Archive for September, 2007

I’m Bored So I’m Taking Online Tests

September 29, 2007

Yeah, yeah, I know. I could be doing something productive right now…

Update: When I wrote this Saturday it appeared with an “Emo Kid” picture. Where that went is anyone’s guess…

Your Score: Emo Kid

You are 42% Rational, 28% Extroverted, 28% Brutal, and 14% Arrogant.

You are the Emo Kid, best described as a quiet pussy! You tend to be an intuitive rather than a logical thinker, meaning you rely more on your feelings than your thoughts. Not only that, but you are introverted, gentle, and rather humble. You embody all the traits of the perfect emo kid. You are a push-over, an emotional thinker, gentle to the extent of absurdity, and so humble that it even makes Jesus puke. (And Jesus almost never pukes, being immortal and not requiring an act of puke to dispell toxins from his corporeal manifestation.) If you write poetry, you no doubt write angsty, syrupy lines about depression, sadness, and other such redundant states of emo-being that go something like this:

life is a spike / upon which i have impaled mysefl / fuck you dad

So, your personality is defective because you are too gentle, rather underconfident in yourself, decidely lacking in any rational thought, and also a bit too inhibited. Plus, your poetry really upsets your father.

I probably made you cry, didn’t I? Fucking Emo Kid.

To put it less negatively:

1. You are more INTUITIVE than rational. 2. You are more INTROVERTED than extroverted.3. You are more GENTLE than brutal.4. You are more HUMBLE than arrogant.Compatibility:Your exact opposite is the Smartass.Other personalities you would probably get along with are the Hippie, the Televangelist, and the Starving Artist.*************************************************



September 27, 2007

So, what to tell you…I haven’t seen JetBlue around lately, so I’m guessing she either: 1) found a new man; 2) is back with the old asshole; or 3) found a new place to drink. I know I still haven’t told you about the K2 vs. JetBlue incident yet, but I’m guessing that, because of that, #3 is the most likely scenario.

Speaking of K2, I’ve seen her around quite a bit lately. Not that that has brought us any closer. We did pose for a picture together along with another person and she put her head on my shoulder for the shot. Hey–I take what little affection is offered me nowadays.

Tonight, the Jilted One begins a new job in an out-of-town bar. I believe I may be part of the bar field trip that goes down to visit her on her first night of work. And considering 1) her heavy hand with the drinks; 2) her tendancy to under-charge her friends; and 3) our usual bar behavior, it may well be her only night there.

Meanwhile, I’m still sporting a mad crush on the Cute Unavailable New Teacher, but that’s just to pass the time. On Sunday I am planning a nice daytrip to Vermont with someone. Should be sweet. But don’t expect to hear much about all that–anytime I even mention a relationship (or possible one) here, it always tanks.

Oh shit, I kinda just mentioned it, didn’t I?


September 22, 2007

While I’m still not posting with the regularity I wish to I feel I should send you along to what promises to be a brilliant blog: Francis! The Unfortunate Vampire.


September 19, 2007

Something strange was in the air Friday night. After an afternoon with my colleagues–hoping I can write more about that later–and some time listening to reggae at the bar, I headed down to the secret bar. C.’s brother in law was there getting as drunk as he could–his wife was away. The bartender was moping due to her recent break-up, and Rye, CJ, and TP showed up with CJ’s girlfriend. Oh, did I mention that T. picked up CJ’s girlfriend last week? Yeah, she neglected to tell him that she was already dating one of his best friends. So, that was tense. Especially after she told CJ that the seat next to her was saved for T. You can’t make this shit up.

So, CJ tosses T.’s beer over the hedge–hitting his own car with it. And goes fairly ballistic, pretty much telling the GF to leave. Which she did. Then the three guys get into this argument back and forth that seemed on the verge of a real fight several times. And each time the fireworks calmed down, one of them would feel the need to stoke the flames and get it going again. Eventually it fizzled out, or at least they did. Meanwhile, the brother-in-law kept disappearing–we’re assuming to go puke–and the night wore on. I was feeling left out–I wasn’t angry with anyone; I wasn’t sad; I wasn’t dead drunk.

Ahh, yes, love will tear us apart.

So on Saturday night I headed out to a party for one of the bartenders getting married. It was a great time though Ididn’t win the raffle for the Red Sox tickets. In addition to the free beer that one expects at such soirees, they also had an ice sculpture that served vodka drinks. Very nice. Oh, and though I missed it, they also brought out a stripper poll and gave out awards to the best pole dancers. Yes, we all know I would’ve won if I had stayed.

