1000...

A dream that’s worth 1,000 miles.

A touch that’s worth 1,000 words.

A Love that’s worth a lifetime of pain.

This will be my last post for a while. You are all welcome to check in as you see fit, but I seriously doubt I will be updating in the next two weeks or better. You see, Internet, I just don’t like things how they are right now, and I just don’t feel like talking to any of you, not that any of you actually read this site anyway.

So, I’m going to go away for a short while, enjoy my vacation, commit internet suicide, and come back as a full fledged writer. Yeah right.

I am not doing any of that except the vacation part.

Cheers and shit.

Life At 12.45am

All I ever did was care about you.
All I ever did was put you first.
All I ever was wasn't enough.

All you ever did was doubt me.

Don't Crawl, It Just Makes Your Knees Hurt.

Saturday, 11 March 2006

8.30a is to damn early to be preparing for an ENTIRE DAY of alcohol… but that is how it worked out. I arrived in Ohio somewhere around 4am EST, tired as hell from working all day and making the 6hr drive from St. Louis to Cincinnati. I knew I would have to be up at 8am to have enough time to appear halfway decent for the day’s ‘festivities;’ but even with that, I knew I would be draggin’ like Fido’s ass across the living room carpet after a gratifying trip outside.

The day started much like I expected. The boys had been drinking the night before, so they were, of course, hung over; still they somehow managed to get themselves ready amidst the stumbling stupor of their still-drunkedess coordination. Of course, I had the opinion that only 4 hours of sleep before DD’ing an entire day had to be breaking some law somewhere – and after seeing what I would have to work with that morning… well yeah. Today’s cast was Uncle, Roy, Tim, Rob, and myself. Rob would join us later when the Army was through with him. Poor bastard.

So, after not-so-much talking and headache management, Uncle, Roy, and I head out to begin this day of questionable activities, alcohol, and general mischief… well for them, anyway. My job was easy – drive from point A to point B and don’t hit anything on the way. Don’t stop too fast. Oh, and don’t speed. Don’t drive so damn slow either! I said left you moron, your OTHER left!

Backseat drivers…

We pick up Uncle’s cohort, Tim, and the 4 of us head off to Bob Evans for a little human-fuel. So, to recap – everyone but me is still drunk, and now we’re off to get greasy ass breakfast food before drinking more. This is where I begin to question everyone’s sanity. After many, many cups of coffee and some eggs, I’m feeling a little more awake and ready to face this arduous task. The other guys… well as far as I could tell, they were all ready, too. It was a light crew this year, 5 people total including the driver, so it definitely was going to be interesting, but not as dangerous as having 10 guys. We paid the ticket and left, heading off to the first bar.

So… Here’s how the day went from beginning to end.

Stop 1: Peg’s Pub, ~10.00am, 1 round.
This is the normal first stop. We actually stopped at another bar before this one, but they were closed – you know… because it’s FREAKING 10.00AM! Anyhow, the owner of Peg’s Pub is the epitome of the dirty old man. The guy is easily 70 years old, extremely foul mouthed, and talks about sex and pornography as if it were some kind of religion. Wait… is it? I can’t remember. The barmaid here was a couple cans short of a six-pack, and that’s pretty bad seeing as how she works the bar. Har.

Stop 2: Hooters, ~11.00am, 3 rounds (4 for Uncle).
This was a new stop on the drunkard itinerary as the place just opened a few months ago. Hooters is Hooters, anyone who’s ever been there knows what it’s about. This trip in particular, though, was a little different. We all have this image of the ditzy blonde California girl. Yes, that one, the one that IS the blonde in all those blonde jokes. I now know where she is; she works at Hooters in Ohio of all places. She was quick to point things out like the new aluminum beer bottles aren’t transparent, and that we need to let her know when another round was needed. Ya think? Every other word was ‘like’ and I swear to God she needed shoulder pads. Of course, we had to hear about her life, her pops, her missing southern California, her blonde hair, her car, her…. *yawn™*

Stop 3: Village Tavern, ~1.30pm, 2 rounds.
We should have skipped this place in all honesty. They walked into this one, sat down, got their round, and sat quietly. Why? Because that’s what everyone else was doing. This place was like the morgue at naptime. Hell, even the barmaid was sleeping. After some light conversation, we checked in with Rob and he indicated he’d meet up with us around 5pm. My Uncle learned what text messages were at this stop.

Stop 4: Hill Station, ~2.00pm, 2 rounds.
Disclaimer: Under the decree of the birthday bar crawl, Article 3 §1.7.1, I am not a liberty to discuss the identity of any participant in the recount of the events that took place at the location of Hill Station at or about 2.00pm 11 March 2006.
This was a fun stop. The boys picked their table and we sat for a minute. One of them got up to use the restroom while the rest of us reminisced about this place last year. Sometime during that, the barmaid came over to the table and asked us for our order. I will admit, she wasn’t bad looking – long blonde curly hair, bout 5’6 - 5’7, mid to late 30s, nice build, VERY flirty. I say this because the other two at the table got that animal look in their eye, and it was on. About that time, our restroom wanderer returned to find a blonde barmaid leaning over the back of his chair. She looked back over her shoulder and said ‘Oh! Excuse me! Please sit!’ So he does, and she plants herself right on his lap. She then proceeds to ask for his order, and he exclaims ‘I have what I want right here.’ Just as I was about to roll my eyes at everyone at the table, she takes his hand and places it firmly on her breast. This continued for the rest of the time at this stop, with her coming over to the table and talking with us. Needless to say, he was responsible for the tip at this stop.

