i had one of those vivid dreams last night--the kind that you can't get rid of no matter how many times you wake up or subconciously try to change the subject:

NASA had decided to retire the beleaguered space shuttle program and revert back to the tried-and-true, 1960's vintage Saturn V/Apollo space program. the first launch went fine until nearly reaching orbit--some sort of malfunction caused the rocket's final stage and the service/command module to be stranded in a low-earth orbit.
it was all over the news, and people were praying and hoping like they did back in the '70's when Apollo 13 was nearly lost. NASA had lost contact with the astronauts and was desperately trying to save them. the cool thing was, you could see the ship in it's orbit at night in the sky (kinda like seeing the space station if you know where to look) and it looked pretty bad. i was watching it one night, and all the sudden i saw it flare up and disappear in a fiery decent into the atmosphere. it was gone. i knew the ship was lost. later on the news, NASA maintained it was still trying to regain radio contact with the ship. were they bullshitting the world, or what? were they really that clueless? was i the only one that saw it burn up in the atmosphere? it was then that i woke up.

it was a really creepy dream. the same feeling we all had when both shuttles blew up. like watching a school bus get hit by a freight train. yikes.

ok, readers, what's it mean? am i the only one in the world who knows what's going on? sounds good to me.
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i hate to be a bandwagon admirer, but britney spears has to be the world's most beautiful woman. without question. perfect perfect poifect! (couldn't find a pic from the toxic video--awww.)

i have post-nasal drip and a sore throat. it's making me coff. being sick sucks.

the result of dead time this morning: 1 hijacked kiddie cartoon from the Syracuse Post Standard + white out + 3 mutilated business cards + 1 bored car salesman = 1 cartoon only a salesman would find funny. it made it's way around the dealership with much fanfare.
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Grangela: i bet i can predict what you're writing in your blurf
Grangela: you're writing about work and complaining about it, and what you did this weekend, and how uneventful it was
bktscrambler: wrong
Grangela: yeah right
Grangela: liar
Grangela: then you're writing about your interesting fish that can jump through hoops and swim laps
Grangela: i mean there's not much more to choose from
bktscrambler: are you saying i have no life?
Grangela: hey you said it not me
Grangela: can you prove me wrong

nah, i guess i can't.
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today was pretty busy and stressful. between asshole customers and testy coworkers, i got a little buggered. but i did deliver a car and sold another (the runt of the litter, no less) so there will be some money coming in next week. but.. it feels like it's too little, too late. my credit cards scare me. it will take forever to pay them off, even if i get into the academy which pays 50k a year. it's definitely scary. and sooo frustrating. bringing home $170 a week with an ivy league diploma really blows. no luck with the latest resumes yet, either.
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at least i'm looking good, with my rembrandt 2-hour tooth whitener (a-freaking-mazing difference) and tan in a can (neutrogena instant bronze & sunless tanner.) no lectures, please--a little more credit debt to make me look dead sexy is okay.
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mark has been queer-eyed.* so have i. i've had the skills in my mind for years, but until Queer Eye was born, i've just never had the balls to put it all together in one package. i've never had the reassurance that my abilities at coordinating clothes and my optimal personal hygiene were queerworthy. but wait--i'm not that much of a metrosexual. and yes, i can still go home to the farm and slog around in the shit, work in the garage and get dirty, and burp and fart. i'm still a manly man. what can i say, i'm the best of both worlds. ladies, come get me. *burp* damn, i look good in these gap stress-free khakis--and this pink shirt. *fart*
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and now i'm a coffee drinker. i attribute this to the sheer boredom of standing around the showroom all day. the other factor is creamer. creamer is good. it transforms coffee from black piss to a pleasing, palatable, beige-colored drink. mmmm. i always assumed creamer was for limp-dicked, metrosexual types, and therefore, coffee was out of the question. my dad never uses creamer (which is my only other exposure to coffee--as a child), so i didn't consider trying it. but, i discovered how good it is one fateful morning while experimenting with the free coffee in the back of the showroom. it's so good i've burning my tongue on a daily basis in my gleeful eagerness to drink it. (how does the rest of the world avoid that?? it's so damn hot. no amount of sipping and blowing can save you when it first comes out of the pot.)

i would still feel insecure in a starbucks, though. i don't know to order that stuff. i'd get flustered and piss off the people waiting behind me.
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went to JP Mulligan's on saturday. sat on my ass and looked at pretty girls. with no wingman, i was not a threat. sheesh. at last call, guys were jumping on the last of the ladies like marines jumping on last chopper out of vietnam. i got left behind with the VC.

