Monday, February 27, 2006

All hail Chaos!

It's a good thing, in the long run.

Been too long since an update. I'll keep it brief.

Only been skiing TWICE this year, so far. Which is horribly wrong. There are many to blame, of course myself being one.

However when you work for a Fortune 100 company, and where my sector of said company is basically controlled by a Fortune 50 company (hell my company may be in the top 50 and the other could be in the top 10, I have no desire to research)[UPDATE I DID THE RESEARCH. MY COMAONY IS IN THE TOP 50, AND THE CUSTOMER IS IN THE TOP 15 FOR WHATEVER THAT'S WORTH}it makes one's life be at the beck and call of the customer company. I am not alone in this. There are 100+ people who are in the same boat as myself. I reckon I could quit, but that's not in my nature. I'll either survive, or end up a quivering puddle of ulcerated flesh in my office with puddles of stomach acid oozing from my pores.

There could be worse ways to check out. Look what my man Zeus did to poor Prometheus. That poor dude gets his liver ripped out every day by an Eagle. Then it grows back for the process to repeat. Actually in my case a new liver every day would not be a bad thing. I just would like to avoid the being chained to a rock part of it, if at all possible in case you're reading this Zeus.

Speaking of bad livers, Necro has lived with us for the past couple of months. Actually he just finally made it to his new home in North Carolina. But he didn't get off that easy, he left part of his thumb behind in New England. Actually he left it behind in Ipswhich. I have a feeling he's gonna start having horrible nightmares involving frogpeople and sooner, rather than later, Cthulu, the evil ancient God will take over his mind. You can't leave your flesh and blood behind in the prime area where HP Lovecraft clearly wrote that the Cthulu worshipers resided.

Actually, to anyone who knows Necro, he may have been under the control of Cthulu for longer than we ever imagined. One thing is for sure, to anyone who has hung around that area of Ipswhich, and the points west on the North Shore of Mass, you KNOW why HP Lovecraft wrote such stories. Those people are fucked up, at least the old time locals.

In any event, I work too much lately, which thereby indicates I also smoke too much. I never drink too much, because being Portuguese and Irish that's a genetic impossibility. I'm still alive right?

Oh, and our whole town here is divided on voting to get the $ for a new school. There are signs up everywhere that say VOTE NO and VOTE YES. I wish I was more involved with local government. I would have tried to introduce option 3. VOTE TO KILL THE CHILDREN! That way, not only would the town avoid having to come up with 25 million to build a new school, they could get rid of the existing 6 million dollar school budget. I would have wanted to do that just to see how many votes it got. I bet around 50. There are a lot of really bitter old people in this town who hate all the Massholes who have moved here in the last 5 years. Hell, they might have volunteered to kill the children themselves. One thing I do know, none of those poor kids who parents are Massholes know how to handle a weapon. Ah well, as Captain Morgan once said to Captain Wearing about invading Maircaibo "We're just daydreaming Jaime-boy. Being Governor is going to require some restraint".

Lastly, here is an interview with the local surgeon who performed major surgery on my good friend the Cod God.

You can read his blog HERE

Friday, January 27, 2006

I hate you all

Well Necro from the Kings of Nuthin has been living in the Crevanator Compound for the last month or so.

We're all fucked up and here was the latest quote worth writing down:
"You know what I like about Tor? He brings the Girlie movies that I will actually watch, like Girl interrupted and Cinderella Man.".

As a post script I was instructed to add something about some girl's Prom movie.

Oh, and here's a picture of Big Nasty, myself, Gail, Wimpy, and Necro.

Thursday, September 15, 2005

Goddamn Fisher Cat


I get back to the Crevanator Compound tonight, after my usual post-work trip to the bar in Durham. Everything is peachy. I got to see Copy Jon, Crazy Dave, Jillian, Captain Leech, Katie the bartendress, Book store Heather, Hook and for the first time in two years, the crazy Muslim Ethiopian dude who breaks every tenant of his religion now and then and shows up at the bar and gets incredibly wasted and tries to buy everyone shots. A good time was had by all (especially myself, as I left before crazy Muslim Ethiopian dude started feeling guilty about being drunk and acted, well, even crazier. Trust me, I've seen it. In fact, I can probably pretty much predict what is happening at that bar right at this instant.)

