two dolla

whoolio?

You know how I can tell it’s a rough start to my Twins’ baseball season? I look to see what the score is, and is and find out some homeboy named Julio DePaula is starting against Cleveland tomorrow night. I mean, a lump of shit gives me more hope than Sidney Ponson, so I can see why they sent him far, far away from the starting rotation.

DePaula is 2-3 with a 3.15 ERA and two saves in 15 appearances for the Red Wings this season, according to the Red Wings website… Hey, that’s a better ERA than any one of the Twins’ starters and his record fits right into the middle of them all, so why not?

Make us proud, Julio, and earn that starting spot, son. It’s probably yours to lose at this point.

Edited to add: Looks like Santana has the starting nod today, but that’s not what twinsbaseball.com said last night. Liars.

denied

In the mail today was a letter from my car insurance company telling me that they’d no longer be paying any of my medical bills related to the back injuries I sustained in my car accident last year. The report from the doctor is the biggest load of shit I’ve ever read in my life. In short, everything that I complained of being injured when Smashy McSmasherton rear-ended me all happened to be pre-existing conditions, according to him. It even, in fact, state that I specifically denied back pain the day of the accident. That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard in my life.

I’ve read it through twice and I alternate between wanting to kick a doctor in the nutsack and laughing because the entire thing is so preposterous. I’m glad my chiropractor warned me in advance that this letter would be coming, and he almost quoted it word for word.

According to the doctor my insurance company hired, six weeks after the accident, I was perfectly a-okay. Any type of medical treatment I’ve received since then has not been necessary. Nice of you folks to think about this four and a half months after the fact, ya dicknoses.
Now if you’ll go excuse me, I have some pre-pubescent children hassling my dog and I need to find something to throw at them.

ai: 3 singers, 3 songs

The show’s down to the final three, which means tonight we get to hear three songs from each of the three finalists. And, since I’m watching it way after it was one, I don’t get to vote. I’m not happy about that!

The first round features songs the judges have picked for the contestants, the second round songs were chosen by the producers, and the singers themselves picked the last song.

More »

still not cookin’

I always have good intentions of cooking my own food. I can whip up something for a pot luck or fry some eggs for breakfast, but I have these glorious delusions of grandeur that I’ll put together a nice little meal for myself and maybe one day actually eat at my dining room table.

Sure, sure, the internet is full of free recipes, but sometimes those recipes are about forty-five million steps above my head. I mean, I don’t know how to do a whole heck of a lot in the kitchen, and often find myself full of pride if I can make some Chef Boyardee without burning it to the bottom of the pan.

One day, even if I have to write/build the damn thing myself, there’s going to be a website or a book geared directly towards single folk that are somewhat frightened of kitchen appliances. I just need a good name for it.

a satisfied customer for now

Last month, while at the beauty parlor, my dog was injured in the form of a two inch gash on his thigh/knee. I had major hesitations in taking him back to the same grooming salon, which is not-so-conveniently located in the dumbest, more shitty store in the world – Petsmart. The main reason I did want to take him back? Every other time he’s been bathed and groomed there, it’s been wonderful. They all love him and he always smells great and looks great when I pick him up. Most of all? He really loves going.

I called this morning to talk to them, explain what happened last time, and see how I felt after that conversation. And really, his mouth smells like he may have eaten something dead and some shit, only I know he didn’t, so clearly it’s time for that breath-freshening spray they give him. I felt so-so after I talked to them, but made an appointment for 11 a.m. anyway.

When I got there, the manager was ready to greet me at the door, and that’s when I realized that my favorite groomer of all time also happens to be the manager. Long story short, she apologized profusely. I reassured her that I wasn’t mad, just concerned, and that I trusted anyone else there with Riley, with the exception of the girl who took care of him last time. And the result? His grooming today is free. I’m going to once again insist that I pay for it when I pick him up, because I don’t feel right having them do it for free. The manager thanked me for bringing him back and I could still here everyone making baby-noises to him when I left, so I do feel a lot better about taking him there. As long as he’s not wounded when I pick him up.

I still need to formulate my strongly worded letter to Petsmart explaining that while their store is a giant turd and their employees are as friendly as a pack of rabid wolves, I still go back there because of the phenomenal service at the grooming salon (aside from last time) and the fact that Riley loves his vet so much, he forgets I’m even in the room. Because, dammit, I hate patronizing a turd of a store like that.

And who know I could get this much satisfaction out of using the word turd? Am I 12? Yes.

let’s just not ask why

But watch this:

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rs61cnX7pvg[/youtube]

That is so not the real Danny Tanner! Apparently, in the pilot episode, John Posey played the role of Danny Tanner, instead of the real one – Bob Saget. Don’t you think John Posey is kicking himself in the ass now!
Consider yourself educated, and you’re welcome!

my second cousin and my great aunt

Tattoo shirt girls

Originally uploaded by Poppymom.

Shamelessly stolen from The Cuz’s Flickr photos, but it’s the next best thing since I wasn’t home for Mother’s Day.

I saw the black t-shirt for Clara Jane while looking for sugar free Kool Aid at the fancy two-story Target downtown. It was in the boys’ department, but since when do boys get to wear the cool shirts?