Grangela has me all figured out.

*i just coined that phrase. i take full credit for it. you'll see it in the next edition of webster's.

and today is St. Patrick's day.

i couldn't care less.

i wouldn't have even known if it wasn't for every person i see saying something about it. i don't see the draw to this holiday. i put it in the same category as Boxing Day (for you Canadians), columbus day, and earth day. not to say they aren't special, but it ain't like i circle those days on the calendar. the best holidays are july 4th, christmas, and memorial day. new years and st. pats are very overrated. maybe it's cuz i'm in a pissy mood cuz i have no one to go celebrate with on those days. or maybe it's the other way around; since i don't care to waste time and money in a bar drinking green beer or watching cheesy parades on TV, no one wants to celebrate with me.

i've been a little short on friends lately since i left my other job. see, that's the problem with having lots of friends. you never have enough time for all of them, so most of them end up in the "out of sight, out of mind" category. that's why i prefer a few, close, lifetime friends, because you can call them up out of the blue and pick up where you left off without any weirdness, even after not seeing them or talking for a while. try that with the buddies from work and they're probably gonna think, "what the hell is up with this guy? haven't talked to him for a month and all the sudden he wants to do something? talk about a f**kin' weirdo." --i hate that shit. thus, the friendships forged at eltaday onicsay have pretty much bit the dust, and the new job isn't lending itself to making friends. yeah, i know what you're saying...friends don't have to come from work. but...i dunno...alright, i admit it--i suck at making friends. it's cuz it's so hard to find someone thats worth a shit to hang out with. i'm picky. and i live alone, which makes it harder. and i still don't consider myself to be a true syracuse resident--i don't plan on being here much longer, so why bother? then again, i was saying that almost 2 years ago when i moved here. excuses, excuses...

enough pissing. i'm trying reeelly hard to not do that. thinking happy thawts...

and on the italian front: my unattainable and seemingly imaginary italian pen pal, silvia, is considering coming to the US for an english language course or two. YEE HA! after 10 years of letters, post cards, and emails, i might finally have a chance to meet her, and better yet, she would be here for more than just a vacation! she has assigned me some homework: i've been making calls to syracuse university and my alma mater, cornell, to inquire about their foreign language programs. this would be a dream come true to have her here. it's one of those odd situations where i consider her a close friend, but i've never met her and only spoken on the phone twice (thus, the imaginary feeling.) thru the culture differences and the language barrier, we've found so many similarities in life and often give each other advice on relationships & stuff. i can't wait to finally meet her. that's IF she comes...IF IF IF.

from the transportation department: my truck is falling apart again. this time, within a 24 hour span, the driver's seat belt latch and the inside driver's door handle broke. so not only did i have to hook the seat belt into the center latch, i also had to roll down the window to open the freaking door. the redneck factor was overwhelming, so i ratf*cked the passenger door and seat belt for parts, and in the process, left the passenger door panel off so there's wires & parts & holes & bare metal everywhere. at the moment, any passengers might want to consider alternative transportation, since, in the event of an accident, they would not have a seat belt, could not open the door, or roll down the window. (not that they could open the door anyway after having their body crumpled against the dashboard due to the lack of a seat belt.) this is in addition to the bald tires, eerie wheelhop over bumps, smell of burning oil, persistant engine sputter, and ferocious engine clatter on startup. oh, and gaping rust holes, dents, and peeling paint. quite a machine she is. quite a machine. but at least it isn't like my buddy ingram's buick, which, in his words, "rides like a drunken camel." (actually, now that i think about it, that doesn't sound half bad. must be nice & smooth.)

financial news: i'm broke. selling cars would be great if we had customers. i'm seriously considering another job, only cuz i can't live on bread and water any longer (and because i'm not a natural sleaze.) this month's bills are gonna be a bitch.

