The day following my last post, Todd and I set out for Louisville, Kentucky. His dad lives in the area and needed Todd to set up a new computer for him. That task took only a short while, he also had to teach his dad's girlfriend how to use the computer or something. I don't know, I was watching Dr. Phil while he was showing her whatever he was showing her.



Okay, so Tuesday night around ten we arrived at Todd's dad's house. We settled in a little to where we were sleeping. Then we set out for the city of Louisville, a short distance across a bridge over the Ohio River, which is an amazing body of water. Nothing really came up that night except the fact that in Clarksville, Indiana (where the house we stayed at was) had a liquor store open until two in the morning. Indiana sells alcohol until three in the morning. I couldn't pass it up, I just went inside and grabbed a pint of Seagram's 7 and sipped on it a bit.



The drive up and arrival sparked our appetite so we went to Denny's. There, we put on our famous and deadly accurate southern accents to those with whom we came in contact, mostly our waitress. It was cracking us up. Throughout the 36 or so hour trip it became a theme; sarcasm+accent. It was deadly played out after not too long though. Anyway, at the end of our meal, when we were paying, I told the waitress, "That was a fine meal. My compliments to the chef." It was in my accent. It was ridiculous and funny as hell. We retired after that.



Morning came, I slept alright despite the unfamiliar environment. Todd and I cleaned out the gutters around the house for his dad. Todd actually did it, I took a shower. Then we did some push-ups to pump our chests and arms up for the day. It was cold and gloomy so we needed our jackets. We hit up a dam in the Ohio River which was very serene through the gloom of the day. We walked over moist sand, checking out all the exposed tree roots who had the soil around them eroded away from the flooding of the river. The shore also had some really pleasant and jagged rock formations.



We headed to Louisville and ate at a Chipotle-esque establishment. I don't remember the name. It wasn't that good really. After, we headed back. I drank a bit on my 7, Todd had wine. That is all.



Early Thursday was ideal to head back we decided. Along the way home, outside of eating, we stopped at Big Bone Lick Park (yes) and did hella hiking. The park alluded to the observation of wild bison. Signs every hundred yards or so with the word 'bison' on them with an arrow. We came to a fenced pasture with pretty large mounds of what we assumed to be bison shit, but we saw no bison. But some trails branched off this main one, so we took an uphill one which lead to an elevated lake of decent size, Big Bone Lick Lake (yes). More trails followed, one upon which Todd could keep it in any longer and took a dump in the middle of a path, on a rock. It was the hardest I've laughed in a long motherfucking time. I didn't see much of the process but it was so damn funny.



Ohio sprung from the horizon as we were on the highway honking at those next to us, bothering them as they were just trying to get to their destination. It was a way to pass the time. We rolled through Columbus and did the same thing to pedestrians. It's fun to watch unfamiliar heads jolt and unsure hands gesture.

Next post on Halloween weekend and getting ridiculed at Luna's.

Debonair-crow

Nothing amazing went down at Andrew's party, but nothing really ever did, to some people's potential standards, but it was the reason I liked going over there and kicking it as often as I did. It shows me personally that all I need is some music, friends, and some drinks to have a killer time. A way to loosen up and cut loose the threads of the past weeks' nooses in a way. Big blowouts were never my thing really.

I worked all weekend which surprised me...WAIT, no it didn't. I had a little time to kick it with Todd at Luna's and chat it up about some stuff that escapes me now but we were there for a decent amount of time into Sunday morning hours. We ate there, and I was just putting back a hell of a lot of french fries. A pretty sick amount. It was hard to get to sleep when I got there, and after like 3 hours of sleep I had to get up and grab some store brand Pepto Bismol knock off tablets which are horrifying to the taste but I felt indigestion reaming my guts so Sunday I spent the day eating them like yummy yum candy. I also forgot to buy a money order to give to my probation officer Monday morning.

I left work early Sunday due to feeling shitty and the Indians game being on. Game seven. They lost. I'm pretty much over it now. I was pissed then, atop of feeling sickly, and went to sleep.

Monday morning I was up at 6am calling Todd about getting that money order and taking me up to my probation meeting at 9:30. He was already up taking Koobey to work since his car isn't working right or something. We kicked it and watched the movie "Falling Down" with Michael Douglas. I like it, but there is some real off-acting in it. Then I met my probation officer, which wasn't my probation officer. I've been reassigned to a different dude, which probably erases my hopes of getting off probation before January. So another $50 to him Monday, and for three more Mondays to come until January.

