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Alright, time to turn on the randomizer...

* First, there's a pick-up truck in our parking garage - one of many as you might guess, we have people driving everything from trucks with acetylene torches for welding to ones where the guy advertises his cattle ranch. Seriously, he'll sell you fresh beef from his ranch. Still, this one truck is out there and the entire bed of the truck is filled with empty oil bottles. On the back window there's a sticker that says "Save Ocean Wildlife".

Luckily for the seals the oil slick is under this guys truck, and not out at sea.

* Next, apparently Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia defended the US use of torture by giving his support to the efforts of fictional character Jack Bauer. He stated, "Jack Bauer saved Los Angeles. ... He saved hundreds of thousands of lives," Judge Scalia said. Then, recalling Season 2, where the agent's rough interrogation tactics saved California from a terrorist nuke, the Supreme Court judge etched a line in the sand.

Yes, Jack's techniques work because the writers wrote that it would work. That's kind of like endorsing vigilantism because Batman's effective.

Really, does anyone in Washington know what reality is anymore?

* Here's an odd, morning addled conversation Chris and I had, as much as I can recall it.

I'm at the computer and a noticeably hungry Chris is ready to go get breakfast. I turn and ask him where he's going, and he states he has to get something to eat before he comes over and eats my hand off. I said, "So, eat my hand off, huh?" He replies, "Yeah, then what are you going to do?" "I don't know, wait for the bleeding to stop then stump you?"

Stumping - verb - A sexual act of penetration involving an amputated limb.

Chris, clearly put off by the image starts to walk down the stairs. I needed to pile on. "So, would stumping be something like "Phantom Fisting?"

Chris was done with me for a while.
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°Yesterday we ate at Applebee's. Here's a thought...Why the hell do we ever go to Applebee's? The food's not very good, the waitress reminded me of Joan Cusack playing dumb - and perhaps just out of the halo - and the average age in the place was just a few years shy of the 4:30 dinner time at Luby's Cafeteria.

°Chili's on the other hand has pissed me off as they got rid of my favorite burger. Actually the burger has been off the menu for about 15 years, but still, they could make it for you up until this month. Chili's got rid of their chili. The strangest thing. now you can still get chili at Chili's, but it's a different chili, with beans - and that doesn't set well with me. It is also kind of weak - they brought out a little for us to try - and wouldn't stay in a burger very well. So there you go, goodbye Chili's Trip burger - the burger that had been there since day one, but now you can't even get an Oldtimer with chili. It too is off the menu. It's a sad day, indeed.

°Today was President's Day, so I had the day off. I let the dog chase the Roomba around the house and did my taxes, but I also went out to a park and studied on my NASD Series 7 test. I take the exam in May, but the brokerage exam is pretty long, extensive, and detailed, so I probably should have started a long time ago. It was a great day to be outside. It was sunny and in the 60's here. I sat out in the park for a couple of hours reading about Bonds and calls and puts and yields. I also watched several ducks swim around a pond, and that seemed much more interesting than being able to tell how a bonds price raises or lowers given the current interest rates. I've taken the Series 6 before, so I have some knowledge of what I'm in for, but the 7 is a six hour test vs. a three hour one. There's also lots that I've forgotten.

°Seeing posts from Dave ([livejournal.com profile] meatybear) talking about how he forgot his watch today, and from Jeb ([livejournal.com profile] arthole) talking about the 80's era Swatch watches he had for his costume as he DJ'ed the 80's party at IBR made me think about this story I saw the other day that I saw on Yahoo showing that watches have declined in popularity since everyone's been carrying cell phones and other gadgets that display the time.

Personally, I wear a watch every day, I don't always wear it around the house, but it's certainly a part of me when I go out. Maybe I'm just old, but I tend to rely on my watch for the time more than my cell phone, or iPod or even my computer monitor at work. When I go down to the cafeteria for my thirty minute lunch, it's my watch - a square-faced Fossil I bought at the San Marcos Outlet coming back from the wonderful ACL/Hurricane Rita escape back in 2005 - that tells me that it's been 45 minutes and I need to get back to my desk.

