Privacy or No?

Hey Britney! Hi. How's it going?

I remember back in March when you said in an interview, "In the future, I will refrain from discussing my private life in interviews." That was funny. Then just a couple of weeks ago (June 15) when you were shooting the shit with Matt Lauer you said that you wanted the paparazzi to leave you alone and that you needed "privacy" and "respect." Sure. Makes sense. You are entitled to those human rights I suppose.

Well, I'm not judging you. You can do as you wish, but just to let you know, this sort of magazine cover stunt doesn't exactly take the spotlight off you or inspire the paparazzi to get bored of you.

I swear. It's true.

Flat Bride

I was going to post this photo anyway, but after getting a negative comment on a photo that has had me laughing for days, I knew that I had to post it in an attempt to redeem myself. My thinking here is that perhaps if scat-based humor isn't going to work, perhaps some bride trampling will.

These ladies are participating last week in a promotion goin' down in Times Square for WE tv's, Bridezillas. They are negotiating a frosting filled, wedding themed obstacle course to win $25,000 towards their upcoming nuptials. Funny enough right there if you ask me, but take a closer look at the photo. Click on it to make it bigger if you must. They all look nuts as can be, but the highlight is that there is definitely a trampled bridezilla down on the ground in the back. Not just down, but face first, limbs all over the place DOWN.

She's not winning shit. I just wish I was there to see it in person.

Drink With Those Who Do Not Judge

This past Friday evening, I had a work "outing" to attend. Work outings generally consist of some sort of brief meeting then an attempted game to build team camaraderie and then the thing that really seems to build team camaraderie -- boozing.

So, after about 6 hours of open bar, snacks and lots of talking about absolutely nothing, I head from Jersey City towards home. A former co-worker calls when I am about 20 steps from my door, telling me she is out just 10 short blocks away. I am certainly ready to call it a night, but am I smart enough to know this, or admit to this? Hells no! So, I stop in my apartment for a quick urination break and head back out again.

Saturday after I woke up and watched some SpongeBob I did a little recap of the night and quickly came to realize that I was pretty F'ing drunk by the end. I was able to IM my former co-worker about the latenight meet up, concerned that maybe I had been a disaster in front of her friends and boyfriend (all of whom I had never met before). The answer reveals that I hang out with the right people to keep me looking good ...

me: How retarded was I on Saturday night?
former co-worker: ha. I was so drunk I didn't even notice. I thought you were sober
me: Sweet.

I'm Taylor Hicks!

"I love shitting my pants in public. Check it out!"

Notable Quotable - Phil Style

I finally got to see the Pantera "Behind The Music" in its entirely the other day. My poor ass doesn't have cable, but one of my more upscale friends was nice enough to record it for me and I just finally got the VHS drop. It was a good one indeed. Sad for certain with the Dimebag shooting and all, but overall it was the kind of rock story that makes watching "Behind The Music" worth viewing -- rock, struggle, drugs, touring, boozing, breakdowns and death.

Phil, as is so often the case had some classic quotes, running the gambit of emotion and mental diagnosis:

Unbalanced?

"I guess not everybody that goes to a rock show or a heavy metal show is going there to get their nose broken, ya know a lot of people want to watch.

And I wouldn't allow it.

If I didn't get what I was demanding out of an audience I guess, I became furious."

Humble?

"Any free time I had I would start something that would turn into something awesome."

Confident?

"Don't underestimate the kid. You're fucking crazy if you do. And I AM the kid."

Peep the Pix

So, here are some selected photos from the Honduras escape. You can click on the photos for a larger view if you feel the need. I hope you like them, but even if you don't, I don't give a shit. Kidding. Of course I care about all of my readers and what they think. Always.

Let's go ...

This first photo is stop number one on the trip. The town is Copan Ruinas and the place is Casa de Cafe Bed & Breakfast (highly recommended). We had a nice little room with a nice little hammock just out the door that I made good use of.


Here's what I do best on vacation. This was about 5 minutes after we checked in. You can't beat a comfortable hammock with a good view.


Take a good look at this one. This is my wife. She has many rules about not ever appearing or being mentioned on this blog. This was an approved posting although I have full confidence that this decision could be reversed at any moment. Anyway, here is a photo of my wife with some green parrots. This looks like tons of fun going on, but is actually moments before the birds start getting a little too friendly and a look of panic crept onto her face:


This is a little travel buddy aptly called Witch Duck (notice the hat and cape). Here Witch Duck is meeting a new friend, Copan Cow.


