Happy Birfday to me Pops!

It was on this day that me beloved Father Dear entered this world back a few years ago and I'd like to take a second to wish him the happiest of birthdays. I called Moms and Pops' house a while ago and he was at Menards, so it's good to see he's celebrating his special day to the maximum capacity of fun that such special days allow. Actually, when one is spending birthday time at a place of business which is known for selling lumber, M&Ms and beef jerky all under one gigantic roof, one's cup is likely overflowing with fun. I can picture him spotting a good deal on some pipe fittings right now and wishing he had someone to call to share the excitement with. Dad, you've got my number. The door is open anytime if you ever have the need.

So anyways, my Dad is the ass-kickingest Dad a 31 year old unemployed musician like me could have. Why, you ask? Read it and weep.

• He finds good deals at Menards
• If it wasn't for him, I probably wouldn't be a guitarist (he had a couple of geetars lying around at all times)
• Although he probably wanted to, he didn't kill me and my brother when he discovered his coin collection box was empty and that we spent it on candy and tiny plastic trashcans full of slime at Walgreens. Ouch, still a sore topic...
• He picks out really cool dogs
• He grills a mean tinfoil pouch filled with potatoes and onions. And his burgers and steaks are of the most exceptional, finest taste and quality I've ever experienced.
• He came up with the idea of putting Newcastle on Chow Mein. He also invented Hash brown pizza.
• Tell him what's wrong with your 74 Pinto, and you can bet your arse he knows what the problem is.
• He would give you the shirt off his back, and even give you his 3M pocket protector, comb, and pager with it.

Had enough yet? Fine, I'll keep going.

• He knows a lot about fixing stuff
• Once I was old enough, I grew sideburns because he always had them. Being a product of my environment, I thought that's how it was supposed to be. I still got me some pretty decent sized choppers on both sides of my face to this day as a tribute to him, not to mention when it's cold out, they really keep that 1"x2.5" area of skin by my ears cozy warm.
  
• He knows a lot about building houses
• He's a hard working dude, harder working than anyone I've ever known. Like a shark, he is constantly in motion doing something. Now that Everybody Loves Raymond isn't on anymore, I fear that his ass will never touch a couch or chair again.
  
• He has a funny Ex-Lax story that he didn't think was so funny at the time. Long story short, he shared a bed with my Uncle when they were kids.. my Uncle liked chocolate. I needn't say more.
• He used to take me to Sears and Grandma's house.
  
• He introduced me to "boy stuff" like stereos, VCRs, word processors, and tools. He probably tried to get me into sports but quickly realized that was a worthless cause.
  

He's just a really bitchin' dad, folks. That's all there is to it. Hope you have a great birfday dad - I'll try and call later, hopefully after you've unloaded your haul from Menards.

Have you seen my watch?

I can't seem to find it. It says "FOSSIL" on the face and is affixed to a rather wide piece of black leather which starts to smell funny if it gets wet.

My watch was last seen on my wrist. The left one. I removed it last night because I cannot sleep whilst wearing any sort of accessory (I can't even do socks), and that was the last I saw of it. I feel as if I never had a chance to say goodbye.

I'm really starting to get a little nervous, because I only know how to tell time on devices without any numbers on them. All of the other clocks which surround me contain numbers and are traditional circular clocks.. you know, like the ones which gave us such terms as "clockwise" and "counter-clockwise".

I just like little silver dashes on the outer edge of a circle instead of numbers; that's why I bought my watch. None of that numeric monkey business - just concise, easy to read dashes. It had the correct time set on it when I bought it and I never had to fiddle with it other than the two times a year Daylight Savings occurs, in which case I just bring it into the store I bought it at and they're more than happy to adjust it for me. Yeah, sure, I get a few strange looks when I do this, but maybe that's because I wear a helmet when I go to malls due to my slight fear of the ceiling caving in and falling on me. Anyways, they keep trying to tell me "It's not that hard - there's just one button you need to twist until the hour hand moves up by one - all there is to it!" Sure, real easy, but what if while I'm doing that, I forget which hour it was and which one I'm supposed to stop winding at? And don't even get me started on the minutes thing.

There's a few digital visual timekeepers at my disposal such as the microwave and VCR, but I can't figure out those numbers for shit. And even if I could, which one do I go by? The microwave display currently reads :59 and the VCR is blinking 00:00:00 over and over again. That's why I don't keep time with appliances; they're unreliable. You have to press buttons on them to tell them what time it is so you can look at them later and know what time it is. How are you supposed to tell a clock what time it is if you don't know in the first place? I mean, isn't that why you buy a clock - so it can tell you what time it is? That's like buying a car when you don't have any arms or legs and can't drive it. Appliances are stupid like that, not to mention the VCR's time display is making me nervous that either the end of the world has come or that it's been around since the inception of time and somebody forgot to press the GO button on it.

Please, let me know if you see my watch. I am so lost without it.

Wait! There it is over there by those socks on the floor. Never mind.

This Memorial Day, I'm not getting paid!

Yaaay!

Because I am an ignorant American citizen who is about as knowledgeable with history as I am quantum physics, I have no idea what Memorial Day is for. Usually, I celebrate it as "get paid to not work" day - but not this year, because I haven't a job.

Nope. Not this year. No getting paid to sleep in and have a pick-a-nick. It's pretty much like every other day, except it's a really insignificant one this time around. Instead of free money, I get free nothing. Big deal! I get free nothing every other day, too. Not to mention more stores are open every other day. I feel like I'm going through what the Jewish folk experience on Christmas Day.

