To start off, I woke up this morning and had a very strange thought; why is my roommate, Ryan, using a staple-gun while I'm trying to sleep? I decided that since I was up (because of the repeated sharp but loud clicking noise coming from that god-awful staple-gun) I figured I'd just ask him.
"What the hell are you doing?" I screamed through my bedroom wall.
"Stapling," He yelled back. "The carpet is coming up from the floor."
"So, you're stapling it down?"
"Yep."
"Ryan, we live in the basement. The only thing under that carpet is cement."
"So?"
"So, you can't use a staple gun on concrete." I don't think I ever expected to have to say those words but I did.
I just stuck my head under my pillow and tried to finish sleeping before I had to get up for work. Ryan continued to staple the carpet into the cement and then he went off to bed.
Now, I understand that all of my roommates and I have different sleeping schedules and that sometimes things just have to be done while some of us are trying to sleep but stapling carpet into a concrete floor doesn't sound like an absolute 'Must-do'.
Not to long after Ryan went off to sleep in his tiny little corner of the basement Josh woke up and thought that the house needed some music to liven it up a bit. By this time it really was time for me to get my ass out of bed and start getting ready for work.
After a quick shower and shave I made my way up to have my morning cigarette. Josh and Mikey were both up and talking obsessively about some new video game that we've all been playing. The minute I walked into the living room I was pleasantly greeted with a fine piece of 'functional glass art', which is always nice to wake up to. I had a little bit of time before I had to leave so we all sat and talked for a while. I told them all about Ryan stapling the concrete and we all had a good laugh. Mikey even suggested that we do some sort of intervention with Ryan (whose body appears to have been recently possessed by the spirit of Tim "The toolman" Taylor). We all agreed that we should just take the tools away and make him quit cold turkey.
Josh gave me a lift downtown so that I wouldn't be late for work. As we started crossing the bridge I noticed that preparations for Rose Festival were under way and that brought with it a weird sense of excitement. Josh and I made a bet a few months back that he couldn't wait until Rose Festival to get a hair-cut. The deal is that if he gets his hair cut before it starts he has to stand out on the waterfront in a pretty little summer dress and wave the incoming Navy ships with a white handkerchief. However, if he doesn't get his hair cut before it starts then I have to run across the Hawthorne bridge in a leopard print G-string (Not a pretty picture, I guarantee). I have to admit that I'm a little apprehensive about running accross a rather lengthy bridge in nothing but a G-string but it will be the ultimate test for the exhibitionist living somewhere deep inside me.
Once we got across the bridge I hopped out and made a quick stop to pick up a pack of smoke and a soda. As I was leaving the store I ran into an old friend from a camp that I used to work at years ago. Her name was Lisa; she was the cousin of my first girlfriend and used to date my buddy Rob. And if memory serves me correctly, she and I actually dated for a short time. Long story short; her cousin dumped me, Rob dumped her and we agreed to be each others 'Rebound'. After about a month or so we just went off in our separate directions for no apparent reason what so ever.
We exchanged numbers and agreed that we should get together and catch up on old times. As to whether or not we'll actually do that, I doubt it. Still though, it's always nice to see an old familiar face.
A few blocks over I jumped on the MAX Train to make the oh-so-painful journey out to Beaverton. After a fairly uneventful ride I got off the MAX and hopped a bus. I swear to god there are always the same freakin people on the bus everyday, only they look nothing like they did the day before. I settled in to listen to the mindless ramblings of todays featured bible-thumper while the driver plowed through the twisty turny streets of Beaverton. I don't know if it's something new that they're teaching at the monastery but I'm pretty sure that the use of the word "Dawg" was not intended for teaching the gospel.
I'm quite certain that Billy Graham doesn't start out his sermons, or for that matter include the words, "Yo Dawg, Jesus' got the key to what's true in our hearts. Ya feelin me?"
By the time the bus got to my stop I was ready to jump off the bus whether it stopped or not. Needless to say the driver was considerate enough to stop and I made my escape with minor wounds (most of which are completely physiological) and walked down along the railroad tracks to work. I spent a good portion of the rest of my day waist deep in proverbial techno-shit until the gods finally release me from my temporary hell.