I've owned dozens of watches, including a digital watch with red numbers on a black face back in 1980 to Snoopy, Mickey Mouse and Superman watches, and several Swatches, including my favorite, the clear one that you could see all the gears turn. I had a Pac-Man watch and the ever geeky calculator watch. Most of them have been analog (hands) and many of them from Fossil. i don't think I've ever spent more than $100 for one. My dad has had a Rolex that he's had since before I was born. Perhaps if I invested a bit more cash I could do the same, but like my glasses, I like to change it up every few years.

The strange thing is that this year I didn't "fall back" when we went back to Standard Time this past fall. My watch has been an hour ahead for months - and when someone asks me the time, I have to do the little mental calculation to tell them it's 3:30, not 4:30. I'm not sure why I'm being stubborn about this, but with Daylight Saving Time starting earlier this year, that will be remedied next month. I guess I'll hold out.

Still, like Dave, suddenly finding that you've walked out of the house without your watch makes you feel naked, and then you're constantly in need to know what the time is. It's an insecurity as you can't rely on yourself to know. For some reason the digital clock on your cell won't do. It's a strange and irrational feeling, but we are governed by the construct of time. Our watches are just a way that we try to keep it all under control.
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Just one of those things that many people will never understand...

The lovely feeling of your back hair gently blowing in the breeze.
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As I've mentioned in a previous post, I have some time off coming up in late august. my problem is, I'm not sure what to do with it. Of course my first idea is to consult with Chris on his availability, since he has more time off available, and i thought, more flexibility. This however, is not entirely the case as Chris has an upcoming office move this month, and if everything works out, may get scheduled for some boot camp training for a couple of weeks soon afterward.

So, here's my first dilemma, should I just go and prepare a vacation on my own? It would be nice to go somewhere with him, but for one thing, we have very different ideas about what a vacation is, and for two, perhaps after the home invasion I staged 5 months ago, he'd like the house to himself for a few days.

I have a full week. I know that doesn't sound like anything special, but it was one of the last few weeks available to sign up for. the awful system that we have at the new job is pretty much first come, first serve, and because you have to put your requests in so early, many people just start grabbing Mondays and Fridays all over the calendar, locking them up. Still, I got the week of August 21-25 and the Saturdays and Sundays surrounding it, of course.

So what do you do with a week? Last year Chris and I explored the Bay Area and some of Northern California, and for that, we had ten days. I like to pack a lot into those days, seeing new places and exploring. Chris likes to relax. Luckily a stay at Chris' parents place allowed us to slow down a bit, but trust me, we saw a ton of stuff in San Francisco, and I still have a very big list of things i want to go back and see. It wasn't enough time.

Sure, I could go back, but why do it without Chris? Of course Chris would like to do a cruise. I'll make this statement by stating that I've never been on a cruise, but truly, I can think of nothing more boring than being trapped on a ship all the time, with a couple of outings to see a beach (yawn) or shop island stores that are made for tourists (also yawn). The only cruise I've ever though might be interesting is the Alaska tours. If I'm going it alone, then I'm certainly not doing a cruise.

My passport has expired (stupid, I know), so I'm pretty much going to be stateside this year.

So here's my dream vacation that's totally unrealistic. My desired destination this year is Boston, but i also want to see my sister in Baltimore, so my idea - why not do both? I'd really like to fly to Boston, spend four or five days there, then take the train down to Baltimore and stay with my sister for a couple of days before coming back to Dallas.

Boston's a decent city for public transportation, so I don't think I'd need to rent a car, and i can get a decent deal on hotel rooms through the company. Baltimore's easy with my sister, and being there on the weekend means we can go out and do something on Saturday before i have to jet back.

I don't know if I'd have time for New York City or not. I think I'll have to just pass that by.

Of course any trip to a new place usually means going to a ball game, but since the Red Sox are only in town on Sunday and Monday (both day games), and it's against the Yankees, that may be an impossibility. Would there be a ticket available? Will I fit into those tiny seats at Fenway? Would anyone else want to go?

