Terms of Not-So-Much-Endearment

Recently I've realized that I have a standard set of epithets I use for my best friends when they provoke me* into insulting them; and while a few of the epithets might get spread around, I tend to group specific terms with specific people.  For example, Flunky is, of course, "jackass";  Cap'n Shack-Fu generally elicits a "punk," occasionally upgraded to "Punky Brewster"; The Lovable PigPen is usually "ginger bastage," although I'll sometimes throw a "soulless" in there if he's been particularly PigPen-ish; and TopGun is lucky enough to get three levels: "jerk", followed by "jerk-face", and, last but not least, the compound epithet reflected in the following text message exchange** from last week which is the actual impetus for this post:

Me:  Can now go home and goof off. . .or maybe work out. . .nah, definitely goof off.
Him:  Aren't your workouts generally the same as goofing off? BURN!
Me:  Dear jerk-faced doo-doo head:  Why are you such a jerk-faced doo-doo head?  Sincerely, a non-jerk-faced, non-doo-doo dead.
Him:  Dear non-jerk-faced doo-doo head . . . as I am a jerk-faced doo-doo head . . . it is difficult for me to examine the reasons why I am this way.  Can a tiger tell us why they have stripes . . .or the great white tell us why they like to eat surfers . . .no. they cannot . . . and so, neither can I. It is just my nature . . .sincerely, jerk-faced doo-doo head
Me:  . . .I'll say this . . . you sure are an eloquent jerk-faced doo-doo head.

As for Li'l Random, he doesn't get a special nickname for those provoking moments; instead, I just call him "Li'l Brother" like always, except I load my voice with gallons of disappointment -- surprisingly effective.



*Yes, it's all their fault, I'm totally innocent, I swear.
**For the record, all ellipses in the quoted text are actual ellipses from our messages, and not signs of me editing things out.

Fragmented Fri. - Goodnight, Champ

Since I haven't blogged regularly for quite a while, I thought I'd use today to catch all you blog monkeys up on what's going on in my neurotic little world . . . but then I realized there really isn't all that much to report.

I suppose there is one thing; remember last year when I resolved to start eating better and lose some weight? Well, I'm resolving it again, only this time I'm hoping to stick it out a bit longer. My current goal: to fit back into size 34 jeans while I'm still 34, which gives me about 4 1/2 months to do so. Today marked my 5th day without a soft drink of any kind, as well as my 5th day without fast food. TopGun and I have been working out, and tomorrow I plan to join the gym so I can have access to an elliptical and work on my cardio again.

This past week on Facebook has somehow been declared "Retro Week" prompting people to replace their normal avatars with younger pictures of themselves. I decided to be a good little sheep and follow the trend.

Zinger asked me if this retro-picture would be accompanied by some retro blogging. "Is there something exciting from you past you haven't blogged about yet?" he asked. Sadly, I'm still drawing a blank.

Last night The Lovable PigPen came up to Denton to hang out for a bit. He was about ready to leave around 11 when he decided to challenge me to a quick game of tennis on the Wii; despite my better judgment I agreed, and so it was that "one quick game" turned into several hours worth of game play. I wound up not getting to sleep until almost 3*; it was a lot like when we were still rooming together and would stay up all night playing video games, with the exception that neither of us picked a fight with the other this time around. Oh, well, maybe next time.

A while back, TopGun and I were watching a movie where somebody sent their kid to bed saying "Goodnight, champ!" I turned to TopGun and told him that's what I was going to say from now on when he went to bed; surprisingly enough, I have done this pretty faithfully for several months now, and now "Champ" has become the real-world nickname I use when I text/email him**

I don't normally talk about my friends' relationships here, but I just had to mention that my best bud Li'l Random McEvil is now engaged to be married, so I'll be heading to Florida next year for his wedding. Congrats, Li'l Brother!

*This evening TopGun told me I needed to inform PigPen he's not allowed to come over on school nights anymore
**Much like how in real life Li'l Random is Li'l Brother, Cap'n Shack-Fu is Bubba, and The Lovable PigPen is Ginger Bastage

Move Over, Li'l Random, There's a New "Grey Man" In Town!

At the beginning of May, another poor soul found himself subjected to the psychological torture that is being my roommate. I learned pretty early on that TopGun shares Li'l Random's desire to be the Grey Man and fade into the background; so, naturally, I'm doing a special spotlight post all about him.

When I moved into Shack-Fu's house last November, the arrangement was that after he finished the academy and moved out, I would search for someone to rent out the extra room, a process I wasn't really looking forward to. So, when Shack-Fu called me to say that a friend of his was going to be moving to the area and needed a place to live, I was more than happy accept the excuse to avoid the roommate interview process for a bit longer. I was a bit leery about having someone I'd never met move in; I figured that the Shack-Fu Seal of Approval meant he'd be a stand-up guy, but that didn't necessarily mean that our personalities would mesh well. After all, when I asked Shack about my future roomie, he told me "he reminds me a lot of you, actually," and, well, let's face it: historically I have not always been my favorite person -- luckily, while TopGun and I have discovered some similarities, none have been of the overly-neurotic nature.

One personality trait that we discovered in common on his first night in town was that we are both people who don't do so well being thrust into new groups of people, and both tend to keep to ourselves in the beginning until we get a good sense of the group. Being cognizant of that, I tried hard to be a bit more outgoing in our initial conversations, in order to overcome the awkward zone. Luckily, we found our own ice breaking commonality pretty easily -- swapping Shack-Fu stories. And while that definitely opened up avenues of conversation, I think our burgeoning friendship really began to gel when Shack-Fu came back into town for a week. TopGun and I had been getting along pretty well, but I think the presence of our mutual friend made us both a little more comfortable letting our true selves show, and I quickly discovered another common bond: the bond of smartassery. Granted, thanks to his generally laid-back persona, TopGun's brand of smartass behavior is a bit more dry and deadpan than what I've grown accustomed to after the past few years of hanging out with The Lovable PigPen and Cap'n Peanut, but as they say, variety is the spice of life.

However, while we do have some traits in common, there are also some pretty big differences. First of all there's the whole "Grey Man" thing; as I've noted before, although I am prone to Cap'n Cellophane moments, I actually kind of like being the center of attention. TopGun, on the other hand, is not likely to perform a humorous interp in front of his co-workers or dance his fool head off at a New Year's Eve party or sing the Popular song in a crowded restaurant. But at least that's a fairly innocuous difference, and not one that's likely to cause many problems; some of the other differences though . . . I mean, look, I'm a pretty tolerant guy for the most part, but even I have my limits. Seriously; rooming with a laid-back, self-motivated, productive person who eats healthy food and works out every day? It makes me shudder just to think about it! I frequently accuse him of only working out so diligently because he's trying to shame me into getting off of my butt and doing something, and have threatened to make his nickname "Showoff" of "Showboater"; even worse, it's actually worked -- he's got me to agree to do the P90X program with him. I think he may have gotten some mental-manipulation tips from Count Shackula

All kidding aside, I'm very surprised at how quickly I've felt comfortable just being myself around him; as all the loyal blog monkeys know, it usually takes me several months before I let down my guard around new folks. Whether my new-found openness is a product of our personalities clicking just right, or my feeling generally more comfortable with myself than I used to, or something else entirely, I don't know; whatever the reason, I'm glad that I've been able to bypass most of my neurotic hangups and just let the real Todd manifest, and even more glad that getting to know the real Todd has not sent him off running, screaming into the night.

Then again, it's early days yet -- it took PigPen at least a couple of months of rooming with me to start plotting my death . . .

Welcome to the roller-coaster ride that is being my friend, TopGun; hope your sanity survives the experience.

We Watched the Watchmen*

Last night Li'l Random and I headed to the Movie Tavern for the midnight screening of Watchmen. When I bought the tickets a few days earlier, the guy suggested we get there by 10:30 or 11:00, and that they'd probably start seating at 11:00. I, being a perpetual early bird, got there about 10:15, and there were a handful of people already there and waiting; Li'l Random showed up right at 10:30, which is when the bulk of the people started to flow in; by 10:45 the lobby was incredibly crowded. They did indeed start seating at 11:00, but only allowed 20 people in at a time, allowing enough time in between each wave for people to find seats and possibly order their food. Li'l Random and I wound up barely missing the first cut, but were the lead offs of the second wave and so were easily able to get seats in our regular spot; I think it took most of that hour before showtime to get everyone in and seated.

One of the things I like about going to the Movie Tavern on premiere nights is that there are usually a couple of their wait staff dressed up as characters from the movie; last night there was a Silk Spectre and a Rorschach. I did turn to Li'l Random and remark that if someone showed up painted blue and in a speedo (or worse), I was out of there; when I mentioned this fact to Zinger this morning, he posited that that guy was there, but that I just didn't see him because he was too busy cooking in the back. Thanks for the nightmare fuel, Zinger!

