Thoughts from the Ass End of the Night, volume 812

Thoughts from the Ass End of the Night, volume 812

Gotta love the insomnia. I mean, what would a day be without a time spent in the middle of the night replaying every conversation you had over the course of the day? I mean, its not enough to have the conversation once. My brain just wants to relive every mundane moment of the day.

I had to type and retype the word "relive" four times. Each time, it appeared on the page as "relieve."

Maybe it's one of those Freudian things. Brain's trying to relieve itself of something. Get me to deal with something I didn't deal with. And to do it, it's gonna keep me up at four in the morning. If it ain't sleeping, ain't nobody sleeping.

Or, I could just be a clumsy-assed typist.

I dunno. It could be one conversation in particular that I forced yesterday.

Here's the Reader's Digest version:

I carried a torch for a girl for a while. For the longest time, nothing came of it. She was engaged to be married when I first knew her, so I didn't mess with pursuing my feelings. Then, she wasn't engaged anymore. It had endly roughly for her, so I still said nothing, and lived my life.

Several months after they broke up, I asked her out. We tried going out a little bit. I told her how I felt, but in the end, it wasn't meant to be. We still talked, because we'd been friends. Then, a few months ago, she stopped talking to me pretty much altogether. I tried to ask what was going on, but never got an answer. My feelings were hurt, but I'd thought I'd let it go.

Then I thought about her yesterday, and called to say hi. And you wonder why I call the site Big Stupid Tommy

That's the conversation I've been replaying. That stupid, awkward shit that I said in that ridiculously brief conversation I had with a person that I haven't even talked to in four months. A person who's had nothing to do with me or my life in that time.

Yep. Been replaying that conversation, which really wasn't a whole lot more involved than "What have you been up to?"

What's bugging me, being awake this time of the night is that there really was nothing between us. We never even got to the "kiss goodnight" portion of the program. It'd be one thing if we had this extended, deep thing going on between us. But we never even made it that even close to that.

At the end of the day (or night, or whatever the fuck it is you call it to wrap up a bullshit post started at 4 in the morning), I can ramble all I want about this thing that never was, but I tend to think my brain's beating me up over not letting things go.

Part of me wants to think it was a missed opportunity. But for once in my life, I think I did everything I could do. The timing was bad, and it most likely was never meant to be in the first place.

Sometimes manning up is just knowing when to leave well enough alone, and finding the balls to move on with your life.

Just wish I could get my brain to realize that.

Or, I could be awake because those Wasabi Peas I ate before bed are giving me bad dreams about rabid dogs in the neighborhood. Why would they wear party hats while they eat the neighbors?

Who knows, for sure?

Enunciation

Enunciation

Note to self: It is important, when discussing the movie "Diggers," to enunciate the title very carefully. Because some assholes get self-righteous.

The movie itself is a little bland. Nothing really special. I was hoping for more.

Ken Marino gives a helluva performance. I will say that. The best I've seen him give.

But the title needs to be said very carefully.

Because of the aforementioned self-righteous, not-listening-closely-enough assholes.

If I had a million dollars....

If I had a million dollars...

Tish tagged me a couple days ago. Been mulling it over.

The first thing that I ran in to was the Dr. Evil problem...

A million dollars, while being more money that I'll scrape together any time soon, isn't that big a chunk of change. You can go grandiose, but only so. I mean, you can't buy your own baseball team and call them the Riceville Big Stupid Tommies. You can't create an orbiting space laser platform. You can't even pay to have all the living members of the cast of Head of Class walk around you and talk about how great it was when we were all in high school together (believe me-I've checked, Dan Frischman's rates are astronomical).

So, I'm thinking it's all about how you live, and finding small things to accentuate your life. Here are a few things I like to think I could pick up:

1.) My very own high powered tennis ball cannon, as seen on American Gladiators. I like to think that I could create a rig that would mount in the bed of my pickup truck. With it, I would dispense justice and/or amusement.

2.) I'm thinking I could pretty neatly build a few secret passages in my home, with a million dollars. I think it's a generational thing, but most folks my age can recall a certain episode of Webster involving secret passages, and use that episode as citation for their reason for wanting a house with secret passages.

3.) Four words: Joe Thomas=Prank Monkey

4.) How much does it cost to have Elton John write a song about you? Do you have to die? If that's the caveat, then never mind.

5.) I think that for a million dollars, I could acquire and pay for the training of an Attack Monkey. This has long been a concern of mine, having a henchman (henchmonkey) to obtain justice for transgressions against me in this world. I feel like the world would be a little more fun to live in, if I could have a monkey on my shoulder that I might send to attack people, if they wronged me.

6.) Maybe the class from Head of the Class without Dan Frischman. On a trial basis. I mean, my gut says it just wouldn't be fun without Arvid.

7.) What is the yearly salary on a harem girl? And is it really a harem girl if you have just one? Seems like you need multiple for a harem.

----

Actually, here's the honest answer.

If somebody were to magically drop a million dollars into my lap, tax free....

I wouldn't be working where I do. I like parts of my job, but it just takes so much time. My goal in in real life is to scale back, when I get a bit saved up, so I can go back to school full time. But were somebody to drop a million bucks in my lap, I wouldn't fool with my workplace anymore.

