two dolla

no bassy and no mad dog

I’m pretty much abusing my Netflix membership right now, since I don’t have much else to do during the day. A couple of days ago, I watched Through the Fire, which is a documentary following the high school basketball career of Sebastian Telfair. It was an ESPN-produced documentary, so of course, I loved it a lot. And I was super jacked up when Suzi let me know she had a couple of ticket to the Timberwolves/Pacers preseason game tonight that were just sitting around doing nothing.

Oh, Sebastian Telfair, why did you ride the bench the whole night? After watching an hour and a half of you, I was super excited to see you plan in person, especially since I had completely awesome seats. (Okay, apparently he re-aggravated his ankle.)
And Mark Madsen, where were you, fella? I was hoping we could meet after the game and talk about blogging. (Oh, right. Injured, too.)

I took some pictures, but mainly just had fun watching how quick the MNBA is compared to the WNBA.  I’m pretty sure Darren Sharper came in for a couple of quarters, but I only knew it was him from the 9 year old that was two rows behind me screaming “DARREN SHARPER!!!!!!!!!1111111one” for a good half a quarter. And also, he just sauntered in, sat down in the front row, and didn’t even ask if it was someone else’s seat. It totally was, so having these for fancy pants business man asking an NFL safety to scooch down a few seats was pretty hilarious.

All in all? A very awesome time. Thanks a bunch, Suzi!!

i’m not gonna write you a love song

Found out today that one of my former Work Boys™ had a visit with HR today that resulted in us probably running into each other in the unemployment line sometime in the near future. My former Work Boys™ are this group of dudes that all kind of remind me of an older brother that I never wanted, but just kinda ended up with. They’re all really good guys and when I hear something like this happens, it makes my blood completely boil. This particular Work Boy™ was fired of an absolutely stupid reason that makes things reek of “hey, let’s get rid of people for no reason!”.

It sucks not being employed, it sucks not having my regular paycheck, and it sucks not being around people every day. I have to forcibly make myself do something every day other than sit in front of the computer applying for jobs or in front of the TV watching the Tyra Banks show (I actually haven’t done that yet). I know what depression’s like and know that not having a job could quite possibly send me teetering onto that line once again. But you know what?

I’d rather be laying in the corner in the fetal position, sharing a packet of Ramen noodles with my dog then working for the shit-for-brains operation they have going on at my former employer. I could not have been boosted out of there at a better time. Had I been employed there today, I would have gotten fired over my Work Boy™ getting kicked out the door.

Now, I should probably start password-protecting this type of thing while I’m looking for a new job, because this kind of makes me sound, well, crazy.

And, you know, there’s some other stuff I wanna write about that might not be everyone-in-the-world-appropriate. What’s the bestest way to go about handing out this password? Should I email everyone I like? Should I make all you folks email me for it? I’ve never been all secretive and shit!

day 10 of unemployment

365.8 Originally uploaded by twodolla

I’m bored. Seriously bored.

Kid Rock got into a fight at a Waffle House and Dumbledore is gay. I don’t know what else could happen to make this weekend anymore awesome in the media’s eyes.

I only put pants on tonight because I had to take Riley outside.

My fantasy football teams pretty much all sucked this week, and I have a chance of winning in only one league at this point. Results to be determined after tomorrow night’s game, of course. I’d picked the Jets and Houston to win this week in the ol’ pick ‘em league, and would have pulled off a huge upset if we wouldn’t have counted the last few minutes of each game.

Tomorrow, which is also The Cuz‘s birthday, features lunch with some former co-workers. And I just signed up for NaBloPoMo, which means after October’s done, I’m gonna post every day in November, too. It’s two lucky months in a row for you!

(And, finally? Go Red Sox.)

a success as predicted

The 612 Party was last night, and, as always, it was awesome. We had a crazy turnout, which is what we always hope for.

Some of the people in Cindi’s building ended up coming down for a while, the majority of which were pretty awesome. The rest were the people that live just down the hall from her and seem to haven’t cleaned out their cat’s litter box since 1988, which is probably about the same year they were born. And I finally talked to Cin’s neighbor that I thought I knew, but was too big of a nerd to just say something. And of course I knew her, and of course it’s cool now.

People from various internets outlets made an appearance, which was awesome. I was reading the entire internets today and wound up reading some people bitching about how there was too much booze or how there were too many people. Dude, really? Nobody forced your ungrateful asses to walk in the door and get (free) drinks or (free) food, or sit and listen to music or karaoke, or dance or do anything that people like doing for fun. I’m pretty irritated by it, but at least I’m certain they won’t show up at any future 612 Parties, and that’s alright with me.

