so don't ask if you don't want to know
Archive for May, 2009
Vegas, Baby! Day two.
May 31st
Friday: And of course I wake up early. Gambled very little until CJ met up with me and we … drank, ate, gambled, drank, talked, etc. Eva (my neighbor) showed up and hung with us for a while. Eventually CJ went back to her own room to get ready and I tried to snooze before I got ready myself.
All snazzed up in my new dress and CJ’s help with hair and make-up we set out again, more drinking and penny slots. Finally time for Bite.
Bite SPOILERS. 6 fairly competent vampire dancers and a weird looking vampire man that really doesn’t do much. Great rock music. Partway in they supposedly pick people from the audience, but one guy overacts so drastically you know immediately he’s a plant. Turns out he and his wife/girlfriend/female partner were twirly hang from a chain acrobats. Pretty good ones and hanging right in front of us. Another plant was one of those silk rope curtain acrobats that was cool too. The final audience plant was a big nerdy looking guy who turns out to be a great singer along the lines of Meatloaf. I think he was the most believable “actor” of all. Most of the dancers were painfully thin, and the star (the Queen of the Night) had a ribcage more prominent than her tits. How is that attractive? All in all, a good show. Worth the discounted rate but I’m glad I didn’t have to pay full price for it.
After that we took the Deuce down to Nine Fine Irishmen and had some fun and Magners, Casey and a couple of his friends showed up, we had Del Taco and headed back.
Vegas, Baby! Day two.
May 31st
Friday: And of course I wake up early. Gambled very little until CJ met up with me and we … drank, ate, gambled, drank, talked, etc. Eva (my neighbor) showed up and hung with us for a while. Eventually CJ went back to her own room to get ready and I tried to snooze before I got ready myself.
All snazzed up in my new dress and CJ’s help with hair and make-up we set out again, more drinking and penny slots. Finally time for Bite.
Bite SPOILERS. 6 fairly competent vampire dancers and a weird looking vampire man that really doesn’t do much. Great rock music. Partway in they supposedly pick people from the audience, but one guy overacts so drastically you know immediately he’s a plant. Turns out he and his wife/girlfriend/female partner were twirly hang from a chain acrobats. Pretty good ones and hanging right in front of us. Another plant was one of those silk rope curtain acrobats that was cool too. The final audience plant was a big nerdy looking guy who turns out to be a great singer along the lines of Meatloaf. I think he was the most believable “actor” of all. Most of the dancers were painfully thin, and the star (the Queen of the Night) had a ribcage more prominent than her tits. How is that attractive? All in all, a good show. Worth the discounted rate but I’m glad I didn’t have to pay full price for it.
After that we took the Deuce down to Nine Fine Irishmen and had some fun and Magners, Casey and a couple of his friends showed up, we had Del Taco and headed back.
| Originally published at Spellwight. |
Alltel means what exactly?
May 31st
It sure as shit doesn’t mean Allover Telephone… or anything close.
Alltel does NOT have coverage in Las Vegas. Las Fucking Vegas! One of the biggest tourist cities in the US, and I roamed the whole time.
Alltel does NOT have coverage on the entire island of Oahu. Goddamn Honolulu! Again, one of the top tourist places in the US.
Check out their “coverage map” if you can see it. Isn’t that special. Can’t enlarge it, can’t get anything specific, and their color options make it impossible to see the actual differences.
I’m pretty sure I didn’t have service in Atlanta either. Can’t remember.
I did find a way to run Internet on my laptop through my mobile (something called PdaNet) and it worked okay, but at roaming prices it would have probably been cheaper to get the WiFi from the hotel. Guess I’ll find out when the bill is due.
Alltel means what exactly?
May 31st
It sure as shit doesn’t mean Allover Telephone… or anything close.
Alltel does NOT have coverage in Las Vegas. Las Fucking Vegas! One of the biggest tourist cities in the US, and I roamed the whole time.
Alltel does NOT have coverage on the entire island of Oahu. Goddamn Honolulu! Again, one of the top tourist places in the US.
Check out their “coverage map” if you can see it. Isn’t that special. Can’t enlarge it, can’t get anything specific, and their color options make it impossible to see the actual differences.
I’m pretty sure I didn’t have service in Atlanta either. Can’t remember.
I did find a way to run Internet on my laptop through my mobile (something called PdaNet) and it worked okay, but at roaming prices it would have probably been cheaper to get the WiFi from the hotel. Guess I’ll find out when the bill is due.
| Originally published at Spellwight. |
Vegas, Baby! Day One.
May 31st
Thursday: Flight up was okay, wandered around the airport looking for the city bus to the Stratosphere, finally found it, and why are homeless people so talkative?