The crowd was pretty lively leading up to the show starting, and Li'l Random wondered if we were going to have to sit through that the whole time; I assured him that from the rabid fangirl conversation I had overheard in line before he got there, there was at least one scrappy female who would be willing to crack some heads if they got in the way of her enjoying the film experience. Still, the concern seemed like it might be justified when the trailers started and the promo for Wolverine: Origins started; have never heard such clamor over a trailer in my life. The noise level continued through the Terminator: Salvation trailer as well, but died off when the movie itself started . . . mostly. There was one idiot who kept making whooping noises early on during the initial fight scene and Rorschach's investigation, but someone near him yelled at him to shut up, and despite a quick rebuttal along the brilliant lines of "No, you shut up!" the troublemaker shut his pie hole, and we made it through the rest of the film with no other incidents -- except, that is, for some distractions provided by the girls seated on either side of Li'l Random and myself.

The girl seated near Li'l Random spent a good portion of the last quarter of the film sounding like she was about to cough up her lungs, which always makes for an enjoyable experience for all involved, but at least her significant other seated in between her and Li'l Random served as a bit of a buffer. The girl seated right next to me, however, was slightly more distracting as two thing quickly became apparent: (1) She was incredibly squeamish when it came to blood and gore, and (2) That said squeamishness took the form of much squirming, squealing, and whimpering for the duration of the bloody sequence. And while the film was far from a non-stop gore-fest, director Zack Snyder definitely didn't shy away from ramping up the brutality factor when violence was called for.

As for the movie itself, well, I don't want to give too much away, but I will say that I thought that on the whole Snyder did a good job adapting a very difficult text. Was it perfect? Hardly, although I can probably chalk some of my problems to being such a big fan of the comic that when Snyder's interpretation didn't quite jibe with my own, I found it jarring; most of those moments revolved around Ozymandias. Not quite sure what it was, but the movie version of Veidt rubbed me the wrong way from the get-go. On the flip-side, pretty much every scene with Rorschach was pure gold, as Jackie Earle Haley (probably best known for his role as the rebellious Kelly Leak in the original Bad News Bears films) managed to perfectly capture the spirit of my favorite character from the book.

Much has been made among the comic geek world about the ending of the film, which differs from the book; I have to say that, from my point of view, the culmination of the villainous plot in the movie works just as well as that of the book, if not more so, but I know your mileage may vary on that one.

On the whole, I enjoyed the movie quite a bit, as did Li'l Random, although it's interesting to me that we came at this enjoyment from two vastly different areas. After all, for him this was a new story, whereas for me it was simply a long awaited adaptation of a work that I have read countless times since I first got a copy of the trade paperback for Christmas of 1988. Yes, that's right, it's been 20 years since I first read Watchmen; if that doesn't make me feel old, nothing will. Anyway, those of us comic geeks who have basically grown up in the aftermath of Watchmen have become a bit jaded to its deconstruction of heroics what with the preponderance of grim'n'gritty books that followed, but to someone whose only real exposure to super-heroics is TV and Movies, the overly humanized heroes here are something of a revelation.

I really hope some more of my non-comic-geek friends see it soon; I'm incredibly curious to see how the bulk of the uninitiated react to it.

*For the record, in my head that title has the word "Watched" pronounced with two distinct syllables: "We Watch-Ed the Watchmen." Why? Partly because the meter better matches the original quote that way, and partly because it amuses me. Okay, mostly because it amuses me.

Fragmented Friday - Ulterior Smile

Was getting ready to type up a Fragmented Friday post when I noticed that there was one saved in my drafts which I had started last November, before NaNoWriMo derailed my blogging but good. So, first, some old stories from before Cap'n Shack-Fu set off to Quantico.

• One weekend Shack-Fu, Li'l Random and I got together for dinner and a movie. At one point during our meal -- which was shockingly not at Texas Roadhouse -- Shack left himself wide open for a crack at his expense, and I took full advantage of it. As Shack gave me the menacing death glare, Li'l Random began to laugh; Shack quickly turned the glare in Li'l Brother's direction and asked "What are you laughing at?" Random replied "Oh, I just took a bite of my sandwich, and the lettuce tickled." He then quickly took another bite, let out a little tee-hee and said "Look, there it goes again."
  
  
• A little while later during the same meal, Li'l Brother got a funny little grin on his face as Shack-Fu and I were having some more back-and-forth, prompting Shack to ask what he was smiling about. Li'l Brother asked "What, I can't smile now?" My response was that it was obviously an ulterior smile.
  
  
• Another time a week or so later, the three of us were eating at Texas Roadhouse -- I know, how unlike us, right? We wound up with a waitress who had not had the pleasure of serving us before, nor had her co-workers warned her about the joys of dealing with a trio of HyperForce 3000ers. Li'l Random almost blew her brain with his randomness, but she got her revenge - albeit inadvertent - a bit later. First she asked Shack-Fu if he was a preacher -- "You just give off that kind of vibe," quoth she -- and when he told her that actually he and Li'l Brother worked together, she expressed disbelief, stating that she had been sure Li'l Babyface was only 16.
  

And now for a few more recent things

• Let's start with a more up-to-date Shack-Fu tidbit; my best bud has received his orders for his first assignment after the academy. For his first two years as an agent, Shack will be working out of Tulsa, OK. While he had been hoping for an OKC assignment, due to it being closer to friends and family, Tulsa really isn't that much farther away. Sure, the extra two hours distance will mean the day trips to visit aren't quite as feasible, but at least he'll be close enough that we won't need air fare to make a quick visit possible.
  
  
• For the first time in my life, I completed my tax return before April. Part of this whole "trying to be organized" thing I'm trying out. We'll see how long that lasts
  
  
• Hand in hand with my move towards organization is my New Years resolution to start eating better and exercising regularly in an effort to lose some weight. Okay, not just some weight; a lot of weight. So far, it's going well. I'm working out at least 5 times a week, even without Cap'n Shack-Fu around to drag me off my butt; I've been fixing my own meals at home rather than succumbing to my fast food cravings; and, most impressively to some, I have cut down my Coca-cola intake to one day a week. I'm finding it much easier to stick to the diet now that I'm living alone and don't have to worry about tempting food brought in by my roomies. I'm also being much more open about my attempt than I have in the past; I used to tell very few people, because I was afraid of failing, but now I figure that the more people who know, the more accountability there is. My initial goal is to lose 40 lbs; I'm already a little over 1/3 of the way there.
  
  
• A few days ago I posted a few pictures from high school on Facebook; being from the early 90s, there were many examples of female hairdos that defied the laws of physics. For some reason, some of these females weren't exactly happy to have their early stylistic choices put on view for all Facebook to see. And thus began a wave of photos being posted online in what I like to call The Nostalgia Wars; at this moment, Redneck Diva seems to be the clear winner, armed as she is with a range of Student Council, Band, and Competitive Speech photos, but it's early days yet in the war; early days*.
  
  
• Zinger posited the other day that the reason for the lack of blogging was because my life is so much more boring now that I'm living alone. I do think that's part of it; life without day-to-day interaction with The Lovable PigPen is definitely not as interesting, although it might be slightly healthier for my ego. And with Cap'n Shack-Fu at Quantico, and Li'l Brother travelling with work, most of the sources for good blog fodder just aren't as handy as they once were. But the recent Wyandottian explosion on Facebook is stirring up the high school memories like crazy, so there may be some more nostalgia-laden posts from that as well.
  

*Sadly, I don't have much more ammo in my arsenal, having lost a ton of pictures when our house burned down years ago

Movie Mon - Return of the Odd Squodd Movie Night

City of Ember: Entertaining post-apocalyptic family film -- yes, that's right, a post-apocalyptic family film -- about the remnants of humanity who live in an underground city which is starting to fall apart around them, and a couple of teens who think they've discovered the secret to their society's salvation. The trailers for this one were a little iffy for me, but the movie itself turned out to be enjoyable.

Amusement: Okay horror movie that follows three girls who had been friends in high school who find themselves the targets of horrific happenings.. The structure is interesting, as each girl's initial encounter is presented as a self-contained tale until they all dovetail at the end. Unfortunately, I found it at its most engaging when it felt more like a classic portmanteau horror film; once it actually brought all the threads together, it lost a bit of steam.

Repo! The Genetic Opera: Dark and twisty musical about a future where organ failure has become a common problem, and one company has become the leading force in organ replacement surgeries, even offering payment plans, but with a catch: if someone misses a payment, they get hunted down by the murderous RepoMan (Anthony Steward Head, a.k.a. Giles from Buffy) who repossess the organs in question. This was the selection for last Thursday's Odd Squodd Movie Night because, on the face of it, this sounds like our sort of movie, right? Bizarre plot, lots of horror-tinged themes, and people singing about it, headlined by a former Buffy star . . . should have been a home run, right? Not quite. My biggest quibble was the music; it's set up like an opera in that the bulk of the dialogue is sung, but in the majority of the cases there is no internal rhyme scheme, or consistent meter, or coherent musical structure; instead, it's often like they just wrote the script, started playing their electric guitars, and told the people to start singing. My love of a musical is largely tied into clever wordplay and catchy/memorable songs; in Repo! there were really only two songs that made any sort of positive impact on me, everything else fell flat. Interestingly enough, those were also the only two songs I had heard before I saw the film, so I probably had unrealistic expectations about the nature of the soundtrack. Li'l Random enjoyed it more than I did, but then again he's much less of a musical snob than I am. Outside of the music, the film had quite a bit going for it, in an Odd Squodd sort of way, but I just had trouble getting into it.