So there's the idea. Now to see if I can even to afford this, as airfare is going up everyday. Since I wouldn't be flying round trip, I'd likely need to get a travel agent involved to make the whole thing work.

One of my other thoughts is to just go to Baltimore and take the shorter jaunt up to Philadelphia and do some exploring there. I still haven't seen much of the Atlantic coast, or new England, so it's all new to me. If Chris were going, I'd probably town down my plans considerably, giving him more time to relax, but I just don't know what it's going to be just yet.

Damn, I'm already getting stressed about a trip I haven't even started scheduling. I'm just crazy, I know, but my sense of wanderlust, and desire to see Boston and the friends and acquaintances there has my rather psyched.

I just need answers, and maybe some advice, soon.
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eggwards: (Labeled Bear)
So, a couple of weeks ago I mentioned that we sometimes start saying "Big Boy" and "Fluffy" when people get those voice recognition call menus that I hate so much, mocking the Citibank ad.

Well, I think we've found the correct password that seems to get you past most of those prompts and directly to a person. It came from a conversation about Tom Cruise.

The Word? Xenu. So far it has a pretty good track record with most of the financial companies with voice commands.

Who knew they were all aligned against the true way?
eggwards: (Labeled Bear)
Chris told me a little detail tonight that made me blush a little bit. don't worry, the set up takes forever, because I'm telling this tale. Of course, the story will be even more embarrassing, and will probably give people some bad images of me, but heck, I'm game.

As we've gone on a few years, I find myself less and less able to conjure up sufficient imagery in my head to fantasize about. I'm blaming it on the increasingly easy to get material available to get off to. I, as many gay boys did, had to think of someone when masturbating, or we looked at the underwear section of the Sears catalog. Later I was able to get, and hide some Muscle and Fitness magazines, which gave me my interest in the musclebound set. In college I found Advocate Men, Colt Studio, and eventually Bear Magazine. These served me well, in my young, closeted life.

Then finally, we got the internet, and I no longer ever had to imagine up some image of a hot guy - pictures, many of them, were available night and day. there were many different types, and multiple sites as well. Everything was right at your fingertips. It's the continuing dumbing down of America, I suppose, but I'm not complaining.

So this brings me to the fact that I like laptop computers, because you can drag them to the bed. Yep, Where I once would be jostling a magazine with one hand, I now balance a laptop. One day I need to find a more hands-free operating device, as it ruins rhythm while you're scrolling or trying to change pictures.

Now since I've moved in with Chris, on a few occasions I've used his laptop for this purpose. This is mainly because my laptop is old, it doesn't keep a charge, and Chris' laptop has the bigger screen. Still, for those looking for a laptop for this use, wireless internet is very much your friend.

So I guess I have a habit of just closing the laptop when it's usefulness is over, without actually closing the websites I was visiting. Really, I guess I sort of forget about it, and with Chris, it's not like I'd be trying to hide the sites I was going to, as if my parents were around.

Well, normally that laptop stays in the den, just off the bedroom, but the other day, I noticed it was gone. Chris told me that he took it to work, and I thought nothing of it at the time. Tonight Chris tells me about opening it up at work and having to quickly close it because I had forgotten to clear the screen of the hot guys I was looking at the last time I opened it.

Consider me embarrassed. Not necessarily surprised, just embarrassed as I can imagine Chris seeing some big, likely undressed musclebear staring at him when he opened the laptop's lid. He told me that he quickly closed the lid and had to take it off to another area to close the browser windows.

He asked me why I had four or five windows open, with different content on each. I simply replied, "I was Multi-Tasking".
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I’ve got questions to answer, and even a couple of statements to make, so there’s plenty to write about today. It will be chopped up into different posts, because, for one thing, I’m at work at this moment.

Before questions, I have to tell this tale. Last night Chris and I were out at a small Italian restaurant we were visiting as we were trying to get out of the rut of constantly going to Chili’s, Tin Star, BW3 and Chipotle all the time. The food was good, Chris had some vegetable pizza with spinach and artichokes and more, which I stayed safely away from with my bowl of pasta.

