rock over London. rock on, Chicago.

tonight, I started bragging about drug use.
oh, for christ’s sake.

my, uh, vacation wasn’t what I expected. I didn’t plan, at all, and it wasn’t what had I hoped. but that’s not to say I didn’t enjoy myself. just, next time, I’m going to be ready; I’m buying a tent.
either way, I’ve taken a couple of photos, which I’d add here, but I can’t find the cord for the camera. who knows where it is, but it’ll turn up. and then, oh boy, will it be exciting.

actually, though, an evening with my brother will be the inspiration for a short story I swear to god I’ll write. just not on here. and it hasn’t been written yet, so no point in talking about it. but I’ll leave it hanging. let the anticipation build. just wait for that afternoon someday when you’ll be able to read about garbage dumping.

also, I’d like to give a shoutout to my man Larry Craig.
to be honest, it’s only scandal. there aren’t going to be many long-term ramifications nationally, beyond whatever subcommittee posts he held in the Senate. but they’ll fill him. he’s not indespensible. Idaho will feel it, I suppose. but they’ll stop talking about it soon. so while he’s here …
goodbye, you piece of shit. Larry Craig has made his fucking name on this kind of stuff. an entire career by taking of advantage of homosexuals for political gain. railing against gay marriages. gays in the military. playing to paranoia and hatred for votes.
and hey, he’s gay himself.
I’m not saying he’s the devil. Larry Craig isn’t evil. he’s just a small man. tiny heart, tiny soul. pathetic isn’t the right word, but I’d call him sad.
he’s a U.S. senator, for the time being. and pretty soon, he’ll be gone. he’ll have no seat on some private defense company’s corporate board. he’ll go back to Boise or wherever the fuck he’s from and live on his government pension. his fifteen minutes are nearly up, and now, he’ll end on the equivalent of a giant, wet fart. Larry Craig: hypocrite.
but it’s not like he’s fallen from grace. he was preaching bullshit to an asshole choir, so he’s getting exactly what’s coming to him. and I hope that he cries whenever he reads his name next to “wide stance” in any print medium.

I’m not at the beach. surprise!
tomorrow, though. no joke. fuck you, I know what you’re thinking.
so instead, I’m flipping around the tube. we’ve got “Countdown with Keith Olbermann” in the 7 pm slot as the national nightly news. to which, I answer, Keith Olbermann is a giant fucking hack.
also, apparently, Chris Collinsworth’s daughter thinks Reggie Bush is hot. wow. NFL gossip.
and, on the other side, we’ve got “Ice Spiders.” it’s about giant bugs, created by the government, that are apparently running amok on a ski slope. and it’s got this dude who is the definition of a D-list actor moving into his late thirties. I think he was the fifth male lead in “Starship Troopers” ten years ago.
it’s like a Mountain Dew commercial with gore. which, perversely, is something I’ve always wanted to see.

and that’s it.
there have been some grade A rainstorms here over the last day or so. i had missed that.

greetings. I am the assassin “Lone Wolf and Cub.”

I’m watching a samurai film. guess what’s called?
“Lone Wolf and Cub.” but I think “Lone Wolf and the motherfucking Cub” would be more appropriate, because this guy is a straight-up stone cold killer. and he does it all with a kid. he pushes a kid around in a cart and works as an samurai for hire, living as a demon so he can avenge his family’s name against the Shadow Yagyu clan. see, these poor bastards made the mistake of stepping to him, and so Lone Wolf and Cub starts chopping heads. he’s got a move called The Suiouryu Wave-Slashing Stroke. and another called The Suiouryu Horse Slaying Technique. these involve a lot of lost limbs and gratuitous blood.

so I’m a day into a five-day vacation. it’s exciting. I baked cookies tonight. I want to go to the beach tomorrow. I’d just like to be there around sundown. so I can just sit. and watch. even though it’s an eastern shoreline.
and yes. it’s as exactly as it sounds.

you know, whenever I go back and read this fucking thing, I always think I sound like a huge asshole.

almost done with the prescription. that’s good. stuff is making me nauseous. and the bump isn’t cancerous, so even if it doesn’t dry up, to hell with it. I’ll just rub some dirt on it.