Ghost Town: Surprisingly enjoyable romantic comedy about a misanthropic dentist (Ricky Gervais) who briefly dies during a routine medical procedure and gains the ability to see ghosts, one of whom enlists him in trying to break up the dead man's widow and her current beau. I was unsure about this one going in because Ricky Gervais is very hit or miss with me, but it actually turned out to be a pretty funny movie with only one or two parts that made me squirm in uncomfortableness.

Savage Grace: A dramatization of the true life murder of Barbara Baekeland (Julianne Moore) by her mentally unbalanced son Tony, with the film chronicling the strange family dynamics from the time of Tony's birth. A well acted film, but not one I particularly enjoyed, even before it veered into incest.

Mirrors: Horror film about an alcoholic former cop (Kiefer Sutherland) who takes a job as a security guard at an abandoned building and finds himself being haunted by a force that attacks through mirrors. Pretty entertaining horror flick, although the strained dynamic between Kiefer's character and his estranged wife got a little tiresome.

Disaster Movie: A spoof film brought to you by the same team as Meet the Spartans and Epic Movie; as such, the film relies mainly on the "pop culture parody overload" theory of comedy. Seriously, while talking to a co-worker about it, I was able to think of 30 separate pop culture references crammed into it, and out of those I'd say maybe a fifth were actual disaster movies. As with most of the slate of spoofs that have flourished since Scary Movie, the sheer number of jokes they cram in will usually result in at least a couple hitting; for me, this one had a higher hit-to-miss ration than usual, most of the successful comedy bits revolving out of the spoof of Amy Adams' character in Enchanted, who turns out not to be a princess from a fairy tale world, but a delusional homeless woman living in the sewers. Pretty much any scene with her in it cracked me up.

The Dead One: Supernatural super-hero tale about a young man who has been chosen to serve as a catalyst for the return of the Aztec gods, but who struggles against their compulsions in order to save the woman he loves. Based on the comic book El Muerto: The Aztec Zombie, this indie film may have had a shoe-string budget, but turned out to be pretty enjoyable overall.

Death Race: Surprisingly well-put together futuristic action film about a man who has been framed for murder in order to bring him in as a driver for a race where the drivers are criminals, the cars are equipped with live ammo, and the grand prize is freedom. Predictable to be sure, but somehow it never felt cliched to me. Some nice action sequences.

Traitor: Well done thriller about a man infiltrating an Islamic terrorist group. Pretty solid little film; it was interesting to see Don Cheadle kicking butt, and I especially liked the way he thwarted the big bombing plan at the end -- took me by surprise. This was another film where I found myself scrutinizing the depiction of FBI agents; it really is odd how sensitive I've become to that since Cap'n Shack-Fu headed off to the academy. Guy Pierce's character passed the "doing the FBI proud" test; Neal McDonough, however, fell a bit short with his lacking interrogation skills.

The Seeker: The Dark is Rising: Adaptation of the second volume of Susan Cooper's The Dark is Rising series of books about the battle between the forces of good and evil; in this case, the battle is centered around Will Stanton, the 7th son of a 7th son who is prophesied to lead the forces to light to victory over the rising dark. I enjoyed the film the most in its earlier parts when it focuses on Will dealing with his very large family; as the fantasy elements rose to prominence, the film seemed to lose its way. Not a bad film, but I couldn't help feeling like it squandered its potential.

Fragmented Friday - Suicidal Penguins Complect the Formular

• Second week in a row that I've managed a M-F posting schedule; I told Zinger I'd have to be careful doing stuff like this, otherwise people might start to expect it. He replied that he supposed he'd let me get by with a M-T-F posting schedule; he's quite the magnanimous soul, isn't he?
  
  
• The other day I headed to the post office to pick up my mail, since they still haven't replaced the missing mail box. Having learned my lesson the first time, I made sure to bring a book to read to help pass the time; due to this, I didn't notice that one of my coworkers was in line a few people behind me until I passed by him on my way up to the window to get help. After the postal worker went in the back to retrieve my mail, I turned around to say hi to the coworker when out of the corner of my eye I noticed some weirdo donning the Junior Birdman goggles.
  
  No, not that weirdo; Li'l Weirdo! Which was a surprise to me, since the last I knew he was out on deployment. I went over to say hi and before I could even think to give him a hard time he blurted out "I just got back into town, I swear!" It's like he was expecting me to accuse him of hiding out from me or something; why he would think such a thing I have no idea . . .
  
  
• Last Friday we had our final cook-out at Cap'n Cluck's parents' house. We did most of the usual things; roasted hot dogs, roasted marshmallows, played Mafia, watched the Mafia game devolve into a mass of confusion and chaos . . . y'know the usual.
  
  
• While discussing old TV shows at the cook-out, I mentioned M*A*S*H*, which prompted Angel to ask "Do you know what the name of that theme song was?" I answered immediately: "Suicide is Painless." One of the newer, nickless Singles got a confused look on his face and asked "Did you just say 'Suicidal pandas'?" It does have a nice ring to it, doesn't it?
  
  
• I'm proud to say that after my Victoria Jackson post, CoIM is now the number one Google hit for the search term "eagleboob." On a related note, this week also marked the first time I ever received a blog hit from someone Googling the keywords "paraplegic porn" which took them to this post. Truly, accomplishments to be proud of.
  
  
• In preparing for yesterday's Amberbama post, I tracked down the email I had originally sent out to family and friends describing the experience at the time, as well as the Essence of Amber message board thread; you can read Rebel Monkey's version of events there. Going back through all the posts I was amazed at what all I had forgotten; six years is a long time.
  
  
• Miss ArkanSass should be flying in to town this evening, and I'm still not 100% sure what movie to pick for her first Odd Squodd movie fest; should I try to introduce her and Li'l Random to horror comedies Murder Party or Student Bodies? Should I pick one of the Netflix that should be here by then, like Run Fat Boy Run or The Foot Fist Way? Decisions, decisions!
  
  
• My favorite spam email of the moment is one which promises me a tax refund from the IRS if I can receive on my credit card if I just, and I quote, "Complect the Formular."

Fragmented Friday - Five for Five

• Earlier today I got a message from Zinger: "This could be your first full week of posting in a long time" Well, despite being nearly overwhelmed by a desire not to post just to be contrary, I finally decided to buckle down and type something up, making this my first M-F posting schedule since last June.
  
  
• Despite the great benefits of the saline nasal rinse, I have been having a horrible time with my allergies these last couple of weeks. I've had to restock on Claritin-D and antihistamines to keep things under control; when I went to watch PigPen and Cap'n Bumper play softball on Wednesday I barely made it through the first game of their double header, and had to bow out of the second one. I'm afraid I might also have to cut short my time at the Single's campfire at Cap'n Cluck's parents' house tonight, which is a shame, since they're selling the house making this our last one there.
  
  
• Tomorrow I'm heading down to Lucas to visit Clan Stoneheart. All through the week Zinger's been asking me what I was wanting to do while I was down there, and my answer was pretty much a consistent "I dunno." Well, a little while ago he called me to tell me that he and Pooh-bear had come up with something for us to do that night and that I'd want to make sure I brought some slacks and a polo-type shirt with me. Haven't the foggiest idea what we'll be doing, but with luck it will help with blog fodder for next week.
  
  
• Speaking of blog fodder, when I was typing up yesterday's post about short films, it dawned on me that, although I've made passing comments about it and have pledged to go into greater detail several times, I still have not done a full-fledged post about my trip to the Sidewalk Film Festival in Birmingham, AL back in '02. Look for it next Thursday; if it's not here, then I will have failed in my duty as a faithful blogger. But, what else is new?
  
