I'm going to take a moment to recap a few movies that Katie and I saw over the weekend.
Continue reading "I've got the worst hangover from you..." »
I'm going to take a moment to recap a few movies that Katie and I saw over the weekend.
Continue reading "I've got the worst hangover from you..." »
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Today's Lyrical Challenge from Karl. The song is "Kiss Off" from the Violent Femmes.
Have you ever seen that episode of The Wonder Years where Kevin (Fred Savage) and his friends teepee their teacher? They did a number to his house. I can still remember the slow-motion sequence where they're practically dancing about in his yard tossing up roll after roll of toilet paper into his trees. When all was said and done, the teacher's house appeared as though it had suffered a mid-spring snowstorm. Everything was blanketed in pure white. It was a sight to behold.
As was my friend's house our senior year of high school.
There were a bunch of us who got together on a semi-regular basis to teepee the houses of people we knew. No one was safe from our wrath, except us. We would camp out in the backyard of one guy's house and plot everything out to perfection. We knew where to get the toilet paper, how we would transport everyone and everything, and exactly what route to use to escape. Oh, we had backup routes as well. I'm sure, if one of cars failed, we even had a backup plan for that. "Stormin'" Norman Schwarzkopf would've been proud.
One night, however, one of the regular crew, B, was unable to make it to one of our white-papered frenzies. I'm not exactly sure what he was doing, but he was out of town entirely.
We sat in the tents in my friend's backyard debating who we would hit that night. Then it came to us... B! He would pay for not being there to assist us.
The six of us headed out to the local Omni Supermarket as they were the only ones who sold toilet paper in bulk. We knew that people were watching us as we pulled that cardboard carton of approximately 80 rolls of toilet paper down from the shelf. They knew what the three of us were doing. But they couldn't prove it.
In case you're wondering what happened to the other three of us (yes, I did say "six" of us headed to Omni), I'll tell you. To avoid arousing too much suspicion, the remaining three of us went in for a second case of 80 rolls a few minutes after the first crew finished their purchase.
No, for this assault, 80 rolls would not nearly be enough. We were going all out, cost be damned.
On the drive over, we began to divvy up the rolls. Some of us carried duffel bags or backpacks full. The others carried them in their arms. We parked a couple streets away and traversed the unfenced yards to B's house (yes, we even knew which yards had no fences so as to make travel that much quicker).
Then we went to town.
After about five minutes, we noticed a car heading down the street.
We all immediately tore off to our predetermined hiding places in the neighborhood.
Continue reading "I hope you know that this will go down in your permanent record..." »
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Holy crap! I can't believe I forgot to do this yesterday! I am so sorry. It just completely slipped my mind.
Today's Lyrical Challenge from Rick. The song is "Nights in White Satin" from The Moody Blues.
My dearest Noelle,
We've had a rocky relationship at best. And it's time to put this animosity to rest.
I met you nearly two years ago when Katie and I first moved in to our new home. You were also relatively new to your home. You had just moved in with your roommate, Kathy, in the unit next to ours about a week prior.
You would think this might mean we'd get along famously. We had so much in common as it was. We were both first-time homeowners. We both moved in within a week of each other. We live right next door to each other. Hell, our townhouses share a common walk-up. Plus, we get along very well with each other's spouse/roommate. I get along with Kathy and you get along with Katie.
So why not us? Why do you hate me so?
Anytime I am near you, I feel nothing but pure hatred seep out of the very core of your being. You eye me as though I was the enemy. You back away anytime I'm near. All you do is whine and complain when I come by to see Kathy.
To be perfectly honest, I can hear you moan when I enter my own place with no intention of visiting you or Kathy whatsoever.
Many times, I have held out my hand in a gesture of peace. I try to be nice to you. I always talk nicely to you. I've never said a bad word whatsoever about you despite your obvious mistrust of me.
So why are you such a bitch? That's right, I did it. I called you the five-letter "B" word. A violent reaction? Perhaps. But, in nearly two years of living next door to each other and you burning every olive branch I extend, I think I'm in the right calling you by that name.
I'm really tired of how poorly you treat me.
I'm sick of the griping.
I'm sick of the evil eye.
I'm tired of looking out in my backyard only to see you looking back at me.
That's just creepy.
Stop.
What's it going to take?
Do I have to keep a flippin' MilkBone in my pocket to make you like me?
Stupid dog.