Checked in right away, package deal included BOGO tickets to Bite and I knew CJ wanted to go so went ahead and booked that. Room was nice/average but the hallway smelled like skunky pot. Casey went off to wander around and came back with some orange drink that was pretty good. His friends showed up and we pretty much hung out in the room while everyone (all 7 of us) showered and got ready to go out.
WALKED from the Strat to Fremont street. Could have killed Son for suggesting the walk and not letting me fund a cab ride. Got in argument with one of bitchy girls who keeps her poor husband on a VERY short leash. I’m seriously sick of hearing Ben Ben Ben every time he wanders three feet away. Shut UP Kristen. Had a drink on Fremont and waited for the light show. Disappointed. What the hell happened to the Fremont Street experience? Two music videos and ads for every place on the street? That’s not an experience! Tried to find a cab for all of us and ended up on the Deuce bus, which was slow but okay. Dumped everyone except Deseree and she and I carried on. There were hot South African guys on the bus. Ended up at Nine Fine Irishmen at the New York New York because it was her 22nd birthday and she picked the place.
Nine Fine Irishmen is now my very favorite pub ever. EVER. I want to live there.
They didn’t have Strongbow, but they did have Magners. And live music, some of which I recognize from the Brodignagian Bards. And more Magners. Des and I sang and laughed and drank and flirted and had a great time. And more Magners. I think I may have tried to drink dial some people. Lots of hot Irish guys, damn those people are friendly and just want to have a fun time. Maybe I’ll check out Ireland soon.
There was an adorable tiny philipino lady who, from what other people told me, is there EVERY night right down front. She must be 810 years old, wearing way too much makeup and all dolled up, sing and dancing right along with every song.
I left Des flirting with Michael from Dublin and got back to my room around 3:30 am to step over the passed out bodies and find my bed.
| Originally published at Spellwight. |
War, Inc. – my review
May 24th
I finally got around to watching this DVD last night. I’m a fan of John Cusack, but I’m glad I waited to rent (netflix) this rather than paying full price at a theater.
War, Inc is Grosse Pointe Blank years later with Idiocracy slathered on top. Not the stupid people part (though there was a fair amount of stupid people) but the advertising part. They should have just reused the name Martin Blank and his assistant Marcella and wrote it as a sequel.
Because it’s a movie about a (corporate) hit-man who is burnt out and he meets a woman and shit happens and they end up together. And Dan Aykroyd is in it, too.
Remember the fight scene in the school hallway in GPB? Almost exactly duplicated including the killing the other guy with a non-weapon part. There he used a pen and here he used an air-injecting wine bottle opener. At least I think that’s what it was. AND “the girl” comes in at the end and sees it and runs away, then he has to save her from the bad guys… almost a GPB retread.
And I hate watching fight scenes with John Cusack. It’s like watching a Giraffe do slow-motion karate… poorly. He’s so much better at dialogue and humor.
Final verdict: don’t bother.
| Originally published at Spellwight. |
And for the rest of you
May 22nd
My baby graduated last night! My last and final (and only) kid to graduate.
I’m telling you the whole thing was a drag right up til they called her name.
Overcast sky all day we were hoping would hold. No such luck. Just before I got there (an hour early in order to find parking and seating) it started sprinkling. As more and more families were crammed into the stands at the school’s football field the rain continued. Umbrellas fighting for space, too. The old bat in front of me had one of those six foot golfer umbrellas that drained right onto my lap. Not to mention the drunk ass father and grandfather that showed up 5 minutes before the thing started and bitched the whole time about getting wet. Shut up asshole, we’ve been here for HOURS. What ever happened to chivalry, where the menfolk sat in the rain holding seats while the ladies waited comfortably whilst sipping cocktails in the car?
Eventually, yet right on time they started the Commencement. 805 graduates filed ceremoniously down the football field. In the rain. Then there was the standing for the pledge and the longest and most elaborate version of the Star Spangled Banner (I swear they added verses) followed by some slow convoluted America the Beautiful. Just long enough to gather puddles in our seats. Joy.
I was soaked and I had an umbrella! Most of those kids didn’t. But they were cheerful and excited, starting waves when the speeches (of which there were too many considering the weather) ran too long. There were teachers and staff at the end of each row confiscating the beach balls that periodically popped up. Spoilsports.
Finally after an hour of (I’m sure very nice and well thought out speeches and music) droll they started calling names, and it took another half an hour before they got to Ginnie’s. People waited til their kid’s name was called and cheered and then promptly left the stadium. By the time my Walker kid was up, our little group was in a wide open space in the stands so she could see us cheering her.
And by the time I made my way to the back of the field they’d flipped their tassels and the families were let in and she found me before I could find her. She was sooo happy and excited and relieved to have it all over. And soaked.
Why do they line those caps in cardboard? Wouldn’t a slim sheet of plastic be just as cheap and yet hold up better to the elements?
