I need to congratulate Corey and Rachel Stern for their union, and an excellent event of a wedding. Due to non-wedding related situations that occurred at the reception, though, I had a very upsetting evening. The story is far too drama-packed for me to post here and retain a shred of dignity. Among other things, it does involve the unearthing of Kari cavorting behind my back during the course of our relationship. If you're interested in hearing, comment, email, or IM me and I will use discretion in explaining via email or IM. Or via drinks. That is always a welcome option.
Back to a good note, Corey and Rachel are off to Hawaii. Have a good time, kids!
In other news, you all should be eager for Mascarade and Will Tolle on Friday, 08/05/05. Let me know if you're coming, eh?
a pirate's life for me,
World, what a world.
So, Luke and I's were at Fern's, and of a rare occasion, a tramp approaches, having been ditched by her friends, engaging discussion. Not bad looking, but 31 with child, and I can't speak for her personality. After a couple of awkward rub-ups on her behalf, she said that she was attracted to Luke, and had been 'hitting on him' all night.
"Hitting on him?"
"ummm, I was giving him the eye all night."
She suggested coming back to the apartment upstairs, for more drinks. All we have is whiskey, and we certainly didn't want to be compromised by having a stranger sleep in our living room. We had no idea where she intended to sleep.
"I had CVS [not certain if this is the acronym she used] when I was a kid."
"Yea. My brain swelled to five times its size. They had to take my skull off."
"Five times?" I gestured what this would be.
"Are you calling me a liar?!" She was actually offended.
Luke used 'going to the can' as an excuse to get away and call me, and we ended up taking the "pay the tab and ditch it" route.
We can't help but brown our FTL's with delight.
But Hailey reports that Luke is cuter than Mark Hamil. *stop*
I had what I had.
No angst, no drama. Lucky us. Consumption is well up, though.
Paula [called me]: "I talked to Kari."
Paula: "She doesn't know if she is staying in New York or coming back."
Lee: "Doesn't matter to me, either way."
Paula: "Hey. You two can still be friends."
Lee: "Eh. No."
Paula: "Come on! You and Kari can still be friends."
Lee: "No. I don't want to talk about it."
About work! For those of you who don't know what I do for income, I take small business escalations for AT&T. Most of what I work with is local service (UNE-P), and half of the calls I get are customers browning their FTL's. The other part of it consists of questions from the AT&T Credit Representatives, and dealing with their more intricate and detailed problems. Anyhow, often a "rep" will call in with a question for the customer that they can't answer, sometimes regarding our long, drawn-out local service restoral procedures, I will answer their question, and...here comes the hemorrhaging..."umm...can you tell them that?"
Anyhow, on another "Enemy of the State" note, Charles Featherstone put together a symphony of a piece. An excerpt:
[Our cops are beginning to resemble the benighted and trigger-happy police of many a Third World dictatorship, poorly trained in everything except bullying, eager to charge with guns blazing and contemptuous of the very populations whose security they have supposedly sworn to uphold. They are, increasingly, more like shock troops protecting the regime than they are protecting the peace and securing an order based on liberty.]
Listen to Tom Waits. Tonight.
An open letter.
Dear Mr. Aaron Burr,
Andrew Jackson and I just wished to formally thank you for killing Mr. Alexander Hamilton.
Rev. Lee R. Brennise, Enemy of the State
Kicking away at the mirage.
Totin' stuff from Lowertown to Cathedral Hill most of the week. Can I find any other events? Cross every one of your damned fingers.
Bonnie has volunteered to escort me to Corey and Rachel's wedding this coming Saturday evening. It is bound to be a blast. Brian, who I drank with at the bachelor party, will be there. A good time cannot not be had.
Stomp with me. Stomp! It isn't very effective, but it sends that fuse light up your spine, if you just try-hard-enough.
cut that fuse in half,
I can hardly move my arms.
Still wrestling with the days and evenings.
On a lighter note, my limbs are boards today as we successfully completed the move yesterday, less one pictureframe. I haven't unwrapped the little stack that the son of a bitch is in, yet, but the print inside had better be alright. It is a piece that Dan did--and incredible sketch from the back of J's (our old stomping ground, I posted earlier of its closing). I don't know if I could survive the loss of that print.
Luke, Clint, and I did a run at Fab Fern's and Costello's last night to complete the day. Looking for people to go again, and frequently.
Kari finally called Paula, as expected. She's been calling MacKinney a lot since the tenth. I don't even know if he answers his phone, so I couldn't succeed in elaborating.
I should get back to surviving. Tell your friends I said "hi".
Posting for posting's sake. Couple'a meetings this week after work--for one, the Free Staters are heading out to Porcupine Fest this coming Friday. Wave 'bye' to them!
And packing. OH the boxes!
You should all be listening to Porcupine Tree (in no way related to the FSP) like I am. "Dead Wing" is probably the best release of 2005...maybe the decade.
I've got Friday off, if it means anything. It probably means more packing.
OH--and out of beard world, back to goatee land. If any of you cared.
Imagine the finality of it.
Heavy-limping through the week. No calendar tells me when I won't.
