Posted by todd
Sat, 05 Feb 2005 16:41:18 GMT
Last weekend I met a woman who may become my future ex-wife.
I know what you are thinking. You're thinking, "Todd, quit being such a romantic, you are never going to meet your ex-wife in a bar." Au contraire! Many a divorce has been formed while drinking copious amounts of alcohol and hitting on bartenders. Let me live my dream you naysaying bastards!
At any rate Tonya the bartender introduced herself by making me do a shot with her, and then asked "Do you like pirate jokes?" (Do I like pirate jokes...). To top it off, she turns out to be a martial arts instructor during the day and has ferrets as pets. Summary: She is a would-be pirate/ninja who drinks at work and has cool pets.
If you know me, you probably know that my taste in humor is, well, bad. I know lots of jokes, but I don't know a single good joke. I don't let that stop me. I must admit to enjoying the threats I often receive after a pun. Tonya and I had a joke contest, and she won by a landslide. If we joined forces, just think of the pain we could cause!
The bar is called Patricks II, and I could hit it with a golf ball from my apartment window. Well, at least I could if the cops would stop showing up, whiners. It's an Irish/Blues bar, which is strange, but Guinness and blues go surprisingly well together. It is quickly becoming my local hangout.
The only thing that the bar is lacking is large amounts of smoke. Don't get me wrong, I don't smoke anymore so it's a good thing; but it still doesn't feel right. Blues clubs are supposed to be smoky. I don't make the rules.
Contrary to popular belief, health is not a top priority for blues musicians. Where most singers don't smoke because it is bad for your voice, in the blues, a smokers voice is somewhat of a prerequisite. I'm going to sneak out back next time I'm there, and I'm pretty sure I'll see the singer with a carbon monoxide mask on so he can get ready for his next set.
Nothing gives you the blues like emphysema and cirrhosis.
Posted in Girlfriends | 7 comments | 70 trackbacks
Posted by todd
Mon, 17 Jan 2005 14:14:17 GMT
AKA: "Hey buddy, can you spare 38.57 cents so I can get a double skinny no whip frappucino?"
I spend a lot of time in Starbucks, and I have seen a good number of homless guys come in. Standard "homeless guy in Starbucks protocol" is to either ask to use the bathroom, or to try and bum money and then start shouting about bees or something when asked to leave. Although it isn't really a Good Thing(tm), a common theme in my life is that crazy people entertain me.
At any rate, this guy clearly hadn't read the manual. He just ordered a coffee.
Being California, I had to look outside and see his grocery cart before I was sure he was homeless. I mean, he could have just been a really dirty hippy, but no hippy would be seen in Starbucks or be caught dead with a WalMart shopping cart.
That is how pleasant the weather is in San Diego. Our HOMELESS have disposable income. I'm even second guessing myself about the guys that hang out near the cruise ships downtown. I mean hey if you have no home, a cruise is really a win/win; not only do you have a place to sleep, but wine is included!
Ok, this story is done as I've drifted severely off topic and am considering the benefits of living on a boat.
Posted in San Diego Nutjobs. | 3 comments | 68 trackbacks
Posted by todd
Mon, 10 Jan 2005 20:48:51 GMT
AKA: The Bum Says, "Hey buddy, shoot me! Just SHOOT ME!"
Today I met a nice man on the street who was driven over the edge by David Spade sitcoms. When will the madness end? Unfortunately for Mr. Crazyguy I was weaponless and in a hurry, so I had no time to help him out. I had an apartment to find.
Once again I'm moving! I've decided to move into the heart of downtown San Diego, the Gaslamp. You see, as a single man my only requirements are food, alcohol, and women all within walking distance; not in that order. In my current place I was *this* close, but with one fatal error; The majority of the women in the neighborhood preferred each other over me. Not that I blame them, I prefer them too.
This time, I'm shooting for the trifecta. The Gaslamp Quarter is as metropolitan as San Diego gets, chock full of resteraunts, bars, and women drinking martinis (which we have discussed before).
Secretly, I'm moving downtown because I am a lazy, lazy man. I don't have the motivation for all this "going places" and "leaving my neighborhood". If I want a beer, I want to walk across the street and have a beer. You can't get a DUI while walking.
Like many things, urban living is an acquired taste. A few years back I almost moved to NYC, and I was up checking out the area. The limo driver who was taking us around sums it up best.
