Holy
crap in a Bundt pan...
Due to the
recent well-publicized shortage of
amateur websites produced by assholes who consider themselves to be
clever, I
have been called into action. My name is Jeff Kay, and I’m an
Ugly American living
on the cusp of a mid-life crisis, near Scranton, PA. And I’m here to
serve, baby.
The
State of My Fat Ass A journal of
sorts, updated every once in a while.
--
Unless something unexpected happens, this will be my last update for a
while. Until September 25, to be exact. I'm planning (plotting) to take
next week off from work, and the website too. We're right on the cusp of
shit turning crazy at the job, and this will probably be my last chance
for downtime until January. So I'm taking it.
During the week I want to get some sleep, as well as bust my ass during
the daytime and finish writing a little booklet, a zine type of thing,
that I've been tinkering around with for months. Under normal
circumstances there's no time for extracurriculars, and I really have to
get it finished or I'll very likely lose my mind. I'm in a situation now
where I'm all fired-up about the project, but can't work on it. And
that's a bad combination.
I hate the thought of TheWVSR growing cobwebs for a week, but I'm sure
we'll all make it through. I will update the Further Evidence
link every day, and leave the webcam on, but there probably won't be any
written dispatches from the puke-green subterranean walk-in closet that
is the Surf Report bunker, until Monday 9/25.
Just thought you should know.
-- To complicate matters, a California big-shot is in town, and I need
to get to work early today. I thought I was going to get out of the
traditional Power Dinner last night, but the e-mail came at four
o'clock. I had been summoned.
We went to an Italian place that was new to me, and had an over-the-top
expense-account meal with all the trimmings, and showed our visitor some
hospitality. It wasn't too bad, I guess, but my personality goes counter
to such things.
I love going out with friends and family, but career-related networking
and ass-snorkeling and playing the game are not exactly my cup of
tea. I'm not good at it, it makes me feel like a phony, and I do what I
can to avoid such situations.
Last night I took a seat way down at the end of the table, away from the
main attraction, and just tried to blend in with the ferns and whatnot.
With any luck I could just sit in silence, adjust my facial expressions
to correspond with conversation, and be home by nine.
I saw that most of the
pasta dishes seemed to involve seafood of some sort. And since I'm not a
big fan of the crustaceans, I ordered an outsize steak. It was good, and
should've been at those prices. I also had some calamari before
dinner, which seemed to get bigger the longer I chewed. Again: not a fan
of the sea creatures. I kept thinking of Squidward.
The waitress was good at keeping the Yuenglings coming, and the ordeal wasn't
overly painful. It was one of those things that's far worse during the
worrying stage, than in reality. And the guy who likes to make pathetic
WV jokes wasn't even there, so I didn't even have to listen to any of
that crapola. So Jeff, did you have a one-hole or two-hole outhouse
growing up? Hardy-fucking-har; I'm simply buckled-over in laughter.
So anyway, the California guy is still here and plans to spend the
morning with us. I guess I'd better be there. Right?
-- It sounds like the New York Yankees are on the verge of moving their
AAA farm team to Scranton. Unbelievable. They've been in Columbus as
long as I can remember: the Columbus Clippers. But there have been
negotiations going on, and the Yankees announced yesterday that they're
leaving Ohio. And on Monday there's supposed to be a local announcement
of some sort.
Pretty cool.
The Phillies top farm team was located here for many years, but they
left in a huff over a disagreement about the remodeling of the
clubhouses, or some such thing. What a grand gang of douches.
I was reading about all this earlier today, and found out that the
departing team, the Phillies team, is the direct descendant of the old
Charleston Charlies, which used to play in Charleston, WV when I was
growing up there. After they left Charleston, in 1984, they went to
Maine, and then to Scranton. Am I following them around, or are they
following me? I just don't know.
But I'm excited that AAA ball will still be played here, because I was
highly skeptical. I've watched these things play out before.... I was
fully expecting a team from the Women's Fast-Pitch Softball League to
take the Red Barons' place. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
-- I've probably mentioned the fact that Paul Westerberg, another of my
spiritual advisors, did the music for an upcoming animated film, called Open
Season. Seems kinda weird, but I guess they gave him a wheelbarrow
full of cash, and I'm glad to hear it. The man deserves to be paid.
Here's an article about it, and it says there's even talk of a possible Academy
Award nomination. Holy shitballs, Batman! Paul at the Oscars?! I
think my brain would finally, and completely, say fuck it, and just shut
down.
Here's one of the new songs from the soundtrack. Sounds good! Love you
in the fall? Is he singing about bourbon?!
-- I really need to go.... But before I do, check out this
greatness. It
tells you what talk radio shows are on the air right now, and provides
handy-dandy links to their live streams. And it's not just American
shows either. A few days ago they had Clive Bull listed. And last
night it helped me find a station in California that was playing old
Phil Hendrie shows. Very cool. I've got that baby bookmarked both at
home and at work.
-- And I'm gonna turn this thing over to our good friend Buck
now, and wish you guys a great weekend.
--
Unless something unexpected happens, this will be my last update for a
while. Until September 25, to be exact. I'm planning (plotting) to take
next week off from work, and the website too. We're right on the cusp of
shit turning crazy at the job, and this will probably be my last chance
for downtime until January. So I'm taking it.