The Way Things Are






I came out “Guiness”.
2006-03-14, 2:52 p.m.

You Are Guinness

You know beer well, and you'll only drink the best beers in the world.

Watered down beers disgust you, as do the people who drink them.

When you drink, you tend to become a bit of a know it all - especially about subjects you don't know well.

But your friends tolerate your drunken ways, because you introduce them to the best beers around.

My friends, this is a load of horseshit. I answered the questions correctly, I did not lie to the quiz, and I still came out “Guiness”.

1. I will NOT only drink the best beers in the world. I like them, but shit man, I live 10 miles away from the store. When all we have is Milwaukee’s Best Light, that’s what I drink, and I LIKE it. I’m HAPPY to have it.

2. Watered down beers do not disgust me. I’ll drink a Coors Light, a Miller Light, even a Bud Light. And the only beer drinkers who disgust me are snotty beer drinkers who might be disgusted by other beer drinkers’ habits (at first, I wrote “babits”. Yeah! And their babits, too!).

3. I will cop to becoming a bit of a know-it-all, but I’m really kind of like that all the time, beer or not.

4. I have never introduced one soul to the best beer around. Maaaaybe Shiner Bock, but that’s it.


There is some kind of funk that has settled upon the land, and I believe it may be all my fault. This isn’t the odor kind of funk, or the musical variety. This is the mood funk, and I want to apologize right now: if you have sensed a bit of a mood funk going on lately, I think it originated with me.


I just called someone, and her secretary said, “Yes, mo’am, just a mament. ::snicker:: Yes, MA’am, just a MOment.”

And that’s about the most interesting thing that has happened all day.


Anyway, I want to go out on my office balcony and declare “BLEHHHH” to the world. I want to shout “BLEHHHH” from the rooftops, and holler it down all the chimneys and storm sewer pipes. BLEHHHH. I blame it on the following:

1. Work: has settled down from one new disaster per day, to disaster clean-up, day after day. I may thrive on the disaster-wrought adrenalin rush, but the tedium of sweeping up the debris sucks the life right out of me.

2. My period: is due to start at the end of this week. Would it just hurry up and get here already?

3. Lil Guy: is hanging out with his dad this week until Thursday evening, and it’s just boring without him around.* I miss him. ::sniff::

4. Hair: I need a haircut, and my gray roots are out of control.


Do you LOVE it when people who have nothing to say take up valuable space on the Internet to tell you they have nothing to say? What do you do when you can do nothing but wrinkle your nose in distaste because nothing is to your liking?

Drink? Exercise? Shop? Call for a haircut, but your haircutter is on spring break with her kids? Watch TV? Have sex? Pet the dogs?

I think when I get home, I will pet the dogs, then workout, then have a drink, then watch TV while the color sits on my hair, and then have sex. Hopefully I’ll shake off the funk. Until then, I leave you with this:

It’s kind of fun to take unflattering photos of yourself and post them on the internet. Eh, no it’s not. BLEHHH.

*I went to school with a girl who had a dog, one of those high-strung, fuzzy white ones that bark a lot, who had some separation issues, and would tear up the house and the yard, and then escape and roam the neighborhood, each day while she and her husband were at work and at school. So they had to tie him up in the yard, and she felt terrible about it, but she couldn’t figure out what else to do with him. She said that whenever she got home in the evenings, she would go out in the yard and untie him, and she said that he was so happy, so relieved, so very right with the world in that moment, that he would practically change colors.

That’s kind of how I feel. When I pick LG up Thursday evening, I will practically change colors. You’ll see.

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