I'd take some time off to write. I really would like to see what I could do if I had six weeks, or three months, or a few days in a row, where I did nothing but write. I have a feeling I could do something really cool. I'm trying to make time to do it.

I've always wanted to road trip to see a game at all 30 Major League Stadiums. A few weeks ago, I did a quick jaunt from here to St. Louis, from there to Cincinnati and back. Just to see what it costs, over a couple of days. I'd like to try to do this in the next couple of years. Before I get all married or covered up with childrens. With a million dollars, I think I could do this, and do it comfortably. Even fly a place or two, if I didn't want to have to drive all the heck up to Seattle....

I think that I could start my own business. Maybe selling buttwhuppins.

I'd help my sister and brother-in-law buy a house. They're saving up for a down payment. I'd help them out.

I'd buy my own house. Complete with Webster-style secret passages.

I'm not bullshitting you about that last part.

Lastly, I'd be able to help out a couple causes I believe in. (Is there a charitable organization for helping dorky internet guys find girlfriends? Because I might need to start one...)

Anyway. That's what I'd do with a million dollars....

What They Do With Their $1 Million

1. SYH will spend for Family

2. Miche will give to the needy

3. Montessorimum will keepsake

4. Lovely Mummy will spend & save

5. MummyInVain will fully utilise

6. Babyfiona will buy house and open business

7. MonkeyWong will go for a long vacation

8. Emila Yusof will realise her dream

9. Mariuca will open a Perfume Gallery

10.Janice Ng will upgrade house and go for long vacation

11.Hin will blog to donate for charity

12.Bobo will invest in property and let her parents go on a holiday.

13. Brad will spend all of his money on foolish gadgets

14. Tish will help needy dogs.

15. Tommy would write, start a business and help his sister buy a house

Notes from the world of Tommy

Notes from the world of Tommy

I love people. Some dick decided to splice into my cable. The result on my end was my internet access dial-up slow. Comcast came by and fixed it this morning.

It's also been kinda busy in the world of Tommy.

Work. That's a given. It's not as bad as it has been in the past, but it's kept me busy enough.

----

I did hit the Southern Brewers' Festival in Chattanooga on Saturday. It was one of those days where I was surprised by a Saturday off. I called my buddy Steven, to see if he was working. We decided that between the two of us having a Saturday off, there was no excuse to sit home watching re-runs of the Deadliest Catch. So, we hit the Brew Fest.

Lots of good stuff (and a couple not so good). I want to single out the IPA from Bosco's Brewery, which is one of the best I've ever had. Terrapin's Golden Ale was nice. And there was an Espresso Stout (from Riverside, I think, though that was awfully late in the day) that kicked ass--problem being that it's 98 degrees, and I now have a stomach full of thick beer....

There's nothing like standing out in the 98 degree sunshine with a stomach full of beer to make for a pleasant afternoon. A dinner at Mellow Mushroom soaked up most of the buzz, and we headed home.

----

That night, had the bad experience of a neighbor deciding to make a punching bag out of his girlfriend. I was having an odd dream about explosions going off at my work, and then I woke up, and the explosion sounds kept coming. Turns out it was the fireworks from the neighbors. Called the cops (I was the second or third to do so). I was pulling on my shoes, trying to figure out if there was something I could do to help, because it had gotten really bad (to my mind, it's testament to how bad it sounded), when the cops showed up. They took the guy out in handcuffs.

His girl got a restraining order against him. He wasn't on the lease, so it's not an issue of evicting him. Her landlord has asked a few neighbors to watch to see if she moves him back in. If she does, he'll kick her out.

I don't talk a lot with my neighbors. I'm not home enough, really. But the couple of times I've talked with the girl, she seems nice enough. I hope she's got a brain in her head, and keeps the asshole out of her life. Losing her place to live might add a little incentive.

---

Picked up the first season of Heroes yesterday. I saw most of the episodes online, but I splurged and bought the DVDs. I liked the show when I first saw it, but was a little offput on how similar it seemed to be in tone to J. Michael Straczynski's Rising Stars. If it was a rehash, I'd read enough comic books in my life that I didn't need to spend a lot of time with it. Read enough of the same story.

Maybe I'll have more thoughts. The way my spare time's going, I'm finding time to watch stuff in the mornings when I'm getting ready for work.

But it's a decent enough show.

In Which American Gladiators Returns

In Which American Gladiators Returns

From the e-mail:

NBC bringing back American Gladiators.

Just so long as they don't get rid of the tennis ball cannon for "Assault."

I've wanted a tennis ball cannon ever since.

Which reminds me: I've been meaning to tell you all how disappointed in you I am that I haven't been presented an American Gladiators Style Tennis Ball Cannon.

Hopefully, with the return of the show, they will market one that you could buy at any convenient retail establishment.

I would enjoy it very much, though, if you would buy it at Target.

Because that sort of thing is funny to me.

30-3

30-3

I got home from work last night, and brought up Sportsline's site, to look at the scores of the day. I went with the intention that if the Cubs weren't done in San Francisco, I'd jump over to MLB's site to watch the rest of the game on their feed. Don't ask me why I don't just go there first, since they have scores, too. I never once claimed to be a logical sumbitch.

