Editing Your Profile Is Like My...

Hard, that is.

Toys, No Equivocation

Bored. Bathroom's looking sweet. Drank some Chimay and Laphroaig. Feeling pretty good about myself.

Saturday hung out with Matt Andrade and Kevin: drank a lot of Chimay, Duvel, and Demonic/Diabolique/some freaking good beer I can't remember the name of. Some freaking good beer of which I can't remember the name. And for those that care: Chimay still wins.

Got a new digital camera at retail because fifty bucks ain't worth a day of my time, bitches. Translation: I bought it two days after it was on sale Black Friday for two bills because I don't wait in line that long for anything not bass related

(see comment re:Wii, www.jefflong.blogspot.com).

Want to see some pics? Mee too:

Bathroom. Tiles and paint. Should be pretty effing good.

Wasabi. Photo is slightly doctored because the last thing you want is realism.

How is it doctored, you ask? She's smiling. Duh!

Me, playing Lionel Richie (thanks, Kevin).

Also, I can take fancy artsy fartsy (but not really, Kevin) pictures, like this:

See how the cup is the only colored thing in there? That's no post-editing, people! That's how the photo was taken. Wow, is right.

And that's all she wrote. This week: Long Beach Christmas gigs: 6 of 'em, plus the Lighthouse, and PJ's Abbey. Nice, er, noice.

Pictures for You to Masturbate to (Finally!)

What've I been up to, you ask? This is my bathroom. Actually, was my bathroom.
This is my shower.Plumbing.

Extra bedroom.

My feet on my sweet new linoleum floor, circa 19let's-take-shrooms-and-trip.

Talking about tripping: the addition again. (The curves are the camera, I don't live in Toontown)

Shower pan, Jerry's (my future dad-in-law) FIRST EVER! Can't wait to have to kick the water down the drain!

We're all a little tuckered out. We'll get some rest soon, and hopefully have some folks over to show off our addition and Jess' and my bathroom. Sorry friends, your bathroom still sucks!

And that's been my life for the last two months. Good times. In other news, I "interviewed" for Anaheim School District today. The guy took one look at me, then at my resumé, which read "LAUSD" and made his decision (yes). So now I can teach closer for less money, but run into Lee Wright now and then! So today I celebrated like the little girl I am and bought Dickies and Pumas and patio chairs and Chimay and Mississippi Mud. I'll report back.

With a Little Help from My Friends

I've decided to learn the damn piano. Know why? 'Cause I want to. I can play chords and a melody now pretty badly, but I want to be able to actually play competently in couple of years. So the Professor is going to help me out. Scales again. And what he calls the Rosetta Stone. This will test my patience, but what the hell, it'll help my bass playing, so it's worth it.

Also, my friend and good drummer Scott convinced me that a bass player of my ability should not have to substitute teach to make ends meet. So, he's probably right. My fault. I'm lazy, as I've said before, and what you should do to work is make the phone ring. Dave Ashkenazy is a shuffling mo-f0. Calling people, hitting jams, staying on the scene. You know what I do? I sit and wait for the phone to ring. Bad Ryan. Get off your lazy white ass and spread the word that you exist. So I will, probably next Tuesday. I hate jam sessions, but it's what you gotta do sometimes. Anyone interested in joining me (Jeff), let me know.

I'm a bit eviscerated at the moment. I can't wait to slow down a little. Dancing With the Stars is on, and I'm glad I'm missing it. My in-laws never miss it. They think Mario will win. I think it's better than watching Wheel of Fortune.

By the way, the word of the day is gauche, pronounced GOHSH. It means awkward, clumsy, socially, that is. I have been feeling quite gauche lately, I just have very little creativity in the old noodle. I better get some back: Parkers' tommorow with Massey and Cunningham. Gotta keep up, gotta get good grades. The future's so bright... anyone?

Random, and Not Interesting, Even to Me

New copper plumbing today (and yesterday). Working under the house is difficult, especially if you're my dad doing it all. We all be terd, but everyone should be in high spirits because Arsenal are beating the poo out of Liverpool. Well, they're up 2-0 anyway. Thinking about what to eat at PJ's Abbey today. Jazz gig with Massey for brunch. And I get out of nasty pipe work. Mario Mario I am not, but I did fix the refrigerator! Our ice dispenser officially works (for now).

I'm... make that 3-0!

I'm sitting here wanting to type something interesting, but my mind cannot turn, doesn't unstick, and just won't, uh...

Drop Your Pants!

Another day at the mill. Substituted again, this time at the old stamping grounds. Easy day, little 6th grade shits that were pretty cool. This gig drop-off really sucks, I hate subbing all the time. I mean, 3 days a week of actual work really gets to you.

Here's a rant: my fiance (her birthday is tomorrow) tells me, "Do whatever you got to do, but take me out for my birthday." I get it, in-laws, remodel, no "us" time. Then today she leaves me a message, "Why don't you spend all your money and take me to Orange Hill?" Maybe she doesn't know I already bought her a damn smokin' gift, maybe she's half-joking, maybe she's being a royal pain in my ass. Maybe I'll take her out to cheap pho 'cause I like it, then park the truck in back of a Home Depot and... well, my Dad might read this so I better not go into details. And yes, of course this is all talk. I'll be nice. We'll have a good time. I'll try to keep it in my pants (for a little while). We're not going to Orange Hill, though.

In other news, that fantastic gig I played last week with Mark Massey turned into another. How 'bout that? God bless this life. When things look grim, magic happens.

Strikes and gutters, hills and valleys. The Dude abides.