not since i was thirteen

volvo, jeep, myself. all at teh local mart. grab some Colt 45s, grab some MD 20/20s, grab some candies. a fellow gentleman shopper approached us and specifically singled out jeep. why we all drinkin' MD? that tastes like kool-aid. volvo, jeep purchase. the gentleman purchases. all leave. i remain. my purchase begins. the gentleman returns. he notes that i too purchase the MD. he notes, and i quote (mostly kinda sorta, more like a quote w/ light paraphrasing) :
"i used to drink that shit when i was thirteen on mondays before school. once i got past thirty i said fuck that shit and now i only smoke weed."
he did, despite the light chastising (not seen such since when the older fellow called taurus and i pussy boys at teh smoke shop) wish me and mine a good evening. as i told him, it was just going to be that kind of night. and that kind of night it was.

In Volvo's Arms, Murder Waits!

I show up and LS400 is already there. Taurus shows later while I was getting huge. A sandwich containing avocado as an ingredient was consumed. We watched pretty animated boobies (DOA, you keep a juvenile part of me alive and I like it). The Volvo came home (it is after all his house and basement). We all observed that he was on edge and quite angry. He had spent cash money on a banjo to delude himself about his problems. While we three attempted to sooth our angry and gigantic friend (because we are after all nice people, very nice people indeed) Volvo espied a mouse. Being the fair weather friend of animals that he is the Volvo attempted relations. Mr. mouse did not wish to be Volvo's friend and scurried off which angered the giant. Volvo snatched the mouse from the ground and crushed it in his gargantuan palm exclaiming, "I hope I see its brains!" Once the poor bastard had the last breath squeezed from his miniature frame the Volvo realized his folly. We three then took him to Safeway in an effort to cheer him via the charm of comfort feeding. This, however, did not satisfy and Taco Bell was struck upon instead. Upon departing from the cozy lair that is Volvo's basement I checked for the mangled form of the mouse which Volvo had so callously dumped in some bushes. It was gone. Miracle of easter, neighbor cats, or return of the raccoons? You decide.

Firing on 7 synapses

Wanna be hippie neighbor w/ the van leaking gas has spent money to improve his ride, however, this money was not to fix the gas leak. No, no. That would be not only ecologically sound, but an exercise in good citizenship. Instead he has bought a diecast "gold" plated license plate holder w/ twin naked ladies. I cannot wait until the next time he parks that turd on level ground (that's when the leak is apparent) again. Totally calling the Fire Department.

Teh old Spring forward

For those of you w/ "smart" devises which automatically set your clock's banter twice yearly please be sure to note that this morn you've not slept in, 9. Rather your devises are not privy to the dealings of DC. Please peep this earl to see the real time as the heavens intended. Too, if you have the unfortunate luck of using Outlook (rated second worst program ever. honors go to PowerPoint) be sure to 2xcheck all your meetings.