Noah shoveled the walk.
Noah went sledding.
Jesse went sledding too!
Noah went to the zoo and saw monkeys, penguins, lions, and tigers!
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Seriously, it is the worst sport ever. FUCK YOU BASEBALL. Actually, I’m glad that the team is doing so well now that I’m not playing any more. In fact, I may have been hurting the team. Just great. Nothing but triples!
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Summit Oatmeal Stout. Fuck yeah.
Grumpy’s. Fuck yeah.
Billa billa, well, not so much. I mean, yeah, but only one gave me that shy smile that meant that if they wouldn’t have hooked up with friends and left that I should have talked to her or something. The dude with the pimpin’ Summit jacket (have you seen mine?).
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Cake Woman needed some sort of sedative to prevent her from killing everyone in a shopping frenzy, so I woke up on her couch at like 8am to her shrieking “it’s time to go fucking shopping!”
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Don’t say I told you so, because you know what, I told you! I can totally see the future!
Do I go to Woodbury to have Thanksgiving with Lisa and Stan and Stan’s family, or do I succumb to the foul hark of Mordor? Lo! I cross the river into Wysconsinne and there I shall smite the dark lord who cannot be named!
I think that I will sleep late and watch “the Seven Samurai.”
Bring me home some turkey!
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My mom is flying to Zihuatanejo, Mexico for her first vacation with her fourth husband of ten years (or so) today. I told her that if she wanted to bring me back some tequila, she should look for 100% de agave. She said that she didn’t want to encourage my habits, and then said something about bad husbands who had drinking problems. For those of you who are keeping score, she’s talking about my dad, who has been clean and sober (but not quite all together) since 1984. So. Yeah. Compared to my dad. Next everyone will be commenting on my nightly naps. Hello, I’m my dad’s dad, too!
So I’m tired after I bike home. I beat the number four bus from Broadway to 31st! I’m guessing that the bus stopped at Broadway for a few minutes or something, but it makes me wonder why the driver tried to run me off the road instead of letting me keep my lane since the bus was stopping for the light, anyway. When the light changed I left it well behind. The night before I passed a cyclist while riding under the bridge at Como Avenue and didn’t see him again until I stopped at Broadway. Then his shadow was behind me. Did he catch up before I stopped? My legs were saturated with lactic acid. The adreniline from some jerk in a car honking at me was wearing off. Should I have paused to say “hey?”
Once I hit 19th all bets are off. The block before Marino’s has me standing up and sprinting, then sitting for the block past the Vietnamese place, then back on my feet to push hard to Lowry. My head gets light as I crest the hill and suddenly my breath is ragged and animalistic. I gasp and can barely turn over the pedals. My hand unconsciously pushes the shift lever to bump me into a taller gear and my legs fall into slow circles. When I gain sight of the firehouse I push harder again, and everything kind of blurs and burns until I coast into the driveway. I peel off my helmet, hat, gloves, and hoodie. Everything is dizzy and my throat burns.
After my nap tonight I helped Lisa and Stan replace their brand new broken headboard and assemble their giant bed. Then I watched Nova and Frontline while waiting for my freelance client to get back to me so I can launch the site. Eventually, I got a beer. It tasted clear and wonderful. I drank very heavily on a few occasions this summer with the rationalization that it was the last summer before I turned thirty and I had somehow scheduled a light load for myself. I had no responsibilities, just a class and a part-time job. Do I need to worry about it now? Do I need to worry about it more? Am I just responding to peer pressure and college stress? Can I come home at the end of the day and say “I need a beer” without thinking about that sentence for hours?
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Radio K played some Poop Poop for Poopie, so Zach stopped it. I played some mp3s, then Zach played some mp3s, then we were fighting over music. Somehow while fighting I knocked over a glass of beer onto Zach’s keyboard, which miraculously switched his iTunes to Radio K. We heard Thomas and it was like waking up from a terrible dream. We both sat down and went back to being productive.
Melody asked me what I actually do at work. Well, uh, I put a link at the bottom of the calendar page to the full month view. We had free ice cream. I had the chocolate. Then I didn’t feel very well because that’s a lot of dairy. At some point we listened to several variations of the Super Mario Brothers theme song. Oh yeah, I fixed a bug in our authentication app and made our cost reports listing make more sense, and now I’m thinking about how to best present those items by client. How can I have Zach name the files (easily) so that the page can programmatically determine what they are? Should I make it smart enough to figure out based on how he names them now, or should I force a particular naming convention, perhaps based on the cups number or whatever that id is (which isn’t distinct, so then you also need to include a name or abbreviated name).
Anyway, so far there hasn’t been the sort of magical musical moment like yesterday when Sarah Sandusky played something off of P J Harvey’s Dry album, but I know that the King won’t let me down. Also, they can’t play Poop Poop for Poopie again today. Hooray!
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It’s the newest thing:
Genius. I’m so glad that Zach is part of Team Kickass now — the three of us together are more powerful than you could possibly imagine.
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Cake Woman is getting a congratulatory card for getting an excellent review at her job. This is on the back:
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I woke up this morning with a surety of knowledge that I had to do three things:
- Buy some RAM for the server
- Volunteer for the Zenon show
- Launch that freelance site
So, the first thing that I did after waking up was ask Stan if he wanted to go to General Nanosystems. Then, while checking my email and writing a quick blog post, I got a phone call from Cake Woman.
“Bring me Pizza Luce!” she ordered.
“The whole store?” I queried.
“PIZZZZZAAAAAAAAAAA” she wailed in a banshee shriek that shook the ground from here to Anoka.
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