On one projection television they were showing the food network, but over the bar, there was a television with Fox News on it, close captioned. As many of you know, Fox News likes to cover any missing white girl story it can find, especially when there’s news that makes Tom Delay, or Dick Cheney, or George Bush look bad that’s being covered by other channels. The “human interest” of an abducted or disappeared 16-25 year old woman with decent photos from the last spring break is definitely newsworthy.

So, there it was, the needed story about some girl who was missing from her spring break trip, with the crying parents and all. It is sad, but not national news. Then they turned to another missing persons story, one about a male college student who apparently was drunk, and his dorm mates threw him down a trash chute, and now he’s missing. Apparently he got dropped into a trash truck, and now officials are looking for him in landfills in the area. It’s a terribly odd story.

Of course, not wanting to say anything bad about the likely dead, I still couldn’t help thinking about a quote from the movie, Better Off Dead, so I turned to Chris and said, “Now that's a real shame when folks be throwin' away a perfectly good white boy like that.”

Now onto the first question I want to answer. John ([livejournal.com profile] pteroglyph) asks me this about the post I used to solicit questions:

Why would one agree to answer all in a public venue and be open and honest and then, well, not?

Well, the first thing is, I said “ask me anything”, not that I will answer any question. Semantically, it’s different. I know that it’s a bit of a cop-out answer, but truly, it’s what I meant.

Now, to the deeper issue, why would I solicit questions and not want to answer? Really, there isn’t much of a reason to not answer, but I do have a couple of categories that I will deflect, or answer obscurely. First, I don’t want to answer a question that would end up having to try to think what someone else’s thoughts might be. I’ve run into a couple of entries I’ve written where I tried to guess what someone’s opinions of me, or a situation we were in, and I’ve gotten it wrong, and been called on the floor about it. I’d rather deal with questions about me, and not about others – unless it’s “is so-and-so hot?”, or something.

Second, I don’t want to answer a question that might put someone else in a compromised position, or reveal something that they may not want revealed. For example, Yes, I might have done something in a moving motor vehicle during TBRU, and I’ll own up to that, but the others may not want that revealed, so my truthiness factor is not telling all, or observing the lie of omission.

So, yes, you can ask me about anything. I will answer as honestly as I can, without hurting others. That’s the intention, and that’s what I’m sticking to.

If anyone wants to ask me a question, I’ll continue answering over the weekend.
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Since the comic strip "Garfield" has offended me for the last 15 years or so with it's lame rehashed jokes and little attempt to actually do more than be a place to rant about mondays, the lack of Lasagna in the house, and the attention span of dogs, I would like to put a marker out on the decadent western civilization that has created this monster that generates millions of wasted dollars every year.

I say it's time to burn down some Starbucks, just to make a point.



This travesty against mankind must be stopped through senseless violence. There is no other way!
eggwards: (A little crazy in the eyes)
Ev'nin', ma'am.

Would you mind sayin' that again?

I said, 'Ev'nin', ma'am.

Ev'nin', ma'am'!
Mister, you've got a way of sayin'
Ev'nin', ma'am
That puts me in a friendly state of mind.

Would you mind sayin' that again
I mean 'friendly state'.

Friendly state.

Sister you've got a way of saying
'Friendly state
'That gives me the impression
You're my kind.

Would you mind sayin' 'crazy crystal'?

'Crazy crystal!'
Would you mind saying 'Nieman Marcus'.

'Nieman Marcus!'

Wait a minute!
Wait a minute!

You're from Big D
I can guess
By the way you draw!
And the way you dress
You're from Big D
My, oh Yes
I mean Big D little a, double l-a-s
And that spell Dallas
My darlin', darlin' Dallas

Don't it give you pleasure to confess
That you're from Big D
My, oh Yes
I mean Big D, little a double l-a
Big D, little a double l-a
Big D, little a double l-a-s
And that spell Dallas
Where ev'ry home's a palace
Cause the settlers settle for no less

Hooray for Big D
My, oh Yes
I mean Big D, little a double l-a
Big D, little a double l-a
Big D, little a double l-a-s

You're from Big D
I can guess
By the way you draw!
And the way you dress

You're from Big D
My, oh Yes
I mean Big D little a, double l-a-s
And that spells Dallas
Just dig a toe in Dallas
And there's oil all over your address

Back home in Big D
My, oh Yes
I mean Big D, little a double l-a
Big D, little a double l-a
Big D, little a double l-a-s

And that spells Dallas
I mean it with no malice
But the rest of Texas looks a mess(!)

