Friday
Saw the P-bruins lose, and saw one of the boards crash down on a lady’s head. Also got to read the mad libs that the Mom sitting next to me took away from her 4th grade kid because he played it like everyone plays it: using words like dick and sexy. The whole family had Bruins shirts on.

Saturday
Played 2 games competitively all day, Bookworm and Big Money and showered just in time to go to dinner with a good friend of mine at Gio Mate’s. I didn’t know, but Gio Mate is Italian for “dog shit.”

Sunday
Got up early, had breakfast at Percy’s Place where I recognized a trashy looking girl. Unfortunately, there was no way that I could place where I might know the girl from, and was forced to admit that she may indeed be a stripper. I then spent 5 hours at the Raynham Flea Market where I bought 3 CDs (Sir Mix A Lot, Sublime, and A Lounge album that had a fuzzy leopard cover), 10 albums (Della Reese, the best of Earth Wind And Fire Vol. I, Van Halen I, Commodores greatest hits, Stevie Wonder’s Talking Book, Ennio Morricone’s A Fistfull of Dollars Soundtrack, Bing Crosby’s Merry Christmas, Ferrante &amp Teicher’s Pianos in Paradise, and Lionel Hampton’s Golden Vibes), a John MacCormack 1 sided opera 78 for my aunt, and a Loretta Lynn Christmas album for a friend.

Spent $30, and didn’t get the 13″ TV that I went in for. It was a typical flea market day. Did I mention that I don’t even own a record player anymore?

Monday
Dropped off a ton of documentation to the lawyer, and wrote a status report all day long. I did notice a usually good natured coworker with an unusually distraught look on her face. When I asked her if she was ok, she said that the war was really getting to her. I understand what she means.

Things happen in our name that we want no part of, and have no power to stop.

I try to stay away from it because it really gets me down, too, and no matter how much I watch, I can’t help. It’s way outside my sphere of control. If you watch any TV or listen to any radio, though, you can’t get away. Even if you manage to shut it out, the fucking idiots you sit near may spout off about killing people on a daily basis, dragging you right back in.

“If I was in chahge, I’d fuckin’ line ‘em all up and put a bullet in them all. No moah chances. No moah bullshit. I’d just kill ‘em all.”

1. That’s why you’re not in charge.
2. It’s really easy to spout off while watching a war on TV, while sipping coffee from the comforts of your desk. Talk is cheap. You believe in this war so much, then sign the fuck up. Fuck your kids and your wife. Sign up and make some sacrifices, if you’re that into it. Otherwise, shut the fuck up and allow me to work without your tired rhetoric.
3. I’m going to go out on a limb and say that these people have seen more death than you can imagine from your tiny cube. War torn areas breed tough people. Death in the U.S. breeds therapy. In other countries, it’s a fact of life. I’m sure that even a basically trained Iraqi soldier wouldn’t have much trouble overtaking a middle aged American computer guy.

It’s amazing to me how little the war hawks actually think, how much of their argument is just bullying, how much they ask, and how little they give. Oy. I’m going to listen to some jazz…

Posted in Food, Happy, Work