9-04 10-04 11-04 12-04 1-05 2-05 3-05 4-05 5-05 6-05 7-05 8-05 9-05 10-05 11-05 12-05 1-06 2-06 3-06
4-06 5-06 6-06 7-06 8-06 9-06 10-06 11-06 12-06 1-07 2/07 3-07 4-07 5-07 6-07 7-07 8-07 9-07 10-07 11-07 12-07 1-08 2-08 3-08 4-08 5-08 6-08 7-08 8-08 9-08 10-08 11-08 12-08 1-09 2-09 3-09 4-09 5-09 6-09 7-09 8-09 9-09 10-09 11-09 12-09 1-10 2-10
3-10 4-10 5-10 6-10 7-10 8-10 9-10 10-10 11-10 12-10 1-11 2-11 3-11 4-11 5-11 6-11 7-11 8-11 9-11 10-11 11-11 12-11 1-12 2-12 3-12 4-12 5-12 6-12 7-12 8-12 9-12 10-12 11-12 12-12 1-13 2-13 3-13 4-13 5-13 6-13 7-13 8-13 9-13 10-13 11-13 12-13 1-14 2-14 3-14 4-14 5-14

"I knew it, I'm surrounded by assholes." -Darth Helmet, Spaceballs.


Sunday, 6-29-14: Another fun weekend has almost passed!
It's Sunday early afternoon, and I'm pretty much in wind-down/recovery mode at this point. I'm not hungover, but I'm overall a little beat from Friday night and yesterday. I've had some GREAT weekends so far this spring and summer, and it's been another good one this time around.

On Friday Gav left town to go get some tail (I think?) so Tommy and I hung out at the house and had a few beers. Tommy showed up around 1900, and not too long after that Kelly sent me a text and said she wanted to hang out. She wanted me to go over to her place, but screw that I wasn't gonna bail on Tommy! So he and I had a fire and a few drinks before we ended up at Jester's. Jester's has been epic fun on Friday nights lately; there's a hot chick who does karioke down there so that is a definite plus. We hung out there for a while and then late-night we got the ENTIRE Jester's crowd to come back to the house for more fire and booze. It wasn't a ton of people, maybe 10 or so total, but it was a good crowd and a lot of fun. I even convinced the karioke check to come back. Win!

A couple vehicles were left at my place overnight because simps didn't wanna drink and drive, Kelly drove by on her way to work the next AM, and she texted me to ask wtf. I told her we had the whole bar back for late-night hanging out, but she seemed pretty pissed all the same. She sent me this "...Too bad you would prefer to drink and party rather than spend time together. Now your probably not feeling too good today." (It's YOU'RE, not YOUR. It gets it right or else it gets the hose again.)

All I wanna know is why? Why does she gotta not contact me all damn week, literally all week, and then wait until Friday at 1930 to send me a text and then get pissy when I already have plans? I actually didn't even finalize any plans until about an hour prior so if she had bothered to contact me sooner then I would have gone up to her place to hang out. The way I see it is she waited until the last minute so she probably had other plans that fell through or something and then it was time to see what Stevie-Boy was up to. Unfortunately, I was already busy by then.

So I got jack shit for sleep Friday night because we stayed up until about daylight. I got a mere few hours of sleep, but I didn't wake up hungover. Win! Gavin came back from his "broken booty call" in the morning as well so we met up at his place to finalize plans for doing something fun. Gav told me about his night prior. He paid for dinner, they went back to her place, and when it was time for bed he tried to make a move and she immediately said "stop crowding me." HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! What a bunch of crap! I've never met his on-again, off-again chick who lives two hours away, but she seems like a hot mess from the stories he tells. She was the one who wanted him to drive down there to see her, too. What a bunch of crap!

We rounded up Tommy, who had also stayed up until about daybreak at my house, and we decided to throw my raft into the Penobscot for an afternoon trip. Oh, speaking of Tommy, he made the best exit ever from my place late-night Friday. One of the simps who came back from Jester's was some 51-year old grandma (she was literally talking about her young grandson at the bar) who got drunk and who kept making subtle moves on both Tommy and I. She'd touch my arm in some kind of weird seductive way, but I wanted no part of that mess. I'm not pokerizing a 51-year old unless she's one in a million HOT, and the odds of even seeing one of those in this part of the world is worse than the odds of hitting the lottery that I don't ever play. What a bunch of crap!

So I DENIED this old chick (who was actually really nice, but just not someone I would ever want to wake up next to) she moved on to Tommy (again?) Tommy also wanted no part of that business so he said to her "I'm gonna help Steve put out the fire.", he went outside, and he literally did the Three Stooges Curly-style shuffle the hell out of there and around the side of the house as he went "wooo wooo wooo wooo." I was pretty loaded by that point, but I just barely remember it happening and it was frigging hilarious! Best exit of all-time, hands-down.

^Tommy obviously didn't punch anyone out, but the guy had me laughing to myself the next morning when I woke up and remembered it. Grandma ended up bivouaced on my couch. I had to give her a Red Sox blanket and a pillow. HAHAHAHAHA! Grandma was too drunk to even get her ass home. Kelly probably thinks I slept with her or something. What a bunch of crap!

So Gav, Tommy, and I had a fun raft trip from Old Town down to Brewer in the Penobscot that took up most of the afternoon yesterday, my phone was about toast so I turned it off, Kelly tried ot call me but I obviously didn't answer, so I think that made her even more pissed off at me? I sent her a txt at 1739 and told her we were rafting and I'd call later, but she didn't write back. Then I tried to call and she didn't answer and didn't call me back. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! OMG. I'm actually glad she didn't call me back because, fuck it. She's a great chick but we are NOT dating anymore and I can do whatever the hell I want. I obviously don't want to be a dick to her because she doesn't deserve that from anyone, but I don't feel like I was in the wrong for not seeing her Friday night when she waited so long to contact me.

Gav, Tommy, and I had a fire last night but our booze was going down "like mud" as Tommy/Gav put it. I think we were all kind-of beat from the night before and from rafting. I had a few drinks including some hideous monstrosity in a can that was Jim Beam and cola. (We hit up Tim's after rafting to stock up.) Tommy and I each had one at the same time, and we could barely get through half of our drinks before we both had to dump them out and get something better. It was one of the worst drinks I've ever had, and I'm not a picky drinker so that's really a statement. I almost never dump out booze. What a bunch of crap!


It was relaxing last night to just sit outside by the fire on a gorgeous night and listen to Dee Snyder's House of Hair show that gets broadcasted every Saturday night on WKIT 100.3. I woke up this morning not hungover but feeling pretty beat still. I skipped out on racquetball, and now it's already 1415 and Kelly still hasn't called me back. HAHAHAHAHAHA! I don't even care... if I care. I do care because I don't wanna be an asshole, but it would be better if her and I just ended things entirely because this shit where I move out and we're still kinda-maybe-partly-sometimes-something is not going to work in the long-term.

I'm single. I can do whatever the hell I want!

Next time I will write about our rafting adventure down the Penobscot, and about the one thing I fucked away that had both Gavin, Tommy, and I laughing so hard in the raft that we were literally crying. What an awesome weekend. Summers in Maine rule!

Thursday, 6-26-14: The World Cup.
All I wanna know is why? Why do people care so much about frigging soccer? Also, why do we call it soccer here in the USA when the rest of the world calls it football? All I wanna know is why? Why did that have to happen? I'd say we fucked that one up pretty badly since soccer is played predominantly with your FOOT. Instead we call "football" a sport that should really be called "Total awesomeness." because it makes soccer its bitch.

Soccer just sucks. They kick the ball all over the place and no one ever scores. It's like me out late-night if I try to pick up chicks. I never score and it's a bunch of crap! I flipped to ESPN to see a few minutes of Sportscenter after I watched some news and other crap during lunch, but the WORLD CUP was on. No prob, there's always ESPN2. Wrong! They had another faggot-ass soccer game on that channel as well. HEY ESPN I DO NOT WANT TO WATCH SOCCER TO GET IT THE HELL OFF OF MY TV SCREEN. WHAT A BUNCH OF CRAP!

