Fort Worthless
For a blog that has a 4 person readership, demand is high! So who am I to ignore the masses? Instead of continuing my unintentional sabbatical, I bring you the latest from that bustling metropolis that is Fort Worth. Grapevine techinically. A small town north of Fort Worth and about 15 miles east of Big D, Grapevine gets its name from the 9 wineries that dot its landscape. And really, is there anything that sounds better than North Texas wine? I submit there is not.
The weather has been hot, but you really do get used to it. Then again, not spending alot of time outside is a good way to beat the heat. But even when I go outside, I find it to be a dry heat, the kind where the sweat evaporates before you can really get soaked.
No one in Texas can drive. It is just that simple. It would be ok if the problem were just that they all drove too slow. Couple a 55 mph speed limit in most places with a populace who isn't used to travelling any faster than a bull can pull them, and you get a commute that is reminiscent of the video game Frogger. The real problem is sort of a cause and effect. For some reason, the civil engineers that designed the highway system here in the DFW metroplex were unaware that there are neither lakes nor mountains. It seems that when they drew the plans for each highway, they incorporated a number of S-curves and roundabouts that one would expect to find in Nepal, not America's flatland. So rather than taking a direct route east to west, north to south, the freeway system looks like a web woven by a drunk spider. As a result, it is VERY easy to miss your exit from highway to highway, as it may appear on the left or right side. Couple this unique thoroughfare with a group of people who are still trying to distinguish the brake pedal from the gas pedal, and you get a slow moving caravan of monster trucks and cadillacs travelling across mulitple lanes at a time, with no thought as to how this may effect people in those lanes....namely, ME! If I get cut off one more time, I am going to start taking advantage of Texas laws that allow open containers and concealed weapons. Speaking of which, can I just say real quick, there is a sign on the deli I eat at that prohibits the carrying of concealed weapons inside the restaurant without a permit. Just so we are clear, this means if you HAVE the permit, you CAN carry a gun when purchasing a reuben with a side of pasta salad. God knows, if it's one place you are going to be called on to draw, it's an establishment where everything comes with a pickle on the side.
I am in great shape. I workout every day, I eat right, I stay out of the bars. I am very happy with my health, and I am recommending to everyone that they focus on theirs. Admittedly, with a monotonous job with static hours and a life devoid of human contact, it is very easy for me to discuss the merits of this lifestyle. But there has to be room for exercise and healthy eating in all our lives, so I call on all readers to do 50 crunches tonight and skip dessert. OK, good luck with alllllllllllllllllll that......
Amy is working an IPO, and is spending all her time doing dilligence off-site. Let's just say, the witness protection program couldn't hide someone better than this. If anyone catches a glimpse of her on the freeway, throw her a wave for me. She will be out here next Sat, and the surprises I have in store limit my ability to share with you all my plans. Suffice it to say, good times!
I'm frustrated. My car partner is not interested in working extra hours. I would like to work 12 hours a day, but he is not even in the neighborhood of amenable to it. That means that I have a choice - I can either drive him home and stay home, or drive him home, then drive back to work to get an extra couple of hours in. This would put me in the gym at 10, and eliminate any chance I would have to relax. Its a toss up, so we'll see. The truth is, I have nothing keeping me from working extra, and the money is definitely a good enough incentive for me. I have big plans for that extra money, so I wish he would capitulate, or work something out with me. Im not holding my breath. But I can't help but feel like he is taking money out of my pocket. Am I way off here?
It's 11:30 pm, and it's closing in on bed time. With that, I will close with a bizarre exercise. I have chosen an incredibly annoying song, and I will now break down its lyrics. Look for much more of this, as it is high time bad musicians be held accountable for their awful songs:
I WOULD WALK 500 MILES
The Proclaimers
When I wake up, yeah I know Im gonna be,
I'm gonna be the man who wakes up next to you
(That's nice....)
When I go out yeah I know Im gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who goes along with you
(Ok, kinda suffocating...)
And If I get drunk, yes I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who gets drunk next to you
(So much for girls' night out....jeez, do you have friends?)
And if I haver whatever that means
I'm gonna be the man who's havering to you
(So basically you have to invent reasons to hang out together. Trust me, this girl needs space. It seems romantic, but she's just sick of you by now.)
But I would walk 500 miles
(Do you realize how far that is?)
And I would walk 500 more
(So you would walk a thousand miles.....why not just say that? And also, do you realize how far THAT is???)
To be the man who walked that thousand miles
To fall down at your door
(For a second, you had her. It seemed so sweet. But it's all about the recognition with you. "I'm not here to see you, I just want to be able to call myself the guy who walked hella far." By the way, of course you fell down, you were drunk and havering.)
