My 30 1/6 Birthday Celebration

My 30 1/6 Birthday Celebration

It’s kinda the nature of my job that dictates certain principles of my social life. For example, I seem to cycle through friends every 4 years. Originally when I thought this, I was kidding. But look at it. John, Rachel and the two Mikes, etc. were class of 97. Evil Joe, Steve and Russ, etc. were class of 01 (or supposed to be). Now Tom, Keith and the Ustins are class of 05 (close enough). Then there’s Tony and the Wadfather who kinda span the first two groups and of course a few others like Tim, Brian, and Ante M who I can’t really classify because Brian Moore goes to school like SuperDave and Dan used to. “Did he ever graduate? Oh no wait. There he is in the Commons. Guess not.”

But for one day, they all came together. To celebrate my 30th birthday. Oh sure, my actual birthday was almost two months ago and really, only the first two groups of friends came out because the newer ones can’t get into bars yet, but a great time was had by all. And those of you who didn’t make it should be ashamed. You missed me fellatiating an Asian waitress on my knees in public (yes, you read that correctly; yes, I typed that correctly; and yes, I made up the word fellatiating) who probably won’t even call me back. But it was a good $10 for Wad and Sev. It’s even on video if you missed it. But only like on Chris’ little iPod looking thing. Don’t run out to Blockbuster just yet. And I think a cute chick kissed me. But I only have vague recollections of that. And I seem to think she was paid off anyway. Yes, Chris has just informed through IM that she was indeed paid off. False alarm, ego.

But anyway, thanks to everybody for coming out and to Sev for coming up with the idea 2 months ago. Both Mikes came out of hiding for a few hours and the Evil Joe contingency was kickin as usual. And Joelle and Niki even brought their cute roommate who made out with me for a few bucks. You other friends need to step up to the plate! Except Teresa. You’re set for life.

OK. Back to reality here. I was talkin to Mike (Ante M) Aring (he hates that name, but there are too many Mikes around so it’s gonna serve my purpose here – deal with it) on Saturday night about the forecast. At first it was supposed to be a huge storm (which it apparently is), then maybe just rain, then it might miss us altogether. Anyway, the forecast was changing like… well, like the weather. So I told him that this storm was coming up from the gulf. It was serious. Gulf storms don’t front. He laughed. Then he laughed harder…

Quote of the Day 2/28/05

“I laughed, and then I got it.”

-“Loses With the Best Hand” Mike

Yeah, and we’re still getting it.

Good friends, good times,

D Rec.

Still Standing Right Here…

Invitation to Howl

Hey everybody. You can probably tell by the subject headline that this isn’t a quote of the day. Then what the hell is it? Well, I’m inviting everybody on here to come to hang with me, Barnes, Sev, Dan, Tom, Keith, Tony, Wad, Evil Joe, Giese, and probably about 20-30 other people at Howl At the Moon this Friday night. I don’t know when I’m getting there, but I’ll be there probably until close or at least until Russ gets us kicked out or arrested again. It’s kinda in celebration of my birthday which you probably all know happened a couple months ago. This is how I roll, I hope you all don’t mind. Anyway, I’ll probably get to Howl at the Moon (in Power Plant Live in Baltimore) between 8-9. I think if you get there before 8, there’s no cover. After 8, I think it’s like $7. I know there are a ton of people on this list I haven’t seen in like 10 years. In fact, I just went through the list and I’m pretty sure half of these people don’t check their e-mail anymore. Mike, you know you have 6 ex-girlfriends on this list?

Sorry, got off track. Howl At the Moon this Friday 2/25. If you don’t come, you won’t be there and it will be your fault. Tell other people like James and Fred. And maybe we can add a few ladies to this list, I mean DAMN! Now I’m depressed. You all need to buy me a beer. Do it Friday. Cool.



Rating Stuff That Trashed the Resale Value of My Car

Stuff That Trashed the Resale Value of My Car

The Hood Doesn’t Latch – OK, it’s not quite as dangerous as it sounds. One of the latches is broken, so it sits up about two inches from the hood and bounces up and down when the car moves. I’m fully convinced the hood will never become unlatched and fly up in front of the windshield when I’m driving, but I was a film major who once put oil in the steering wheel fluid tank. What the hell do I know? It really just adds to the over Mercury Tracer-ness of the vehicle. C+

Warped Piston in the Motor – This is a complete guess, but it’s not mine. It’s Goodwrench Joe’s assessment of the noise coming out of my engine. It kinda sounds like if you dropped a bolt in a blender and set it on puree. It’s been over two years, so I don’t think it’s ever going to really matter and it doesn’t really affect the performance of the vehicle. The vehicle affects its own performance enough. It now just sounds like a science experiment from the outside. Which sucks for dates. I have to make sure the car is always off when she is outside the vehicle. Or I have to coast down to her apartment if she’s already outside. Or I just have to get a new fucking car. A-

The Back Door Doesn’t Open From the Inside – I call it my cop car feature. Cespos calls it something else that I won’t get into in mixed company. But it makes for amusing times when somebody actually sits back there, which is hardly ever, because we usually forget about them and they have to sit there the rest of the evening until we get back. Fortunately, this is probably something that will be overlooked if I try to sell my car. B

Interior Lights Don’t Go On – I already talked about this when I mentioned the whole running out of gas thing. Again, I imagine I’ll be selling the car in the daytime, so it will probably go unnoticed. But you can’t read the gas gauge, the speedometer or any other dial that’s up there once dark takes over. But thankfully, the battery light still works. Which is another problem. Cause I know what to do when the gas light comes on, believe it or not. But what do you do when the battery light comes on? I think you just stay the course, cross your fingers and hope you don’t have to call Leigh to pick you up in the Heroin District of Philly. I’ll consult the manual to make sure. D+

