I'm the only one in the office, again, today. Just me. . .I've checked my Facebook, LiveJournal and numerous email addresses. I just want to blow outta here, go home, heat up leftover lamb with all the fixin's and pack some more damn boxes. One hour, two minutes to go. . .

If there were a zombie outbreak right now I would be pretty safe for a little while. I'm assuming that the zombies are of the George Romero genre and not the super fast, strong, crazy "28 Days Later" genre. Even though I'm on the ground floor, the windows are nigh unbreakable and even then I have an interior office that I can barricade myself in. Use the file cabinets to climb into the dropped ceiling and crawl carefully down the hallway ceiling to the parking garage. I don't really know if I have access to the a/c ducts but assuming I do, I can drop into the parking garage and make it to my car parked close to the building. Assuming some ass in their Hummer hasn't blocked the entrance/exit to the garage beating a hasty retreat, I bet I could make it all the way home. Our neighborhood would be fairly empty since everyone would be at work or at the pool, so I think I could make it into the house. We've got precut and numbered plywood boards for the hurricane season so I could quickly seal all the downstairs windows using the hurricane clips then bring provisions, ammo, etc., upstairs and start disposing of the undead as they appear.

Yeah, I could do it. Not real sure about the long haul, but if I can survive the first 24 hours I'm sure I could work out additional plans.

Fourty-five minutes and counting!

Hell yes animals have a sense of humor!!! Have you seen some of the people they choose to live with and love?!?!?!

Seth Bullock. Quiet and calm on the outside. . . ready to fuckin' throwdown on the inside.

I've been house hunting for the last three weeks, have basically made an offer per week and still have no house. House #1 was a sure deal until the sellers came back wanting more money and a lease-back through OCTOBER!!!! I walked.

House #2 needed a little TLC and some updating. Termite inspection came back great, structural/mechanical came back money pit. I ran.

House #3 was priced below market. Offered full price, was accepted and found out 24 hours later they couldn't sell because they didn't qualify for their new house. I was out of yet another place, their realtor was out a commission. Disappointed, but no money out of pocket like their realtor.

I'm taking a week off house hunting. Evidently folks here in Houston and the immediate area don't understand that a buyer like me is a rarity. 20% down, no closing fees, ready to close fast. I'm shopping for pool tables this weekend.

I was at Target today wasting time between Drs appointments and decided to browse the book selection. Usual chick lit, self help crap, books about children, love, ponies, various dogs, cats, lions (Christian had two books!), dreck, dreck, dreck. But lo and behold, nestled twixt the flotsam was "Watchmen". Bright yellow smiley with bloody, dripping bullet hole. I already have several copies, one more wouldn't hurt. Waited for the zombies to begin lurching out the aisles, looked for the hounds of hell down the pet food aisle, quickly ran past the toy section in case of demonic playthings. No, nothing happened. The skies are dark and ominous with rain, thunder and lightning fight for supremacy. Just water falling, not fire, brimstone or even frogs. But I'm on the alert. Vigilant. It's coming soon now. Winged pigs taking flight over the frozen landscape of hell. It's coming. I know it is.

Let's see. . .that would be when I was 28. . .newly married, mom just died and dad was about to kick the bucket and we were looking for our first home. Now. . .almost divorced. . .no one's died recently and I'm looking for my first home that's mine, all mine!! I'm excited about the future, happy to be on my own again and really happy that I'm ten years older, wiser and done with all the bullshit.

Wow! It's unreal the amount of crap that two people can accumulate in almost twenty years. We've been dividing up our "assets" and I don't remember buying all this stuff. The house and furniture are easy, it's all the books, CDs, DVDs, collections (Nightmare Before Christmas mainly). And we've made lots of trips to Goodwill with the stuff neither of us wants and there's still just mountains of. . . .stuff! To quote Edina Monsoon from Ab Fab, "I just want clean surfaces!".

Edamame, in my opinion, tastes better reheated the next day. So today whilst munching on 'mame, I browsed the internet and learned:

William F. Buckley, Jr. died. Too bad. I didn't always agree with him, but I loved listening to or reading his views/arguments. He always played devil's advocate even if it meant sometimes going against his staunch opions (not often though). I'll miss the old bastard.