John the Limo Driver was clearly a true Brooklyn guy, and he had the accent to prove it. My buddy was trying to convince me to move up there, and asked John to tell me to leave North Carolina. John said: (imagine heavy Brooklyn accent) "Well Tad, it's just a matter of what you like, crickets or cah-horns. I went down to North Carolina once and stayed at one of those fancy bed and breakfasts. All night long all I heard was cricket cricket cricket, cricket cricket cricket... I couldn't fuckin sleep! With cah-horns I don't even wake up." Stellar advice.
These days I prefer cah-horns. If some guy is hiding in my apartment with a cah-horn, I'll find the bastard.
Crickets are sneaky.
Posted in San Diego Nutjobs., Travel | 1 comment | no trackbacks
Posted by todd
Tue, 14 Dec 2004 19:20:55 GMT
If it's true that you can tell a lot about a person by what they drink, then there are a lot of "skinny pirates" in California. My opinion, is that if you order a rum and diet coke, you should be immediately removed from the bar. If you are a MAN and order that drink, you should be forced to stay, and wear a fuzzy pink eyepatch while you drink it.
In the old days, a martini was considered a manly drink; largely because James Bond drank them. Unfortunately, if James Bond ordered one today he would almost certainly be captured (temporarily) before the bartender finished shaking the fifteen different fruits together for his Flirtini. Alas, women now own the martini. In my opinion, they can keep them because lets face it, everybody wins when women drink Cosmos.
This only leaves a few drinks other than beer that a man can drink without being looked down upon. These drinks are Scotch on the rocks, and the Gin and Tonic.
Scotch is the drink of the intelligent drunk. It invokes thoughts of smoking rooms, Irish Setters (yes, I know that Scotch is not from Ireland.. I don't make the rules.), and of course massive, massive intoxication. It is the manliest of educated drinks. I mean, 151 is clearly more manly, but there isn't anything intelligent about it.
Scotch should be your drink of choice, except in bars where college age women are present. This is a special case. Ever feed a baby a lemon? It's fun! This is exactly how college girls react to Scotch. They think they want to try it, taste it, and then make funny faces.
On the other hand, babies LOVE Gin and Tonic! Now you know.
Posted in Bachelor Guides | 5 comments | no trackbacks
Posted by todd
Wed, 01 Dec 2004 19:06:57 GMT
AKA: Don't tell a bald barber you want your hair cut "short", and other wisdom.
I got my haircut during lunch today, and I went to a new barber. I may have underestimated my proximity to the naval base, because I now look like I should be holding a rifle. I did run around yelling "YOU CANT HANDLE THE TRUTH" for a bit, which made it ok. However, next time I will be sure to specify what "short" means.
I have a deep seated distrust for people with scissors. This is mostly due to the fact that I used to date hairdressers. On the upside, hey, free haircuts! On the downside, you instantly know where your relationship stands whenever you look in the mirror.
For instance, Angie cut my hair for years. Typically, she would cut my hair very nicely, so I looked as good as possible when we went out together. Sort of like getting your car washed. Unfortunately we argued quite a bit and my head was the barometer of love. In hindsight I should have known when to bring an umbrella. Once she bleached my hair WHITE... And then dumped me. Another time, convinced me to shave my head razor bald... And then dumped me (pattern, anyone?) :) I am certain she told her friends "lets see that ass get a date NOW!", at which point they would giggle and read their tarot cards.
Which brings me to my next bit of advice which is, don't ever let your girlfriend/wife/whatever read your tarot cards. Besides being silly, it will also lead you into conversations you don't want to have.
See, Tarot cards are designed such that you can read whatever you want into them. A good psychic will ask you questions in such a way that the cards will seem to tell you something. An angry woman will ask you questions in such a way that the cards will seem to tell you that you are an asshole.
"Ooooh, the king of cups, reversed.... This means you are hiding something and you should just admit it."... "OOOh.. the 5 of Pentacles... Unrequited love." (haven't bought her flowers lately, HAVE YOU!). I'm sure you see where I'm going.
Since my last date was with a lawyer, I'm totally screwed... Aren't I?
Posted in Bachelor Guides | 3 comments | 70 trackbacks
Posted by todd
Tue, 23 Nov 2004 03:39:48 GMT
I had a hot date set up for tonight, so during lunch today I went out to buy some new clothes to wear. She was indeed hot, and it was a good date. She was also a lawyer. I can't decide if that is really attractive, or a terrible idea. Big dogs are great until they bite you.