After I got out, I realized I'm not used to having the whole day in front of me. We went to a couple craft stores so I could get supplies for my Halloween mask. Some burlap and twine. I'm going to be a badass scarecrow; custom mask, stuntin' outfit, and a few sticks of hay. I'm pretty excited because I don't really make anything but music. Todd and I visited the Akron Music store and played some of their acoustic guitars. I was partial to this Dean while Todd played a sweet Martin. We rocked for a like fifteen minutes then cut for home.

" My desire has rid me of all skin and put me to bed with sheets of salt. "

L8rz.

Ego Boost

C.C. pitched last night. And he did alright, but we still lost. I forget how many runs he allowed, but it was a whole bullpen effort in my opinion. So we're heading back to Boston, and our series lead has diminished to 3 games over 2. I guess taking it all the way to game 7 will be sweet, but clinching it early at home would have made me a happy fan.

Outside of that, since Monday I haven't done much but work. I stay up pretty late after I get off work, so in turn I sleep real late into the day, usually around 2pm I'll wake up. That leaves me about three hours to chill out, eat, let that food settle, and take a shower before work at 6pm. That's about three days of my week. Weekends I usually sleep until an hour before work, usually 3 or 4pm, so I can shower. Sometimes I get a weekend day off and that's always sweet. Days off are sweet anytime of the week because I have no other obligations besides work, so my days off are really really off.

Wednesday night after I got out of work, Koobey and Todd came over and Koobz and I had some whiskey sours. They kind of sucked but we weren't using too ritzy a bourbon and I bought the cheapest sweet and sour mix possible so I'm sure those factors played in it's tartness. Plus Todd didn't buy the maraschino cherries. What a dick, right? Koobey got pretty drunk, but he was pretty buzzed when he came over in the first place. He ended up giving me a pretty good scratch/gash on my forehead, I don't want to give the details how because it's so gay, but he needs to cut his fingernails and clean under those bitches. Ughhkk.

Three young ladies hollered at me while I was at work tonight in a fifteen minute time period. Ego boost.

Since when was punishment necessary for expressing concern for the well-being of those about whom you care? Attitude and defensiveness, when all I'm doing is shedding a little light on what I think could be a bad idea. I don't do it in a nice way, I guess. I'll straight knock what I don't agree with actually, but how would I put it across nicely and have it take any kind of effect, or even for that person to think a second time about it? Women, right?

Tonight Andrew's tossing his last Infirmary house party wad all over anyone's face that shows up, all are invited. It's a healthy wad.....What? Hopefully after the end product of the party I'll actually have some sweet shit to toss in my weblandfill.

Skipped a week...

I just now realized how easy it is to not keep up with this thing. It's been a week since I last wrote in it and it doesn't feel like that.

I just worked last Tuesday, nothing else that I can recall. On Wednesday Todd and I went to watch Chris Conley and Dave Soloway of Saves the Day perform an acoustic set at the Grog Shop. If you're familiar with the band, then I need not say that it was a badass time. Usually I can pick out a negative thing or two about the shows I attend but I don't have one this time. Sometimes even when the band I go to see is playing, I'll just want to go home from standing in one spot all damn night. Nothing like that went down. Good songs, all good shit really. Oh. and me and Todd noticed that scene girls are getting fat. But at least as we were leaving I honked the horn at some random bitchez walking down the street and one of them mooned us and we got a good look at a fine rump.

Friday, the 12th, I got off work at 11pm. C.C. Sabathia blew the first ALCS game against the Red Sox. So me and Ted drank at Andrew's, Todd laid off the booze and just kicked it. Kevin was away at the 72-hour DUI school that I've actually attended before so we didn't see him. Ted had driven there that night, and surprise! surprise!, he past out beyond the ability for us to wake him back up. Todd and I ended up having to walk a mile or two back to his house since I had locked my keys in my house. I slept over there, woke up around 10am Saturday morning and walked home from his house. Party on.

Game one ended with a 10-3 Sox victory. It looked bad, but Fausto came right back and pitched relatively well on Saturday night. We were tied with the Sox at 6 from about the 8th inning, I want to say. The game reached extra innings, but we scored 7 more runs in the 11th at Fagway Park. What is with that tiny thing anyway? No wonder Manny and that DH hit some many damn home stand home runs.

Sunday I saw a bunch of alpacas, including a new born over at Shan's parent's small farm. One wanted to make out with me. At least it was a girl, so I ain't no fAgit.

Bounding over twenty-foot drops, and slippery moss-covered cliffs is how I spent my Sunday afternoon with Ted, Todd, and Koobz at Nelson Ledges. It's a park riddled with trails and tall rock formations with oddly enough soil to hold good sized trees. It was a fun hike, I hate heights and there were a few gaps I avoided due to lack of foot strong confidence but I was proud of what all I actually did leap over for the most part. I don't do too many nature-y things so it was pretty refreshing to get out and do it.