Instead I went down to the secret bar for an hour or so. There’s a new Saturday night bartender there and she is way too cute. And she’s even pretty close to me in age–I know, a rarity for me. Anyway, I left there around one and headed up the hill. I figured it would be about the time that all the bartender party partiers would be arriving and I was right. The place was packed. All the gang was there, including JetBlue and K2 and the Jilted One.

Though down at the party we hung out for a while, JetBlue was pretty much ignoring me, which was fine, there were plenty of other people to hang out with. K2, who pretty much ignored me at the party, was in a friendly mood though and gave me a couple of hugs and reminded me again that she owes me a few dollars. I may never see that money but at least I know that she’ll never forget about it.

At any rate, the night wore on and at 2 AM people were being dispersed from the bar. Usually, once the amateurs are gone, there are three or four people loeft to “help clean up” but that night there were ten or fifteen. We eventually filtered outside where another twenty or so people were already hanging out. A few minutes later it was clear why so many people had remained:


Oh, and not just some bottle rockets or sparklers. I mean two big pallets filled with the sort of fireworks you see a town put on for the 4th of July. The fifteen minute display–which had to cost well over a thousand dollars–was brilliant. The two best parts? First, the debris–smoky ashes and the cases from the fireworks–rained down on our heads. I’m surprised no one was singed. And, second, the number of people who, as they looked up in the sky, would have to back peddle a bit to keep their balance. A classic tipsy moment.

Well, what with the 2:30 AM display, a few neighbors must have called the police. They arrived at the end of the display with that classic “What the fuck?” looks on their faces. Not surprisingly though, the off-duty officers in the crowd smoothed things over with their buddies and the excitement was done.

Just Wednesday

September 13, 2007

So, dear readers, last night I golfed. Although our league is officially done, we still head out there each Wednesday. Last night, though, since I was the last to arrive I had no fellow league members to golf with. As luck would have it though, one of my barfriends, D.R.–who I think I’ll start to call ‘The Gangster’ based on a comment made by a colleague of mine about him–showed up with a friend of his so we three golfed together. And an interesting time it was.

Both of them spoke passionately about the need to keep score–which I was doing for myself anyway–so they could determine who had “bragging rights” at the end. That’s all well and good, but it became hilarious after the first hole. The Gangster hit a good drive, but then hit his second, third and fourth shots directly into a stream. He then picked up his ball and moved it the seventy or so yards to the hole, putting it down on the fringe. He then chipped and putted. And without out a hint of irony turned to me and said: “I got a five.” His buddy didn’t seem to mind, so that’s what I gave him. (For non-golfers, I’m thinking there’s seven strokes there–eleven if you’re counting the penalty strokes) As the round went on, it became clear that they were both shaving strokes. Their implicit agreement seemed to be: I’ll count the shots I’m happy with. The rest are all practice.

One other thing became clear during the round as well. On the third hole the Gangster says to his friend: “I don’t think I should’ve taken that last ‘bean’. My legs are getting rubbery.” And it was then that I noticed that his friend was a bit glassy-eyed himself. The friend for his part couldn’t put his finger on the reason his drives were all slicing. And yet it was pretty clear to me: umm, maybe the painkillers are, perhaps, shall we say, interferring with your swing mechanics? Just maybe? Hmmm…

All and all it was fun though. As the Gangster told me, he learned right away that you shouldn’t golf if you’re ever going to get tense when you play. Just enjoy it. And I did notice that neither of them had a care in the world out there on the course. I suppose though that that’s easy to do if you’re all perked up and you’re only counting about two-thirds of your strokes.

Ahh, I (heart) golf.

Afterwards I stopped down the bar for a short while, mostly because I knew JetBlue was going to be there with her new vehicle. We hung out a while and then she took me on the briefest test drive ever. But it was fun.

Not much else to say. Well I have one other story, but I’ll either save it for later or totally forget to write about it here…

See ya.

Ebb and Flow, the Director’s Cut

September 12, 2007

Well, as I mentioned in an earlier post, both JetBlue and myself have come to the absolute understanding that we’re just friends. Just two people who have a bit in common and who are both kinda drifting through our lives at the moment.

That is, except for the fact that since I’ve backed way off any ideas of being all romantical (nice word, eh?) with her, I’ve been seeing her get closer and closer. And, hey, maybe it’s out of friendship, but I suspect the ol’ ebb and flow is back at work.

