It's that time of year. Again. It's perpetual. Like science, gravity, age, the Metric system, the Dewey Decimal system for that matter, and space. It's (begrudgingly) the Holidays.
I used to love them. I swear. But now I find myself single and bitter. No, no, seriously, its not going to be one of those posts. No seriously, it wont. I'm finished. But can we just talk about the fact that the amount of engagement ring commercials has hit critical mass? It's, like, ridiculous, no? I guess I never noticed before. But it's a fucking trip. So i wonder, does it actually work? Like do people think candy canes and wedding rings? Seriously?
Well keeping in the spirit of excess and frivolity, feast on these. and keep that finger, second in from the pinkie, clean and clutter free. cheers.
That's MRS Sassafrass Jones to YOU.
If you were considering a new tattoo, this is a good start.
This answers a lot of questions for me.
Oh god yes.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
It has been a good time since I wrote anything on this crazy blog of mine. I am going to go so far as to say that no one has really missed the weekly rambling only the likes of me will deem worthy of jotting down. BUT, at the risk of being redundant, I am going to pick this thing back up.
I find this an appropriate time to jump back aboard my blog. For the sake that I am writing this on the floor of Sea-Tac en route to Denver, or rather a ranch OUTSIDE of Denver, for the Fall '12 EMU sales conference. This marks the beginning of the end as far as my social life is concerned, but this is what they pay me for. So, until the sheep stop growing skin, (or I am offered another j.o.b.), this is my lot.
I will be keeping ya'll tuned into what the life of a road rep entails. I think that a blog of this sort would have been hella helpful when I was considering this profession as a wide eyed, free sticker grabbing, shop kid of 17.
Repping: It's fun, it's exhausting, it pays well, it sucks your bank account dry, it pulls you out of your life and spits you out in a place on the interstate you never would have stopped had you not had to pee so badly you could taste it. It will get you friends, it will get you laid, it will make your homies stop calling, and it will destroy any decor you may have possibly had in your house. Your garage will hold boxes of shit, your room will be strewn with dirty laundry and duffle bags. You will stop unpacking your shampoo and conditioner and instead putting it all back into the kit at the end of the day. You will be ready to leave at a moment's notice, and unable to make plans with anyone that isn't directly connected to work. You will pay off your car to immediately see it's value vanish as it's odometer clicks past 200k. Your ass will make a constant imprint in your seat, and your cup holders will hold more shit than you ever though possible. You will piss in every gas stop between Portland, OR, and Billings, MT, and sometimes you will smell like a corn dog and Jo-Jo's. You don't mean to...it's the road. You will see trucker fights, double rainbows (if you're fucking magical), buffalo, headless road kill, beautiful ski bums in Bozeman, some of the sketchiest driving conditions ever, and some of the sweetest faces of all time. You will miss your life. You will wonder what it's all for. You will feel tired, get sick, and cry (maybe). You will change tires in an ice storm, and check oil in a torrential downpour. You will be a fucking dumbass and buy a puppy. Who you will love, but realize you seriously over committed. You will wish you could have some one at home. and then push them all away as soon as you touch down. You'll be part of frequent travel plans you didn't think existed, and will have AAA. You'll be scared shitless, and stoked as fuck.
You'll be a rep; until you aren't.
So. Until I'm not....
I will keep you posted on the happenings in my life out there.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Saturday, December 26, 2009
I got a violin for Christmas. Which I am actually super excited about. Except, that I don't know how to play it. I asked for a gaggle of ponies, but I'm not complaining. No really. I'm not. Seriously.
I AM waiting until monday morning when this god damn store in sun city, az opens up so that I can buy this double lens reflex camera called a Ricoh diacord. It's amazing. It looks like this...
I have been pining over it for a loooooong time. its gonna be amazing. i'll take your picture. smile. no really, you look great when you smile.
hearts and pony hooves from these guys...
ok. actually I wanted to name this blog post mushroom head, but i hate to think of the images that could illicit. so yeah. picklehead it is.
So, Dara Thai stopped serving straw mushrooms which makes the Evil Jungle Princess prrretty much what it is. I beg to know, why Dara, why? Is it because of some Evil mushroom recall? I personally, I think that making people mega sick would just mean that that evil jungle bitch is doing her JOB. Why rob her of that? Tell me. Is it because of pictures like this-
I know it's scary. I dont know what it's about, but i think it's behind this bullshit.
I dunno. Ever since you changed your sign to bright pink, and made the Post hit the road, only so you could accomodate 3 more tables and a shitty Guinness sign (?!?), I feel like I don't even know you anymore.
Well, I have your old sign. I stole it from the outside of your restaurant like 4 months ago. Bring back the straw mushrooms and we might be able to negotiate something. Till then the Evil Jungle Princess (who is now going by the name of Hellen) and I will be waiting for your call. and playing drum machines and synthesizers.
your long loving patron,