SpaceBrew Malty Musings from Space

BMW vs. Jeep Wrangler

I was walking through one of my favorite stores yesterday when I was assaulted (not really, but come on) by a kiosk sales guy. He didn’t sell kiosks. He had a kiosk setup inside my store for his own company. It’s like he pays a lease fee for that floor space for the afternoon or whatever. Anyway, he asks if I’d be interested in hearing about the brand new bmw model – whatever the hell it was. I’m sure it had an X or an L in there somewhere. You know, something fast.

“Sir, are you interested in hearing about the new bee em double you ex el ex seven el ex ex seven el?” he says eloquently.

To which I reply, “No.”

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I could stop if I would…

Well I’ve added a few new writers to the roster, I’m sure you’ll be seeing some of their work pop up here pretty soon. With traffic going steadily up to ridiculous levels, I reckon the more writers we have on staff, the more the likelihood of having something fresh on the top of the blog list. We’ll see what happens. You can check out their profiles on the writers page.

This weekend Roger and I went out on the boat for a few hours with his lovely fiancee and a buddy of his, and his CopperHound, Spud. Being out in the sun and feeling rather good, I began to imbibe the thick heady golden liquid I love so well. We were anchored and tied up to another boat in the party cove, and I was in the water with my feet between the arms of a life vest, just floating there, throwing the football with a group of guys I’d never met.

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Things That Make Me Go Boom

You know what I hate worse than – well, than almost anything? I hate going to the cobbling farmacy. Seriously. You pull up to drop off your prescription, or – if you’re like me and actually get off your lazy ass – go inside and wait at the counter. You wait while someone says, “Someone will be right with you.” Then you stand there watching them act like they’re doing something really important. More important than you, the customer. Which is the whole reason for their existence.

So after standing there for a pre-determined amount of time that only they can deem appropriate, someone finally decides to walk over and take your scrip. So you stand there while they key it in, then ask you when you’d like to pick it up. Wait. What? Mother cobbler, if it’s gonna be ready in ten minutes, you tell me to come back in ten minutes. Don’t ask me so I might say twenty which gives you a ten-minute break! Cock! Tell me the soonest possible time I can return and pick it up. That fries me, seriously. Then they tell you it will be ready in an hour (after you’ve requested a ten-minute return time). So you return in an hour only to stand there and wait another twenty minutes while they get ready to serve you. Then they finally come to the counter, get your name – as if they don’t remember it – and then say, “Oh he’s filling it right now. It will be ready in just a moment, please have a seat.”

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SpaceBurned

SpaceburnedWell after a busy ass weekend such as this last one, I’m about ready to collapse. Thursday night: I was off Friday, so Thursday became a perfectly legitimate drinking night. Went to Pop’s house, swam, drank. Friday night – went to watch H24’s girls play volleyball. Went out with Ashley, Tami, Tracy, Harmon and Kyle to Sneaky Pete’s afterwards. And drank. You know what’s great about the morning after eating a pile of nachos with about eighty jalapenos on them? Nothing. Saturday, Stout and I went swimming, threw darts, drank beer. Sunday during the day, we went to a water park. I’m redder than an angry Indian in a blood bath. And last night, being the Cowboy game, Jason and I sat at my bar and watched every play. And drank.

I’m just about ready for a little break from the drinking. I think I’ll take off from it for a few nights. I have to be ready to hit it again Friday night, you see.

There Are No Dogs… Finally

After a year in the studio, our band finally finished recording our first album. We’re pretty excited about it. Well, at least I am. Why am I speaking in group talk? So anyway, Tuesday evening we spent seven hours in the studio making the final finishing touches on seven of the songs. We got out of there around one in the morning. But we were done.

So this weekend we’re going to celebrate by drinking a few cold ones and listening to some kick ass music. Still trying to decide what we’re going to listen to.

Go check it out at copperwound.com. You can buy the album online, or wait ’til it goes to press at the end of this month.

The Great Dove Hunt of 2007

My Pop and I packed up and headed out early Friday morning, the last day of August, heading west. We followed my buddy Stout and his brother David out to the deer lease for opening day of dove season. Wait, that should be capitalized. Opening Day of Dove Season.

So we got out there Friday night and got everything unpacked and settled in at the lake house. We then sat out on the patio and tossed washers for about two hours while drinking beers like we were in a contest. The point of all this was to do as little as possible. To get away for a weekend out into the country – to do as little as possible… To disconnect. To unwind. It was so nice to be able to become one with nature. And the birds. The boids.

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Opening Night: The Bourne Ultimatum

We arrived at the theater about an hour before showtime, anticipating the line we’d wait in to get into our seats. The movie would start at 9:50, and we walked through the doors around 9:00. Alas, we weren’t early enough, and ended up with about forty people in front of us. We got pretty good seats, about mid-way up the climb, but over to one side. So not totally inline with where we wanted to be – but not bad at all. Forgettable as soon as the picture starts.

Matt & JuliaThe movie picks up right where the last one left off, but there’s the catch. The end of the second movie actually happens about halfway through Ultimatum. So if you rewatch Supremacy to prep yourself for the third, stop your player right after he walks out of the Russian girl’s apartment. The next scene, where he calls Pam Landy from New York and tells her to get some rest… That doesn’t really happen yet. So just cut it off the end of the second film. The third will then make more sense to you.

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The Amazing Squirrel Incident

Gah, what a weird night. I left my Pop’s house the other night just before dark, and as I was crossing the railroad tracks, I saw a car parked in the gravel by the road with two women standing outside of it. One was on a cell phone, and they looked distressed. I made the ‘ok’ motion with my hand and the one not attached to the phone shrugged and pointed down to the ditch. She didn’t wave me on, so I pulled in to check up on them.

I get out and say, “Can I help you ladies?” The other hung up and turned to me. “There’s a squirrel laying over there in the grass. I think he’s injured real bad.” Oh. I see. Good thing I pulled over for you. Sigh.

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Another Run-In With Aria

As most of you probably remember, I had somewhat of a “run-in” with a fairly well known lady a couple of years ago at a movie expo. It was a pretty rad experience for me, since I’ve considered myself somewhat of a fan of hers. Ever since that video where she used the baby oil she’s been pretty close to the top of my list.

Anyway, I think it’s worth mentioning that I ran into her again, though this time it wasn’t such a collision as just a “seeing her in public” episode. But wait – let me back up a little. I first ‘ran into her’ in March or April of 2005. Then I saw her again at an adult expo of some sort where a buddy and I went just to see her. We heard she’d be in town, blah blah blah, went and said hi and got a snap with her. Didn’t really have time to talk. But this was about three weeks after the first time I met her.

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Why I’m So Cynical

Well, I don’t really know why. But I can share with you a few examples of how I’m cynical.

A friend an I were talking about looking at the stars, and I made a joke about it not mattering if there are clouds or not, because the telescope sort of puts you out past the clouds. You’re looking at stuff much further away than the clouds, you see.

I know, it’s a rolleyes for me too. But you’d be surprised at how many people won’t laugh at that joke. But rather say, “Uh, what’s the joke, Spacey?”

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