So far the USA has one win and one loss in the WORLD CUP, but we will soon be pwned by some other, better country. Some countries really get into this soccer thing. One player got banned because he bit an opposing player. OMG. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

The winner of the WORLD CUP gets that crappy-looking trophy pictured above. What a piece of shit! What is it? Is it a cup? Is it ain ice cream cone? I would be embarassed to display that hideous monstrosity on my mantle, if I had a mantle, and if I had actual skills and could win a trophy at... anything. Gods damn it! That trophy seriously looks like a mash-up of a globe and the Ivory Tower from The Neverending Story:

It's like they puked a globe out, it landed directly on top of the Ivory Tower, and the tower couldn't take the pressa and had a giant blowout. If I ever got a stupid-looking trophy like that I'd just pray to the gods who do not really exist that the thing was pure gold so I could melt it down, turn it into a bar, and cash it in. However, it's probably just painted to look like gold or else coated with a fine layer of gold to give the illusion of high value. What a bunch of crap!

In conclusion, soccer sucks and if you disagree when me then I hate you. I probably hate you anyway, but I'll hate you a little more.

The Red Sox are 36-43, they suck, and their season is rapidly slipping away. Still over two months to go before real football starts up its season so maybe I should watch soccer... JK soccer SUCKS I'd rather watch paint dry!

*Edit: I just found out the USA lost its game today to Germany. (It's okay for the Germans to beat us at soccer as long as they don't beat us at war.) The USA has won one WORLD CUP game and lost two WORLD CUP games yet we get to move on to the next round. WTF, over?

Wednesday, 6-25-14: I need about $100,000.
I guess I need to work for as long as it takes to earn about $100,000 in wages (not including income from my bootleg rental property business.) That number is very rough, but it feels kinda right. After that hopefully I can just putter around and do the rental properties along with some seasonal wage-work and whatever the hell I feel like doing. Unfortunately, it will take a while to earn that much from "real' jobs. Like, years. What a bunch of crap!

Even worse, that $100,000 number is my after-tax goal. It's my take-home pay. That means I really need to earn $130,000 since 25-35% goes to Uncle Sam and the state for my citizen fee (taxes, social insecurity, etc.) What a bunch of crap! I take home about $300 a week at UPS so at my current pace I'd need to work there for another 333 weeks to hit my personal and arbitrary lottery. That's 6.41 more years. Fuck that!

It seems unlikely that I will continue to take home $300 a week much longer because I hate my job at UPS and I don't see myself lasting there as a part-time supervisor for another 6.41 years. However, if I do stick around then I get more pay at Christmas when I work more hours, and I'd probably get a couple raises along the way, so I guess 5.5 years would really get me to goal if I do stick it out. Plus if I blueberry rake and make $1000 each year then maybe I can drop the countdown to five years. Not bad!

Why $100,000 you ask? If my current life situation doesn't turn upside down (another romantic excursion to Georgia?!) then the money I earn from working at a "real" job can go towards paying off most of my house and I can live off my rental property income. I owe $124,000 on my house now, but in a few years I'm sure it will be closer to $100k. Plus I'll almost have my first rental property paid off in a few years. I "only" owe $33,710 on that single-family house with about six years left on that note. Paying off my first rental property will truly be epic and I can't wait for it to happen. Paying off my house will be epic, too. Then I can live for cheap and blow all my money on vacations, booze, and hookers!

I've been looking at the job listings in case something good pops up, but so far I've seen crap, crap, and more crap. I can get by without a "real" job, but it would suck. A lot. I wouldn't have extra money to go blow at Jester's! I do still think I will end up either working as a preloader at UPS (bring on the demotion!) or else leaving the company entirely so I need to gear myself up for a decrease in weekly pay and an increase in the number of years that I have to work a "real" job... gods damn it!

I seem to do better in life when I have goals to accomplish, something to work towards, so I like this $100,000 number. I'm gonna make a spreadsheet and enter every dollar of take-home pay that I earn beginning this coming Friday, and then one day when I'm at $100,000 (2019? 2029? Never?) I can "win." However, by then the cost of living will have doubled so I will probably be pwned and need to make a new goal. What a bunch of crap!

Bob Dunn, my 'tardo foundation contractor, is so desperate for work right now that he's offering me a deal that would be hard to refuse so I'm about to drop another $3800 for 27 feet of foundation wall at my duplex around the corner. Gods damn it! How am I supposed to retire from having a "real' job when I keep pumping money into my bootleg rental property business? Bob sucks, but if I don't pay him too much up front then he will have incentive and actually do a fast job. I don't question the quality of his work, but I do question the timliness of it.

Sigh. I'm gonna go give Bob a check for 20% down ($800-ish), make him draw up a contract, and then shed a metaphorical tear for my disappearing precious... precious money. I don't even have an extra $3800 lying around right now, but I'll cook it up because that is a good deal.

My frigging house isn't even done yet. I should go work on that for a bit today before I eat supper and bivouac.

Goonies never say die!

Saturday, 6-21-14: The worst job I've ever had in my life? (continued from yesterday.)
When I left off yesterday I had written about the jobs I had as a kid and then my job in the Navy. I've been thinking about all the differrent jobs that I had in my life because I'm trying ot figure out how much my current UPS job really sucks when I compare it to my past exeriences.

The Navy transitioned my ass from kid to *mostly* adult, and once I got out of the Navy in August of 1998 I had just a couple weeks to drive across the country from near Seattle to Warren, to move my ass up to the Bangor area, and to start school at UMaine's Orono campus. The bootleg apartment that Doug, Jon, and I found was a wreck in need of a lot of cleaning and painting so we got a rent discount from Ron, our new landlord slumlord for doing the work ourselves ($75 off the $545 monthly rent if I recall correctly.) I didn't know the area at all so I found my way to Wilson Street here in Brewer, I saw a sign for ACE Hardware, but I was in the wrong lane so I continued just a bit further down the road until I found Aubuchon Hardware. There we got paint (reimbursed costs by Ron as well), a carpet-cleaning machine, and other related supplies. I also spotted a "HELP WANTED" sign so I grabbed an application and dropped it off later that day or the next day, whenever we brought that cleaning machine back.

A day or two after I dropped off the application Roger, the manager, called me in for an interview. The interview was fairly informal and he hired my ass for part-time work, 25-30 hours a week, starting pay $6.00 an hour. Awesome! It was my first "real" job, and I learned how to run a cash register and a lot about hardware. I worked at Aubuchon's here in Brewer for my first year as a college student, and in the summer of 1999 I got a sweet raise up to $6.25 an hour. Score! I went blueberry raking that summer, and then in the early fall I was recruited by one of the managers, Tim, for the still-under-construction Circuit City in Bangor. Tim came into Aubuchon to buy paint, he was impressed by me, and he suggested I check out Circuit City. By that point I was getting sick of Aubuchon anyway so I did follow up on the Circuit City opportunity. I remember going to the Circuit City interview in shorts and a tee shirt, but they hired my ass anyway.

So I worked at Aubuchon for about a year, and I have no regrets about doing that job. The pay wasn't great, but I was in college and I lived cheap with Doug and Jon as roommates so I didn't give a shit. It was my beer money! I'm glad I worked there because I learned so much about paint, hardware, plumbing, electrical, etc. It turned out to be a good foundation on which I was able to build once I became a slumlord years later. Funny the apartment we once moved into and signed a lease for $545 a month is now fetching almost twice that amount and my office sits directly below that very apartment in the same building!

Circuit City opened later in the fall of 1999, and I was a commissioned "sales counselor" in their computer department. I didn't even own a computer when I started that job, and I had a VERY limited knowledge of computers so I thought it was hilarious they wanted me to be a computer salesman. HAHAHAHAHAHA! Despite my limited technical knowledge of computers I was able to excel and make a shitload of money at that job, and I loved it. LOVED IT. My pay more than doubled from what I was making at Aubuchon, and I still lived for cheap and was frugal so it worked out great. I lasted over 3 years at Circuit City, but then the business started to falter, it started to suck working there due to various bullshit, and they laid me off along with 2000 other sales people around February 2003. Getting laid off was a bunch of crap, but I got a good severance package and I was tired of working there anyway so in the end I won out. Circuit City was a GREAT job for most of the time that I worked there; it's definitely NOT a candidate for "worst job ever." My final year working at Circuit City I made over $40,000 and I was still going to college. Funny I haven't had a job where I've made over $40,000 in one year ever since. What a bunch of crap!

^Company failed and went out of business. Best buy kicked their ass!