Your pissed-off neighbor,
Kevin
This is the third in a series of four lyrical challenge response posts. Today's post, suggested by Rick, was tied in third place with five votes. The remaining winner is:
I will complete Karl's challenge on Thursday, September 21, if I actually remember to do it this time.
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Today's Lyrical Challenge from rennratt. The song is "Fat Bottomed Girls" from Queen.
"I don't know what we're going to do if we move into a house where we actually have neighbors in back of us," Katie told me over the weekend.
"Huh? What do you mean? Why's that a big deal?" I asked.
"Well, I've just become so accustomed to not having anyone behind us and I enjoy keeping our shades open. But if we have neighbors behind us, we risk them looking in. And then there's you..."
"Me? What did I do?"
Then it dawned on me... my morning routine.
Katie is lucky in that she gets to sleep much later than I do on any given weekday morning. I work at 8 a.m. every weekday. But she works in a retail environment with a variable schedule. On Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday, she doesn't work until 9 a.m. On Monday and Wednesday, she doesn't have to show up until 1 p.m. My workday is already more than half over by that time.
Despite my excessive jealousy over this arrangement, I tend to play the role of "Nice Hubby" and make as little noise as possible in our bedroom in the morning as I get ready for work. So I shower, brush my teeth, grab my clothes, and go downstairs.
Note that I said "grab my clothes" and not "get dressed."
Yeah, I have this habit of just grabbing my stuff and heading downstairs in nothing but my underwear. Why? Well, like I said above, I try to keep the bedroom as quiet as possible. However, this does seem kinda stupid considering the noise the shower makes. But I do it anyway; it's more the gesture than anything. Plus, we live in a townhouse complex where we are one of the middle units (read: no side windows). All we have are the little dome windows at the top of our front door and then the big sliding glass backdoor.
But, as I've also noted above, we have no neighbors behind us. All that's there is a berm with some tall pine trees. A couple hundred feet behind that we have railroad tracks. Then the empty surrounding fields for several hundred more feet. A major road. Some big backyards. Then, finally, houses.
But these houses are somewhere between a quarter and a third of a mile away. Unless they're looking through some high-powered binoculars, they ain't gonna see jack. Even if they do break out the peepers and decide they want to look, and, God forbid, keep looking, I might as well make it worth their while, right?
So, yeah, my morning consists of about a half hour of walking around downstairs in my underwear. I may even check e-mail or blog in my undies. Hey! If financial institutions can advertise banking in the clothes you were born in to promote their online services, surely I can justify blogging in my boxer briefs. At least I'm slightly more family friendly in my underwear.
To those of you who have met me in person, this concept may seem horrific. For those mental images, I apologize profusely. But never you worry should we become backyard neighbors. I am back in the gym and running again after about a month off. My pansy ass is gonna be slim and trim and binocular worthy. I promise! This wouldn't be a problem if exercise was fun.
This is the second in a series of four lyrical challenge response posts. Today's post, suggested by rennratt, was tied in third place with five votes. The remaining two winners are:
I will complete these other challenges on Tuesday, September 19 and Thursday, September 21, if all goes well. No word on which one will be posted next. That all depends upon my personal inspiration.
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Today's Lyrical Challenge from Chase. The song is "Disintegration" by The Cure.
Can I make a suggestion to all of you out there reading this post right now? If you have boxes of miscellaneous stuff from your past, please go through it right now.
Yes, I mean stop whatever you are doing this instant and go examine the artifacts of your past before it affects your future. Put away the keyboard and mouse. If you are cooking something, stop. I don't care if it burns. If you are at work, grab your keys and drive home immediately.
Recently, an old acquaintance of mine and his fiancee had a "situation" arise in which she discovered a Case Logic CD book filled with discs that he had acquired throughout college. Some were the typical college things like class files, projects, pirated porn. The basics. Nothing much to worry about.
A couple others had files pertaining to an ex. A few photos of their past together, but also letters and e-mails avowing his love for her.
The same thing happened to me a couple years ago when Katie discovered a few photos of an ex-girlfriend of mine that I had no idea still existed. Yes, they were clean photos.
These were, of course, items from our past. These are things that neither of us cared about in the slightest, nor did we even realize we still had them. In my case, they were in a box I knew I had but whose contents I was unaware of. In his case, they just wound up in his black leather book o' discs, packed away and forgotten.
Until they were rediscovered.
It took a while for my friend to calm her down and convince her that he didn't even know he still had them. He was more than willing to dispose of them had he even realized he still had them. They were just in a box that he brought back from college. See no evil... you know how it goes.