I decided to investigate the true meaning of Memorial Day so's I could appreciate it for what it truly is seeing that I can't appreciate it for the usual reasons.

I discovered that Memorial Day was initiated by the cavemen back in the prehistoric age. Every time around this time of the year, they'd cage a Brontosaurus up and starve it for a few days. They'd poke and prod and it and get it really pissed off, and then once Monday came around, they'd let it loose and run like hell to their caves so they could safely watch the angry dinosaur wreak havoc on their town. Prisoners were left shackled to a post in plain view of the 'saurus and usually they were the first thing to go.

After the dinosaur had its way with the town and ran off, the citizens would gather together and rebuild. They saw this as a skin-shedding renewing process of sorts and did this every May.

With that in mind, I'm leaving for a few days, so will take this moment now to tell you all to have a safe holiday weekend. And don't be afraid to share this history lesson with the kids over some potato salad on Monday; I think it's good that they know.

Pee-nocchio

Caution: inappropriate observation ahead

I saw an ad this morning featuring Pinocchio and Gepetto as the main characters. I don't remember what exactly it was for, but it was nothing Disney related. If you're not Disney and you pimp yo product or service with characters like Pinocchio and Gepetto, I'm guessing business isn't going to pick up none. People will walk away like I did remembering Pinocchio and Gepetto rather than the company that paid for the ad and go on with their day.

But annahoo, I got to thinking - what if Pinocchio was in the privacy of his own room admiring a calendar with bikini clad female puppets and becoming rather excited, if you know what I mean. Gepetto walks in on him and asks:

"Good heavens, Pinocchio... what in gawds name are you doing??"

Instinctively, Pinocchio would become embarrassed, close the calendar and say "Nothing! Nothing! Er, I was..." [insert awkward silence]

And then his nose would start to grow because he had just fibbed. I mean... and then his nose would grow too.

One of the worst ways to bother me...

I will preface this entry with a lyric from an old KISS tune:

"I'm walkin' down the street mindin' my own business.."

Heavy stuff, I know. But that's what I was doing. And it was raining. A car pulled over and the window rolled down. Being the friendly bloke I am, always at the ready to give blurry directions to the lost folk in my part of the city, I approached the vehicle.

4 puffy old ladies were inside and "oh no," I says to myself... "gang rape." Fortunately I was wrong. Unfortunately, it was worse.

The old lady in the front passenger seat looked like the kind of person you see cruising the candy aisles at Walgreens on a Little Rascal scooter with a cane hanging from the basket on the handlebars. She extended her arm with some 8 1/2 x 11" documentation in her hand and said "Here's a magazine for you!" All it took was a split second glance and I saw an all too familiar illustration of a bearded man wearing sandals and a robe on the cover.

Aw, Crikey.. Another God Damn (that's right, I said God Damn) bunch of bible thumpers thinking they're gonna make the world a better place by doing driveby Jesus-ing because they've nothing better to do with their time.

Aaarrg, this bothers me so. Seriously, what kind of people get together on a rainy day to do exhibit such behavior? Go watch The Price Is Right, crochet, do some crossword puzzles, or anything else but that.

Cottage Grove po-leese department (continued)

Joe Berkman emailed me this link today (thanks, Joe!):

http://www.startribune.com/stories/467/5424219.html

Remember... this man is the head of the same league of outstanding community protectors that pulled yours truly over, impounded my Pinto and threw me in jail because I had 3 unpaid parking tickets.

I'm sure he wasn't doing anything wrong. Everyone abandons their flipped SUV with a loaded gun and unloaded beer bottles on occasion, no? Maybe being that he's the chief of police and all, he must have been too busy to be aware of the fact that there were EMPTY BEER BOTTLES in his vehicle and the fact that that's a no-no. Oops! His bad!

One thing's fo sho: I need to call this Fred Bruno character and have him speak on my behalf whenever I need to blatantly lie through my teeth. If I accidentally walk out of Target with a television set and DVD surround sound system that I forgot to pay for, sounds like he could straighten things out with security so's I can at least keep the stuff without paying for it.

Guilty... until proven you have friends in high places.

Iced Ink Online back up and running and a few other things

• The Iced Ink website has returned - lots of new gnus, new shows, and a lot more for you to poop on; all for just the price of a glass of water. Things are sounding amazing at rehearsal and we're strong like bull, ready to make our debut with new drummer Barry on the Triple Rock stage and tear the heads off of the 12 people that will be standing there watching us at 12am on a weekday night. There's still a bit of fine tuning to do, but the site is up and running for the most part. http://www.icedink.net

• While I'm on the topic of the band, I have a bone to pick with Cheapo's consignment division. I've played phone tag with them for 2 months now to get our CDs pulled back from the stores, as we have sold out of all other existing copies. First I was told it would be 2 weeks. I called 3 weeks later, still nothing, and was told to wait 2 more weeks. I did this a few more times, called the other day and the lady took my number so she could go check and call me back. It's been 3 days and I ain't heard sheeit. There's people waiting to buy the CD (Lanth even prepaid for his!) and it's really getting on my nerves how unreliable they've been. To all of you waiting for CDs, I apologize. Call them @ 651-644-6416 and tell them to stick a fork up their arses. In the mean time, I'll keep on 'em.

• Last but not least, I'd like to thank everyone for the kind comments and emails I've been receiving in regards to my cat Devo checking into that big plate of smoked salmon in the sky. I appreciate your thoughts & understanding... it's been tough, but I'm getting closer and closer to setting foot in a rescue shelter to find another little feller to hang with.

That's the gnus, I'm atta here.