After Circuit City I was unemployed for about 3 months, but I had to finish up college and I had plenty of money so that was okay. Then, in May of 2003, I got hired as a part-time evening "outbound" manager at FedEx Ground in Bangor. There I stayed for over 7 years, and overall it was a great job for me. I was able to start my rental property business thanks to the FedEx imcome, and I have no regrets about working there. I actually went back to FedEx for preload seasonal work a couple times, and that shift sucked quite a bit of ass. However, it wasn't as bad as UPS!

I got done on the outbound at FedEx because I was sick of working in the evening, not getting home until 1930-2000 or even later. Plus I hooked up with Kristen from Georgia in 2010 so I decided to break up the monotony of my life by trying someting new. The Kristen experiment was a colossal failure, but I don't regret it because it put me on a new and better path in life. I lasted a whopping nine days down in Georgia with Kristen before coming back to expand my rental property business in the fal of 2010. I also started a tax course at Liberty Tax, and that led to a seasonal job as a tax preparer for three winters, 2011, 2012, and 2013. I enjoyed working at Liberty Tax; hopefully I will get the chance to be a tax preparer again next winter!

I guess that just about sums up all the jobs I've had in my life. Oh, I did run some porn sites back in 2003-2004, but that doesn't really count as a job, does it? It was more of a side project that fizzled out. I raked blueberries for several different individuals as well, but as I wrote yesterday, I love blueberry raking. My rental property business is a job these days, but I love doing that as well and often times it doesn't feel like a "real" job even though it definitely is. When you work for yourself then everything seems differrent as compared to working for "the man" as an employee. Self-employment rules! So does seasonal work. One day in the near future I will only do seasonal work and the rental properties. I hope!

Oooohhhh... this is a pretty good song. Dream Academy, The Edge of Forever. I got it from a great 80s website that I plan to write about soon. The site has all kinds of rare 80s gems, many of which I've never even heard before (like this song.)

Out of all the jobs that I've had in the past it's hard to say which one was my least favorite. At times I loved them all, but at times I hated them all. Even blueberry raking sucks when it's a shitty crop and/or a bad row. I guess the FedEx preload sucked pretty hard because it was so early, and it was Tuesday-Saturday. However, the FedEx outbound was great. Definitely a love-hate thing going on there.

That brings me to the here and now, my UPS job that I've now had for 13 months. On occasion I've been okay with the UPS job, but for the most part it fucking totally sucks a bag of ass. A giant bag of ass! That job is pretty much the equivalent of 10 pounds of shit stuffed into a 5 pound bag on most days. What a bunch of crap! The managers there all drink the corporate Kool-Aid, and some of the managers there probably help manufacture the stuff. The workers are all in the Union so that fucking sucks as well. Sometimes I'll roll up my proverbial sleeves to help out, but then I can't because I'm not allowed to do "hourly" union work except for certain situations. My manager has unrealistic expectations, he's a bit of a douchebag, and he's a cocky and overconfident fuck a lot of the time. The manager above my boss is even worse!

^Worst job I've ever had in my life? NO FUCKING DOUBT ABOUT IT!

In conclusion, my job at UPS is a toilet. It fucking sucks. What a bunch of crap! Too bad because the pay and benefits are good. I guess I should talk to my boss soon and tell him that I either want to get done or else get a "demotion" and just be a worker. Being a worker would cut my pay by $4 an hour and I'd work fewer hours each week, but it would be worth it. Unfortunately, I'd have to be in the gods damned Union. That sucks, but I could tolerate it because I do enjoy loading trucks. Being a loader > being a supervisor. By a lot. A LOT.

My boss is on vacation next week and the week after that is the 4th of July so it's a shorter work-week. After that is 3 or 4 more weeks until blueberry raking. Maybe I'll just suck it up and stay on as a supervisor until the fall. Or maybe another, better job will present itself to me and I will leave UPS entirely. Maybe my boss will read this, bring me in the office, and Vince McMahon my sorry ass (You're FIIIIIIIIIIIIIRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!) Either scenario works for me.

I guess I should go work on my bootleg house now. It's already 1300 so I need to get my ass motivated! Tomorrow I won't work on it because I'm playing racquetball in the AM and then probably going to Kelly's in the PM to help her with some household crap. Then Monday it's back to the UPS grind, revielle at 0230 for a 0300 start time... what a bunch of crap! (If I was a regular worker I'd get to start an hour later!)

Friday, 6-20-14: The worst job I've ever had in my life?
I wonder how many jobs I've actually had in my life? I wonder what the worst one of all-time was/is? Right now my vote goes to my current UPS role, but I should take a look back and see how it really compares.

I forget how old I was when I got my very first paying job, but my guess would be 12 or 13? We grew up in a relatively rural area in the midcoast, down in Warren. Our neighbor who lived two houses down, Art Ludwig, had a sizeable amount of property that he often poached and trapped on, and he also had some blueberry land that needed to be harvested each year. Funny side-story about Art's illegal traps, one year we were playing way out back in Art's woods when Jason stepped into one of Art's small-game traps. The trap latched right onto his boot so he had to hobble his ass all the way back to the house so Pop could remove it. HAHAHAHAHA!

Art was an aswesomely hilarious old-timer Mainer, and he had us neighborhood kids out in his blueberry fields "getting dem booberries." He paid a whopping $2 a bucket back in the late 80s/early 90s, and one day I raked 36 buckets and considered myself to be a very wealthy teenager. $72, cash. It took me all damn day from early morning until dusk, but I did take some breaks in the day. I definitely didn't rake any 36 buckets on my very first year, but it's been too long and I really can't remember how I did or even how old I was when I raked my very first bucket of blueberries.

Funny that my childhood experience with the blueberry harvest has stayed with me and I still do it all these years later. Gavin and I are already counting down the weeks for this coming season (6 weeks to go!) and we've already reserved our campsite so it's just about a lock that I'm raking again soon. I absolutely love blueberry raking; it might be the best job that I've ever had in my life. How screwed up in the head do I have to be to say that? I love working outside in nice weather, being tan, getting exercise, and making pretty good money when I drop the hammer. There is no better feeling in this world (besides sex with a hot chick) than dominating a good row of blueberries, earning a good day's pay, getting a TON of exercise, and then relaxing by a campfire at the end of the day with a little bit of booze and a heaping plate of food.

Blueberry raking would suck badly if it was a year-round job, though. A week or two every year is enough for me. Doing that crap all year would ruin my body, especially my back, in no time at all.

So raking was my first job, ever. My guess is I learned that trade 25-ish years ago. Wow! I raked for Art a few times as a kid and at least once when I was home on leave from the Navy. I also spent some time during at least a couple summers working for Jeff belmore at Spear Farms in Warren. That job was 3 or 4 miles away so I rode my bike to work. I'd pick beans or peas for Jeff, depending on when the crops were ready. I forget how much I made for Jeff, but I know I was paid "under the table" just like when I worked for Art. Cash ruled back then! I think I got around 2 or 3 bucks a bucket for beans and peas, and the pay wasn't as great as raking pay. I'm thinking I averaged closer to 4 or 5 bucks an hour. One day Jeff paid me minimum wage ($4.25 an hour!) to weed one of his big-ass green bean fields. Oh Jesus, hell ya!

I loved working for Jeff at Spear Farms because I seem to thrive on a piecemeal wage rate of pay. Getting paid for the work that I actually do keeps me 100% motivated. Plus there was a guy who worked with us one year at Spear Farms who reminded me of Lenny from Of Mice and Men. He was a brick or two shy of a load, a few fries short of a Happy Meal, and he was hilarious. "I got my number one bucket-full." was his oft-quoted expression, and I swear ot the gods who do not really exist that I still use that expression to this very day.


OMG! That place has been in business forever, and they even have their own bootleg website. Jeff, my one-time employer, still plows Mom and Pop's driveway in the winter. He's plowed that driveway since... forever! Literally since the early 80s.

Glass Tiger, Someday, extended mix. This is one of the best 80s songs ever made.

So far I've wasted about 20 minutes of my life, 5 minutes of yours, and I haven't even written about any of the jobs that I've had past the age of 17 yet. This update is gonna take forever. What a bunch of crap! No way I'm finishing this one today, not when I still need to use the gym, go get an inspection sticker for the truck (mine expired in November, 2013. What a bunch of crap!), buy some mulch, get some beer, and then cook burgers and drink those beers with Gav on his porch next door...