from the "she finally did it" department: the ex (and close friend) moved to maryland today. we all had a going away party last friday at dinosaur bbq, followed by Starsky & Hutch, which was better than expected. a year ago, seeing her on the arm of another man at the movies woulda made me puke with rage and jealousy, because it was so hard to keep in mind why we split. now, it's...different. it's surreal. and i'm ok with it. really. it's a relief to have that chapter of my life over with. being friends again is soo much easier, and that's what sucks about her leaving now--another friend has migrated. but it was great hanging out with old friends again, like bunnell, ingram, and becky. unfortunately, anne couldn't make it, and neither could hank and colleen--something about being in the hospital with their first child being born or something. like that's an excuse. (i'm kidding guys, congrats!!!)

what i've been listening to: just bought bob seger's greatest hits, vol. 2. ironically, he just made it into the rock & roll hall of fame. i had no idea he did "shakedown" from beverly hills cop. what a great song. i've been listening to it over and over, making up for not hearing it for like 15 years. i'm still going strong on the pepsi iTunes caps. iTunes is great for finding that stuff you like don't want to buy a whole album to get (such as C+C music factory, the fugees, and eye of the tiger by survivor.) geez, it's like middle school all over again in my apartment! "EVERYBODY DANCE, NOW!" "I'm just a squirrel, tryin to get a nut so move your butt" --ok, that's enough.

sorry for the lack of blarf lately. it's been hectic over my way. and every minute i sit in front of the computer is another minute not spent out in the world, having a life to blarf about.

I gotta be more like Bug.

yeah, Bug.

Bug the goat.

oh, and like Terry. Terry the upholstery repair guy.

lemmie explain.

Bug, as you may remember from an older post, is the goat who is spending the winter on the farm with my family. ("Bug" is an acronym for Big Ugly Goat.) he runs loose around the barn, amongst the heifers, 20 barn cats, a couple of AFLAC ducks, and a 500 lb. turkey. he's the coolest goat i've ever seen. he greets you at the door with a goat-like grin, follows you around like a dog, and begs to be scratched behind the horns. i bet he'd even fetch a tennis ball if you had one. he does it all without saying a solitary word, bleat, or sound, which just adds to his charm.

but the coolest thing about Bug is he makes do with what he's got, and he's happy.

look what he's up against--he's in between homes right now. he lives with cats and ducks. he sleeps next to cow poop. the turkey hates him for no reason. he eats tin cans.* but still, thru it all, he gallops around like a frisky horse, loves attention, and has that infectious, glowing, goat grin. he doesn't let shit get him down (no pun intended.--ed.)

and just like those great people you meet in life, they come into your world, influence you, and are gone before you know it, on to the next adventure of their wild and crazy lives.

this is the same story as with terry the upholstery guy. i met him the other day at work. he makes interior repairs on used vehicles on the dealer lots of central new york. i took interest in what he was doing one day and he was more than happy to let me watch him work. (i didn't expect to get his life story, but when you fix cigarette burns for a living, you'd better spill your guts when someone shows interest.) turns out he is a retired engineer who at one time was given triple salary to move to hawaii (gee, tuff decision!) he has been everywhere, done it all, loved it, found the perfect wife who is his best friend, has a happy kid, and has friends all over the country and wouldn't hesitate to fly out at a moment's notice to play a game of touch football with his buddies in washington state. each explosively enthusiastic statement included my name and "man" (example: "ben, man, you should really join the air force, man, the stuff they do and the jets they fly, man, those are some amazing planes, man! ben, you're young, you're 26, have a four year degree, man, ben, you can do so much, do this, do that man, go here, travel there, ben, man....") he was incredibly encouraging without being overbearing and wacky. he did like the state trooper idea, so i must be doing something right. talking with the happiest SOB alive (as i like to think of him) has made me think even more about what i should do with my life if i don't get into the police academy. i've been telling myself for over a year now that i should go join a NASCAR team if i don't get in. or go work at the mecca of old jeeps, Collins Bros. Jeep in Texas. or fly to the moon in search of cheese. whatever.

there is a part of me like terry. i want to do things. i want to go places. i want to infect people with my happy-assed personality. i want to consider options and opportunities as they happen instead of making judgmental decisions in advance. i want the world to be just a little bit smaller so i can be everywhere a little more easily.

