Saturday, June 30, 2007

What Kind Of Burger Joint Is This, Anyway?

The wife spent a lot of time going through her stuff in the front bedroom today, which has involved an ongoing sorting process for personal papers, periodicals, and assorted books that've been thrown into the mix. The Yorkie is ecstatic about this activity in the front of the house, her puppy bladder never allowed for her to have the run of the house, but she's now getting to take the occasional field trip into the forbidden zone while her mother cleans and gets the house ready for the showings that are coming next week. That's right, we'll be showing this turkey after the 5th of July, this whole idea of moving is becoming more and more of a reality.

I keep looking around this room alone and remembering that I had at least 6 enormous boxes of books, etc. in here alone, that doesn't even consider the shelves in the front hallway.

I myself put off laundry another day just because I'm an idiot and refuse to do anything today that can be put off for as long as possible. I'm still wearing clothes that aren't embarrasing, so we can't be that far into the closet yet. I know I'm doing okay as long as I can see stuff I've bought in the past few years, I get nervous when it starts getting into the stuff I haven't worn since the late 90's.

If This Joint's X-Rated, Can I At Least See A Nipple With That?We drove through Wendy's for their newest bacon-loaded concoction, because fuck healthy, and there was a small blue sticker on the drive-through window that I found very puzzling. The sticker said something along the lines of "this Wendy's is Rated G, you can expect an all ages environment for our customers and employees", leading me to the obvious question: Where's my local R Rated Wendy's? A place where there may be some brief nudity and adult content without any kind of warning, and my Frosty dessert treat may come with a slew of swearing that'd make a sailor blush?

I wouldn't eat at the X Rated Wendy's, for the same reason I wouldn't eat at a strip club, do you really think anyone there can fucking cook?

I was informed this afternoon that my friend Buckaroo Banzai, a man who is amazingly chatty about any of his interests when you see him in person, but apparently unwilling to commit those opinions to his blog has instead begun a podcast. Give it a listen and encourage him to effuse about all his latest interests, he's usually good for a laugh and to point you in the direction of something new to waste your money on.

I'm out.

Be seeing you.

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Friday, June 29, 2007

Movies, Dinner and Wii

I spent some time playing around with the Myspace account last night, which was opened on a wild hair as basically a place holder meant to lead people here to read the actual writing. It also serves a purpose of sorts in that it helps me keep tabs on bands, podcasts and movie related stuff, as apparently every endeavor seems to have a Myspace related web-presence now.

Myspace, MyassI won't believe that Jesus himself has returned until I get a bulletin from him telling me as much, and inviting me to take a quiz and pass it along to all my friends so we can see how much we have in common.

I hear both of the people reading this asking aloud "Why the fuck are you talking to me about Myspace, we're not in junior high here are we?" And if you are, get the hell out of here, I'm not in the business of getting sued by irate parents.

The point of all this is that I decided to attempt something relatively simple last night, just to see if it worked, and it did: I copied and pasted last night's post, links and all into a blog post on Myspace, which I had no idea you could do because I'm Amish and unaware of how technology works.

No, seriously, I would've been doing this for quite some time but I was under the assumption (yeah, I know, assuming, etc.) that I would end up having to dick around with re-working all the various links if I decided to use the Myspace blog to post the same stuff I'm posting here, but that happily isn't the case. Yay, I suppose, maybe a few other people will drop by there and not read this stuff.

We watched a few things from the TiVo this afternoon, I'd grabbed Creepshow 2 off cable awhile back, and since I'll die before watching the universally reviled Creepshow 3, I gave this one a spin this afternoon. Decent enough stuff, in that predictable EC Comics kind of way, though I thought the middle portion was kinda weak. I also watched Spider Baby at long last, it was quite a bizarre film to say the least, and well worth the wait.

Chatted for a bit online with Skincarver, as I had been writing something for the BSL, and found out that he had been doing the same thing, so there should be new stuff over there soon, if the weekend goes well.

We had Chinese with our friend Brian this evening, getting caught up about the new house and the wife's current suicide watch. K is scheduled to see a doctor finally about her allergies on Monday morning, and as such can't take any medication for them this entire weekend. This of course has meant that they've gone off the charts, and she's spent most of the day sneezing and snuffling and generally being miserable. I'm exaggerating her state of mind of course, but if I were as bad off as she sounds I'd be considering sitting in the garage and letting the Maxima purr me to sleep rather than suffer through this shit for another two days.

Oh, Cal What Have You Gotten Yourself Into This Time?We headed home after dinner and played around with the Wii. The damned Resident Evil 4 is proving frustrating to me lately, I've been able to get to a certian level and haven't been able to make a lot of progress from there. I can say that I've definitely learned different strategies for dealing with the attackers, as I've found that you can simply rush past some of them and then get your back against a wall and bottleneck them in so they're easier to pick off, but so far I've been caught unawares too many times to clear the level and truly explore. We also did a bit of the Wii Sports, which was something of an ordeal as well, having not played anything in about a week, I was very rusty. My fitness age continues to yo-yo back and forth for no good reason, but oh well, it's just a game, right?

I'm out kids, off to read the next Cal McDonald compilation by Steve Niles waiting on my nightstand, Last Train To Deadsville.

Be seeing you.

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Thursday, June 28, 2007

TVLand Part Ten

The most exciting thing that happened today was another trip by the new house to meet with the inspectors and see what (if anything) was going to be a problem for us in the coming months.

The house came through with overall flying colors, probably due to the numerous updates and renovations that the current owners have done over their time there, each time apparently taking special care to see that things were done right rather than just slapping it together as best they can and hoping for the best.

The more time we spend wandering through the house, the more I come to agree with the wife about the various built-in desks and overhead shelving over them in the three bedrooms on the far side of the house. She has from first glance maintained that they make the rooms look like dorm rooms, and this is completely supported by the fact that the back two bedrooms are set up with an identical set of drawers, desktop and overhead shelving. The front bedroom on that side of the house and the front bedroom in the wing of the house with the master bedroom are less obvious in their positioning of these same desks, but overall it's a nice solution for people with several children (like these folks have) but kinda useless for us when looking for sitting areas and guest bedrooms.

We had another family dinner out this evening, before the Mother In Law and Uncle leave for the weekend on some random trip that doesn't really matter to the grand scheme of things here in the blog, and then the wife and I chilled out with some much needed TiVo.

Today's mail brought the wife's copy of the Ace Of Cakes DVD, and we watched about three of them that were on the TiVo this evening. At the rate they've been piling up, who knows when we'll end up breaking the shrinkwrap on the DVD set. I personally know the comfort that comes from owning something just because it gives you the option of watching it whenever you so desire, so if it makes the wife happy, more power to her. I always come away from the show with a sense of camaraderie having been in a similar business that involved making very delicate, large scale items and then the hassles of transporting them to other venues.

