monkeywithabutcherknife

Finally, after much ado, I am scheduled to leave for Manhattan tomorrow. This past week has been very, very challenging. I won’t go into detail since I have a policy of not talking about work here. It would be inappropriate. But I will say, the challenges have seriously undermined my confidence. I have to shake this off since I’m starting a new project on Monday. I don’t know what to do to get my mind clear and my confidence up. I think the best thing I can do is get some rest this weekend. So, that’s the plan.

Some of my more astute readers may have noticed the left menu pane is a little bit wider. This is due to some new functionality I’ve added that tracks where I am. You’ll likely have to scroll down to see the new item. I may move it to the top later once I know it works well. It’s experimental but then, the Serendipity software I’m running this site on is somewhat experimental so I ain’t skeerd. It seems to work fairly well. It actually picks up the location from my ip address when I log onto the internet – Big Brother incarnate.

That’s all for now.

Well, at least I have a cold. I’ve been told it might be allergies which makes me wonder what the fuck I could be allergic to in the middle of Oklahoma. I haven’t seen a flower. I haven’t seen an animal. So unless I’m allergic to faux-hawks and fat girls, I’m out of ideas.

On the bright side, I’m taking the NEW Tylenol Cough and Sore Throat and it tastes like a combination of Jagermeister and bile “with instant Cool Burst sensation”. I can’t believe they actually advertise this nastiness as an intentional flavor. It does work though. I’m going to try it with a splash of soda and a lime twist for breakfast.

I’ve started posting my diary from Hurricane Katrina. There’s a link to the right or you can use this: The Little Pink Trunk. I?ve tried to not edit more than spelling and grammar, though I may add more detail as I keep posting more and more of it. But for now, I’m just putting it out there. Mostly, I just want the people who worried about me to know what my experiences were really like since I’m sure it isn’t nearly as bad as the imaginations created for me.

Many of you watched the whole thing on television from day one so please keep in mind that I didn’t have access to aerial footage or other forms of news. There were bits of information from a radio down the street thanks to the neighbors. The only other information I had was from running around town talking to people and the national guard wasn’t even there until the day I left.

I don’t know that you’ll enjoy the story but it may give you a unique insider perspective from the storm.

Here I was all looking forward to spending a couple of weeks in New York (right downtown Manhattan somewhere near 5th and 42nd street – hell yeah) when I see today that there’s another storm heading the same path as Bitchtrina took. It occurs to me that Rita might be Bitchtrina’s little sister. Little sisters are always meaner because they’ve been picked on so much they either have eating disorders, drug problems, weird sex-feet things, hell, what do I know? I don’t have any little sisters so, clearly, I’m making this all up.

Still, Rita is so far out that she could hit the Yucatan, mainland Mexico, Texas, Louisiana, or for that matter could turn back into Florida. Florida must have rebuilt a lot of shit by now – go fuck them up and stay away from the Gulf Coast. The path really looks like it’s heading for the Texas/Louisiana boarder which would put New Orleans far enough out from even another Cat 5 to likely be fine in spite of being on the East Side of the storm (which is always the strongest in the northern hemisphere). I personally think that Mother Nature’s boundless sense of irony is going to send that storm right into Houston. Sounds like something she would do.

So how, exactly would that work out?? Well, let’s see: My house was knocked down by a big, mean bitch of a storm and then the entire city was left in ruins when some cheap-ass, Wal-Mart levee broke and destroyed anything I could have otherwise salvaged. So I evacuate to Houston since they were so nice as to give me somewhere to stay while they drain the port-o-potty that used to be my home. Then this other big, bitch of a storm came and knocked my Houston shit down too!

If Rita hits Houston, I think a lot of people are going to have to question their faith and start wondering why God is going to such extravagant lengths to try and kill them.

My birthday was looking to be a nice, relaxing, uneventful day. I went to the office to do some work but didn’t stay too long. I went for a little walk around Bricktown where there was some sort of concert. The signs were all in Spanish and I’m just not a big fan or that kind of music so I headed back to the hotel.

“And that”, to quote Johnny Rotten, “is when the really sad part came.”

My hotel is right next door to the Ford Center here in downtown Oklahoma City which until now has been of little importance. But tonight is the Hillbilly Olympics’ Summer Games; you may know it as Professional Wrestling. The amount of enthusiasm the fans have is unbelievable. Fake wrestling belts and t-shirts of every kind. Besides that, the state fair is going on all weekend with funnel cakes, corn dogs, and a rodeo. All we need around here is a NASCAR race and we’d have the Hillbilly Trifecta.

Imagine God’s disappointment if he’d sent a tornado through an Oklahoma trailer park (ya know, cause its easy points) only to find no one was there because everyone was at a Wrestling match? There would be the proverbial hell to pay for that. For the first time in history: Hillbillies 1, God 0. Which reminds me, what did those people ever do to God anyway? It?s really just fun to imagine.

So I stayed in and ordered Papa John’s Pizza and for some crazy reason I decided to try the “chicken fingers”. They were absolutely the worst. I opened this inappropriate looking little box to be completely under whelmed. They looked like breaded wharf rat droppings and were poorly prepared. They were dry and a little burnt on the ends with a total weight of about 4 ounces (rat ass hair included). Now, I think everyone who’s read this for some time would agree that I’m a reasonable person immune to exaggeration. So I attempted to salvage the meal by dipping the chicken globules in that yummie cheese sauce and choking them down like a hooker with a cold giving head. This tactic worked, though I felt dirty afterward. The thing is, I’ve long said that the only reason Papa Johns has stayed in business was because as long as they have that ass-tastic cheese sauce, no one will care what nasty, processed shit you’re dipping in it. Thank you for ruining a perfectly good theory with your ignorant, uncreative attempt to expand your menu. Like the world needs another chicken nugget. Think it through guys.