When you're from Big D
My, oh Yes
I mean Big D, little a double l-a
Big D, little a double l-a
Big D, little a double l-a-s

Big D, Big D
Talkin' 'bout big D, big D

Oil! Oil! Oil! Cattle! Cattle! Cattle!
My, oh Dallas, Dallas, Dallas, Dallas!
Big D! Little A double L-A-S!

And that spells Dallas
My darlin', darlin' Dallas
Don't it give you pleasure to confess
That you're from big D
My, oh yes
I mean
Big D
Little A, Double L-A
Big D
Little A, double-A
Big D, little A, double L-A-S!
eggwards: (Labeled Bear)


Possible Thanksgiving Dinner substitute?

(Hot Pocket Dissection)
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I haven't made you all suffer with a meme lately.

Two Names You Go By
1. Mike
2. Egg

Two Parts of Your Heritage
1. English
2. The rest of the British Isles

Two Things That Scare You
1. Being Unemployed
2. Being Alone

Two of Your Everyday Essentials
1. Sausage Biscuits
2. Blogs

Two Things You Are Wearing Right Now
1. Big Dogs Boxers
2. Glasses

Two of Your Favorite Bands or Musical Artists (at the moment)
1. Bloc Party
2. Low Millions

Two Things You Want in a Relationship (other than real love)
1. Companionship
2. Someone who makes me laugh

Two Truths
1. I'm a media junkie...I need to be connected to TV, radio, internet, or something all the time.
2.

Two Physical Things that Appeal to You
1. Facial Hair
2. Body Fur

Two Places You Want to go on Vacation
1. Boston
2. Australia

Two Things You Want to Do Before You Die
1. Zack Galifinakis
2. Move in with Chris, but I hope that's a short term goal.

Two Ways that you are Stereotypically a Guy
1. I can't watch Lifetime Television
2. I love Baseball, which actually makes me a minority among sports fans

Two Things You Normally Wouldn't Admit
1. I cry at movies
2. I want sex all the time.

Two Things You Are Thinking About Now
1. Sex
2. Shouldn't I be folding Laundry?

Two Stores You Shop At
1. Target
2. Randall's

Two People I would like to see take this quiz
Please, Meme's shouldn't be forced on people.

Two People I haven't Talked to in a while
1. John Bland
2. John Adams
eggwards: (Labeled Bear)
First, there's several people with Birthdays today...[livejournal.com profile] bearpawly, [livejournal.com profile] cpj, people I don't know and have never met. Of those people mentioned...I've seen one of them naked. I'll let you guess.
----------------------------------------------------------------------


So tonight I decided to try to do my civic duty, but I've been oppressed by the man!

Due to some interesting twists of fate, my voting precinct is far, far away. It's in another county. There was something about never changing my permanent address or something. The last day of early voting was today, since this county is too cheap to have a weekend date for this. It's something that you might say I could have done earlier, but this was the first day that they were open till 7. Everything else was during working hours.

So tonight I left work and hopped in the car to drive the forty miles to my parents town, my old home, to go cast my ballot. I left at 5:15. Now it's rush hour, and it's a Friday, so that's already two strikes. Still, I stayed off the freeways around my office, and got on the tollway to make it up north.

As i was driving, I heard about it...up in the great white north there was a 18 wheeler that had flipped over in the middle of a construction zone right after the San Jacinto River, so this had closed down the entire freeway. I'm telling you, this wasn't a coincidence, this was a definite attack on my ability to vote.