So I would recommend that you save yourself from potential headaches and dispose of these things that "mean nothing to you." Find a moment when you can be alone to examine all the boxes labeled "My Stuff" that are in your attic, closet, crawlspace, basement, etc., and throw them out.
Nay, destroy the discs, papers, CDs, photos, etc. Employ sledgehammers, drill presses, tin snips, chainsaws, blowtorches... whatever it takes. Then burn the remains. Finally, bury the ashes.
In situations such as this, "thorough" is the operative word.
You'll thank me and my friend later.
This is the first in a series of four lyrical challenge response posts. Today's post, suggested by Chase, was the number one vote getter with seven. The other three winners were:
I will complete these other challenges on Thursday, September 14; Tuesday, September 19; and Thursday, September 21, if all goes well. No word on which ones will be posted in which order, though. That all depends upon my personal inspiration.
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The time to vote is nigh!
Yes, I apologize, but it is time to stop nominating songs and get on with picking them.
I just realized that in Thursday's post, I said I was going to do this "tomorrow" as in what is now yesterday or Friday. Whoops. I think I was anticipating the weekend being here a bit too early. I had a mental image of this happening on Saturday, but was thinking (or maybe just wishing) that I was posting that on a Friday. Talk about jumping the gun. My bad.
I have chosen one or two lyrics from each person who posited a challenge and now you all get to vote. Just pick your four favorites and tell me in the comments. Each of you can vote only once. And each of you can only vote on a single lyric once. No stacking by giving your lyric all four of your votes. In cases of ties, I will break them. It's my blog and I'm going to be the one writing these, so I have that right.
Continue reading "I get down on my knees, I do anything for you..." »
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Kapgar's Lyrical Challenge
Reality is suddenly setting in regarding yesterday's post. Here I was thinking no one would be interested in the concept and now I've got 18 people involved and 54 song lyrics suggested... and that's just so far.
Don't worry, I'm not wussing out on this. I plan to go through with it. I said I would and I will. I've just got to develop a more concrete plan as I wasn't expecting this much participation.
I think I'm going to leave it open for more suggestions until tomorrow. However, at some point during the day, I will simply declare it done, weed through them all, and pick out one or two lyrics from each person. Tomorrow's post will consist of those suggestions and you all get to vote on your four favorites. I'll tally up the totals, and the top four vote getters will be my blog topics.
From there, I am planning to blog two per week over the next two weeks. I was thinking of doing it on Tuesdays and Fridays. If I like how it all turns out, I will open the post back up to more suggestions and we'll go through the whole shebang again.
Sound cool?
Oh, and you can get to the post by simply clicking on the "kapgar's lyrical challenge" button in the left menubar.
Paperless receipts
For any of you who have ever bought anything online, you are accustomed to receiving paperless receipts in the form of e-mail confirmations of your order.
But have you ever had this happen to you at a bricks-and-mortar retail store?
It happened to me yesterday at the Apple Store in Oak Brook. I bought something and they asked me for my e-mail address. I didn't think much about it because my e-mail is already registered with Apple.com for any number of warranties, e-mail newsletters, and the iTunes Music Store. But then the guy explained that Apple is slowly phasing out paper receipts in favor of electronic ones.
Sure enough, the next time I checked my e-mail, there was my receipt. I thought it was pretty cool. Now I just need to back up my e-mail in case it crashes. I'd hate to lose that.
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As I've been doing for more than a year now, my post titles are always song lyrics or song titles (or some bastardization thereof). And this theme of mine has always made me wonder about a possible challenge involving all of you, my dear readers.
However, I've held off on this idea for a few months now for a couple of reasons. 1) I wasn't sure if there would be any interest; and 2) I'm afraid of what you all will come up with.
Having Chase chime in with continued lyrics to yesterday's post title (which was George Michael's "One More Try," by the way) made me realize that #1 need not be a concern. At least a few of you might be interested. #2 still worries me, though. But I'm going to muscle through my initial trepidations and see what happens.
What I want to do is have all of you suggest lyrics for me for a post. I will pick out a few of my favorite suggestions and blog using them as the driving theme. Whether the post actually winds up being what you expect it to be is something we'll all discover together. I will try to blog about something that has or will soon actually happen to me in real life, but I can't guarantee it. If I only get a few suggestions, I'll eventually post about them all. If I get a ton, we may hold a vote to get the "People's Choice," per se.
A few caveats...