I was en route to the apartment, coming back from my mom's, when Nik, a member of the FSP and owner of a small insurance company, called:
"Lee. I need an AK47 by Friday."
"No prob, Nick. I will make a call tomorrow."
This is quite real, but hilarious in retrospect.
Saturday--despite that it was eight p.m., I was having an afternoon bloody mary, waiting for Bonnie, Matt, and Maggie to show. We [+Luke] did some packing and swilling until about two. The girls were passed out, so the three guys left standing went and picked up some White Castle. Oh, depravity.
Mascarade has a MySpace. Go ahead and check out the track they've got posted. Go on. I expect those of you in the area will be at their Stub & Herb's show on Friday, 08/05/05. Will is performing, too.
Want to help me move on Saturday?
trying not to drink too early,
The week still snailing by, I have kept myself awfully busy to keep from giving much of a thought about 'things'. Not sure if posting will keep its [ill] frequency, but it'll happen anyhow.
I just thought I would point out that I live in Minnesota, it is nine a.m. right now, and it is OVER EIGHTY DEGREES OUT!
Sighs all around, team. Giggle and watch me lurch through another day.
Just like on the tee-vee.
Here is to the weekend, I guess. MacKinney's truck packed on Friday, I got out of work a wee bit early and met him at his office with a sack of Scrubway. After eating, and in the wait for his completion of workly duties, I got a call from Kari. Choked up, she tried to explain to me that she doesn't think she is coming back from New York. After a short discussion, and a mention of bad timing, as MacKinney and I were about to leave for the road trip, I asked that she consider over the weekend as we could discuss it at length upon my return, Sunday. What was, was, and MacKinney and I hit the road to Cross Lake, by Brainerd, for Corey's bachelor party.
The weekend was a heck of a time. Beer and whiskey a-plenty, there was an embarrassing amount of fart-lighting, and raiding invisible pirates in the lake with Brian Larson's beautiful potato cannon that his retired father had constructed. Speaking of Brian Larson, good guy. Singing in a band called "Seconds Before". Talented stuff, but not of my preference.
Friday and Saturday oozed wonderfully, and I woke up to a lengthy voicemail from Kari on Sunday late morning. To paraphrase, she has made a final decision on the crack, and has been trying to break up with me for some time. She wasn't concerned with losing me as a boyfriend, she was just concerned about losing me as a best friend.
Well, the bird has flown an' the water sits, still. Thank the bleeding jeebus that I personally signed a no-drama no-angst pledge. That doesn't mean that long, long weeks aren't coming, though.
'least I still have...
This will be a mighty boring post.
I am drunk with anticipation for Corey's weekend-long bachelor party. No...wait...just drunk. So no posting, but I am hoping to when I return on Sunday.
And the LPMN ExCom is Monday. Where are my evenings going?!
Just got back from MacKinney's--he is driving us tomorrow--to this huge cabin, I guess. All the guns, ammo, and drink in the bed of his pickup. North, HO!
have yourselves a merry little weekend,
Now, dance for me!
Saturday evening proved to be well-spent. Sarah and MacKinney were by, opening with a few drinks before Nate and Ryan arrived. Through a couple of drinks at Alary's with Nate harassing Bonnie on my mobile, she headed over along with a couple of friends. Pleasant surprise, though, Matt and Maggie are quality folk, and pictured. Looking forward to future drinks with them, of course. He will never hear the end of it, but Matt's mannerisms and voice bear uncanny resemblance to Jason from Home Movies.
Weekends abound! Hopefully I will find time to post in the madness of the coming weeks.
do us all a favor,
Defeating drama since 1999.
Pending responses on a number of interested parties on whether or not I am having people over tonight. I can see the Taste of Minnesota fireworks from the pavilion in my building, at least. Either way, though, I am expecting a few tomorrow evening. Drawn between boozing with the crew 'round here or watching Adult Swim.
Too many people will probably nod to that. I am pathetic.
Too much thinking during this weekend's coop-up. How long before the United States of America becomes a non-fiction version of a dystopian novel? AND LONG for the time when the question would have been phrased "How long before the United States of America become a non-fiction version of a dystopian novel?"
Don't even tell me it isn't happening. Today's list is far longer than this one was.
Meanwhile, Congress dukes it out over whether or not its [constituents] are allowed to burn flags, spend their own money, educate their own children. The [children] coerced into the 'public schools' (see: Ministry of Truth) can be forcefully medicated, too? Expansions of the famed PATRIOT Act permissing federal [agents] to write up their own warrants on the spot? Didn't we fight a war over this already?
Longing for Libertopia, where the only form of partisanship is between the minarchists and the anarchocapitalists. I suppose the collectivists will have a third party, but I can deal with that.
Luke is out of town for this three-day weekend, so I've got the apartment to my self. Last night was a hell of a kickoff, too. As MacKinney, Paula, and I started in on the drinking, Corey (from the LP) called, blotto out of his mind, words slurring. After Taste of Minnesota fireworks from the Pavilion in my building, and a couple of drinks at the Hat Trick, MacKinney's speech was substantially impaired.
Ah, excellent times.
Clint--Daddy Warbucks--has got his own blog, now. Uh-oh.
living in my own private Idaho?