They (and I'm not sure who they are, but they could be all sorts of groups, anyone from the Concerned Women of America, The Klu Klux Klan, or maybe even Laura Bush), they are out there and they are doing anything they can to keep this gay man down, dang it. I know that they intentionally flipped that truck...and hey, does anyone know where Dick Cheney is?

The toll road drops out before you get to the Woodlands, a Houston suburb that comes ten miles before Conroe, and the freeway there was backed up solid. With forty minutes to go, I was guessing that I wouldn't make it to my voting place, but I thought that I might be able to make it to the Woodlands satellite branch. I didn't think I could vote there, but I might be able to talk them into it giving the circumstances.

Trying to get to the branch office took most of the time I had left, and I found there was some event going on at the nearby Woodlands Pavilion. There was some Country Values event going on with Gretchen Wilson and Big and Rich, so they closed down the branch early, instead of being open until 7. Again, the man was keeping me from making my voice heard.

Luckily the very cute waiter (his nametag said he was Beau, ask for him by name) at Culver's was able to console me slightly as his eyes sparkled when he served me my soothing cheese curds. Still, he couldn't wipe away my concern for our state.

I'm telling you, "they" are trying to stop me, and I'm sure many, many others like me from being able to stop Texas Proposition 2. My vote is a dangerous weapon, and could stop from making their dreams come true. Still, I will be heard, I will just have to run out of work early on Tuesday and make sure I can make the drive before the doors close and the ballot box is locked.

If there's another accident or early closing, I'm going to be looking for Karl Rove.
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The other night I was out late and I needed dinner, so I went to good old Whataburger close to my apartment. Generally this is an out of the way location and is often empty, even when other locations would be full. Maybe this is because it is next to a 24 Hour Fitness location.

I pulled in and saw that the parking lot was fuller than normal, and there seemed to be several teens outside the location. After walking in, I noticed that one whole side was taken up by several more. After I ordered and sat down, and even larger group strolled in. So now the group was around 30 and of course, not all of them were eating.

There were a couple of girls with cheerleading outfits on, they had letters on that spelled SBS, or Second Baptist School. The large christian campus is nearby, and has a school. I had forgotten that they have a football team that plays other religious schools in the area, and apparently the game had let out, and here were some of the students, of course without their parents.

Here I was eating my burger and reading My Queer Life by Michael Thomas Ford. I'm not sure if this was really the best situation, but I had this feeling...and I get it often when I'm in a room of people from a christian organization...that I just want to jump up and waive a rainbow flag. I'm not sure why this is. I'm wondering if this may partially be from coming out so late, or just a frustration with fundamentalist society.

I watched the spoiled brats for a bit. I say that without irony, these are definitely privileged kids who don't know how good that they have it. It's just like those kids on that awful show on MTV, My Super Sweet Sixteen. Kids, you're parents are spending a lot of money to keep you sequestered from a lot of the world's ills, too bad that for most of you it will take years if you ever come to your senses.

Still, as I thought about it, There really wasn't a reason to jump out and be Mr. Hairy Fag to these people, heck, they may be more open to it than their parents, or their grandparents, but I'll never know, because I'll never know these kids. who knows if they are really fundamentalists like their school wants them to be, or not.

I'd probably just color myself worse if I did have a rainbow flag hidden somewhere on my person, being the big, in-your-face faggot. Sometimes being the normal out guy, like I am at work is the better way to change perception. You never know, some kid in that Whataburger might have noticed the book I was reading and figured it out, or not, but still, if any of them were to know, hopefully I put on a decent face...if you can call a guy who's alone at a Whataburger at 11pm a great role-model.

Of course it did cross my mind that really, doing or saying anything could get me in far more trouble than I could handle, too. I recently heard that the men who beat up and left for dead Houston citizen Paul Broussard back in the early 90's were up for parole this week. Those men were in high school in the Woodlands when they found their target, looking for a gay man to beat up one night. Again, sometimes you have to think.

So no, there was no big show. I'd have no idea what it would have been if I actually would ever do something like that, but I guess we always have to think about when and where we come out, whether to be proud of ourselves, or to prove to the world what being homosexual is all about. I know that sometimes I want a parade to happen, and it doesn't come, but that's just because I don't want to feel alone, like I did in that restaurant. Perhaps another reason we come out is just to find our place in the world.

