Guess What I Did This Weekend....

It's finally that time of year. No wetsuit. No springsuit, just shorts and a rash guard. The waves have been pretty good through the winter. On this day, the waves were mushy with poor form, but they were surfable. You take what you can get in summer.

I live on the west coast of FL, but if the surf report says there may be a chance of waves, it's a short 2 hr trip across the state to Cocoa Beach. This was actually a little south of Cocoa, between Cocoa and Satellite Beach. We finished our session and headed south into Satellite Beach to a little burrito stand called "Da Kine Diego's" It's an old put put golf that's been converted. There is a small building where you order and all of the seating is outside on decks with tiki hut roofs. We got there just in time to place our order and get a seat. By the time we sat down there was a line out the door, or I guess I should say out the gate and down the sidewalk. The line was made up of mostly teenagers in their baggies, covered with sand and their girlfriends in bikinis. It reminded me of my days growing up on the east coast. Well, everything except the bill. $20 for a couple of tacos, a burrito and a couple of Modelos would have been a non starter for me and my friends back in the day.

Our after session meals went something like this. Everybody throws in what money they have, including change from the ashtray and any coins that have become lodged between the windshield and the dash. The group then goes into a restaurant and huddles to inspect the menu and decide on the order. The group then approaches the counter and the designated spokesperson makes the order, which was usually this:

"Four ice waters and a small fries please."

Writing 101

I decided to take a writing class. Yep. Figured it was about time. Putting all of those lines and squiggles together to make "words" and then grouping these "words" together to convey a thought is a bit beyond me, so I have enlisted the help of a professional.

My first assignment was to create a short piece (300 words) that started with "Pat knew for a long time that a clairvoyant gift was ..." Yep, that's it. Start with that, write 300 words and there has to be a twist at the end. So, here is what I submitted:

Dogs and Sweater Kittens

Pat knew for a long time that a clairvoyant gift was a double edged sword. The ability to divine futures, see pasts and read minds carries with it a tremendous amount of responsibility. The burden could be overwhelming to a person with a conscience or a shred of moral decency. Luckily for Pat, he possessed neither.

Pat focused on her thoughts as he walked towards her in the crowded courtyard, grabbing bits and pieces as he formulated his approach. She was sitting alone at a small table. Her long black hair was stylishly tousled, her sunglasses appropriately retro, and her white tank top and bellbottom jeans fashionably worn. The one foot she had tucked up in her chair revealed a delicate silver ring encircling her middle toe and an anklet adorned with stones the same shocking turquoise as the slurpee she was sipping.

"Beth, how have you been?" Pat said as he strolled casually towards her. "I see you still love your slurpees. Do you mind if I sit down?"

Beth nodded to the seat opposite her and watched through her sunglasses as he sat down."How did you know my name?"

"Don't you remember? I sat behind you in freshman English at…"

"No you didn't. I've never met you before."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Maybe because I've heard enough bad pickup lines that I can spot a creep a mile away." Beth picked up her cup and drew another sip of electric blue through the pink and white striped straw. "Or maybe I'm a mind reader."

"I'll go with option number two," Pat said as he leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table. "So Beth, mysterious and powerful mind reader, what am I thinking?"

"You're thinking about boobs. Mine in particular."

Pat leaned back in his chair as a grin sliced across his lips "Guilty as charged. But if you could really read my mind, you'd know that I'm thinking we should get a drink and a bite to eat. Then head back to my place and let the sweater kittens out to play."

"That's never gonna happen."

"You shouldn't say never, Beth. As all clairvoyants know, you can't see your own future."

"True," Beth said as she lowered her glasses. "But I can see yours. And your life ends abruptly and violently in 3 days."

-end

So, everyone (yes, both of you) please respond with the worst pickup line you have either a) used or b) been used on you.

I have Nothing Remotely Interesting to Say......

And that pretty much sums it up. You would probably think, based on my extensive blogging on this site, that the only things I do are ride around on a motorcycle and make fun of alternative lifestyle penguins. Well, that's not true. I do lots of other things, but those happen to be the only only interesting things I do. I worked yesterday (Sat) and have already worked about 6 hrs today (Sun) and have another meeting at 7:30 PM tonight, because I'm just really cool like that. People ask me "when you have to work weekends like that, don't they give you time off during the week?" I smile and say "yes, they would if I worked in the land of rainbows and unicorns, but unfortunately I work in the real world. Rainbows and unicorns get to go to fantasyland, but the trolls have to stay here. And that's who I work for."