"What the hell are you doing?" I screamed through my bedroom wall.
"Stapling," He yelled back. "The carpet is coming up from the floor."
"So, you're stapling it down?"
"Yep."
"Ryan, we live in the basement. The only thing under that carpet is cement."
"So?"
"So, you can't use a staple gun on concrete." I don't think I ever expected to have to say those words but I did.
I just stuck my head under my pillow and tried to finish sleeping before I had to get up for work. Ryan continued to staple the carpet into the cement and then he went off to bed.
Now, I understand that all of my roommates and I have different sleeping schedules and that sometimes things just have to be done while some of us are trying to sleep but stapling carpet into a concrete floor doesn't sound like an absolute 'Must-do'.
Not to long after Ryan went off to sleep in his tiny little corner of the basement Josh woke up and thought that the house needed some music to liven it up a bit. By this time it really was time for me to get my ass out of bed and start getting ready for work.
After a quick shower and shave I made my way up to have my morning cigarette. Josh and Mikey were both up and talking obsessively about some new video game that we've all been playing. The minute I walked into the living room I was pleasantly greeted with a fine piece of 'functional glass art', which is always nice to wake up to. I had a little bit of time before I had to leave so we all sat and talked for a while. I told them all about Ryan stapling the concrete and we all had a good laugh. Mikey even suggested that we do some sort of intervention with Ryan (whose body appears to have been recently possessed by the spirit of Tim "The toolman" Taylor). We all agreed that we should just take the tools away and make him quit cold turkey.
Josh gave me a lift downtown so that I wouldn't be late for work. As we started crossing the bridge I noticed that preparations for Rose Festival were under way and that brought with it a weird sense of excitement. Josh and I made a bet a few months back that he couldn't wait until Rose Festival to get a hair-cut. The deal is that if he gets his hair cut before it starts he has to stand out on the waterfront in a pretty little summer dress and wave the incoming Navy ships with a white handkerchief. However, if he doesn't get his hair cut before it starts then I have to run across the Hawthorne bridge in a leopard print G-string (Not a pretty picture, I guarantee). I have to admit that I'm a little apprehensive about running accross a rather lengthy bridge in nothing but a G-string but it will be the ultimate test for the exhibitionist living somewhere deep inside me.
Once we got across the bridge I hopped out and made a quick stop to pick up a pack of smoke and a soda. As I was leaving the store I ran into an old friend from a camp that I used to work at years ago. Her name was Lisa; she was the cousin of my first girlfriend and used to date my buddy Rob. And if memory serves me correctly, she and I actually dated for a short time. Long story short; her cousin dumped me, Rob dumped her and we agreed to be each others 'Rebound'. After about a month or so we just went off in our separate directions for no apparent reason what so ever.
We exchanged numbers and agreed that we should get together and catch up on old times. As to whether or not we'll actually do that, I doubt it. Still though, it's always nice to see an old familiar face.
A few blocks over I jumped on the MAX Train to make the oh-so-painful journey out to Beaverton. After a fairly uneventful ride I got off the MAX and hopped a bus. I swear to god there are always the same freakin people on the bus everyday, only they look nothing like they did the day before. I settled in to listen to the mindless ramblings of todays featured bible-thumper while the driver plowed through the twisty turny streets of Beaverton. I don't know if it's something new that they're teaching at the monastery but I'm pretty sure that the use of the word "Dawg" was not intended for teaching the gospel.
I'm quite certain that Billy Graham doesn't start out his sermons, or for that matter include the words, "Yo Dawg, Jesus' got the key to what's true in our hearts. Ya feelin me?"
By the time the bus got to my stop I was ready to jump off the bus whether it stopped or not. Needless to say the driver was considerate enough to stop and I made my escape with minor wounds (most of which are completely physiological) and walked down along the railroad tracks to work. I spent a good portion of the rest of my day waist deep in proverbial techno-shit until the gods finally release me from my temporary hell.
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your stinky brudder