When I'm working yeah I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who's working hard for you
(Wait, you went to work? But you only go out when she goes out. Do you guys work together?)
And when the money, comes in for the work I do
I'll pass almost every penny on to you
(Except for the few pence I set aside for booze and havers.)
When I come home yeah I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who comes back home to you
(She won't be there. Out with the girls finally!)
And if I grow old well I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who's growing old with you
("If" you grow old? Um, i think the concept of time comes into play here. By the way, why do people always preface photos with, "this is from when I was younger." ALL photos are of you when you were younger.)
And I would walk 500 miles (Yeah, you said that...)
And I would walk 500 more (Right, thousand miles. Why are you dating a girl who lives 1000 miles away? )
To be the man who walked that thousand miles
To fall down at your door
(You sleep in the same bed, and come home to her after work. Why are you so far away? Buy a plane ticket for crying out loud.)
Surrender (We do.)
Surrender (Oh god do we ever....)
When I'm lonely yes I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who's lonely without you
(You're 1000 miles away from your girl, of course you are lonely. And how could you POSSIBLY be lonely WITH her? You just aren't making sense at this point.)
When I'm dreaming yes I know I'm gonna dream
I gonna Dream about the time when I'm with you
(That's called a memory, not a dream. A dream would be imagining having a life.)
And if I get drunk, yeah I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man that gets drunk next to you
(Drunk again, huh? One of you has a drinking problem.)
And if I haver, whatever the heck that means
I'm gonna be the man who havers next you
(And addicted to havering. Where will it end?)
And I would walk 500 miles (Good god, more long distance walking. What are you, Forrest Gump?)
And I would walk 500 more (That's 1000 miles again. How far across is Scotland anyways? Can you even walk 1000 miles without passing her house three times?)
To be the man who walked that thousand miles
To fall down at your door
(Just thinking of walking 1000 miles makes me tired enough to fall down. And why fall down at the door? You made it all that way, and you can't wait to go 20 more feet to fall on the couch?)
Surrender
Surrender
When I'm lonely, yes I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man whos lonely without you
I'm gonna be the man whos coming home
(We've covered all of this.)
cause I would walk 500 miles
And I would walk 500 more
To be the man who walked that thousand miles
(What job do you have that lets you go walking for 3 weeks? Are you a postman by any chance?)
To fall down at your door
Surrender
Surrender
Surrender. (Done and........done.)
The weather has been hot, but you really do get used to it. Then again, not spending alot of time outside is a good way to beat the heat. But even when I go outside, I find it to be a dry heat, the kind where the sweat evaporates before you can really get soaked.
No one in Texas can drive. It is just that simple. It would be ok if the problem were just that they all drove too slow. Couple a 55 mph speed limit in most places with a populace who isn't used to travelling any faster than a bull can pull them, and you get a commute that is reminiscent of the video game Frogger. The real problem is sort of a cause and effect. For some reason, the civil engineers that designed the highway system here in the DFW metroplex were unaware that there are neither lakes nor mountains. It seems that when they drew the plans for each highway, they incorporated a number of S-curves and roundabouts that one would expect to find in Nepal, not America's flatland. So rather than taking a direct route east to west, north to south, the freeway system looks like a web woven by a drunk spider. As a result, it is VERY easy to miss your exit from highway to highway, as it may appear on the left or right side. Couple this unique thoroughfare with a group of people who are still trying to distinguish the brake pedal from the gas pedal, and you get a slow moving caravan of monster trucks and cadillacs travelling across mulitple lanes at a time, with no thought as to how this may effect people in those lanes....namely, ME! If I get cut off one more time, I am going to start taking advantage of Texas laws that allow open containers and concealed weapons. Speaking of which, can I just say real quick, there is a sign on the deli I eat at that prohibits the carrying of concealed weapons inside the restaurant without a permit. Just so we are clear, this means if you HAVE the permit, you CAN carry a gun when purchasing a reuben with a side of pasta salad. God knows, if it's one place you are going to be called on to draw, it's an establishment where everything comes with a pickle on the side.
I am in great shape. I workout every day, I eat right, I stay out of the bars. I am very happy with my health, and I am recommending to everyone that they focus on theirs. Admittedly, with a monotonous job with static hours and a life devoid of human contact, it is very easy for me to discuss the merits of this lifestyle. But there has to be room for exercise and healthy eating in all our lives, so I call on all readers to do 50 crunches tonight and skip dessert. OK, good luck with alllllllllllllllllll that......