Besides blueberry raking and picking beans and peas at Spear Farms I didn't have any other school-age jobs. After I graduated high school in 1993 I worked that final summer for Art and Jeff before starting boot camp in the fall of that year. I was officially a sailor! In the Navy, I could sail the seven seas...

My "job" in the US Navy lasted from November, 1993 to August, 1998, and I don't know how to rate it on the love-hate scale? I hated a lot of it and, at the time, I would have said "This is the worst job I've ever had in my life!" However, it was an experience that made me mostly grow up and learn a lot about the world. I led a pretty sheltered youth. Like, so sheltered that I'd never gotten tail or even gotten drunk! My parents weren't overbearing bible-thumpers or anything weird like that. They were great! It was just a rural upbringing combined with my being a fairly awkward young Rambo. I went on a couple dates, one at the senior prom and then a second date with the same girl a week or two later, but then she hauled on me for an upgrade... or something. I don't remember because I'm too old for that shit. What a bunch of crap!

So being in the Navy allowed me to experience the world, to see real-life cowboys and thugs, to get drunk, to get a little bit of tail, to experience cultures, etc. I worked for some severe mother fuckers when I was aboard the USS Carl Vinson, and sometimes I worked long and hard, but I made some great friends and now I have the resume-bullet and no student loans from college thanks to Uncle Sam's GI Bill. I'd call that a win!

^The USS Carl Vinson, my home ship for four years from 1994-1998. That job sucked way worse than raking for Art and picking beans and peas for Jeff, but it wasn't the worst job that I've ever had. It was terrible at times, but it made me man up! My time in the Navy was actually about 100 jobs crammed into one tour of duty. I was a swabbie, I painted, I cleaned, I worked in the air traffic control center (CATCC), I kept track of fuel states, I did time in the mess hall, I supervised firewatches, I scraped rust from crawl-spaces and fan-rooms, etc. etc.

I'm out of time for today, but next time I'll write more about my post-Navy jobs and hopefully get all the way up to my current job at UPS. Meanwhile, GOONIES NEVER SAY DIE!

Thursday, 6-19-14: I should be outside.
The weather is perfect today; I should go back outside. Right now it's 100% sunny, 75 degrees, breezy, and not humid at all. I already mowed a lawn and fixed a leak before lunch, and now it's only 1235 so I have plenty of time left to do more work outside. First I wanna update this bootleg site and enjoy some 80s tunes, though!

Gavin and I are chatting online, talking shit about our useless foundation contractor, Bob Dunn III. That guy almost does good but then he fails at life again and again and again. What a bunch of crap! Last week we thought he was gonna totally bail on the work that he had left for both Gavin and I, but thankfully he showed his ass back up to get stuff done. Now Gavin's place is almost done. It's literally been 2.5 months since Bob started over at Gavin's place so there's just no acceptable excuse considering a good contractor would have had it done in a couple weeks, maybe three tops.

Bob has 99% of my stuff done so I'm not really burdened, but it would be nice to get the last 1% done this year. All he has left is a skim-coating on 30-ish feet of interior wall at one of my duplexes around the corner. When he back-filled it late last fall he did a relatively poor job so I had to spend a while there Tuesday afternoon evening out the rough ground and moving a few piles of leftover dirt and rubble. Bob Dunn can kiss my hairy ass! (I'll probably hire him again in the future because he's cheaper than a "real" contractor!)

^Last fall at my aforementioned duplex. The city was on my ass like stink on shit because it took Bob so long to get it done and then to back-fill the remaining hole. What a bunch of crap!

In other news, we might have to send more of our military back to Iraq because it's a shit-show over there again. Some terrorist supergroup who call themselves ISIS has taken over the northern part of Iraq, and the pussy-ass Iraq army can do two things about it: nothing and like it. Many of the troops actually took a third option: give up and run away. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! The sooner we perfect alternative energy sources like solar and wind the better. Then we will have no reason at all to give a crap about their shitty region of this planet.

Silver is up over $20 an ounce again after being closer to $19 for most of the spring. I'd love to buy more to add to my collection, but I only have so much money and what I do have needs to go to more important things like mortgage payments, tax bills, beer, food, etc. One day in the not-too-distant future I bet silver will be at least double what it is now. Then I'll be glad that I own what I have and I'll be pissed at myself for not owning even more!

I hate working at UPS. It's the worst job I've ever had in my life. My job as a supervisor totally blows because, as I joked with Tommy earlier today, you just can't win. It is impossible to not have packages stacked out all over the place, to have a "clean" wrap, and to get all my stuff done during the sort. Tommy was joking about the chick working across the belt from him that she was one Tetris piece away from losing the game. She had packages stacked out all over the damn place and higher than our heads. It was a total shit-show, and there were two things I could do about it: nothing and like it. I told Tommy to just accept the fact that you can never win UPS Tetris; you just have to survive and stay in the game until around 0925-0930 when the drivers get there to take over and to clean up the aftermath.

^UPS Tetris. You can't win and you can't ever totally clean off your "board." Most of the pieces are brown, and there's never a good place for the long skinny ones. What a bunch of crap!

I need to talk to the boss soon about getting a demotion (promotion as I call it!) and just being a loader like what Tommy does. Then he'd probably outrank me! We could load trucks on the same belt and just make fun of the place while we struggle to stay alive in the real-life game of Tetris!

Or I'll keep looking at job listings and just leave the company entirely...

Wednesday, 6-18-14: Jester's fun.
Let's start this bootleg update off with some Pandora Internet Radio, "80s Pop Radio." This channel is pretty much my default, although I do often end up on "Pop/Hair Metal" as well. Today Bruce Hornsby and the Range starts us off with Mandolin Rain from their debut album, The Way it Is. Great tune, great album! If you don't like Bruce Hornsby then I hate you. I probably hate you anyway, but I'll hate you just a little more.

^1986. One of the best albums of all-time, beotches.

Last Friday Gav, Tommy, and I ended up down at Jester's after we had a few beers at our old apartment and what is currently still Tommy's place. I bought a used bike for $100 from a tenant who was having a yard sale about a week and a half ago so last Friday I put it to good use by riding my ass the 1/3 of a mile from my house over to here. It must have been funny seeing me riding up the main road with a Hannaford bag full of beers on my "new" bike. The trip took me about three minutes (could have done it in 2 if I was in a hurry!)

Jester's was awesome Friday night. The place was actually crowded when we first got there, but eventually it thinned down to a more acceptable level of simps. There's a hot chick who hosts karioke, and she played Goonies R Good Enough after I jokingly requested that song. (NO, I didn't sing it on the mic. F that!) She knew the lyrics and said she loves the Goonies. AWESOME. The highlight of the night was seeing this "Father John" character again, though. A couple weeks ago this happened:

"We got a fire going, and some preacher-looking slapnut ended up back and the house with us. His attire could not be explained. He was seriously wearing this shirt that made him look like a man of faith. I think it even had a cross on it? What a bunch of crap! He said he could get a bunch of chicks back to my house, I was tempted to say "hell yeah!" to that, but then I realized I didn't even care... if I cared so I said no thanks and shortly after that I bivouaced. I woke up at 0615 and Doug was still drinking with Tommy, but Tommy had stopped drinking because he had to sober up and get ready for his UPS orientation. He's hired at UPS! (I think?) Hopefully he gets to work for me on the west belt. That would be cool!"

Tommy actually did start working at UPS 1.5 weeks ago and he's been working on my west belt with me. Awesome! Hopefully he sticks around for a while over there because I need him to help me keep my sanity. One day he and I can both be grunts when I get my "promotion" that I haven't asked the boss for just yet... (I want to drop down a notch and just be a worker instead of a supervisor.)

Anyway, that preacher-looking dude apparently made a few inappropriate moves on Doug's friend, Chelsey, when we had that fire a couple weeks ago. From what she said he had his hands on her a little too much, and he did it right out by the fire in front of Doug. What a bunch of crap! I guess he was sneaky about it. Then, at some point later in the night, he was so drunk that he fell INTO the fire pit. OMG! Thankfully he didn't burn to death or I would have had legal troubles. I slept through all those late-night antics, but I did get to see the aftermath when I saw "Father John" again Friday night.

