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Category Archives: Ludovicopolitana

Somewhere along the banks of the Ohio I lost my work badge this morning while doing cardio. I do not know where may have happened. There’s a $10 replacement fee.

I was getting in the shower at the gym when I realized I’d forget my soap, so I headed back to my locker to get it. going back to the shower where I’d left my towel, I slipped and fell right at a guy’s feet. “Good lord Jack, are you okay? Do you need help?” Just my pride was hurt badly though I skinned my knee and scraped my elbow.

While getting my pic snapped for the new badge, I managed to tear my pants – got them caught on the arm rest.

I leave my sweaty clothes in my locker and pick them up later in the day. This afternoon, I forgot that I’d taken my rucksac upstairs, so I folded my shorts, socks and bandana into my t-shirt and just carried them through two buildings back to my cube.

On a more positive note, the corporate photographer snapped some shots of me at the LGBT NRG booth. Conversation is worth a lot sometimes. I don’t know if they’ll get published or not.

And when I got home, my KitchenAid Artisan mixer was waiting! Oh what to make first.

I was in the grocery last night, and I thought I’d get a jump on my Thanksgiving shopping. For great and sundry reasons, I don’t cook typical Thanksgiving day meals. This year I’m doing a lasagna bolognese, but I digress.

I know All Hallows was a couple of weeks ago — I had a four day weekend! But I’m used to seeing the Halloween candy linger at 75% off in mid-November. This year, that’s not happening. Nope. I didn’t see as much as a stray Mary Jane — unless you count the guy with the doobie behind his ear.

Apparently, the Black November is extending right into my local (read huge chain) grocery store. That’s right. There’s an inflatable Snoopy flying his Sopwith Camel doghouse, cards, candy, assorted trinkets…. Okay, I didn’t venture down the aisle and can’t provide an epic catalogue. Yes, I could fake one, but I won’t.

My thing is that I’m a little confused. A grocery store will also be the logical place for folks to grab all the necessities for their Thanksgiving Day feasts. Why not put up turkeys and pilgrims? You can get the jump on Christmas cooking with the fixin’s for fruitcakes. I didn’t see that display, so I’ll have to check it out. I do typically make a fruitcake. So, I’m guessing that well before Twelfth Night, I can buy a heart of chocolate.

*From “Macy’s Day Parade” Green Day.

I’ve been working on how to say this consicely and poetically. With a little help from a friend, I think I’ve got it down.

Buy me a meal, and I’ll know you’re interested.
Cook for me, and I’ll know you’re serious.
Cook with me, and you’ll win my heart.

At times I go through phases where I just don’t want to go anywhere on Saturdays. I want to stay home and nest. Of late, that (fortunately) has not been the case. I have these very full Saturdays that make me want to have two bites at the same cherry.

Pandora Productions’ staging of Pageant was wonderful. Miss Industrial Northeast won the Saturday matinée. Perhaps she wins every performance now that I think of it. You know it would just be beyond the pale for a fake beauty pageant to be rigged, but it would have behooved me to check the math and make sure it was on the up and up. And I think I’m officially a fan of Kiel Dodd. I had no clue who he was when I saw him as Rocky in Pandora’s staging of The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Now, I want to see him in plays where he has speaking lines. He’s welcome to leave the shirt off all the time. Hey, I’m a middle-aged Bear. I’m not dead.

My plans were  get a pint or two at the BBC in Theatre Square then come home to have Chinese take-away and watch movies. Well, as I walked past the Sicilian place on 4th the unshakable craving for a pizza struck me. Fortunately, the BBC sells personal sized pizzas. It was my first experience with one of their pies. It was good. It won’t be my last. I sat, read about the candidates for office in LEO, and chatted away via text. It was a pretty good time. The winds were blowing like a storm was nigh. And I managed to lose a flip-flop under the bar stool — okay so I was able to recover it. I liked the Strong Ale so much that I actually bought a growler of it. I know.

At home was The Maltese Falcon – the one with Bogey this time, and I spent some serious time on the deck just watching the breezes blow the flags and banners. It was one of the most peaceful and tranquil things I cold have done. 

Before going to bed, I did renew my subscription for the 2010 – 2011 Pandora Productions season.

A couple of months back, I got the Welsh Dragon put on my chest. Well, it’s time to go in for the touch up work that I need. It’s not much — just enough to keep it from looking its absolute best. So on the morrow I’m headed up to the Highland of Louisville and to my favorite tattoo parlor. If I’m lucky, the Artist will be able to do the work tomorrow. Otherwise, I’ll be making an appointment.

In other news of the ink, I need to see about getting the pin-up on my right hip — and thinking about what tattoo would be best to commemorate the end of the world in 2012. I make a lot of fun of the theory that we’re doomed on some date in December 2012, but what if it’s real? Well, at least I’ll have a tattoo for the occasion. How many people can say that?

