Wednesday, April 06, 2005

textbook irony Just now I picked my tooth with a card to get a morsel of meat out. I got the morsel of meat out, but a much bigger morsel of card got stuck in my tooth. 9:13:16 PM    comment [] bargains galore Today was all about bargains and lucky finds. Last night, I was on the verge of plunking down $120 or more to buy the rest of my plywood for the Orlando sign.  But a little voice inside my head said to wait at least another day.  I've been waiting on this big refund check from my insurance company, and getting that first would make my finances much more comfortable. But then this morning, good fortune struck.  One of our customers today had these boards lying on the side of his house.  Not only were they 4x8s, just like I needed, but they were actual sign boards, which go for $65 a pop (when brand new).  (Sign boards are so expensive because the wont warp or splinter in the elements, and they are primed and ready to paint, or letter on).  The customer said I could have four of the boards if I helped him install a little league outfiled sign just a block or two away.  (Apparently the guy is on the board of directors for the league, and the whole time I was helping him he was listening to the gripes of some parent who was outraged about a call that the umpire had made against his kid.  "Well, obviously, that guy has to go," the customer said of the umpire. The second lucky break came when I went shopping for club shirts for Saturday night--which will be a Hyde Park affair.  It went to the Express for men, which has shirts that I really like, but isn't exactly known for bargain prices. But low and behold, they had a bargain bin set up at the front of the store.  There were boxes and boxes of forty, fifty, and sixty dollar shirts on sale for ten bucks.  I nabbed a long sleeve and a short sleeve while on a short break from work. Even the 280Z I found for Jersey Girl seems to be a steal (at $1,400 bucks).  Goatbelt Matt checked the Autotrader online and found that Zs of similar condition go for $2,500 bucks or more.  Zs of that era which are mint go for $7,000 or $8,.000.  And of those cars, few or none were even in the state of Florida. I would totally buy that car myself if my money wasn't all marked for insane, self-promoting art projects.  I could use a break from driving my behemoth Ram pick-up which has to be parked like an ocean liner, and often rubs the edges of fast food, and bank drivethoughs. Anyway, tonights mission is to prepare the new (free boards), and finalize a poster design to sell and raise money for the Orlando project. Also: the Vitale Gallery has a date for their next show: April 16th.  Be there or be square. 7:18:31 PM    comment [] recent developments: *Yesterday, while doing that side to side motion whith my towel on my back (after my morning shower) I rubbed off a nickel sized pre-cancerous mole.  I reached behind my back to see what the hell was going on and found what looked like a smooshed rasin in my hand, doused in strawberry syrup. *I drank about 10 gallons of water over the past two days to overcome my extremely bashful kidneys and produce a sample for my drug test.  On my first try, I went to the probation office already bursting at the seams.  But as soon as I got in there with a little plastic cup in front of me and a probation dude starting at me from behind, my urethra (of whatever its called) clamped up like a submarine hatch.  After several agoninzing minutes of no result, the probation guy told me to go back and wait and drink more water. I went through that process two more times, drinking liters of water from the water fountain inbetween.  Finally it was the end of the day and my chances were over.  (As soon as I left the office and went to the bathroom at Subway, I peed for about 7 minutes straight). I was ordered to come back the next day at noon, and warned that if I wasn't able to produce, it would be the same as a refusal, and I would be in violation of my probation. I barely slept that night, as I tossed and turned and speculated as to what kind of barbaric puritanical toilet training my mom had put my through over thirty years ago. On the second day, I drank tea and water from the moment I got up until the moment I got to the probation office at noon, holding it all in.  Knowing my body would still rebel against me, and possibly send me to jail, I brought myself to the point of peeing in my pants--you know, when you feel that final little rivulet fill up and begin to trickle. Finally, this time, it worked.  I was so relieved about peeing that I forgot that I actually had to pass the test too.  They check it right on the spot in front of you.  Its just like a pregnancy test, but with five or six little strips instead of one.  (And all the names on those tester kits were as familiar as close friends; coke, ecstasy, thc--well, he's more like a crazy cousin). But alas, I was not pregnant with drugs, and would not give birth to jail time. *Another test: me and Goatbelt Matt test drove this cool old 280Z for Jersey Girl.  The thing runs pretty tight and looks really sharp, despite some minor rust and white smoke.  The guy only wants 1400obo--which means you offer a grand, and then he says 1200, and then you say, "okay." Jersey Girl will look like a superhero girl if she paints that thing up all sparkly pink and  then learns how to drive a stick.  A stick driving a stick. 8:28:03 AM    comment []

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