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Bloody hell! Is it Friday yet!?

You see, Sean, the healing properties of the chili dog go waaaaaaaay back. It's an ancient remedy that predates accupressure, accupuncture, Tibetan reiki, feng shui, reflexology, hypnotherapy, quantum touch, aromatherapy, shiatsu, angel therapy, and the high colonic coffee enema. Oh yes... the mystical power within the chili cheese dog is a force to be reckoned with... don't fuck with grease. Here is a picture of me finding spiritual refuge and healing at a ancient monastery in the Nepalese Himalayan range after I got back from Nam... or maybe it's Manhattan... I forget.

Terrible lunch at Chin Tao. I feel even worse. I emailed my brother this morning. We haven't seen each other or spoken in 16 years. I think we saw each other for a few minutes then... before than, it had been 10 years. So, basically he is a complete stranger to me. I found his email address and sent him a letter. I want to know him. He's going to be 39 this year and I feel terrible that so much time has passed and we never knew each other as family. He is my half-brother from my father's first marriage. As far as I know, he is living in Dallas, so maybe we can see each other soon. I'd like that.

Started a Whoopass Entertainment group on YG. If you don't know about Whoopass Entertainment, go here first. Absorb it. Love it. Then go here. I am not feeling well... kinda dizzy. Maybe if I ate... hmm...

"Oh, you ready to blow? Well I'm a mushroom-cloud-laying motherfucker, motherfucker! Everytime my fingers touch brain I'm Superfly TNT, I'm the Guns of the Navarone." - Jules (Pulp Fiction)
I need to clean the house. Maybe I'll do that tonight. I used to love Weebelos. They melt though. It looks like today is the start of layoffs here in the office. I really don't think I am in the mix, but maybe this is my excuse to move to Europe. I am a little scatterbrained this morning. Perspective.

"Something new" (Wendy Colonna)
“All in good time,” she said to me,
“answers will find their way to the
gates of the mazes we wind ourselves up in like
corks through the haze of the wine that we wade in”

tonight, lie still
let them in to take their fill
who are we to give them something new?

Mothers and minions buy tickets for time
And wait at the windows for each shining dawn
The kiss of tomorrows can dangle before them like
Carrots for horses and stock cars for miles

tonight, lie still
let them in to take their fill
who are we to give them something new?

A lover a liar a fool and a fraud
Were dancing in turn to the muted applause
Making love in the mirrors blindfolded and robbed
By their own reflections their hands and their songs

All in good time, how I believed
The web would unwind and kisses sweet
Could steal the disease from the circus of silence
And brown paper dreams could retire in their violence

Tonight, lie still
Lock the doors, lights kill
Who are we to give them something new?
Who are we to give them something new?
______________

I went to dinner at Saltgrass with an old friend of mine from high school. Lauren and I have known each other since the 8th or 9th grade and have managed to keep in touch on and off ever since. I don't see her very often because she lives/works on the other side of town and she has two beautiful children to care for, but Logan and Leslie are out of town this week and we decided to have a catch-up dinner. We talk about everything that's been going on in each other's lives. She tells me all about her boyfriend problems and I tell her all about my no-girlfriend problems (lol). She was our reunion coordinator. I was in the Ionian Sea, so I couldn't make it in between Kosovo strike op sorties, but she managed to make a huge photo album of all the friends from the old days and send to me. A lot of the photos were of old school buds holding signs that said "we miss you clayton" and shit like that... very touching. Anyway, we go way back. She's my closest female friend. Anyhoo, we stopped for drinks after dinner and talked even more (if possible). I'm all talked out (oh, and buzzed) so it's off to bed. Is tomorrow Friday yet? These weeks are getting longer, I think...

SMG + FPJ = complete BS

I love Kara's post today.

I can't speak for the ladies, but 90% of men are filthy trolls. If you go to the bathroom (a notoriously filthy place anyway), wash your hands before leaving... with soap. It only takes an extra few seconds. It doesn't matter to me if you touch your cheerios or not... wash 'em. Take my word for it. If you shake hands with a man in public or allow him to touch you somewhere, you have about a 90% chance that he touched his cock-a-doodle-doo, wiped his bum, picked his nose garden, etc. WITHOUT washing his hands. You might as well grab something nasty on him, because it's the same thing. Absolutely saddening... the worst part is, adult males tend to get wierded out or angry when another grown man reminds them to wash their fucking dirty troll boy hands before leaving the head. Some even want to fight about it. Children. Every time I get bummed out about the bullshit that women make me deal with, I am going to think about you poor lasses out there... you deal with our man bullshit PLUS germs. I small speck of sunshine on an otherwise dreary subject. So, if you aren't one of us 10% out there that cares about personal hygiene... start washing your fucking hands in the bathroom. Everyone needs to take a first step in a better direction. In the mean time, I think I'll be hurling in the trash can in the corner.

