"Hey, Tim, what's..."

I'll be sitting at my desk tending to my own business when someone will shout something at me. Usually, they will need to know something. Often I can give the answer right away. Other times I will need to think about it and other times still I will seek the answer out.

"Hey, Tim, what's that street off of Albany Street?"

There are lots of streets off of Albany Street but I'll have a clue as to which one he means but to be certain I'll ask a question.

"The one with the cobble stones?"

There is only one street off of Albany Street that has cobble stones.

"Yeah."

"I don't know but it starts with a 'P'," I'll say as I start to get up to look at a map that is sitting on a desk in an empty cube across from mine.

"Oh, don't get up. I can look it up. I just thought you might know off the top of your head."

If you could look it up in the first place then why didn't you. I don't go around bothering folks if I can easily find out the answer myself.

I'll proceed to look at the map and say "Plympton Street."

the old neighborhood

I was waiting for my order of crab rangoon and chicken fingers to go with the pizza that I was going to get up the street, when I overheard the guy at the counter talking about Karma only he wasn’t calling it Karma. I wasn’t trying to listen but there was just me and him other than the restaurant staff in the place.

“Once the guy next door at the bank, gave me a hundred dollars too much.”

“What guy?”

“The teller next door.” He lowered his voice and added “The black guy”. He then continued in a normal tone of voice, “Anyway, I gave it back and later that day, I hit my number for $800.”

“You what?”

“I hit my numbers, one of my numbers hit in the lottery for eight hundred bucks. I was being paid back for not taking the hundred. I could have just walked out of the bank with that extra hundred and nobody would have known but I gave it back and then I hit my number. Like God was paying me back or something. I believe if you do the right thing then good things will happen.”

Just as this part of his story was ending, three teenagers walked in. The boy was nearly shouting that South Boston Chinese was the best Chinese in South Boston. He said it at least twice. The girls he were with seemed unphased by his behavior. I was wondering who he was trying to convince and thought that if he really wanted to spread the word, then he should have walked either up the street or down the street and yelled his message in the other three Chinese food restaurants within a one block radius.

“Are you from here?” The lottery winner asked.

“Yes, I am.”

“Did you go to Southie High?”

“Yup.”

“Yeah? Me too. Did you go to the Gavin?” (The Gavin is a middle school.)

“No.”

“Well then you didn’t grow up here. And if you did, then you wouldn't be acting like you are. I don’t like it.”

The boy was quiet as the cashier motioned to me with a head nod that the brown paper bag that he was sliding across the counter between the two of them was for me.

I grew up in the neighborhood and I didn't go to the Gavin but I didn't like the kid's attitude either.

I think it's time to move on

I don't like the way I have to type while I'm using my laptop but that's a different story.

I think its time to move on but I've been thinking that for awhile. I think I'm done but I don't want to just end the relationship. We've been through a lot together, and it's not that things are bad, it's just that things aer never new.

I've been cutting down on our time together but there is still Fridays when I'll visit.

I had four or five beers when a co-worker called and asked me where I was, I told him and twenty minutes late he was sitting beside me. A half hour after that, I got another call and that person was soon standing beside me. So, I ended up staying longer than I planned.

I stayed past two shift changes and on the second one, I was asked to drop in on Sunday. She's one of my favorite bartenders so I did. After five beers, I ordered a scotch.

"I find that interesting."

"What."

"That you'll drink liquor after beer."

"I was never trained properly on drinking. I sort  of just taught myself."

Earlier in the day she handed me her phone so that I could she the comforter that she was ordering from Amazon. When I was leaving I told her that I was going to tell everyone that I had seen her bed linens.

This post really has no end. It just sort of stops.

Don't rob a bank with that guy

I sit outside the boss’s office so sometimes I hear things and when these things may affect my friends, I’ll give them the heads up. I did this yesterday.

