They’ve fucked up my home phone somehow and in a completely unrelated occurrence, happened to fuck up my home internet in the process. I am too tired and stressed agitated to deal with this after being up since 4 am, but I am ready to raise hell if their constant fuck ups have fried my router. But until then, no LoL or internet at home. Fuck Comcast.
Since I was yet again unable to make it out of my personal purgatory, Washington Reagan National Airport, I’m stuck at my parents’ house for an extra night. I sat around for a few hours once again baffled at the endless array of employees putting their families through standby hell, unable to move up the list myself, before debating on whether or not to punt on the rest of the day and try to salvage some non-airport sanity and spend some time with the parents alternatively. When I saw a girl throw up directly into a trash can, I knew it was time to bail. I’m guessing she might have been preggers, but it also happened to be in front of McDonald’s.
Since if all went according to plan, I wouldn’t be here, I’m guessing this is the night one of the brown recluse spiders in the basement, kills me.
Some of my friends and I went to the Vortex to support our friend Chrissie at an open mic night. She was fantastic, by the way, and I’d love to see when she performs again in August.
Anyway, in the middle of the show, we were notified of when the night hit the halfway point, and the emcee came out and admonished everyone who were incapable of putting away their cell phones and incessantly checking their twitter and Facebook accounts. But then out of the blue, she introduces a special halftime guest who just happened to be in the area on this night: Chris Tucker.
Since I’m going to be up in NOVA this weekend, so that I can watch baseball, meet Hacksaw Jim Duggan, be reminded of how old as fuck I am at Otakon, meet the Green Ranger, and watch more baseball, I thought about hitting up Malibu Grill, for old times’ sake. The good one, the one in Falls Church, the one that really started it all. Not the one in Fair Lakes, the one that used to be the Bertucci’s where I used to work when I was 16, the one that ultimately ended up turning into half a Chinese restaurant.
I don’t think I’m going to come to parents’ house, like ever again. I don’t even think I’m going to be sleeping in my old bedroom tonight, for that matter. Jesus Christ ain’t got nothing on this demon from hell.
Whether or not it was a brown recluse or not is irrelevant. I actually think it was one. Regardless, I still beat it to death from a safe distance, with a baseball bat. A metal one. Silverfish, deer crickets, spider-crickets, I can deal with those things. But brown recluses? With their poison that dissolves canyons into human flesh??? No way, no fucking way. I love my old bedroom and my old bed, but I’m having some serious second thoughts about sleeping in that potential death trap now.
I really enjoy nature television shows. When I saw promos for National Geographic’s Untamed Americas series, I immediately set a DVR timer for it.
Overall, I think the four-episode series was a little on the weak side, but I get the impression that their field crew got a handful of amazing video and shots, that series like this are created, so they could have a place to showcase them. For every amazing footage of a spirit bear or an owl, there are usually clips of wolves or cougars and other predators failing at capturing their prey.
But if there was one thing that genuinely stuck with me watching the series, it would have to be this fox somewhere in the arctic.
Obviously I’m not some authority on women’s fashion, but I know what I like to see as a guy. That being said, what I don’t like seeing these days is the unfortunate trend that high-wasted shorts are supposedly in fashion for women these days. I don’t get it at all; it’s ugly as fuck. Only a small percentage of girls seem to be able to actually pull it off and not look silly, but there’s a fairly slim percentage that also coincidentally have the right shape and figure in order to make that happen.
It’s like a cross between mom’s closet and/or trying to look like the kind of hippies that aren’t desirable. In terms of functionality, I’d guess high-waist stuff is vastly superior at covering up stomachs some chicks don’t want to show, or prevent the peeking of panties and all, but frankly, I find the overall look to abhorring. It accentuates girls with short legs by making their torsos look longer, and much like the weird poofy-squash skirts that used to be trendy, it creates this odd shape of Urkel-high waist with a short segue into the boobs. And then there’s the irony of when girls try to wear high-waist shorts sexy, by wearing them tight, or they’re Daisy Duke-short; sure it might hug the ass and ride up in a sexy way, but because they go up so high, it makes the booty look giant and/or elongated. Hence, unsexy.