In any event, I finally get home. First things being first, I take out Lucy the dog to pee and, if required, to crap. Suddenly I hear, from no more than 40-50 feet away, the creepiest and perhaps most dangerous howl you can hear if you live up here in New Hampshire. It was a Fisher Cat. Believe me, I know this sound, I've spent a lot of time in the woods. Below is a pic of one these foul beasts.

This pic is of a stuffed Fisher Cat. They are not very conducive to being photographed. You see, they tend to attack anything they see. I have a good friend who was a game warden for the state of the NH and she made the mistake of coming across one during dusk (they are nocturnal)and it immediately attacked her. She had to shoot it.

Here's some info about Fisher Cats:
"The Fisher Cat, is one of New Hampshire's most elusive animals, and a ferocious predator of small game. They are very fast on their feet and can turn on a dime. Few ever get the chance to see a fisher, mainly because they are nocturnal, but can be heard calling in the woodlands during their mating season. They have a chilling scream very much like that of high pitched child."

"They are also famous for their ability to successfully hunt and kill porcupines. One of the very few other animals to prey on porcupines is a close cousin of the fisher, the wolverine. The fishers’ long, wedge-shaped snout is well suited for making vicious attacks to the porcupines face until mortal wounds cause the porcupine to succumb."

In any event, the cry of the Fisher Cat makes the dog freak out in fear, so I haul her ass back inside. Then I realize our two cats are outside. There's no easier meal to a fisher cat than a house cat. So I step on the porch and start calling the cats. Boris (the smart one) has already been hiding under the back porch, and quickly bolts up and inside with his tail as puffy as can be. Bela,(the stupid one) is nowhere to be found. Normally the Fisher only makes it's hideous noise (imagine a human baby being murdered VERY slowly) during mating season. However, I have heard them make the same sounds right after a kill, or when they are pissed off. Since the fucking thing is so close to my house, I am worried about Bela. I go inside, grab my Glock and a Flashlight and head out towards where I last heard the sound. I do this whilst making as much noise as I can. Luckily, Bela runs past me to the porch before I get too far.

All I know is the cats aren't going outside for a couple of days. Normally a Fisher Cat (especially a male like this one was, if he was doing a mating call) won't stick around too long. I dunno. I have a feeling there are going to be some missing cat posters in this general neighborhood soon. We last had a Fisher make itself known around the 600 acres of woods/wetlands behind the Crevanator Compound 2 years ago. A few cats went missing.

I wonder if this is the same one, making the rounds? It very well could be. I feel bad for the Beavers and Otters out in the 2 ponds, they better be careful too.

Oh, as for this Sunday Patriots 35, Panthers 24
You heard it here first

Tuesday, August 16, 2005

I know I promised an bigger update oh, 'bout 2 weeks ago. Things did not go as planned. You see, things have just been way too busy on this front. I just don't have time for anything but work at this point. Even my bar hopping and drinking has suffered, which believe me is far more important than all those e-mails I haven't replied to, the bills I haven't paid and the Mustang that sits in my garage not driven since last Ocotober because I don't have time to fix it. However I did fell obligated to post this pic. It's not every day one is driving down the street in my town of 2500 people and you just happen to have your digital camera handy, and then you see THIS. Yes, that is in fact Greg the Hammer Valentine in his full wrestling gear leaning on a telephone pole on the side of Wadleigh Falls Road in Newmarket, NH.  Posted by Picasa

Friday, July 22, 2005

My hair is beautiful

A much longer post is coming soon. But I felt the need to post this pic from this past weekend. I have no idea where, when, why or whom took this photo. That leads me to believe, since it violates pretty much every journalistic code of ethics, that it was done by my friend at the Christian Science Monitor, the Swede. I also have no idea how this hat came into my home, never mind how it came to be placed upon my head, I assume via my own free will. However, that gorgeous hair is all mine. This once again makes me believe that the hat was placed upon my head by jealous balding douchebags like the Swede, Bad News Hughes, Captain Leech, Joe King, the Cod God, KFK, well the list just goes on and on. Posted by Picasa

Sunday, May 29, 2005

Here's a closeup of the best catches of the night. We're filling up the frog pond tomorrow Posted by Hello

That time of year again. Ayup, if anyone of y'all remember the post from this time last year, it be frog/toad huntin' season. On the way back home from the bar today the hunting was so good, we had to leave at least 2 dozen behind, as we had run out of tupperware. Here is Mara with some of the best catches. One baby tree frog, a decent sized toad, and two big ol Bullfrogs. Posted by Hello