The dude said a friendly hello to us down at Jester's, and he said he had a blast with us on 80s night and then after at my house. He said he owed me a lawn chair since the one he was sitting in fell apart, but I told him no worries because the chair was screwed up anyway. Then I asked him about his supposed trip into the fire, and he showed us his "battle scars." First were some ugly-looking burn-marks on his forearm and wrist area and then was the best part, an ace bandage on his lower back covering a really nasty-looking burn. He told us that when he fell into the fire his jeans melted to his ass.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! OMG THE GUY'S PANTS LITERALLY MELTED TO HIS ASS. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! He had to go get bandages and shit, and when he showed us the aftermath it was obvious he was not lying. that fire puts out some serious heat, especially after it's been going for a few hours and there is a molten bed of coals at the base. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

The dude deserved it for feeling up Chelsey late-night. Karma, beotch!

So we got to see Father John's injuries that he deserved, the hot karioke chick played Goonies R Good Enough, and that was a win for the night in my world. There was a cross-dressing guy there (again), there were a couple 75-80yr old looking men there (inconceivable!), and the bartender once gave one of my friends a blowjob in exchange for a camcorder back in about 2003. HAHAHAHAHAHA! Jesters. That cannot be explained.

The weather wasn't so great over the past weekend, but Sunday turned out good enough. Kelly and I went hiking down near Maiden's Cliff off Rt. 52 in Camden and then we went and visited Mom and Pop for a ncie lunch at their place. As an added bonus it was Father's Day so I did my duty as a good son. Mom and Pop must really be wondering wtf when it comes to me and my love-life. Kelly and I "broke up", I bought my own house, and then only a few weeks later she's going hiking and over to my parents with me. That cannot be explained either! Kelly and I are still friends and I know Mom and Pop want me to just marry her and get it right. Too bad for them I'm okay with emotionally failing at life. Everyone needs to fail at something in order to enjoy other successes more, right?

(That last sentence cannot be explained. What a bunch of crap!)

Friday, 6-13-14: The cellar floor is in.
Bob, my lazy-sack-of-shit foundation and concrete contractor, finally poured the floor in my precious... precious cellar gym yesterday. I got a pretty good deal on it, and I was focused on working on my own house so I didn't care too much that he took forever to make it happen. He was seriously supposed to do it about six or seven weeks ago now. What a bunch of crap! The guy is a nincompoop for sure, but he does possess knowledge that I do not have so I've done a bit of business with him again this year. (In the fall of last year I swore to the gods who do not really exist that he was FIRED from working for me again!)

The cellar floor looked like this yesterday right after the pour:

^Not too shabby! It's far from perfect, but that's my own fault for not doing the prep like I should have.

He actually poured the sides 1.5 or two months ago so it was done in two stages. I removed all the concrete and dirt from the old floor myself to save money. So far I've given Bob $260 for that job, and that's mostly just for the concrete, so I've gotten a great deal. Bob knows he owes me because he screwed off at a job of mine for a good part of last year plus I've gotten him other work.

This year Gavin also hired Bob to do major foundation renovations right across the street at his new apartment building. A massive chunk of old foundation was removed beginning April 1st or so, and now 2.5 months later that job is still not done. What a bunch of crap! Thankfully for Gav it's almost done, but still not a good way to start off in a place. Gavin literally owned the building for less than a week when he hired Bob for the work. I helped Bob get that work, and I helped Gav get a better price, so I feel like it's partially my fault that Gav's place isn't done yet.

What sucks about Bob is his ability to budget his money and his failure to meet any deadlines. He'll always be begging for more money, and he'll tell you he'll be there Monday to finish something then he no-shows. What a bunch of crap! Not a good way to run a business, that's for sure. Bob will probably be out of business soon; he told me yesterday that he has no work lined up and this is supposed to be his busy season. He pretty much blew off all his customers up this way to go do some $15,000 job down at Branch Lake near Ellsworth over the last month. Unfortunately for Bob, he said he didn't even make money on that job. HAHAHAHAHAHA! EPIC FAIL! Plus he pissed off his customers up here and now his name is MUD. Too bad for him because I will need a lot more foundation work done in the years to come.

I hate it when droolbucket contractors fail at life. I've had a couple contractors work for me in the past who have totally sucked. They try to get most or all of the money up front, you give it to them because they promise you the world, and then nothing gets done after that. Lesson learned, that's for sure. Thankfully Bob finished up my floor (I paid him $200 for it back in April!) but I'm still a little nervous about him finishing up Gavin's place. I'd say Gav's place is 80-90% done now, but all the debris still needs to be hauled off. Hopefully Bob doesn't really go out of business until AFTER he finishes up Gavin's place. Bob also has a tiny amount left to finish at my duplex around the corner from here, but if I had to I could do that myself in a couple hours for about $30 in materials. Bob said he'd finish that up soon and I think he will. (The interior wall needs a coat of "pilaster" or whatever that coating-stuff is called.)

Well it's officially my weekend now on this glorious Friday afternoon. Actually, rain is coming soon so there's nothing glorious about it. I suppose I will use my gym, remove the CAUTION tape from my freshly-poured new cellar floor here, and maybe take a nap. The floor has cured for over 24 hours so it's okay to walk on now. However, I won't put anything on it for at least 48 hours. I might not even put anything on it for weeks since the only other gym equipment that I possess is all stolen stuff that I have to give back. What a bunch of crap!

Speaking of that stolen equipment, the guy who stole it and hocked it to Monkey (who then hocked it to me) pleaded guilty in court or before his court date or whatever so I don't have to drive down to Rockland to testify. Score! I'm gonna get the $500 back that I paid for the stuff, but I have to give all the stuff back so that sucks. A lot. The owner actually has to drive up here and get everything since I'm not going down there to deliver it. F that! I guess at some point once the dust settles from the court outcome I will have to talk to the owner again and we can figure it out. I'm sure the owner will demand that I bring it all down to him, but he can want in one hand and shit in the other and see which one fills up faster... Hopefully I can just give the $500 restitution that I'm getting to the guy and he will let me keep everything! I'd even give him some of the useless stuff back for free like this piece of shit:

That hideous monstrosity is a device used for rehabbing/strengthening rotator-cuffs. I guess, from what Tommy found online about it, it has great use for athletes like a football quarterback or a baseball pitcher, someone rehabbing an injury. However, since I am a cyborg I do not need to rehab anything and I want that bootleg thing out of my life. It's a bunch of crap!

Funny story about that machine pictured above. Once I had it all assembled and realized that we all hated it I put it on Craigslist for $150 or so. That's how the original owner found me! He saw my ad, he called, and then it was obvious the stuff had been stolen from him. D'oh!

I really want to keep this machine:

It's a great tool for isolating lats and back muscles (with a side of arms and shoulders.) you put olympic plates on the left side, you sit facing the plates with your chest against the vertical padding and your ass on the seat, and you pull the handles towards you in a rowing motion. Great machine that has become a staple in my gym and I'm hoping to find a way to own it forever.

Alright chumps, all two of youz, I am going to get the hell out of here. After I get my swell on maybe I will work on my house for a bit. I worked on it for a whopping two hours yesterday, and I got the ceiling trim im the bathroom installed. Today I'll probably work on it for an hour or two and then run out of time again. I'll work on it some tomorrow and then go hiking and to the midcoast on Sunday with Kelly. Then it's back to the grind at UPS early Monday... gods damn that job!

Thursday, 6-12-14: I should check the job listings.
I got Tommy a job at UPS. Sweet! I even used what little influence I have over there to get him onto my west belt as my trainee. It's a risk because if he sucks at the job then I'm a dink for recomending a FFI. (Failure to follow instructions.) Thankfully so far this week he has done a great job. Every summer and every fall we hire temporary slapnuts, and it sucks getting them all trained and working at what we call the "UPS pace." Plus, on top of that, we have to fill out these stupid green training books. Doing the books takes for-frigging-ever. Normally us part-time supervisors just wing it on the books, but this season the boss is making us do them 100%. What a bunch of crap!

So far I've trained maybe five new people in the past couple or three weeks out of the dozen-ish that have started there. Most of the new people are doing a good enough job, but training takes up most of my precious... precious time. I have other responsibilities that I barely have time to get done, if I can get them done at all, so most days I have to fail at something. I just run out of time. Scancheck 1000 packages? Have not done that in a friggin' month! Today I got 272 scans... hehehehe.