  
• I mentioned that I'd watched one of my tapes with PigPen and Cap'n Peanut on Saturday, but I didn't mention that although PigPen had originally said they would try to make it up here, I wound up watching it at their place. See, during the heaviest part of the rain dumped on us by Ike on Saturday, I texted PigPen to see if they were still coming up; he replied that it would depend on the weather, plus Peanut's parents were taking him out to dinner for his birthday, and there was no telling when they'd get done, but if I wanted, he could let me know when they were back and then I could come down there and watch it. My first thought was "doubt I'll go," since I hate driving in the rain and I hate driving at night, and I really hate driving in the rain at night. Almost immediately following this thought, however, was a practical question I quickly posited to him: "Did you guys get a VCR?" He quickly replied in the negative, saying I would have to provide that as well. Glad I asked, huh? By the time he texted to see if I was still wanting to come down, it was no longer rainign, and I was so restless after a day of botched plans* that I didn't even let the worry that it might start raining again keep me from hopping in the car with my VCR, which I had stuffed in my backpack to help keep it dry. No sooner had I started the car than I got another text from PigPen reminding me that I needed to bring the VCR. I shook my head at his lack of faith in me and backed out of the driveway, not realizing until I was half-way there that while I had remembere the VCR, I had forgotten its remote control.
  
  
• Only one more week until Miss ArkanSass comes to visit; hopefull Li'l Random will be back from deployment by then . . .
  
  
• There's been a small explosion of familiar faces popping up on Facebook recently, both from high school** and college. Two of the Wyandottians, neither of whom I've seen or talked to in ages, both mentioned that they've read my blog, which surprised me; I have this mental image that my blog only gets read by people I have regular contact with. Of course, one of them mentioned she found it through Redneck Diva, which explains it.
  
  
• One of the Facebook features is a "People You May Know" suggestion, which shows you the names of other Facebook members who have at least two friends in common with you. Most of the time I have no idea who the suggested people are, and so have to look at the common friends to find out why they've been suggested; generally, the common friends will make sense (Zinger and Pooh-bear; Cap'n Bubbles and her roomied Brown-Eyed Girl; etc.), but every once in a while there will be one that throws me, like when I saw that one of the suggested people was friends with my long-time Parkerite friend Coronela and also with my young cousin who's a senior in high school; turns out the suggested friend is classmates with my cousing, and one of Coronela's step-sisters. Last night I had four or five suggestions pop up who were all friends with a Wyandottian who was a Senior when I was in 8th grade and also with my college roomie Wrath teh Berzerkr's younger sibling; not sure where the connection there comes in.

*This was also the day that my movie watching and costume shopping with Li'l Random got scrapped due to his being deployed.
**So far, only two people from my graduating class have joined, one of whom pretty much joined, accepted my friend request, and hasn't been back one since. Was it something I said?

Fragmented Friday - Argentinian Warlord!

I hadn't been at work for very long this morning before one of the ladies in my unit came over to tell me they'd found a snake in the mail room -- guess PigPen won't be dropping by my office to visit ever again . . .

Despite already having head a generous helping of chocolate, sugar and caffeine this morning, I am still not quite awake. I blame the strange dreams I've been having all week long; very vivid, and often very stressful, filled with people yelling and fighting and dying and such. So, even though I've been getting plenty of sleep, it hasn't been all that restful.

I am currently addicted to the Word Twist game application on Facebook where you're given random letters and try to make as many words as possible before time runs out. Bonus points come for any word that uses all the letter. Think my favorite bonus word so far is a toss-up between "jujubes" and "bumbag," the latter of which is the British name for a fanny-pack; if you know your British slang, you'll know why they avoid saying "fanny" in polite conversation. Anyway, as often happens when I play a compute game obsessively, it's now gotten to the point that when I close my eyes at night I see the letters swirling around in my mind. I would try to draw a connection between that and my disturbing dreams, but so far neither jujubes nor bumbags have made an appearance . . . so far . . .

Miss ArkanSass has made plans to head to Denton for a visit in a few weeks, and has requested to take part in The Odd Squodd Mostly-Regular Dark and Twisty, Strange and Unusual, Off-Beat, Quirky, Movie Fest. She has also requested that I be the one to pick out the film, since she's "seen what sort of movies Li'l Random picks*." She seems to be overlooking the fact that Li'l Random and I do share a brain, with our two halves actually being joined at the movie-choosing portion of the cerebellum.

Li'l Random has renamed Firestorm, the Nuclear Man as "Dr. Fantastic." Why? No reason that could be understood by anyone not named "Li'l Random." On a related note, everyone's favorite random nickname magnet has acquired yet another nick: The Argentinian Warlord. Now, there is a reason for this one, but not one I can relate in a family-friendly blog; despite this, Li'l Brother insisted that I title at least one blog post with the new name, and, fearful that he might live up to the horrible implications of the name, I have acquiesced.

I'm about ready to remove MSN Messenger from my Trillian settings thanks to the endless stream of spam messages I've been receiving for the last couple of weeks: "Hi, my name is [insert random female name here]. I really want to chat with you, but I can't get MSN to stay logged in. Come visit my blog at [insert doubtless pornographic and virus laden link here]"

One of the more interesting of my recent vivid dreams had me attending Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, except, instead of the Westchester campus as seen in any X-men comic, cartoon, or movie, the campus was actually good ol' Wyandotte High School, and when the plot of the dream required me to head to the living quarters of the school it was the bedroom of my childhood home, where I found my favorite pet cat, Itty Bitty, sleeping soundly on my bed. In the dream I was hiding from the bad guys and had to decide if I was going to take Bitty with me or not, but then decided that he would be safe because the villains had a strange affinity for cats, an idea that came from the book I'm currently reading, Curfew. I wonder if Bitty appeared because of that book, or if the book logic only appeared because Bitty did. The subconscious is a funny thing, no?

My CD/MP3 player at work has been acting progressively more wonky over the last month or two, which, coupled with the fact that my home computer's CD burner is no longer wanting to burn CDs, has made me more and more determined to break down and get an iPod when my raise goes into effect on my October paycheck. However, the fact that the CD player refused to play my Lostprophets CD this morning, thus denying me of my "Shinobi vs. Dragon Ninja" fix, has made my iPod jones that much stronger.

During the aforementioned X-men dream, as the other students and I prepared for an attack on the campus, who should come running up the front steps of the school but Li'l Random, yelling that we should take cover. I looked past him to see a ginormous fireball flying through the air, and so quickly scrambled into my mom's old classroom for cover. Li'l Random, however, kept running down the hallway past me as the fireball hit the ground outside the school and the resultant shockwave shattered the front windows, hurling shards of glass in Li'l Bro's direction. I yelled at him to get down, but instead he did what Li'l Random always does when faced with a situation that's too much for him in real life: retreated into the standing fetal position. When I related this story to him, he asked "Did it work?" Indeed, I said, he escaped with barely a scratch. "That's my mutant power," he exclaimed, "super fetal position!"

And last but not least, a quick congratulations to Super Fetal Position Lad, who has just gotten a very nice promotion at work; in addition to being a great opportunity for him, the change in positions also means that the possibility of him being relocated to Washington D.C. for a year come October no longer exists, which is a big relief for all those who compete for The Argentinian Warlord's company.


*Quoth Miss ArkanSass: "He made me watch Cube." Which made me exclaim incredulously "You didn't like Cube?"

The Ham of Dogpatch, USA

You may recall that a while back I mentioned that Brown-Eyed Girl had been cast as one of the Dogpatch wives in the Denton Community Theater's productin of Li'l Abner. What I haven't mentioned is that a few weeks before the show opened she sent an email out asking for "muscular guys" to volunteer to help out as sort of background characters; three guesses which of my best buds answered the call.

Yup, that's right, The Lovable PigPen was kind enough to offer up his body for the good of the theater. When he came home the night of his first rehearsal he told me that he actually got a featured, if non-speaking, part. You see, part of the plot of the play is that there is this special tonic which will transform any guy drinking it into the picture of perfect masculinity. The big reveal of this is when a government agent drinks the potion,



stumbles off stage, and returns a changed man*.


In essence, PigPen's role consisted of him wearing a tattered shirt, ripping it off, flexing and calling attention to his physique while all the women oooed and ahhhed over him; in other words, the part of his dreams.

Unfortunately, he only got to appear in the one scene, although he did show back up at the end to do the curtain call. Of course, as a minor non-speaking role he got to stand up on the "hill" in the back with the other minor non-speaking role: a guy in a bear costume. Seeing PigPen standing on the hill waving at the crowd next to the bear gave Li'l Random the giggles because, and I quote "It's like something from an Adam Sandler movie." Personally, I was flashing more on Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law which would have the bear show up randomly for no reason at all, but the point was well taken.

Outside of enjoying getting to watch PigPen in his element -- you know, hamming it up** -- my other favorite parts of the production were the guy playing Evil-Eye Fleegle, who stole every scene he was in, and watching Brown-Eyed Girl really get into her part as a wife mourning her husband's loss of libido during the big Dogpatch Wives number "Put 'Em Back."

My favorite moment after the production, however, happened when we found PigPen and Brown-Eyed Girl after the show was over to congratulate them. We were standing there talking and some girl came up with a camera and asked PigPen if he could take a picture; PigPen, once again clad in the tattered and torn shirt of his costume, said "Sure, shirt on or shirt off?" The girl, looking mildly embarrassed for him, clarified that she wanted him to take a picture of her and someone else; put a big ol' smile on my face.