NASA is going to smash two spacecraft into the south pole of the moon to find out if it's made of green cheese, er, water. Not really made of, but if there's water below the surface. I get the scientific reason of why they're doing this, but I wonder what will happen once we get the results. Say the moon has water beneath the surface. Then what? Take a sample and see if there's any signs of past life? Then what? Run a bunch of tests and mathematical equations and speculations and so on and so forth until no real answer is derived? Ahhh, but then the "fringe groups" can start blogging about a government cover-up, aliens really lived on the moon, the Greys are from our neighborhood, the fellows stored in Area 51 created the moon, doomsday is at hand! Excellent, can't wait to see that. Thought I'd have to wait until Dec. 21, 2012. Or was it Sept. something of 2021? Oh well, in the meantime, I'm still preparing for World War Z.

A python in Australia ate a 5 yr old silky terrier/chihuahua mix "right in front of the children!". Parents didn't call the snake authorities when they found the python in the dog's bed a few days before the attack. Tried to chase it away with plastic lawn furniture. 110 lbs (or so) of python versus white PVC. . .gosh, why didn't that work? The authorities came out after the attack and took the python to a local zoo where it's digesting the pooch and will relocate it "in the bush" after it's meal is fully digested.

Well, there ya go. Back to tax returns.

A couple of canine issues in the media have caught my attention recently.

Michael Vick, a no-neck-needle-dick-bug-fucker SOB, pled guilty to killing dogs and funding a dogfighting racket. His mom says he's a good person and just made a mistake. His heart is good and he should be forgiven. Electrocuting, drowning and hanging dogs that were performing poorly are not actions of a "good person". I'm sure Michael Vick is around alot of "good people" in the NFL and those people should live by his example, as he has a good heart and is a good person himself, and electrocute, drown and hang him when he begins performing poorly in his profession. May you rot in the filthiest, darkest hell imaginable you sorry motherfucker!

On a related note...

Hooray for the lady auctioning off doggie damaged Michael Vick trading cards. The winning bid was for $7,400 and she maintains that that money will be donated to the Humane Society. Here's hoping that the bidder was honest and that the IRS will issue her a waiver!

Leona Helmsley, the "Queen of Mean", left $12 MILLION to her beloved maltese Trouble and cut two of her four grandkids out of the will completely. The two who did get the cash each recieve $5M with the proviso that they visit their father's grave once a year. The other two supposedly know why they were left out. The media seems to be in shock that Leona could leave that much cash to her dog and cut out the grandkids. I say good for her! Maybe those little bastards never liked the old lady, bad mouthed their dad/family and didn't deserve a damn thing. But her little puddin' was there by her side 24/7, even starred in a few ads, comforted her when the hubby died. God bless you Leona, Queen of Mean, you reign supreme in my mind!

The Beer Prayer

Our Lager,
Which art in barrels,
Hallowed be thy drink.

Thy will be drunk.
I will be drunk,
At home as in the tavern.

Give us this day our foamy head,
And forgive us our spillages,
As we forgive those who spill
Against us.

And lead us not into incarceration,
But deliver us from hangovers.

For thine is the beer,
The bitter and the lager,
For ever and ever,
Barmen!

Just when you think you know about an ancient culture, you learn something new.

Evidently, in order to be a Spartan (ancient Greek not athletic team) man you must absolutely, positively have a rockin' eight pack.

Yum. . .may the Greek gods bless the Spartan man. . .I'm so going to see that movie again and again and again and again . . .ad nauseum.

Overcast and soon to be rainy outside. . .piles of tax returns on my desk. . .but what's really important is this list of words that I like:

aubergine
chartreuse
emancipated
eccentricities
canine
feline
equine
porcine
miscellaneous
sycophancy
monotony
mindlessness
periphrial synchronicity (always liked these two together)
mendacity
odious

Equestrian order of the Holy Sepulchre of Jerusalem (not really a word, but a really cool name for a charity!)

Oh well. . .back to work.

