There's no 'I' in 'Asshole'

The neighbors' pygmy goat (AKA "little goat") remains as adorable as ever. The other day, I saw him shake himself off like a dog. Also, he was seen scratching his back on the fence.

I also took some photos outside this evening, so if anyone has interest in checking them out, feel free to do so. They're all up on the flickr (along with Little Goat).

Digging through my LP collection, I dragged out an unopened album, 1988 print... still with its plastic wrapping sealed and intact. For some reason, I remember having listened to it, but apparently not. It makes me want to rummage more closely through my collection since I haven't added anything to it since being able to aimlessly wander two blocks to Jerry's Records while living in Pittsburgh.

Anyhow, the point is: my cartridge probably needs to be replaced. I may be able to get away with only replacing the needle, but the turntable got pretty banged up when being shipped from the East coast. I'm surprised that it even works anymore (well, it "sort of" works, I can't really control the drive apart from pulling power from the unit). So, I started looking for replacement cartridges, which led me, naturally, to stupid high-end turntable made for jackasses who have too much money and are willing to spend $400 on a dust cover. After drooling over/being disgusted by a $12,000 turntable, I decided to peruse this site's LP and music collection (which, apparently, they also sell.)

So what sort of douchebag sells horribly overpriced "audiophile" turntables? Apparently, the type of douchebag that, apart from the obvious favorites, sells a whole pile of non-standard records that can be readily found right smack in my collection. How am I the demographic for this nonsense?

So yea... God Fucking Damn It.

I just realized that I should con my way into getting a Department of Labor e-mail address. I'm pretty sure that andrey@dol.gov is available. Stupid Department of Labor cramping my style. I should own dol.gov!

In other matters, after spending $1600 on my car over the past two days (tires are more expensive than I had remembered), I got an interesting customer service survey phone call today. Apparently, the lady on the other end didn't hear me pick up the line because the first thing that I heard (before even saying "hello") was:

"...If you don't stop doing that, you're going to get hit!"
"Hello?"
"Hi, Andrey?"
"Yes?"
"Hi, I'm calling from Acura of Escondido about your recent service..."

Now, I'm assuming that she was speaking to her kids, and I'm assuming that she must have been working from home, but even with those assumptions, it's still a pretty odd thing to do. Now that I think of it, I'm really hoping that she was talking to her kids; I think that is the best version of any possible scenario.

Escaped to Santa Monica during the night. Just found out that my old apartment complex is curently burning down. Hoping that the current house wil survive... I really don't want to lose all of my worldly posessions.

The interesting thing about being cut off from television, radio, and land lines is that you don't know when the entire world becomes engulfed in flames until someone calls you at five in the morning to tell you that, essentially, the apocalypse is here.

As some may or may not know, Southern California is burning down... again. The same sweet Santa Ana winds that give us temperatures in the 80s during the winter also give us the burning hell that may destroy us all... mostly because dry + hot + high wind = fire. There are a ton of fires everywhere. Luckily, the number seems to be going down... un-luckily, this is because multiple fires have joined together to form super-fires.

Here's a map of San Diego County from early this morning:


By now, the Witch Creek and the San Pasqual Valley fires have joined forces and are running to burn the fuck out of Rancho Santa Fe. Since Rancho Santa Fe is in the top-three richest communities in the country, I can only imagine the hilarity of its current evacuation... rich people piling Picassos, jewlery, and piles of money into their beamers as they're running out the gates of their estates.

In all seriousness, though, these fires are a pretty big deal. There are burning houses in Rancho Bernardo (area where I work... that was evacuated in the middle of the night) that are getting no attention because all fire crews are swamped.

As far as I know, the Santa Ana winds generally blow southwest... bringing in the dry desert air. Right now, there's only one fire upwind from here (from what I've seen on the internet), and that's the one on Palomar Mountain (also known as Hell Mountain from a previous post). I haven't heard very much about this one, but I'm hoping that it's not major/doesn't kill me and burn my stuff.

The interesting thing is: there's no way that I could tell that any of this is happening from the house... the air is clear and fresh out here. This may not seem odd to you, but keep in mind that only a couple of miles away (down the hill), you enter a world where the sun is blood red from the crap in the air. Also, I heard that it was raining ash in Pacific Beach and Point Loma... so... yea. IT WAS FUCKING RAINING ASH! ARE YOU GETTING THIS? IS THIS THING ON?

In other news, I have come down with a cold. I think that my body is naturally ironic.

Autumn has landed in San Diego, and unlike the stripper of the same name, its touch is cool and misty.

