Time for some bitching
I hated the new look blog. Hated it so much that I couldn't post while I still had it up. So now we're back to the same boring template, and that's just fine with me. I did lose my counter, and I will never figure out how to get it back, so for now I will just have to hope people visit my blog without me seeing the stats.
Stats are what it is all about, of course. Just ask Jose Canseco. He took the juice, hit the home runs, and now is running out like a baby trying to sell his book. Its pathetic. Too bad he couldn't go quietly like Lyle Alzado. Not that Alzedo went all that quietly. I still remember his picture on the cover of Sports Illustrated talking about his drug use.
Of course, the one sport you don't have to worry about drug use is Hockey. No steroids there. Or goals. Or assists. Or a brilliant save on a two on one breakaway with 49 seconds to go.
I did have a good time went the Wife and Kids went. Not that I did anything fun. It was just nice not to be responsible for anything or anyone other than myself.
Check that. I was supposed to bring the Wife's clothes to the dry cleaner. And bring her oversue books back to the library. Chalk those up to things neglected.
I have also been neglecting my application to Wayne State's business program. I don't know if grad school is really the right place for me right now. It seems like it is just another way to put things on hold for a few years.
One of my clients finally took his project off hold, and the result is a stunning brochure that will be going out with a credit card-type piece. The brochure looks amazing. The Credit Card is still with the printer. If only my client had brought his deposit check on time, the credit card would be done too, I would have my money, and I wouldn't have to think about him until next year.
Unless he needed some other project that should take three weeks to complete that he wants to drag out for four months. Then he could call me back next week and we would get it done.
That's not all that's done. I am too.
Then again, no I'm not. I always hated when people say they are done, and keep on writing. Why not just erase the line that says I'm done, and continue from there.
Truth is, I could, but I had a good transition line from the previous paragraph, so I'm gonna keep it the way it is.
The weather couldn't stay the way it was. A great snow storm blew through her on Sunday, right on time for my great-Uncle Bernard's funeral. I don't usually speak ill of the dead, although I do make fun of them, but this guy was something. I haven't seen him in about 20 years. He, his wife and both his kids moved from here to warmer climates. They all lived in Florida. So why did he want to be shipped back to Michigan for his funeral. It would have freed up my Sunday if he had just been buried down there.
I do have to say that the graveside service, performed in blizzard conditions, was extremely picturesque. i wanted to bring a camera and start taking some pictures, but I did not want to be remembered as the shmuck who started taking pictures at his late great uncles funeral.
So the pictures live on in my head, and so does this post.
Goodnight.
Stats are what it is all about, of course. Just ask Jose Canseco. He took the juice, hit the home runs, and now is running out like a baby trying to sell his book. Its pathetic. Too bad he couldn't go quietly like Lyle Alzado. Not that Alzedo went all that quietly. I still remember his picture on the cover of Sports Illustrated talking about his drug use.
Of course, the one sport you don't have to worry about drug use is Hockey. No steroids there. Or goals. Or assists. Or a brilliant save on a two on one breakaway with 49 seconds to go.
I did have a good time went the Wife and Kids went. Not that I did anything fun. It was just nice not to be responsible for anything or anyone other than myself.
Check that. I was supposed to bring the Wife's clothes to the dry cleaner. And bring her oversue books back to the library. Chalk those up to things neglected.
I have also been neglecting my application to Wayne State's business program. I don't know if grad school is really the right place for me right now. It seems like it is just another way to put things on hold for a few years.
One of my clients finally took his project off hold, and the result is a stunning brochure that will be going out with a credit card-type piece. The brochure looks amazing. The Credit Card is still with the printer. If only my client had brought his deposit check on time, the credit card would be done too, I would have my money, and I wouldn't have to think about him until next year.
Unless he needed some other project that should take three weeks to complete that he wants to drag out for four months. Then he could call me back next week and we would get it done.
That's not all that's done. I am too.
Then again, no I'm not. I always hated when people say they are done, and keep on writing. Why not just erase the line that says I'm done, and continue from there.
Truth is, I could, but I had a good transition line from the previous paragraph, so I'm gonna keep it the way it is.
The weather couldn't stay the way it was. A great snow storm blew through her on Sunday, right on time for my great-Uncle Bernard's funeral. I don't usually speak ill of the dead, although I do make fun of them, but this guy was something. I haven't seen him in about 20 years. He, his wife and both his kids moved from here to warmer climates. They all lived in Florida. So why did he want to be shipped back to Michigan for his funeral. It would have freed up my Sunday if he had just been buried down there.
I do have to say that the graveside service, performed in blizzard conditions, was extremely picturesque. i wanted to bring a camera and start taking some pictures, but I did not want to be remembered as the shmuck who started taking pictures at his late great uncles funeral.
So the pictures live on in my head, and so does this post.
Goodnight.
posted by Air Time at 11:57 PM
4 Comments:
while you are not the schmuck who took pictures at great-uncle bernard's funeral, I'M the schmuck who couldn't stop laughing at my uncle irwin's funeral.
It was in this obscure jewish chapel somewhere on long island and hanging from the ceiling was this lovely memorial light that look about as phallic as can be.
I don't do well at funerals as it is, something a shrink would describe as misplaced emotion and other wacky boundary issues. so i look up, my eyes lock on the twenty foot long unintentional-phallus, and I involuntarily begin to giggle.
My brother-in-law never helps. He start to chortle, and al of a sudden, where I'm goin' there's no turning back.
Full power belly laughs, which I desperately try to swallow. For that four of so minutes of uncontrollable, silent laughter I have to be thankful I didn't induce an aneurism.
It gets worse. We head to the cemetery where aunt evelyn asks the guest mourners to join hands in a circle around the grave to show our unity in loving uncle irwin.
It all just too too much for me. I literally collapse in laughter into a nearby bush, staying in the bush until I can control myself; about ten or so minutes.
I emerge after uncle-irwin is buried and i'm avoiding the weird looks I'm getting from my fellow mourners.
Don't they know we all react to grief in different ways.
My internet was down for a while, so my blogging and responding was a little slow, but I'm back now, and hopefully for good. Sorry I couldn't be there for the funeral...not because of my great uncle, more because I expect we put the fun in funeral as we always do and I hate missing family parties.
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As the rabbi in charleston said "Everyone has to mourn in their own way"
Some people mourn by laughing at giant dildos, while others feel the need to take pictures of picturesque funeral scenes.
My favorite was when uncle ben took the three stones someone put on his father's headstone and threw them into his mothers grave and said, "here's one for each of your boys, mom"
I'm sorry I missed uncle bernards funeral.
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