furtive explorations

Just so you can be assured this is entirely true, I stole one to leave around the living room for people to view. In more than one hotel I found ashtrays with no-smoking symbols on them. Why put two ashtrays in a room marked non-smoking at all? There are stickers and signs everywhere to remind people, already. And what kind of brain is involved in putting no-smoking stickers on the fucking ashtrays?

I suppose I can't complain because the one night I couldn't get a non-smoking room was hellish. By having non-smoking rooms they virtually guarantee that the smoking rooms are in fact so saturated you could hang meat in there to cure.

1. God knows when I'll get laid next, and I'd better not forget what goes where, RNA memory notwithstanding.

2. Those aren't real people, anyway. It's like watching an Arnold Schwarznegger/Plastic Man muscular/bending fest with Barbie Dolls that breathe (and choke and gasp, and...where was I? Oh, yeah...).

3. I've been barraged since birth with cultural programming that my ultimate goal in life is to "score" with some female, preferably one with the aforementioned Barbie build, and that if I fail, I'm just pond scum that can drive a stick shift and act as chauffer for the successful males of the world.

4. The women in pr0n don't send conflicting signals or act coy, so there's this clarity that I find appealing.

5. I'm quite resentful of all the girls in my life who cry on my shoulder about how "bad" their relationships are going, all the "sick, perverted" things their boyfriend makes them do (and damn if they don't go into graphic detail), and then go right back to the fuckhead because they can "change" him.

6. If I'm told one more time "I think of you as a friend", I'm gonna be on CNN and Anthony Hopkins will take one look at the reasons and run screaming into a fucking chipper-shredder rather that play my life in ABC's Movie-of-the-Fucking-Week. Really, I can't think of a way that's more painful to be marginalized by someone than to be called a "friend" in lieu of just saying "I'm sorry, but I'm not attracted to you in the slightest degree." [and a side note, fuck you Deanna]

Geeze, look at me whine...aren't I pathetic. Fuck you too...you're damn lucky that I was programmed by the Southern Baptist machine, or I'd be breaking into the CDC to release bad enough bugs to kill the whole human race. Hooray, for me, the fucking "nice" guy who winds up in better relationships with my date's parents than the date herself. I can't even get the release of a one night stand because I'm terrified that I'll catch something on par with leprosy...with my luck, it'll cause never-ending flatulence as well.

Thank God, fall/winter is here...the weather is beginning to match my mood swings...now where's that Lithium I swiped from the pharmacy counter...

Quick vacation facts:

• Time lapsed: 126hrs.
• Emails awaiting me: 477 (14 spam -- 2.9% ain't bad at all...)
• States travelled through: 5; Ohio, Michigan, Wisconsin, Illinois, Indiana
• Interstates travelled: 10; I-71, I-75, I-94, I-96, I-69 (by mistake, damn signs in Flint), I-43, I-94 (heh, again, not counted twice), I-90, I-88, I-80, I-65.
• Miles travelled: 1900.4 (damn 4 tenths...)
• Pictures taken: 62
• Fudge eaten: 1/4 lbs.

More facts at Great Lakes Vacation...

Oh, and if I was overly effusive about the waitress last night, this gives Leslie a week to get the restraining order before I get back in town and start showing up at her place of work every week. ;} A girl that good looking is probably used to dorks following her around like a puppy tho, and after all she does work at a bar... if she gets sick of me she can start shorting my drinks. =) =)

This whole "Get away from the computer and e-mail" thing had better wind up being relaxing like you all keep saying... right now it is like having my pacifier taken away. I'm ready to start wailing and crying. Worse, since I bounced the handspring off the floor at a resturant and broke it, I'm going out for a week without any serious electronic fetish at all. I gave up the pager at work for the on call people. I'll be girded against the travails of modern life with only a PCS phone between me and eating off the ground and sleeping in caves.

Stevie Ray's here in Louisville is just a rocking place. I can't remember when I went there last but I was just blown away by the place this time. We caught the first set of the second band (The Soulcasters) and were just amazed at how good they were. I just can't say enough about blues so good it runs over you like water. They even dragged Susan O'Neil (from the first act) up to belt out a classic with them -- on her birthday -- which was unexpected. The place mixes all sorts, there were young singles, older couples, just about every brand of weirdo. I felt right at home there.

What made it all the better was the fine waitress we had. A beauty with blue bubble gum named Leslie kept the drinks flowing in the madhouse atmosphere without ever loosing a beat. If you stop in there be nice to her, she has a firm handshake and can likely kick your ass. Smile and tip her proper and the last couple of drinks will burn the hair out of your nose. Hopefully she doesn't think we are complete morons. =)

There really is no better way to start off a vacation than listening to good music, sucking back a crapload of Bacardi and Coke (good idea on the bacardi, Leslie, I owe you one...), and staring at the cuties. This is a place I'll be crawling back to soon. Hell I'm tempted to spend the vacation there...

I slipped Leslie the address to the website. Dunno if she'll visit but if I'm going to wax rhapsodic about my alcohol vendrix I should at least give her the chance to read it, neh? And yeah it is sad to do such a thing but she is waaaay outta my league so she has got to find it charming, right? Or have all those years of watching B-grade movies warped me to the point where I can't tell proto-stalking from whimsical?