*There was a part of me that wanted to yell out "Sure, he's got muscles now, but what happened to his hairline?" when he came out, but I knew that such an act would have been my death warrant. But oh, what a glorious death it would have been . . .
**I would make a crack about how he was such a big ham he should have played Salomey, but I'm about the only one who would get the joke, so I won't.

Fragmented Friday - Back From the (Brain) Dead

Many apologies for the my unannounced hiatus from blogging. To be honest, over the last couple of months I've had trouble writing up much of anything, whether it be a blog post or email or Sunday school lesson or short story or what have you; I'd try, but could not find the focus. In fact, I had planned to write this particular blog post on Monday, but you can see how well that panned out. Still, I need to get my writing juices jump-started somehow, so here's a brief update on three pretty big things that have been going on.

1) Cap'n Shack-Fu has now officially passed his Phase II exam for entrance to the FBI, and has also passed his physical fitness test and polygraph; it's now on to the background check. However, while he did technically pass the physical fitness test in order to move on to the next step in the hiring process, he was one point away from being totally in the clear. Instead, he's now on physical fitness probation and must report back to the FBI each week with a progress report on how his workouts are going, and might even have to head down to the branch office periodically for observation. Now, since he was only one point behind due to not being able to work out while on deployments, it shouldn't be too hard for him to bring the score up . . . as long as he doesn't get deployed again, that is.

2) The Lovable PigPen has now officially moved from a status of "Roomie" to "Fomer Roomie." Li'l Random and I helped PigPen and Cap'n Peanut move into their new place in Lewisville last weekend, a task we were both more than happy to assist with up until Peanut mentioned that we were going to have to move his piano into their second floor apartment; think when it comes time for them to move out Li'l Brother and I are going to take up a collection so they can get movers to take the damnable thing back down the stairs. It's been odd walking by PigPen's empty room all week, and I've had a couple of "Can't wait to tell PigPen when he gets . . . oh, wait . . ." moments here and there. Right now Maverick and I are trying to find a new roomie to help out with the rent and bills since our lease is of the "we're responsible for rent until someone else takes over" variety, something that's becoming even more of a priority due to the next item.

3) Maverick is officially a car owner again. After over a year and a half without a reliably running vehicle, he picked up a used car this past weekend. The upside for me is that now I can go back to my old work schedule and not have to worry about coordinating rides. The downside is that throwing in car payments, insurance, and gas costs on top of increased rent and bills is going to stretch Maverick's budget to the brink. So, if you happen to know of a single, non-smoking male with a reliable source of income looking for a place to live in the Denton area, well, you know who to call.

The Scottish Fireplug

On PigPen's birthday a couple of weeks ago a group of us took him out to Pete's Dueling Piano Bar in Addison, which is an annual tradition for him. Now, as most people who've been to Pete's might be able to guess, it's not exactly my type of place. On the one hand, yes, there's lots of music and sing-along possibilities, which is nice, but on the other hand, it's also crowded with drunk folks who like to smoke. Last year we got a table near the stage, which was cool since, y'know, I could sit down and fight off the smoke-induced headache, plus I was less likely to be crowded and shoved by people fighting to get from Point A to Point B -- although I did get whacked in the head by a beer bottle brandished by a totally plastered and oblivious blond who eventually got escorted away by a bouncer. This year, however, there was to be no table sitting, as we were much later getting there than usual due to us heading there straight from picking PigPen up at the airport. So, it was while Cap'n Cluck and I were trying to cool down by virtue of moving away from the tightly packed crowd and hovering near the front entrance and its accompanying breeze that I first saw The Scottish Fireplug.

Of course, that's not how I first thought of him; no, my original nickname for S.F. would have been closer to "That short, white-haired, wrinkle-faced, incredibly creepy, totally drunk old guy in the bright red t-shirt." It was the red t-shirt combined with his short, stout physique that made me think of him as The Fireplug. Standing about 5 foot or so, he first drew my attention by stumbling back and forth in front of us several times, running into various people and then fixating them with a look that can only be described as the height of creepiness before making his way back to his lone companion, a guy in his late 20s/early 30s who was probably 6'2" or so. After awhile he wound up standing pretty close to us, and somehow either Cluck or I caught his attention and he started to move closer to us, gazing creepily the entire time. After standing there for a minute or two with him swaying on his feet, cigarette coming dangerously close to Cluckity a few times, she and I decided it was time for a change of location. Luckily he didn't decide to stalk us, and while Cluck was done dealing with him for the evening, I got to witness his excellent social skills a few more times before the evening was over.; two of these times took place in the rest room.

The first time he was leaving the rest room just as I was entering and some jovial drunk decided to strike up a conversation with him; Mr. Creepy jabbered something back at him that I wasn't really sure was English at first, but soon discovered was actually a thick Scottish brogue worsened by the heavy amounts of alcohol he had apparently consumed that evening. Ironically, when I was finally able to decipher his ramblings, I realized he was telling the other person that he couldn't understand what they were saying.

The next bathroom encounter was a bit less pleasant. There was a pretty long line to get into the rest room at that point, and I had just moved through the door into the crowded room when I heard a huge commotion coming from the sole bathroom stall, with a belligerent drunk hollering that he was about to kick somebody's ass; three guesses who the target of his ire was. I'm still not sure precisely how it all started, since the open rest room door blocked my view, and by the time I poked my head around to see what all the hubbub was about the Scottish Fireplug was stumbling from the stall, spouting off his gibberish while the other guy was ranting about how S.F. had gotten in his face, threatened to push him, you just don't do that, he needs to learn to watch his mouth, etc. etc. The guy right in front of me in line stepped in to break it up, and since he was a big dude who probably could have taken the angry guy out with one hand tied behind his back, things calmed down. The peacemaker was trying to get angry guy to back off, saying "he's just an old drunk dude, let him be." S.F. kept mumbling things that were incomprehensible to most folks, but the elderly bathroom attendant -- apparently schooled by many hours offering hand soap and paper towels to barely coherent drunks -- stepped in as interpreter and claimed that S.F. was apologizing, a claim I kind of doubt but who can say? Finally S.F. stumbled out of the room and as he went past all of the people who had been standing outside hearing the commotion without being able to see the action I heard several people making sounds the likes of "oh, it's him," signaling that I wasn't the only one who had marked S.F.'s creepy presence. The folks behind me in line started talking about things he had done that night, but the only one that really jumped out at me was the fact that supposedly earlier that evening he had gone up to some guy who was sitting down and licked him on the ear; this, of course, resulted in a drunken chorus of "Dude, that's so gay! Like, so, so gay!" The Peacemaker said "Oh, come on, he's just a squirrel looking for a nut." It was at this point that The Lovable PigPen happened to wander into the restroom and say "Well, he's looking in the wrong forest, that's for sure."

I didn't see much of The Scottish Fireplug until after closing time. Li'l Random and I were standing outside the main entrance to Pete's, which is located on the second floor, waiting on Cap'n Peanut and PigPen to come out, when S.F.'s companion came out and started talking to one of the bouncers in a thick, but understandable, Scottish accent of his own. After a minute or two of looking around for S.F. he finally saw him sitting on one of the benches right inside the entrance, slightly slumped forward but still conscious. The Young Scot went over to gather up his older and drunker pal, but apparently our Scottish Fireplug didn't want to leave and when the Young Scot was insistent, S.F. took a few half-hearted swings at him. The Young Scot immediately dragged S.F. to his feet and began to march him towards the stairs, S.F. struggling the whole time. Li'l Random looked over at me and said "I'm going to follow them out and watch." I tagged along, figuring I could get the valet to retrieve my car and get a show on the way. After fending off a few blow from S.F., The Young Scot had had enough and sought to neutralize S.F.'s striking ability, grabbing both of S.F.'s wrist and yanking them up over his head. And so they proceeded to and down the stairs, S.F. not even muttering or mumbling any more, just feebly struggling in The Young Scot's grip; halfway down the stairs they reached a landing and made room for someone else to pass by, a move that enabled S.F. to free one of his arms and throw a few more hammer fists at an increasingly less patient Young Scot who shook S.F. hard and began to threaten his general well-being if he didn't calm down. They made it down the stairs and out into the night with no more incidents, thus ending what both Li'l Random and I considered the most entertaining part of our evening.