but then there's the dominant side of me that likes the idea of living on a beat-up little farm in northern new york. i want to be around my family. i like my honky little hometown, even though it is lacking as much in culture as it is in promise. i want my future children to go to a small school where they are a name rather than a number. i want to have a huge garage, a black lab, hayfields, and cattle. and i want to have a log cabin on the edge of the woods. but how can i have those things if i want to move out and experience the land of opportunity (read: anywhere BUT northern NY)?

as a compromise, i have pledged to be more like Bug and Terry. piss less. moan less. say something positive instead of realistic (gasp!)--just try to be more fun to be around. i know i can be funny...but how about funny in a positive way, instead of in a wry, "life-sucks-but-in-a-funny-way" kinda way? i can, and will, leave all avenues open. someday, when i have money and vacation time, i will definitely travel around this great country. i will someday soon go to italy and meet that girl i've been writing letters to for 10 years. i will take a scrambler trip to the florida keys and then to the grand canyon. i will have fun, dammit, and still have my log cabin on the edge of the woods.

who woulda thought a goat and an upholstery guy could have this kind of an effect on me? maybe it wasn't just them... maybe they were just a catalyst for me to make a few more realizations. whatever the case, i'm glad i ran into both of them.


*contrary to popular belief, goats do not eat tin cans. if given the opportunity, a goat may peel and eat the tin can label, which led to the urban myth (rural myth?) that goats eat cans. goat this, goat that, goats goats goats! if you say "goat" enough times in your head it starts to lose meaning...try it...goat goat goat...goat cheese, goat milk, goatees, goats goats goats. type "goat" into google and see what comes up! the blarf! whuh ha ha! what power. vive la goat! leave comments! (goat references not necessary.)

for those of you who have read the blarf in the last 24 hours, read this post again.. it's had a tune-up.


maybe some Enzyte would liven things up a bit for me.

scrambler (10:22:40 PM): hey, do me a favor and go out to a bar...
scrambler (10:22:50 PM): cus thats where im headed and i dont want to be the only lone dude going out
marmar (10:22:59 PM): i just came from one
marmar (10:24:10 PM): no i've got to go to sleep since i have to have my ass up in before the crack of dawn
marmar (10:25:51 PM): well enjoy the night out, mine sucked donkey balls dipped in goat piss
scrambler (10:26:45 PM): haha
scrambler (10:26:56 PM): hopefully mine wont be that bad but i doubt it
scrambler (10:30:56 PM): oh well.. out i go
scrambler (10:31:01 PM): talk to you later
marmar (10:31:05 PM): ok, good luck
scrambler (10:31:08 PM): thanks
marmar (10:31:08 PM): later
scrambler (10:31:09 PM): night
marmar signed off at 10:31:22 PM.

my saturday night out was a bust. bought some drinks for 2 chicks and then they went to hang out with...their boyfriends. ran into the old supervisor from eltaday onicsay--he pissed & moaned about work; i sympathized. and i thank my lucky stars that i got out of that job before the great weather kicked in and the place got swamped. perfect time for a manager to leave! yay! i haven't missed the place at all.

speaking of great weather--it's been sunny for weeks now. march is upon us. it's gotten up in the 50's the last few days. ice is melting. the grass will be green soon. mangled shopping carts are poking out of the receding parking lot snowbanks. ah, the beauty of springtime.

i've got some kind of nastiness running rampant in the fish tank--three more fish-talities in as many days, so i got the equivilent of fish cough syrup at petco. while there, 2 of the cashiers told me that my admiring cashier talks about me obsessively. really--you know, that makes no sense whatsoever. i called her twice, and got no response. and she still talks about me at work? i give up.



gotta run--it's time for "Modern Marvels: History of Concrete" on the history channel. and better yet, "Most Extreme Elimination Challenge" on SPIKE TV. "what's "f*ckin' a" mean? it means "indeed" in New Jersian." or "these guys are axe murderers and granny shaggers!" this show kills me. there's nothing like a bunch of japanese people getting pummelled by styrofoam boulders and high-speed volleyballs with hilarious english overdubs. (it's not racist at all, just watch the show!) this was the funniest episode i've seen yet. i'd buy it on video if i could. hell, i'd buy it on betamax, even.