And my great aunt is also the proud owner of a t-shirt that says Hottie. She apparently thought it said Hattie when she bought it. Her name is Helen. You have no idea how much I aspire to be like her when I’m older.

pay per post thus far

For years and years, I’ve always been pretty skeptical about the whole blog marketing scheme. As far as I’m concerned, that’s what lead to spam comments and trackbacks that are the biggest pain ever, and that’s always left a bad taste in my mouth.

A while back, maybe six months ago, I signed up with PayPerPost just to check things out. I didn’t hop on the bandwagon right away, because I was still leery about forcing people to read stuff they didn’t want to. And really, I’m not sure what made me change my mind. I just know that by writing about things that interest me, I’ve made almost $300.

While there are absolutely frivolous things I could buy with that amount of money, I’ve donated $50 of it so far to The 3 Day. Even though donating more of it will mean I’ll be that much closer to shaving my head, I plan on donating the rest of it, too.

t-mobile and their crappy tiers

Here’s the thing. I’m paying $14.99/month for unlimited text and picture messages. And I use them to the tone of about 1400 messages a month. Yeah, I’m a nerd, but when I’m on the phone all day at work, the last thing I want to do when I get home is talk on the phone.

I’ve been having some text message issues lately. I called T-Mobile Friday night to explain to them that I often have to try resending a message six or seven times before it goes through. Stacy or Tracy or whatever the support person’s name was had me try a few things, and wouldn’t you know it didn’t fix anything? Now I’m supposed to call T-Mobile and I’ll be automatically directed to their TIER 2 technical support.

I’m on the phone with them now, and of course they’re refusing to send me through to the extra special Tier 2 support until we go through absolutely everything I went through Friday night. It does give me great pleasure to be able to guide this bozo through the information that I know he’s going to ask from me. When he finally transferred me to the special land of Tier 2, there was so much static on the line that I couldn’t hear the operator. First, she tried shouting, because that always makes static go away. And then? She hung up on me. HUNG UP ON ME. So, now I’m calling again.

I called back. And I’ll limit my bashing of T-Mobile by saying apparently my phone has water damage and apparently that means it’s out of warranty. I may or may not have dropped it in a sink a couple of weeks ago, while doing dishes.

It’s phone shopping time.

it started off all grown-up-like

My weekend started out responsible enough. Friday night, I took Riley to the dog park and then went textile shopping at IKEA. I keep laughing about shopping for textiles, but that’s what I did! I also bought some supplies for a BBQ on Saturday, including a cooler that I’d been needing forever. My only frivolous purchase was another PlayStation 2. Mine bit the dust a few months ago and my Work BFF™’s BFF isn’t sure if he can fix it, so I just ponied up the cash for a new one. It’s still in the box.

Saturday, the wholesome grown up behavior continued with a trip to meet up with some folks from LiveJournal at Minnehaha Park for the OMGWTFBBQ. It was a gorgeous day with fun people, good food, and a spoiled rotten puppy.

Once it got dark, I went to go pick up Cindi. We had dinner at Big 10, which we’re adding to our list of regular haunts, and had the most adorable server in all of the land, named Nik. I totally hopes he googles himself and sees what we almost left him as a tip. We had two subs, a basket of fries, two Amaretto Sours and two Vodka lemonades – for $21. It felt right to tip him over 30%!

Jack Brass Band was on stage at 10:30 at The Cabooze, which is where we headed next. We stepped over into another bar called The Joint so Cindi could smoke. While she was smoking, we decided it’d be a good idea to switch shoes. While in the process, we got in trouble for taking our shoes off by the bouncer. After the JBB was finished, I bought my buddy/co-worker the traditional post-gig shot – dude wanted a Scooby Snack; he got a Red Headed Slut – and then Cindi and I battled with a decision to either head to the 90′s or Pi. I’m not sure how or why, but PI won the argument.

At Pi, Cindi and I saw like 5 billion people we knew. I may have gotten accidentally punched in the shoulder by a Lynx player, and I left Cindi alone for 10 minutes and sure enough, she finds the only gay boys in the whole bar.

In one particular conversation, I found out some good news about my hopeful future of head-shaving. I was talking about my lofty fundraising goal and the results of what would happen if I hit it, and a girl let me know that in probably a month after shaving it, I can have a faux-hawk. HELL YES. Now get to donatin’!

I went outside with Cindi for some fresh air and I’d forgotten my bottle of water was securely shoved in my back pocket. There’s a rule at Pi that says you can’t bring your drinks outside (water included apparently), so for the second time that night, Cindi and/or I had done something that required the attention of a bouncer. My water was confiscated and I had to ask another more-tattooed bouncer for it when we went back inside.

Switching shoes and drinking water. That’s how wild and crazy we are.

We had to cap off the night with a tradition we hadn’t visited in quite a while. Cheeseburgers at Santana Foods. We were excited to see they’ve remodeled and now have a much larger patio for middle of the night binge eating!

I’m glad I’ll be at the Twins game tonight, because it’d be hard to sit around doing nothing after such an action-packed Saturday. Never mind the two naps I’ve already today.