The posting schedule remains to be determined based on participation. Depending on the popularity of this idea, I may try to make it a regular occurrence. I'll post revisions to this challenge in the comments.
No matter how you look at it, it sounds like an interesting challenge to me in terms of creative writing.
I'm either extremely brave or insanely friggin' stupid.
So who will be the daring first challenger?
UPDATE (9/12): The first round of Kapgar's Lyrical Challenge is now closed. However feel free to make suggestions here for the second round. Here are the resulting nominations and first-round voting. And here are the resulting posts:
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I recently took part in a writing initiative over at Literary Hype based on the Akira Kurosawa film Rashomon. I have yet to see Rashomon, but from what I've been told, it's the story of a murder whose details are being explained by several different individuals and all the stories are completely different. If you want a better analysis, check out Hyperion's review on Movie Hype. And, yes, this film is now on the top of my Netflix queue.
Hyperion, who headed up the project, found two pieces of related artwork ...


one a murder scene


the other a council of bishops conferring about the murder
... and assigned several of us a character to write as. He gave us a rough sketch of what was happening, a description of each person in the paintings, and a few other details to stew on, and we all went to work.
The end result of our efforts can be found on the Hyperion Institute along with links to each individual tale.
I actually wrote my part of the story a little over a week ago. It's weird to go back and reread it.
But, I do hope you enjoy it!
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An ode to Full Throttle Fury energy drink...
This morning, I woke up, my brain on hold,
My joints were stiff, I was feeling so old.
But I planned ahead, I knew I'd need gas,
A little something to kick my sad ass.
Last night at White Hen, I went to the back,
Where energy drinks were lining the rack.
Vitamin Water, Red Bull, and Rockstar,
So many are crap, some taste like pure tar.
There in front of me, a can in jet black,
You'd helped me before to get my day on track.
Full Throttle's your name, with a citrus taste,
You gave my day zip, got rid of the haste.
But, behold on your left, what's this I see?
A can in red? A new you called Fury?
I'm a marketing whore, I like new stuff,
This logo, so tribal, so mean, so tough.
Today I awoke and pulled up the tab,
The smell inside gave my senses a jab.
I took my first sip, I drank it right down,
Such a foolish choice, I'm such a damn clown.
My eyes shot open, my feet left the floor,
My body in gear went straight for the door.
I should know better, I don't want to die,
Dropped down in a hole and covered in lye.
A wise man I'm not; my instincts, they stank,
All sixteen ounces in this can I drank.
Read these words I've written here on display,
If given a can, Sweet Christ, run away.
In all fairness, though, this stuff is not bad,
If you've got a stomach that's ironclad.
If energy drinks are truly your "thing,"
Then Full Throttle Fury's praises you'll sing.
Yeah, I was floating after this can. Quite reminiscent of my espresso pulling days. Yowza! But I sure got a lot of work done and I wasn't complaining about it in the slightest. Amazing how little complaining you do when you have the energy of a stampede of wild horses.
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Some of you have figured me out, some of you have not.
Allow me to recap some of the clues I gave each day before I tell you who I was Lost Blogging as.
Just so you don't tune out on this post, the six winners (yes... six! Pauly upped it on us) are listed at the end of this post. Woo hoo!
Day 1:
Day 2:
Day 3:
Day 4:
Day 5:
Now, let's see who I am...

Yes, I would be the great racehorse, Man O' War!
Shocked? Dismayed? Ah, I even said in the last e-mail about the contest that you could be an animal if you could come up with one distinguishable enough that it could be guessed.
And nearly a dozen of you did guess me.
The big kudos go to SJ and Neil, though. They got me on Day 1. Scared the bejeebus out of me that someone guessed me that quickly. I was afraid it was all downhill from there.
Now, let's give my clues a closer analysis...
Day 1:
Day 2:
Day 3:
Day 4:
Day 5:
Making sense now? I hope so.
Hope you all enjoyed taking part in this Grassroots Blogger Book Marketing Campaign. I know I had a blast.
But, now it's time for business as usual at kapgar.com.
The Winners' Circle:
C'mon! Would you expect less from a guy who spent a week blogging as a horse?
Congrats to all of you who participated! You did a great job and all deserve recognition.
A few words from Paul...
This was OBVIOUSLY tough. Everyone's were well-written, creative, and ingenious but I had to pick six so I picked these based on how "real" they felt to me or how authentic the voices sounded. And humor, well, humor is always good.
