RENAMED: Roger is bored. Do something!

[LMNO]

blarg.

Spent the weekend going though our closet, which was starting to have a strong family resemblance to Fibber McGee (look it up, kids).  Decided to take a critical eye to what we've kept around, due to laziness, nostalgia, or that relentless optimism that we really are gonna lose that last ten pounds, or that someday I really will have a size 32 waist again.

At the end of it all, we had three contractor bags filled with stuff to give to Goodwill.  It felt good to get rid of some of it, but thinking about it now, damn.  I am one American Consumerist Bitch.  No matter how I justify it (I need shirts for work, I like looking good, it's not as bad as it could be, etc), I went out and bought a lot of shit. 

When it's all in your face like that, it kind of makes me want to grab some sackcloth and a rope, and get all Franciscan.  There wasn't even any "as seen on TV" bullshit in the pile.  It was simply me saying, "Even though I already have more than a week's worth of clothes that are in good condition I want that thing there."

Those Spiders are sneaky little shits.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

blarg.

Spent the weekend going though our closet, which was starting to have a strong family resemblance to Fibber McGee (look it up, kids).  Decided to take a critical eye to what we've kept around, due to laziness, nostalgia, or that relentless optimism that we really are gonna lose that last ten pounds, or that someday I really will have a size 32 waist again.

At the end of it all, we had three contractor bags filled with stuff to give to Goodwill.  It felt good to get rid of some of it, but thinking about it now, damn.  I am one American Consumerist Bitch.  No matter how I justify it (I need shirts for work, I like looking good, it's not as bad as it could be, etc), I went out and bought a lot of shit. 

When it's all in your face like that, it kind of makes me want to grab some sackcloth and a rope, and get all Franciscan.  There wasn't even any "as seen on TV" bullshit in the pile.  It was simply me saying, "Even though I already have more than a week's worth of clothes that are in good condition I want that thing there."

Those Spiders are sneaky little shits.

On the other hand, if you stop buying stuff, the economy collapses.

If you DON'T keep buying stuff, we continue the unsustainable mishegoss.

WARNING:  BIZARRE ECONOMIC METAPHOR AHEAD.

Sometimes The Spider buys you skis, and he shoves you down a slope of ice.  You're okay...until you lose your nerve.  Then BAM!  You pull a Sonny Bono into a tree at 80 MPH, and you wake up under a bridge with a week's worth of clothing in shopping cart.  The fast lane is full of wreckage, Jim, and that bothers some people a great deal.  But not you and I, because we have nerves of steel and balls of pure tungsten, and the slope is never, ever steep enough.

[Don Coyote]

blarg.

I spent my weekend regretting joining the reserves, how was yours?

[The Good Reverend Roger]

blarg.

I spent my weekend regretting joining the reserves, how was yours?

I slept through most of it.  I have been a bad boy for several weeks now, and it all caught up to me at once.

[Elder Iptuous]

unless one is putting themselves in debt buying things that aren't necessary, i don't see why one should feel guilt about 'consumerism'.  (an epithet for an eternal and hardwired desire that is unjustified when applied to the individual imo)

[LMNO]

blarg.

I spent my weekend regretting joining the reserves, how was yours?

I slept through most of it.  I have been a bad boy for several weeks now, and it all caught up to me at once.

I'd like to hear more of what you remember, if you care to share with the class.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

blarg.

I spent my weekend regretting joining the reserves, how was yours?

I slept through most of it.  I have been a bad boy for several weeks now, and it all caught up to me at once.

I'd like to hear more of what you remember, if you care to share with the class.

I suppose.  Most of it was driving around the outback all fucked up.  This resulted in the death of the van, as I sucked enough dust into the engine to kill cylinders 2&3 out of 4.  There was some downtown stuff that was kind of neat, and knuckles got hurt - the one thing that WASN'T my fault, and I somehow pissed off a whole bunch of Tohono Odham.

It needs time for the telling, though, so I'll write it in the evenings, probably starting sometime tomorrow (tonight I have to arrange the wrecker for the van).

[Luna]

Had a pretty damn awesome weekend, myself.  Pathfinder game, dinner out at a place I don't usually get to hit, got a weaving project that's been taking forever finished, off the loom, and delivered, and got to spend time helping in a buddy's workshop making awesome stuff.