Most of my friends are bloggers, two in particular tend to blow my mind more than others. Friend one is an atheist. Professess to have no belief in any god-like being in any religion real or imagined. Never went to church during school, believes the bible is just a work of fiction (good storytelling, exciting, a good read). I read her rants and raves against the church, the Pope, other religions, other religious leaders, etc, etc. What blows me away, is how she can condemn God for negative forces in her life. If you don't really believe in something, how can you believe it's affecting your life somehow? She says God has it out for her since she doesn't believe. Why would someone/thing give a shit about someone/thing that doesn't give a shit about them? That's not the point, He's vengeful, she says. Just because you don't believe in him? There's lots of things I know to be utter crap and I assure you that they leave me the fuck alone. I don't necessarily believe in the God we were taught to believe in at school, but I know there's a higher power and I damn sure know that I am too insignificant to cause a blip on their radar.

Friend number two is a born again religious freak. She's given me copies of the "Left Behind" series and the Bible she studies in the hopes that we can understand one another better. She always includes me in her prayers as my soul needs saving from eternal damnation and she also prays that the Lord will one day touch my soul and open my eyes to all His goodness and stuff and things. Whatever, I don't care. I did read the first "Left Behind" book and initially thought it was pretty cool. Everybody's going about their business, driving to work, grocery shopping, going on vacations, etc, etc, when all of a sudden, people just start disappearing. Cars careen out of control all over the place, planes start falling from the sky, surgeons find themselves standing, bloodied, at empty operating tables. Fucking hilarious shit! This woman wakes up on an airplane and puts out her hand to her husband, but he's not there. His clothes are, as are his false teeth, pacemaker and other manmade objects he had on or in him. Anyway, the authors did a really good job at describing the Rapture. And the rest of the book was also very interesting until I got to the end. . .and the authors started writing about the second Rapture and how only the good people who believed in their religion were going to God and the rest of us were "left behind" to fight Satan at the end of days (or something along those lines). I thought that was awfully high and mighty of them, trashing religions that had been around for thousands of years before their upstart prophet came along. And I mentioned that to my friend. And she said, "Yeah, and. . ." So you're a bigot? "No, we are the chosen people and you'd do well to join us." I can't be part of a religion that ostracizes everybody else because of their beliefs. I can't wholly believe in something so much that it obliterates everything and everyone around me. But she insists she's a good person, a Godly person sent by the Father to open the eyes of the blind like me. I don't know anymore. Maybe I am going to Hell. . .

Now I have a headache and I think I've rambled on way toooo much.

I really hate it when Partner #1 wants to start shit with Partner #2 and uses me as the incendiary device.

But I really enjoy the VERY LOUD and sometimes very clever profanity laced verbal barrages they scream at each other after said event.

And it's nowhere near April 15th!!!

1. I've come to realize that my last kiss... was more of a peck as I'm fighting a cold and have taken waaaayyyyyy tooooooo much of this blue cold medicine.

2. I am listening to... Alice In Chains, the yummy click of my keyboard.

3. I want to go to... Colorado, Steamboat Springs in particular.

4. I love... filling this out even though I have a shitload of work to do!! :)

5. My best friend(s)... are few and far between, but what I've got, I'm keepin.

6.My first real kiss... was a long time ago.

7. I hate it when people ask... stupid fucking questions.

8. Love is... found under a thick down comforter, snuggled between two big dogs.

9. Marriage is... a test. . .skipped by some, failed by many, aced by a few.

11. Somewhere, Someone is thinking of... me.

12. I have a crush on... Jack Bauer.

13. My cell phone... stripped me of my last shred of solitude.

14. Right now I am thinking about... how much debauchery and mayhem my girls and I can cause in thirty-six hours in El Paso.

15. Today I... wish I'd stayed home, under the covers, between the pups.

16. Tomorrow it will be... better, but not by much.

17. I really want... to find where I belong, a place I'm comfortable, a hole to call my own.

18.Someone that will most likely repost this is... dude, it's the internet, the possiblities are limitless!

My Dad used to make Brandy Alexanders for me when I was younger. I think my first one was around the age of 10 or 11 and although it was in a smallish glass (in hindsight mind you, when I was little I'm sure I thought it was a "BIG" glass) it was the best alcholic beverage I had ever had. Over the years Dad and I would often enjoy this particular nightcap and even spent a little time and money picking out just the right brandy, creme, etc. It's been a good decade or so since he made one for me and I had one at some bar in Chicago once a few years ago, but it just was not the same.