I told my former supervisor that his boss’s boss was questioning the way that he was signing into work and I told him that his boss defended him. I mentioned it because sometimes he'll come in an hour late and have no excuse but his immediate boss comes into work fifteen minutes later than when he's late so he doesn't get caught. But his boss's boss often comes in at the same time as my former supervisor is supposed to be at his desk and he'll look at the sign in sheet.

Today, I hear my former supervisor in his boss’s office and he said, “I hear that Jim has an issue with the way I sign in.” Now, there are only a few ways that this information could have gotten back to my former supervisor: one is that Jim spoke to him, another is that his boss spoke to him and the others are either myself or the boss’s assistant told him something that was overheard in a private conversation. Jim didn’t speak to him and his boss obviously didn’t speak to him so that leaves me and the boss’s assistant as the possible spies and I don't think she was at her desk at the time.

I hate fucking retards that are too stupid to be helped. I specifically told him not to say anything unless Jim was to bring it up. There was no reason in the world for my former supervisor to mention what I told him in confidence to his boss.


"Yeah, you dumb cops. You have been looking for those bank robbers for months and you haven't even come close to suspecting me and Timmy."

Giving some sugar

I'm at the computer with the mouse that acts up from time to time. Presently, it is behaving.

One of the last times I was here, I shot off a few posts. One after one.

I don't think you'll be getting much more than this one.

But I didn't think that there would have been more than that first one, that last time.

Another election day. Another bake sale. During the phone conversation, she mentioned that another bake sale was coming up and asked if I wanted to bake anything. She said that it was up to me. Just, "If you wanted to," is how she phrased it.

The bake sale was all she mentioned in the call.

Why would I want to?

The next day, I dropped of toffee, toffee coated popcorn and pecan pralines. She had never returned my treat bags from the last bake sale so I figured she could bag all that stuff her lonesome.

I had been hoping to trade my candy treats for her sexual treats. Instead, she returned one of my plastic containers.

This is when I normally highlight all those words above and hit the delete key.

I mentioned balloon spit

We were with friends. We were in an Indian restaurant. I knew very few things on the menu. Mostly, because I had never been to an Indian restaurant.

I tasted everything sometimes one right after the other; not like I was tasting the things like I had hoped but more like I was just dared to taste everything.

My sister asked, "What's wrong?" I said, "One of those tasted like balloon spit," and she agreed.

One of the people we were with asked, "What's balloon spit?" But thankfully the conversation changed before I felt obliged to answer.

Now that I have been to an Indian restaurant, I still know very few things on the menu but I do know that I like saying Vindaloo.

record this record

Sometimes, the English language sucks.

What's my record for number of posts in a day?

Sometimes, the English language is literally poetry.

...

I sometimes wonder what she would do without me. I sometime wonder what she would have done with out me.

I never wonder what I would do without her.

it's the lust i love

page by page i print out her life

i've printed out a lot of her life

twenty five years worth

that's when we met

i would try to catch her unlatching the gate to her yard. she would have to reach over the gate for the latch. her stretching would reveal her lower back and tighten her already tight jeans.

the whole hole or there's a hole in my whole

in 2004 I made 597 posts
in 2005 I made 630 posts
in 2006 I made 572 posts
in 2007 I made 429 posts
in 2008 I made 174 posts
in 2009 I made 159 posts

It seemed a little bit telling when I saw the totals in the sidebar but I don't know what that telling is.

It seems something happened at the end of 2007. Maybe I should read those posts and see if I could find something out.

I think that's when I got poor. I think that's when my spirit broke. I think that is when I gave up hope. I think that is when I gave despair a place setting at the dinner table.

...

We were discussing union issues and I basically said that I wouldn't bring his suggestion to the bargaining table. He said, "I thought you were supposed to be representing me?" I said, "As, at least vice president, I represent the union as a whole." And then my friend said, "Yeah, he represents the union as a whole. He doesn't represent individual holes."

pumps and weigh stations

There are some people when they tell a story; they want you to agree with them and if you don’t agree with them right away then the press you to agree with them; but sometimes I’m just not going to agree. Sometimes their conclusions are not correct.

