I Hate a Cheap Screw!
These were the words my boss spit out in disgust when trying to construct a railing on the house we are currently constructing. Our associate, Bobby, echoed these sentiments explaining how you spend so much money on taking them out to dinner, it really is a damn shame. This should sum up the miscommunication and mindset that exists in our workforce.
A Portrait of William as a Young Man
Last night I likened my brother's blogging skills to the writing abilities of James Joyce. Crazy Brian toned the comparison down to Joseph Heller, but I stand by placing my brother next to the greatest author in history. Note my copying of his sectional titling in this blog.
The Fish Man's New Clothes
The continued saga of George's (the evicted fellow) clothing. He came to visit Terry and blame him (the third person to be blamed for this incident). Terry then informed Bobby to be on the lookout for George. Bobby then suggested that upon sight of George he would run him down without honking, so he wouldn't even know it was coming. Eevryone then voiced their anticipation of the winter season when the Fish Man would be cruising the streets in George's brand new Carhartt and leather jackets (there was some debate on if it was real leather). Then it was discovered that George's Indiana Jones hat was in the truck and everyone found the need to model it. Also, I was informed that the Fish Man is named such because his father sold fish in Suffolk back in the day. This seemed to make sense to everyone else except me, someone out there tell me I am not alone in my confusion.
We eat lunch everyday, and I mean everyday without fail, at the Checkers Family Restaurant in Windsor. We have our own table. The waitress has our drinks sitting out before we arrive at noon. She knows us all by name and Terry orders a Bubba burger, but maintains his health with a side salad that is drenched in cheese and two packets of ranch dressing. Terry finishes the meal by throwinga wad of one dollar bills on the table, leaning back (which is a feat for him) and resting his sweet tea on his stomach.
It Always Comes Back to the Leaf
A recent recording of a reggae version of Life Less Ordinary on the Carbon Leaf message boards contained an onstage promise from Mr. Barry Privett himself of new material being written and recorded in August and a possible Fall release of new tracks. While I am now weary of BP's promises after patiently waiting 18 monthes for Indian Summer (well worth it) I chalk that experience up to their label shopping and have fully put my faith in the boys from Virginia to welcome me back to school with some hot new singles and possibly play them at the September shows I am planning to attend in Va Beach and Chapel Hill.
In the End, Its Just Me
The job and lack of friends around this summer has me sort of bummed with my situation, but I am usually too tired from work and summer basketball league to notice during the week. I'm beginning to average a 10:15 PM bedtime. So everything kind of sucks and I'm in a bad mood a lot around here with both my parents and I realizing that its about that time in life when I live on my own, but this summer's circumstances did not allow this. Monotony and loneliness, someone come break it.
A Portrait of William as a Young Man
Last night I likened my brother's blogging skills to the writing abilities of James Joyce. Crazy Brian toned the comparison down to Joseph Heller, but I stand by placing my brother next to the greatest author in history. Note my copying of his sectional titling in this blog.
The Fish Man's New Clothes
The continued saga of George's (the evicted fellow) clothing. He came to visit Terry and blame him (the third person to be blamed for this incident). Terry then informed Bobby to be on the lookout for George. Bobby then suggested that upon sight of George he would run him down without honking, so he wouldn't even know it was coming. Eevryone then voiced their anticipation of the winter season when the Fish Man would be cruising the streets in George's brand new Carhartt and leather jackets (there was some debate on if it was real leather). Then it was discovered that George's Indiana Jones hat was in the truck and everyone found the need to model it. Also, I was informed that the Fish Man is named such because his father sold fish in Suffolk back in the day. This seemed to make sense to everyone else except me, someone out there tell me I am not alone in my confusion.
We eat lunch everyday, and I mean everyday without fail, at the Checkers Family Restaurant in Windsor. We have our own table. The waitress has our drinks sitting out before we arrive at noon. She knows us all by name and Terry orders a Bubba burger, but maintains his health with a side salad that is drenched in cheese and two packets of ranch dressing. Terry finishes the meal by throwinga wad of one dollar bills on the table, leaning back (which is a feat for him) and resting his sweet tea on his stomach.
It Always Comes Back to the Leaf
A recent recording of a reggae version of Life Less Ordinary on the Carbon Leaf message boards contained an onstage promise from Mr. Barry Privett himself of new material being written and recorded in August and a possible Fall release of new tracks. While I am now weary of BP's promises after patiently waiting 18 monthes for Indian Summer (well worth it) I chalk that experience up to their label shopping and have fully put my faith in the boys from Virginia to welcome me back to school with some hot new singles and possibly play them at the September shows I am planning to attend in Va Beach and Chapel Hill.
In the End, Its Just Me
The job and lack of friends around this summer has me sort of bummed with my situation, but I am usually too tired from work and summer basketball league to notice during the week. I'm beginning to average a 10:15 PM bedtime. So everything kind of sucks and I'm in a bad mood a lot around here with both my parents and I realizing that its about that time in life when I live on my own, but this summer's circumstances did not allow this. Monotony and loneliness, someone come break it.
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