aah. a perfect time for this

I took more photos, but there are a few and I have to do a few things around the house 'else I will be here until midnight and I STILL won't have any clean panties.

I put some new photos on flickr...mostly of my latest landscaping attempts.

Introducing: Abigail Ravenwood

Ya'all can totally shit your pants now, because look what I have to cuddle on!!
My mom's new puppy and her name is Abbie- Part Bichon, part Lhaso Apso. She's a rambunctious little sucker and her teeth are not merely teeth, yet tiny little exacto blades. She thinks that my brother's (large) chow is her mom, she drives him crazy. She's so freaken adorable.

Gary: the mystery.

This is a picture of a man that comes into the bar (sorry it's not very good quality). I don't know very much about him, but let me tell you what I do know: I know that his name is Gary. Gary drinks draft beer (because it's cheap) and shots (bottles) of Blackberry Brandy. He's gentle, and mostly quiet when he drinks. I'm not sure if he's homeless, but I heard he got thrown out of the St. Vincent DePaul homeless shelter for being drunk. The girls from the bar up the street say he's loud and yells at himself. He never does that in my bar. I like Gary. There's something about him that is gentle. He's less juggernaut and more lumpenproletariat. Harmless.

The owner opens the bar at 6am for the 3rd shift crowd and I'm pretty sure Gary is standing outside to get his usual seat in front of the television, remote control in hand as soon as Tom arrives. I have found myself repeatdly turing this one telelvision's volume down, only to realize that is was just the background noise of the BUSINESS WE'RE TRYING TO RUN interfering with Gary's favorite program on the food network. He wears the same clothes everyday and really doesn't stink, although some say he does, but I think it's just based on his appearance. Today I heard he's about 56 years old, but looks much older. He only weighs about 100 lbs.

He had a job, I'm not sure what he was doing but he says he's a body tech.
The day he got fired, he walked into the bar and started complaining "You'll have to write this one down, I lost my job.." as I waited to get the money for his alcohol. "Gary, you already have a tab. You have to pay it before I can give you more today." I said gently. Just then, this young "dude" with a pinky ring turned around and said "Wha? What's his tab?"
"ten fifty." I said.
"HERE. I'll pay his tab for him." the "dude" said.
"GARY. THIS DUDE IS PAYING YOUR TAB." I shook his shoulder in excitement...
"uhh. Yeah, well, I didn't ask him to." he said, groggy.
wha?.
Gary thanked the "dude" after my reaction and said he didn't know that he was actually paying his tab.
So there he is, old lucky Gary sittin at the bar. Everyday.

Tom, the owner, ended up giving Gary shots of 151 instead of the usual Blackberry Brandy on his birthday because he was telling EVERYONE it was his birthday and that's Tom's way of being a smartass. After the third shot, the cussing started because he realized he wasn't drinking brandy. He sat on the barstool for about 10 more miutes and stumbled out the door.

Yesterday, when I arrived for my shift at 11am, he had a copy of the want ads and his glasses set next to the bar phone. A few hours went by and I haden't seen Gary pick up the phone, let alone circle an ad in the paper. So I went to help him. I found at least six jobs that he could've called. Jobs I WOULD CALL IF I NEEDED A JOB. "Hell, I slop dishes around at a banquet center. YOU CAN WASH DISHES UP THE STREET, GARY." I sternly advised.
He threw it off with, "yeah, but I'm gonna get a real job. That's only minimum wage."

Tonite, Gary was wreckless with the tab granted to him. He did fourteen shots of Brandy, and had four beers untill the keg was kicked, and started to drift into slumber while sitting at the bar. I finally cut him off. He argued with me. He KEPT asking for shots, I kept turing the TV down and turning HIM down while having to argue about why.

Alright then. I finally gave him a shot. OF DIET COKE. He did THREE shots of diet coke and didn't utter a word about it. He was still drifting into sleep though. I gave him some bread & butter and he ate it. As we were cleaning up, he was still sitting there. Tom went and played some Judas Priest and Metallica on the jukebox, full volume. He left within minutes.
See ya tomorrow, Gary. You mystery man.

I just set up a Flickr account. I was starting to get worried about all the photos on my server. I think they're taking up alot of room.
Along with the photos I post here, you'll be able to see others there as well.


This is my friend Mike, and his freakin adorable nephew, Anthony. Anthony knows he is "eighteen months old".


So much to see out there.

The contents of my boot:

- Brand new ceiling fan just purchased from Loew's.
Ceiling fans are pretty cheesy. And the ones that aren't the cheesiest of all, are more than I wanted to spend to be able to sleep without worring about the cats knocking over the box fan and the house burning down. I mean, I don't have the best record in "burning houses down".

to the right, under the fan box, in that green nylon bag is my TENT.
I carry it in my trunk at all times. Just in case.

to the right of my tent is a duffel bag full of my riding gear.
there is: chaps, half chaps, gloves, helmet (on top, the big black spot) a pair of breeches I hate to wear and usually carrots.

at the bottom of the photo are my CD's: Jack Johnson, Ween, Phish, Pink Floyd, "music for warm weather" a favorite mix from my friend, Jimmie Vaughn, Louis Armstrong, Beastie Boys, a booty music mix, a blues mix and a mix with all of Prince's dirty songs on it.
Then, my camera bag which is navy blue, that includes flash cards, batteries/battery charger, and a camera.

My red Roces rollerblades.
At one time they were my most prized posession, until that little girl decided to loopty loop in front of me on her tri-cycle.
I rollerbladed 12 miles mostly every day...years ago. Now I put them on and I can barely breathe. One of the things I need to dedicate more time to this summer.

to the left of the rollerblades are my Ariat riding boots. You can only see the tip of one.
They are the best riding boots EVER.