Today I decided to treat myself to a new steak place for lunch (Perry's) and went whole hog (cow?). Stuffed mushroom appetizer (broiled), 12oz New York Strip (rare/mooing) and a look at the dessert menu. As nothing seemed to really tempt me I took a look at the drinks menu and lo and behold. . .Brandy Alexander! Yes, I did have to go back to work, but I had stuffed mushrooms and a big ole hunk of beef to complement the alcohol and, after all, how big could this drink really be and how much liqour were they REALLY going to use? So I ordered. . .and Mike the waiter brought me a HUGE brandy snifter. . .containing brandy, creme de cacao and blended with vanilla ice cream. I think the vanilla ice cream was really added as an afterthought as the brandy was most definitely in evidence! About halfway through this monstrosity I realized I had to drive back to work somehow and contemplated just leaving the damn thing only half drunk. Nah! What the fuck! It's not like I have clients to see this afternoon, all the partner's are out leaving me in charge (HAH!), so why not finish this bad boy?!?!?!?

Now I don't usually take real long lunches. Usually an hour max, sometimes two when I've got a client meeting. Today, was a long lunch. A really long lunch. Way too long. Like three hours too long. But so very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very worth it! This one is for you Dad. I miss you lots, this drink didn't begin to measure up to our little cocktails, but it sure brought back some most excellent memories! Love you lots!

Today I'm thankful for Eartha Kitt with Henri Rene and his orchestra.

Santa Baby,
Just slip a sable under the tree
For me
Been an awful good girl
Santa Baby,
So hurry down the chimney tonight

Santa baby,
A '54 convertible too
Light blue
I'll wait up for you, dear
Santa baby,
So hurry down the chimney tonight

Think of all the fun I've missed
Think of all the fellas that I haven't kissed
Next year I could be just as good
If you'll check off my Christmas list

Santa Baby,
I want a yacht and really that's not
A lot
Been an angel all year
Santa Baby,
So hurry down the chimney tonight

Santa honey,
One little thing I really need
The deed
To a platinum mine
Santa Baby,
So hurry down the chimney tonight

Santa cutie,
And fill my stocking with a duplex
And checks
Sign your 'x' on the line
Santa baby,
So hurry down the chimney tonight

Come and trim my Christmas tree
With some decorations bought at Tiffany's
I really do believe in you
Lets see if you believe in me

Santa Baby,
Forgot to mention one little thing
A ring
I don't mean on the phone
Santa Baby,
So hurry down the chimney tonight
Hurry down the chimney tonight
Hurry...tonight

Beauty is a relative thing. "Beauty is only skin deep", it's what's inside that really matters. There's a mathematic formula that has supposedly been used throughout history that you can apply to women's (I don't know about men) faces and if they measure up correctly, prove that they are beautiful (and symmetrical as well, I think). I saw an ad the other day for "Dove" soap bars and it had a plain jane kinda chick sitting down for a commercial. She was made up, had her hair done and then the computers took over and elongated her face, thinned out her neck, "fixed" her shoulders, did a little highlighting here and there, widened her eyes, lengthened/straightened her nose and did a few other touchups.

My comment,

"Beauty is only pixel deep".

There's a tax deadline on Monday. . .a never ending supply of tax returns clutter my usually immaculate desk. . .I find that often I haven't enough time to eat. . .but I'm really not that hungry. . .maybe it's the eight-ish cups of coffee a day. . .sometimes just four venti vanilla lattes a day will do it too.

JAVAJAVAJAVAJAVAJAVAJAVAJAVAJAVAJAVAJAVAJAVAJAVAJAVA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I find that the moment I think I've had enough and cannot do more, my reserve is at full.

When it seems my world is cumbling from without, my friends torn internally asunder and I cannot give anymore, my reserve is at full.

I don't know where it comes from, how to replenish it or whom to thank, but my reserve is at full.

To Weave-O, Sushi D and LDG I send all of my reserve and need no assurance of a return.

Y'all need it most right now, and besides, my reserve is at full.