What happened today that neither pissed you off nor made you happy but is nevertheless noteworthy?



I was sitting on the loo earlier when I caught site of my reflection in the glass of the shower cubicle. At that moment I had a sudden moment of clarity about all you freaks, the sudden realisation that you are all flesh and blood human beings going about your humanly business, and not just words on a screen. It was most unsettling.
A firewood company I've never used before shows up this afternoon with a full cord, allegedly seasoned, for $220. A true cord, maybe a little over. Helping the driver empty the trailer, I realize that only about 1/3 of the wood is seasoned. The rest is fresh. Really fresh. Like, won't be ready this year. It's heavy, it's sappy, the bark is still on tight, it's not yet cracking at the edges. Useless. If you throw it in a fire it will sizzle and steam. It may be ready in winter 2015 if I stack it now.

I have words with the delivery driver about the quality of two-thirds of the wood. Not angry words. Just words. The driver says they just hired new guys, and apologizes. He calls his boss and hands me the phone.

I have words with his boss. Not angry words. Just words.

His boss apologizes for the mistake, says there are new guys in the yard, and offers me all the wood in the trailer for $140, plus a full cord of seasoned wood delivered tomorrow for an additional $80. Not a promise of a free cord tomorrow if I pay him for this one. Big difference.

If you don't live in a climate where firewood is a staple, you may not understand the value of this. If you, like me, heat with wood six months out of the year, then you understand that firewood guys are shady and notoriously crooked. Finding one who actually tries to make things right is like finding Bigfoot.

I'm not happy; I'm not unhappy. I'm surprised.

If he comes through with quality wood tomorrow, I'll be happy.
I had a duel with a squirrel today. He came across me on the road. I slowed down. He stared me down, I almost stopped. He turned and ran back, then changed his mind and went back across me, I had to stand on the brakes.

Little fucker bested me.
I don't know of anyone on this side of Washington state who has air conditioning or central heating; certainly not out here on the Sound. The temperatures are so mild all year -- it rarely freezes, rarely snows, and only in the past few years has it begun to stay above 90 for more than a day or two in the summer; most of the year it's around 50F and raining like a Tim Burton movie -- that we either make a fire or open a window. Problem solved.

There's something comforting and awesome about a fire crackling in a woodstove when it's raining like the end of the world outside. A good book, a glass of rye, my armchair. Frankly, I can't wait for winter.
I couldn't agree more. Real fireplaces are the best. I wouldn't want a house without one.
This is happening right now. And heading north, about to bitchslap my house.


It's only about 65F outside, though. So, huge rainstorm blattering against the house and growing louder but no crackling fire.
this morning I cut my finger while slicing a piece of bread. saw a couple of drips of blood on the bread, but I still ate it. didn't see anything wrong with it since it is my blood.

Next time serve it to someone else and report back.
The people in the flat underneath me always have the most delicious smelling dinners. It makes me happy for them and unhappy for me, hence posting in this thread.
Watching a marathon of Parks & Recreation. Don't like it but don't really hate it. Not sure what to think about it.
That Rob Lowe character and that Ben douche are why you don't like it, whereas Ron Swanson, Tom Haverford and uh the chick that's not Rashida Jones....with the dark hair...I should look her name up, they're great. IMHO.
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AR?HASDGAFJSDF Baby Doom has stolen my shoe horn for the eleventy-billionth time. On the one hand I'm kinda proud of her for following in the family trade (HEY PETTY THEFT IS A START) but on the other hand I'm forced to wear slippers as I plot my world takeover schemes. Goddamn slippers!! I'm not Hugh Hefner here, I have an empire to conquer, people to subjugate, stuff like that.
That's the one thing I regret about my current home - no fireplace.
Doom HQ has a fireplace but we probably try a bit too hard to be festive and use it more than twice a year. 62F isn't really 'hey let's light a fire weather'.

besides we have this palm tree just north of the chimney, and when the cold air blows in from the north the turbulence pushes the smoke back down the chimney and sets off the smoke detectors through the house and then Baby Doom cries for the next 30 minutes and the more I think about it, fuck winter.
That Rob Lowe character and that Ben douche are why you don't like it, whereas Ron Swanson, Tom Haverford and uh the chick that's not Rashida Jones....with the dark hair...I should look her name up, they're great. IMHO.

My mental image of Harveybirdman is equal parts Ron Swanson and Saul Goodman.
Other mental images -

Neo: 10% Dougie Howser, 90% Emma Watson whist in a tearful rage (rather disturbing that one)
A Canuker: 100% William H Macy
Manton: J.K Simmons as exasperated CIA man in "Burn After Reading":
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so for the last 10 years I've been waking up at 4 a.m. for various reasons. now I have no reason to wake up at 4, but continue to do so, well before the alarm goes off. the upside is that I'm up to date on the housework. even the socks are paired and folded
I was thinking of Ali G today. I lol'd in a meeting. He interviewed an ATF guy, asked him what ATF stands for, the guy said "alcohol, tobacco and firearms" and Ali G said "Ya, so what else you sell?". That show...
When I lived in FL I used to go somewhere, anywhere, at least once each winter to see snow. I'd watch the weather, then jump on a plane. Didn't really care where I was going--just about any place was better than the FL shithole.
What part of the shithole were you in?
I heard on the radio that Outkast's "Hey Yeah" was #1 on the charts ten years ago today. Ten years, already? It doesn't feel like it.
I'm going to my first same sex wedding in one hour. Well, it's not MY same sex wedding. I'm just a guest. Reception at a steak house. Should be interesting, but I'm not sure what to expect.
Please report back
I am reading a comic book by a guy named Bob Fingerman. I don't know why this actually IS noteworthy, but I feel like it should be for some reason.
Growing up in New Jersey, I'd run into people from middle America that would ask if you'd been to the ocean and New York City. The real answer was "yeah, it's under an hour away, what's the big deal?" but one had to appreciate that it was a big deal for them.
Similarly, every college kid had this desire to go on an epic cross-country road trip. Having been subjected to National Lampoon-style car vacations as a child, I had less than zero interest in such a thing.
I read Harvey's liver & onions post and had a very strange 6th degree of separation flashback to a Morrison's in Miami. Apparently the two are linked in my mind somehow.

Anyone remember Morrison's?
Woke up in a ridiculous amount of pain had coffee took some Advil showered and am off to boot camp In 30 minutes.

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