Fucking cable companies
I’ve been a bit lax again about posting, partially because I’ve been without the Internet all last weekend and it’s still not working right. I pay the godless bastards at the cable company $40 a month for high speed pornography downloading, and I expect it to work seamlessly.
We took my dog Skitch to the vet, and $260 (including all his yearly immunizations) later they think he has a slipped disk or something like that in his back. They gave him some muscle relaxants. He’s still not in really good shape. He’s really careful and slow going down stairs, and looks really sad and pathetic and in pain. Hopefully he’ll get better. If he doesn’t, and would require some sort of surgery, I think we’d have to put him down. He’s just too old to invest any sort of large amount of money in.
Apparently my son is the most wonderful, beautiful baby ever in the history of the world.
Every time we take him out in public at least one random stranger will comment on how cute, or adorable, or wonderful, or beautiful, or some other compliment. I do realize there are a lot of ugly people in Peoria, but it still kind of weirds me out when random guy at Lowe’s comes over and tells me how cute a baby I have and how blessed I am while I’m looking at gutters.
I’ve found that Sam’s club is a dangerous place for me to be at on the weekend. As many of you who read this blog know, I have “excessive” tattooing on my upper torso that spills out from short sleeve shirts. I’m also a Mechanical Engineer for the 2006 Fortune 55 Company, and “excessive” tattooing is prohibited from being shown. I have no problem with this, I’ll cover my ink up, but I think there are people within my organization that would take umbrage with my tattoos even if I cover them while I’m at work.
Anyway, I digress, I needed some bulk granola bars and pre-cooked bacon so I went to Sam’s club since it’s cheap there. I normally don’t like going to any Wal-Mart affiliated store on the weekend to avoid the mouth-breathing masses, but I really needed that bacon.
While I was strolling the massive warehouse aisles, I saw a dude at work I kind of knew, and I knew he knew me. It was a nice day, so I was wearing a T-shirt, and my naked ladies were getting some sun. He was one of those people who I thought might not like that fact, so I ducked down the nearest aisle. Luckily he didn’t spot me, and I continued on my quest for precooked pig.
I managed to get all checked out and into the parking lot, when I spotted in the distance my bosses, bosses colleague who is in charge of the tractor I do design work for. I haven’t really interacted with her much, but I think she would also not like the fact that my girl’s boobs were getting a tan. I didn’t have much of an option in this situation. I could have pushed my cart towards her hoping to knock her down and escape in the ensuing mayhem, or I could again duck into the next row of cars. I chose plan B, and most likely for the best. I don’t know if she saw me, and if she did, maybe she didn’t make the connection. I am a relatively low man in the grand scheme of things.
We took my dog Skitch to the vet, and $260 (including all his yearly immunizations) later they think he has a slipped disk or something like that in his back. They gave him some muscle relaxants. He’s still not in really good shape. He’s really careful and slow going down stairs, and looks really sad and pathetic and in pain. Hopefully he’ll get better. If he doesn’t, and would require some sort of surgery, I think we’d have to put him down. He’s just too old to invest any sort of large amount of money in.
Apparently my son is the most wonderful, beautiful baby ever in the history of the world.
Every time we take him out in public at least one random stranger will comment on how cute, or adorable, or wonderful, or beautiful, or some other compliment. I do realize there are a lot of ugly people in Peoria, but it still kind of weirds me out when random guy at Lowe’s comes over and tells me how cute a baby I have and how blessed I am while I’m looking at gutters.
I’ve found that Sam’s club is a dangerous place for me to be at on the weekend. As many of you who read this blog know, I have “excessive” tattooing on my upper torso that spills out from short sleeve shirts. I’m also a Mechanical Engineer for the 2006 Fortune 55 Company, and “excessive” tattooing is prohibited from being shown. I have no problem with this, I’ll cover my ink up, but I think there are people within my organization that would take umbrage with my tattoos even if I cover them while I’m at work.
Anyway, I digress, I needed some bulk granola bars and pre-cooked bacon so I went to Sam’s club since it’s cheap there. I normally don’t like going to any Wal-Mart affiliated store on the weekend to avoid the mouth-breathing masses, but I really needed that bacon.
While I was strolling the massive warehouse aisles, I saw a dude at work I kind of knew, and I knew he knew me. It was a nice day, so I was wearing a T-shirt, and my naked ladies were getting some sun. He was one of those people who I thought might not like that fact, so I ducked down the nearest aisle. Luckily he didn’t spot me, and I continued on my quest for precooked pig.
I managed to get all checked out and into the parking lot, when I spotted in the distance my bosses, bosses colleague who is in charge of the tractor I do design work for. I haven’t really interacted with her much, but I think she would also not like the fact that my girl’s boobs were getting a tan. I didn’t have much of an option in this situation. I could have pushed my cart towards her hoping to knock her down and escape in the ensuing mayhem, or I could again duck into the next row of cars. I chose plan B, and most likely for the best. I don’t know if she saw me, and if she did, maybe she didn’t make the connection. I am a relatively low man in the grand scheme of things.
posted by lawryde at
2:39 PM
1 Comments:
At this point, I'd totally say fuck it in public. I am the master of playing the corporate image. Clean shavin, ironed clothes and the like. I play the part. Catch me after hours and I could be playing guitar with the potheads at open mic night.
You'd be suprised the way most people act after hours. The calmest most conservative person at work could be flying to California for Reggae on the River in Mendocino County year after year or drive a mean Harley up to South Dakota. You never know what people are when they are alone. I say grin and bare it. The most opposite effect of what you think is probably what will happen
By
Steve, at 8:19 PM, May 09, 2006
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