Amy is working an IPO, and is spending all her time doing dilligence off-site. Let's just say, the witness protection program couldn't hide someone better than this. If anyone catches a glimpse of her on the freeway, throw her a wave for me. She will be out here next Sat, and the surprises I have in store limit my ability to share with you all my plans. Suffice it to say, good times!
I'm frustrated. My car partner is not interested in working extra hours. I would like to work 12 hours a day, but he is not even in the neighborhood of amenable to it. That means that I have a choice - I can either drive him home and stay home, or drive him home, then drive back to work to get an extra couple of hours in. This would put me in the gym at 10, and eliminate any chance I would have to relax. Its a toss up, so we'll see. The truth is, I have nothing keeping me from working extra, and the money is definitely a good enough incentive for me. I have big plans for that extra money, so I wish he would capitulate, or work something out with me. Im not holding my breath. But I can't help but feel like he is taking money out of my pocket. Am I way off here?
It's 11:30 pm, and it's closing in on bed time. With that, I will close with a bizarre exercise. I have chosen an incredibly annoying song, and I will now break down its lyrics. Look for much more of this, as it is high time bad musicians be held accountable for their awful songs:
I WOULD WALK 500 MILES
The Proclaimers
When I wake up, yeah I know Im gonna be,
I'm gonna be the man who wakes up next to you
(That's nice....)
When I go out yeah I know Im gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who goes along with you
(Ok, kinda suffocating...)
And If I get drunk, yes I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who gets drunk next to you
(So much for girls' night out....jeez, do you have friends?)
And if I haver whatever that means
I'm gonna be the man who's havering to you
(So basically you have to invent reasons to hang out together. Trust me, this girl needs space. It seems romantic, but she's just sick of you by now.)
But I would walk 500 miles
(Do you realize how far that is?)
And I would walk 500 more
(So you would walk a thousand miles.....why not just say that? And also, do you realize how far THAT is???)
To be the man who walked that thousand miles
To fall down at your door
(For a second, you had her. It seemed so sweet. But it's all about the recognition with you. "I'm not here to see you, I just want to be able to call myself the guy who walked hella far." By the way, of course you fell down, you were drunk and havering.)
When I'm working yeah I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who's working hard for you
(Wait, you went to work? But you only go out when she goes out. Do you guys work together?)
And when the money, comes in for the work I do
I'll pass almost every penny on to you
(Except for the few pence I set aside for booze and havers.)
When I come home yeah I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who comes back home to you
(She won't be there. Out with the girls finally!)
And if I grow old well I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who's growing old with you
("If" you grow old? Um, i think the concept of time comes into play here. By the way, why do people always preface photos with, "this is from when I was younger." ALL photos are of you when you were younger.)
And I would walk 500 miles (Yeah, you said that...)
And I would walk 500 more (Right, thousand miles. Why are you dating a girl who lives 1000 miles away? )
To be the man who walked that thousand miles
To fall down at your door
(You sleep in the same bed, and come home to her after work. Why are you so far away? Buy a plane ticket for crying out loud.)
Surrender (We do.)
Surrender (Oh god do we ever....)
When I'm lonely yes I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who's lonely without you
(You're 1000 miles away from your girl, of course you are lonely. And how could you POSSIBLY be lonely WITH her? You just aren't making sense at this point.)
When I'm dreaming yes I know I'm gonna dream
I gonna Dream about the time when I'm with you
(That's called a memory, not a dream. A dream would be imagining having a life.)
And if I get drunk, yeah I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man that gets drunk next to you
(Drunk again, huh? One of you has a drinking problem.)
And if I haver, whatever the heck that means
I'm gonna be the man who havers next you
(And addicted to havering. Where will it end?)
And I would walk 500 miles (Good god, more long distance walking. What are you, Forrest Gump?)
And I would walk 500 more (That's 1000 miles again. How far across is Scotland anyways? Can you even walk 1000 miles without passing her house three times?)
To be the man who walked that thousand miles
To fall down at your door
(Just thinking of walking 1000 miles makes me tired enough to fall down. And why fall down at the door? You made it all that way, and you can't wait to go 20 more feet to fall on the couch?)
Surrender
Surrender
When I'm lonely, yes I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man whos lonely without you
I'm gonna be the man whos coming home
(We've covered all of this.)
cause I would walk 500 miles
And I would walk 500 more
To be the man who walked that thousand miles
(What job do you have that lets you go walking for 3 weeks? Are you a postman by any chance?)
To fall down at your door
Surrender
Surrender
Surrender. (Done and........done.)
