Monday, May 03, 2004


Woke up Saturday morning at 5 in the blessed AM. Oh well, might as well get up and make a pot of weekend coffee. During the week it's a blend of leaded and unleaded Folgers. But on the weekend! A fully leaded pot of whatever flavor caught Mrs. A's eye the last time she bought coffee. It just so happens that she found one she liked as has stuck with it: Chocolate Velvet. Mmmmm. Chocolate coffee with cream and Splenda. It's just this side of drinking hot chocolate.

And since Mrs. A was out of town, I got to drink the WHOLE POT myself. For some reason, I started feeling odd about halfway through the pot. Not being a bright boy, I went ahead and drank the whole pot anyway. Those gourmet coffees are too expensive to waste, don't you know. Then, a little after 7 AM, when the YAC rolled out of the sack, SHE wanted to play on the computer, forcing ME to save my game and yield. I mean, after all, I'd been playing for a couple of hours already and I DO know how to share (contrary to what you may have heard), even if it IS all about me.

So what does a brainiac who's feeling a little woozy decide to do, now that the YAC is firmly ensconced in front of the computer? Why break out the forbidden Nintendo game cartridge of course. You know, the one Mrs. A doesn't let me play when the kids are watching 'cause it's too violent? Yeah, that's the one. Bond. James Bond. License to kill. Played the first mission on the easiest setting, not because I can't play the harder settings, but because sometimes you just want to be able to shoot people without thinking too hard. Yeah, I know that's wrong on just about every level, but hey, I'm a complicated guy.

I successfully infiltrated the dam and then turned the thing off. (Aren't you proud of me for not touching that one?)

One of the problems I have with first-person shooters is that they tend to make me nauseous. Not in the disgusted kind of way, but in the Garth Algar kind of way. Something about the backgrounds and the movement. Learned this back in the old Wolfenstein days. Probably a big reason I never got into the Doom stuff. Well, that and the fact that Mrs. A is a lot more fussy about it than I am. The only reason I got to play Wolfenstein is that the kids were little and they went to bed early. Anyway, by the time I turned off the Nintendo I was really feeling ooky (if that's not to technical for ya). I figured eating something might help, and it did, but I spent most of the rest of the day with a little big of nagging nausea.

Got showered and shaved and then drove myself to the haircut store. Told Steve, my barber (stylist just sounds so sissified) that I wanted people to call me "Buzz" when he was through. When it's real short, you can comb it when it's wet by placing both hands on your forehead and moving them straight back (well, and OVER, I mean straight back would be through my skull, and it IS just a wee bit thicker and harder than that). The trick is to get to it while it's still wet. If you take time to Q-Tip the old ears first, it's too late. You're going to have to wet it again to get it to behave.

While I was getting my hairs cut, the YAC helped out by hand-washing the dishes (there weren't very many). Mostly. Except for the few she left out in plain sight on the counter and claimed she never saw ... kids. Saturday afternoon entailed a trip to Sams, a stop at Eckerds (to pick up candy for the movies), home to unload the goods and put the cold stuff away, and then down to the local Blockbuster to select a couple of movies to waste the rest of the day. And that's just what we did.

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