i am in a fight...

As I was on the way to the gym yesterday, I felt something large crawling up my leg. I have fairly hairy legs, however, so gaging size based on the tactile feedback of hair displacement can be difficult and deceptive.
It felt big though. It had some mass. I could feel it's weight on my leg. I yelped like a small girl and almost turned into oncoming traffic trying to get whatever it was off my leg.
Those of you who have been reading stuff I've written for some time, might be reminded of the fight I had with the imaginary rat that lived behind the firewall of my VR6. If I can find the recount of that fight, I will post it. THIS was different though.
This time, I actually saw the thing I was fighting with.
It dragged its fat body off my leg and landed on the floor of the car with an audible plop. (I may have colored this detail in with my mind. I can admit to imaginus overactus.) It then, somehow, though the size of a mini-dvd, disappear.
I am not big into the squishing of living things. I avoid stepping on ants and will not kill what doesn't need to be killed. Mosquitoes actively sucking my blood need to be killed.
Giant mutant killer spiders, scuttling around my feet, giving me sickening waves of revulsion, need to be killed.
I started stomping my feet around, trying to shmoosh it. I couldn't find it though. It was gone.
But... it is NOT gone. It is performing stealth attacks on me. It is biting me, the little mother...
Check this out:


See? Do you see!? Evidence of the attack. I'm not crazy. YOU'RE crazy!

Can anyone guess what body part that is, by the way? I took the picture, and it's my body, and I can't quite tell what it is.

the infant of prague... no, really...

Here it is.
Again, the quality is not... Well that's just it. The quality is really not.
But still, it's me in a dopey costume.

Have fun.

infant of prague update...

I am uploading the video of me as the I of P as we speak. Or rather, as I type and you read.
In the meantime, for those who have never seen it, here is a movie I made last year.
It's about a trip to the mall.
I call it "Trip to the Mall".

swarvey acts...

Here is video from the showcase of my scene study class last night. The video is not quite the quality of your average Loch Ness Monster footage, but it will give you some idea of what went on.

OR... not.

Apparently blogger does not have all the bugs worked out of its video upload portion.

Stay tuned.

sorry anonymous...

I have started receiving spam comments, so I have had to turn off the ability for non-registered users to comment.
Here's a big Sorry to those weak-spined and/or lazy bastards who were posting under anonymous in the first place.

cashew juice update...

First off, I am spelling cashew correctly. I feel good about that.
Secondly, while the work crew mentioned in my last post was having the mid-day pizza, which I believe is required by law under these circumstances, a lady poured herself a big cup of the cashew juice.
Now, I knew she thought it was lemon aid, because that's what makes sense to have on a table with pizza for a bunch of people who have been working in a brownie all day.
As she brought it to her lips, he nose caught wind of what was going on and told her mouth to not take the big gulp she would have taken normally.
She took an apprehensive little sip. Then she made a face similar to the face I believe I made when I first heard about the website devoted to counting down to when the Olsen twins, who were nine at the time, would be "legal".
She said, brightly, "Oh! This doesn't taste right to me at all!"
"It's cashew juice." I offered helpfully.
"Is THAT what it is?", she said. Then promptly dumped it in the garbage.

Mmmm. Cashew juice.

cashew juice...

Having a big clean up day around the mill building Jenn and I live in. About 12 tenants trying to trim back a couple of decades worth of over growth. Hacking and hauling bushes, small trees, medium sized trees and various vine-ed vegetation.
It's 85 degrees out with a good level of humidity. By good, I mean a lot. The air is warm and moist. It is like breathing a nice, fresh brownie, just out of the oven.
We are dirty, smelly and bordering on miserable, though people are all struggling to stay positive and energized.
One way we are all doing this is by sharing fluids with each other. Do not make clinical assumptions. I'm talking about sharing jugs (heh) of water and Gatoraid and what have you.
One nice Brazilian lady proffered a yellowish fluid. It was sloshing around invitingly. It looked like lemon aid. I like lemon aid. It was not lemon aid.
It was cashew juice. Don't know if I'm spelling that right. Cashew, like the nut. The nut you eat. Not drink.
Still, it looked good.
But, it smelled bad. It smelled like compost.
You'd think, if something smelled like compost, you would avoid putting it in your mouth.
She was standing right there after pouring it, telling us about Brazil and crap.
I suggest, if you have a cup of something in front of you that smells like compost, go with your natural instinct to NOT put it in your mouth, even if the person who gave it to you nicely is still standing there waiting for you to drink it. Make an excuse for why you cannot drink at that second. Try this, "Oh! I have to take my anti-psychotic medications just now. I'll wash them all down with this lovely cup of cashew juice! But I have to take a lot of them so I'll need the whole cup! Be back later! Thank you!"
I was not able to come up with anything as clever as that at the moment so I drank some.



Cashew juice tastes like a bunch of dirty butts.

oh swarvey, you suck...

Someone I work with was talking about his extra-worklife activities. He plays keys for a couple of different bands and does some DJ-ing. He is presenting an evening of jocularity at a new-ish club in Fall River.
As I lived in Fall River 15 years ago, he asked me if I knew about the club that opened this spring.
After finding out that I did not know the club, he explained where it was in the city. It's in just about the roughest area they could have thought of in which to build a club.
At least, the roughest area of Fall River.
If you had the roughest area of Fall River fight the roughest area of, say, Philly, the roughest area of Fall River would put on a dress and cower under a couch.
Still, not a great place to build your club. I said so.
He said that there was a time when a bad element had taken up residence of the club, but that the owner has had the bad element moved out.
I said, with requisite confidence and flair, "Oh? Did he bring Dillon in?"
I got no response from the table. I was pissed off and disappointed. I eat with some fairly well-versed movie guys. I expected someone to know what I was talking about. No one did.
"Man. Road House? Hello?", I said in frustration.
Almost in unison the table of people I was yelling at for being dopey told me the name I was looking for was DALTON, not DILLON.
Damn it.
I was cowed. I usually have a witty retort, well, I usually have A retort. But I got nothin'.
It might have been a nice little joke. It might have been happy. Instead, I clubbed it like a seal.

How could I forget? How could I forget?



Forgive me, Swayze.

welcome...

Welcome to www.swarveyland.com!
I might make bumperstickers.
Maybe can openers.

Would you like a can opener with www.swarveyland.com on it? How cool would it be to see my page name while cracking open a can of pork n' beans?

Ooh. Even better. swarveyland.com brand pork n' beans...

What would YOU like to see www.swarveyland.com printed on?

Look. I made a logo. Check it out.



You can see from the crazy letters of my logo that wackiness could break out here at any second.
ANY SECOND.
I'm serious.

Tell me you can't see it across a mousepad or blood sugar level testing device.

reason for bailing on "blog"...

I was flipping through channels the other night and happened upon an episode of The Suite Life of Zack and Cody, which is one of my daughter's favorite shows. It makes Full House look like The West Wing.
In the five seconds I was looking, I gathered the boys got themselves a job in a Colonial times themed grocery store. Everyone was wearing 3-corner hats and vests with buttons. It was either Colonial times or Adam and the Ants themed, and no one was wearing a lot of eye make-up, so...
They work for a fat manager guy. The only line I heard was the fat manager guy stating he had posted some thing or other to his blog.
If a pretend fat manager guy in a 3-corner hat on the Suite Life of Zack and Cody has a blog, I don't want one.