My trash man is a sadist. If you don't have the trash on the curb before 6:30 or so on Tuesday morning, you get to hold your trash another week. Do real people get up that early? So invariably, I keep my trash 3 or 4 weeks. I suppose it's a good thing that I generate very little trash... especially the kind that stinks. I am sick... sorta. I don't feel sick, but my subcutaneous lymphatic system is swollen and sore... internal infection? I'll probably die... but then again, I've never been accused of being dramatic. Anyhoo, I slept well last night. I went to bed at like 8:00 and slept through until my demon alarm clock disturbed me this morning... too late to get the garbage out. All my neighbors put their trash on the curb the night before. I dig that because when I miss trash day a few times, I start putting my trash in their trash cans on the morning I actually get up to do it. What good neighbors I have... community team players. I think my fingers are going to cramp. I have been typing furiously at the command prompt for hours. Because I am not feeling well, I called in the carpool ticket to get a ride today instead of peddling. My carpool buddy, Joe, overslept... a lot. I woke him up at like ten 'til eight (normally when we arrive). No big deal to me... if I had time off for all the extra hours I've spent in the office since I started work there, I would live in a tropical paradise for a month with no routers, switches, servers, telephones, televisions, pagers, etc. in sight... just me, the ocean, the sand, scantily clad natives, little drinks out of coconuts, cool breeze... heeeelllllooooo clayton... back to reality. I am really looking forward to my next Sean visit... either me there or him here. It's like a break from reality and our daily routines and a walk through the nostalgic past. Oh, yeah... we bitch a lot too. You should see us... if it were possible for a couple of 30 year old bachelors to have PMS, you would swear we were experiencing it. He and I look a lot alike and always get the "are you guys brothers?" or "are you two twins?" bit when we are together. Our birthdays are only 3 days apart on the same year... both leos. Raaawrrr! We deal with a lot of the same social issues. This last visit, we made a pact to be more like each other. He is quiet and reserved... conservative in many ways. I am more of a social butterfly (or so I am told). I get crazy sometimes... I often am forward with strangers and like meeting new people in new places. I love trying new things. For being so much alike in many ways, we are equally opposite in others. So, we decided that I'll try to be more like him... and he'll try to be more like me. It's like an experiment. Based on the crazy fun we have together when he goes out with me, it's going to be a lot easier for him than it is for me, but I'll give it a shot. I'm really not feeling myself this morning... even with the 10 or so hours of sleep (I usually get less than 5). I called my Mom this morning. I really love her... she's the best Mom in the world if you ask me (me? bias? no!). I miss her. I am so busy with inconsequential things throughout my days that it's an effort to remember to call her just to tell her hi. She's the best. I know I keep pimpin' Xtracurricular, but dammit! Go visit the Whoopass site. Sean doesn't know it, but I'll own the company someday and so the sooner they become a household name, the better. The film is really coming along nicely and Sean's nanite sequence (when it's done) is going to be absolutely hilarious. The news site is updated (quasi) regularly, so why wait to be a fan. Go now!

Home at last. I think I've been on complete auto-pilot for hours. I'm going to snuggle up on the couch with my guitar and a drink and watch my consciousness float away.

Wow. I finally made it to lunch.

"Guy Forsyth is the bluest man I know." - me
What a fucking amazing show. He did a lot more slide guitar last night (varied styles... delta blues, roadhouse, etc.). He had a pianist that I had not seen before. Wendy Colonna was with him again. He did something that I don't think I have ever seen... and I was completely blown away. The band started this song and after the first verse, he put the mic down and stepped to the edge of the stage... hopped off... in the middle of the noisy, crowded blues bar, he started wailing this song out at the top of his lungs... his voice pierced through everything and it was perfect. Guy is amazing. Absolutely amazing. So, he walked around amongst the crowd, singing in front of people... loud enough for the entire bar to hear... no mic... just him. Then, while the band did some solo fun, he went behind the bar, did a shot, came back out and finished the song. I don't think word can do his performance justice. Later, he did the saw thing and even a song on ukulele (that was pretty funny). Sean and I even got to see stupid people tricks as drunk women kept trying to do these sexy dances for Guy in front of the stage and they would fall down. Now that's entertainment. The drunk men kept spilling their drinks all over the place... not quite as fun, but hey... I'm easily amused. I had to drive Sean back out to Lakeway after the show, but we got some coffee at Kirby Lane, so I was ok for a little while. I probably wouldn't have made it back alive if it weren't for the coffee (7-11 coffee sucks ass, but it has caffeine... woohoo!), ephedrine (those little "mega super hella energy diet heart workout" packs you can buy at the 7-11 register), Red Bull (need I explain?), sugar rush (I normally don't like sweets, but I needed some go juice), windows down, A/C on full blast (shrinkage... it's shrinkage!), and me singing at the top of my lungs for hours on the way home to my El Crapo brand rental car stereo. I made it in around 5:30 this morning. I had no voice, was all jittery from overload, and my eyes felt like someone pissed lemon juice in them, but I made it. I didn't get to bed right away because I had work (like actual job work) to address. I wasn't feeling well. I won't go into the details. I took a quick cat nap, took the car back, and headed into the office. Conference calls and a million emails later, here I am. I feel like hammered shit, but damn! Guy was excellent last night. I would kill for a hot bath, a glass of wine, and a cool, dark quiet room with no interruptions for about 2 days. Ho-hum... back to the grind.

Nighttime. Still in Austin. I have to work tomorrow. Shit. Oh well... you only live once, right? I'm gonna catch a Guy Forsyth show tonight before driving home in the wee hours. I hope I don't fall asleep. ;-) That would suck.