If it’s a point that I don’t really care about, I’ll just shrug but the other times, my heels dig in.

Yeah, that’s right sometimes I wear heels.

area code and then three twos

The last four numbers I was unfamiliar with but the three after the area code told me it was probably a business call.

I thought for a moment before I flipped the phone open.

A woman’s voice said, “Hey, I just called to say thanks for the other night.”

I get that a lot.

from the flash drive

It was Friday last afternoon; he was sitting at the bar when I walked in. I had just left a panicky office, there was some concern over some sign that were put up in some place. Nobody had any details and when folks usually don’t have details, it’s because of some knee jerk reaction. If someone is of a great concern, they give you details. They don’t called and say "Get those signs down from Main Street." They don’t say that because Main Street is a big street and Main Street has lots of different signs.

I had my coat on and was walking out the door when I heard of the problem; signs on Main Street even if they are the wrongs signs are nothing to get all riled up about and I felt any problem could be addressed on Monday.

I sat next to him as he put his phone back into in pocket. He had just heard about the signs and he told his boss that he would go to the location, stand on his car and take the signs down if he could.

I asked him: what type of signs were they and where on Main Street the signs were. He couldn’t answer the questions and I told him that there is never a time that he should be standing on his car.

He could be eight months from retirement and if he falls from his car doing something that he shouldn’t be doing, after he consumed a couple beers, then he could cause great difficulties for himself.

He went anyway.

On Monday morning he called me to let me inform the office that he stated workday from in the field. He couldn’t find the signs he was looking for on Friday, so he started Monday morning out by trying to find the signs again.

I wanted to ask him, "So you risked your pension for nothing then?" but I kept the question to myself.

My mouse is acting up

My mouse is acting up.

I had a dream last night and this guy was trying to get ride of these vermin. They lived in his yard but they would get into his house. They looked like and were about the size of groundhogs only their mouths looked more like that of a rat, and this guy was laying on his belly reaching into a hole in the yard while some of these critters were running about and hanging around and watching him and they didn't seem to happy about it.

I was wondering why he wasn't getting bitten when right then he got bit, but instead of worrying about just being infected with rabies or being further attached by even more creatures, he just got a little pissed off; he never pulled his hand out entirely from the hole, he just sort of flinched a bit.

I thought he was taking too much of a risk and I thought about my own problem with things living in my house and that how I know they are larger than the average house mouse but smaller than an average rat and I thought that at least I didn't have it as bad as that guy.

(I do have things living in the house)

(and my computer mouse doesn't always do what I want but it's old and has a ball and it isn't optical, I probably have to clean the tracking wheels)

I think a lot of questions

"Your wife could take up fucking your garbage man while solving abstract algebraic equations with her labia"

Is the labia solving the equations with some sort of thinking powers or is it more like merely holding a pencil somehow while she gyrates her hips to write out the answer, or maybe it queefs out the answer in some poorly pronounced language or is the labia like some sort of calculating tool like an abacus? I don't know how that last one would work probably because of my inexperience algebraic equations, calculating tools, abacuses and labias.

And before my knowledge of labias and queefing gets dismissed altogether, when someone snaps their fingers, the upper part of the thumb has nothing to do with making any part of the sound which is what you might think because you're rubbing your thumb against your finger but it's your finger slapping against the base of your thumb that makes the noise, and in queefing something is flapping to make the sound and I think the labia can contribute to this sound.

TB was my nickname in high school

Oh Blogger.com, I used to talk to you all the time.

Now it always seems I have nothing to say.

I picked up a Terabyte external hard drive the other day for about a hundred bucks. Not that I needed a hard drive that size but, man, that's huge. I remember when having two floppy drives was like being a king and having a 10MB internal hard drive was akin to being a Greek god.

I was writing an email and a thought crossed my mind that sometimes my soul is at odds with my morality.