Broken Gas Cap – This one is sorta recent. It was actually the fault of stupid gas can I overpaid for. Somebody turned what could have been very easy into the most difficult procedure since time travel was invented. I really think you needed three hands to work the thing properly. To this day, I still believe the only answer was to kick the fuck out of the gas cap. B+

So I not-so-recently started using AIM again (BumpSetNet, please write me. I only ever talk to the same three people on there). I am starting to see the merits in it now that I’ve developed the habit of falling out of touch with all my friends in non-predictable 3 month intervals. Well, I’m sure I don’t need to describe how it works to all of you out there, so here’s a conversation between Mikey and me that may have invented a new word I’m going to use…

Quote of the Day 2/22/05

MJConover7: Guess you just IM’d me.
BumpSetNet: ?
MJConover7: Guess *who* just. . . .
BumpSetNet: ok, that makes more sense
BumpSetNet: and you can’t even really call that a typo
MJConover7: it was a “think-o”

Thank God there’s a new word for it. I’ve been calling them “Dustins.”

Happy Birthday Ma!!


Still Standing Right Here…

Speaking of Me…

Speaking of Me…

So now that John is privy to this new info, he has another take on my dating life. Maybe it’s not the college grads that is my problem, rather the masters students. He thinks they need the real world to beat the flakiness out of them. I don’t know if that necessarily follows a sound track of logic, but I’m willing to accept any explanation that expands my dating pool. That last QOTD about giving up on the college grads came the same day that I hired a 16-yr-old high school girl to be my day camp assistant. Before anyone thinks anything, this was pointed out to me by my two dirty old men coworkers. I hadn’t even noticed. They thought it was something of a coincidence. Well, I’m dispelling any rumors before they start. This girl isn’t even my type. I saw her IM screen name on her computer and it had every other letter capitalized, like if TiVo was a really long word. That reeks of high maintenance anyway. Gee, I wonder why everybody makes fun of me for dating younger chicks? Has anyone actually seen me date a younger chick or have you just heard me talk about it all the time? Never mind that comment. Well, they tell you to turn into a skid.

So my roommate’s girlfriend (Megan) was telling me about a girl she knows in her sorority who has this EXTREME attention issue. As in, she always needs it to be on her. Everybody knows the type, I’m sure, but this was apparently an extreme case, as my roomie described her…

Quote of the Day 2/21/05

“I could be telling a story about her, and she’d interrupt to start talking about her. ‘Speaking of me…'”

-Perpendicular Keith

I think I dated her once.

Runnin into the sun but I’m runnin behind,

D Ref.

Still Standing Right Here…

Masters of Crazy

WARNING: A lot of people were eliminated from this list because of reasons that will become evident soon enough.

Well, thanks accidentally to John’s recent e-mail response to my Valentines Day cynical tirade, I figured it all out. Well, some of it. I still don’t know who I am and I don’t know what to do with this information, but here’s what I learned. John asked how old this chick was and said that it sounded like high school bullshit. And he’s right, it does. Only it’s not. This chick has her masters, owns a house and has a job and everything. (OK, I just had to go back and delete like another 20 addresses to protect her anonymity and my ass – consider yourself the privileged few. Either my good, trusted friends or third rate acquaintances so far removed from my life that you can cause no harm)

So let’s recap. The last three college grads I dated, who all also have masters, for whatever the hell that’s worth, have the following rap sheet: One lied and told me she was two weeks late to basically avoid going out with me because she was too afraid to tell me she was seeing somebody else. Whatever happened to “I have a headache?” I guess that was too bland for her. Another got upset that I was seeing somebody else after she told me she just wanted to be friends, mostly because I was still nice to her after she turned me down. And I swear to you all, that’s it. I didn’t fool around with both of them at the same time or anything to honestly be held accountable for in the normal human plane of emotionally stable existence. And then there’s the third. Well, we should all know what happened there. Beelzebabe reared her ugly head and spewed forth bullshit from her eyes, whilst her alter ego, “The Ultimate Quizmaster” set up impossible hurdles for me to stumble over so she could still maintain her self-respect if the relationship went sour. Damn! I don’t want to shit on everybody’s slurpee here, but I just hit a bad case of apples here. Deal with my cynicism. It’s funnier than contentment. And now the second part of the equation. Think about the last non-college graduate I dated. Steph. She was awesome and not a day goes by when I don’t wish we could still hang out (didn’t know I was going here either – and I just had to delete another 8 people. But I also put one back on). But she went and graduated and moved to another country, so that rules her out now anyway. Conclusion? Don’t date college graduates. So I need to stick to the college chicks that everybody gives me shit for chasing around. Or the drop-outs. I don’t know about that yet, but I’ll try anything once. Maybe even twice just to make sure I don’t like it. But the point stands. I need to find em young and brainwash them before they inevitably get all fucked up. Shit, I’m tired of deleting names. I’m just gonna suck up those last few comments and take it on the chin.

While I’ve got all these names deleted, I’m going to do one of the quotes that doesn’t exactly put me in a great light. I was at the post office and I needed Mike to go into my bag to get my checkbook to pay for whatever. He reaches in the bag and one particular compartment happened to contain my addressbook, my checkbook and condoms. I now realize how funny that combination of items is, but Mike thought to point it out to me…

Quote of the Day 2/17/05

“Dude, you have your addressbook, condoms and a checkbook all in the same compartment? What’s in this one, a shot of penicillin?”

-Mikey McWawa

Actually, I’m allergic to penicillin. It’s alpha-phenoxyethyl potassium. And don’t look that up. I’m not sure that’s right.

Thank God for porn,

D Wreck.

Still Standing Right Here…