A few hugs and pics later (no dumbass me forgot her camera, I’ll have to wait to get copies from Ashley’s mom) she made that phone call and shit went downhill fast.
And just about the time I was trapped in the mass exodus in the parking lot, the rain stopped. Figures.
And for the rest of you
May 22nd
My baby graduated last night! My last and final (and only) kid to graduate.
I’m telling you the whole thing was a drag right up til they called her name.
Overcast sky all day we were hoping would hold. No such luck. Just before I got there (an hour early in order to find parking and seating) it started sprinkling. As more and more families were crammed into the stands at the school’s football field the rain continued. Umbrellas fighting for space, too. The old bat in front of me had one of those six foot golfer umbrellas that drained right onto my lap. Not to mention the drunk ass father and grandfather that showed up 5 minutes before the thing started and bitched the whole time about getting wet. Shut up asshole, we’ve been here for HOURS. What ever happened to chivalry, where the menfolk sat in the rain holding seats while the ladies waited comfortably whilst sipping cocktails in the car?
Eventually, yet right on time they started the Commencement. 805 graduates filed ceremoniously down the football field. In the rain. Then there was the standing for the pledge and the longest and most elaborate version of the Star Spangled Banner (I swear they added verses) followed by some slow convoluted America the Beautiful. Just long enough to gather puddles in our seats. Joy.
I was soaked and I had an umbrella! Most of those kids didn’t. But they were cheerful and excited, starting waves when the speeches (of which there were too many considering the weather) ran too long. There were teachers and staff at the end of each row confiscating the beach balls that periodically popped up. Spoilsports.
Finally after an hour of (I’m sure very nice and well thought out speeches and music) droll they started calling names, and it took another half an hour before they got to Ginnie’s. People waited til their kid’s name was called and cheered and then promptly left the stadium. By the time my Walker kid was up, our little group was in a wide open space in the stands so she could see us cheering her.
And by the time I made my way to the back of the field they’d flipped their tassels and the families were let in and she found me before I could find her. She was sooo happy and excited and relieved to have it all over. And soaked.
Why do they line those caps in cardboard? Wouldn’t a slim sheet of plastic be just as cheap and yet hold up better to the elements?
A few hugs and pics later (no dumbass me forgot her camera, I’ll have to wait to get copies from Ashley’s mom) she made that phone call and shit went downhill fast.
And just about the time I was trapped in the mass exodus in the parking lot, the rain stopped. Figures.
| Originally published at Spellwight. |
Hey Buck!
May 22nd
Last night was the last straw. You screwed up your last chance.
I watched her face, at the moment she was happiest and most excited, as she called you to find out where you were. Because I’m such a bitch I wanted to get out of your way so you could come over and congratulate her. And you weren’t there.
I stood there and watched her face as she was told whatever reason you weren’t there. I’ve never seen anyone so crushed in my life. Her face literally fell. There amid all her friends and people who do care about her, she fell apart. Sobbed.
You cocksucking motherfucking bastard of a so-called father. Prick. Asshole. SOB. Useless whiny piece of shit drunk-ass fucktard.
How could you? I know you hate me and I don’t really give a crap. But when you use that as an excuse to fail as a father that’s on you. YOU MISSED YOUR DAUGHTER’S GRADUATION!
I’m no longer going to encourage these kids to call you any more. I’m done taking the high road and biting my tongue and telling them to try and set up visits. Other than a few snide comments on twitter or here I have not been “trashing you all over the Internet.” Stop using me as an excuse for your own failings as a father. Accept responsibility.
You failed and it’s all on you. There are no excuses.
Hey Buck!
May 22nd
Last night was the last straw. You screwed up your last chance.
I watched her face, at the moment she was happiest and most excited, as she called you to find out where you were. Because I’m such a bitch I wanted to get out of your way so you could come over and congratulate her. And you weren’t there.
I stood there and watched her face as she was told whatever reason you weren’t there. I’ve never seen anyone so crushed in my life. Her face literally fell. There amid all her friends and people who do care about her, she fell apart. Sobbed.
You cocksucking motherfucking bastard of a so-called father. Prick. Asshole. SOB. Useless whiny piece of shit drunk-ass fucktard.
How could you? I know you hate me and I don’t really give a crap. But when you use that as an excuse to fail as a father that’s on you. YOU MISSED YOUR DAUGHTER’S GRADUATION!
I’m no longer going to encourage these kids to call you any more. I’m done taking the high road and biting my tongue and telling them to try and set up visits. Other than a few snide comments on twitter or here I have not been “trashing you all over the Internet.” Stop using me as an excuse for your own failings as a father. Accept responsibility.
You failed and it’s all on you. There are no excuses.
| Originally published at Spellwight. |