Thankfully the boss hasn't been too much of a dink about the fact that we fail to meet goal every day, but I know one day he will get pissy and I will tell him to go fuck himself. I found out that the temporary loaders start out at $11 per hour, which is less than what I make now, but it's still pretty good and I'm really tempted to request a "demotion." I enjoy loading the trucks, I'd only have to work 3.75 or 4 hours a day instead of the 5.5 that I work now, and it would be a lot more stress-free. Too bad I make an extra $100 a week as a supervisor than I'd make as a loader so nevermind for now!

Another drawback to requesting a "demotion" is I'd have to be in the Union. Man, that would suck! The Union is one of the reasons why I think UPS sucks. It would be hypocritical of me to become a Unionized worker, but I eventually might do it anyway because it would only be part-time and what do I care? It's just a paycheck.


I should look at the job listings and see what else is out there. If I can last a few more years at UPS then I'm set up to win at life, but that job kinda blows and I'm not sure I'll make it that long. It's probably the worst job that I've ever had in my life. My boss isn't a terrible leader, but he has plenty of douchebag moments. My boss's boss is a total dink; thankfully I don't see him that often because if I had to work directly for his ass then I already would have quit and/or gotten fired.

Okay, I'm back after about 5 minutes of looking on Craigslist. Nothing looks good so I guess I'll just stick it out. Six more years until my first rental property is paid off... 13 months down at UPS, 72 to go! I actually can pay off my first rental property without the UPS job, but having the extra income allows me to do extra fun stuff. One day my boss might find this site and if that happens then I'm getting a pink slip for sure. What a bunch of crap!

I get a paid vacation, my first week of vacation since I started that UPS job, in about 7 weeks. That gives me something to look forward to. Gav and I will be blueberry raking again so I can hopefully make some decent money. Then I can reduce the UPS countdown by a month or so. If I blueberry rake every year for the next six years then I'll "only" have to work at UPS for 66 more months. Hehehe.

In other news, the Red Sox have fallen to 29-36. They suck this year! I've done great work using the gym so far this year, and I feel like I'm in pretty good shape. I haven't done any work at all on my house this week so I need to drop the hammer and get it done. If I don't have it all done by then end of this month then I have failed. Failure = what a bunch of crap!

Bob finally poured my gym-expansion section of cellar floor this morning. Sweet! If I remember to do so I'll post a photo of that next time. For now I'm out of here because I need to get my swell on in my gym and then work on my house for an hour or two before supper. Goonies never say die!

Tuesday, 6-10-14: Gods damn Windows 8!
My old bootleg computer died a month or so ago, and Gav hooked me up with a sweet "spare" computer of his that he wasn't using. I still owe him some for hooking me up! Unfortunately, all he had was Windows 8 for an operating system and so far I fucking hate this piece of crap OS. There is no START menu in the lower left corner; The Nothing took it away like it once took away the beautiful lake from the Rock Biters in the North in The Neverending Story. What a bunch of crap!

I went into the control panel, which took me a couple minutes to find since THERE IS NO GODS DAMNED START MENU, and I looked. There is no calculator there. I cannot find it anywhere. Does Windows 8 not come with a frigging calculator or what? If I had a START menu then I could go look at the default programs under the ACCESSORIES tab, but now I am denied worse than if I were to hit on a hot chick at the bar late-night. A faggot Microsoft operating system has denied my pathetic ass and I hate it.

Also, it is impossible to view a group of photos simply by clicking on the photo. A photo will open and then you cannot use the arrow buttons to see the next ones in the folder. What a bunch of crap! Thankfully I learned how to push the "windows" button on my keyboard (the one to the right of the CTRL button) or else I would have needed Gavin to come show me what to do. When I push that button I get all kinds of monkey-crap that absolutely sucks ass, but there is an icon that says DESKTOP so at least I can get to somewhat familiar territory.

^This piece of crap is my main screen-thingie. It's a toilet full of pixelated fail!

The icon in the lower left takes me to my START MENU-less desktop. Yeah, my background image is currently a couple white flowers with a yellow center. Is that a daisy? Gods damn it. What a bunch of crap! I should change it to something 1000 times more manly, but I don't know how to change it yet so nevermind.



Thankfully I have a real calculator here in my office. Gav texted me a link to a place where I could buy a START menu for around 3 bucks, but I lost that link so now I have to beg for it from him again. Gods damn it!

In other news, Doug and his chick-friend (not gf?) left my house Sunday evening around 1845 for the long drive back to Tucson, AZ. I'm sure they're on the road still as I type this, maybe in the nation's heartland by now. We did a lot of drinking again over the past weekend, a final blowout if you will. On Friday night we had some good friends over to my house. Walt came by to hang out and gave me a box of Teddy Grahams. Score! If you don't love Teddy Grahams then I hate you. I probably hate you anyway, but I'll hate you a little more. Jason also came up with Holly, Nadia, Monkey, and Manktown. They only stayed for a couple hours, but it was nice of them to make the 3-hour round-trip drive to check out my place.

We ended up at Jester's late-night Friday night then we came back to the house to hang out a little more. I guess Doug invited some oddballs back to the house as well, including one dude who dresses like a chick, so around 0200 I snapped in a relatively dick-ish way and threw everyone out of my house. Then I told Doug to get a job or something. After that I slept great and woke up Saturday feeling great and with no hangover at all. Score!

On Saturday we stayed up epic late and the highlight of the night was the IWE show down at Deno's (right next to Jester's.) I got pretty drunk and hit on some chick, but then I didn't care that much and we all ended up back at my house around the fire pit. (without that chick!) Eventually I bivouaced, but Doug and Tommy stayed up until beyond daylight and Doug decided to go into my "swamp" out back to do some hilarious impressions. Too bad I was asleep and missed the show, but I guess he pretended to be in the Swamps of Sadness from The Neverending Story and then he pretended to be Yoda on Dagobagh from Star Wars. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Unfortunately, someone heard him and thought he was calling out for help so the cops got called to my house. What a bunch of crap!

In the 2.5 weeks Doug was back we definitely had our share of fun times. However, there also was a bit of bullshit drama and that's par for the course from my younger brother. He stayed up all night a few times and I had to boot the riff-raff from my house because the party needed to end at some point. He pissed off his chick friend and I had to ask her to not buy a ticket back to Tucson. Oh, he was also wasted drunk at 1030 a couple weeks ago when Mom and Pop came up to see my house for the first time. Then, of course, the cops got called to my house last weekend thanks to him. Epic fail! Oh well, from what I was told by others the cop situation was hilarious anyway. The cop laughed at Doug and then laughed at Tommy (who was dressed up as Macho Man Randy Savage!)

I guess I should hop off this bootleg thing and go do stuff. I have to pay some bills and take care of some other rental-property crap before I lift weights and go for a jog. Bye bye rest of this afternoon. It's already 1400! Time flies when you're screwing off. I guess I won't work on my house today either. I'll work on it later this week. I didn't work on it yesterday because I went up to Kelly's for a visit and to go with them to watch Lexi play in a softball game. I'm glad her and I can still be friends.

Friday, 6-06-14: My debt.
I'm looking at my Bangor Savings Bank accounts online, making sure my precious... precious accounts aren't negative. However, I guess in a way it's funny to say that because my accounts will always be a cumulative negative until approximately the year 2232. I still owe $189,141.52 for this bootleg property here at my office and gym. Ouch! My loan was just paid yesterday via automatic deduction; $863.88 of the $1367.59 payment for this month was interest and the remaining $503.71 was principal.

That's only my Bangor Savings loan for one property, too. If I add on all my other properties I know I'm over $500,000 in the hole, including my new house. What a bunch of crap! Fortunately, every time I make a mortgage payment a little bit more of the proverbial pie becomes mine. I suppose all my properties are worth more than what I owe so that works. Right? Hopefully I don't need to sell anything for years to come. One day I will own it all outright and then I'll really be financially set. I hope! Only six years left before my first $530.33 monthly mortgage payment disappears after my loan on that rental house reaches its maturity.

For the third day in a row it's all wet outside so I won't mow any lawns today, at least I doubt I will. Maybe the rain will end later, but by then I will likely be consuming alcohol and it will be too late. The weekend should be nice so I can just take care of it then. Since the weather is crap I have time to update my bootleg site. After this I will go pay my last outstanding property tax bill (the one that was due March 12 of this year. What a bunch of crap!), deposit some rent monies, and maybe take a nap. I might not take a nap because I did get plenty of sleep last night, but a little extra sleep can't hurt.