Picking out clothes is tough for a guy like me. By "for a guy like me", I mean "for a guy with absolutely no inherent fashion sense". My socks often don't match, and I have worn a suit with sandals more than once. Jamie and her friend recently taught me that "the only time blue and black go together is on a bruise", so I'm making progress, albeit slowly.
However, tonight there was no time for shenanigans (side note: shenanigans is a great word, yell it out loud right now and see how fun it is!). So ya know what I did? (no joke) I found a mannequin that I liked and bought everything it was wearing. It was my most daft shopping manuver ever.
I must know a tricked out doll when I see one because neighbor lady noticed my suave new shoes as soon as I came home!
Now the jury is still out (get it?, lawyer?, jury?....nevermind), but if I wind up with a second date I think I might be on to a new business model. Clothes for slack guys.
Mannequins to go, anyone? It would be a guys dream come true. I'd hire Corrina Bowers and every other woman who ever pointed out when I didn't match. We would put in a drive through, and make millions.
That is, until I got sued and got taken to the cleaners.. (get it? clothing?, cleaners?.... Oh I give up.)
Goodnight.
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Posted by todd
Sat, 20 Nov 2004 02:11:45 GMT
One thing I've noticed since moving to San Diego, is that a large number of whiny protesters live here. Now, prior to living here I would refer to these people as dirty hippies; however I have come to the conclusion that they are not actually all about Peace and Love (TM). In fact they are just a bunch of vocal advocates for all things cute or made of wood.
Another thing I've noticed is that there are a LOT... A LOT of Vegans here (Vegans don't eat anything that came from an animal). I've even heard of (but thankfully never met) people who refuse to eat anything that hasn't fallen naturally from the tree, because they think that plants feel pain and cutting shit off them is bad.
The older I get, the more people I think are idiots.
A few weeks ago I the privilege of shooting down TWO sets of tweakers in a single walk. It was far and away my best performance to date.
One was a group of PETA freaks (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals), who were showing a video of cows getting slaughtered. They were just standing on the sidewalk near my apartment, and when I went to figure out why the hell someone had a TV strapped to their chest; they tried to convince me not to eat animals. Animals are yummy, so I decided to disagree with them.... Actually, I decided to tell them "Vegetables aren't food, vegetables are what food eats; go fuck yourself". The best part was they actually left! The moral of this story is that eating lettuce all day makes you a wimp.
Immediately after that I walked past a woman who I think was trying to talk to people about Christianity. After asking me "Son, do you believe in god?" The look on this woman's face when I said "No" and kept walking made my week. It was like she had just seen the devil himself.
I can't bring myself to mess with the dolphin lovers yet though, because hey, who doesn't like dolphins?
Posted in San Diego Nutjobs. | 5 comments | no trackbacks
Posted by todd
Wed, 10 Nov 2004 03:21:07 GMT
This requires some background, and is a bit off topic for this blog, but oh well. While wasting time tonight I found an old email on an old computer that took me back to the early days of my last company. The company was hurting (but survived), we were kids (some more than others), numerous people slept in the office... and it was a ton of fun.
I was challenged to call a meeting in the style of rap.. and this was my response. Crank up the Snoop Dog and sing along.
This will mean nothing to those of you who didn't work there in 2001.
Received: from localhost (allen@localhost) by loki.pinpoint.com
(8.11.1/8.11.1) with ESMTP id f6QK5kg02008 for
; Thu, 26
Jul 2001 16:05:46 -0400
From: Todd Allen
To: tech@pinpoint.com
In response to my challenge for a gangsta rap invitation to the all
hands meeting, to the tune of "Gin and Juice"
With so much stuff missing from the tree,
It's kinda hard bein Geek T O double D.
But I, somehow some way.
Keep puttin up with Luk's shit like every single day.
Can I, call a little meetin, just for the geeks (yeah)
Ill make a project, as a pre-view.
When it's Two in the mornin and the server's still crashin,
Cause Dave Luk's wrote the code,
We got High-life in the systems room, we're lookin a pr0n.
Tech meetins tomorrow 10:30 in the morn'in
So, whatcha gonna do (sheeit)
I got a binder full of screenshots and Dimarco does too.
So close() after write()'s, and check your for{}'s.
But (but what), when Luk's talks don't snore.