We also blew through about 4 episodes of Ghost Hunters the past few evenings, which I have to admit to liking more and more than I did on my initial impression of the show. I think the first few I saw had a bad run of them finding nothing and it led me to believe that the show was pretty boring, but on average they usually hold my interest pretty well.

I also watched the last couple of episodes of Entourage over the past few days. The episode where we actually see Vinnie Chase working on a film in the jungles of Columbia, which was shot documentary style form another director's perspective was especially effective.

Rant PalahniukI finished Rant by Chuck Palahniuk last night, which I'd like to say was because I'd taken loving care and tried to savor each and every page since I bought it, but the real truth of the matter is that I have simply been reading it very slowly. Constructed as it is, as an oral history, with small snippets of prose from dozens of different characters painting a larger picture, it builds to a very interesting conclusion. I liked it quite a bit, and I freely admit to thinking I may have missed a detail or two here or there in the plot due to my infrequent reading schedule. I've found that his stuff lends itself to a brisk one week reading schedule to not allow pertinent details slip away before their payoff. The direction the book goes in with the latter half took me quite by surprise and was a very interesting twist from a man known for doing that type of thing to his audience.

I've moved on to some of Steve Niles comic work for something more lightweight and easily digestible while trying to relax before bed.

Be seeing you.

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Wednesday, June 27, 2007

Oh, Yeah, Frightmare Weekend Pictures...

That's where we were, the pictures....

I figure I owe it to all the random Google hits I've gotten the past day or so looking for pictures from the event, so here we go.

From Saturday, we begin with shot of Skincarver with Clint Howard, the Ice Cream Man himself.

Clint Howard And Skincarver

We were still a little baffled by the Romero line at this point and opted to check out a few of the other celebs in that room, including all around sweetheart Tom Savini. Okay, I'm dripping with sarcasm on that last line, but he was actually fairly cool to Skinny.

Skincarver And Tom Savini

We then spied with our little eyes the Doug Bradley line at the other end of the room and since he was one of my major factors for wanting to come to this thing, we got in that line next, as it seemed somewhat manageable. He was kind enough to allow us to grab photos for both Skincarver and myself even after the near change-scam that inadvertantly happened during the signing of our stuff. All in all, Pinhead was a real class act.

Doug Bradley And Skincarver
I can't say that I was overly thrilled with how I look in the picture, but I generally hate the way I look, so there'll be more running commentary on that as this post wears on, as there were a few that I thought looked more decent than others.

Mob And Doug Bradley

Corinthian jumped into the swing of things next with a signed DVD from Jeffrey Combs of Re-Animator fame, and then we got this shot of them.

Corinthian And Jeffrey Combs

We found our way into the line for the guys from The Devil's Rejects, which was something of an ordeal, crawling along a hallway around two corners before even being able to lay eyes on the gentlemen in question. Skincarver and I got pics with Sid Haig, who was as cool and laid back as I imagined he'd be. Rebounding from my stupid expression with Bradley, I actually really dig this picture.

Mob And Sid Haig

I was amused to see how similar my pic was to Skinny's, but I swear we took them seperately and didn't Photoshop them together.

Skincarver And Sid Haig

Bill Moseley was our next stop, and he took a moment while signing for the people ahead of us to go back into the line and let people a few heads behind us know that he'd be breaking for lunch soon. We figured we'd try to do him a favor and just grab a single photo with him rather than going through the rigamarole of taking two different shots in between him signing stuff for us. Otis was way cool and images of him with his long beard from Devil's Rejects still remind me of my father in his later years, and I really like this picture a lot.

Mob, Bill Moseley And Skincarver

We took a break from the lines and endured the grueling ordeal that was lunch in the restaurant of the hotel, before finishing out our afternoon with a couple of people I'd seen earlier. Tom Atkins, the grim detective of Night Of The Creeps fame was a quick stop, and a really nice guy. Unfortunately I think I ended up looking like an idiot in this picture, but there you go.

Mob And Tom Atkins

We wandered back to the Hellraiser end of the room, to catch an autograph from Ashley Laurence. I'd not really been aware of her since those films, and have to say that she looks gorgeous and hasn't really aged since that time, although a lot of that may be due to the loss of that frizzy hairstyle she sported in those films circa the late 80's.

Skincarver And Ashley Laurence

Oh, and just because I found it amusing: When she told me that I shared the same name as her first boyfriend while she was personalizing my stuff, I had this sneaking feeling in the back of my mind that this is some scam she runs on all the goofy fans that come through her line. This line of thinking also led me to wonder when I became so fucking jaded, I mean it's not a stripper saying that I'm cute, it's a celebrity making a casual comment. She was really sweet though, and I actually don't think I look like a creepy fanboy in this picture.

Mob And Ashley Laurence

We called it a day for the convention after this, and chilled in the bar attempting to get decent service that always proved elusive. I include this photo of myself drinking Guinness from what I believe is a large tea glass or some odd sort of wine glass, because whatever it is, it sure as hell isn't a pint glass.

Most Bars Have Pint Glasses Don't They?

I've already related the enormous line we went through to meet the man himself, George Romero, and it was completely worth it. I have to admit I wasn't a 100% behind the idea when we first talked about it, as the line seemed like too much of a pain in the ass, but the more I thought about it, I realized the man's not getting any younger, and if I missed the opportunity to meet him and have something personalized, I'd be a real idiot. I love the three pics we got with him, and I was also taken aback by how tall the man is, because neither Skinny nor myself are under six feet and he was well above our height.

Skincarver And George Romero

I'm actually quite happy with this picture, and though it doesn't necessarily show on anyone's face, Skinny had to fight his camera briefly right before the photo was taken, so I'm sure I was cuddling with Romero for a little longer than he was probably comfortable with.

Mob And George Romero

Corinthian And George Romero

Adrienne Barbeau was at the next table, and as we approached the final leg of the Romero line, we saw her get up and leave with her purse, which was alarming, as we'd all had plans of meeting her as well. Thankfully she returned before we were out of Romero's line, and we were all able to meet her, she's actually much more petite than I realized, and still smokin' hot after all these years.

Adrienne Barbeau And Skincarver

I noticed as I was preparing the post that Corinthian has a shoulder defensively between himself and Barbeau, I'm not sure what he thought she might try to pull.

Adrienne Barbeau And Corinthian

I, on the other hand, had no problem letting her snuggle up, as she fit perfectly into the nook under my arm.

Adrienne Barbeau And Mob

I had the idea of getting my little Creepshow poster signed by Tom Savini as well, so he was our last stop in the room, which left a bit of a sour taste when he seemed like he'd rather be getting kicked in the nuts than interacting with his fans, but oh well, I got my shit signed and never have to meet him again. Thanks for the memories, buddy.