Anyway, at first glance at the day's scores, I thought that some asswipe at CBS sports had decided to put exhibition football scores on the site's ticker, instead of baseball. I saw a final score of 30-3.

I was about to scream "bullshit" at the top of my lungs, which no doubt would have come muchly to the chagrine of my neighbors, when I noticed that it was indeed a baseball score.

"Huh," I said to myself. "I can't remember anybody ever scoring 30 runs."

Granted, my memory is a shoddy, swiss cheesy thing. I stood outside the Wal-Mart the other day for a couple seconds before realizing that I hadn't parked outside the door I'd come out of. So, memory's maybe not my strong suit.

Anyway, research on the subject bore out that indeed, I hadn't seen 30 runs in my life time. In fact, they hadn't seen 30 runs in my grandparents' lifetime.

Now, I didn't see the game. I have only a box score to go by, so somebody should correct me if I'm wrong.

Why the hell didn't somebody on the Orioles staff plunk a Ranger or two?

Realizing, of course, the Orioles were in the tough position of having to save pitchers for the second game of the double header, and given the disposition of today's umpire to toss a guy if he gets within a batter's personal space.

But if your team is giving up a tenspot just an inning or two after giving up nine? Plunk a guy between the shoulders to back them off the plate. Take a little control, if only because you've got a second game to play that day, and you might be able to salvage some respectability out of the day.

Sure, you'll get tossed, most likely. But if I'm the Orioles, I then put an outfielder in to pitch for a couple innings. It'd be hard for him to do much worse than the pitchers already were.

Fact of the matter is, I have no attachment at all to the Baltimore Orioles, any of the players or anything having to do with their organization. But somehow, as a baseball fan, I was embarrassed for them. No major league team should have 30 put up on them.

Unless it's the Yankees. Then, it'd be hilarious.

Anyway. This is neither here nor there, but I'd like to close that for the first part of my baseball fandom, early in my childhood, I thought that the team was called the Baltimore Oreos.

Because that's what I thought my Dad was saying. Baltimore Oreos.

That might have been what he was saying. Dad sure does like cookies.

Today's Funny

Today's Funny

This one's a personal favorite, from The State

Books

Books

Trying to get my brain moving this morning. Seen at Sheila's.

What are you reading right now?

Bill Bryson's A Short History of Nearly Everything. I'm liking it, and I feel like I'm picking stuff upbut it's still not grabbing me 100%. I read it in short bursts. I do like the little snippets of trivia in there:

[The Reverend William] Buckland was a bit of a charming oddity. He had some real achievements, but he is remembered at least as much for eccentricities. He was particualarly noted for a menagerie of wild animals, some large and dangerous, that were allowed to roam through his house and garden, and for his desire to eat his way through every animal in creation. Depending on whim and availability, guests to Buckland's house might be served baked guinea pig, mice in batter, roasted hedgehog, or boiled Southeast Asian sea slug. Buckland was able to find merit in them all, except the common garden mole, which he declared disgusting. Almost inevitably, he become the leading authority on coprolites--fossilized feces....

I'm also reading a fun little post-apocalyptic gem called Earth Abides, by George Stewart. Guy wakes up after a snake-bite induced sick to find that most of society has vanished due to a plague. My kind of stuff.

AND

During lunches at work, I'm reading The Code: The Unwritten Rules Of Fighting And Retaliation In The NHL. I picked it up after Emily highly recommended it. Call me a very casual fan of hockey, but I've enjoyed the insight in this one...I love the intricacy of the retaliation in the game, over the course of a single contest, a season and even a career....

Do you have any idea what you’ll read when you’re done with that?

I dunno. I've been lent a couple here lately. I'd never read Breakfast at Tiffany's but borrowed it from my sister and brother-in-law. And I've got a book of short pieces by Flannery O'Connor, most of which I'd never read, sitting on my coffee table right now.

What magazines do you have in your bathroom right now?

I did have the issue of Entertainment Weekly with the guys from Superbad on the cover, but I seem to have become so engaged in an article that I carried it away from the commode.

Which lead to something of a problem this morning as I had a few minutes to ponder. For want of something to read while taking the kids to the pool, I read the back of the case of the DVD of Once Upon a Time in Mexico, which I've been watching on the portable player as I get ready for work.

What’s the worst thing you were ever forced to read?

I had a Pop Culture class in college, and we had to read a romance novel. I don't remember the title, though Janet Dailey wrote it. (Looking through Amazon, it's either Rivals or Heiress...) I remember finding my copy at a used book store for a quarter. I've never thrown a book across a room as many times as I did that one.

It was one of those moments where I said "this woman is putting crap out and selling tens upon thousands of copies, and I can write circles around her...."

What’s the one book you always recommend to just about everyone?

I really enjoy the work of a guy named Ferrol Sams. He's an old Georgia doctor whose narrative style is akin to your grandpa telling you stories sitting out on the porch. His stuff is fiction, but it's very much autobiographical. It's beautifully written stuff...he could write for pages about almost nothing, and I'd read it twice, just for kicks.