Ciao Baby,
-s

Floral City, Dirt Roads and Harleys

I decided to head for Floral City. It's not too far away, but will provide a good 4+ hrs in the saddle to breathe deep, enjoy the scenerey and chase a little Zen. I loaded up the GPS (not very Zen I know, but I'm an analyst ( read ANAL-yst), and headed out. I'm down the road, punch up my route on the GPS and it says "error, route cannot have more than 50 pts."

FUCK!!

That's not very rock and roll. Barely 2 miles down the road and technical difficulties have derailed the Zen train and sent me back to the house to bang on the keyboard like a retarded code monkey. Ten minutes, a few keyboard strokes and some swearing that would make Sam Kinnison blush and I'm back on the road. The wind in my face, the sun on my skin and some two lane blacktop to soothe the nervous ticks and bitchy attitude that come with 60 hr work weeks.

Open road, old oaks and Spanish moss make dealing with all the jerkoffs at work possible. The weather is perfect. Low 80's, sunny and breezy. I head through Croom National Forest because it seemed like a good idea when I was plotting the route. The map clearly showed that the road cut right through the center of the forest. The road started out as a 2 lane blacktop. Then the center line disappeared. Then it got down to about 1.5 lanes. Then it turned to dirt. Shit. Everybody will tell you that I have a talent for finding dirt roads. Heavy cruiser style bikes aren't made for the dirt and tend to weave and act squirly when forced down these types of roads. I ordered Zen and I got a dirt road. The universal waitress screwed up the order again. When the universal waitress gives you lemons, break out the salt and tequila. I decided to go for it. It looked easy enough and it couldn't be that far.

Looking Back!!

Looking forward. Yeah, it could be that far. About 6 or 7 miles. But eventually it turned to blacktop.

I pulled into Floral City and headed for Shamrock's Irish Pub. The pub is about as Irish as I am, but it has good burgers and cold beer. The parking lot was pretty full, but I find an empty space and pull in. Before I have my kickstand down, a Harley pulls up uncomfortably close to me and a second one pulls in right next to her.

The guy gets off his bike and says "Did you see that asshole pull out in front of me?" The lady responds as she flicks down the kickstand and swings her leg over the bike. "Yeah, I saw you swerve to miss him too. I pulled up next to him and gave him some pipe!" She points to the shiny chrome aftermarket pipes on her bike. The proximity is close with all 3 of us parked in the same parking spot and I feel a bit uncomfortable until she looks at me and says, "My name's Jane and this is Bobby." She shakes my hand and Bobby gives a nod as he's lighting his cigarette. "Nice to meet you. "

I put my helmet on the sissy bar and walk into Shamrocks with Jane and Bobby.

Ciao Baby,

-s

Two Wheeled Zen Chaser

I work in a cube. A gray cube. A gray cube in a big building owned by an international financial institution. Last year I worked in a different gray cube in different building owned by a different international financial institution. One year, one layoff, one bailout, one old job, one new job, TARP money and Barney Frank have all led to 10-12 hr days at the office and working weekends. I worked all last week, all last weekend, all this week and have to work this weekend. I have to work at 10:30 pm tonight for a software implementation. I have to work tomorrow afternoon for another implementation.

My first martial arts instructor used to make us do these breathing exercises and meditate. Hated it. BORING!!! He explained to us that the ancient masters used to do these things every day so that they could build up a reserve of chi. They never knew when they would be challenged or attacked, so this was done to prepare. That way they always had "a pocket full of chi."

My year of change delivered to me a nice severance check (thank you international financial institution number 1) that provided me with the means to purchase a 2 wheeled Zen chaser. With it I plan to chase down some Chi, grab it by the tail and stick it in my pocket. "Hey, is that Chi in your pocket or are you just pleased to see me?"

I'm placing my order with the universal waitress for an order of Chi, medium rare, with side of Zen and a cold beer. To Go!!

Ciao Baby,

-s

Prop 8 is for the BIRDS!!!

I'm in a rush and so this first post is weak. But this is F*ckin FUNNY!!!!!!!

Gay penguins expelled from zoo colony for stealing eggs are given their own to look after following animal rights protest