Corinthian And Tom Savini

I don't know that the disinterest translates to the pictures, but I can assure you I would've felt more comfortable showing up uninvited to a Christmas dinner at an ex-girlfriend's house rather than this man's table. I think I'm smiling out of spite in the picture, though I recall just being puzzled at the time.

Mob And Tom Savini

Skincarver had one more stop to make, and got a poster for his son CJ signed by one of the stars of the new Rob Zombie Halloween flick, Danielle Harris. I mentioned Adrienne Barbeau being petite, but this girl is just tiny, hell I had to take a step back to make sure Skinny's head was even in the picture because she's so short.

Skincarver And Danielle Harris

I think that's about it, hope any interested parties enjoy the pictures.

I also have to note that I was thinking that the picture heavy post would be easy to just knock out, but has taken every bit as long or longer than anything I've just sat down and written out. So much for cutting corners, but after resizing all the pics, loading them to Photobucket and then making sure they don't look all fucked up in the translation, this has taken forever.

Be seeing you.

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Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Um, Where Was I...?

It feels very strange to be able to sit down here and be able to write about what happened this afternoon rather than what went on about three days ago. I was able to get the blog up to speed this morning, and being finally caught up after the weekend's spotty interweb availability leaves me wondering where to start.

I am happy to say that I got all the gory details of the weekend transcribed from my rage filled cranium onto the blank interweb tablet late last night and early this morning. It is as complete an account of things as I can muster, and filled with all the useless links that no one ever really clicks anyway, so I feel content with the picture it paints of the past few days.

I have recieved the pictures from the event in my e-mail this evening, but as I'm writing fairly late they will have to wait another day or so, and I've still not decided if they'll be a post of their own or just worked back into the relevant posts. Opinions?

I did very little today, save for watch some television and pick up some lunch inthe early afternoon. I'd slept like a rock now that we're back in our bed again but still felt a little wiped out after the weekend. I popped in the Evening With Kevin Smith 2: Evening Harder and watched the first disc while the wife puttered around the kitchen and surfed the internet with new house furnishings in mind.

She had a meeting between 4 and 6, and then we met Anastasia Beaverhouszen and her hubby Kno1 for dinner one last time before they move off to San Angelo tomorrow.

Back at the house, I popped in the second disc of the Kevin Smith thing and watched that while the wife wandered in and out. She's been doing some odds and ends kind of picking up around the house so it will be ready to show when the July rolls around, which I've been more than happy to stay out of because the stuff that needs to be cleaned up ends up being her stuff scattered around. I'm of course feeling guilty about this because she's off digging through the front room 'organizing' while I'm laying on my ass watching television, but as I've told her before, I've not wanted to mess with this stuff because it's hers, and she knows what she wants to do with it.

I'm now trying to meet her halfway with an offer to help if she'll kinda direct me as to what system she has going on with the piles of stuff laying around the front rooms as a result of her cleaning the back ones.

This will only get worse before it gets better, because the full on move is in about two months.

I'm calling it an early night, as the weather has turned kinda strange as I've been typing this, with the electricity threatening to drop out at any moment.

Be seeing you.

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Monday, June 25, 2007

Texas Frightmare Week (End) Wrap Up

Ah, the creature comforts of home.

We woke up a little late, showered and packed up.

It was a bit odd for me to have no interweb interaction in the morning, but I figured the sooner that I got us out of there the sooner I could be back on my trusty PC at home, and fill in all the blanks that'd been left by their spotty service over the weekend.

As if adding final insult to injury, the car was covered from the back window to the trunk in birdshit, because if you valet park your vehicle, these fuckers don't put it in their garage, they put it under the trees in the adjacent parking lot.

Seriously? Will this lousy service never stop getting fucking worse?

I only had a twenty in my pocket which was good enough of an excuse to not tip these idiots, though I did consider circling the driveway of the hotel and whipping a handful of change in the general direction of their heads.

Seriously, I can't overstate this enough: The Dallas Park West Omni completely sucks on every level. Do not be fooled by the website, you'll get better service at the Bates Motel.

We drive out, pick up some Jack In The Box for the road and fill up the car, then hop back on the highway.

I know that I've not been sleeping very well the past few days, because I find everything past Abilene to be completely tedious and frustrating, just wanting the drive to be over. It doesn't help that you run out of anything really interesting to look at after a certian point. The dog deosn't make the return trip very well, she usually get s a bit freaked out by things but eventually either wears herself out and sleeps or simply quiets down. She never actually whines or cries from the carrier, she just starts panting as though she's having some sort of attack, and no amount of cooing or coaxing will ever calm her down.

The return trip, this was kicked into hyper-drive, so the wife eventually took her out of the carrier and let her lay on her shoulder for about an hour of the drive, then she came over and sat on my shoulder like a parrot for the rest of the drive, about 2 and a half hours.

It didn't help that it was pissing down rain for a good half of the trip, which made trying to pacify the dog a secondary concenr over seeing where the hell we were going.

We got back shortly after 4:00 in the afternoon, I alternated unpacking with interweb time, checking e-mails, looking at others blogs and trying to get my bearings again with how I wanted to approach what would essentially be three long posts filled with links and possibly a few pictures. After writing a bit, the wife announced that we'd been invited to the Mother In Law's for dinner, so we crashed on the couch for awhile, I actually played around with the Resident Evil 4 a little, and then we headed over there with the Yorkie in hand to let her play with the other pups while we ate and visited.

Came home around 7:30, I finished unpacking the other odds and ends that were left in the suitcases. It was especially tricky getting those little signed posters back home without them getting wadded up. I'd not thought to bring anything protective to put them in, a sleeve or folder of some sort, as I didn't really know what I would end up buying. They made the journey safe and sound, thankfully, and are squirrelled away safely in the closet until they can be framed for the new house.

We watched yet another To Catch A Predator for some laughs, this one featuring one of the arresting officers in a weird camouflage suit that looks like Swamp Thing lumbering out of the bushes to taser you for chatting up the 'tweens on the interweb. I recall Skincarver mentioning this episode and was happy to get to see it with the TiVo option of re-winding it and getting a laugh from the suit all over again.

I worked on the blog for a good long while before calling it a night, and there are photos forthcoming from the weekend in question, I'm sitting tight until Skinny e-mails them to me, though I'm not sure if they'll be a post unto themselves or if I'll try to go back and drop them into the posts they relate to, we'll see how clever I'm feeling when I get them in hand.

Be seeing you.

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Sunday, June 24, 2007

Texas Frightmare Week (End) Day Four

Considering the troubles of last night, I suppose I should thank God for small favors that I'm writing anything at all today.