He's also got a sneaky, bawdy sense of humor. He'll be telling this beautiful story about life in South during the Great Depression, and he'll punctuate it with a paragraph about how his father enters the scene with an obnoxious fart brought on from the previous night's alcohol binge.

I recommend the Porter Osborne books, which start with "Run with the Horsemen."

Admit it, the librarians at your library know you on a first name basis, don’t they?

I haven't been my local library since they moved to their new building. Seven or eight years ago.

I quote Sheila: I'm a book buyer, not a book renter.

Is there a book you absolutely love, but for some reason, people never think it sounds interesting, or maybe they read it and don’t like it at all?

We were just talking about this the other night. Christmas before last, I gave my friend Jill The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova. I thought it was great...I just liked the way she wrote. But neither she nor her husband got much out of it.

I'm also always recommending Joe Lansdale, a favorite writer of mine. A friend of mine didn't reading anything else of his after reading a copy of Freezer Burn we found on a remainder table. Now, I liked Freezer Burn, but I'm finding that even among folks who like Lansdale, they don't like Freezer Burn. (I do, rather a lot really).

Do you read books while you eat? While you bathe? While you watch movies or TV? While you listen to music? While you’re on the computer? While you’re having sex? While you’re driving?

Yeah to some, no to others.

When you were little, did other children tease you about your reading habits?

No, but that's the advantage of reaching your full height by the time you're 14 years old. I was a head and shoulders taller than most of the kids I knew. And by the time they started catching up, most of my friends read, too.

What’s the last thing you stayed up half the night reading because it was so good you couldn’t put it down?

Jim Norton's book, Happy Endings is hilarious. The night I got it, I ended up sitting up until three finishing it.

The only thing better...is $240 worth of pudding....

The only thing better...is $240 worth of pudding....

Want to make Tommy stand up and scream like a madman?



That'll do it.

There's no Amazon listing, though.

Still good news.

Made the day a lot better, anyway.

Dear ESPN

Dear ESPN

Dear ESPN,

Hi, how are you? I'm fine.

Except to say that there's nothing like nearly puking your breakfast sandwich while ESPN does a super slo-mo of Damion Easley rolling his ankle in last night's game.

Thanks, ESPN, for reminding me of the days of yore, when your programming wasn't dedicated to shilling for your other programs; those days when you'd fill the time by spending several minutes disecting Jason Kendall breaking his leg with several super slo-mo spots, including hi def close-ups of the bone popping through the leg.

Seriously, though. Not cool. If I could choose, I'd choose neither shilling for your own programming nor super slo-mo disections of stomach-turning injuries obtained on the playing field.

Perhaps you could spend time talking about a certain team in the Central Division of the National League holding on to first place for a second straight day!!!!1!

!!!!

Just saying.

Your pal,

Dr. Abdul "Larry" Montana, PhD Big Stupid Tommy

Saturday Morning Re Run

Saturday Morning Re Run

I'm writing other junk. It's flowing free and easy. Kidneys, brains. What's the difference?

So here. A few lies, originally posted in August of 2004.

A few lies

From 1991-1993, my father served as the Gorton's Fisherman.

I won the silver medal in the 10 meter platform diving in the 1988 Summer Olympics.

A group of walruses (walri) is referred to as a "cretch."

The digestive system of a baby human defies the laws of thermodynamics.

I got into a fight with Chuck Norris outside a Wings Beach Store in Myrtle Beach, SC.

There is no word in Russian for "pre game warmup." There are 119 for "hangover."

Over a short distance, I can outrun a horse.

The bulk of Bill Gates' fortune is tied up in stock. However, roughly 70% of his liquid assets can be found in collectible Oreo Cookie Christmas tins.

There are actually only 24 letters in our alphabet.

The pinnacle of human artistic achievement is the film Ernest Goes to Camp.

I have written 117 novels under various pseudonyms. (I am J.K. Rowling).

My sister has a 98 m.p.h. fastball, but no control.

The movie Mystic Pizza is a thinly veiled allegory of Harry Truman's presidency.

Celery, if you think about it, is meat.

Julia Roberts can't speak English. She is actually from a small, undiscovered land in Eastern Europe, and does all her English-speaking roles phonetically.

My uncle invented a car that runs on onions.

The National Anthem of Bulgaria is "Ice Ice Baby."

When we die, we become cats.

Your life isn't complete until you have a phone that can take pictures.

The scene in It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World, where Jonathan Winters destroys the gas station? That was real. He got mad when somebody took a picture of him taking a dump.

The economy is controlled by Florence Henderson.

The first season of M*A*S*H was filmed in my grandparents' basement.

There is actually no such word as "diminutive."

The computer games Solitaire, Spider Solitaire and Freecell have been outlawed by the Catholic Church.

Japan is actually a small town just north of Los Angeles.

Everything depicted in Marvel Comic Books from 1962-1975 actually happened.

The Vikings invented the wheel. They also invented the concept of happiness, Pasta, Water, the written language and the nuclear bomb.

I have three nostrils.

Mickey Rooney is the only surviving hobbit.

My dog knows how to fly a helicopter.

Elvis actually died in 1991, of a heart attack. He is buried outside of Helena, Montana, under the name Eugene Fitzhugh.

Akron, Ohio, was destroyed by Marlon Brando, in 1980.

