Dec 25 2010

here it is christmastime

Merry Christmas, from deep in the heart of Texas.


Dec 23 2010

austin city limits

I wonder how many visitors to Austin realize that the North-South streets are named after Texas rivers.  I know because I’m really, really smart.  And because Lyle Lovett told me so.  I wish I could have found his version of the song instead of the joker above.

Anyway, this reminds me that I forgot to mention I’m in Austin for Christmas.  You might remember Austin from its prominent placement on the spite list.  Now might also be a good time to mention that one of the recurring themes of hotrodtothe.com in the new year is going to be removing items from the spite list.  Bah!  Humbug.


Aug 31 2007

best. vacation. ever.

Okay, everybody – put the kiddies to bed, 'cause this one sure as shit ain't gonna be Maggie-friendly….

 

Fuck Texas.  Fuck.  Texas.  And fuck North fucking Carolina too.  A few years back, on my way to China, the plane I was on out of JFK had some mechanical problems and they had to cancel the flight.  It was a hassle, but the people at the desk re-booked every single person and we went on our way.  Because people in New York know that they need to get shit done.  You don't find any of that laissez-faire "You can fly out tomorrow" shit-kicker attitude in New York.  People in North Carolina could stand to learn a few goddamn things from New Yorkers.

But I wouldn't be in this predicament in the first place if Texas wasn't a god-forsaken place where no one should live.  Apparently dump-trucks of rain fall on the place daily during the summer and Texans are too fucking stupid to realize: "Hey, maybe we shouldn't live here."  I'm not even kidding any more.  We need to give Texas back to Mexico.  It's what they want anyway.

Obviously, I'm not on my way yet to South America.  My connecting flight to Dallas was cancelled due to weather.  The plan as of now is to fly to Miami tomorrow afternoon and connect to Santiago to land at 6:30AM in time for my 8:30AM flight to Easter Island.  There's not a whole lot of room for error, though.  And I'd be lying if I said I was feeling overwhelmingly positive about this going off without a snag.  I suppose some might consider this karmic payback for my crack about "gloat[ing]" in my previous post.  But I, for one, feel I am to be commended; I toned the smugness down quite a bit.  I didn't even mention "the littles" like I did in my first draft.

For the immediate future, my options are limited.  And I'm not even thinking far enough ahead to consider how to kill the day tomorrow.  I've already checked with Emma and Daby, and apparently Raleigh is too far from the Outer Banks for them to come pick me up so I can hang with them for the evening.  Who knew?  I mean – they're both in the same goddamn state, right?  Seemed reasonable to me….  Anyway, my options for a glorious evening in bum-fuck North Carolina seem to be:

A/ Remain here in this too-small-for-two-people "business center" at the Days Inn with my new douchebag friend right next to me talking and laughing to himself and surf the internet on this slow-ass probably dial-up podunk bullshit connection.

B/ Hit the Waffle House next door and then watch some TV and hit the sack.

C/ Go get drunk at Hooters.

I wish I was joking.  I think I'm gonna go to Hooters.  Perfect.  I'm the best seventeen-year-old ever.

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Jul 6 2007

where are they now?

Most of yinz – if you're like me – think of Houston, Texas primarily as the home of the space program.  I've got a healthy respect for the rocket scientists and astronauts in its employ.  I love me some "Apollo 13" and fairly recently watched "The Right Stuff," and I have warm feelings every time see them.  They help me to forget, however briefly, that Houston is in Texas.

You see, Texas – at least as far as I can tell (or care to tell) – is filled with people like my good pal Eric Floyd.  Longtime readers will recall Eric as that inquisitive soul who "challenged" my extremely controversial idea that it really sucked that my Grandma had Parkinson's.  A comment by Vanna over on Jodi's blog made me think of him.  Checking in on him felt just like old times.  I'm pleased to see Mr. Floyd has been occupying his time with the most highly intellectual of pursuits.

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