Is it possible to get the case of the Mondays like 20 minutes before it turns into Tuesday? Fuck yes. It happened like an hour ago to me at work. This lame bitch rolls up to my register at 11:42pm with two cart loads of groceries. Not really a big deal, I'm the fastest motherfucker behind a register, as lame as that is. I figure she'd be out of there in like five minutes, tops. I then find she has an envelope of coupons, still, that could only add another minute to the transaction at most. I ring her up, beeping every one of her 170-some odd items, 40some coupons (not including the 15 or so expired ass ones that I threw out), to bring her total to $386 and some change. The cash she has on her comes to $322: a $100 bill, five 20s, a $10 bill, eighteen 5s, eighteen 1s, and two-$2 bills(smArt). I'm like, 'great now I gotta void $65 worth of stuff off her order so she can get the fuck out of here'. I was wrong because she yet had $13 dollars in odd ass change (including Canadian coins, which I refused to take) to make her money $335. So I only had to void like fifty-some bucks worth of stuff for her. Grand. So by midnight on the dot Tuesday morning she finally retreated with having paid $334.46. I wish her a long life. Wait, no I don't. Sorry, I thought the term, "long life" meant "immediate death."

At least the Indians won again tonight, 4-2, giving them the lead in the Series.

Fuck the Yankees, Along with Car Salesmen

The Indians ballclub just busted a nut in the Yankees' faces, shit on Joe Torres' face, and wiped its ass with Yankees stadium Monday night. It wasn't a sweep, but it was close. Good shit. See you in your home stand, Red Sox. Good luck against C.C. and Carmona.

Sunday night Todd and I went on a pretty extensive walk for some fresh air, though the air was muggy and weighed heavily in our lungs. We had productive conversation like the phrase I stumbled upon and now hold the trademark for: "Hey bro, check out this boner I'm working with." You're supposed to say it when you happen to have a massive boner and want to show it to one of your guy friends... We're smArt, primarily I'm smArt.

Monday I wake to Mike Garro strolling into my house, then my bedroom while I'm still in bed, at 2pm. I hadn't seen him in a while. He's always getting high. Always. I noticed and asked him where his usual G'd out accent was, and he told me he wasn't listening to much rap anymore, therefore dissipating the lingo almost completely. It was a little refreshing. He then came to the reason he showed up. He was hired in at the superWal-Mart in Brimfield, pending a drug test which he was going to pass. He wanted my pristine piss. It took some thinking but I agreed. Since it wasn't for like a legal reason, I didn't think it'd be a big deal.

The clinic he was taking the urine test was in Akron. I didn't even have to go, so we stopped at a near-by gas station so I could grab a drink to hurry along the liquid digestion process. It was a BP where I bought an energy drink that tasted a lot like Redbull called Blue Streak. I also bought a couple cookies. Instead of having to go back into BP after I had to piss, we went across the intersection to Circle K. I felt one coming on, he handed me a snap-seal graduated cylinder of two ounces and I headed inside for the public restroom. I topped the thing off, and the rest went into the toilet. I didn't spill a drop, you'd think I had done this before but I haven't. I came outside, handed him the piss. He then went inside to the bathroom with a small roll of a half-inch masking take and tapped the cylinder between his legs. We ended up having to wait quite a long time in the clinic but I guess he passed and should start his job in a matter of days. I'm even best friends to people I see almost never.

While we were waiting on Mike's name to be called at the clinic, I stepped outside to call Serpentini Chevrolet to make an appointment to go there and see what I could learn about buying a car. The journey proved fruitless, as Todd and I expected really. But I wanted the experience of being in the negotiating-type of setting. The boldness of some of these people; car salesmen and dealership owners. It's sad to see what human beings do for a penny. Our salesman showed me a Dodge Stratus. I test drove it and it wasn't bad, but beyond what Todd thinks I should pay, when I could get something just as decent at a smaller dealership; one with less of a commercial image. The salesman introduced us to this female financier who seemed, at first, as though she was trying to help. But at that point I just wanted to leave, because she was trying to say that the dealership wasn't just trying to get money out of me, but she was trying to help me build my credit (for future business for that dealership pretty much). She said, and I'm paraphrasing very little, "We're not selling you a car, we're selling you hope." It wasn't long after that that we were out. My colon only holds so much steam, and she broke the pressure valve with that one.

The rest of the day I've been in a depressed fog, I don't know when I'll be able to get a car. I got really tired and took a three hour nap, now I'm about to go for a walk.