The first cameras actually did steal your soul. Technology has since been improved.

My middle name is Chantelle.

Ty Cobb was called The Georgia Peach, because he was fuzzy, and grew on a tree.

The only organs you really need are a stomach, one lung and a poopchute.

It is illegal in Tennessee to refer to it as a poopchute.

I was birthed when Corey Feldman spilled water on Gizmo. I'm what happens when the mowgwi eat after midnight.

It is impossible to slap the taste out of Ronald McDonald's mouth.

Kangaroos are stuffed with polyester.

Ernest Hemingway invented the suplex. He was the original Human Suplex Machine.

Blond hair is technically impossible.

Porcupines are born with little tiny wings.

Susan B. Anthony invented ice cream.

Brussel Sprouts are good for you.

Stardust

Stardust

Folks: Go out to see Stardust.

Best movie I've seen all summer.

It's also one of the worst promoted.

Excellent flick, horribly promoted.

A shame, considering that you can't turn on a teevee without seeing Chris Tucker hollering at Jackie Chan, and you couldn't have gone ten minutes this summer without seeing ads for Transformers, Harry Potter or Bourne Ultimatum, when I think this one will probably be the one you look back on most fondly twenty years from now.

Go see Stardust.

In which I need to be defined

In which I need to be defined

Via Groanin' Jock...

You Are 40% Cynical

Generally you give people the benefit of the doubt. But there are exceptions. You buy into many of the things that mainstream society believes, but you're not anybody's fool.

How Cynical Are You?

I'm also, according to the cartoon, a pretty hot blond chick. So I got that goin' for me.

Wednesday Thoughts

Wednesday Thoughts

Today's quote:

"Hey!!! Why the hell I like me some dog turd?!?!?"
---MC Pee Pants, making his Earthly return in the Aqua Teen Hunger Force movie....

----

Remember that episode of Simpsons where Homer finds the box of detergent at the dump with his face used as a logo? That's close to how I felt when I found the blog Stupid Tom.

He's been at this even longer than I have. And I'm up there in blog years.

Will it change how I blog?

Maybe I should wear pants.

----

I take small issue with Channel 9's morning meteorologist and/or copywriter, who described this heat wave we're sloshing through down in this neck of the woods as "unseasonably warm."

Now, I like 104 and humid just as much as any self-respecting heavyset fellow, but if I was forced to guess just which season of the year we'd be getting 104 degrees, I'd have to guess "summer."

If it were January 28, and I looked on the internet to see a forecast high temperature of 104 degrees, I'd call that unseasonably warm. Then, I'd hunt down Al Gore, in the interest of beating him with a pillowcase full of doorknobs for inventing both Global Warming and the internet.

My point is, 100+ degrees is Hellishly Hot, but not unseasonable.

As such, I would like my TeeVee reporters to utilize the aforementioned descriptor.

As such, I'd like to hear the warning, as follows, "Folks: It's gonna be Hellishly Hot. Don't go outside unless you're fucked in the head."

HBO

HBO

Speaking of stupid TV tunes that inexplicably get stuck in my noggin.

Sometimes

Sometimes

Sometimes, I get the theme from Dallas stuck in my head.

Which is something of a mystery, considering I haven't seen an episode since the show went off its original run.

Snuh

Snuh

Were it not for the fact that urinals splash back on to my legs, I'd have one in my living room.

As I get older in life, I find myself thinking more and more that I could easily switch to long pants, and have that urinal of my dreams in convenient proximity to my television.

Awesome!!!!

Awesome!!!

Which one of you jokers reported me to the Net Authority?

It might be the fact that I pray to Superman.

But today, I'll blame Gunny Walker, mostly because of all my hate speech against him. I need to remind him, that Gunny Walker is not a group of people.

That's a scary thought, a bunch of Gunnies walking around.

Though if there were, I think you'd have to refer to a group of Gunnies as a "Sack."

Edit: Is this thing a joke? If it is, I've gotten a couple of really weird e-mails in the past several hours....

Anyway, it may be a joke, because there are tags you can attach to your site. I've added one on the left. Because it is my duty. The interweb told me so.

A quiz

A quiz

Because my air conditioning does not reach to the outside, where apparently the sun is trying to cook us off this rock....

Stolen from Sheila.

GRYFFINDOR:
[ ] You've never done drugs.
[ ] You have a lot of friends.
[ ] You get along with everyone.
[x] You love football.
[x] You love baseball.
[x] You're into writing and art
[x] One of your favourite music genre is rock.
[x] You believe in "innocent until proven guilty" theory.
[ ] One of your favourite colors is red or gold.
[x] Good grades at school.
[ ] One of the worst things you can do is lie.
[x] You plan on going to college.
TOTAL: 7

HUFFLEPUFF:
[ ]You're content with mostly everything in your life right now.
[x] You laugh a lot.
[ ] You like to follow trends.
[x] Politics suck.
[x] You love to swim
[ ] Water polo is awesome.
[ ] Pink is one of your favourite colours.
[ ] Black is morbid & depressing.
[ ] You're an optimist.
[ ] You're very emotional.
[ ] You believe in going steady at a young age.
[ ] You haven't made fun of anyone this month.
[ ] Loyalty is the MOST important thing in a relationship.
TOTAL: 3