Congrats to these people and thanks again.
For those of you that Pauly picked, please e-mail me your full name and mailing address. I will be forwarding these to Paul so he can send you your prize booty!
In no particular order (I think):
Acceptance speeches can be posted in the comments to this thread. Heh.
Congrats to all, you lucky stiffs!
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| I told you yesterday about the one time in my career that I did not win my race. But would you like to know the real kicker behind this story? The little bastard who beat me was known affectionately as “Upset.” What the hell kind of nickname is that? But, this name existed well before this particular race. In all honesty, I have no idea what his real name is… everyone always called him “Upset.” So, when he beat me, the race was “won by Upset.” Anytime you hear “winner by upset,” “won in an upset,” or some other derivation, you can blame that little freak. No joke. I win all but one race in my career, and he gets a catchphrase. Do I have a catchphrase? Nuh-uh. All I’ve got is a wannabe jellyfish and a street in my hometown. I don’t know if he won any other races before or after that one. But what does it matter? That one race was “won by Upset.” Life just ain’t fair. My partner, Johnny, found that out the hard way. He was canned. Heh heh. There I go laughing again. I gotta stop that… it hurts. And the doctors look at me like I’m nuts. Maybe I am nuts… but I’m craving an apple. Welcome to the Lost Blogs/GBBMC promotion. If you liked what you read here and would like to see what other bloggers from throughout history might say, check out Paul Davidson's The Lost Blogs coming soon to a bookstore near you. |
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| After reading my earlier posts, you may be scratching your head wondering how the hell I could remember all those details from the early part of my life. I’ve heard my story told several times. And, while I don’t understand every word (as I explained previously), I have heard enough of the same words repeated over and over enough times that I can figure it out. Plus, I have a ton of those flat images of me. I think they’re called photographs. They’re taken with something called a “camera.” Cameras are the strangest contraptions in the world, aren’t they? It’s a big, black box on a three-legged stand. The box has a hole in the middle of it that they point at you while they hold a big broom-looking thing in the air. Then the person behind the box pulls their head out from under a blanket, makes a goofy face, and pushes a button. What happens next is a bit of a blur as I’m temporarily blinded by that broom-looking wand when it erupts in a flash of light. What the hell is that all about? I digress. I began racing really early in life and Sam and my coach, Louis (I call him “Louie Louie” – it’s my one chance at revenge for him constantly calling me “Big Red”… the prick), knew I was something special immediately. After all, I won my first race. And not by some small margin either. I won my next couple races, as well. I was quickly becoming a force to be reckoned with. In fact, there was only one race in my life that I didn’t win. And you wanna know why? My partner distracted me at the starting line. I was all kinds of discombobulated (what a great word!). The starting gun fired… and I missed it. Everyone was well ahead of me on this race. But you wanna know something? Even though I started late and they were all so far ahead of me, I still finished in second place. Yep, I came from behind and only finished about a few heads back on the leader. How’s that for drama? Welcome to the Lost Blogs/GBBMC promotion. If you liked what you read here and would like to see what other bloggers from throughout history might say, check out Paul Davidson's The Lost Blogs coming soon to a bookstore near you. |
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| I loved running. There was nothing quite so liberating as feeling the wind rush through my hair. The pounding of my heart. The throbbing of my lungs. It was the ultimate high. I don’t know how many of you have ever been involved in racing… I mean on foot and not the automobile kind. If you have, you know how important your feet are to your very existence. They, along with your legs, are everything. If you don’t take of them, they don’t take care of you. My feet were no less important. And I did have them taken care of… very well, in fact. I constantly had them cleaned and pedicured to make sure that nothing was wrong with them. And doctors were always examining them for instances of bone splints or excessive callusing. You just can’t take the risk that something will go wrong with them. But another key to racing is comfort. Even if your feet are well taken care of, they can’t do much if they uncomfortable. A lack of comfort leads to cramping; which, in turn, leads to fatigue; and then, in a worst-case scenario, you lose. The threat of what could potentially happen should I lose and not place was always looming over my head. And it was quite the motivator. If I didn’t win, I was worthless. And, since racing was the only thing I knew, there was no way I could ever try to do anything else. I guess I could retire and settle down and start a family. But, who would have me? The answer is simple… nobody. Nobody likes a loser. Even fewer can love one. Welcome to the Lost Blogs/GBBMC promotion. If you liked what you read here and would like to see what other bloggers from throughout history might say, check out Paul Davidson's The Lost Blogs coming soon to a bookstore near you. |
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| I don’t really know my mom and dad all that well. I was taken from them at an early age and raised by a nice elderly couple.