Warner called for troop withdrawals.
uh ohhhh.
see, this is why, in a roundabout way, I think the Republicans will win next year. there’s complete disconnect in that party from the Administration. it’s obviously his second term, and so that’s obviously to be expected, but nobody’s backing the president. you don’t hear his name anymore. everyone suddenly has acute fucking amnesia, because there were a lot of people who were interested in him a little over two years ago.
well, where are you now?
suddenly, Iraq isn’t anyone’s fault. it’s just there. but it’s definitely not the fault of the Republican party that signed off and promoted all of this bullshit. they’ve moved on. they left Bush on an island like a leper, because he’s expired, and it’s time for a new election. so let’s start talking issues. let’s get down to the meat and bones, Rudolph Guiliani and Mitt Romney and you, shortlist of self-serving, narcissistic bullshit artists. let’s get to the necessities, the pressing matters that America needs to figure out, because we have a lot of questions unanswered …
let’s talk gay marriage and abortion. obviously.

I hold it close to my heart that I didn’t like George Bush well November of 2000.

so I just typed “caribbean editing jobs” into the search engine.
I’m getting nothing.

funeral is tomorrow. here is a bit from Aunt Nettie’s obituary. oh yes. that’s right.

NETTIE KROCHTA “Anastasia” Valparaiso, Indiana Formerly Gary, Indiana Age 94, passed away at home, on Monday, August 20, 2007. She was born on November 26, 1912 in Gary, IN, where she was a lifelong resident until moving to Valparaiso to live with her sister, Mary (grandma), and niece, Valerie (mom). Nettie graduated from Froebel High School and later earned a Licensed Practical Nurse degree and state license after studies at Purdue University. She retired as an LPN from the former Lake County Convalescent Home, and previously served at Hines Veterans Hospital in Chicago. During her lifetime, she was a very active member of Protection of the Virgin Mary Orthodox Church, and was a past Sunday School teacher, Youth Director of the FROC “R Club” and member of the Ladies Sodality. Prior to her years in nursing, she held positions at Bear-Brand Hosiery Co., Kroger Grocers, was a member of the AFL-CIO Ladies Auxiliary and the Salvation Army Auxiliary by assisting with Christmas distribution projects. For many years, Nettie was a world traveler (along with her brother Steve & niece Mary Lynn (my aunt) & family) and also regularly attend the “Taste of Chicago.” She loved to crochet and was a longtime patron of the Chicago Art Institute and Field Museum. She truly will be missed by her family, friends, and all those whose lives she profoundly influenced.

do you think that’s morbid? that’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it? don’t worry, I know.

I bought “at war with the mystics” by the Flaming Lips. it’s OK. never been a huge Flaming Lips person. but they could put together a best-of disc that someday I might buy. if that makes sense.

so false alarm, I’m not going.
I legitimately want to go. for all the bluster, all the ‘oh, it’s so far away and all my relatives are crazy’ bullshit, I want to go.
do I want to pay my last respects to a relative? yes. she was the shit. twenty dollars on my birthday and hard as nails. but also, I like seeing everybody. fuck, funerals are events. like, for instance, my brother called me tonight, late, while I’m waiting for the press to start. and he says, “dude, right now it’s like the 12th inning of game five in the world series. it’s been this way for a while. it’s getting heavy.”
and I know exactly what he means, and I want in.

it’s sad, but you remember these things. I remember them specifically. I remember my grandfather’s funeral. I remember who was there. I remember how fucking cold it was. I remember finding out he died, and I remember the viewing, and the food, and watching “Half Baked” at like 2 in the afternoon with about a dozen relatives in the next room, and carrying the casket to the church on 45th Avenue, and how painfully cold it was, and everyone bawling and writhing because nobody on that side of the family goes quietly in front of the grim face of death, and Bronko’s (right?) chicken in the church hall afterwards. you remember these things.
I remember when my grandmother in Pennsylvania died. I remember finding out about a day earlier and having to catch a flight with Mar at the last second. it was rough. about a week after Thanksgiving. she stayed at my apartment so that we could leave immediately in the morning. she woke up in the middle of the night to find me watching “Roseanne” in my boxers, and she ridiculed me for it. to hell with you, Mar. then there were actually bagpipes at the gravesite. and I drank beer with my cousin Courtney. and hoagies. and sleeping on an air mattress in my grandmother’s empty apartment.
this is the biggest one I’ve missed, I think. but how can you measure these things?