We're gonna have some people over at the house later, and I'm hoping by then the rain really is done so I can cook some burgers and hot dogs on the grill. Jason and Holly might even come up with Manktown! How cool is that? My younger brother hardly ever comes up here anymore now that he's all domesticated with a beautiful 3-year old daughter. Mom wants more grandkids, but I told her at the buffet after Grammy's funeral that I'm all done so hopefully Jason or Doug can come through for her. My life is a kid-free zone at the moment!

^MANKTOWN! One of the funniest guys I know. That photo was taken 12-31-2005 at my old apartment right above this very office in which I now sit. Eight and a half years ago. How time flies! Hopefully tonight Mank does something outragous that makes us all double over in hysterics.

In other news the Red Sox are a measley 29-31 and in 4th place. Last month they lost ten games in a row before turning it around and immediately thereafter winning 7 in a row. They've lost a couple and won a couple since that winning streak, but they still pretty much suck. What a bunch of crap! At the end of this month the Cubs come to Fenway Park in Boston to play the Sox so Gav and I might go down for a game. He's a huge Cubs fan, but the Cubs suck ass so maybe we won't go. What's the point if both of our teams are losers this year? Boston is always fun anyway so maybe we will go...

Def Leppard, Rock of Ages. Best band, ever. Great song from a great album. If you don't like this song then I hate you. I probably hate you anyway, but I'll hate you just a little more.

I saw Kelly earlier this week for the first time in nearly a month. She came by the house, we grabbed a Subway lunch, and we had a nice visit. She was pissed off at me because I never filled in a few potholes in her driveway so she pretty much blew me off for a few weeks. HAHAHAHAHAHA! She thought I did it on purpose I guess? She said one thing she likes about me (glad there's one thing!) is the fact that I always do what I say I will do, but then I said I would do that and I didn't do it. I honestly totally forgot to fill them in because I was so focused on my new house, the renovations, and everything else. My bad. The potholes aren't so bad that they would eat a tire or anything. I'll bring some fill up this weekend and take care of it.

I suppose I should go do other stuff now. I have a tenant who pays rent with all kinds of smaller bills so counting it up takes a little extra time. What a bunch of crap! It will start off great with 20s but then towards the end it gets down to 10s, 5s, and finally about 30 one dollar bills. PAY YOUR RENT IN BIGGER BILLS GODS DAMN YOUZ! However, I don't complain about it to them because it beats the alternative by a mile. In this case something is definitely better than nothing.

I dreamed last night that I tried to drive a truck up a hill, but the hill was all covered with snow so the truck slid backwards. All I wanna know is why? Why did I just at this moment rendomly remember that? Where's my psychologist?

Thursday, 6-05-14: Subopena!
I gots a subopena from the police earlier this week. What a bunch of crap! I had to go get the bootleg thing from the station after my shift at UPS a couple days ago. Look at this monkey-crap:

I guess I should learn how to properly spell subpoena, eh? That's a tricky one!

I am COMMANDED to appear in court in Rockland. WTF?! That means if I wipe my arse with this thing and then flush it into The Nothing then I could be in contempt of court. I have to go to this trial. The paper says that I need to be available from June 10-20th, but that is 100% impossible. I have a job gods damn it! Actually, I have two jobs (and sometimes three when it's blueberry raking and tax seasons!) I don't have time for that shit. I called the phone number and talked to the chick, and she said she would let me know soon if they even need me or not. Maybe the bad guy on the form there will take a plea deal or something and it won't even go to trial. I hope anyway!

Why am I a key witness you might ask? Remember this from 1.5 years ago?

I bought a whole load of Hammer Strength exercise stuff from Monkey, one of Jason's friends and an acquaintence of mine as well for years. Turns out the guy who sold the stuff to Monkey stole it, though. Not good. When I put one of the pieces of equipment together, hated it, and tried to hock it on Craigslist that's when shit went down. The owner, the guy who got robbed, had been checking Craigslist and (I presume) other classifieds, hoping to see his stuff. Once he saw my listing he called me up, he thought I was the thief, and I eventually talked him off the ledge. He was planning to come up to meet me and to get his crap, but I told him to go to the police so that's what he did. It took a few months, but in February 2013 a state trooper met me here in my gym to take pictures of it all. he said they got the guy who stole it all and he asked me to hold onto it. No prob!

Now, all these months later, it's finally coming to a head. Hopefully the shit-nugget who stole all the gear just accepts a plea or whatever so I don't have to drive all the way to frigging Rockland to testify in court. They should have the trial up here for my convenience gods damn it! I guess this means my days of possessing all that awesome Hammer Strength equipment are numbered. One day the cops will show up with a U-Haul or something and take it all away. Then I will get my $500 back that I paid for it all. However, I'd rather keep the equipment than get my $500 back. I put together an awesome back-row machine that I'd love to keep. Will be a shame to see it go. All the other equipment is still in pieces and parts because I didn't dare put any of it together once I found out where all the stuff really came from.

I have some papers on my desk that I should go through before I get my swell on in my gym, go work on my house for an hour or two, and then call it a day. I've hardly worked on my house at all this week, but I don't even care... if I care. Hard to work on it with both Doug and his friend bivouaced in my pad so I've just been going at it slowly. No rush, right? Here is my breakfast bar taken yesterday:

I don't even own a "real" trash can for that house yet. Hahahaha! I've just been using my large trash barrels since, with the renovations, I always have a lot of gibbage to haul off. The bar-top is 100% done now, but the trim isn't completed and won't be 100% done until I get the floor around it done. Beyond the couch in the living room you can see some boxes of flooring; I have some of it done in that room now.

This coming weekend will be our final blowout before Doug and his friend head back to AZ. We'll have some friends over tomorrow and then Saturday we'll go to an IWE show across the street before Doug leaves on Sunday. Next week I can focus on working on the house again; this week I can screw off, take care of some apartment crap, and exercise. I jogged 11 miles in the first three days of this month. Nice start! However, I did walk a litte bit of that due to being tired/full/slightly hungover/etc. I'd jog another 3 or 4 today, but I think it will start raining so nevermind. Maybe tomorrow...

Wednesday, 6-04-14: Grammy's funeral and stuff.
I took Monday off from UPS so Doug and I could drive down to the Veteran's Cemetary in Augusta for Grammy's funeral service. The family all met up there around midday for the short ceremony, and from there we headed over to some place called The Senator for a buffet lunch and some mingle-time. I ate a lot of food at the buffet, and I sucked on a 3-mile jog later that afternoon as a result of my gluttony. What a bunch of crap! (25:45 run time and I had to walk some. Epic fail.)

The Veteran's Cemetary is a nice place, and the weather was great so we did the service outside right by Papa's grave-marker. Like Papa, Grammy got cremated so there she sat in a golden box atop a little stand as we did our thing. I actually carried Grammy-in-a-box from the trunk of the car to the grave. Kinda weird carrying about a 12" square box that weighs about as much as a gallon of milk that was once my Grammy. Uncle Pete read some religious monkey-crap from a bible and then Pop gave a very interesting little bit of geneology (spelling?) Apparently Grammy's ancestors were Sweedish, her Grandfather/father emigrated to the USA from there, and then when Grammy was just 7 months old her father died. After Grammy's Dad checked out her Mom worked a shitload of hours for Grammy and her siblings, and then when Grammy was 5 her Mom checked out and Grammy was orphaned. Eventually she ended up with an Aunt or something (I suck at paying attention sometimes) and then she grew up, went into the Navy, and met Papa at a USO dance in Boston during the early stages of WWII.

After Pop gave us the interesting family history lesson a couple Army guys played Taps on the trumpet and presented a flag to Dad. Hand-salute, the works. It was a nice ceremony and thankfully it only lasted about 20 minutes. Score! It was a nice ceremony and I'm glad the family got it right after the shit-show that was Papa's service from a few years back. (I wrote about that on this bootleg site; it's in the archives somewhere.)

So both my grandparents on my father's side of the family are underground, hopefully in a better place if there is such a place. My Grandpa on my Mom's side of the family passed away years ago and my Grandma, my mother's Mom, is in a nursing home and in relatively poor health after she had a stroke a few years back. Old age blows! Grammy wasn't doing so well before she passed away so I'm glad she didn't hang on for years and years. Better to check out than to linger around too long. Right?