I awoke around 9:00 in the AM, hoping to be able to post what I had written last night before getting screwed by the hotel's stupid plans to upgrade their internet service if it had somehow magically been saved within the window I purposely left open. This was not to happen, as the laptop was still getting bounced to their main hotel page asking for my room number and tha I agree to pay for their service again.

I call downstairs, get a very apologetic woman on the phone who walks me through signing into their 'elite' service and assures me that we won't be charged for the internet use this weekend, which is somewhat comforting and about the only thing these people have done right in my opinion since we've been in this shithole.

The saddest part is that it's not even that it's a bad hotel, it's pretty nice looking actually, it's that the staff seems to completely suck at nearly every aspect of their jobs.

I start re-typing last night's post from the fifth paragraph or so where it stopped saving, until my phone rings and Skincarver lets me know that he's downstairs in the George Romero line, as his plan is to grab a few more autographs and then head back home early today. I also hear from Ellen Aim who let's me know that Corinthian in on his way, so I get dressed and head downstairs, leaving the wife and Yorkie sleeping in the room. I pick up coffee for Skinny and myself and then wander ass around until I find him in line. We visit for awhile, bemoaning the fate of standing in line all afternoon to only have Romero leave for lunch or some other such catastrophe.

Corinthian eventually joins us, the line creeps forward slowly, we visit and people watch.

CreepshowK calls on the cell to let me know that she's coming down to check things out, as she's wondered what this thing was going to be like. She meets us and we four now stand in line and visit. Skinny has been in the line himself for over 2 hours and change at this point, so he's getting more antsy as we creep past 12 o'clock and at long last round the doorway to the signing room.

"He's gonna be going to lunch, I just fuckin know it.."

This is thankfully not the case, as we are able to get personalized items and pics taken with the Godfather of the modern horror film, it's quite exciting and he seems like a very likeable guy.

Not What She Was Wearing At The Con, Damn The LuckSince we're in the neighborhood, we also slide on down to Adrienne Barbeau's table and get her to sign and take photos as well. She's very sweet and still looks great. Having gotten my little Creepshow mini-poster signed by the director and one of the stars, I want to hit Tom Savini's table and get it signed by him as well, so we head that way next.

I recall Savini being cool to Skincarver yesterday morning.

This isn't necessarily the case with our experience, as Corinthian asks him to sign his Creepshow print and a couple of DVD's, which he does, simply writing his name on the poster and then signing the DVD's on the plastic instead of on the actual sleeve, as well as the photo Corinthian purchases. Skinny snaps a pic of them together and then I asked if he could personalize the poster to me, and he says yes, if "this's okay with you?", not really bothering to make eye contact as he asks, indicating a sign saying that he'll sign any of your merchandise if you purchase one of his photos for $20.

I say that's cool, select the pic I want, which he signs (sans personalization, naturally) and then I ask if I can get a photo, which Skinny dutifully snaps, I give him $20 and we get the hell out of there. The personalization thing bugged me a little, because I'm buying this to decorate my home because I'm a fan, not to put on eBay later in the week.

I don't quite know how to take series of interactions, as he just seemed at least vaguely put out by the whole thing and I know for a fact that he'd just returned from receiving a lifetime achievement award in the auditorium, so his day couldn't have been that bad, right? It was just strange to me, as we weren't holding up a line (we were the only people at his table at the time), none of us said anything shitty or anything like that, so it really took me by surprise, especially since he seemed cool when Skinny came by the day before, though I may be mis-remembering.

Although a quick Google search seems to support the idea that it wasn't just us, and that this is par for the course when dealing with the guy. Weird, I always figured being paid to accept a compliment, sign your name and take the occasional picture with a fan couldn't be that horrible of a gig.

He should take a cue from Adrienne Barbeau's book title.

Rob Zombie Halloween PosterWe take a cruise around the vendor room so Skinny can grab a few other items for family members, including a signed poster from the new Halloween film. I snap a picture of him with Danielle Harris, who is so tiny that I have to step back to fit them both in the frame, otherwise I'd have cut half his head off if I'd kept it centered to her height.

Skinny says his goodbyes and heads back to Houston, and Corinthian, K and I grab a pizza from the lobby and eat a bite to try and re-group.

The wife heads back up to the room to relax, and Corinthian and I sit in on the panel about Texas based horror film makers, which left us somewhat cold. More power to anyone who has the drive to make their own films, but this was mostly a lot of backslapping amongst friends rather than anything that informational for those of us not within their loop. A few of the trailers looked interesting enough I suppose, but the panel told us very little overall. I only learned that they all know each other, work together frequently and that they consider themselves very edgey and offensive, and the Q & A consisted of a single question from the audience, as they ran out of time after all the chit chat amongst the panelists.

We skipped the film screening that was coming next and hit the vendor rooms to see if we could find a specific poster Corinthian wanted. We came up empty handed on that one, and eventually called it a day, heading back up to the room.

The wife suggests heading into Dallas to check out this enormous Home Depot to try and get some ideas for decorating the new fancy schmancy house we're buying and since we're pretty much horrored-out, we call downstairs for the car and head out.

Afterwards we wander through a Half Price Books, pick up a few things and then put a call in to Morris to see if he wants to have a few drinks at Snookie's.

We are eventually met by Morris, and then Ellen Aim joins us once she gets off work, and we walk across the street to Pappadeaux for some dinner. Dinner drags the fuck on without anyone noticing, and we walk out of the restaurant around 10 in the evening, quite by accident. Once in the parking lot we say our goodbyes to everyone except for poor Corinthian, whose car is at our hotel, leaving him with a 45 minute drive back to his house once we finally get way back out there.

We send him on his way and the internet service at the hotel is still pretty slow and shitty, upgraded or not, so I resign myself to just open the blog window and dick with it at another time.

I get a call from Macguffin, making sure I'm alive since I haven't written anything in a few days due to lack of interweb service. Relieved that I'm not dead, he rests assured that I'll bore him with all the details as soon as I can get to a decent interweb portal.

I read a bit and then get to bed early, not looking forward to our drive home tomorrow.

Be seeing you.

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Saturday, June 23, 2007

Texas Frightmare Week (End) Day Three

I'm opening the portal early in the day, as I have no idea where I'll be later this evening when I need to be Blogging all about it.

Today kicked off the actual Texas Frightmare Weekend in its normal form, without all the VIP whatnot we passed on that happened last night. I sent the wife and Morris on their way so they could get a jump on shopping, and then met Skincarver in his room, making plans for Corinthian to meet us downstairs. We headed down, only to be met with a lobby filled with people in line for something, which we kinda figured was the ticket booth where we needed to pick up our will-call tickets.