I use “nice” very loosely. Yes, they were good to me, but only for a very brief period of time. My adoptive father was prone to delusions of grandeur. He was pretty damned old when I was but an infant and he thought he was still in good enough shape to “fight the good fight.” Yeah, the imbecile enlisted in the Great War – the big war that was going on among all the nations of the world. My adoptive mother cried. Day in and day out. I never realized someone could have that many tears inside them. I never cried but she always shared her pain with me, nonetheless. I was her source of comfort. Her rock. Her reason to live while Augie was away. She even referred to me using a derivation of a cutesy little nickname she had developed for him – her big, brave trooper. An idiot is all he was in my mind. Why? Well, after he left, she was forced to liquidate the family business. And rather than subject me to the horrors of poverty, she put me up for adoption. She wanted me to have a good home. And I did just that. I was adopted by a guy named Sam. Sam was a far cry from Augie and his wife, though. He pushed me. He made me work for my keep. He whipped me into shape. Arguably, what Sam did for and to me made me into the champion that I was. Welcome to the Lost Blogs/GBBMC promotion. If you liked what you read here and would like to see what other bloggers from throughout history might say, check out Paul Davidson's The Lost Blogs coming soon to a bookstore near you. |
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| 1947: I’m dying. It may sound horrible, but it’s true. I’m laying here in this stiff, uncomfortable bed that feels like a bunch of nails prickling my back and sides. And it aches. Every part of me aches. The doctors have been coming in and out of my room for the last several days. They keep poking and prodding me trying to determine what’s wrong. There’s nothing I can do to stop them. Louis and Clarence keep coming in trying to relax me. Reassure me. Make sure I don’t snap and “accidentally” hurt one of them. The thought gives me occasion to laugh a bit. I don’t laugh much these days, so that rare opportunity certainly feels good. But what kills me is that I don’t really know what the hell they’re saying. It’s like a completely foreign language to me. I can understand the words of comfort… the terms they use to make me feel better and calm me down. These words and phrases have been uttered to me ad infinitum throughout my life. They may be in a foreign language, but you adjust. You hear something enough times and, regardless of the language in which it’s being spoken, you can eventually understand it. It’s purely contextual. The look on their faces, the way they approach you, the way they act during their examinations. There’s care and comfort in those actions. You’d think I would like that. Normally, I would. Ah! See! He just mouthed “Big Red”! I know that one. And, let me tell you something, I hate that damn name. Everyone around me thinks it’s great. They love calling me that. Well, guess what? It’s not my name! Nobody asked me if they could call me by that name. Nobody secured my permission. I’d gnaw the lips off each person that called me Big Red if they’d just sit still long enough for me to wrap my teeth around their faces. I’m laughing again. That’s twice in one day. Not bad. He-e-e-ey! I have a name! It’s… Oh great. There they go again. The docs just turned to my coach and my partner and started in with the gibberish. Big, long, confusing words that I’m not even sure they understand. And they’re all speaking the same language. Or so I think. And they become very businesslike. That’s how I know I’m dying. They speak to me in terms of comfort and then talk very professionally to the people who are there with me. I get cut out of the loop entirely on this part of the conversation. That’s never a good sign. But what the hell do I know? I’m just… Oh hell. Another shot! I hate these. And this one’s going right in my thigh. DAMMIT! That hurt! Yes, I can think of far greater pains. A shot in the thigh, in the grand scheme of things, is no big deal. But when you get several of these “lesser” pains all in relatively close sequence and proximity, it becomes a bit unbearable. And my legs are my life. Or “were” my life, as the case may be. They carried me to victory. They made me a champion. They made me famous. I was a god. Now this “god” is dying. And I’m only 30 years old to boot. Time to just close my eyes and remember. Think back to the cliché’d “good ol’ days.” Hey, if it helps me get through this, why not? Welcome to the Lost Blogs/GBBMC promotion. If you liked what you read here and would like to see what other bloggers from throughout history might say, check out Paul Davidson's The Lost Blogs coming soon to a bookstore near you. |
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Apparently, I'm in quite a bitter, yet poetic, mood today.
An Ode to the Dipshit at the Gym Yesterday...
You came up to the counter last night,
With a tone full of venom and spite.
You got in my face,
You fucking headcase.
Now I may string you up like a kite.
