Am I... Becoming Normal?

It suddenly hit me over the weekend.  I think I'm on my way to becoming normal.  Which is odd, because, well, I never used to be normal.  I thought I was normal, but everybody thought different.  Here are a few examples:

  • I'm not working on my business as much as I used to (and not nearly as much as I should be, come to think of it).
  • I'm watching football.  I'm going to tailgate parties.
  • I mow my lawn on a regular basis.
  • I've just about stopped drinking caffeine.  (dammit, I was good for a week and then Fred guilted me into having some)
  • I'm playing pool a lot now  (granted: I have a table in my basement now)

Not that these are bad things; they aren't.  But combined they make for a pretty scary realization...  I'm not the oddest one in the room anymore.  Probably not even close.

Damn.  At least I was unique before...

Extra Help with Moving

So the President is making a stop in Green Bay on Thursday.  He's giving a speech at a local firm and then going to a fundraiser.  The company he's giving a speech at is about a block from my new duplex.  I was planning on starting to move right about the same time.

I've been telling people he's really coming to Green Bay just to give me a hand.  Is that wrong?  I think he's bringing a bunch of guys with him to help out.

Oh yeah, I work with this guy.  Hey, wait, maybe Karl will volunteer to help too?

Moving in, moving up...

What the hell do I know about furniture?

I decided that even though I'm a bachelor now, the boys and I should step it up a bit.  Since the ex moved out, I haven't had much in the way of furniture for the living room.  Down to the bare essentials, really.  Couch?  Check.  TV?  Check.  Badass AV setup?  Check, although I never installed it at the apartment.

What more could a guy need?

Well, I decided that since I'm renting a nice duplex starting Thursday (yeah yeah, get off my ass, I'll buy a house as soon as I can afford it), I should upgrade my furniture.  Obviously the point here is that I'm trying to get women to actually _want_ to come into the house.

So I bought a full living room furniture set on Saturday.  It will be nice; it's the one thing I don't have to move, and it will basically take care of an entire room, give or take.  Now I own a couch, loveseat, and chair.

So, back to the first question?  I know that I have a lot of places to sit now.  Now I just need to start getting dates.  Hmm, in business parlance, that could be referred to as Return On Investment...

Miniskirts Sell

Knock knock.

The tiniest of sounds on the door to my apartment.  I didn't even hear it, but one of the boys did.  I didn't buzz anybody in, so I was a bit nervous.  I don't want to buy anything right now.

I opened the door to see a young woman selling magazines.  You know the kind, they're selling 'em to make money, or earn points, or some such thing.  Hmmm, that miniskirt isn't covering that much, but it's hot out today.

Unfortunately she was a bit cute.  And since it's been quite a while since that's happened, I listened for a bit.  That crop top definitely helped in making my decision.

She looked a little hot standing in the doorway.  She asked if she could come in while she showed me the magazine choices.  Sure! Aw hell, you want to *sit* at the table?  Stupid me...

Then the boys began acting up.  Just a little bit, just to take away a bit of my attention.  My your tummy looks nice.  You must work out?

The boys started showing off.  I remember a fleeting thought about what could happen if she decided she liked the boys... anybody who likes the boys is OK in my book.  Hey! It's not my fault I keep looking at you like that, you've got glitter all over your shirt.  It's SHINY!

She started telling me some of the exotic places she could go from this promotion and that she could take a friend.  Of course she made the requisite joke about me going along.  Hmm, Is my passport current?

She made the expected personal plea to help her out.  Wow does she ever have nice eyes.  Where's my #*!%ing checkbook?

After she concluded the sale she wrote some letters on the receipt and gave me 10 seconds to guess what they meant; if I guessed correctly, she'd stop back and wash/wax my car.  For the love of...  yeah, I know, it's BS, but she already looks good now.  Imagine a sponge, soap bucket, etc....  holy hell.

WTF?  How did that happen?  What the hell am I going to do with 20 copies of Home and Garden?!?

Management Creedo and Ear-splitting Muzak

Nobody reads this crap.

That's the mantra I'll take whenever I decide to post on here from now on.  I've done some demographic work: turns out most of the women who visit, like most women I know, are married.  That really pisses off a single guy like me.

Wait, what the hell am I talking about?  I forgot the first line of this post.  Nobody reads this crap. Argh.

Anyway, I should get some good text up here for those who DO read this site, either for their job (Hello, FBI Criminal Investigations), or because they absolutely have no choice (Hey there, Googlebot!  How's that site crawling thing working out for ya?). 

I got home from work on Monday the 3rd around 8pm after stopping for a few drinks and bugging Mike at the liquor store, where he works to support his crack habit.  I opened my car door only to hear a horrendous noise coming from the parking lot next door, which is home to the Oneida Family Fitness and Recreation center.

Anyway, they have they those crackly outdoor speakers to page people.  Either as a joke or accidentally, they left the elevator music pumping out through the outdoor speakers, plain as day.  I guess I could have called the cops or something, but I didn't care that much.  Besides, I needed some content for this site.  Never look a gift horse in the mouth, I suppose.

Long story short... it was blasting away until I got home from the Green Bay fireworks around 10pm.  On the Fourth.