Fragmented Friday - Cap'n Word Herder vs. The Nuclear Man

I have been awake since 3AM for no good reason; cursed insomnia. At around 5Am I decided I might as well go ahead and get up, get some breakfast, and go to work early. When I stopped at the Sonic where I usually get breakfast I was surprised to see the lights were all off, since I was pretty sure Sonic usually opens at 5Am, but since I'm not usually up at 5AM I figured I was mistaken and that they must open at 6Am. Still, since it was only five till 6, I thought I'd just park and wait for the lights to come on so I could order. However, no sooner had I pulled in than a worker came out and signaled me to roll down my window. Turns out my original thought was right and Sonic does usually open at 5AM; however, apparently the person who usually opens didn't show up and so they were way behind schedule, having just started turning everything on, so it was gong to be a bit before they were able to cook anything. I decided to go ahead and wait since I wasn't exactly in a hurry, so I spent the next few minutes just reading on The Bonehunters, the sixth book in Erikson's Malazan Book of the Fallen series. The same Sonic worker came back out before too long and asked what I wanted, telling me they'd go ahead and start cooking my order, and then handing me a couple of coupons for a free drink and free burger. Then, when my food finally came out, the carhop apologized for my wait and told me the food was on them. So, something good came out of my early rise, but I would have gladly paid the 5 bucks for breakfast in exchange for a few more hours sleep.

As I mentioned the other day, I had to go get new glasses because one of my lenses was cracked. On Tuesday I called pretty much every optometrist covered by my insurance before finally finding one who had an appointment on Wednesday; this optometrist operated out of the Wal-Mart building, so after I got my prescription from him I headed into the Wal-Mart vision center to get the glasses made. However, while I was in the process of having them check to see if my insurance would do anything for the frames or lenses I discovered that it would take them 5 to 10 business days to get my glasses in. Since I didn't think either I nor my rickety old glasses themselves could last that long, I instead headed to EyeMasters, whose signs proudly proclaim "GLASSES READY IN ONE HOUR" with the caveat in slightly smaller font "In Most Cases." Hoping that I would me one of those cases I headed inside, handed my prescription to one of the workers and asked if they could get me some new glasses made that day; he took one look at the prescription and said "Maybe." I figured that was probably as good as I was going to get, so I went ahead and let him help me pick out some frames*, as well as talk me into getting prescription sunglasses for practically no cost**. As someone who has pretty much never been able to wear sunglasses, it's taking some getting used to.

Last week was fairly peaceful since The Lovable PigPen was off on a family vacation***; of course, peaceful is boring***, as I no longer had a readily available antagonist****, although Cap'n Shack-Fu did an admirable job filling in for him. In fact, barely an hour and a half after I dropped PigPen off at the airport I was engaged in a wrestling match with the Shack-man, who trounced me, but not without much complaining about the fact that I've improved too much over the months since we last tangled. "Old Todd would have submitted by now!" was his catch-phrase of the day. While knowing that I was a tougher opponent made me feel good, being able to actually beat him would have made me feel even better. Of course, I told him he only won because we were wrestling at his house and he had home-field advantage.

Even if PigPen had been around last week our sparring would have been primarily verbal, as he apparently decided to celebrate the year anniversary of breaking my finger by injuring his own hand. Of course, he chose to injure his left hand and not his dominant right, and probably only chipped the bone on one of his knuckles instead of breaking a finger right on the joint and doing full on tendon damage, but it's the thought that counts. He's currently waiting on a call from his doc with results from the x-rays they took on Wednesday to see how bad the damage is.

I was going to tell the story of The Scottish Fireplug here, but I think that one might deserve its own post; if I don't tell that by the end of next week, someone remind me, okay?*****

I emailed Flunky the other day just to catch up with him since I haven't been able to catch him on IM for a month or so. I of course gave him a hard time about being an uncommunicative son of a gun because, well, that's what I do; he, rising to the bait, replied a few days later thusly:

Flunky Lover is making me write this message because you know I would never respond to you on my own. In fact, I'm making her type this one handed with a baby in the other arm.

In other words, she forces him to do the right thing, and he forces her to be his stenographer and take care of the kids.

The other day while we were driving to pick PigPen up from the airport, Li'l Random was on the phone with B.B.; being the random generator that he is, Li'l Bro made some comment about being the thunder before the lightning, then paused and restated it as lightning before thunder, and then paused again as he tried to make sure which way was correct. I said "lightning before thunder, because light travels faster than sound," but apparently B.B. was saying the opposite. A few days later while we were at the gym, Li'l McEvil brought it up again just to watch us debate******. B.B. stuck firm to his thunder-first stance, I tried to combat it with my logical explanation of lightning-first, which caused B.B. - - who works with the preparedness arm of FEMA that deals with nuclear safety -- to exclaim "Look, I'm a Nuclear Man, I know things! You, you're just a word-herder! Walking around, pushing your carts, shelving your books, herding your words. Don't mess with the Nuclear Man, Word Herder!" Therefore, from now on B.B. has a new nickname:

Wave to Firestorm, everybody. Oh, for the record, oh great Nuclear Man? The Word Herder wins.


*He nixed one pair I tried on saying that another pair didn't make my face look quite so wide; I was tempted to ask him if he was saying I had a fat head, but let it pass.
**Li'l Random, upon seeing my new shades, informed me he's now going to start calling me Morpheus.
***In addition, the Week Without PigPen was really just a warm-up for Life Without PigPen, as it is now only three weeks until he moves out of our place and moves down to Lewisville with Cap'n Peanut.
****His little sister was home on leave from Iraq, so the family decided to spend a week with her down in Cozumel. Feel free to send jealous thoughts his way, I know I did.
*****And by someone I pretty much mean Zinger, of course
******Odds are pretty good that one or both of us was picking on him and he decided to have us turn on each other to spare himself; he's good like that.

Wrestlemaniac Wednesday - Brothers Don't Hit, Brothers Hug!

I managed to complete a Judo throw during randori (sparring) for the first time last night, which was a pretty big thing for me; even better, it wasn't just a regular throw. I went in for o-soto-gari (the most basic throw), and my sparring partner blocked it and sort of trapped my leg; instead of panicking and trying to free myself, or beating myself up for not being able to catch him with my first throw, I actually remembered a move they showed us last week, pivoted on my free foot, and threw him. I wasn't able to catch him with any more standing throws the rest of the night, although I did manage to do something similar to wrestler's fireman's carry and toss him on his back later on. All in all, a pretty good night, which has inspired me to make this officially Wrestlemaniac Wednesday.

Sometime within the last couple of months, The Lovable PigPen decided to revive the time-honored tradition of testosterone-fueled males everywhere known as "two for flinching," a tradition which gives him endless delight because he gets to practice it on yours truly, one of the jumpiest fools on the face of the planet. Well, the other night while he and I were wrestling around he got me to flinch, doled out the request couple of punches, then got a strange look on his face and said "I saw you flinch too!" and punched me twice in the chest. I just stared at him as he started babbling about not talking back and how he was going to beat Tony Stark's ass; it was at that moment that I realized he was directing his comments towards the Iron Man t-shirt I was wearing . . . a t-shirt, might I add, that PigPen got me as a birthday present. Next thing I know, PigPen has tackled me and is raining blows down on the pictures on my shirt, calling out threats to Tony Stark the whole time. "I hate you Tony Stark! Hate you! Don't make kick your iron butt!" Things like that. I, meanwhile, am more ineffectual than usual at protecting myself because I'm laughing too danged hard at his antics. Sure, he may be a soulless ginger bastage hell-bent on destroying me, but he's a funny soulless ginger bastage hell-bent on destroying me, ya gotta give him that.

In addition to the good news about the FBI, Cap'n Shack-Fu also told me that he should be back in our area pretty soon which is cool, since I haven't had a chance to hang out with him for about a month and a half. Not telling how long he'll be around before they try to ship him off again. I'm sure I'll goad him into at least one sparring session before he heads off again, although with the amount of pent-up aggression he's probably developed over the last month and a half on deployment, I might be sorry. Then again, what else is new?

Now, while I've been able to goad The Lovable PigPen, Cap'n Peanut, and Cap'n Shack-Fu into full on wrestling matches, I have not yet managed to draw out the more violent tendencies of Li'l Random McEvil. Now, I know they're there; I've seen him dole out plenty of punishment to his friend B.B. But Li'l Brother informs me that he likes to keep his violent tendencies confined to just one particular individual, and sadly B.B. has apparently beaten me to the punch, so to speak. This of course does not deter me from trying to awaken the sleeping giant that is Li'l Random's violent side, but so far he has been able to resist responding in kind. Part of the fun of picking on Li'l Bro, though, is seeing which if a zillion random reactions will result; sometimes he'll just curl up into a semi-fetal position, other times he'll clutch onto something and holler "base, I'm on base!*" Occasionally he'll take the "gee, I think I just felt a gnat land on my arm, but I'm not sure, because it was as if I hardly felt a thing" approach, which is always delightful. Probably my favorite of the old stand-bys is his motto "Brothers don't hit, brothers hug!"; I maintain they do both. Monday night he pulled the "see, I would retaliate, but I would hate to embarrass you in public like that. That's how good a friend I am" gambit, which was new. Not so new is the fact that if PigPen is around when I'm picking on Li'l Random he transforms into The Ginger Avenger, coming to the "rescue" of "poor defenseless" Li'l Random**, a fact that somehow Li'l Random didn't clue into until I mentioned it recently; he then decided to test it out Sunday night, tattling on me to PigPen, who then came after me while I tried to use Li'l Tattletale as a shield.