so since I’m not going, I’m turning again to the five days off that are coming up Saturday.
I’ve got no idea what I’m going to do.
really. no idea.
no, that’s not true. I have a couple ideas. but I have no plans. suggestions?
I’ve been thinking the beach. a quiet beach. like a state park. like Assateague.

Aunt Nettie kicked the bucket.
she was cantankerous, and like all of my elder relatives, hilarious. in that farts and ‘living on top of each other’ kind of way. deeply religious, working-class, spinster.
she was one of the nicest people I’ve ever met.

so I’m going home, I think. I’m supposed to work through Friday. so I guess that’s a, a what, a bereavement day? may have to drive. that’d suck. may have to fly. so I’d have to leave the truck at long term parking, unless I can find someone to drive two hours to Richmond to get me.

here it is, the most hilarious at-first-glance headline the nice computer at Yahoo News ever wrote:

Steven Seagal says FBI investigation ruined his career

know what was a nice surprise?
I was driving from work in the ol’ truck, listening to a hardcore rap album for the bajillionth time, and I remembered the book of CDs I dumped behind the seat a couple of months ago. and that I have like the entire Pixies catalog in there. cause the Pixies fuckin’ rule, man. especially the first album. can’t remember what it’s called, but it has “caribou” on it. and “levitate me.” go and find it.

I finally started with the prescription medication. dexylpropamtpelate. I’m almost positive that’s not what it’s called, as I just mashed my hand on the keyboard to describe it, but it’s an antibiotic and I’m supposed to take it for a week. and I’m not supposed to be exposed to prolonged sunlight. so, since I’m supposed to work straight through this Friday, now’d be a good time to take it. hate to have a day off and not be able to go outside.

speaking of which, I drove Skyline Drive in the national park yesterday. which was really, really cool. very quiet and green. and it’s, you know, in the mountains, so it had nice views.
I like Virginia mountains. not very severe.

so since I can’t go outside in the bright, bright, lifegiving sun, I’ve got “Ghostbusters” on. and nodding to that, I think Rick Moranis is one of the funniest people alive. it’s that scene where he’s throwing a party and he only invites his accounting clients so he can write it off as a business expensive. I always thought that was one of the funnier minor details of the movie.
“hey, what happened?”
“some moron brought a cougar to a party and it went berserk.”
ha!

I see everyone’s favorite Professional Liar Tony Snow is stepping down.
it must be real hard to be the press secretary. he was the third one, I think. Ari Fleischer, who was actually pretty good. he could spar. then there was Scott McClellan, who was a fat-headed prick, who couldn’t argue a point to save his life. and then came Tony Snow, a former Fox News journalist. un-fucking-believable.
but it’s hard, man. I hear that. I felt bad for the poor bastard; not only are you working for arguablythe most important political office in the world, Snow pulled for one of the most closed, unpopular, corrupt and vindictive administrations in some time.
I mean, look at the motherfucker. he’s positively gaunt, and has aged like a decade in two years.
so go home, Tony Snow. go home to that giant, garish mansion you built less than a block from the house I grew up in. if we were neighbors, I’d dump trash on your lawn, but still I hope you can regain some of your youth, return some pallor to your face.

Winston: you’re actually going to go in front of a federal judge and say that some moldy babylonian god is going to drop in to Central Park West and start tearing up the city?”
Bill Murray: sumerian, not babylonian.
Aykroyd: yeah, big difference.
hah. money.

so that’s it. that’s saturday at 1:45. ok. let’s right this ship.