© 2006 Kevin Apgar
Here's a tip, jackass... when your "favorite" treadmill is on the fritz, USE ANOTHER ONE! Or, better yet, take advantage of our 65-degree weather and run outside.
I hate stupid people.
But I love limericks.
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An ode to Microsoft Windows...
Together we work, day in and day out
This situation makes me want to shout.
You freeze, you crash, you enrage me daily,
Yet your makers sing your praises gaily.
Some IT departments, stubborn they are,
Are their choices made while drunk in a bar?
They prefer the low-priced licensing rates,
Don't they realize they're tempting the fates?
Price equals quality, this much rings true,
I've declared this fact til my face turns blue.
Invest in quality, shoot for long term,
Make a wise choice and stand by it quite firm.
There's another choice, a better O.S.,
One that makes you scream aloud, "OH HELL YES."
The name's OSX and it's made by Mac,
And once you've gone Mac, there's no going back.
© 2006 Kevin Apgar
I'm done with you Windows. You and all the errors and crashes that you so readily propagate. My fury is at its peak. I want out... but I can't. Work dictates I deal with this hell on a daily basis.
I wish I knew how to quit you.
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First of all, I need to congratulate Jacynth who posted the 1,000th comment on my blog. Wow... 1,000. That's pretty weird to think about. Thank you to all my family, friends, and blog buddies out there for keeping me motivated to constantly post and garner these comments. The immediacy of comment feedback really does make this whole thing worthwhile. I'm sure almost any blogger would agree.
Again, congrats, Jacynth!
And, if you were still up in the air about participating in the Grassroots Blogger Book Marketing Campaign, I now have reason why you should shed any doubts and take part in the festivities.
Three words: We. Have. Prizes.
Yes, that's right, we have a prize benefactor in the form of the author of The Lost Blogs, Paul Davidson. He e-mailed me saying that he would be more than willing to play Judge/Jury/Executioner (only kidding, about the last part) and pick the three best blogs during the promotional period. Those three select individuals will be receiving a autographed, first-edition of The Lost Blogs. How cool is that?
However, there is one catch. His publisher is hoping to not have any of the historical figures that Paul has represented in his book be duplicated in our blogs. There are quite a few that Paul has covered and I have the list. But, I do not want to ruin the surprise by listing them all here. So, if you are interested, e-mail me or leave a comment, and I'll check the list to see if your choice works or not.
And, after seeing this list, I can definitely say I'm looking forward to reading it.
Since there is still plenty of time before this contest happens, I would like to ask that you try to hype it up a bit if at all possible. I have even created a nifty little badge that you can use to promote the contest. I would really like to see several more people become involved. As it stands, with only four participants, all but one of us will be receiving a book. And, while that bodes well for our chances, I'd still like to see the competition level increased.
All I ask is that you link the badge back to the original contest post (http://kapgar.typepad.com/my_weblog/2006/02/im_just_a_soul_.html) so we can keep an accurate list of contest participants.
I really think this can be something fun to try out even if you don't know Paul. And, if you do a good job, you get free stuff. How can you go wrong?
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How would all of you like to take part in a marketing campaign?
Or, more specifically, a Grassroots Blogger Book Marketing Campaign, or GBBMC for short?
Well, this is your opportunity to get involved on the ground floor and it costs you nothing but a little time each day doing what you already do best... blogging.
This is an idea I came up with while going for a walk today during my lunch break and it involves a fellow blogger that many of you already know and love. If you don't, then you should really check out his site. It is Paul Davidson, the wit behind Words For My Enjoyment.
Paul is also a published writer and his second book, The Lost Blogs: From Jesus to Jim Morrison, is due to be released to the book-whoring public on May 8, 2006 (you can preorder it from Amazon.com, among other online booksellers now). The book covers how blogs by some of the most famous people in the world might read.
It really is an interesting concept and I look forward to reading it (yes, Pauly, I will place my preorder soon, I promise). And, in an attempt to help get word out about this book, I am proposing that we, as Pauly's fellow bloggers, readers, and fans, start our own pseudo-celebrity blogs.
Here are the rules I am establishing for this GBBMC...
Yes, this sounds like an odd idea. Even I kinda laughed it off when I first thought about it. But as I kept walking on through my lunch break and contemplated who I could be and what I would say, the idea progressively sounded better and better. I'm actually looking forward to it despite the fact that I'm not sure who I will be.
