Happy birthday, you Scotch-Irish Bastard!

Thursday was The Bastard's birthday, so yesterday I threw him a little get-together.  It was just us, a few friends, some cake, and a whole lot of balloons.

The decorators may have been 12.  And by decorators, I mean me & my friend JB.

I also found this kickass Betty Crocker bar mix that was brownies and chocolate chip cookies mixed together. So fuck yeah, I bought it!  I bought 2 boxes!  And this was the result:

OMNOMNOM

I might have made a joke about calling the fire marshal at this point!

The Bastard gets his motorcycle back... then goes to jail

So after sitting in the shop for almost 2 months, The Bastard finally got his bike back.  Of course, the first thing he did was go for a ride.  And when he goes for a ride, he usually ends up somewhere in Bumblefuck.

::snicker:: That sign says "Blowing Rock"

Now, I always worry about him getting a speeding ticket or get into an accident, but I never expected him to get arrested.

Apparently he was fueling up at a gas station where a Bumblefuck town cop was sitting out front.  Said cop decided to run The Bastard's plates.  Why?  No idea.  Apparently his plate came up with no valid license attached to it, probably because he thought he still had another month on it, but it had actually expired 2 weeks prior.  Oblivious to the activity in the police car he pulled out of the gas station, immediately after which the cop pulled out behind him and flipped on the lights.  The cop checked his license and registration, then almost immediately put him in handcuffs.  Instead of having the bike towed or asking if someone could pick it up, the cop left it on the side of the road!

He apparently tried to call me, but it was the one time I didn't have my phone on me (it had died and was charging).  When he got home, he was pissed off and flailing a bit.  I'd left him in jail!  To hear him tell it, you'd think he'd spent the day in a supermax facility with hardened criminals.

Don't drop the soap...

Here's what really happened.

At the station, he sat there for about a half hour before another cop apologized and said that with his clean record and the fact that he'd never been pulled over for this offense before, he shouldn't have been brought in.  They gave him a ticket for the expired license and told him he could GTFO.  That's when he called me, I didn't answer, and then he called one of his riding buddies.  So really, his afternoon looked more like this:

Seriously.  He looks badass in that jacket.

It actually turned out that it was a good thing that I didn't go get him - his buddy was able to ride the bike home, which I wouldn't have been able to do.  Eventually he calmed down and let me know what really happened.  So don't worry, he's not too traumatized from his ordeal!  (I know you were all worried)

Pardon me, madam, your geek is showing

So Dragon*Con is in full swing right now, and I am so fucking jealous of everyone there right now!  So I've decided that I'm going to start planning now for next year's Con.  I've been wanting to make a Mara Jade costume for awhile now and with the current state of our finances combined with my total lack of sewing skills, this could take a full year!

Fuck yeah, Mara Jade looking like Olivia Wilde!

I'm already starting to make my list of priorities for the Con:

• Complete a kick-ass Mara Jade costume (note to self: research colored contacts...)
• Convince the bastard to dress up with me - I'm thinking Talon Karrde.  So far, he's thinking "himself".
• Get Timothy Zahn to sign my old tattered copy of the Thrawn trilogy
• Get Wil Wheaton to autograph a photo of Wil Wheaton collating papers
• Drool over the geeky shit being sold at the vendor booths
• Take tons and tons of pictures while people-watching

But first, the costume...

Win: Weapon of Choice

I have just been informed that there are people in existence that have never seen the greatest music video of all time.  Because of this, I'm posting it now.  YOU'RE WELCOME.

OMG Look A These Fucking Hot Dogs

I was in Aldi today and was checking out the sale and limited-time stuff because some of it's pretty awesome.  Like what I found today:

On the right, normal sized hot dogs.  On the left, JUMBO-SIZED JUMBO JUMBO DOGS!!!!

Oh yes.  I bought them.

Copernicus may have been a lamp model

The most awesome lamp ever.  EVAR.  And yes, that is a Han Solo bookmark next to it!

So between insomnia, quitting smoking, chronic pain, and general stress, my head's been in a weird place lately.  Last night I took a look at my bedside lamp.  Like, really looked at it.  Now, I got this lamp as a Christmas present, I think in 2003, from my mom with whom I have this recurring joke about monkeys.  For some reason, I have accumulated lots of monkey-themed paraphernalia, and never realized it until about 9 years ago when one of my fellow cast members pointed out that I showed up to many of my Pirates of Penzance rehearsals in monkey shirts and I earned the moniker "Monkeymonkeymonkey".  I told Mom this, since she was the one who bought most of the shirts, and she thought this was hilarious since she hadn't noticed it, either.  IIRC, there was eye-rolling from The Bastard over this.

Anyway, every now and then, my mom will give me a monkey-themed gift or card or whatever, the most epic of these being my prized monkey lamp.  It has been a point of contention between me and The Bastard, such as when we moved into this apartment:

Me: Hey!  I just unpacked the monkey lamp!
Dan: Oh.  Yay.
Me: Where do you think we should put it? Do you think the living room is too big a space for it?  It's not a very big lamp.
Dan: I think the closet could use some more light.
Me: What?!  The monkey lamp needs to be seen!  The monkey lamp is awesome!
Dan: The monkey lamp is creepy.
Me: Whatever! I'm putting it by the bed!

So that's how the monkey lamp ended up on my nightstand.  Anyway, I couldn't sleep so somehow between chapters of "Sphere" and pondering turning off the light again, I took a good look at the lamp.

Holy shit!  He looks like Copernicus!  For those of you who do not know of Copernicus, he's a stuffed monkey that The Bloggess recently purchased from a thrift store.  He likes to give hugs and may be missing part of his face.  Now I'm thinking that he also may have modeled for lamps when he was younger, which means Jenny seriously got a deal on him.

Also, since I'm sharing my decor with everyone, this is my zebra lamp that one of my friends gave me for my 21st birthday.  I loved it because I adore tacky zebra print, and because it goes so well with my monkey lamp.

Consequently, The Bastard has forbidden me from shopping with The Bloggess, even though I've never met her and probably won't unless I begin stalking her or somehow convince Nathan Fillion to take a picture with twine.  I am warming The Bastard up to the idea of getting me a "Knock-knock, motherfucker" t-shirt for Christmas, though.

Why I don't take The Bastard grocery shopping

Recently, I may have temporarily lost my mind.  It all started with a little app called Our Groceries.  It's a great app - you can set up a list, then sync it with your phone and the phones of anyone else you want to be able to access your list.  I instantly fell in love with it because I'm always trying to get The Bastard to tell me what he wanted me to pick up from the grocery store.  Usually his answer was "food".  Bastard.  I figured that with this app, he could just add whatever he wanted to the list whenever he thought of it.

Of course, this would require him actually bothering to download the app, even though I sent the link to him twice.  One day, completely fed up with his lack of participation in the grocery list, I dragged him shopping.

Now, here's how my shopping usually goes, and it usually takes all of 20 minutes to get in and out:

I go in, I get what I need, I get out.  I don't know what I was expecting with The Bastard, but it went more like this:

Forty-five minutes. Forty-five minutes.  In a freakin' Aldi!  That store has, like, 4 aisles!

If he was trying to make a point then he wins, because never again!