Let’s see…On Friday she showed me the latest damage to her car and we hung out together for a while at the secret bar. She told me that she had to go the next day to buy a new car. Then on Saturday she asked me if I was free to go out with her and look for cars! Alas I didn’t have enough free time to do that (and besides, anyone who knows me and buying cars knows that I’m not a good wheeler and dealer). But then I spent much of the afternoon answering her text messages. “What about a lease?” “I don’t understnad all these numbers he’s throwing at me. Help!” etc. Then she came down to the secret bar that night and we hung out again. Including a stint outside after hours.

On Monday we had a meeting together and again found ourselves out at a bar afterwards–with a couple other people–but she was being real friendly. For myself, I kept “backed off” throughout the night. Then, goddammit, on Tuesday she started texting back and forth again and called me twice! This from the woman who used to routinely ignore any texts I had sent. In one of my responses I had told her that Tattoo Guy and I were at the bar and suggested she stop down–in the past this was the most frequently ignored sort of text–and she called, CALLED, first just to tell me that she was going out with her mother for a while but she might stop out later. And then she called a second time to say that she wasn’t coming out because had been pulled over by the police for her lack of a registration sticker on her car (apparently the officer didn’t notice her out-of-date inspection sticker as well). And then told me that when she gets her new car today she’ll take me for a ride in it!

What is up?

But, don’t worry. Until she is begging (okay, even just plain old asking) for a real date, I’m not budging. Hey, if nothing else, this ebb on my side is keeping her close. And right now that isn’t feeling like a bad thing.

Near Misses

September 7, 2007

First a quick scene from last night:

I showed up at the secret bar and the owner came over to me with a serious look on his face…”Hey, Joey-Bagga-Donuts, I got a problem wit’ you. The river’s a little low right now and the last body you dumped down there, well his head is stickin’ up. Take care of it, why don’tcha. It’s not good for business, if you know what I mean.”

Yes, dear readers, it’s always fun to be in a pretend Sopranos episode. I assured him that I would take care of the issue and went to order a drink.

So, anyway, here are some updates for you:

C., the teacher person I met, should now be filed as a no-go until further notice. I wasn’t mesmerized by her or anything so I’m not expending any real energy “chasing” her down.

JetBlue should now be categorized as strictly a friend. We’ve pretty much both come to that conclusion finally…although I guess you can’t totally count out drunken hook-ups.

New on the scene are Myspace chick and Co-worker lady (better names to follow). Myspace chick is a local woman, just a little younger than I and she found me on the ol’ Myspace. At first when I received the friend request I assumed it was one of those “see more pics of me here, wink wink, porn” spams, but luckily I took a closer look. Right now we’re just at a couple of emails back and forth, but who knows.

Co-worker lady is, on the other hand, just a crush of mine. She has a boyfriend and all, but, who knows, people break up sometimes. I know that much. Anyway, she’s really cool and sweet and we get to eat lunch together everyday. Woot.

Afternoon Girl. Well, I’m still in touch with her, but just barely. She hasn’t called me in two weeks and hasn’t returned my last couple of calls. We have been in email touch, but there’s a definite distance that she’s put between us. And not just the 1100 or so miles between here and the Windy City or the Twin City or the Gateway City or whatever her damned city is called. But, that’s okay. Not to quote Morrissey on your asses so early in the morning but “everybody’s got to live their life and lord knows I’ve got to live mine.”

Let’s see, who else. Oh, K2 continues to dwell in that region where I find her fascinating and beautiful and alluring, but the reality is I wouldn’t want to try to actually date her. Just way too much going on in her life. But I will say that she continues to amaze me with her ability to abuse her mind and body in all sorts of ways and yet she maintains the most amazing memory that I’ve ever seen. She reminded me the other night that she owed me $3 from a month ago (I had given to her without even thinking it would even be mentioned again, let alone repaid). Then she reminded me of another conversation we had a month or two ago. Amazing. So, I guess she remembers that I asked her out the very first time we met. That’s the down side of a memory like that, hehe.

So, that’s about it for now. But we’ll see what the weekend brings our way.

It’s Ovah

September 4, 2007

Well, dear readers, the party at #43 Joey Street is over.

I’m back to work as of today, so, as a result you can expect two things:

1) More writing here in “No Setback.”

2) Fewer stories that take place at 2 AM on a Tuesday night.

Sorry, but that’s the reality of being back at work and attempting to adopt a more healthful lifestyle.

Well, at least a little bit more so.

Aww, who am I kidding. All that has really happened so far is that I stayed home last night. But, hey, baby steps.

I still have to go back to the big “JetBlue vs. K2” debacle of last week. That one is so worth writing about…but, that’ll have to wait until tomorrow. I’m still dusting off my computer.

See ya!