[ life:revisited 2010 + 1 ]

Well, I am trying to brew beer for the first time, and I am sure it will be perfect. Well maybe not. Its actually a pretty involved process, for those who haven'y google'd that shizz, its a lot of cleaning, cleaning, boiling, stirring, sprinkling, then hoping for about a month. I just actually finished the first part about 2 hours ago. So I have a while to figure out if I made bathtub whiskey, iced tea, swill, or something that might pass off as Coors Light.
But hey, it was fun! :) And I got to celebrate by having some tasty Sam Adams.

NINJA UPDATE 2.13.10 : Beer actually tastes pretty good, as it is non-carbonated, and still needs to be bottled. Kind of like a lighter Hoegaarden. More to come after I bottle in the next few days.

So I was on the Metra going to my crib, and shit, dawg, and like I was jamming out to some phat tunes on Pandora on my Blackberry. And shit.


So I have some pretty kick ass headphones, and I can jack up the volume pretty high, so I was having a great time, let me tell you. Then, for some reason Pandora decided to just start playing the song I was jamming out to at max volume out of the speakerphone on the Blackberry. 


The picture you see is what happened next.


Well, not really, it was more like a bunch of middle-aged businessmen and women looking at me with disdain, as if to say "What is the strange noise that has begun playing on my quaint train ride?" Cue me frantically trying to pause the music (which failed) and unplug and plug in my headphones (which failed the first time, then worked the second time) I sheepishly said "Sorry", and resumed my jam session in private. The picture is what happened in my mind, just somehow hoping this would turn into the most awesome music video in the world ever. But, alas, no strobe lights or hot rave chicks in wifebeaters getting all sweaty. No drugs either. :(


Well, at least tomorrow is Friday. Yay.

mood: pretty damn tired
beverage: ice water
weapon of choice: G4TV


There are not a whole lot of things on this earth better than pure, mind-numbing relaxation. Usually for me, during the work week, this will involve the television show Cops. I think the best thing about this show, other than car chases, fucking morons, and arrogant law enforcement, is the "Grass is Greener" factor. Right now, my job is tough, money is tight, and I am not going to get enough sleep. However, by the grace of God and my own intelligence, I am not being thrown on the grown while wearing MC Hammerpants, a wifebeater, 1 sock, while trying to jump a fence that is obviously wayyyyy too tall for any normal human to ascend. Its almost subconsicous I think, but watching other people that are worse off then you, most of them by their own decisions, I think it just makes a mundane day that much sweeter.

Does that make me an asshole? Maybe, but I'm not going to jail for meth. I'll take being the asshole.
Night all. :)

A phrase was coined recently (and it has been coined before, and will be again, because of the nature of this phenomenon) called the "Magic Scooter". This scooter exists in many different times and places in our continuum. It allows people to travel back and forth through time and space. Most of us have used this scooter to do many interesting things, but here are the catches: First, you never remember where you got on the scooter, and you don't remember where or when you got off of it. Secondly, after you get off, it vanishes to assist the next rider. Finally, it will only appear when you are intoxicated. 


This scooter has assisted many people in doing both great and terrible things. A friend of mine, lets call him Dr. Love, has woken up fully clothed in his kitchen after riding the scooter one night. Problem was his house was 45 miles away, and he did not drive home. No one can recall how he got home. The last time I rode the scooter I did not go far, only outside my apartment. But I woke up, partially clothed, sleeping on the sidewalk outside my apartment. At about 8:30 am. On a Tuesday. In Wrigleyville. The last memory I have was having a few beers at a bar down the street. These are just the stories I remember now, because this is also another small side effect of warping with this mystical moped, the events may not come back to anyone until many days, weeks, or even months later. 


Please remember, the Magic Scooter will at some point take you for a ride, or maybe it already has, and you are just now remembering it. Share these stories with me, and maybe I will post them, if they meet my demanding criteria. 

//drink = multiple whiskey homicides
//mood = indifferent
//weapon of choice = my own hands

Holy shitballs. It took me like 25 minutes to type this, mainly because of my sobriety level. I am not full of my normal ridiculuousness because i am intoxicated. Yay. Going to try to sleep now because I should. Metaphysical things can wait until the morrow.

...aaaaand its the same old song and dance. That's right interweb, L:R is back, new and improved, and still relatively unread. :) A few updates are in order. I am now happily married, with small dog and new place in the burbs, as the City of Chicago's Elite Rat Brigade forced my family out of our squalid 1 bedroom apartment in Lakeview. It was all for the best, as our new digs are much more comfy, larger, and decidedly sans rats. I am going to keep this particular post short, and let some select retards know about my resurgence. If you are reading this, and you can comment, then you are one of them. If you would like to become part of this cadre of morons, please email me at [darkstar_07 (at) hotmail (dot) com.] Adios muchachos, daddy has a whiskey playdate in Central IL. Maybe I will see you there.