I'm Going to Kill Kevin

Thursday night the Cleveland Inidans took the home stand and defeated the New York Yankees at a swooping-smashing 12-3. Kenny Lofton was player of the game. I missed the live broadcast, but Todd's mom DVRd it so we watched it when I got out of work.

That badass of a win there was no damn way I was about to miss game two at Jacob's Field so I called off work. I got a haircut at 2pm, afterward we were supposed to rehearse. At the Infirmary house Kevin was no where to be found. We tried his cell phone. Just voicemail. His work said he'd gone home after cutting his finger enough that he needed fourteen stitches. This is probably something that pissed me off more than anything has in a long time. So much so that I had to just walk out, get out of that house. I didn't say a word to him. Yeah, maybe it's not his fault, but maybe it is. The night prior he and Andrew went to some bars in Kent and got pretty wasted. Andrew was still feeling it when I showed up to rehearse at like 3:15pm. No one knew where Kevin slept. I still don't know, but he managed to go from where ever he slept to work on foot. Now, I say it is his fault he cut his left hand because he made the conscious decision to go into a work, around a bunch of machines that people lose there hand in, hung over as fuck--no doubt in my mind. That kind of disregard for himself is what pisses me off the most. Calling off isn't the end of the world, especially since he's worked there for two plus years.

So one can imagine my distress toward the situation, seeing as how I said, "The band is really all I've got going on right now" in just my last post. Did I jinx it? Fuck that, jinxes don't exist; only associations and correlations really. But yeah, the wound is pretty bad and I don't know how long it's going to take to heal. I don't know how long it's going to take to look him in the eye again without losing all respect for him that I had had prior to this. He ain't gettin' respect from me until he exercises some self-respect.

In other news, Friday night play-off game two started off rocky, and continually grew in that direction as the Indians' Lofton and Sizemore were rocking the bases while the other parts of the lineup couldn't get them in. It went all the way to the 11th inning at just 1-1, then at the bottom half Travis Hafner hit a single on bases loaded and we got to walk right off and celebrate. Go Tribe.

A reader who knows me well enough would probably wonder why I'm up at this hour recording a semi-extensive weblog. I had to take Todd to his remedial driver's course, just one of the few steps he's required to take in order to get his license back. I have to pick him up at 5:30, then hopefully we can find some cool shit to do. Saturday nights haven't been up to par when it comes to a Saturday night's potential lately.

Focusing on Good Shit, as Limited as it May be

It's a little depressing in its depression that words only flow when things aren't going relatively and comparatively well. Like I have to feel extraneously stressed in order to get a word in edgewise with myself. I'll try to flow a little bit on some good notes.

Todd plays drums in our band, Iwin's End, and he's done so for about twelve weeks, about eight of which he wasn't even in town actively playing. It was strange how he had just sat behind a drum kit that wasn't even his and emitted the energy I knew the band needed. We were getting into a pretty sweet groove before he went out of town on business, in just a few weeks of song-configuring he was doing better than anyone I had seen behind drums in a long time. It wasn't his skill but his passion to learn, but it's slowly transmogrifying into his skill which impresses me. The best part is he seems excited about it too.

I can't wait for everyone to hear the songs we're working on. I've never been prouder. There's one drag though: we don't currently have a bassist. We know a few people who can play for us, but not really with both feet in the door; when it comes to dedication and ability. We would also need someone we can just get along with in general. So if you know any bassists who keep it real, let me know.

The band is really all I've got going on right now, but it's enough. I also feel like I have some of the inner-white water a she-devil was causing behind me, and I'm looking forward to some calm, cool streams along which we can just float. And hopefully that stream gets HOT sometime too. I'm too much of a badass in that department for my skills to lay dormant for so damn long.

Todd Returns

Good shit. My dude is back in town. He's at thisistoddmoore.blogspot.com, holler at him. He was out of town on business. Now I don't have to sit at home every night, or rely on drinking to get a good time in. Since he's in town we got together when I got off work on Saturday, grabbed some Subway. It was sweet that we didn't have to feel awkward, and there was no "catching-up" feeling as if it were an obligation. We drove out to a huge Wal-mart superstore thing, which blew my mind how big it was (that's what she said). Then we got together with Koobz and went the the Gyro, I had a few beers while he and Todd played pool. We then retired.

Last night we partied, I again exercised good judgement on how much to drink. I scored a warm body to sleep next to. It's so fucking weird how just that can make a difference in how well one can sleep. Even on just a few hours of slumber I felt energized when I woke up. Like having a hand on her bare skin combined the hours I slept with the hours she slept, making it a full night's sleep, I think.