's no longer functional. The shot glass, that is. The garbage disposal still sounded like it was doing a bang up job. I also shattered a glass water pitcher in my sink the other day and there might be some glass from that in there too. This isn't standard operating procedure at Duncan Ave, let me just get that out there right now. I rarely break anything. None of this was really my fault. I didn't know the shot glass was in the garbage disposal, and the water pitcher had structural flaws that I was unaware of. I am responsible for removing any glass from the disposal however, since the shot glass was apparently dropped in there by one of my friends and it was me who was holding the water pitcher when it experienced structural failure. So...again, the topic is disassembling a garbage disposal. Any do's or don'ts involved?

Another quick topic here. Why do realtors insist on putting their faces on everything? This lady said she was going to give me this cool little calendar for my desk at work. I said, ok thanks. Then she gave it too me and I wanted to give it back. It has her face on it. Not on the cover, not on the back, but on the part that shows no matter what month it is. So now I have this person staring at me while I work. I don't have any pictures on my desk, no friends, no family, no pets, no nothing. But now I have this near stranger's face on my desk and it seems a bit awkward. I can't just throw it away. She'll ask me where it went the next time she comes into the office. Maybe I'll just get some scissors and cut off the part with her face on it. But what if she sees what I did? I'd feel terrible. Ok, I've got it. I'll just stick a mini post-it note with some scribbled numbers and such over her face. That way it looks like I got busy and just stuck it there at random. Yes. I'm such a social genius.

Saturday, January 08, 2005

This is my cat, Cecil. He doesn't sit still for very long, therefore all photos of him are slightly blurred. Every day, he takes about 700 to 800 naps of approximately 60 seconds each, slowly building up enough energy to stay up all night breaking things.
Natalie of the i don't like to wear shoes blog fame is currently sitting behind me talking on the phone and playing solitaire. She's a multi-tasker. I personally would have just called whoever back after my solitaire game or just not call them back at all. I have bad phone etiquette.

Thursday, January 06, 2005

This is going to sound perverted, but everyone please stick your pin in my guest map. It's one of the icons at the bottom right of my blog. Let me see if I have the record for the most readers in the Bible Belt. Seriously though, I want to see where people are from. Pin me.

Wednesday, January 05, 2005

the last days of a could've-been...

This was my first lesson in strange humiliation. In kindergarten, I went to a private school near my home in Little Rock, Arkansas. They had a drive-thru drop-off type of thing in front of the building. Parents simply lined up in their vehicles on their way to work or wherever and dropped their kids off at the front door. One day, my mom was dropping me off and we were second in line to the front when I suddenly decided that I wanted out of the car immediately. At the same time, my mom began driving forward. Before she could stop me, I was opening the door and taking my first step out of the moving car. I quickly noticed what was going on and pulled myself back inside. Mom screamed bloody-murder at me in front of the entire school. I don't remember exactly what she said. I actually don't remember any of what she said. It didn't matter. It was that tone of voice and the fact that everyone on the playground and all the teachers had turned around to see what the commotion was, only to find that it was little Christopher getting his butt chewed out by his mother.

Monday, January 03, 2005

maybe i am being pretentious, but at least you're smarter now because of it...

Someone just took a monster dump here at the office and tried to cover it up with some kind of aerosol deodorizer. I'd rather just smell the crap straight, because now it smells like someone shat a pine tree.

I had a dream last night that I got into a fight with some guy in line at a grocery store. Afraid he would beat the crap out of me eventually, I climbed on top of a display shelf across from the cash register. I proceeded to taunt him from there, while the cashier and other customers looked on in amazement. Does this mean I'm crazy? I sure hope so.

I've come to the conclusion lately that everyone around me takes me way too literally and seriously. I think I must have the darkest, sickest sense of humor of anyone on the planet. Nine times out of ten I'm making a joke, yet nobody gets it. I get serious answers to my ridiculously rhetorical and absurd questions. No one is actually listening.

Sunday, January 02, 2005

so i sat back down, had a beer, and felt sorry for myself...

