Tuesday, June 27, 2006

I Have no Time

I Have No Time...to write something pithy

I Have No Time...to do all that I am supposed to do

I Have No Time...to see Q and everyone else I want to spend time with

I Have No Time...to do the massive ammounts of laundry, clean up my house, and still have enough slacking off time to keep me sane

I Have No Time...to be a good worker

I Have No Time...to write the letter i said i was writing

I Have No Time...to figure out what to do with my life

I Have No Time...to find something stunning that begins with the letter 'L'

I Have No Time to finish this blog...

Monday, June 26, 2006

Chicken

Did I Say That Out Loud?

When I get wrapped up in work or something that really has my attention I tend to also randomly say things in my head about what I'm doing or what I'm thinking while balls deep in my task.

I have been known to say things randomly and without care about whatever is on my mind. But sometimes, there are those moments where I'm having a private moment internally about the thing with the two heads and the Astroglide and the lions whip and the giant Fantasy Swing with the cute red head.

Ok, see that's what I'm saying. I get going and then I pop my own bubble due to fear that I have just said some shit out loud.

Now, for those monkey's that know me, this is so far removed than my normal day to day stuff, where I will randomly throw a curve ball in the mix if we're going at it. I'm talking about the kind of thing that happens where I could have someone sitting there talking to me at my desk, and I'm still wrapped up in work, but I'm kind of conscience to what is being said, and then I pop off with, "Goddamn Granola Crunch is killing my bee hives" or some shit. And people go, um, ok.

Well, anyway, I officially think that this is a fear of mine. To just say something that is on my mind without realizing that I did and to have people over hear me. I will say just about anything about myself for those who wanna know. -Just- about anything. Not all. I gotta have something for myself, and it's those bits that might get out that make me nervous. But sadly it's nothing that interesting, I haven't killed anyone in the clergy nor should I be considered a second suspect along side O.J. I just got some goods I want to keep all to my lonesome.

Friday, June 23, 2006

Sorry is the Hardest Word

Ok, granted there are pinheads in this world. I come across these asshats everyday.

But I honestly didn't expect myself to be one.

Dateline 6/22/06,
location: Adolini's Bar & Grill, Golden
Mission: To put on one badass rock show with your friends and brothers.

My band was scheduled to play at this bar, and maybe even get it record and mastered onto DVD. Cool huh?

Well, let me first explain that is was known from the beginning, This was a non-paying gig. We were ok with that. This also was a 'to get exposure' kind of a thing.' We were ok with that. We were scheduled according to their web'space' and my friend, who got us the show. We were cool with that to..

The Scheduled Line Up:
8 PM an acoustic singer/songwriter accompanied by a couple of my bandmates. COOL
9PM One of my bandmates (his band composed of him/me/ and our drummer... COOL.
10PM me and all my boyz rock out VERY COOL.

The REALITY:
8pm came and went, apparently since the 'sound man' (we'll call him asshat#1) just didn't seem to be in much of a hurry. Well, he finally gets The guys on and they play. Now, for the record, despite the tardiness, they actually SOUNDED really damn good. Mainly because they are very talented, but also because the sound guy mixed them good.

9pm group actually gets on at about 10. Now here's were it gets stupid. Asshat #1 vanishes. I'm onstage to play bass, already set up, and so are the otherguys. The keyboardist from MY band is getting concerned because the folks who came out to see us are starting to LEAVE. He approaches me, I had no idea where Asshat#1 is. He goes to look. He's back in no less than 1 minute to tell me "That sound guy is a total fucking asshole!" Of course I think "WTF?" No sooner than he walks to his table, a couple of 'patrons' (guys I never met) are giving me an 'ugly kid joe' while walking out, saying :

"We wanted to hear you play, but it's fucking late."

Ok, so by now I am begging tto think that there is a problem.

No. Wait.

The soundguy walks in right after the 'joes' leave saying "Anybody else have a fucking problem with me?"

Ok NOW there' s a problem.

Now Here's the part were I turn into an asshat. (Asshat #2) ME: "Nah man, just wanna get the show on, y'know. Some of the folks that showed are leaving. "

Asshat#1: "well we are here to record a fucking TV show, and the bands get recorded when they get recorded. I ain't gonna put up with no shit from assholes off the street. Now as soon as I'm ready, WE'RE ready."

Now, you might be saying "WTF!" and 'why didn't you beat the living shit outta AssHat#1 right there and then?'

That's why I am Asshat#2.