So, before you laugh it off, take some time to think about it. There is plenty of time to decide if you want to take part in it. And if you do opt to participate, I will have a nifty little badge designed for you to place on your blog.
But I will take this a step further. I know I have friends who would dig this sort of thing but do not maintain a blog of their own. If a non-blogger friend of mine is interested, I will post their entries on my own blog. If you have friends in the same situation, maybe you can open up your blog to them as well. No, I don't mean give them username/password access, but just have them e-mail their entries to you and you post them.
If you are, in fact, interested, leave a comment on this post. I will have this post permalinked on my homepage so you can find it easily if you make your decision a little later down the road. I want to maintain a list at the end of this entry with the participants and links to their blogs so people can find them easily.
Oh, and until Pauly reads this post, he has no idea I'm doing this. He did not recruit me in any way whatsoever. All my idea; whether it's a good one remains to be seen. And, Pauly, if this violates some kind of promotional contract you have with Warner Books, let me know and I'll kill it.
Anybody interested?
Participants (updated Monday, April 10):
Update - Friday, February 24:
There is now a caveat to the contest detailed in my 2/23 post in which we need to avoid posting about historical figures that Pauly already features in his book. If you are interested in participating and would like to know who is included in the book, contact me via e-mail or comment and I'll let you know.
However, to make up for it and to make this contest more enticing, Pauly is offering prizes. The top three bloggers throughout the course of the campaign will receive autographed, first-edition copies of the book. Entries will be judged by Pauly himself. So make them good!
Update - Monday, February 27:
With all the people that are now discovering this contest thanks to the plugs on Words for my Enjoyment, The Lost Blogs Google Group, and Mikey's site, I felt it would be a good idea to get all the information that is on both of my posts right here. Yes, it is a bit duplicitous (oooohhh, nice word!), but it keeps people from having to click all over the place.
So the final bit of information I would need to transfer over from my other post would be that I now have a badge that you can use on your blogs to promote the contest a bit. If you feel so inclined, please steal this badge and post on your own site. I only ask that you link it back to this post (permalink - http://kapgar.typepad.com/my_weblog/2006/02/im_just_a_soul_.html)
Update - Thursday, March 16:
We have now broken 20 participants! I really like how this is shaping up!
Update - Sunday, March 19:
Thanks to Pauly's additional post about the contest, we have another four participants. There may even be more when people log into their RSS readers after the weekend.
Update - Sunday, March 19:
This is just the coolest damn thing. Jennifer of All Things Jen(nifer) has created a blogroll of all the participants in this contest. I will add it to my own blog come April 1. But if any of you would like to steal it now, feel free. Just copy and paste the following bit of code somewhere in your sidebar. As new people sign up for the contest, Jen will add them to the roll. The change will be automatic and you will not have to do a single thing to the blogroll as it exists on your blog.
[script language="javascript" type="text/javascript" src="http://rpc.blogrolling.com/display.php?r=7058c93bc64ba5aed8ef55f05048160c"][/script ]
Important Note: Replace all instances of [ and ] with < and > (if I don't sub out the [ and ] here in this post, it will show up as the actual blogroll and you'll never see the code you need to use). You should also leave the extra space after "/script", seems to work better that way.
Update - Friday, March 24:
And now we have 30. This is officially freaking me out that this idea has caught on so well.
Update - Sunday, April 9:
It looks like we'll be kicking off this shindig tomorrow with 40 participants!
Good luck to all involved!
Update - Monday, April 10:
Okay, I pray this is the last time I have to update this particular post (somehow I doubt that will actually be the case). But, some have come and some have gone and now we're sitting pretty at 41 participants. And the contest is already well under way. Some of you have posted some magnificent first entries. I stand in awe. Keep up the great work!
Update - Monday, May 22:
Now that it's all been over and done for quite some time and the book has been released to the mainstream public, it's time for my absolute final update to this post. The one for posterity's sake. Just in case someone does a search for this page and only finds this information, I figured I may as well give you some handy links to my entries for this contest. Here you go...
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All the text and opinions and most of the photos and design elements on kapgar.com are © 2005-2012, Kevin Apgar, unless otherwise stated. If there's something on here you'd like to borrow, please ask. 9 times out of 10, I'll say yes. I just want to know that you're using it and where. Plus, you'll feel better about yourself knowing that you didn't steal it. Warm, fuzzy goodness. I should also say I'm not responsible for content on nor continued existence of the websites linked off my blog. I'd like to wield influence over them, but I don't. Sad.

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