*One time he declared a water bottle as base when Shack and I were ganging up on him; we weren't really sold on the validity of a mobile base, especially when he tried to convince us the next day that the bottle he had was the same one, even though it was a different brand and design. We did not fall for his tricksy ways.
**Apparently PigPen doesn't want any competition for the title of "Group Bully" . . .

Orange Power vs. The Moody Blue Pt. 2 - Savor the Irony

Y'know, it's been a while since I've had a really, truly, neurosis-fueled rambling blog post . . . I think we're well overdue, don't you, my blog monkeys?

Not counting my parents, I currently have 4 individuals who get to regularly bear the brunt of my most neurotic ramblings, which I generally convey in the form of horrendously long emails which enable me to make sure I touch on every point I want to cover; however, 25% of these individuals (i.e. PigPen) prefer to have these conversations face-to-face in order to respond in real-time. Last week, I had some stuff that had been bothering me which I was wanting to cover with PigPen, and I had been having trouble finding a time when we could both sit down and hash stuff out, so I emailed him one morning asking if he could set some time aside that evening so we could talk, and he said sure. However, that conversation didn't take place because not too long after PigPen got home from work, he got a call from Li'l Random and went out to do something with him instead, only acknowledging the fact that he was skipping out on our planned conversation as he was halfway out the door, an acknowledgment that I assumed at the time only came because he saw the perturbed look on my face and suddenly thought "Oh, crap." I was not too happy with him, not so much because he went out instead of staying in and talking -- I mean, I know I would rather go hang out with Li'l Random rather than listen to me spew neurotic crap for the zillionth time -- but because it felt to me like I was just an afterthought. However, once I began to think about the fact that one of the things I had wanted to talk to him about was the fact that I had started to feel like he was always blowing me off, and now I couldn't talk to him about him always blowing me off because he had, in fact, blown me off, well, you just have to savor the irony, y'know?

Anyway, PigPen and I got to sit down and have our talk the next evening and straightened everything out*; I've decided that pretty much every serious conversation I have with PigPen boils down into the following Paranoia Resolution Formula:

Me: Hey, bud, it bothered me when you [insert action here].
Him: Well, when I [insert action here], it's because [insert basic reasoning here]
Me: Well, to me it felt more like you did it because of [insert paranoid interpretation of action here]
Him: No, it's because of [insert basic reasoning here]; you see, [insert expanded line of thought and additional situational information here]
Me: Okay, that makes sense, but do you see why I thought [insert paranoid interpretation of action here], since I didn't know about [insert expanded line of thought and additional situational information here]?
Him: Yeah, sorry, didn't mean it to come across like [insert paranoid interpretation of action here] at all, it really was because of [insert basic reasoning here].
Me: Cool, glad we got that straightened out. Moving on, it bothered me when you [insert next misinterpreted action here] . . .

And so on and so forth. Sure, there are variations along the way, but most of the time what it boils down to is this: PigPen and I view the world much, much differently. Often, this is a good thing; I really do think that having a close friend who challenges your point of view and makes you think outside your comfort zone is a positive, and out of all of my friends, I definitely find PigPen the most challenging. The biggest problem in those situations is actually remembering that your friend has vastly different thought processes than you do, so you don't ascribe your own motivations to their actions -- a trap I still fall into at times despite my best efforts.

I'll let one example kind of stand for the rest: PigPen and I really don't hang out much at all outside of what manifests as a natural result of us living in the same house: watching TV, playing video games, beating the crap out of each other, etc. And when we do occasionally hang out with other people outside the house, such as when we had weekly lunches at Frilly's with Cap'n Shack-Fu and Li'l Random before PigPen's work schedule made it impossible, I usually feel like a third wheel since PigPen would often ignore me and focus totally on the others, thus triggering Outsider Complex and Disposable Friend Syndrome issues galore. But after we talked about it, it became clear that it was just a case of his extroverted, HyperTwin Orange personality clashing with my overly emotional Blue personality.

You see, PigPen by his very nature craves a variety of interactions an experiences; in his mind, our time hanging out at home more than fulfills his quota of Todd-based interactions, so when he wants to go out and do something, he doesn't automatically include me because he wants to vary his experiences and we're in a group he's focusing on the people he doesn't see all the time. Of course, for me, and my Blue-driven need to develop deep and lasting bonds, when I want to go out and do something, I want to do it with that small group of people I feel closest to because I want to strengthen those bonds with shared experiences -- I'll admit that sometimes this makes me a bit insular, but when it comes to my Best Friends, I could hang out with them practically 24-7 and not get tired of it.

So, taking those Frilly's lunches as an example: for PigPen, that was probably the only time that week he was going to get to hang out with Shack-Fu and Randomino, and so he was more focused on directing his attention and humor and conversation towards them, and not the guy he saw and talked to almost every day. Totally understandable; unfortunately, what would wind up happening is that, by dint of the force of his extroverted Orange personality, all conversation at the table would revolve around PigPen interacting with those two to the exclusion of yours truly, who would sit back wallowing in my very Blue sense of estrangement because I had convinced myself it was a sign of PigPen's growing disdain for me.

Now, while misinterpreting the actions of my friends in such as way that I construe their innocent words and deeds as more negative and harmful than they were intended, I would like to point out that I am not alone in this; I can think of at least a couple of times when PigPen took something I said or did and filtered it through his own prism of personality, ascribing much less friendly motivations to my actions than what I had meant. Of course, I'm much more prone to it than he is -- much, much, much more -- but it gives me some small comfort to know that I'm not the only one who stumbles.

The cool thing about my friendship with PigPen is, even though our brains work in totally different ways -- and even though PigPen's favorite game in the world is "PigPen Wins!" which is the worst freaking game on the planet for anyone other than PigPen and which he plays pretty much every minute of every day -- we're both willing to concede that neither way is the only way, and that there is a need for give and take. Yeah, sometimes we might go round and round for a bit trying to get the other one to understand where we're coming from, but that's become less frequent over time; I think of it like a jigsaw puzzle, where in the beginning you have all of these pieces scattered all over the place and you're trying to figure out how in the world they can come together to make a coherent whole, but once you've develop a base to work from, you no longer have to struggle to get your bearings, but instead just have to figure out how this latest piece you've discovered fits into the whole. I have a much better understanding of how PigPen thinks now than I did when I first moved in a couple of years ago, and vice versa, but as all of this shows, neither of our pictures are quite complete yet -- nor will they ever be, to be honest, but every little bit helps.

When I start to get caught up in the trap of paranoia and Outsider Complex and the like, the one thing I have to focus on is this: PigPen is my friend. And while he may not consider me one of his Best Friends like I think of him, he still does consider me a good friend -- the biggest evidence of this is the fact that if he didn't, he wouldn't have put up with even a tenth of the crap he's had to wade through while thanks to my neurotic tendencies. And when he says or does something that triggers my paranoia, I can't give in to my self-doubt and assume the worst -- that I've managed to damage the friendship, wear out my welcome, overwhelm him with so much neurotic crap that he's ready to run for the hills -- but instead approach him and run through our familiar Paranoia Resolution Formula until we're both one step closer to maybe never having to run through it again.

Yeah, I know, fat chance of that, but a paranoid and neurotic freak of nature can dream, can't he?



*Yes, he explained his reasoning behind the earlier night's blow-off to my satisfaction; hopefully I was able to explain the reasoning behind my perturbed state to his

Mix-It-Up Monday - Invasion of the Parental Units

Since I didn't put up a Fragmented Friday post last week, even though I promise Miss ArkanSass one was forthcoming, I figured I'd do my rambling summation of last week today, rather than wait until this Friday.

Zinger just got back from a week in Alaska and spent a good portion of his morning getting caught up on all of his daily online reads. Zinger remarked how much he hated trying to play catch up on everything, although he was quick to point out that reading through CoIM was incredibly easy . . .

My mom and dad were in town for several days since they hadn't seen me since Christmas, and my vacation leave balance was practically nil making any potential trip on my part rushed at best. Plus, they never had gotten a chance to meet many of the Singles outside of Maverick, Biz-Z, and Cap'n Shack-Fu, and were really wanting to see just how accurate my descriptions of everyone were. Last time they were down we tried to do quite a bit of stuff, but this time we mainly just sat around, visited, watched TV, and went out to eat. Not very exciting, perhaps, but it was relaxing.

Saturday evening while mom and dad were relaxing back at the hotel, I went out to the park with PigPen, Cap'n Peanut, and Maverick to throw around the football and Frisbee. It was one of those times when something kind of clicked in my head in terms of the mind/body connection, because I wound up doing a better job catching the football than pretty much any other time I can remember -- up until I kind of jammed my fingers, that is. Three guesses which finger got the brunt of it. That's right, the crooked right middle finger caught the ball head on; I tried to shake off the pain and keep playing, but after a few more catches the paranoia of "Oh, crap, did I screw it up again?" was a bit overwhelming and I had to bow out of any more passing/catching. Didn't feel too bad on Sunday, but is a little stiff and sore today; hopefully that will go away soon.