RAVENCLAW:
[x] You're depressed to a certain extent.
[x] You love to read.
[x] You appreciate theatre & arts.
[ ] Sports suck.
[ ] Hate is completely unneeded.
[ ] Indie is one of your favourite genre of music.
[x] Every once in a while you have little anger outbursts.
[x] Lying is sometimes okay.
[x] Blue is one of your favourite colours.
[x] Knowledge is the key to power
[ ] Sarcasm is the best kind of humour
[x] People should know what they're talking about before they talk.
TOTAL: 8

SLYTHERIN:
[x]There's at least one person you hate.
[ ] Basketball is a good sport.
[ ] Football is amazing.
[x] Black is a cool color.
[x] You've lied about something serious
[x] You're a very deep person
[ ] You are not very loyal.
[x] You like heavy metal.
[ ] You make school seem more important than it is.
[x] You're scared to grow up.
[ ] Anger is one of your primary feelings.
[x] You have trust issues.
[ ] Guilty until proven innocent.
Total: 7

Huh. Who knew?

I'd be a badass Ravenclaw.

A few notes on the road trip.

A few notes...

I wandered back into lower east Tennessee today, after a few days out of town. A few quick notes:

1. Is there one Kentucky state trooper for every resident of the state? Jesus, you couldn't sling a handful of cat litter without hitting three state trooper cars either going up I-24 or coming down I-75. Are the state coffers that low? Since your old pal Big Stupid Tommy has had a couple of speeding occurrences in the past year, he's a little paranoid about the guys with blue lights and too much spare time. It might have cut a bit off my travel time were it not for those guys....

2. I hate the St. Louis Cardinals, right? They got a helluva a stadium, though. Great crowd. And after the game, I was out of the St. Louis metro within 10 minutes. Spiffy, huh? Atlanta, and another city I'll mention momentarily could take lessons.

3. The city of Cincinnati, Ohio could take a lesson on little things like: competence of staff directing traffic; having more than one lane of traffic on that one corner of the stadium leading away from the stadium; and (this one's important) having interstate directions signs that don't lie. Though I thoroughly enjoyed my trip back into Kentucky, I'd prefer it that if the sign says "To I-75," I'd like to end up somewhere near I-75 and not in the middle of a Old Fat Elvis Presley song.

4. I will admit some fault in that late night excursion through the streets of Cincinnati--if I'd just remembered the name of the road my hotel was on, I'd have realized that I travelled it for a couple miles before getting back on the interstate. If I'd just stayed my course for three or four more miles, I'd have ended up where I needed to be.

5. Next road trip, let's not pick the hottest fucking week of the year? I love baseball, but seeing a game at Busch Stadium and Great American with several thousand warm blooded mammals, in the midst of a 99 degree heatwave does not make for a completely comfortable or dry experience. (Damn, it was 99 at game time for the Cardinals and Padres, and 93 when the game ended at 10:00. How's that for bullshit?)

6. Ever consume something that you enjoyed from your youth, and find it awful, nigh undrinkable in your adulthood? I don't know who in their right mind would drink that foul monkey piss called "Big Red," though I remember enjoying it on many trips north to see family in my childhood.

More later. I'll close by saying that, as I pulled into my home town, that I kinda wish I'd hit one more stadium.

But there's always next road trip.

Incommunicado

Incommunicado

Well campers, your old pal Tommy's heading out into the great green world for a few days. Gonna see some baseball, gonna see some world I've never seen before. No posting for a few days, unless some kindly hotel has a courtesy internet connection, at which time I will promptly entertain you with some manner of fart joke/anecdote taken from my life on the road.

Unless that happens, we'll holler at you cretins come Friday or so....

So, I got tagged....

So, I got tagged...

Tish tagged me with this little thingamajig, which originated here. In it, I interview myself, as if I'd just discovered this blog......

Interviewer: So, I'm cruising the interweb. I was originally searching for Korma recipes, and I end up getting sidetracked, and happen your site. What's the deal here?

Tommy: I'm not quite sure what you mean.

Interviewer: Tell me me what it is you do here, at your Big Stupid Tommy interweb blog site.

Tommy: As opposed to the Big Stupid Tommy toaster blog site?

Interviewer: (long, angry pause) That's one!

Tommy: What's one?

Interviewer: You get three chances! You piss me off three times, and I hit you so hard you explode into thousands of butterflies.

Tommy: You'd have to hit me pretty hard....

Interviewer: I could do it. Don't doubt my might.

Tommy: Sure...don't doubt you. What was your question again.

Several minutes pass where the interviewer is shuffling through papers, which is rather irksome, since he had to lean into a bag by his seat to pull out papers specifically to shuffle.

Interviewer: So. What is it that you do here?

Tommy: On my blog?

Interviewer: On your blog.

Tommy: Well. It's just a little site I've kept for a few years now. It's where I come to post little things that I write. I started it because I was laboring under the delusion that I was a writer, but I wasn't making myself write anything. Mostly I just put the stupid things up that pop into my head.

Interviewer: Like fart jokes?

Tommy: Yeah, like fart jokes. I like fart jokes.

