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Sunday, December 04, 2005
Who Are You and What Am I Doing? Here?

            Today is a not so special day. A do nothing day. Trouble is, doing nothing seems almost like work, and I'm doing LOTS of nothing.  I need a break from doing stuff and not doing stuff.   I don't know which is more tiring; something or nothing. I don't need a vacation type of break because that involves doing stuff and not doing stuff all at the same time. And WHO really needs that.
 
            If anyone has an original concept on how to take a break from doing nothing and from doing something, please feel free to clue me in.  I really need a break.  But then I stay broke so..., that makes for another whole sordid situation. I just stay in these koinkidinks.
 
TracFone Update:
            I got my first caller yesterday! YES I DID! It was the first OFFICIAL received call on my Emergency Use TracFone. Prior calls were just testing and setting up voice smell and all that thus did not count.  I rushed to the TracFone, pondering, wondering, considering.
            Could it be GeeDubya needing advice on the Middle East? Could it be, some movie starlet needing me to attend some social event as her date?  Or perhaps it was a damsel in distress? And if so - how did they get my number?   But no - it was a mis-dialed number, that COSTED ME A WHOLE MINUTE!  Yes I'm that petty, Tom.  Why, oh why, do they charge the callee when it's the caller making the call? Okay, yeah so the MaBell Clones can get rich, I know.  Never mind.

Posted at 01:18 pm - Scribbled out by Daveman the Cool
<--(4) Pleading Hostages -->  


Saturday, December 03, 2005
Everybody In The Whole Cell Block...

I have a confession to make. Anyone recall an entry I made once upon a time about ME not giving up on Tether variety of phone - rejecting with all due prejudice those cursed CELL PHONES!?
 
Well - Having some mid-road crises and finding no phone nearby has an impact on one.  So luckily TracFone (pay as you go mobile phones) lowered the price on their cheapest phones to a scant $19.99.  Just buy time cards and I'm good to go without being in debt to Ma Bell or the Baby Bells.   I must say, my new Nokia 1100, while lacking color screen or other superfab bells and whistles, will serve my Emergency Needs.
 
I am still apprehensive about irradiating my brains by holding a miniature microwave generator to my cranium, but I assure you its just for emergencies and little else.  Who knows - maybe becoming a walking Nite Light will keep me from bumping into things in the dark, eh?
 
I STILL HATE CELL PHONES - but it looks like a necessary evil just like, Money, Cars and This Blog. Whew! I feel better for having gotten that off my chest.  Oh shush yo mouf!!! Like you don't cave-in once in a while.

Posted at 08:59 am - Scribbled out by Daveman the Cool
<--(7) Pleading Hostages -->  


Friday, December 02, 2005
Follow Up on; An American Graffiti Christmas

This is a follow up on my last entry...., "What ever happened to..."
 
Mac the original Mall Santa:
Passed the Santa mantel to his offspring who will no doubt continue this tradition until somebody wises up and alters that family history.
 
The Mall Security Officer:
He moved on with his life and become a successful Janitor's Aid, winning several awards including the coveted, "Drained Man Award"
 
Santa's Elfettes:
Sheila and Amanda, run their own Chicken Ranch in Nevada. Who knew?
 
The Boy Who Wanted an Arsenal:
Joined the military and ended up in Leavenworth for kicking a bearded General who reminded him of Santa from so many years ago.
 
The Cheerleaders:
Graduated College with honors, went their separate ways.  All attained degrees in Psychology, Etymology and Biology and in sheer coincidence, all ended up working as McDonald's fry cooks.  But they are at least educated fry cooks.
 
"Santa's Face Is Bald", Boy:
Manages one of Americas biggest Malls and sees to it Mall Santa's have real beards.  Spending five years in a mental hospital seemed to help the lad work through his trauma.
 
Thug With A Gun:
Today that young man is a leading politician, obviously never having changed for the better at all.

Posted at 10:20 am - Scribbled out by Daveman the Cool
<--(3) Pleading Hostages -->  


Thursday, December 01, 2005
An American Graffiti Christmas

It was one long night of misadventure and a very true account of the one episode in the life and times of Daveman.  Call this a confession because I no longer do the Santa Clause thang.   I'll cover my "complex" views of Christmas either in the next post or in one just prior to Christmas eve.  Now I present to you.....
 
---------- P A R T --- ONE ----------
 
            Back when I was a young man of around 21, maybe 22 I worked at the Mall taking care of the island greens, fixing the power mowers, striping the parking areas and even setting up and assembling the Mall's interior decorations (Santa's North Pole and Train Rides), things like that. It was during December one cold and blustery day with the night time closing in fast and not a single Mall Santa could be found! The main Santa phoned in sick, and not one of the six or so backup Santas could be located.
            The Mall Santa Service (a separate independent business from the Mall itself), started bugging all the Mall employees and no one wanted the job. We already heard the horror stories from Mac, the main Mall Santa.  I guess I had "sucker" written all over my face because they latched onto me, begging and pleading. "Just for one night" they promised.
            There were three problems; #1 - They Had to Clear it with my Bosses. I'd also be off the clock and not making my usual $8/hour.  #2 - Money! I was not about to endure being peed on, having kids hit me, insult me and do worse for schtinking Mall Santa minimum wages.  #3 - I wanted a date with one of the Santa's Helper Elfettes who made my mouth water. Turned out she was married so I had to forget that one. Homeboy just don't mess wit married womens.
 
