FeralBlog

I just ran down to my local groceria (that’s Spanish for grocery store, if you’re a gringo), to pay too much for a chai at the newly-opened in-store Star-bucks. For whatever reason this particular Starbucks location is run by what must be absolute morons, as they have on more than one occasion had just one person there to do everything; take orders, get money, make change, make order, correct you when you say “large” (“oh, a venti!” (as if “large” is some sort of exotic word from a foreign language which has made it into the English lexicon, such as “hors d’oeuvres”, or “sphincter”)). But I digress.

While my skim milk was steaming I headed over to the bakery section of the store itself, with nothing but a Boston Creme donut on my mind. At first I didn’t see them. Then I saw what I could have sworn was a Boston, but it was a Danish cleverly hidden under a layer of chocolate frosting. Grrr. No Boston Cremes to be had. Ok, no problem. They have éclairs. I grabbed one, swung by to get my drink, paid my $.45 for my baked good and left.

Back at my desk, database update script chugging along, and time to take a bite out of my breakfast. First bite, no creme. Ok, fine. They must have injected it in the other end. Second bite. Hmm… something is wrong here. Perhaps I should have noticed then how decidedly light my éclair was. I get about halfway in and come to the sad realization that this morning, there will be no creme. Now, what sick bastard would go around making a donut-like pastry that looks like an elongated Boston Creme but is only a hollow shell of what a real donut should be?

Here’s the conversation I immediately had with the Feral Marketing Department:

[08:03:08] FMD: who makes an éclair without cream?
[08:03:12] FMD: commies, that’s who.
[08:03:22] Matt: filthy reds
[08:03:29] FMD: ferreals
[08:03:34] Matt: of course there were no boston creme donuts
[08:03:39] Matt: those were the first choice
[08:03:59] FMD: fucking donut nazis.
[08:04:08] Matt: “no creme for you!”
[08:04:21] Matt: i’m not gonna even eat the last third
[08:04:25] Matt: that’s my political protest
[08:04:30] Matt: in fact, i just may blog about it.
[08:04:38] FMD: you should
[08:04:45] FMD: that’s why you have a blog, after all.

Amen, brother. Amen.

Ryan has blogged our LA weekend getaway, and it’s pretty much spot on. Except for the part when I totally had sex with Nicole Richie and Paris Hilton in the bathroom of the Starbucks on Hollywood Blvd. I know you heard all the stories about them hating each other, but I’m totally a peacemaker like that.

My pictures (which are pretty much the same as Ryan’s, just more of them) are here.

Forget flying cars. Forget anti-gravity boots and jetpacks. Forget a single pill that cures cancer, HIV, Alzheimer’s and all other diseases. I have seen the future, and it is now. Last night I ordered pizza ONLINE, and it was delivered in Ten Fucking Minutes. Truly we are living in some outlandish sci-fi wonderland when that sort of thing can take place.

I’m at a crossroads with my facial hair. I had enough of the huge chops a few weeks ago, so cut them down to my last facial hair style, which was more of a straight sideburns to the jawline, ala PartyBoy.

It’s just a temporary fix for now, as I try and figure out what to do next. Kim is pushing really hard for a Jason Lee/My Name is Earl moustache kind of thing, but I can’t see myself going that route. Perhaps the more devilish moustache and goatee? Just the goatee? Help!

Update: Pat sent along some good ideas.

Update 2: Through the magic of photoshop, we can see what I would look like with all of these looks. Many thanks to Pat for yet more stellar image mashups.

I’ve been in the habit lately of leaving my wallet at home or in the car. Instead, I’ve been using the snazzy money clip that was one of my groomsman gifts from David and Casey’s wedding to hold a few bucks, my driver’s license and my one debit card. Unfortunately, this means I usually forget to bring my grocery discount card when I go shopping.

When I signed up for the card, I gave a bunch of bogus info. Being a homeowner means that you get plenty of crap mail as it is, and I didn’t want to add to that pile. Last week when picking up a couple of things, I was cursing myself for not remembering to bring the card in, when the woman in front of me just gave her phone number because she had forgotten hers, too. Curious, and remembering my lovely step-auntie Margot saying that the stores’ databases were so huge that pretty much any phone number would have a hit, I stepped up and typed in my real cell phone number. The cashier finished ringing up my total, handed me my reciept and said “Ok, you saved $2.32 today. Thank you, Mr. um… Garcia?” With as Hispanic of a look I could muster on my ultra-whiteboy face I grabbed the reciept and strode off, trailing clouds of glory behind me.

I was left to defend the house Monday night against the roving hoardes of kids. It’s a quiet street, so I hadn’t really expected too much traffic. A few bags of Snickers and Hershey’s Kisses and blowpops (no crappy candy here!), and I figured I was ready. Oh, how wrong I was.

I don’t know where all these kids came from, but they popped out of the woodwork in full force when there was FREE CANDY at stake. The only children I had seen in my neighborhood before were the two slightly unwashed-looking tykes from next door who like to play in our yard from time to time. Monday night they were everywhere. I was working late trying to catch up after a travelling mishap that had me starting work late, and every 5 minutes was interrupted by the doorbell.

Even with all the interruptions, all the kids were pretty cute. Lots of princess/Barbie costumes for the girls (furthering my theory on why so many couples go for lavish marriages), some Grim Reaper/Incredibles costumes for the boys. One girl came as Morticia Addams, and was thrilled and a little shocked when I knew what she was dressed as. C’mon kid, I used to be goth!

There was only one group of older lazy kids. You know, mid-teens with no costume. They had a token mask or two, but I pointed out they were a little old to be doing this. Hell, they were probably driving themselves from house to house. Rest assured those kids got to pick from my bag of weird Japanese candy. Hah hah hah, suckers.

My stepmom is in town this week; “Evil”, we like to call her. She’s actually wonderful and I love her to pieces. Her sister lives not too far from me, and Evil likes to come out about once a month during the fall/winter/spring, when the weather is much nicer here than in New Jersey.

I hadn’t seen her in quite awhile, so we’ve been trying to spend as much time as possible while she’s here. Yesterday we went to Sabino Canyon and took the last tram up to the top of the 3.8 mile road and hiked down. It was absolutely perfect weather; warm and breezy, and cooling off nicely as the sun went down. Right as we were getting back to the parking lot, the sun was slipping down behind the horizon. Fantastic timing, really. On the way back to dropping her off at her sister’s we had some delicious sushi grub, and I have to say it was a pretty great afternoon.

Eating Chex Mix first thing in the morning is the same as having cereal, right?

• Vegas was a fantastic time. Kyra and I went climbing, she got shit on by birds, and we both climbed well considering our fairly off-the-couch state. I got absolutely destroyed at the poker tables, and thankfully Kyra fared much better. Heck, the only game I beat was $6/12 at the Mirage! I should have stayed there the whole time.
• While I was away Otis had an old hematoma on his hip get infected and swell up to the size of a softball. He got sliced, which means that he’s been steadily leaking blood all over the house for the last week. Not nearly as bad as when I was gone and he first got opened up; that was some seriously C.S.I-style shit. Kim took pictures, and I’ll try and get them up.
• The weekend consisted of manly-man time with cutting down the mulberry tree in the back yard. I still can’t really lift my arms today after hauling around all those big heavy sections of the trunk. Plus, my re-enactment of the door axing scene from “The Shining” might have gone a little overboard.

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my dad and laura, originally uploaded by feralboy.

This is my dad with my older sister. Looks a little familiar, huh? Thanks to Laura for scanning and posting it.