I held a place in line as Skinny decided to look around and see what the actual deal was, in case we'd ended up in the wrong line. This was of course the case, and we headed deeper into the hotel ballroom area to the will-call area, getting our bracelets that pass for tickets to the event. In the process we ran across Corinthian, who had just so happened to make his way in through the side door that this was located by.

We made a circuit of the room, just kinda checking things out, amused by all the Goth girls in their scrawny fishnetted glory. It was interesting to also puzzle over the presence of the Suicide Girls, and what they exactly have to do with horror.

In our initial pass of the main vendor room, Corinthian noticed Cerina Vincent's table as we turned a corner, and asked if she'd mind signing his copy of the Cabin Fever DVD, and she said no problem. As he was fishing it out of his bag she mentioned that it would be $15, and he replied "Oh...well then nevermind." and zipped the bag back up and moved on, surprised that he'd be paying people to sign merchandise of theirs that he'd already paid for. I kinda kidded him about his naivete, but knew that I'd be paying through the nose soon enough.

It was actually Skinny who jumped into the swing of things first though, he bought a signed photo from Clint Howard, and then had me snap a photo of the two of them together.

We drifted into the next room, where Skinny also got a signed photo from Tom Savini as well as a shot of he and Tom together.

We ran through the line to meet Doug Bradley, who looked quite dapper in a sport jacket and a "WWPinheadDO?" t-shirt. Skinny had him personalize a copy of his biography, and when he asked what he owed him, Bradley replied $50. I myself was putting the book back down at this point, as that was a little too rich for my blood. Skinny didn't even blink, and started throwing out a couple of twenties, fishing for a ten in his wallet. Bradley looked confused and asked what he was doing, because the book was only $15. They joked back and forth about the misunderstanding and Bradley almost ended up giving him too much change back after it was all said and done. It's weird to inadvertantly run a change scam on one of the icons of horror but makes for a great anecdote. I snapped a picture of Skinny and Bradley, and then picked up my own copy of the book and a pic as well.

Corinthian had Re-Animator's Jeffrey Combs personalize their copy of the DVD to his wife Ellen Aim, and got a picture taken with him.

A bit more wandering led us to the line for the Devil's Rejects cast, and both Skinny and myself bought signed stuff and had a picture snapped with Sid Haig, who was super cool. I picked up a little Japanese mini-poster from him that he personalized, which was cool because I've almost bought the same poster on eBay several times. We made our way down and I picked up a copy of a Cornbugs CD and a signed still from Werewolf Women Of The SS from Bill Moseley, waited for Skinny to make a similar purchase and then Corinthian snapped a photo of the three of us together.

We hit the Halloween panel, if only to cool off, as the vendor rooms were a steamy jungle by this point. The hotel went on to prove that they have no idea how to deal with any situation, as they were still realizing at this point that they needed to bring in chairs for a seated Q & A style panel. This meant that hotel flunkies were dragging in chairs from the back to seat the audience members even as the guests were being announced and seated onstage. Danielle Harris is tiny and super cute, and everyone spoke highly of the new re-imagining of the film, but then I've never really seen an actor who bags on their current project before it hits theaters.

We decided to grab some food in the hotel restaurant, and after waiting behind a guy talking to the hostess who we thought was a patron and turned out to be a friend of hers or something, we were finally told that we could seat ourselves, as one half of the restaurant was closed. We sat at the far end of the bar where we were able to find an empty table, scoping out the situation, which was about 12 customers sitting around the bar with the 2 bartenders, and one single waiter wandering intermittently around the four tables or so at the other end of the bar.

We proceed to sit there for over 20 minutes until I'm pissed off enought to go and tell the waiter that we'd like to see a menu, gesturing in the direction of our table. I'm not sure if all white people look alike to him in some strange sort of reverse racism, but he comes back, bringing a menu to the couple sitting at the end of the bar closest to us, confers with them, and then they leave before he ever brings them anything else. This leads me to believe that he didn't even fucking know where we were, but who knows what's really happening at this point?

A bartender acknowledges us, but never comes back.

Steadily drifting from annoyed to completely angry, I grab the other bartender's attention and tell him we'd like to place drink and food orders, bring us menus. He heads to the other end of the bar and is waylaid by other patrons. A few other server-types have now trickled in, and one of them asks if we've been helped, we assure her that NO ONE is helping us, and she asks what we'd like, we ask for menus, she says something about her manager and walks away. We're theorizing at this point about possibly having seated ourselves in an area not designated for food service, but there's empty plates on the next table, so I'm at this point debating throwing the television in the room down the hallway or any kind of petty wanton destruction I can muster in childish retaliation, because their service is in their ass at this hotel.

What we assume is a manager based on the sport coat finally approaches, takes our food and drink order, and leaves. He returns with beers, and small ice-water or juice glasses for us to drink them from, which has me wondering why the hell I'm drinking what should be a pint of Guinness from a water glass, but we're trying to make the best of this. The food is served by the lousy waiter I spoke to earlier, who goes on to bring another round of drinks and the check. I simply look at him and go back to eating, and mills around, insisting that we settle up, because he's been working since 5:30 that morning and is trying to end his shift.

I'm thinking fuck him, let him wait, but Skinny pulls out his wallet and settles up out of pity.

Corinthian observes that if he'd waited on us when we first sat down we'd already be fucking gone, though he unfortunately doesn't say this to the waiter himself.

Turn It Off!We're met by Ellen Aim as she was able to sneak out of work early and she wanders the rooms with us, scoping things out until she gets antsy because she's not wearing the little bracelet thingy, the absence of which will most likely get her booted, so she retires to the bar to have a drink and wait on us to finish up. My afternoon agenda is to get an autograph from Ashley Laurence of Hellraiser, as well as Tom Atkins from Night Of The Creeps and Halloween III, the unfairly maligned stand-alone film that doesn't feature Michael Myers.

I get a mini-poster from Halloween III signed and personalized to me, as well as a picture with Atkins. As we walk away from the table I notice that the poster is also signed by Nancy Loomis, one of the stars of the first Halloween film, who actually turns up as the ex-wife of Atkins character, so that's a nice little bonus, though I'm unsure how the signature got there without someone paying money for it.

Teaser PosterSkinny and I both purchase stuff and get it personalized by Ashley Laurence. Skinny buys a print of one of her oil-paintings, a gruesome image of an autopsied female, and I pick up one of the original Hellraiser mini-posters, but without the photo art, rather the old school drawing of a demon that looks nothing like the Cenobites of the film peering around a doorway. Laurence poses for a picture with Skinny and then myself, she was gorgeous and doesn't look a day older than when she made the films, it's kinda freaky, as I'm sure she's got to be at least in the neighborhood of 40 or so; she's definitely doing something right.