As a light addendum to this, one little remarkable thing happened tonight that kind of set my National Coming Out Day for me. I went over to Jerry's ([livejournal.com profile] goofycubb) to see tonight's Amazing Race episode and he had a guest staying over from New Braunsfels. As we got to talking, Tim was telling me that he used to live in Houston and grew up in the Woodlands. I mentioned that I had grown up in Conroe.

Suddenly there was something there...a recognition. he asked me when I graduated high school and I told him, one year before he entered, but the connection really rolled in when we talked about where we lived, a block away from each other! I said, "What's your last name?" "Bratcher," he said. Suddenly I was bowled over. Tim Bratcher was not only here, but a bear.

If I had only known this several years ago. I'm telling you, he's cute now, but it would have helped to have known him several years ago. Apparently he was much more able to come out in school and part of it is that he went to the new school, and not redneck Conroe High.

So we ended up talking for a while, especially how my family's ownership of a computer back in the early 80's helped him pick the career he has today. It's interesting the lives you touch, and you barely know it.
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Well, apparently I've been nominated for that "8 Hunks of Hanukkah" contest (No Judaism required!). While I don't believe I'll win, or even get close to the Big 8 finalists (because I don't want to spend the whole day voting for myself), it would be very, very appreciative of your vote and ego-stroke.

To encourage your vote, I'll re-run a favorite picture behind this cut )

____________________________________________________

Otherwise, today I ended up back in the dentist's chair again today. It was a regular cleaning, but my dentist likes those cleanings to happen often. He's scheduled me for every four months when most dentists wait six.

so cleaning starts and is underway. the dental assistant, the one I always get, worked on my teeth, scraping and poking and putting on junk. When she's through with that, she polishes my teeth with that swirling little thing and the gritty, funky tasting stuff. As the swirling little thing came around to the place where my teeth are reversed, suddenly I got a strong tickling sensation that was driving me crazy.

Now, just to explain, my orthodontist many years ago did something strange when I used to have braces. As he was working to straighten my teeth, the last of my permanent teeth were coming in, and my bicuspid on the top right side of my mouth was coming in on top of my canine tooth. In his effort to fix it, he placed the braces in a way that moved the bicuspid forward in my mouth, so my canine tooth is actually next in line, in front of my molars. It gives me a little valley in my row of teeth on the inside, one apparently that can be tickled.

This was an interesting revelation as I squirmed in the dentist's chair. The dental assistant at first thought I was in pain, but after I explained what had happened, she said that other people have had the same reaction.

The problem was, when I get ticklish, everything moves. I tense up and curl up. I get rather embarrassed by being ticklish, and unfortunately for me it's not hard to get me going. A part of it goes back to childhood, where my Dad would pretty much tackle me and hold me down, tickling until I couldn't breathe. While it sounded like I was having fun, in a way it was a little bit of torture, when you can't control it.

Of course a few of my friends now would think that's fantastic, as tickle torture is a part of their play. Me, not so much. I think that may be a part of why I can be a little shy about people touching me, and I may have a little larger personal space area that I defend at times. It makes me a little skittish at times.

Of course, you'd think this would also make me very sensitive, sensitive body parts and such, but it's not the case. i think mentally to try to prevent being tickled, I turn off a few things. It's odd how it works.

Of course, Chris ([livejournal.com profile] f__k) quickly found my weakness and likes to get me here and there, causing me to clench up and laugh hysterically. Unfortunately it doesn't seem to work in reverse, as I haven't found his ticklish points - if he has them. Then again as often the tickle-ee, I never really learned the art of the tickle.

Of course I'm a bit scared that I've made this public, so if any kind soul would send me a shield to push off potential ticklers, I'd be most grateful.
eggwards: (Labeled Bear)
On Wenesday as I was playing golf I looked like this:





What I wanted to look like was:



I have a little bit of work to do to look like Kevin Stadler. (Thanks to [livejournal.com profile] bearpawly for the inspiration).

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