Interviewer: Do you know any?

Tommy: Upon further thought, I can't think of any real fart jokes. I can think of several fart anecdotes, but no real jokes about or concerning farts."

Interviewer: Do you have one of those anecdotes you'd like to share?

Tommy: When I was a kid, my grandmother had a stroke. She ended staying for a while up in Ft. Sanders for a while. That summer, we headed up there fairly often. On one trip, my aunt and uncle came to visit from Delaware.

During one elevator ride up to the center where they kept my grandmother, and the other stroke patients, my aunt and I were joined by a patient in a wheelchair, and two nurses. I was nose-deep in my new issue of "Cracked" magazine, and my aunt was, I suppose, staring at the door of the elevator, waiting for it to be open. Without warning, the guy in the wheelchair (who seemed mostly catatonic) cuts a buzzsaw fart that I don't even know he was aware enough to appreciate.

One nurse turns to the other and says "Doctor who?"

Here, the interviewer laughs. For a long, long time. In fact, Tommy has time to go to the fridge and get a bottle of water.

Interviewer (wiping a tear from his eye): How wonderfully droll....

Tommy: Yeah. That...that was a good one. I guess.

Interviewer: Do you have any other flatulence related tales, somehow involving you?

Tommy: A few, but none I'm at liberty to share.

Interviewer: I have to admit to certain level of disappointment.

Tommy: Sorry. I find that it lessens the impact of the fart story to share too many at one time.

Interviewer: Indeed. You are wise beyond the name of your blog.

Tommy: Thanks, I guess.

Interviewer: So. Your blog. What is it that you do here?

Tommy: Didn't you ask me that already?

Interviewer: Damn. I was hoping to trick you into telling me another fart story.

Tommy: Trust me, you don't have to trick me. You just have to wait. It's a near constant source of amusement.

Interviewer (clearly disappointed and bored at the lack of fart stories): What else do you do here?

Tommy: Well, I write stuff. Sometimes its a reaction to a news item or something somebody else wrote in their blog. Sometimes its something I hope is funny, that just pops into my head. Sometimes, it's a link dump. And occasionally, I'll just post whatever's in my head, or in my heart.

Interviewer: Wait. Go back. What do you mean "Link Dump?"

Tommy: It's not what you think. Sometimes I find something cool on the interweb and want to share it.

Interviewer: Mmmm. Such as?

Tommy: Well, I've been going here and playing Mike Tyson's Punch Out for a couple weeks.

Interviewer: And that's cool?

Tommy: I like it.

Interviewer: Are you any good?

Tommy: Well, it's harder to play using the keyboard. The timing is different. There's nothing like being 30 years old and screaming about Bald Bull beating you yet again. I think the only difference between me being 30 and hollering, and me being 12 and yelling, is that when I was 12, I could throw the Nintendo controller. I can't throw my computer.

Interviewer: Why not? Are you not strong enough?

Tommy: Well, I'd prefer not to have to clean the computer up...

Interviewer: So you're lazy.

Tommy: In my spare time.

Interviewer: Do you have employment?

Tommy: Yeah. I manage a grocery store.

Interviewer: Mmm. How's that workin' out for you?

Tommy: Eh. It takes up a lot of time. I've actually investigated stepping down, so that I can go back to school.

Interviewer: What would you go back to school for?

Tommy: I'd like to be a teacher.

Interviewer: A teacher?!?!?!?!?! Of children?

Tommy: Actually, I was thinking of trying to teach English to dogs, and the various woodland creatures in the forests surrounding my small town.

Interviewer: Ponderous. You just came very close to earning Number Two.

Tommy: Number Two? Somehow this conversation seems to keep coming back to that, with you.

Interviewer: That's Two!!!!

Tommy: Alright.

Interviewer: You think you're funny?

Tommy: I amuse myself.

Interviewer What have you done here on this blog that you think I might find particularly funny?

Tommy: Ummm...what do you like outside of fart jokes?

Interviewer: Very little, in truth.

Tommy: I don't know what to tell you. I got a lot of positive response from the Stegosaurus post. I enjoyed my tribute to my friend, who had passed away. I don't know, beyond that. It always surprises me what gets a rise out of people, and what they ignore.

Interviewer: Perhaps those people are exhibiting taste.

Tommy: Could be. But then, you're the one here interviewing me, so I know where I fall on the food chain.

Interviewer (pushing over a chair): That's Three!!!!!

(And Big Stupid Tommy explodes into a thousand, beautiful butterflies....)

Dammit

Dammit

Resist though I may, those LOLcats finally got me...

Vaykayshun

Vaykayshun

Yeah. Let it be known far and wide that the Tommy who is the keeper of this humble site will not be working for the following week. Working, he says, is for suckers.

He plans on "maxin' and relaxin'" and he'd also like to note that he'd like to punch Will Smith in the eye for taking what he believes to be "his phrase" and not just using it, but pounding that sumbitch into the gray, salty earth.

There will be a road trip, small, though it is. He plans on taking in a major league game at three (and maybe four) stadiums across this great land of ours, thus doubling the number of stadiums he's seen games in, in one fell swoop.