A couple of my old co-workers came and that was awesome, because they are two of the people that I’ll definitely miss by not being there. And I got to hang out with some people that I don’t get to hang out with as often as I’d like.

We have enough leftover booze in the liquor closet (yes, we have a whole closet), that I could probably fill my gas tank four times. You know what that means, right? Another party.

a bar sink would be awesome

Tonight’s our bi-annual party of extreme awesomeness that you should all be coming to. Distance isn’t a factor. Just get in the car NOW and you can make it in plenty of time! Even Riley’s going to sort of be there!

Our bartender (Matt) does a spectacular job, considering he’s really just working behind an old piece of furniture that may have one time been chock full of Precious Moments figurines. With the amount of booze he serves up in a very limited amount of time, he does an awesome job. I’ve decided that as soon as we have our own building with our own party room, we’re gonna need not one, but multiple bar sinks.

And while we’re at it, we could also use a cleaning person (or people), a valet parker, a bouncer (mainly just for looks), and a couple of servers, too. I don’t think that’s too much to ask. But for some reason, the bar sink idea seems like the most feasible one. At least for now!

wendy los crankypants

For fuck’s sake. If I have to read one more person bitching about the weather in Minneapolis and the surrounding area, I might go just a little bit more insane.

IT IS RAINING. SO WHAT. It’s been raining for weeks now. SO WHAT. I’m planning on bitching about the three days of sun that are in the forecast for this weekend and early next week. Why? Because it’s just as appropriate as people bitching about the rain. If you don’t like the weather, here are your options:

1. Move.
2. Shut up and get over it.
3. Wait and bitch when we get real shitty weather like -9065406540 degrees and 2089 feet of snow. That’s justifiable.

But you want rain? You got it. Here are some pictures of a flooded Target parking lot in Duluth. Now THEY can bitch.

I get it, okay? Complain once about the amount of rain or the lack of sunlight. Your point has been heard, and I’m sure Mother Nature took it into consideration. But if you keep complaining about the same thing over and over? DOESN’T MAKE IT BETTER, NOW, DOES IT?

(Maybe I’m cranky because it’s 3:15 and I’m not sleepy yet, but you know what? I’m allowed to be cranky. I don’t have a job. What else am I supposed to do with my free time?)

a lot of nothing

I’m using my crockpot right now and making grown up things like White Chicken Chili, thanks to Melissa’s recipe. I figure making something that my grandma would eat makes up for the fact that I spent the morning making my party specialty – JELLO SHOT SALAD, which has somehow become a staple of any good party.

For those curious, Hawaiian Punch + strawberry vodka does in fact equal CRAZY DELICIOUS.

Tonight is dinner with my adopted family, drinks with our friend Lyle, and prepping the party room for tomorrow night’s 612 Party. You should really come.

he’d probably do anything for a klondike

Kanye West is kinda my favorite right now, so it’s only right that I read his blog. Dude posts a lot for being at every fashion show in the world and doin’ everything that Kan like all the time. That’s why I can’t take credit for finding this awesome commercial, because he posted about it today.

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f6WQLvRvtjs[/youtube]

Really, you’re not going to appreciate it so much if you aren’t a Michael Jordan fan (and you’re probably dead to me if you’re not), but you should watch it anyway.

Because Kanye West told you to.

best interview all day

My phone just rang, and the only reason I answered it is because I thought it was one of my former Work Boys™, because he’s threatened to call me every day when he gets off work until I answer the phone. This number had also called my phone five times in the last 24 hours.

Turns out it wasn’t one of my former Work Boys™, but someone asking me if I was ready to make some money. I said, SURE! because, well, I’m unemployed and am not too far above taking any job right now. But then I had to ask who it was, and as it turns out, it was Chad, and was actually looking for Jenni. Listen, Jenni, I TOLD you I was not going to be your pimp go-between ANY LONGER.

We abruptly ended our phone interview (ha) when I told him I was not Jenni.

bootylicious military clothing

As a preface to the rest of this post, I apologize for the amount of time I will be spending on the internets until I find a job. I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to do with my time. Having said that…

According to Elle magazine, do you know what can make your flat butt look bigger? Buy some military clothing. I always knew there was something about boys in BDUs when I dated the entire Air Force during my early 20s. Apparently military-style pants are made with a “double seat” design that, well, boost the badonkadonk. (Don’t worry. I looked that up on Urban Dictionary and it’s spelled right.)

(Also, that’s totally a picture of my butt.)