Miscellaneous Debris

News from the arctic: This November, we Alaskans will not only be voting for a new/returning president, we will also be voting for/against the legalization of marijuana. Notice I didn't say, "medical". That's right fair reader. The Alaskans have decided to take steps toward legalizing, controlling (like cigarettes and alcohol), and of course taxing pot.

Personally, I like the idea. It's not like the war on drugs has been a resounding achievement. It hasn't been much of anything except a drain on the taxpayer's wallet. It's about time someone seriously suggested making the gateway drug pay for the controls of the harder recreational pharmaceuticals. No word on if pot will be sold in grocery stores or what or how in hell they'd tax and control it if not. Furthermore, no word on what good all this money spent on the campaign for it and, if it passes, paying people to come up with rules and regulations if , and here's the kicker, IT'S STILL A FEDERALLY CONTROLLED SUBSTANCE.

Jackasses. I mean really, there's a higher power that needs to be convinced of this before we worry about state laws. Quit wasting everybody's time and your supporters brain power. They don't have much to spare if they're doped up.

Terriffic. None of me crew has swabbed a single deck or scrubbed me clothes. They all seem t' think that today's a day fer celebratin' and sittin' around on their haunches just b'cause it's me wife's birthday. Arr, it'll be hell t' pay if these dogs don't get t' work.

And to the scurvy bilge rat searchin' me log fer "old white sluts", don't. It'll be straight t' the plank with ya. Perhaps it's nature's way of sayin' it's time fer a trip t' see davey jones if it takes old, wrinkly wenches t' get yer sails in th' wind.

speaking of strip clubs: I left the Bush Company for this? I come home and my wife is asleep and my son (2.5 years old) is just watching movies on the pay channels. Either HBO or Cinemax, or something like that. Either way, who the hell runs this house? Us or him? I guess I just found out.


After the fact edit: I should say, my son and his 6 year old girlfriend. They're just running around doing whatever the hell they want. All I have to say is, I have a cell phone for a reason. All I needed was a call that said, "Honey, I'm getting real tired and I suddenly have another child, can you quit helping your friend paint and come home?" and I would have been on the road quicker than Keith Richards could light a smoke.

Well, I'm back. I know it's been a while, but I have a life, dammit.

Or, at least, I like to think I do. Either way here's the low down.

We got flannel sheets this past week and I can only describe them with one word: Fanfuckingtastic. I've slept on flannels before but never been able to truly enjoy them because I've been sleeping on other peoples beds. I just can't stretch out and properly soak in the comfort when I have at most half a bed or, usually, only a fourth or less. Now if I could only get my hands on an electric blanket to pre-heat those suckers now that winter's practically here.

I've been one rung above a complete failure in the quitting-smoking-arena. Oh well. Guess I'll never be able to afford that jaguar I've always wanted.

The snow on the mountain tops has gone and returned once, let's hope it repeats for a while. I'm not quite ready for snow yet, but some of my co-workers tell me it's not entirely uncommon to have a white Haloween.

For Marci, Melanie, Rusty, et al: http://www.keepersoflists.org/index.php?lid=3931. Perhaps you'll have a few ideas for additional items.

My wife's leaving me next weekend. I know, I know. Party time! The cat's away so the mice will play. No, that's not true. Michael and I will be bachin' it. He's just a couple of years too young for the bars and strip clubs, so we'll probably just hang out around the house. Except for Saturday! Saturday's my day for a poker tourny. I just hope I don't come in last. Wait, maybe I do. There's a booby prize for last place and it's an 8-pack of guiness.

I've been selected to perform the duties of a P.E. teacher for a home schooled kid. All I have to do is take him golfing a couple of times. At least, I hope that's all I have to do. I hope I'm not expected to teach him anything about golf. My best score on 18 is a 98. One more thought on this little segment. We'll be in carts. What kind of P.E. is that? Not that I care. I'll be burning in hell before I walk a course without a caddie for my bag.

Arrr, Sunday, September 19th is, amongst other thing's, like me best wench's birthday, Talk Like a Pirate Day. Be sure to great yer mates and wenches with a hearty ahoy. Tis a day for a piratical attitude fer sure, me hearties.

And . . . done.

ugh. I feel like such a loser. Restarting the non-smoking clock tomorrow.

Wow. This quitting smoking thing is really hard. I'd remove the counter, but it makes it easier to "say no". So, instead, I edited the statement. Two cigs in two days ain't bad. Funny thing is, my chest hurts more now than it did before I quit. Enough of that, on with the post.

We got our first snow of the year today. Granted, it's on the mountain tops near my house, but they've been bright green up until early this evening. I'll be spending the next couple of months watching the snow line creep down to me.

p.s. - Rusty, thanks for the invite, but I'm afraid I'll miss more than a couple of weeks, so I'll have to go ahead and decline. Thanks again.

After the fact edit: I decided to include this pic stolen from here. It's of the mnts I live near.

I quit smoking 4 hours and 20 minutes ago. That's when I ran out of smokes in my "last pack I'll ever buy." I decided that since quitting smoking will save me approximately $170 a month and I can't afford a car I need, something had to give. Coincidentally, my great, beautiful and utterly hopeless one of a kind friend Marci also HAD to quit. Go visit here and wish her the best of luck. She's out of the smoking circle for a reletively short period of time, but it'll be hell. Trust me, I've seen her smoke.

And no, I didn't quit because she had to. It was pure coincidence. Cross my heart and hope to die.