Waitress? Bitchress, really, is what'd I'd call you.

That's what I said last night to this bitch waitress who saw that I had my leg resting on a stool and goes "Hey feet off the furniture, Mister, this isn't your house!" I wish. I just took my leg off, drank my beer and paid for it and left. I wish I'd said something to make her feel as bad as I did. Then stood up and left without paying. And if I saw the manager on the way out, told him he'd better teach his waitress some manners. I can't wait until all the idiots in Klaipeda get run outta business by better managers and more polite waitresses. Isn't that what the EU's all about? Hurry up already!

I can't believe this!

This blog is the number 10 hit for "pumpkin sized boobs!" How do you like that?

P.S. i'm glad that people looking for information on "big fuckin inner tube" can find it here!

That Table Tennis for Two Hours

It's called Beirut, really, or more commonly Beer Pong, and in Boston Bee' Pong. In Lithuanian it's called That Table Tennis (Tas Stalo Tenisas). And in Lithuania you have to play with a normal table because I don't have a ping pong table, so you have to stand a meter (a yard) away from the table to even out the throwing distances. And you have to toss beer caps instead of ping pong balls, cause somebody mishandled my balls. That makes bounce shots practically impossible. Anyway, imagine playing that with a kid running around trying to get in on the action! Well you couldn't even move the table into place probably without someone getting hurt. So we never played till this weekend, while my special baby was visiting her special grama. My special lady won the first round, apparently cause I was malnourished; I say this because after a home made kugelis break, I totally beat her in round two. I'm not sure if I beat her at eating kugelis, we both rocked the crap outta that kugelis.

Other highlights of a party weekend include doing stuff all day without naptime 12-3, the beach, jewlry shopping, other kinds of shopping, foxy boxing, backgammon, going to church, and daylight saving time ending or starting, I don't know which. The crappy one when you lose an hour of sleep. Lokys has a great idea for day light savings which I'm heartily for: move the clock back both times, so you always gain an hour. This sounds one sided, but you can make up for that by skipping a day (how about a Monday?) every twelve years. Then we come out even even though we get two extra hours of sleep each year and one shortenend week each dozen years. It's win-win baby!

Rummage through your own trash before some bum does...

...cause he'll be the king of the bums once he's got your watch on!

It's not a Rolex, but my special lady got me a pretty awesome watch for my birthday. It makes me feel like much more of an adult to check the time on my wrist than on my cell phone.

My special lady insists I don't wear it in the kitchen where I'm elbow deep in batter, usually, so the watch spends most home time on the shelf. Or on the dresser. Or on the nightstand. Or hanging from the towel peg. It hasn't quite settled down with its permanent abode, like the Amish. It has a few drinks and spends the night wherever.

And because it's not routine, I forgot to put it on last Friday, and didn't go home before leaving town for the long weekend. Upon returning I forgot to wear it again Tuesday and by the time I looked for it Wednesday it was nowhere to be found. One of the first things I looked through was the trash next to the dresser. But o oh, my special lady took the trash out already. That is, she took the trash out of the bedroom to the kitchen, beyond that it's my job to take it out. We found my watch in the trash. Hooray!

The moral of the story is, men should take out the trash, and women should do the cleaning. The other moral is, make sure no bums find your valuables.

Welcome to Octopus Thought Activated Drinking Game with Something Something

Great game. Don't know where it came from, cause I can't find it online. I think one of the youngins brought it over, Sim or Ginty or A.j. or Alvy. I only remember playing this game once several years ago, though the memory might be a blur of several times if I was always seated on the same super spot of the same cool couch playing with the same particular people at 60 Eggmont St. I been waiting, over the last few months, for a chance to pull it out again, cause we play far too much asshole and kings, but you can't just pull it out anytime, cause you gotta have a bunch of people, and they gotta be in a giggly mood. And Beirut is a hassle in a country with no 30 packs.

I explained the game to Gedas and Juste, Donkus and Egle, and my special lady. The reaction was typical: oh what a simple game, who could ever make a mistake?! And the game play was typical: it took us probably twenty tries or more to count to twenty, which we only managed once. And by the end of the game two people had passed out. And several of the rules had to be explained again and again. Well, all the rules, since there's only like three of them. Here they are:

1. Everybody sits in a circle and counts off to twenty, one persona at a time, starting at one, and continuing on to another person in the direction indicated by the person touching one of his shoulders.
2. On 8 and 16 you say "octopus" instead of the number and touch both shoulders; on 8 the top arm indicates the counting direction, on 16 the bottom arm.
3. Following 10 and 20 count off follows, just once each to 11 or 21, in the opposite direction of that indicated.
4. If/when the group successfully gets to 21, everybody wins, and the person who got to 21 makes a rule to make the game harder.

That's probably clear to anyone who's played octopus, and completely not understandable if you haven't. Well, that's your problem, you should have played it before reading this post. It was a hilarious game; I'm thrilled that I remembered it. Anybody else remember Octopus?

Dragon Burp

This has only happened twice in my life. Once, as a youth, it scared the crap outta me. This morning it just made me laugh for a second before I dryheaved. What happens is you swallow a capsule of medicine, and after the lining has ruptured but before the powder has soaked up you burp, and a cloud of medicine dust comes out of your mouth that looks like smoke or mist. I saw it from two angles this time, since I was standing in front of the mirror. That ever happen to you?

It makes you realize why they put the medicine in those capsules: that medicine tastes like crap, especially when the whole inside of your mouth is doused with it.