From the country, we move to the beach. More specifically, the island of Roatan. This shot is from happy hour at the aptly named Sundowner. So nice. So delicious. It's in Half Moon Bay, conveniently located right near the place I was staying.


The sun sets on Half Moon Bay.


Possibly my greatest nature photo ever. Well, the camera did most of the work, but shit ... those little hummingbirds are fast so I get some credit.


This is me feeding a very tame toucan. If I was getting a pet and had the choice between a dog and this bird I may very well choose the bird. It was great.


Witch Duck again! This time beach bound. Sunscreen my little friend. Sunscreen.


This guy loves his job. He'd come out everyday with a goofy smile on his face and just drive along, fluffing up the beach at West Bay. I have serious thoughts of becoming his apprentice.


So very hard to celebrate 6/6/06 with Dave Matthews Band playing at the restaurant downstairs. Fuckin' Dave Matthews! So un-metal.


Here are two geckos doing the nasty. You never see the Geico gecko do that. My wife tried to tell me that they might just be cuddling. No way. If there is one thing I know, it's reptile sex. These two were humping.


Another day winds down at Half Moon Bay:


Guard dogs on the roof? I don't know how they got their asses up there or how effective a guarding tactic this is, but they certainly liked to bark. See how toucans are better than dogs?


This photo is another of my wife. This photo is not authorized, but I think it is great, so I am including it.


The end.

Quotes From Vacation

Sure there were many, but these two were within the first few days and I think really show how the brain goes from worrying about stupid shit like work, bills and the world's demise to absolute nonsense with the quickness:

I don't know where this conversation even came from, but it is nice to know that Toole's love for The Price Is Right stays with us even on vacation. Just for the record, the Burbank Airport is named after Bob Hope:

Wife: Is LAX the only airport in Los Angeles?
Me: Well it's the main one, but there is Long Beach, that's where Jet Blue flies. Also, there is one in Burbank. I think it is called the Ronald Reagan or Bob Barker or something like that.
Wife: [silence].
Me: Wait that's not right. I know it is named for someone, but Ronald Reagan is in DC, and there is no way the airport is named after Bob Barker. He's not even dead yet.
Wife: Well if Mike Toole was in charge it would be.

As an intro here, I will just say, that at every meal up to this point, I had some sort of cheese. Every meal.

Wife: (with package of cookies extended my way) Have another cookie.
Me: I don't want one. All I'm doing is eating fucking cookies.
Wife: No you're not ... you're eating cream and cheese too.

Back

I'm back from my R&R. It was great. Honduras was the location -- hot, cheap, relaxing and full of all things non-home. I'll post some photos soon (actually, the Time Warner fix-it crew is supposed to be fixing my internet connection in a little bit, so it will probably happen after that).

I find one thing that vacation always insures is meeting or at least encountering people from all over this crazy planet. That's great. It's always refreshing to meet other people in the same vacation state of mind you are. We met some interesting folks from Ireland, Canada, New Jersey and elsewhere. However, vacation or not, people are annoying more often than not, so I tend to get quite a nice list to hate. Vacation hating isn't really hate. It's just my special way of saying, "That guy/gal certainly is annoying." Sure, it isn't fair to judge an entire group on the actions of one, but I really don't mean it like that. I wouldn't judge a whole group on one person, but shit, I like to curse and a little internal, personal humor is fun. Plus, I hate more than just people. Here's my list (that still comes to mind) from my 16 days away from home: Fucking French. Fucking Texans. Fucking departure tax. Fucking Spaniards. Fucking Mario. Fucking security. Fucking Canadians. Fucking dogs. Fucking Italians. Fucking Bostonians. Fucking Southerners. Fucking locals. Fucking Flight 93. Fucking hippies. Fucking Israelis. Fucking birds. Fucking Fidel. Fucking sunburn. Fucking roosters (it's not even light out yet!). Fucking Brits. Fucking AnneSophie. Fucking New Yorkers (ya can't get away from 'em). Fucking lack of smoking ban. Fucking Argentineans. Fucking pork rinds. Fucking missionaries. Fucking Germans. Fucking Russian planes. Fucking etcetera.