Skinny suggests a possible pact with the Devil, which seems to be working out for her.

We call it a day around this point, drop the stuff off in the rooms and go downstairs to meet Ellen in the bar for drinks. Thus begins round two of us versus the bartenders, who apparently tell Skinny that they're out of Guinness, then one of them says that he'll go find some in another area of the hotel and disappears. Skinny returns with everyone else's booze, relates this story to me and says that he wanted to tell the guy that they could fuck up anyone's order except mine, as edgey as I'm feeling about the service in the hotel so far.

They drink and we talk and Skinny eventually offers to try and get a substitute drink, only to finally return with a Guinness and yet another improper glass to drink it from; I'm quite puzzled with this bar, because what kind of full service bar doesn't offer beer in pub glasses? We chill, and when the next round is ordered Skinny is again told that they don't have any Guinness, only to have the other bartender who borderline gives a fuck tell his fellow employee that yes, they do indeed have Guinness, and thankfully serves him one.

We adjourn from the bar to head into Dallas to meet people for the True Colors concert that Morris and K have been so excited to go to. Skinny takes a pass on this one in favor of catching a free screening of a local horror flick at the hotel.

We meet at Morris' apartment and drink for awhile, which turns out to be a mistake, as the opening act and Debbie Harry are completely done by the time we wander our way to the venue, and take our place on the upper lawn amidst all the other queens in town. Ellen and Corinthian apparently annoyed a lesbian couple by sharing a passionate kiss during the Erasure set, and once it became apparent that Cyndi Lauper wasn't going to be performing any of the 80's material that Morris was interested in hearing fast enough, we split a bit early and beat traffic.

Erasure was cool though.

And it was amusing to watch some lesbian woman in a wife-beater that read 'Rosie is a terrorist' stand up and flip off Rosie O'Donnell during her entire time onstage.

We hit a Jack In The Box on the way back to the apartment, ate and then headed back to the hotel.

I started writing my blog crap for the day, getting up a good speed with it and not really noticing the fact that the stupid 'auto-save' thing wasn't connecting to Blogger until I'd run through most of the day in my little retrospective. Once I did notice it, I decided to investigate via another of the windows I had open, which kicked me back to the hotel's main page. I went through this several times until I was forced to call the front desk who informed me that the Saturday night of a fucking convention at one AM was when they decided to bump their internet service offline for upgrades. So everything I just wrote was completely fucked.

I growlingly suggest that perhaps next time they should mention to their guests that the fucking service they've been charged for will be unavailable before just yanking the service out from under them and hang up.

Seething with rage, after a time I manage to sleep.

Be seeing you (probably with an ulcer)

(Seriously, this hotel sucks so much.)

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Friday, June 22, 2007

Texas Frightmare Week (End) Day Two

Writing in a bit of a bad mood this evening, more on that later...

We slept in fairly late today, then the wife took a shower, and we waited for Morris to get off work. He was taking a half day at the office and dropped by the hotel to get us and we followed him to his apartment so he could change.

We went to Houston's for lunch, which involved to usual 20 minute wait, but was worth it.

We met Corinthian and Ellen Aim at Northpark Mall afterwards, and we wandered the length of the mall, the wife and Morris buying a few things here and there.

We finally heard from Skincarver around 7:00 in the evening, who said he just wanted to chill for awhile in his room after his drive in, and to give him a call once we got back to the hotel. We went to The Metro Grill for some burgers and then made plans for the rest of the evening, as it was creeping past 9:00 and we wanted to try and see Skincarver before it was too late in the evening. Ellen Aim and Corinthian elected to pass on the trip to the hotel, as it would give them over an hour and a half drive home, with Ellen having to be up for work in the AM.

We said our goodbyes to Ellen Aim and Corinthian, then hit a supermarket for some beer, as we figured it'd be easier to chill in the room than to be forced to hang out in the bar.

Imagine our surprise when we are accosted by a hotel staff member who announces that it's against TABC (Texas Alcoholic Beverage Commission) policy to allow outside liquor to be brought into the hotel. Morris tells her point blank that this is a lie, and she then switches her story to one that it's against hotel policy for us to bring outside liquor into the rooms. This all smacks of bullshit, which I personally chalk up to the kinda sketchy nature of the guests who are attending the convention, because I guarantee if we'd walked this shit in inside our Louis Vuitton luggage rather than grocery bags (I'd honestly never thought about it, it sounds pretty white trash when you see it in print), there wouldn't have been any issue.

I can tell you for a fact that I've carried any number of things, food, booze, etc. into a hotel before and never had an issue, I fear that this chain can be added to the long list of people and organizations that can kiss my ass.

I honestly didn't think a thing of it (the bags), as the average hotel doesn't give a shit what you're doing unless it affects them directly.

Morris and this bitch go around a few times, until he suggests that she should indeed involve the off-duty cops (basically calling her bluff), but as they are obviously being paid to take the side of the hotel, and rather than get arrested, Morris lets it go and we go outside and find a valet so we can put this shit in the trunk of the car.

I stood back from the exchange on this, deciding to be the voice of reason if things got too serious and entered that 'somebody's getting arrested' area, but it thankfully never went that far.

The only way this story could be any better would be if we had a fucking gram of Coke in our pockets, but are getting hassled about a perfectly legal substance that we have every right to possess, but might cut into their bar service.

I think what makes me the most angry about shit like this is being called down like a child who's misbehaving when I'm minding my own business and not bothering anyone. I get it if there's complaints and we're fucking up and being stupid, but the change of tune midstream leads me to believe that they're hedging their bets and just being shitty for no real reason.

I have to say that thus far, the service with the Dallas Omni has been pretty fucking lacking, and that's before you start factoring in the bullshit tonight. They have a less valets than you see at the average restaurant, and were amazingly tactless in the situation, opening with a line about confiscating the items in question.

Fuck this hotel, and I'm glad the dog has decided that their bathmat is her piss-pad for the week, especially considering that our supposedly non-smoking room reeked of cigar smoke when we first checked in.

Be seeing you.

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Thursday, June 21, 2007

Texas Frightmare Week (End) Day One

I'm opening the blogging portal shortly before we leave to meet Morris for dinner.

We drove out this morning after a near full day's work. I got together with the bossman, got paid and deposited the check. The wife made time to visit the office of one of her charities, and then we visited the realtor at her office. The counter offer for the house was $20,000 less than the asking price, and we signed off on things to get the ball rolling.

That's right, kids, we're moving! Late August, if things go as planned. Wow.

We loaded up the dog and the luggage and headed out for Dallas around 11:30 this morning.