[picture missing]

Courtyard Marriott in Oklahoma City

Well, my birthday is Sunday – I’d forgotten and would have likely let it slip by unnoticed had dear, sweet mother not reminded me. I’m tempted to go get a cake for my damn self just because most everyone I know could use some birthday wishes right about now. What would I wish for?? One wish isn’t enough this year. Maybe I should get a few cakes; maybe one big one. I’m not sure how this whole this works. Hannah’s birthday is, today maybe? I’m not sure, may have been a few days ago. And then Lil’ Bros b-day is in a few days.

In other news, The Roomate is moving out and relocating to, well, somewhere, he won’t tell me; he’s weird that way. I don’t think I’m going to get another roommate. Of course, since most of the shit in the apartment is his, the place is going to be pretty empty. Any of the household items that I didn’t move to the new place were left at the old place and promptly got covered in 11’7″ of filthy, ass-death-stink water. I think its best just to let those items go. Half the shit is probably somewhere off the coast of Cuba by now anyway (look at a map – it makes sense).  Really I’m looking at this as an opportunity to sort of give myself that whole makeover thing. I’m going to need all kinds of stuff, but since I travel so much I have plenty of time to collect it. Ya figure, I’m prepared to live with only a laptop and some clothes for six months – how scared could I be. I think the first order of business is to get an old honky-tonk upright piano and put it in the middle of the living room and not another damn thing in there. How cool am I?!?!

And now for a note on culture: I was out walking around over the weekend, ok, I was really just going to Sonic to get something to eat because it’s close to the hotel and I’m lazy. Anywho, there’s this fountain near there and this dad about my age (African-American – its relative to the story) told his son “Let’s go, my little niglet”. I thought that was the funniest thing ever!! As they walked back toward the parking area I was reminded of the opening scenes from The Courtship of Eddie’s Father. I know it’s an obscure reference – fuck off. It was a good show in a “Mad About You” kinda way. Great, now the theme songs from both shows are having some sort of dueling banjoes thing in my head. Now if I could get the theme from BJ and the Bear in there I’d have something I could dance to.

So last night I was feeling kinda down so I went out with the intention of seeing a band, but that didn’t work out so I wandered into some other bar in Bricktown. There was a $7 cover and the place was empty around 9pm when I got there. The reason I went ahead and went in was because with that $7 cover you get free domestic beers until midnight.

Door bitch: “free beer until midnight.”

Me: “uh, what? Could you repeat that”

Door bitch: “just give the guy at the bar this ticket [hands me a ticket] and then bring your empties back to get another [bitchy smile]”

Me: “Somebody’s going to lose a bundle on that bet.”

I wasn’t in there long before it started getting busy; I mean really busy. And every guy under the age of 30 in Oklahoma has a faux-hawk. What the fuck that’s about I’ll never know. And the chicks aren’t doing much better for themselves, though they are managing to put the HO back into OklaHOma. The only person I spoke to last night was this unfortunate chick that decided I looked drunk enough to give it a shot – I wasn’t that drunk – in fact, I don’t think I’ve ever been drunk enough for her to have good odds. She had these Botox and waxy-red lipstick lips, poofy mall hair, and about 40 extra pounds on her that she kept hanging from under her mid-drift shirt with what was explained to me as her birthstone dangling from a piercing just above the seemingly bottomless crevasse she had where most people have a bellybutton. She seemed genuinely confused at why guys weren’t hitting on her – said she was having an “off night”. I commented that I could see where guys knocking back free beer for a few hours before she got there would really improve her game but I don’t think she heard me over the music. After a few minutes she must have realized I was a no-go and she wandered off to sniff on someone else like a retarded dog on a dead bird. At that point I thought it best to get the hell out of there before she starts lap two. She was drinking what smelled to me like a tumbler of straight gin which meant that her subsequent laps were likely to be progressively worse. The minute I saw her I thought she was a good candidate to be found sitting just outside the door of the bar, just at last call, on the ground crying like a lunatic and blocking all traffic from leaving. I’m in a strange land where I don’t understand the rules – caution is a must. Well, I only have one more week and then I’m off to New York where I’m a little more comfortable – where at least I know the rules.

About a half a dozen people I know from New Orleans that evacuated during Hurricane Katrina, evacuated to the Carolina’s where hurricane Ophelia is about to put a category I smack down on their refugee asses. Good job people. Ah, hippies and hillbillies, when will they learn. I guess I shouldn’t talk too much shit with the whole tornado thing (see yesterday’s post).

It’s windy today in Oklahoma City and that’s when it occurred to me that I’m in tornado alley! WTF??!?? How the hell did I end up running from Bitchrina the killer hurricane to this joint that get’s something like 4 million tornados a year? And wouldn’t you know it, hurricane season is also tornado season. What are the odds?

If I find myself in a damn tornado while I’m here I’m going to have to get upset and think that someone is trying to kill me. Somehow, I don’t think I’m going to sleep as well tonight as I have been. Stupid wind.

I’m working on getting the journal I kept during hurricane Katrina all typed up and online. It’s very slow going partly because of my handwriting being so bad and partly because it forces me to go back to a specific place, time, thought, and/or feeling. I’m hoping to have it up by the end of the week as a static page with a pointer to it through a blog entry.