It has been overcast and generally... moist... in the mornings. Not really wet or rainy (although, we did get a drizzle over the past few days... the first precipitation for Southern California since buffaloes were presidents), but definitely moist. I'm not sure how it happens, but the foggy dew in the mornings makes everything seem wet even though it really is not. Apart from being a big "fuck you" to the vegetation in the region ("oh no, don't worry... there shalln't be enough precipitation to nourish you an any way, but it sure will seem like there's a chance."), it mostly serves as a means to make it amazingly difficult to get out of bed at any reasonable hour.

The roads do not fare particularly well either. A combination of oily/moist road surfaces and freaked-out Californian drivers makes for a lengthy and accident-filled commute. After Tokyo Drifting to work HOURS ago, I still can't believe that the skies remain overcast. Perhaps I've become spoiled, but I distinctly remember the brochure for Southern California highlighting 100% sunny days and absolutely no chance of overcast (along with promises of promiscuous women and guaranteed TV shows for everyone who moves.)

On the bright side, Elvira and Mary made pancakes at work, so I got to stuff my face (trust me, I did it in the most dignified manner of "stuffing face" ...and no, that's not some sort of sexual euphemism) full of raspberry and blueberry and pancakey goodness... with our host, two-time Philadelphia Regional Grammy-winning singer, Maple Syrup!

Anyhow, the point is: I feel a bit weird about my upcoming birthday. Also, I can already tell that this jacket is going to need some serious leather professor elbow patches in the not too distant future. That way, my elbow fabric will be protected from wear, and I'll get to constantly struggle with a subconscious feeling like I should be teaching introductory college art history.

WHAT'S UP, MOTHERFUCKERS!?!?!?!

Alright, now that we got that out of the way, let's begin.  I've been bad about updating this thing lately, and that's because I'm a bad person... mostly lazy, and mostly lazy.  Sooooo... now you get a brain dump of unorganized information ejaculated onto your computer screen.

Yesterday was the Comedians of Comedy show.  This year, Patton Oswalt, Brian Posehn, and Maria Bamford are touring with Jasper Redd, Brent Weinbach, and Sheng Wang.  Well, they actually have different people depending on the stop of the tour, but in this case, the lineup was as described.  All of the comics were great, and the show went off quite successfully (well, there were some hecklers and then there was the "sick friend" of the hecklers who pushed his way to the front to breath death onto everyone surrounding him, and also to complain to Patton that his heckler friend was kicked out.)  Anyhow, the show was great, especially positioned dead-center and first row (for a standing room only show).

Tomorrow, it's Louis C.K. and Todd Barry, and then Monday is Michael Ian Black to round off the crazy binge of comedy puddings.

Other things happened too, but now is both the time and the place to tell you about them; however, I'm not the time nor the place to have the initiative to tell you about them, so you'll have to use your imaginations.

Kickfully yours,
Andrey

This was parked outside the pet store. I didn't ask, but from observations, I've gathered that it's a traveling neuter show?

The only way that this could have been better is if they were fanning out the smell of delicious meats in order to lure unsuspecting animals into getting their junk de-junked.

Since I bruised and scraped myself up while biking last weekend, it's been difficult doing some things... for instance, wearing pants.  In fact, I've been in my underpants since Sunday.  On one hand, it's pretty great; on the other hand... something else.  Oh, the annoyance is that I don't really want to go out without a pretty good reason.  Yea, that can be the other thing.  I've been working from home these two days, so being in my underpants the whole time is definitely a viable option.

Alright, I have to get back to watching the back of my left thigh turning all sorts of exciting colo(u)rs of the rainbow... also, I should food.

Yesterday was Stone's 11th Anniversary Party. While not as crazy as last year's 10th anniversary shindig, it was, as always, a fantastic time. There's something about the atmosphere that makes everyone get along and become the best of friends while surfing the wave of delicious intoxication.

Unfortunately, this year, Dogfish Head and Rogue were not able to make it, but there were plenty of delicious treats from all around the country and the world. From Port in San Diego, to Ommegang in New York, to Victory in Pennsylvania, to St. Bernardus in Belgium.

The point is, I got very drunk. Great beers + good local food + craft cheese makers + craft soda and root beer makers + local nut makers = a delicious summertime afternoon. I got hit at least two times by bags of flying nuts, and I made one of the cheese people to make me a cheese cracker in the shape of a vagina (granted, this was after eating the cheese that was shaped like a penis.)

Much like last year, coming home resulted in passing out in an awkward position on the bed and waking up some hours later. Last year, this was followed by a trip to Churchill's (an awesome bar in San Marcos) for more drinking, dancing, merriment, and live music with everybody from Stone. This year, we decided to chill out a bit, so we randomly went to IHOP, of all places.

As for the subject, that's exactly the phrasing I used yesterday when asking the ladies at Redstone Meadery for a sample of their fine craft.

Oh beer, you're so good, <3,
Andrey