We made great time, and aside from a brief bathroom stop for the wife and getting rained on around Weatherford, we didn't encounter any complications on the drive. Okay, aside from a near miss outside of Fort Worth and a weird problem around the exits to Six Flags, because I just love driving down a freaking HIGHWAY doing about 20 miles per hour.

We checked into the hotel that the convention is in, the Dallas Omni, and then chilled until Morris was getting off work. We then jumped onto the parking lot that is 635, then took the tollway across town and made our way to Morris' apartment.

Dinner was at a place the wife and Morris wanted to go to called Matt's, which was great Mexican food, and then we had a couple drinks at a bar that Morris suggested before heading back to his apartment and getting the car to go back to the hotel.

I'm out kids, it's been a really long day.

Be seeing you.

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Wednesday, June 20, 2007

Pressed For Time

I'm going to make this quick this evening, because I need to get a decent night's sleep before the long-ass drive to Dallas tomorrow. We're going in early to settle in and do some shopping and the usual dicking around before the actual Frightmare Weekend thing starts on Saturday. The wife has already made plans to be otherwise engaged with Morris on Saturday so Corinthian, Skincarver and myself can wander the convention and get our horror geek on.

I finished my other project today, but was unable to get ahold of the bossman until late this evening, so I'll have to run by and see him tomorrow morning before we leave.

The wife is still stressing about this house thing (hey, understandably, this is her money we're talking about, God knows I have no nest-egg to help out with on this), so she made plans at the last minute this morning to check out three other houses in the same price range as what we're trying to buy. One house was vacant, the other two were brand new and recently built due to the boom in the local housing market. None of them came close to touching the one we're making an offer on, and we signed the appropriate paperwork to get that ball rolling, the official 'low-ball' offer.

There has been a counter-offer, but we got the message too late today to get back to the realtor to find out what it was, for all we know they may have offered that we could go fuck ourselves with our low offer. We'll get together with her in the morning to see what's up before we go out of town.

The only bad part about doing the random house tours was that it forced me to stop working in the mid-morning, and after we met the realtor, then grabbed some lunch, it was well into the afternoon. I was an idiot and offered that maybe we should take food over to the Mother In Law and visit her since we're leaving tomorrow, so that kinda drug on for longer than I thought it would. Once I got back home, it took me about another hour and a half to finish my stuff.

Fuckin' Game Over Man! Game Over!I was then free to go and grab the one thing I'd been kinda anticipating for the Wii, which has thus far had a serious lack of anything really dark-themed to play. That was fixed to day with the release of Resident Evil 4. It of course wasn't on the shelf at Best Buy but some questioning quickly sent a lackey in search of it in their receiving area, where 20 copies lay around not being sold, according to their computer. I have to freely admit to not being even a casual gamer, though I'd really enjoyed the look and feel of these games when watching others play them, and with my interest in horror had to check it out, especialy when the thing debuts about $20 cheaper than the average game for this system.

I played through a few levels, and died many times, but it is a lot of fun, I feel like I'm getting the hang of the controls for the character. There are however a lot of nuances that I don't think I've picked up on yet, as I'm sure the fighting in the game can be smoother than what I'm doing with my lack of skill, as the instruction booklet tells me that you can attack hand to hand when an opponent is stunned, but I've been forced to rely on the gun more often than not.

And since I've not even mastered this game, here's a (Japanese) trailer for another one I'm looking forward to later in the year. I only link to it because it features Engrish, and shows you absolutely nothing about the gameplay, which is pretty amusing when they're calling it a teaser.

Well, it's either amusing or just decidely accurate.

I'm out kids, I need to grab some shut eye before committing to that drive tomorrow.

Be seeing you.

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Tuesday, June 19, 2007

Let Your Fingers Do The Walking

The post title in no way related to the death of the vibrator related in yesterday's post, but in reference to just not having any idea how to attack the post tonight and figuring that the best way out is through, here we go, charging full type ahead and hoping it makes some amount of sense in the end.

The wife ran errands this morning and I worked a lot more on the two projects I want to finish before we head out to Dallas. I listened to a new Pickled Embryo that had a couple of interviews relating to the actual convention we're going to check out, Texas Frightmare Weekend, as well as a new SModcast, and new stuff from the guys at the Dead Lantern Splattercast. While I did all this I was able to finish one of the projects, and I still have about maybe 3 hours worth of work to do on the other one before it'll be done as well.

The wife has made noise about leaving later than we usually do on Thursday, so we aren't in such a rush. That's cool with me, as it could mean that I can drop off the completed work that morning, get paid, deposit that check and then ags up the car and head out of town shortly before noon. This would afford me time to spend with a friend who's in from out of town, who I've referred to in the past as The Lobbyist. The wife wanted to try and spend some time with her as we'll be out of town most of the time that she's here visiting her parents, and by the time we get back she'll be flying back out.

This afternoon we met Anastasia Beaverhouszen and her hubby Kno1, as well as Macguffin to go and take another walkthrough of the house. The Mother In Law met us there, and we did the whole run through again, taking a few pictures of things and looking more in-depth at the rooms. The wife is a bit concerned that the built-in desk areas in the three bedrooms on one side of the house have the look of a dormitory, and what it would take to pull that out and make the rooms more like a normal bedroom. The MIL was generally down on the idea of buying the house in the current market, poo-pooing the whole idea, as well as nit picking at several things that don't amount to a great deal in our opinion. This of course annoyed the wife, as the selling price of the home we're in now will pay about half the cost of the new house, which takes a good deal of the sting out of the larger price tag.

We sent the realtor away with a low-ball offer, though the wife tipped her hand by saying that she's willing to pay the asking price if need be. I know the woman is at least a family acquaintance, so I can only hope that the dollar signs she's seeing are outweighed by the quasi-friendship she and the wife maintain.

But I doubt it.

Macguffin hung out with us afterwards, and even went to dinner with us when we picked up The Lobbyist and grabbed some grub. We played a bit with the Wii afterwards, reflecting on the idea of the new house. Mac split at some point, and we dropped The Lobbyist back at her mom's house, then chilled in the bed for a time and talked at length about options for the new house, what can be done with the bedrooms to take them away from the obvious children's bedrooms that they are right now. It'd definitely be tricky, but I'm sure it could be done.

The selling points of this new house are major and the largest ones are the things that have already been done, and how much doing similar work in this house would cost us, or what kind of hellish contractor nightmare we'd have to deal with while the work is being done.

I'm tired, and I have stuff to finish in the AM, so I'm out kids.

Be seeing you.

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Monday, June 18, 2007

Technical Difficulties

We had two completely different devices crater on us today, both going the way of the dumpster as they were completely FUBAR and completely without hope of salvage. Both items are near and dear to our hearts, and will be missed although we find ourselves with a strange sense of excitement over their eventual replacement.

