The Saints are Coming!

As the Saints prepare to play this week against the Denver Broncos, I am reminded of my time in Colorado. I was at the last Monday Night Football game at Mile High Stadium, where the Raiders played the Broncos, and I was working security guarding the Raiders' fans section. The Raiders' fans apparently all caravaned to Denver in order to secure an entire section of the stadium as Raiders' territory, only to scare the bejesus out of my friend Donny and me. When Donny and I arrived in the Raiders' fan zone, the person we replaced informed us that all of the fans were warned not to throw any more bottles or trash or else they might be ejected from the game--something Donny and I would have to take care of, of course. We arrived after halftime to this section, which, if there were a Raiders' bible, it would dictate a Raiders' fan shall have become well-inebriated by halftime. These were definitely followers of the Raiders' doctrine.
After a few minutes of fearing both falling over the railing and being pushed over the railing by a Raiders' fan, someone came to my rescue by asking if either Donny or I would like to contain a much safer section down below. I left Donny behind. All I had to do at this point was to keep the aisles clear. Done. No Raiders' fans in this section--at least, not until after the game is over. I had to actually prevent the Raiders' fans from throwing garbage and spitting on the Broncos' players as they walked to the locker room. Raiders' fans are all the proof I need that we have come from some sort of lower life form, since, even Raiders' fans evolve eventually. They turn into Cowboys' fans.

Seattle

I go on a vacation, document my journey, create a flickr account 4 years later, and then my picture is included on the new edition of Schmap Seattle. The picture in question is in front of the Pyramid Brewery.

Using the Wrong Search Engine

If you were trying to do a Google search for my blog and you actually found my blog, you can thank Google for keeping you connected to the white world. A search on RushmoreDrive for my blog will leave you empty, as it is the new Google for black people. If you happened to be using RushmoreDrive, you should just search for Google and safely end back up in the white world. You may not be as in touch with your inner-black as you once thought.

My Car

My 2000 Toyota Camry has been parked in my garage for a couple of months waiting for me to finally take it to Toyota and have them fix her up. In honor of my car, Google Maps decided to finally have a street view of Bakersfield included on their site where my car can be spotted in three separate locations throughout the city. My lavender beauty can be seen at my current residence, my former "real" job, and at Sandrini's. Maybe one day my car will be spotted at the Toyota dealership, but until then, these are the only instances which prove that my car does more than collect dust in the garage.

Pogues rant

At the Lakehouse, we are very Zune-friendly with both the physical Zune and Zune Pass to accompany it. Today, I decided to play some of The Pogues. I did the usual search for them on the Zune software and clicked on the artist when I ended up on the main artist page for The Pogues. On the Zune software, there is a list of the top songs by other Zune members (based on number of plays), and this is where my (short) rant begins. The top two songs are both Love You 'Till the End, one from the Pogues' album Pogue Mahone, the other from the P.S. I Love You soundtrack. I am just a little disappointed in my fellow Zune users, as this is the most un-Pogues song ever recorded by The Pogues both in sound and also the fact that Shane MacGowan (the lead singer) had nothing to do with the album or song. I am also pretty sure when Neil and I saw them rock New York on St. Patrick's Day two years ago that Love You 'Till the End was not a part of the set list, because they know what most Zune users do not: that song kind of blows.

Today is 8/8/8

According to numerous news articles, I am supposed to get married today as this is the luckiest day ever. If I pass up this opportunity, a day this lucky may never come my way again. All of this sounds very familiar, so I don't feel too rushed. I suppose my last day for luck will come in 4 years, 4 months, and 4 days on 12/12/12. After that, I could not possibly imagine any luck coming on a day full of 13s. My lucky day (today) started with me drinking a bottle of 2005 Simi Cabernet Sauvignon*, re-watching two episodes of Freaks and Geeks, going to bed around 2:30A.M., waking up to drain the wine around 10A.M., and then proceeding to do nothing the rest of the day. I better get the best tips of my life tonight at work, and I just pray that someone pays at 8:08 and 8 seconds tonight. I do feel lucky enough to finally take a shower and brush my teeth after I post this, so that I may finally leave my house long enough to get sweaty and find a source of nourishment.

I'd like to point out that Google does not recognize 8/8/8 as a date, but merely a math equation where the answer is 0.125. You must type 8/8/08 to find information on the date.

*In 2003, for my sister's 25th birthday, we attended a Bob Dylan Concert and went wine tasting at Simi. As it was July, I was not yet 21, but if a vineyard is charging me money regardless of how much I drink, I planned on at least sampling the wine. Unfortunately, wine was not my cup of tea (as it was my first alcohol consumption ever! Sorry Candice, Kristen, Sethea, and Kim, but Pyramid was not my first!), so I did not appreciate the experience outside of the boatloads of cheese trays everywhere.

Giving Me Money

I would like to point out the "Donate" button at the top of the page and clear some things up regarding that button. The "Donate" button allows any visitor to my page--at any time--to donate money to me without any questions asked. I will not hound you for donating too little, nor will I assume you are showing off how much money you make by donating any amount I consider to be very large (in the case of my audience, that would probably be greater than $1.00). Just as I will not bother the charitable person(s) with annoying questions, I expect the the charitable person(s) to do the same. In the event that someone both (1) donates money and (2) asks where their hard-earned money* will ultimately be spent, that person should look in the mirror and ask themselves where their money goes when they shop at large, department discount stores. If you said dispersed (equally) among uneducated employees, third-world factory workers, and high-salaried corporate heads, that answer would be sufficient, but do not expect me to do the same. I will not allow any of your money to end up in the pocket of some uneducated employee or third-world factory worker.

Feel free to donate as often as you'd like or even as often as I'd like: daily.


*assumption given for the benefit of whoever happens to donate, money does not have to be hard-earned.

Listen to my Mexican grandma

Today I met Lola (the dog)'s and Phoebe (the niece)'s Mexican grandmother who hugged me and referred to herself as my Mexican grandmother as well (not sure how that works, but who doesn't wish for a new grandma every once in a while?). She told me that I should move to Atascadero and go swimming in her pool. Each day the weather maxes out at 75 degrees (in July!), I am more and more tempted to do just that.

So far on my trip, I have slept on the couch everyday and have only showered once. I have yet to see the ocean, but I have had enough tropical mixed drinks to convince me I am close enough. I originally planned on heading back to Bakersfield on Sunday night, but as Tuesday creeps nearer, I am obviously not driving yet. If I didn't have so many bills all the time (and if I didn't have to work Tuesday night), I would just call my roommates and Frugatti's and tell them all I quit both work and Bakersfield and just shack up at my sister's until I found a place of my own. Of course, to make that work, I might have to either start cleaning the place, or start changing diapers and breast feeding the baby, you know, just to help my sister out around the place.

The main reason I haven't left is because we started the newest Bourne movie that sucked me right in, and just as it was winding down (explaining where he came from), the very legal copy we were watching started skipping in the dvd player. This forced us to watch the remainder from the much smaller laptop screen. It didn't finish until after 10, which was plenty of time to head home, but I had a family of four convincing me to stay until morning.