But wait it gets even better. (or worse)

We play, and from the stage it was good. Real Good. Hell, I almost forgot about all the BS from before it was so good.
We end our set and now for MY BAND:

It's somewhere between 11:45pm and 12:15 AM. We are finally set up we are linechecked and by this time My guitar player and my keyboard player are ready to grab their shit, say FUCK THIS SHIT, and go home. I give them my pep talk before we go on, I tell them that no matter what has happened, or will happen, we came to play, we are going to make history right here, right now, let do it.

And we played, probably one of our best shows, Not perfect, but we brought it.

And it was captured on DVD. For all time, forever.

and so was Asshat#1, bitching in between a couple of songs about the Keyboard pushing too much signal killing the mix. This wouldn't have been a big deal, but remember: Asshat#1 is a total fucking asshole.


We actually get things sorted, the mix is fixed, everything sounds kosher.
Cue Asshat#2 (Me): "Now that we've got the sound fixed can we get a bit more of the keyboard in the monitors?"
Yeah, I got HUGE balls,

Balls of Cotton.


We bang out the rest of our set. We actually put on a damn good show. Everybody there, (including all asshats) were pleased with it. Even took home a $150 (yup that's right) DVD to show for it. Hell, a few of the songs were never recorded before this and now we've got 'em. I can finally send that song I wrote for my dad, on DVD, full blown.

OK... so
WTF is my point?

I could have stood up for my brothers, but I didn't. I could have said a million things to defend my band, friends and my family, I could have even just said "FUCK THIS SHIT AND FUCK YOU, WE'RE LEAVING."

But I didn't. And I fell like a total shit ass for it.

Yeah, we got a great performance on video, but at what cost? Was it really worth it? What would have been a better thing to do?

I may be overanalyzing shit, but then, isn't that the point of this blog?

Now, for the part I feared. I sent an email to one of my friends, and I told him the hardest thing I could say:


I'm Sorry.

Friday, June 16, 2006

The Facilities

Recently I visited the head in the office. And OMFG was I instantly angered. Some nut sack left their Taco Bell jammed in the one goddamn toilet we have. On top of this, that crack head apparently had an additional Burrito Supreme or 4 extra tacos because it was not going anywhere.

As I cleared the problem and sat to have my own personal experience, I decided that this was one time that was not going un-noticed. See, I have had to clear the muddy waters before, but the fact that I had to become a freakin' plumber was -enough- ! It was time to send the email from the handy dandy notebook (aka Blackberry) to most of the male staff during this time period, while launching the escape pods.

Here for your enjoyment is that very email:
~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fellas,

Who ever was the last to use the 'facilities' to 'drop some packets' you left that 'connection open and there was limited bandwidth for traffic flow'. This would be the second time I have had to 'close a connection to that socket' and the first to 'forcefully end that session by use of additional tools'. I would seriously recommend that you 'monitor the status of your packet flow to ensure proper connectivity so the proper destination is achieved'. If I personally have to 'monitor and close sessions' like this again I will probably go a little nucking futs about it.

Your friendly neighborhood watch commander,

Munpe Q

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A recommendation from Wordicus:

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Maybe we have a bandwidth problem. Should we "route some traffic" through the "women's facility" instead? Perhaps a little "load balancing" is in order...

~~~~~~~~~~~~

As it turns out, this trend has no end. As reported by Pile:

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I just ran into some nasty UDP that was lost in transit. The sender didn't check the TTL and caused a nasty buffer overflow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~


Shortly there after I had a verbal confirmation from Bulldog that he was not to blame, I knew this, and that he was kind enough to report that he had indeed had a SYN > ACK. I asked to ensure the socket was closed that he received a FIN, and in fact he did. Good for you Bulldog.

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

Friday-itis

Look, if it's a little after 3PM on Friday and you don't really feel like doing your job for the next 2 hours because the weekend is so close, just fucking quit.

There are 10 other people who would love to have your job and would do it until 5 o'clock each day. I'll bet ya the company could hire them cheaper than you as well.

I'm in Orlando at the big charity event my friend and I put on each year. We're expecting several packages that contain raffle prizes for the attendees. These range in size from 1 lb. all the way up to 86 lbs., which contains a brand new guitar amplifier. The amp was shipped from San Diego on Weds. and was sent 2-day air using a company that has 3 letters in it's name, the first of which is "U".
On Thursday, the foot controller for the amp arrives in it's little 3 lb. box. It's marked "1 of 2" and it's actually ahead of schedule. I made the BRUTAL mistake of getting my hopes high that the large 86 lb. box would arrive on time the following day.

I'm such a dreamer. Or am I?

The event is scheduled to start at 8PM on Friday night. The delivery company stops delivering at 6PM. No packages yet, so I call them with the tracking number....

"CUSTOMER SERVICE!!!!"
"CUSTOMER SERVICE!!!!"
...fucking automated phone prompts....I hope they can pick up the anger in my voice as they automatically transfer me....

"Hello. I need this package [gives tracking number] delivered to this hotel. Now."
"I'm sorry sir, but the drivers are finished delivering packages for the day."
"No they are not. They have one more to deliver. The company paid for 2-day. Today is the 2nd day. Get it?"
"I'm sorry sir, but the notes here say that they could not find that address."
"Are you fucking kidding me? They dropped off the first half of the delivery yesteryday. They sure as shit know where this place is. Don't lie to me. I'm bored with that. What I need is that box delivered here before 8PM. I don't care how you get it here. Grab a bike. Just have it here by 8."
"I'm sorry sir but all the drivers are gone for the day. The package will be delivered the next business day."
"Look, there is no 'next business day' here. It's an annual event. Today is my ONE business day all year."
"You can try calling the local distribution facility, but they closed 30 minutes ago."
"Give me the number."

At this point, blood is coming out of my eyes and people at the event are starting to look at me funny and step slowly toward the exits. It's understandable. I forgive them. I hope they forgive me later.

I let the fucking number ring. And ring. And ring.
Twelve minutes later, it's answered.

I explain the whole thing over again to the guy that the previous operator told me (lied to me) that she had contacted. The guy is fairly cool, but he can't locate the box.
Finally he does. It's there. He can see it.
"Great. Now put it on a truck or a motorcycle and get it over here. The event starts in 20 minutes. I need it here by then. I can't raffle off a piece of paper saying 'Coming Soon!'."
"I'm sorry sir, but all the drivers are gone for the day."
"You don't have a fucking car?"
"I can't deliver packages in my personal vehicle. The company doesn't allow that."
"I'm *wide* open for ideas then. Courier, rickshaw, transporter beam, toss 'em out there....I'm listening..."
"You can come here and pick it up."
"Is that some kind of sick fucking joke? You're a DELIVERY company!"
"That's the only option at this point, or we can deliver it on Monday."
"Apparently you didn't get the memo from the first person about how there is no 'monday' for me."
"Well, we're open until 9PM, our address is....."

Son of a cock junkie.
I get in my truck, leave two black rubber trails out of the parking lot and head to their facility to pick it up. A 30 min. trip. Each way. The security guard at the facilty is pretty cool, but a *tad* bit over-protective of the pavement he's securing. Maybe it was my violent body shakes that kept his hand on his walkie-talkie. Or maybe the guy inside cowering behind the window had warned him that I was "upset".

I get the package back. It's almost an hour after the event had started. I'm a little calmer now. Not much.
I needed a beer. Badly.

All of this......
Because some fuckstick had a case of Friday-itis and didn't want to lift/drop-off an 86 lb. box.
That cock-smoker.

I guess the better question is: What CAN'T Brown do for you today?

Tuesday, June 13, 2006

You Don't Write anymore.....

Gotta hand it to my blood MunpeQ.

Always thinkin', always on his toes.


He and I.. we're the same..

Ok. Maybe not. Certainly not in that 'Fight Club' sort of way. But He does pick up what gets
thrown down. And regularly too.

What the fuck am I talking about?

I'll tell ya.

Bloggin', that's what.


When that uncomfortable silence kicks in during a conversation, sometimes making THAT part of your conversation, it's no longer 'uncomfortable'.

At least not to me. I just think it's a great idea to point out when you think the conversation is
now defunct.

Sometimes it makes the 'uncomfortableness' MORE uncomfortable. But so what. Don't be a pansey. Be first and forward and say what's on your mind.

I unfortunately am incredibly OBSESSED with this comic/graphic novel project. It literally consumes almost every hour of my fucking day. I can't help but think out scenarios, or production details and equipment or anything else that could forward the Project.

I lament this to a point. But the truth is I am really havening a great fucking time.

Now if I could only win the goddamn powerball.

......


...............

















There's that uncomfortable silence again....

Monday, June 12, 2006

Morning Wood



I'd like to mention how great wood is. I'm not talking about the whole cord of wood, just the log of your choosin'. There ain't nothing like taking a trip down the steps first thing in the AM to pull off a log. Sun's breaking through the windows, animals are starting to rustle around, the smell of the ol' lady cookin' some grub, and you with your wood; about to start some trouble with your log.

Hope the young'n ain't around, cause it's gonna be hard to douse the fire once you get it started.

Have fun in the morning with your wood next time you think of it.