Say the f word, Darling (or Keyser Soze was here)

After a mostly sleepless night, caused by strange sounds that seemed to emanate from the attic, I plowed through half a day of work before attending today's City Hall meeting.

Sitting in on the Commission meeting was even worse than I had imagined possible - sort of like watching a three-hour porn movie featuring really ugly actors abusing themselves in front of each other -  so I've decided to put it out of my mind for a few days.

Thankfully a call from O.D.D.* helped put me in a better frame of mood. Although it was too late for him to come by Chez Melina, and I was not granting audiences anyhow, his alternately polite and risque talk was sweet. We talked about movies and sex. I admitted I had a mild case of the hots for Gabriel Byrne. Much to my delight, he is also fond of the film The Usual Suspects.

When I hung up, I decided that he can call me darling any time, even when it's preceded by comments like "I love to hear you say fuck, darling".

* See Key to Characters at right.

fear and loathing at Dallas City Hall

I have always wondered what the city's Animal Shelter Commission does, so I decided to download the agenda for tomorrow's meeting and have a look.  This was kind of disturbing - mainly because I saw that they seem to be carrying on secret vendettas against several people I know, including a very decent woman who manages feral cat colonies.  An attorney friend described this as possible abuse of process.

I'm going to attend the meeting tomorrow afternoon. I'm already in a dreadfully poisonous mood just thinking about it, considering that it's common knowledge that our fair city is run by a pack of dimwits with personal agendas.

a career in photo bombing can be yours

Every so often I visit a Web site called This is Photobomb. Yes, it's a one-joke site and pretty juvenile at that, but it's hard not to snigger at some of the pics.

The site even has its own legends, like serial Photobomber Kristen (seen below). Click on the photo below to see some more of her greatest hits, plus complimentary bombing tips.

see more This is Photobomb: Photojackers of the World Unite!

I'm tight where it counts, baby

I'm pleased to report to I finally made time to get my beloved mobile money pit (i.e. the Z3) in for repairs. Although my suspicions of a slipping clutch proved false, the front suspension needed everything from rocker arms to bushings. I had already scoped this out a couple of months ago when my cut-rate mechanic installed new struts; he's not really set up to do more than basic repairs, but he didn't mind identifying and showing me the rocker arm problems.

After the suspension repairs and a front end alignment, the car handles magnificently. All I need to do now is to challenge O.D.D.*  to a 1/4 mile or 1/2 mile race (he owns a vintage Corvette) at some suitable after-midnight venue, preferably when there's a full moon. Winner f*cks the loser.

Now that I've shown the important parts some love, I can start thinking about getting the front spoiler, or bumper, or whatever they're called here fixed. It was partially ripped off a while back when some eegit in a large truck literally ran me halfway off the road - I had no choice but to go up a curb, hence the damage.  My temporary fix was to buy one of those silly bra thingies to hold the torn bit in place. This was rather embarrassing, especially to my acquaintances who had heard me describe this accessory as juvenile.

However, it's kind of fun to ask the car wash guy to "please wash under my bra".  

* See Key to Characters at right.

crash

Even though I easily triumphed over the chat censorship at the office - I installed Adium, the Mac version of Trillian, which worked flawlessly - I haven't had any time to utilize it.

With all the rush jobs raining down upon my drooping auburn head, I'm beginning to wonder if I'll ever be able to catch up at work.  Since I've taken off next Monday to finish my brick removal exploits, and plan to head to Austin after work tomorrow, I really need to be totally caught up by tomorrow EOD. But at the moment, all I want to do is put my head down on my desk and have a nap.

Hopefully tonight's shaolin class will perk me up a bit, or at least take my mind off today's local news.

While surfing during lunch, I saw that some despondent and bitter man had crashed his plane into a building in Austin (about 200 miles south of Chez Melina). While looking at pictures of the crash, I realized that I recognized the area; I usually drove past it when heading into Austin.

Eventually I found the IRS building address online, looked it up, and realized that it was literally only a few blocks away from my biker friend Ryan's apartment. Others who ride in the same motorcycle club live pretty close to the IRS building as well.

Later in the afternoon I read part of the pilot's alleged* last public statement. Although I realise I should be angry that he most certainly killed and/or injured others with his kamikaze signoff, it's hard for me to feel anything else than sorry for him.

* I can never totally believe something I read on the Net unless it's backed up elsewhere. This is because it's simply too easy to make up anything you like and publish it online.