Laisses les bon temps rouler!

And have a dance for me at the family reunion.

There are a lot of things I could complain about were I so inclined, but I’m not. It’s actually been a good day. Great Weather. Sunshine. That whole thing with the Twink. Hell, even the burger I had for lunch was done nicely. So I was sitting at my desk playing with my soul patch and reading through an e-mail when I decided it was time. I wasn’t working late as I’d planned. Nope I needed something to set the evening right– tonsorial treatment. At the eight and skate mark, I was out the door doing everything but hollering “Yabadabadoo!” In less than five minutes, I was walking through the door of the barbershop and in five and a half, I was in the barber’s chair.

It was all I could do to keep from going to sleep, and when he laid the chair back and applied the hot cloths, I was close to Amida’s Pure Heaven – and I was even going to have to head west to get home. There’s a certain luxury available in a barber shop of the right caliber. I noticed that since I was last in, they’ve added one more but of finery — a shoe shine chair. Hot Damn! Now if they’d offer table massages, I might have to live in the place full-time. Okay, back to reality. I’d have to leave for liquor and food, but there’s a bar in the adjacent building. And there’s a pub going in across the street on Whisky Row. It probably won’t replace my favorite third places, but it’s nice to have something new in the neighborhood.

So, I’m home. Had a nice bumblebee stew washed down with a Stone IPA for supper. It’s been a pretty good day after all. Now, I really need to donate some money for the Hatii Earthquake. I’ll give, like I always give, through the UUSC.

Okay, the Wetterdudes have been calling for a big snow. It began in the Downtown area today about 0500. I headed out to the gym while the first snow storm of the season was taking shape. The workout was nice. The shower was hot, and I was dressed in my tweeds, sitting at my desk, looking out into the morning before the weather turned terribly bad. I’m always amazed by the people who, during a snow storm, point out that there are slick spots on the road. These are the same folks who point out that it’s cold — in January, and really hot  outside during the Dog Days of August. Ya think?

 I’m not sure that it truly turned terribly bad at all. No the streets aren’t well cleared — no mach 90 speeds for most folks, but it’s not like it’s impassible. So I worked the full day and left on time. I needed to take care of some stuff, and I really wanted to cook a hearty supper. Tonight the menu was shrimp and grits. It’s a fairly quick meal to cook, hearty, and I really wanted something to spice up a cold, snowy day. It succeeded.

 My usual wake time is prior to the cancellation (almost never happens) or delay (rare but possible) decision. I’ll check before I leave for the gym. If we’re on schedule, I’ll be on the cardio mill while most people are still waking up. If we’re delayed, I’ll shower, dress and nap until time to head in to earn my keep.

I decided to use the Honours of Scotland instead of the Saltire for St. Andrew’s Day this year. I wanted something a little different. It’s a bank holiday (in Edinburg if not Ludovicopolitana). I’m not sure how I’ll celebrate — something quite and sedate I’m sure. I’m really not celebrating the Christian martyr; there’s something magic about this time of year. I’ve not been able to put my finger on it, but since childhood I’ve loved the period between St. Andrew’s Day and Imbolc. Traditionally, the harvest is done, and we’re in for the long, dark, cold winter. That’s the part that I like. It’s a time for hearth and home, but it’s also a time of inner speculation and self-renewal.

And the new year that began a month ago (2763 if you’re keeping track by Jack’s Calendar) may be the one in which the True LilyPrince finally makes himself known.   Well, St. Andrew’s Night is the time to divine one’s true love after all. ; )=

With the coming of the Season, there will be more talk of Winter traditions — and ice in the North I’m sure. For now, I bid you, Pax.

 

I’ve made the mistake and learned from it. Never will I become emotionally entangled with a man who orders well drinks, doesn’t eat grits, and to whom the “Wife of Bath’s Tale” is foreign. RACK had better be the adjective before sub, and he can’t have margarine in the house.

Okay, so I’m back to being completely picky — wanting my custom fit in an off-the-rack world. Well, there’s nothing wrong with that. In a run of the mill fuck puppet, I don’t care. He’s just got to appeal to me for a short time, but a true sub has to have so much more.

Any oaf can order a martini, but it takes a man of taste to know that a Tanqueray dirty is something far removed from a Citadelle (clean).  Keep them seperate, Babycakes, or they’ll start fighting. And oddly enough there’s not room for vermouth in either of them.

And to get things completely, er, straight, you have to know more than Wolves are much cooler than ‘Pires. You need to be able to talk about why. Be a complete slut in my bed and an ice prince in public. Yep, Jack’s a man on a mission again. Look out.

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