Anyone care to read about my awesome New Years celebration? Good. I didn't want to write about it anyway. I'll sum it up just to piss you off though. Surrounded by lots and lots of drunk people, who for some reason felt it necessary to hug me, I counted down to an imaginary clock somewhere in the bartender's head. Then,'s like 2005 or something. Also I watched the Hogs slaughter some poor team, listened to good music, and danced around like a white guy with something sharp up his ass. So yea, it was pretty fun I guess.

Last night I went to a place called You Know?!? Uno's! (I shitchoo not, pardner). It's this karaoke place here in Fayetteville that broadcasts your terrible version of Baby Got Back all across the parking lot of all the bars and clubs downtown. So if you suck, everyone knows it. People will sometimes even make a special effort to walk across the parking lot and step inside the door to tell you to shut up. I was originally supposed to do my excellent impression of Aaron Neville, but it fell through due to my throat being abnormally narrow or something. I sat there for hours and hours listening to all the different types of karaoke...uh...ers. There are the really serious regulars, who go there every night and do the same song. If someone else does that song before them, they get fumed and walk out murmuring "that bitch...that's my song...I can't believe this". Then there's the drunk guy who does a song for his special lady friend. Sometimes that special lady stands on stage and holds the hand of the drunk guy while staring straight into his eyes. It normally sounds terrible, but you forgive him for his sweetness (I didn't just say that). Then there's the guy who will do practically any song, but sing it in a death metal, I just killed a baby fetus and it looked good so I swallowed it now it's lodged in my esophagus and it's causing me to sing like a gigantic frog, Marilyn Manson type voice. Surprisingly enough, he knows all the words, and usually does anywhere from five to ten songs in one night. Then comes the person, be it male or female, that picks a song that they suddenly forget or never knew in the first place. They usually just sway back and forth or hum while looking at the words on the screen like they're reading a medical dictionary. They may actually sing one complete line of the real words and then end it with an insincere "sorry". And then there was our group of people. The evenly mixed group of guys and girls who sit there for hours passing the book of songs back and forth going "Do this one! No you do it! I'll do it if you do it with me. Ok. Maybe." The girls do three or four classic songs together at the same time, giggling and acting cute while looking over at the guys in embarrassment any time they mess up the words. Last but not least, there was me. I don't think I really fit into a karaoke stereotype, or maybe I do and I'm just in denial, I don't know. I sat there all night listening to other people's suggestions, waiting to hear the name of a song that I knew absolutely all the words to and that didn't require hitting any high notes (I have testicles). Finally, at almost closing time, I heard a suggestion by my friend Reed. "Let Her Cry", by Hootie And The Blowfish. I thought to myself for a second "Yes! I remember that one! I use to sing it in the shower and I sounded pretty sweet." Ok. Hootie it is. And Reed decided to join me. I had heard Reed sing before, and I thought we would make a pretty good duet. When I got up to sing, my stage-fright from middle school kicked in, but I dominated it before the music started by a quick lounge singer impression freestyle, something like "Guess whoooooo's the soberest of sobeeeeeeeeer". Reed looked and sounded very comfortable. I tried to feed off of that. When the music started, I suddenly became very focused and serious. This is normally not my nature when I'm in control of a microphone. I was mentally in the 10th grade...singing along to my shower radio. It was brilliant. Everyone said it was a hit. And I think I might have accidentally dropped the f-bomb in there somewhere for humor. I went home satisfied with my performance, and happy that my friends were still talking to me after my show.

Tonight, I scored my new bowling high. 207. Life is good.

Saturday, January 01, 2005

New Year's Party @ JR's
THREE...TWO...ONE...HAPPY NEW...wait, no that clock's fast.
New Year's Party @ JR's :: Ryan and Ashley
New Year's Party @ JR's :: Jana and Megan
New Year's Party @ PR43's :: Some guy with greasy hair walked in front of my photo of Philip and Jena dancing. Idiot.
New Year's Party @ JR's :: Anna and Wes
New Year's Party @ JR's :: Dave from Aqueduct