Other than the fact that I haven't caught more then 4 hours of sleep a night for a week or more making me loopy enough that my brain is starting to fuck with me, I'm doing okay.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

My old army buddy Willison spontaneously mailed me a pair of jeans in the improbable and hard-to-locate Roger size, plus some blank CDs.  Mrs TGRR asked, "He sent you WHAT?"  Hey, don't look gift pants in the mouth. Well, something like that.  Its that Canadia blood, I tell you.  Everything's all out of proportion, but that's the luck of the genetic draw.  Blank CDs I can fill with oddities and send off to "friends" from a bogus address, under an assumed name.  Imagine their surprise!  To each dog his bone.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

I look forward to  your telling of your badness.

My weekend, and in fact my last few weeks, was a blur of doing things that seem hopelessly like they must not be the right things, but somehow I think everything pretty much turns out OK in the end.

I have this ache I can't get away from, though.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

I look forward to  your telling of your badness.

My weekend, and in fact my last few weeks, was a blur of doing things that seem hopelessly like they must not be the right things, but somehow I think everything pretty much turns out OK in the end.

I have this ache I can't get away from, though.

I was just needing oxygen.  We don't have enough, and sometimes it makes me crazy.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

I look forward to  your telling of your badness.

My weekend, and in fact my last few weeks, was a blur of doing things that seem hopelessly like they must not be the right things, but somehow I think everything pretty much turns out OK in the end.

I have this ache I can't get away from, though.

I was just needing oxygen.  We don't have enough, and sometimes it makes me crazy.

It sounds a little like that restless feeling I get sometimes when I want to get in my car and drive to the end of the world. Sometimes I think that maybe I can outrun the ache if I just go far enough and fast enough.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

I look forward to  your telling of your badness.

My weekend, and in fact my last few weeks, was a blur of doing things that seem hopelessly like they must not be the right things, but somehow I think everything pretty much turns out OK in the end.

I have this ache I can't get away from, though.

I was just needing oxygen.  We don't have enough, and sometimes it makes me crazy.

It sounds a little like that restless feeling I get sometimes when I want to get in my car and drive to the end of the world. Sometimes I think that maybe I can outrun the ache if I just go far enough and fast enough.

I tried that once, on the Ducati.

It doesn't actually work, and then you're pulling cactus spines out of your butt cheeks and wondering if the insurance will cover things.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

I look forward to  your telling of your badness.

My weekend, and in fact my last few weeks, was a blur of doing things that seem hopelessly like they must not be the right things, but somehow I think everything pretty much turns out OK in the end.

I have this ache I can't get away from, though.

I was just needing oxygen.  We don't have enough, and sometimes it makes me crazy.

It sounds a little like that restless feeling I get sometimes when I want to get in my car and drive to the end of the world. Sometimes I think that maybe I can outrun the ache if I just go far enough and fast enough.

I tried that once, on the Ducati.

It doesn't actually work, and then you're pulling cactus spines out of your butt cheeks and wondering if the insurance will cover things.

Yeah, I don't know if that method is the best bet for me.

We're coming up on the anniversary of that trip to Spokane.

[Triple Zero]

My old army buddy Willison spontaneously mailed me a pair of jeans in the improbable and hard-to-locate Roger size, plus some blank CDs.  Mrs TGRR asked, "He sent you WHAT?"  Hey, don't look gift pants in the mouth. Well, something like that.  Its that Canadia blood, I tell you.  Everything's all out of proportion, but that's the luck of the genetic draw.  Blank CDs I can fill with oddities and send off to "friends" from a bogus address, under an assumed name.  Imagine their surprise!  To each dog his bone.

What's so improbable about your jeans size? From your pics you seem a pretty normal size?

What's impossible to locate here, are some decent "boot-cut" jeans, in any size, that aren't made of "G Star RAW" from blue dyed paper napkin fabric that rips just from looking at it sharply. The only ones they have are "straight" which is fine and I'll probably get because I do need new jeans and the horrible inverted-boot-cut carrot-shaped "skinny jeans", that I'm only slowly getting used to women wearing (you have to look at them, after all) but you'll never catch me wearing one myself.

And uh just checking if I got this right but the treat about the empty CDs is not the CDs themselves but the fact that you can mail them back and he'll send them where you want so they appear to come from his location?