Tampa

A couple of Bucs fans in Largo, FL are seriously annoying their neighbors with the replica pirate ship and cannons they have in the front yard. The pirate ship, it seems, is just an eyesore. The neighbors are really mad about the cannon blasts after each touchdown though!

So. I’m driving home from Four Green Fields tonight and I stop to grab some donuts and beer. After 11 pm everything in Tampa closes, even on the weekends, so I have to go to the Shell down on Gandy and Dale Mabry. Guy I know there is behind the counter as usual and I see he’s looking at something he printed from a web page. “What’s that you’re reading there, Ellis?” “Oh it’s for my job. Here.” and he hands me a cassette and a business card. Some type of lawyer thing. “You’re on line?” I ask. “Oh yeah, I love the ‘net.” “Hey check out my page - davidgagne.net,” I say. Girl in line behind me says, “Hey! Check out my page!” and we all start talking. Nice people. Sometimes, I am just astonished at the things that happen on this planet. Nobody showed at FGF; but I met some nice people and I always have a good time singing shanties.

At some point last night I managed to fall from the railing at Four Green Fields. In the photo on the page, you can see an Irish flag all the way on the right side. That’s right where I fell.

Amazing but True!
I live only a few blocks from Skiff’s Sundae City.

in which he remembers something too late
Damn! I really meant to say something earlier. Like, last week earlier. It just completely slipped my mind. I wasn’t so worried about Michelle and Tricia and Jamee, but I really wanted to warn Ron and Jorge. This house was built in 1926. It’s old. Do not eat any of the paint in the guestroom! There’s traces of lead in it.

[click to continue...]

I was feeling sort of listless today. So I decided to make a list. Here’s what I’ve consumed today:

• one-half a packet of Planter’s “Fruit & Nut” snack mix
• one 9oz. bag of “Cooler Ranch Doritos”
• two cups of coffee with lots of fat-free milk
• three (maybe four) 20oz. bottles of water
• one 12oz. bottle of Coca-Cola
• one 12oz. bottle of Budweiser

There was a banana sitting on my desk for half the day. I was tempted several times. I didn’t eat it. It’ll be there tomorrow.

There’s still another beer in the fridge and I’ll probably drink that before I go to sleep tonight. I had a bag of “Pop Secret” microwave popcorn for dinner last night. What the hell? It’s not like I’m not hungry. I just haven’t felt like eating lately. Maybe this is some lingering effect of the cold that thwacked me this weekend. Whatever.

In other news: I ICQ-chatted with one of my best friends / my web host / my best best friend’s older brother for a bit last night. He seems to be doing well. I talked to my best best friend this morning on the telephone. He’ll be here next weekend for the Pearl Jam concert Saturday night. So will Ron and Michelle, and Paul and JenJen, and Tricia, David S., and a few others. It should be quite a party. We haven’t all raised hell together since the UF/FSU game last year. We are a volatile bunch. If you’re in Tampa next weekend make sure to steer clear. Either that or bring beer.

It’s times like this … when I’m sitting here and the world outside goes from bright and sunny to dark as night in an instant … when a terrible torrential Tampa tunderstorm erupts out of nowhere … when the lightning smacks so close that the sound and the fury are simultaneous … when I can actually see the raw power of Mother Nature … it’s times like this that I think I should buy a back-up power supply for Bud.

Billy was in the neighborhood IRL and stayed at Chez Gagne last night. He got here around noon and I had the place all ship-shape by then. I showed him the house and we chatted and did the techno equivalent of showing pictures from our wallets: we showed each other pictures from our computers. (Billy has a laptop.) We roamed around Tampa for a bit in his rented Sebring convertible; had a fabulous lunch/dinner at Shells. Sylvia and Billy and I went to see “What Lies Beneath” at the Hyde Park theater at night. (Decent movie; nothing to write home about.) Afterwards Billy and I sat on the front porch and he played my guitar a bit and we philosophized. It was was pretty cool.

Being sick sucks. Being home from work because you’re sick sucks. Being home from work when you are now getting paid by the hour sucks. Being home sick when you are getting paid by the hour and you are paying a plumber by the hour to fix your leaking fridge sucks. Being home sick when you are getting paid by the hour and you are paying a plumber by the hour to fix your leaking fridge which has caused the substructure of your kitchen to rot and get infested by termites sucks. Today? Much sucking. Somebody get me a nipple.

The guys from Burdine’s just delivered the couch and took away the chair. Doug, the thorough home inspector, will be here in a few hours to make sure the contractors fixed everything they were supposed to fix. I am going to take the digital cable box to Time-Warner, see if I can find a cell phone, and make it back here by noon. After the home (re)inspection I will be heading to St. Petersburg for several fun-filled hours of designing the HSND eCommerce site. Actually I’m only half-kidding about that; it should be pretty nifty. Oh, I’m sorry. Did I ask if you cared?

1. As I walked out of the HSN Cafeteria the other day, I was balancing several of those little soufflé cups filled with mustard, ketchup, and mayo on top of my plastic-boxed hamburger. There were two thirty-something women walking in front of me and they were going v e r y s l o w l y. They were both wearing white pants. As I tried to maneuver around them down the stairs, one of them reached into her purse to get a cigarette. All this happened in slow-motion, of course. I was … jostled. The soufflé cups were … jostled. They tumbled slowly towards the ground at my feet. I watched them spinning. I was dumbstruck and unable to move. My only thought: “Shit!” The women were staring at the soufflé cups as well. All three hit the ground and spewed red, yellow, and white in every direction. Miraculously, not a drop of condiment hit any of our clothes. I expect that in that instant I wasted every bit of good karma I have coming to me this year.
2. As I walked out of Tropicana Field with my friend Jay after the Devil Rays / Braves game Tuesday night, a twenty-something couple passed us and stopped. She was drunk. She was very drunk. He was not. She grabbed my arm. “I love this guy!” she exclaimed, meaning her partner. “I treat him like shit, but I love him!” “I’m sure you do,” I assured her. He gave me a look as if to say, “My apologies, sir. She gets like this sometimes.” Jay and I sort of laughed and continued on our way. She wouldn’t let go of my arm. “This guy,” pointing to him, “he puts up with all my sh*t! He followed me from Cleveland!” I laughed. “I know a few people from Cleveland. Nice place.” “I’m sorry, man,” he said. I gave him one of those “guy nods” to let him know I wasn’t upset or anything. “Well,” I said, “he must love you, too, eh?” She laughed. “You know what I’m gonna do for you, Brian?” she yelled. “When we get back to the car,” she bellowed in that timbre that you can only attain when really drunk, “I’m gonna … suck … your … COCK!” It was quite hysterical.

Today it has rained. Rain. Lots of rain. Biblical rain. Tampa, Fl? Very wet. Just thought you’d like to know. I slept. Lots of sleep. Biblical sleep. David V. Gagne? Very well rested.