Stop 5: Liberty Pub, ~3.30pm, 3-5 rounds (I lost count).
If there’s anything they know how to do in Ohio, its gut an old junky house dead in the middle of some small town of 6 huts and turn it into a ‘watering hole.’ Such is the case with Liberty Pub, and old house that has been reborn into a cesspool of good old alcohol induced redneck and hillbilly lovin’. I dropped the boys here and set off to puck up Rob from his house. I got back to the bar with him right at about 5.00pm, and by this time, I am feeling just about awake enough to go nap. This is where our drama began, though, so the nap was out. Rob’s wife, who is my cousin and Uncle’s daughter (because it works that way), decided she wanted her husband home by 10.30pm so she could go out. Now, you have to understand this is a once-a-year event, and it’s Uncle’s birthday party, so that was out of the question. There was much whining, complaining, crying, wailing, and gnashing of teeth, but a compromise was reached. We’d have him home at 10.30pm. No, that’s not a typo or a mistake. 10.30pm. Sigh. At least the food here was decent. Most everyone Uncle knew was at this bar, so we stayed a while.

Stop 6: Fat Bob’s, ~7.15pm, 2 rounds.
I wanted to leave when I got here. By this time I was very, very tired and my head was beginning to hurt from all the loud noise, smoke, and other such things that come with ‘festivities.’ This place was dreary, I honestly thought I would have nothing to write about for this bar until he walked in. It was a guy RIGHT out of the 80’s, sporting the Richard Marx-Mickey Rourke mullet hairdo, complete with the all black slacks, black collared button down, held together by a bolero, and topped off with the pretty-boy dangling earring. Thank God for small favors. This is the guy who you can say ‘Hey, the 80’s called for you, they want you back in their decade’ and he would sincerely ask you where the phone was. We were here way too long. Naturally, by this time everyone is visibly drunk, and speaking as such. I was flooded with offers of free coffee, water, and sodas simply because I was DD. I felt like a war hero or something.

Stop 7: The Pub, ~8.45pm, 3 rounds.
This would be our last stop. Roy was beginning to feel ill, not because of alcohol though, that much I could tell. I dropped Uncle, Tim, and Rob at this bar and took Roy back up to the house so he could relax. When I got back to the pub, they were all already into their 2nd round and vehemently discussing the issues regarding my cousin. It was then that I knew all the fun was over and it would be crap™ from here on out. We left The Pub at 10.15pm and got Rob home, dropped Tim off (literally) at his place, and headed home ourselves.

Overall it was interesting. I’ve had wilder crawls with lots more people, and I am glad this one wasn’t too over the top.

Sorry it took so long to get this post up, I've been writing it little by little over the last week.

*hic*

Well, it’s that time of the year again.

I am off to Ohio this weekend for the annual hillbilly family birthday bar crawl. It’ll be grand, GRAND, I say. There’s nothing quite like carting around 10 drunk, fat, and aged men to an undetermined number of bars over a 12 hour period in the back woods of Ohio. Let me tell all of you, I live for this day right here.

All sarcasm aside, the only saving grace of the entire experience is that I get to laugh at them hysterically as they stumble around and make complete asses of themselves. In all fairness, last year was pretty damn funny.

I won’t talk about the one for my uncle’s 50th birthday. That’s something the family as a whole just… doesn’t talk about. Heh.

I am the official DD for these events, so viewing everything stone cold sober is really entertaining in a way; that is until everything gets ugly. Hopefully this year there won’t be any problems.

How May I Help You?

Aries: Controlling a situation and directing it are two very different things. Be respectful of natural timing and the needs of everyone around you, and you can help facilitate the most benevolent outcome possible.

Gee, even my horoscope says I am a controlling freak. Maybe I will just quit talking to everyone now.

On a totally unrelated note - my car is still in the shop. We had this huge-type hailstorm on 16 Feb, and my car has been in the garage since the 18th. I've had this crappy little rental car for 16 days now, let me tell you, that shit is expensive. Might as well have had two car payments this month.

It was actually ready Tuesday afternoon. When I got to the body shop, the hood was completely crooked and didn't match up with the rest of the car. There were some other places that were still broken too.. this after having my car for 14 days. Their response? 'Oops.'

Customer service is a lost art, definately.

....Yer Outta Here!

This post has been sanitized for your protection.

Thank you.

Say What?

Aries: A partnership takes center stage right now. While you didn't really think this was going anywhere, it soon becomes key to finding balance in your increasingly busy life. Pay attention to your feelings for this person.

Horoscopes are funny, funny things.