---------- P A R T --- T W O ----------
 
            The negotiations were tough - the Mall Santa Service said they couldn't afford my required $15/hour.  In stepped my "almost" buddy, the head of Mall Security who acted on my behalf.  He brokered the deal and I ended up with $11/hour, a PAID 30 minute break every hour because the Fat Suits are hot.  We had them were we wanted them because they couldn't get another Santa so late in day. We had a deal.  [Fat Suit, was really just stuffed with pillows and cotton bat fillers]
            While there were some pleasant moments - the bad ones were bad. I was indeed peed on, had my beard pulled, had to answer why I did not remember what they wanted for Christmas "Santa! I wrote you already. You know what I want!" and then there were the kickers and screamers but Santa's elfettes should learn to shut up - and not tell Missus Clause. AHEM.., ( i wasn't married - a joke folks).
            The main perk was when the Mall Security escorted me back to the Santa's North Pole for to see the kiddies after break.., I heard some young womens scream out.., "HEY SANTA!". I turned around on the escalator when this beautiful Cheerleader had bounded up the moving steps smooched me on the mouth and ran away.
            "WAIT! SANTA DIDN'T GIVE YOU HIS PRESENT YET!" I billowed - and was nudged in the ribs by  the security officer who reminded me about the children watching Santa. "CANDY! I HAVE CANDY...FOR YOU"  came my attempt at a quick save.  The rest of the Cheerleader Squad laughed and made a quick cheer for Satan Nick.., I mean, Saint Nick.   Yes - Its true. I was once a sexy Santa Clause - my shame is now known to all.
 
            Almost to Santa's North Pole a child started walking my way and wanted a hug. As I leaned down to give the lad his hug, my beard fell off.  This poor child (perhaps six years old) screamed in horror.., "MOMMY! SANTA's FACE IS BALD!". This kid was in absolute shock.., I'm serious. No doubt he required intensive psychological therapy after that.
            Back in Satan's Lair.., I mean.., Uhm.., Santa's North Pole they kids were unleashed again. One young man wanted REAL hand grenades, machine guns, tanks..., and was upset with answer.. "Santa only deals in toys" and I got kicked. One woman slapped two newborn twins in my lap for a picture - and in a Fat Suit.., the babies were slipping.., I kept telling the woman and she insisted I hold still for her eternity of blinding flash shots. Finally one of the cute Elfettes came to the rescue just before the one infant slid off. WHEW! ........next up.... the thug ....
 
---------- P A R T --- T H R E E ----------
 
            Then this thug was walking closely to the Cashbox.., Santa's elfette tried to call security on the two-way but no one answered so she made some crude hand signs to clue me in. As this fellow edged closer to the box - I stood up walked over to the man. A reasonably tall Santa with a pithed off glaze in his eyes descending his direction sent the fellow on the run without a word said and fortunately without a violent scene.
            Later I found out this same thug stole some liquor from the liquor store in the Mall. And he had a GUN!? That was a concerning thought.  Anyway - a Santa's job is NOT an easy one despite whatever perks are offered. I should have held out for $15 an hour.  That one night turned into an adventuresome bizarre American Graffiti moment. It seemed to go on for a lifetime.  Come 10:pm I was glad to get out of that hot suit and back into my civvies. Never more, Lenore, never more!

Sorry folks - while I tried to hang onto my picture of me as Santa with his elfettes it was lost somewhere over the time.  No big loss I guess.
--------- Coming Up - My Grinchness on Xmas

Posted at 08:40 am - Scribbled out by Daveman the Cool
<--(5) Pleading Hostages -->  


Tuesday, November 29, 2005
The Heart Break Kid Returns

The Heart Break Kid Returns            The Heart Break Kid, came to visit me today - and yep, he dragged his mom and dad along with as usual. It was good to see the grandson again. In fact it was an outright joy.., he also wore me out trying to keep his grubby little paws off of all kinds of interesting breakables and lets not even discuss the pet toys he wanted to thrust into his slobbery little mouth.
 
            HBK, (Heart Break Kid) tried to impress me with his articulate use of "lullullullullull" and "Bluh Bluh Bluh" as well as his impression of an outboard motor..."ptptptptptpptptpt".   Imagine my surprise when they were about to leave as I tried in vain to get him to wave "bye-bye" - actually said.., "Bye Bye".  I guess he figured he wasn't about to mess with that worn out waving bye gag, when he could just cut to the chase.  Brilliance! Sheer brilliance!
            Yeah, it was nice to visit with Daughter and SonInLaw too.., but they just couldn't get the,  "lullullullullull" and "Bluh Bluh Bluh" as well as his impression of an outboard motor... "ptptptptptpptptpt" stuff down as well as HBK.  Bless their hearts, at least they tried to communicate with me.
 
[FACTOID: HBK is holding a dog toy in this shot. Though the dog growled his discontent, HBK, held his ground.  There was unrest when he plunged the dog apparatus in his kisser before anyone could stop him. HBK has very fast reflexes]


Posted at 08:43 pm - Scribbled out by Daveman the Cool
<--(8) Pleading Hostages -->  


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