About the most touristy thing my folks did while they were down is stroll around The Square. We went to Recycled Books, had lunch at Denton County Independent Hamburger Company, had dessert at Beth Marie's Old Fashioned Ice Cream and Soda, wandered into one of the antique stores -- surprisingly my dad's suggestion and not mom's -- and then had to come back a couple of days later so dad could take pictures of the courthouse.

A few weeks back Cap'n Peanut and I were wrestling around and I had to take a very literal breather because I had been around too much cigarette smoke that night and was having trouble getting enough oxygen; early last week I sent him a couple of emails clamoring for a rematch, to which he never responded; in fact, we were around each other quite a bit on Saturday and it never came up. Until, that is, we got back from the park; while PigPen went in to take a shower, Peanut calmly walked into the living room, shoved the coffee table up against the couch*, and called me out. He kicked my butt pretty handily of course, thanks to his crazy gorilla strength, but I almost caught him in a choke . . . man, am I sick of almosts. Next time, Peanut, you're going down!**

I was not the only person with parental visitors this weekend; Li'l Random's parents also decided to come to town for a few days, although none of us ever got to see them. I gather that this is because as soon as his folks arrive, Li'l McEvil chains them to his yard, forcing them to weed and plant and chop down trees and such, until he's worked them near to death and allows them to escape back to Arkansas before their next round of enforced labor. . . although, since I never have seen hide nor hair of his parents even after many, many visits, I have started to suspect that they're just figments of his imagination, and that Li'l Random was not born like a normal man but just sprang randomly from some dark and twisty hole in the ground.

I was hanging out at Li'l Random's place on Thursday afternoon as we were both waiting for our respective parental units to arrive in town when a contractor he had called to inspect the hail damage on his roof rang the doorbell. When The Random One answered the door, the contractor asked "Is Li'l Random home?" I immediately suspected that the contractor's question was due to his assuming that Li'l Random was actually the teenaged son of the house's owner; when Li'l Random told him that he was Li'l Random there was a pause before the contractor blurted out "No way you're old enough to own a house." I cried out "I knew it!" at which point the contractor poked his head around the corner to see me, recognized that I was most assuredly not teenaged, and asked if I was really Li'l Random, assuming that we were trying to prank him. Somehow the joy of mocking Li'l Babyface lost a little bit of its luster with the realization that I was visibly recognizable as being "the old guy"; didn't stop me from doing it, though.

That last bit reminds me; my former college roomie The Old Man recently started up a Facebook page; after I added him as a friend I told him that I was now in the same position he was in in college, surrounded by a social circle who are a few years younger and who insist on rubbing it in my face -- I told him I thought that was probably what they called "karma."

I had been planning on introducing Cap'n Peanut to my folks as "one of those bad influences you always warned me about," but dad went up and introduced himself before I got a chance. However, when Li'l Random met them, I was able to reference the fact that a while back mom had asked if my adopting him as my Li'l Brother meant that he was replacing our old cat that we always referred to as my little brother when I was younger by introducing him thusly: "Mom, Dad, this is Itty Bitty."

Last night my parents capped off their visit by taking my best buds PigPen and Li'l Random out to dinner with us; wish Cap'n Shack-Fu could have been there to make the set complete, but at least they got to meet him when he was deployed to Miamuh. As it was, I had a good time seeing two of my Best Friends interacting with the parental units. I really enjoyed seeing just how often my mom was able to fluster Li'l Random; the best was probably when the waitress was about to take his order, and mom interrupted to ask if he'd found anything on the kiddie menu. Don't think she ever really managed to get PigPen, sadly, but he is pretty hard to fluster, and she was on good behavior and didn't bring her full complement to bear.

*Shoving the coffee table up against the couch is pretty much the universal sign at our place that someone's about to get their ass kicked; 99% of the time it's me.
**Note to self: update the will.

Nature's Wonders Unfurled in All Their Splendor

This last weekend was The Singles' annual day-trip to OKC to eat at Ted's Cafe Escondido and then take in some local sights; if you'll recall, last year's trip was when I wound up injuring myself in an embarrassing way. One thing I neglected to mention about last year's trip -- distracted as I was by my bruised tailbone -- was that our ride home was made more interesting by the fact that one of the back inside tires on the church bus blew out 30-40 minutes north of Denton and we had to limp on home. So when I, who was riding up with Li'l Random* instead of riding the bus, got a call from Cap'n Cluck saying that they had had a blowout about 20-30 minutes from Ted's my first instinct was that the folks on the bus were trying to pull a fast one on those of us in the Night Roller. But no, Cluckity was telling the truth; once again the Ted's trip was punctuated by an inside rear tire blowout . . . the same tire, even. Since they weren't too far from the restaurant, Trouble dropped everybody off to get a table and then headed over to a tire place where she asked that they examine all of the tires. The tech recommended replacing all four back tires immediately, saying that the front tires would get us home, but should be replaced ASAP as well. Needless to say, on the eventual ride home every strange road noise and stretch of unusually bumpy highway triggered my bus wreck paranoia.

Li'l Random and I picked Trouble up from the tire place and headed back over to Ted's. Our lunch was fairly uneventful, outside of our waitress tormenting Li'l Random for his refusal to even attempt to say "pollo" correctly, and the fact that when someone at another table got crowned with a sombrero and serenaded by the staff for his birthday, it sparked the realization at our table that "hey, Todd's birthday is just a little over a week away, isn't it . . ."

By the time we got done eating the bus was ready, so Li'l Random ferried Trouble over to pick it up, and we all headed off to our selected tourist attraction this year: the OKC zoo.

I don't think I'd been to the OKC zoo since my Freshman year of college when Flunky, Poohbear, Coronela and I were witness to what we dubbed "Mating Day at the Zoo," wherein the first several animals we saw that day were busy perpetuating the circle of life. Some highlights of this trip include:

• There were signs up periodically with instructions for viewing the animals; Li'l Random insisted we stop to read one. It referenced the fact that thanks to natural camouflage, sometimes the animals wouldn't be visible, but that even if you couldn't see them they were "watching you." After that, every time we got to an enclosure with no visible inhabitant, I would have to proclaim in my most charmingly creepy voice "They're watching you!" On a related note, I had Hall & Oates "Private Eyes" stuck in my head most of the day.
  
  
• When we first entered the in-door portion of the pachyderm exhibit, there was a sign for Asian elephants but no animals in sight, causing Li'l Random to declare "Wow, Asian elephants are invisible." We then moved on to the next pen, which was also marked Asian elephant, but whose inhabitant looked suspiciously like a rhinoceros, causing me to declare "Wow, Asian elephants are also shape-shifters!"
  
  
• We came to a cage which was supposed to house a "tawny frogmouth," which I maintain is an awesome name for a band. The frogmouth was pretty well camouflaged and totally motionless, leading Li'l Random onto a rant about how the bird was obviously stuffed, and how he couldn't believe that they'd have a stuffed bird at the zoo, what kind of trickery was that, etc. etc. The rant lasted until the frogmouth had gotten enough of his lip and decided to move, opening up its beak in a manner that reminded me of those old flip-top head commercials
  
  
• When we got to the Big Cats section we saw a tiger roaming around some trees, sniffing at them. Someone asked "is he going to chew on it or claw at it?" I posited the theory that it was probably going to mark its territory. . .
  
  
• It was a relatively hot and humid day, so lots of the animals were lounging around being worthless. This snow leopard, for example
  
  was holed up in a little shady nook, batting its front paws at the air as it dreamed of clawing at all of the noisy folks with cameras disturbing its sleep. Meanwhile, this jaguar
  
  was up just long enough for this picture to get snapped before it settled down for a nap behind that little rock formation, leaving only its ears visible.
  
  
• After the cats we headed to The Great EscApe where we got to watch a couple of young gorillas showing off their best MMA moves on each other
  
  a demonstration presumably put one for the amusement of their patriarch who was lounging nearby taking it all in
  
  Next up was the orangutans, who seemed very interested in the crowd gathered next to the glass to view him, as he moved slowly closer and closer, staring them all down . . . and then urinating right onto the glass.
  
  
• As we were preparing to leave, the very last thing to catch my eye was a couple of African deer getting very "friendly" with each other. I was tempted to call Poohbear and let her know that I had once again experienced Mating Day at the Zoo, but then I remembered it was her and Zinger's wedding anniversary . . . then I was really tempted to call.

So, after seeing all of nature's wonder unfurled in their utmost splendor (I mean, spraying, peeing, and humping, who could ask for anything more?) we headed on back to Denton, with nary a blowout all the way home.

*Li'l Random headed straight from OKC to Atkins for a family reunion, as well as the annual Pickle Fest; yes, he was returning to his Li'l Dill roots.