So we gonna trounce a bug to this,
T's up Joe's down, as you mother*s laugh at this.
Shut down StartupStreet, Soccer's in though, sorry if it's obtuse.
Paid back, (with my mind on our funding and our funding on my mind).
Now that I got my, code checked in,
Everybody's got some bugs, that we ain't fix'in.
This kinda shit happens all the time, and I know that we'll ship before
I fix mine.
Everything sounds fine when your talkin to V-icky,
She's got that marketing mindset, that's always makin me sketchy.
But we listen, to what she speaks,
Though it drives me to drink in the middle of the week ;)
and get emac'in on this file named Vendor,
and keep on hopin that the, stat's will render.
and then we,
Shut down StartupStreet, Soccer's in though, sorry if it's
obtuse.(beeyotch)
Paid back, (with my mind on our funding and our funding on my mind).
Shut down StartupStreet, Soccer's in though, sorry if it's
obtuse.(beeyotch)
Paid back, (with my mind on our funding and our funding on my mind).
(sorry, no time for the last verse)..
Cya there!
T
-----------------------------------------------------------
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Posted by todd
Thu, 04 Nov 2004 03:09:09 GMT
AKA: A girl invades the bachelor apartment.
Aah, Halloween.
Halloween is the perfect holiday in my opinion. Nobody gets mad if you don't call, you don't have to go shopping for that perfect gift or go places where it snows. Hell, you don't even have to match properly! (This is a good thing for someone nicknamed Todd-Style)
Best of all, you get to go to parties with girls dressed in things they would never normally wear. Things that require biker shorts to be worn underneath them to avoid being arrested. What more could you ask for, really?
My friend Jamie came to visit last week from Raleigh, and stayed with me. We had a lot of fun; however the fact that she was staying at my apartment required some "adjustments" to my living conditions. Word on the street says that girls don't like a mess, so right before she showed up I gave the place a thorough cleaning. Or so I thought.
Remember that shower curtain? Yeah, it's still on the floor. Have I talked about my fridge? Well, it's still pretty much empty! According to Jamie, there is a dirty plate that's been in my sink since she got here, but I'm not quite ready to check yet. Perhaps if I wait a bit longer, it will just get bored and walk away.
The Tharpie didn't seem to mind though, and I get the feeling she's actually a bit of a bachelorette herself. Nobody who takes a nap exactly 2 minutes after they wake up every day can be *that* domesticated.
Overall, playing non-bachelor for five days and having a girl stay with me was fun! Not that most women would put up with my crap for much longer than that, but hey, we were *this* close to finding me a new shower rod! See, I can be a responsible adult when I'm shamed into it.
Things I learned from this experience:
1. Jamie looks hot dressed inappropriately for normal society, ie.. As Dorothy, or in a wetsuit.
2. Ruby red slippers result in ruby red glitter all over the ruby red freaking place.
3. If you buy a girl a drink at the bar and she turns it down, she may still be interested and just very confused by the concept.
4. I have a dirty dish in my sink from the last time I had chinese food.. which was a long time ago. (I just checked)
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Posted by todd
Wed, 06 Oct 2004 20:54:08 GMT
They say that when it rains it pours, although it rarely rains here, so I'm not sure what the local term would be. "When it is overcast, it's really overcast" just doesn't cut it.
Anyway, when things start off badly, they tend to continue that way.
I woke up early this morning (for me, which means about 8:30). I jumped in the shower, and almost immediately the shower curtain rod came crashing to the floor. Repeated attempts to put it back up failed, so I just let the floor get wet. Screw it, it's an apartment.
Having seen days like this before, I should have just gone back to bed, but hey I'm a busy man! I don't have time for all this "sleeping" and "not stabbing myself in the face with a toothbrush" stuff. So I brushed my teeth.
I stabbed myself in the face with the toothbrush.
I'm not talking about mild face stabbing here either. I slipped and jammed my gums with the toothbrush so hard I actually drew blood! Lots of it! I think I'm going to just get my face pierced now and be done with it.
Needless to say my toothbrush is now missing, and is quite likely embedded in the wall somewhere. My cat is also hiding, but I doubt he has the toothbrush.
The rest of my day has gone uneventfully. Then again I sit in a tiny office with no windows all day long, so short of someone cutting off my ventilation I'm pretty safe here. Tonight I'm going to the movies though. Danger!
Anyone want to take bets on how long I shower without a curtin?
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