There will also be the first trip of the season made up to Kodak, Tennessee, to see the Double A affiliate of his favorite professional baseball team (that team is not mentioned on the pages of this blog--it is the owner's narcissistic, nearly solipsistic belief that any mention of that team on the pages of this blog brings loss to his team. Scoff though you may, he has nearly completed a formula proving his hypothesis, and though he claims that such a mathematical theorem will bring him Millions of dollars, we here at the editorial offices of Big Stupid Tommy while having no doubt toward the veracity of his claim that his mere mention of a certain team from the midwest brings loss, we remain dubious as toward its money-making power....)

During this week, an effort will be made to catalog exactly which cards are needed to complete his set of 1985 Topps baseball cards. A concerted effort has been made of late to complete said set, the first set that Tommy collected as a child. It's an expensive set to complete, though he's already obtained the three prize cards of the set (the Clemens, the Puckett and the McGwire Olympic card....)

Let us take a moment here at the editorial offices of Big Stupid Tommy note that while it might appear that he is collecting "pictures of men," he believes that he is simply building upon a pastime of his youth.

He would like to note that he's got the odd habit of noting birthdates of those folks featured on that 1985 Topps set. And he's realized that not only is he collecting "pictures of men," he's collecting pictures of Old Men.

(or old pictures of men...at this point, it's a really tiresome thing to debate...as if it's not hard enough to get a girlfriend without people throwing those specific words in that specific order around: Tommy collects pictures of men.

There's not much else to say in the land of Big Stupid Tommy (who is, in fact, several beers into his vacation at this point...and my he say: God Bless those folks at Rogue Breweries...they do some fine, fine work).....

He's on vacation, and he'd like to note that there's not a damned thing any one of you motherfuckers can do about it.

He would also like to laugh maniacally. But he's not quite gotten to that level of arrogance.

Yet.

Songs in your head

Songs in your head

I spoke in an earlier post about getting Homer's "Spider-Pig" song in my head. Here's a related short movie from those folks at Funny or Die. Funny though it is, it does nothing to lessen my belief that Willem Dafoe is a creepy sumbitch.

A Thought or Two

A Thought or Two

No posting for five whole days?

Where is Tommy on this Thursday, where he wakes up around 4:30 with thoughts whirling in his head?

I find myself on the last couple of days of work before I start vacation. It's the closest I get anymore to that feeling of "senioritis," where you know you're coming to the end of the road and it gets harder and harder to find motivation. Which is a problem, considering the biggest part of my job is motivating people.

My job's got me in a little bit of a funk, if you want the truth. Has for a while. It comes largely down to this: I've never been one who's believed that your job should define who you are. But if you look over the past couple of years, mine has done exactly that. I've cancelled more plans with friends, rearranged my schedule more times, lost more sleep over this stupid little job of mine than really is allowable, if I'm going to take that philosophical course of thought.

I'm taking a couple of courses this fall. Long distance learning, type of things. I'd like to get back in the classroom again, but the work schedule didn't allow for it spring before last. At least with an online course, I can do the course work in my own time, and feel like I'm moving toward a different milepost down that path.

An opportunity's possibly coming up, one where I might be able to cut back my responsibilities a touch. It would take a cut in pay, and that's the tough one. It shouldn't be about money, but I've worked hard to get myself out of debt over the past little while, I'm actually enjoying my ability to put a little money back, and not have anything other than housing and a vehicle payment over my head--and that latter not for a whole lot longer.

What I keep telling myself is that the step down would be a cut in aggravation, and would see an increase in spare time. Case in point: It's friggin' August, and this weekend will be the first Tennessee Smokies game of the season I'll see--and the Double A regular season ends in September. I was stoked when they became the Cubs' Double A affiliate. This weekend will be the first game I see up in Kodak this year.

What I'll have to convince myself of, should this opportunity come to light is that it would also increase my ability to go back to school and go have a social life while still earning a living. The trick is to not let myself get tunnel vision, or be shortsighted, and actually make the choice between shitting or getting off the pot.

Just going to have to discuss my options, I reckon. Find out what they all are, and get them laid out on a table.

----

A couple other odds and ends:

Went to see The Simpsons Movie last night. I enjoyed it, on the whole. Thought it maintained a good level of energy throughout, and hit all the right notes with the major characters (i.e. they kept "Jerkass Homer" to a minimum).

Plus, I've been singing "Spider-Pig" to myself all night last night, and all morning since I got up.

That might turn from a positive to a negative before it's all said and done.

----

How long was the movie Pathfinder in theaters? I don't even remember seeing it, even after seeing trailers and posters and standees up at theaters for it for months (stretching maybe even into years.)

I got it from Netflix this week.

I'm a sucker for movies about the Norsemen. Thirteenth Warrior? Cheesy yet Awesome. Erik the Viking? Terribly underrated.

This one's alright, given my already mentioned affinity for Viking movies. Lots of mindless action. Pretty gory. But on the whole, it wasn't bad. It just surprised me to see it coming up on DVD from Netflix, considering that I was still kind of waiting to see it pop up in theaters.

Which leads me back to the beginning topic of this post--maybe if I weren't so mother loving busy at that job of mine, I'd look up and see that there's a world outside the walls of a grocery store, from time to time.