Road Trip
I have no idea how I am still conscious right now. But I have a why, and that should suffice, according to Nietzsche.
Anywho.
Tonight I went to the liquor store and both of my cards were declined -- oh shit, no beer for me! Br. Powers purchased us some delicious white asparagus and a jalapeño and an onion -- we lost the onion somewhere between Homeland and the Manor and my place -- and we fried these things in some eggs with garlic and salt and pepper and boy was it delicious, as was the rather nice $8 bottle of Riesling, Blue Nun, fruity but dry, and in a very pretty sapphire bottle.
We chatted for a while and discussed the very fascinating issue of the upcoming presidential election. In the interest of starting a flamewar, which I have not done in a while, I am going to go out there and say that I hope McCain or Giuliani win. No, that's not going to work -- McCain or Giuliani should win and you are wrong if you think otherwise. Well, perhaps that is too brazen and stupid. How about, McCain is honest, Giuliani has mob ties, either of these will obviously make a great president. Aww, it seems my troll has died :-(
Of course all this was fueled by cheap irish whiskey mixed into stale Sam's Club Diet Cola. Surprisingly palatable, that. To the tune of four glasses, oh my.
Shortly after midnight Br. Nikolaev arrived and offered me the exciting opportunity to accompany him on an impromptu road trip to Gypsy Coffee House in Tulsa. Not having anything to do tomorrow, or ever, really, and being slightly intoxicated and feeling somewhat adventurous, I, of course, accepted his offer and we embarked in his dear sweet mother's 2003 Jetta TDI, which I later found out I would be changing the brakepads on in a few hours, but fortunately not as the result of some emergent, necessitating phenomenon like sudden loss of braking ability but rather as a matter of course of regularly scheduled maintenance.
I liked Tulsa very much. While Alex tended to some business that I'll leave him to detail as I expect he will in a manner suitable to the character and nature of the particular enterprise as well as to the appropriateness of the general publicity of the disclosure of certain facts surrounding it but not others, I went for a stroll in North Downtown Tulsa. It was quite beautiful -- there are few things that strike me with such an awe-inspiring symmetry of grounding humility and glorious exultation as a large city at three o'clock on an icy morning, with snow on the ground and not a car in sight, and periodic splashes of yellow streetlights, nor an apparent excess of litter, with very clean streets and sidewalks, not a bum to be found, and each breath I let out briefly establishing itself in cloud form until it chilled and dissipated beyond visibility, and a cop finally driving past and slowing down a little bit as he approached me but not stopping, for I didn't swagger or stumble or make a scene, I just made minor but considerable and unsuspicious weather-motivated haste. Oh, what a lovely city -- I shall return!
Now, I have tired of writing blogposts and will probably move on to writing code. Yay!
Anywho.
Tonight I went to the liquor store and both of my cards were declined -- oh shit, no beer for me! Br. Powers purchased us some delicious white asparagus and a jalapeño and an onion -- we lost the onion somewhere between Homeland and the Manor and my place -- and we fried these things in some eggs with garlic and salt and pepper and boy was it delicious, as was the rather nice $8 bottle of Riesling, Blue Nun, fruity but dry, and in a very pretty sapphire bottle.
We chatted for a while and discussed the very fascinating issue of the upcoming presidential election. In the interest of starting a flamewar, which I have not done in a while, I am going to go out there and say that I hope McCain or Giuliani win. No, that's not going to work -- McCain or Giuliani should win and you are wrong if you think otherwise. Well, perhaps that is too brazen and stupid. How about, McCain is honest, Giuliani has mob ties, either of these will obviously make a great president. Aww, it seems my troll has died :-(
Of course all this was fueled by cheap irish whiskey mixed into stale Sam's Club Diet Cola. Surprisingly palatable, that. To the tune of four glasses, oh my.
Shortly after midnight Br. Nikolaev arrived and offered me the exciting opportunity to accompany him on an impromptu road trip to Gypsy Coffee House in Tulsa. Not having anything to do tomorrow, or ever, really, and being slightly intoxicated and feeling somewhat adventurous, I, of course, accepted his offer and we embarked in his dear sweet mother's 2003 Jetta TDI, which I later found out I would be changing the brakepads on in a few hours, but fortunately not as the result of some emergent, necessitating phenomenon like sudden loss of braking ability but rather as a matter of course of regularly scheduled maintenance.
I liked Tulsa very much. While Alex tended to some business that I'll leave him to detail as I expect he will in a manner suitable to the character and nature of the particular enterprise as well as to the appropriateness of the general publicity of the disclosure of certain facts surrounding it but not others, I went for a stroll in North Downtown Tulsa. It was quite beautiful -- there are few things that strike me with such an awe-inspiring symmetry of grounding humility and glorious exultation as a large city at three o'clock on an icy morning, with snow on the ground and not a car in sight, and periodic splashes of yellow streetlights, nor an apparent excess of litter, with very clean streets and sidewalks, not a bum to be found, and each breath I let out briefly establishing itself in cloud form until it chilled and dissipated beyond visibility, and a cop finally driving past and slowing down a little bit as he approached me but not stopping, for I didn't swagger or stumble or make a scene, I just made minor but considerable and unsuspicious weather-motivated haste. Oh, what a lovely city -- I shall return!
Now, I have tired of writing blogposts and will probably move on to writing code. Yay!