uncle...i whimper it with all the might of a squashed bug. this has been a bitch of a week. i've dealt with family, friend and work crises every night. during the days i worked long overtimes in order to make and test asphalt so that unreasonable contractors and spineless managers could leave their jobs at the normal time and go home to their families, eat a nice dinner and sleep well and long knowing that they are the reason the jobs are proceeding on schedule (and, yes, i will be in front of my 500+ degree furnaces tomorrow so said buttheads can come to work monday morning and see the finished tests in a "timely" manner and congratulate themselves on their wonderful management skills).
but tonight it's friday night. and that means drinking beer, watching baseball, playing loud music, perhaps visiting the garden gnome and forcing myself to feel 20 years younger. i had planned on going to the tower theater and watching whatshisname myazaki's newest film (he's the gent who made spirited away, kiki's delivery service, porco rosso and others) or check out romeo and juliet at woodward park. once i got home, though, neither was an option. i've checked in and checked out. put a "do not disturb" sign on the door. hung a green sock on the knob so everyone will know i am in flagrante derelicto.
so, uncle...which is a very weird looking word when i think about it. from the latin avunculus. we also have avuncular, a word i know but never understood. but i think of carbuncle and garfuncle and feel that uncle is not a word. it is an addendum to something. huh, carbuncle could be your fat relative. bob's your uncle. funcle was a word used to describe cool shit until the letter Y was invented and someone discovered that Y always proceeds K. "funcle town" would never have hit the charts.
weird is, also, a weird word. I before E except after C. weird defies the rules. poo-poos convention. spits into the wind. tugs on superman's cape. pulls the mask of the old lone ranger and messes around with jim. weird revels in being the bad boy of the dictionary. while all of the other words stand in line waiting for benediction from webster or some other wannabe writer (i mean, my goodness, his book was absolute plagiarism. all he did was steal the words others had written before him without adding anything original other than expounding upon the obvious), some say it's witchcraft (sinatra does). others just sing along to the musical stylings of the Weird Sisters.
but the weather is nice finally. it's getting back to being what passes for summer in seattle minus the humidity. warm days, cool but not yet crisp nights. i can't wait for the crisp. i'm a crispy lovin' critter. probably why i love bacon so much. and burnt toast. and eggs over hard. and peeling the skin off other people's sunburns.
but i love cold. i know that a lot of humans love cold, but for me it goes beyond that. i'm the ape who will eat nothing but bananas even though it's a stereotype his forebears have tried hard to steer their fellow primates away from. it's a relationship born in the womb. i will take the hottest, steamiest shower in the dead of winter, but open the window so that 30 degree wind can counterstream over my body. maybe it's a sweet and sour sauce. i want my pores open and my nipples hard. my muscles relaxed and my ball sack climbing mount everest. bondage, but the key's within reach. total lack of commitment. cake, a big fork and living somewhere other than france.
the other thing that's bothering me is that about three weeks ago i washed a bunch of laundry and forgot to put it in the dryer for four days. i finally did, but pulled it out only to find that everything smelled of mildew even after 90 minutes of hot. i wore a couple of workshirts despite the odor. then i threw everything back inot the washer, because i knew i couldn't live with it. tonight i got home, stripped out of my work clothes and pulled on comfy stuff. the shirt i chose was from the closet. it smells not of elderberries. it smells of a mild toe fungus. or that white stuff that squirts out of an ear piecing hole that's not been used in some time. i'm still wearing the shirt despite this, because it is a comfortable shirt (the top three buttons pop open when i breathe deeply even though it's still too large for me). but it has a stench that my nose picks at like a finger at a ripening scab.
i think tonight's musical entertainment will be comprised of an album by Bloodhound Gang, Sublime or Little Feat. by the way, can you think of anything stupider than buying 3 vinyl records by the Pogues online when you don't even have a record player?
so, today i pulled a joke. there's this guy at work who's very cool and funny, but likes to abuse and play pranks. not too long ago he had to get his two front teeth pulled and now wears a retainer with fakes built in. two nights ago i shaved my head for comfort. last night he shaved his head to mock me. this morning he came in wearing the same work shirt as me (we have many different ones) and said "hey! you weren't supposed to wear that shirt! now we look like twins!". i thought about it, then went and found some electrical tape, blacked out my teeth, found my boss and said "watch this". went over to this guy's work station, pulled my shirt over my belly and yelled out "heidie ho! i'm a Ditch Bank Oakie!"while smiling really big so he and everyone else could see the tape. then i found my aim and was able to throw things and hit him for the rest of the day. he is going to get me back in a big way and i can't wait. it's what makes working in a lab bearable.
oh, fuck uncle. as incestuous as that sounds i'm getting more beer. and i'm going to howl at the cat and the tv and the computer screen and hope that my neighbor needs to take a shower tonight (her curtain is a dress thrown across the window...doesn't work as well she thinks).
happy FNF. for the rules, go here... just fuckin' witcha. there ain't no rules.