RIP Grammy and Papa. Two great human beings who succeeded in all phases of life. If living a good life was a game then my Grammy and Papa both won by a mile. They were basically fucking awesome and if you disagree then come say it to my face and see what happens. I'll miss Grammy and Papa a lot, and some day in the future when I start to screw up at life I hope I can remember them and the true memory of their characters as people makes me get my shit back into a pile. Hopefully I never screw up at life, but oh wait I just bailed on my girlfriend of 3-ish years and her family despite the fact that she's great so yeah, I lose.

I didn't bawl like a little sissy baby at Grammy's service. She was 93 and she had a great life. It was her time to leave us all so there was a definite sense of closure. When Papa checked out a few years ago it was his time, but poor Grammy was still alive and seeing her after was heartbreaking. They were married for over 60 years when Papa died so obviously Grammy didn't take his loss too well. It actually would have been better if they both died at the same time, and I don't say that because I'm getting free loot from an estate or anything. I say that because after Papa died Grammy just wasn't the same again. Gods damn youz Grim Reaper!

I wonder how old I will be when I die? I guess I'll be at least 38.5! Hehehehe... (my current age) I'm not really too concerned about that just yet. I could live to be 100 if I really put my mind to it, but screw that because all of my friends will be dust in the wind if I live that long and, unless Jason lives to be 98 and Doug lives to be 96, there's no point. Maybe I'll take a page out of Tommy's book and blend it with my current plan. My current plan, as it has been for many years, is to freeze myself to death when I fail (either health-wise or mentally. Both?) but last weekend when we were all drinking around the fire Tommy pretended to do the Schwarzenegger thumbs-up from T2: Judgement Day as he sat by the fire. It was hilarious!

^Awesome scene from a totally badass movie. Here's a 30-second YouTube clip of it.

So thanks to Tommy, Schwarzenegger, and James Cameron (director of T2) now I will freeze myself one day and, just before I croak, I'll do the thumbs-up just like that! Awesome....

Let's end this update on a positive note today. I went to Marden's after work so I could buy cheap stuff. When I saw this on display I literally laughed out loud, went to get a shopping cart (my arms were full), and added it to the pile:

^OMG A HUGE BOX OF POP TARTS! AAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! That box is literally about the size of Grammy's cremation box. It weight over 5 pounds, and it contains 48 Pop Tarts. The expiration date is June 2014 so I better eat them all ASAP. However, I also bought some expired cereal and Hamburger Helper so I guess there's no rush. Those Pop tarts would probably still be edible in 2017. I paid $6.99 for all those Pop Tarts, and I think they sell at paradis for $1.99 for an 8-pack. So at that price 48 Pop-tarts would be $12 full price and I paid $7. Not bad! I like saving money, but the epic size of the box is what made me throw it into my cart. Expired food in my cupboard for close to half price... what a bunch of crap!

I wish I knew Marden's sold food years ago. I might be dead in a freezer with my thumb raised high after too much expired boxed-foods poisoned my once-healthy ass, but at least I would have saved a bunch of money!

(Where's my psychologist?)

Sunday, 6-01-14: A beautiful weekend.
The weather has been flawless this weekend. Awesome! Mostly sunny, 70s, and not too humid. Works for me! Yesterday afternoon I took a refreshing nap, I got my ass up, and Doug, Gav, one of Doug's friends, and I took a road trip up to the big city of Old Town. Along the way we stopped off at Kelly's house so I could get most of the rest of my crap that I had left there. We threw my chest freezer into the truck and that worked out perfectly for use at our next stop:

^TIM"S LITTLE BIG STORE across the Penobscot River from Indian Island in Old Town, Maine 04468. There was extra space in my freezer for our booze. How cool is that? (Literally!)

I love Tim's. That store is fucking awesome! It's not really a big store, but they pack a lot of great alcohol into the place. They have tons of cheap beer that's at, near, or even maybe past its expiration date. They still have Pumpkinhead beer for sale there and it's been months since Halloween! ($2.49 for a 6-pack.) Yesterday we all loaded up; I spent $23.50 and got 28 different beers. Four of those were some outstanding Orange-soda-tasting 16-ounce cans of awesomeness. As an added bonus those were 8% alcohol by volume. Score! I don't know how many of those 28 beers that I drank last night, but I think I still have a lot left since we spent a good part of the night out on the town.

Even though Pumpkinhead was only $2.50 for a 6-pack I didn't buy any. I drank a shitload of various pumpkin-flavored beers since Tim's started selling the stuff on the cheap all those months ago so I've moved on to other choices like Shock Top and other various low-priced beers that they have. I'll definitely have to make a point of hitting up Tim's every so often so I can load up on cheap beers. I can buy enough to last me a month of two every time that I go. Too bad the place is 13.5 miles away; I wish they would have one in Bangor or Brewer.

After Tim's we had a cookout, drank and the house for a while, and then hit up Jester's. The plan was to stay at Jester's for a beer and then head downtown to Season's for the main event of the night: Eightysomething, a great cover band, was playing there. I love that band! Unfortunately, the taxis took for-fucking-ever last night so we had to wait an extra half-hour or more at Jester's while we awaited our ride to Season's. We finally rolled into 80s night around 2315 so we did have plenty of time to rip out tunes and to mack and attack before 0100 last-call. I hit the dance floor, the band rocked it, and it was a great time. There were a lot of chicks there and, I swear to the gods that do not really exist, that every frigging one I talked to was 47 years old. None of them looked that old. Weird coincidence? We didn't bring any chicks back to the house late-night, but that's okay it was still a great time. This one broad wanted my phone number but I think I bailed out because I don't want to talk to any chicks on the phone. Fuck dating!

We closed Season's down and then we had to wait a bit more for a taxi back to the house. We got a fire going, and some preacher-looking slapnut ended up back and the house with us. His attire could not be explained. He was seriously wearing this shirt that made him look like a man of faith. I think it even had a cross on it? What a bunch of crap! He said he could get a bunch of chicks back to my house, I was tempted to say "hell yeah!" to that, but then I realized I didn't even care... if I cared so I said no thanks and shortly after that I bivouaced. I woke up at 0615 and Doug was still drinking with Tommy, but Tommy had stopped drinking because he had to sober up and get ready for his UPS orientation. He's hired at UPS! (I think?) Hopefully he gets to work for me on the west belt. That would be cool!

I told Doug to stop drinking and go to bed so he actually did. All I wanna know is why? Why does he gotta stay up all damn night and keep on drinking? He was pretty drunk and talking about how a photo of Lady (the dog he and his ex-girlfriend had together) on Kelly's fridge made him sad. I told him get over it how do you think I felt having to move my crap out of the house I lived in for over two fucking years waaaaa waaaaa. Here's a hint: it doesn't feel too good knowing I blew it at my chance to have a family. Epic fail and what a bunch of crap all rolled into one giant shit-pile right there. However, I'm not all depressed and I'm actually doing quite well. Being emotionally impotent pays dividends on occasion!

In conclusion, last night was a lot of fun. The 80s band is awesome and I need to go to more of their shows. I think I only blew 30 or 40 bucks out on the town, too. Bonus! Gavin was so funny late-night. We all came back to my house, but he thought some chick who wants his thunder was going to come over as well so he "snuck out through the back yard" as he called it. This chick who was supposedly coming over got dropped off at her place when I think Tommy told her to go home so she never even made it to my house. HAHAHAHAHAHA! Hilarious!

Til Tuesday, Voices Carry. Great tune. Gotta love the 80s channel on Pandora Radio!

I'm not really hungover today. Score! I actually have the energy to use the gym and go for a jog, although no guarantees that I do both. I will at least jog since the weather is so perfect. I also have a lawn to mow at that property I manage. I charge the guy $20 to do it and I might hire it out to Jeremy or someone, but screw that I'll just do it since it takes 45 minutes or an hour and only uses a little bit of my gas and weedwacker line, etc.

I don't have to work at UPS tomorrow because we have to go to the Veteran's cemetary in Augusta to put Grammy into the ground next to Papa. Grammy passed away back in January, but we had to wait until spring to do the service. I'm not looking forward to going to her funeral at all. I'd rather work, I'd rather do anything than go to my Grammy's funeral. She was a wonderful person who had an amazing life.

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