That said, I will now give you a bit more detail about my day before hitting you with the one-two punch that was the tragic loss we suffered this evening.

I had set the alarm early today, as we are on a timetable this week concerning when I can finish the current projects I'm graphing and turn them in before we drive to Dallas on Thursday to settle into the hotel for Texas Frightmare Weekend. I got a lot of work done today, and in doing so listened to a lot of the stuff on the iPod, including a new Cinemaslave, DVD Weekly Podcast, Night Of The Living Podcast, Mondo Movie, and the latest from Mark Kermode.

The wife spent most of the day with various details relating to the new house option, scheduling another walkthrough for tomorrow, calling friends for said walkthrough to get a few outside ideas about decorating, talking to her insurance people about the ability to insure the new home, getting an idea about settling the loan on this house so she can apply for another one for the new place, etc., etc., etc. She also spent a good part of the day trying to kinda re-organize stuff to make it either easier to move or store away so this house will look decent for potential walkthoughs of our own, though we have discussed having the two houses simultaneously while the new place is readied with any cleaning or repairs before we move in. I personally don't want to find ourselves without a place to stay between the sale of this place and the move in date over there.

We are also speaking as though we actually have this new place locked down, which is a little strange, as we've not even made the offer yet, but the wife thinks if we're willing to give them what they want for their home, and since the realtor isn't showing it to anyone else (it's not even listed), the odds are pretty much in our favor.

But all this talk is about stuff we're gaining, isn't it? I mentioned loss in that first paragraph, didn't I?

Night before last, I went to bed and the wife had left the television in the bedroom on as she fell asleep, so as I was scooting the Yorkie over so I could get into bed, I was surprised to hear the sound drop out during a commercial. I changed to a few different channels and found no sound there either so I decided it must be some cable glitch, turned it off and went to sleep.

Last night, the sound was still out, though everything else was working fine, so I went to unplug things from the back of the armoire the television sits in and everything (TV, DVD player, cable box) blips out of power, and refuses to come back on. It's again late at night, we elect to not dick with it and just go to sleep.

This afternoon, on a break from work, I decided to see what was up with the situation, and since the wife was cleaning in the front bedroom (a project that's needed the attention for quite awhile) I decided to not bother her, and shift the armoire out a bit by myself to see what's up with the electrical situation. I've moved this thing before, when we first set the TV in there to begin with, and again when I replaced the DVD player a year or so ago, so it's not that big of an operation. The tricky part is that the enormous 32 inch Sony is almost as deep as it is wide, which perches it somewhat precariously inside the armoire, which is fine, unless you do something like try to nudge it out from the wall.

That's correct, friends and neighbors, I nudged it slightly, and the feet were apparently set into the carpet deeper than usual, and the entire thing tipped ever so slightly but I was able to react in time to right the armoire.

The television, DVD player and cable box did not fare so well, smashing to the floor with what can only be described as a heart-stopping crash.

The wife runs in, asking if I'm okay, I assure her that I am, and ask if the dog is accounted for, because if she's under the smashed television set at my feet, she's history and I'm probably on my way to a fucking divorce. The dog was thankfully in the other room snooping around to see what the wife was doing, so now I'm just left with this utterly destroyed TV laying facedown in our bedroom like a fat suicide victim.

My only small comfort in this situation is that I truly believe that the sound had crapped out on the TV, so I didn't just carelessly throw a perfectly good television to its death.

We put in a call to our friend Brian to help me move this broken down thing out of the bedroom, as it was a beast to move when it was intact, much less trailing broken glass, and I'm unwilling to brave it alone, and the wife doesn't feel up to the task. Once he comes by, we begin the long journey out a side door and down the alley to the nearest dumpster. It's about fifteen seconds into this project that I realize that my being about a head and a half taller than Brian is forcing me to bend into the most unGodly of question mark shapes to allow for his heigth, so by the time we get this turkey in the dumpster, I feel as though someone has wailed on my middle to lower back with a tire tool, but at least the damned thing's out of the house.

During the cleanup period in the bedroom, the wife's vacuuming away, getting up the remainder of the glass that was too small to just pick up by hand. Once she turns off the Dyson, we hear this weird grinding noise. The wife's nightstand is covered with the contents of her nightsatnd drawers, though why she decided start ging through this specific stuff first with a move in mind is beyond me. Among the items scattered hither and yon on said nightstand is her vibrator.

I must digress for a second here, and relate the story of this item's purchase, because it is quite a convoluted journey for such a simple item. The wife and her friend Morris were in Las Vegas awhile back, when he had the opportunity to go for business. She decided to meet him there, so they could have some sort of last hurrah before she and I were married, so we're talking about a year and a half ago. During that trip, they made a trek to the sex shop, and the wife bought a few items, novelty crap mostly, but also this silver vibrator.

Then she realized that she had only brought carry-on luggage and didn't want to submit to the stigma or whatever of flying it back home with her when she had to undergo the intense bullshit scrutiny of the airport, so Morris, who was checking his baggage, agreed to take it back home with him and then mail it to her from Dallas. This didn't happen for whatever reason, and he eventually drove it back to Midland with him on one of his visits, so it arrived several months late, safe and sound. We were all hanging out over at the Mother In Law's house when he got into town, and then left to go grab some dinner.

We were going about our merry way when the wife suddenly remembers that she left the fucking thing on her mother's kitchen table, which would probably send her into a stroke to find an unannounced silver vibrator just chilling when she walks in from her own errands. We race back across town and get the thing out of there without any issues, but what the fuck were we thinking when we left it there?


This thing is now sitting on the nightstand, grumbling quietly to itself, and the wife mentions that when she moved it earlier it started humming on its own. This surprised me, as I thought the batteries in it were dead, as we'd not even opened the drawer it was in for at least a few months, so she gives it a twist to shut it up and we go about on about our cleaning, eventualy retiring to the living room.

A good hour and a half later, we're watching television and hear the dog whining and carrying on in the bedroom, which concerns me, because I'm afraid we missed a piece of glass or something that she's now eaten or something equally stupid, so when I investigate, I'm relieved to find her growling at the damned vibrator, which is again grumbling on the nightstand. I begin to fear horny poltergiests messing with things, and try to turn it off, which doesn't slow it down at all. I instead decide to remove the batteries I thought were dead for several months now, only to have the damned thing spatter battery acid on me when I remove the end of it. The previously dead, now completely bad batteries had somehow kickstarted the stupid thing in its state of disuse.

We tossed that thing out as well, which was thankfully much easier on my back. I washed my hands several times, as the stinging was beginning to bug me, I'd never really experienced battery acid before, and I have to say thank God we found out this thing was ruined under these circumstances rather than while drunk in the dark one night.

Because holy shit.

Be seeing you.

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