Black Wednesday

This year’s Black Wednesday is going to be a little different for me. In years past my friends and I have trudged over to a local watering hole with an insane late night liquor license to welcome yet another Thanksgiving Day with a hangover. The numbers have been dwindling for the past few years so we have decided to switch it up and tonight we will be playing poker. This doesn’t really mean that any less alcohol will be consumed but it does take away some of the moving parts. For one thing it is a closer stumble down the magic path in front of my house. For another I think I am still recovering from New Orleans.

I didn’t really talk about my final night in that town and most of the details are classified but overall it was an incredible experience. Watched a lot of live music and drank the entire spectrum of available liquor as we played Captain my Captain. This is basically a game where the Captain calls the next bar and orders the first round of drinks, usually the specialty of  the house.  If the bar and or the music was especially good more rounds were consumed until another Captain took control.

The game began a little before five and somewhere around midnight one of my companions began to incoherently wander off. I took it upon myself to get him home safely and I knew I had an ungodly early wake-up call. I got to bed somewhere between 12:30 and 1:00 with a 4:15 alarm on the phone. My entire trip home is a blotchy pile of memories.

I remember showering to try and sober up but I’m pretty sure I slept in there for a while.

The next thing I remember I was riding in the cab to the airport and the cabbie kept asking if I was tired…

Security was a blur but I distinctly remember sitting right next to the gate hoping that the other people would wake me up if I slipped into a coma.

I boarded the plane with the alarm still going off in my pocket as the stewardess informed me while I walked past. The live music damaged the hearing in my left ear.

I woke up at some point during the flight because someone extracted all of the liquids from my mouth and it was sealed shut.

No real idea how I got my bag or called the cab but I do remember a life giving sausage mcmuffin with egg and a large Diet Coke.

I was a luke warm mess all day Saturday and didn’t even mind the extra hours commute home due to the snow storm.


I am writing this right now to almost no one and that is by design. Things got a bit bumpy in my life and it was time to stop for a while. That coincided with some readers who were annoying me and some other fun factors that I wont bore you with here. So I did me some reading and found out how long I would have to take things down before people left me for dead (metaphorical writing sense not side of the road rotting corpse) and went away. It turns out the internets were right about this one. I’m averaging about two hits per day and one of those is a persistent spam robot me thinks.

I haven’t really told anyone that this is back up and I think I’ll keep it that way for a while. Not sure what it is but something about writing for an empty room that appeals to me. At some point I will connect it back up to the twitter and maybe Google will find me again but for now the quiet is nice. I found some of my old pictures and I think I can plug a bunch of them in to old posts but that will take time. I have the site in a weird pdf book form that captured most of the pictures but there is no easy way to translate that back to this thing.

A quick note as to how I ended up self hosting. I had everything moved over to the Google mother-ship and I do mean everything. But then some things on the site got glitchy. So I asked for help but got none. No matter how many times I tried or how long I waited. Then I started to worry that I was going to lose the name and that is the one thing I wont give up. I know its strange but makes me smile. Maybe its the years I’ve had it or the things I’ve learned writing it I’m not sure. But I do so love me the name.

As I began to look for a domain name provider to switch to away from Google. (Holy crapcakes that was a doozy of a sentence!) I came across an add in my mail from my old friends at fatcow. They were offering site hosting for an extremely reasonable dollar per month so for twelve whole bucks I switched and here we sit.

Please resist the urge to tell me this is a one year loss leader price. I understand. But you need to remember that this was dead and I didnt want to put it anywhere I didn’t control. I was writing at Medium for a while but that whole system gives them total control almost like they own your stuff. I never felt good writing there. That’s enough bore for today. I’ll attempt to regain the funny tomorrow.

The Sovereign Republic of Tomzbekistan

I have been declared a rogue nation by some of my coworkers. This is due to my natural resistance of going along with the crowd. I am the guy who asks why and for people that want their opinions to be the only one that matters I might be frustrating. Instead of taking offense I am choosing to embrace this new designation and run with it. I welcome you to the birth of Tomzbekistan. We already have a flag…


This town will getcha

Life hurts this morning and it can’t be my fault. Its this city. Being able to walk around while drinking in what amounts to a nightly street party is intoxicating. (see what I did there?) Before you know whats happening you’ve been over-served and had a great time. Last night we went off the beaten track for some authentic New Orleans food. Coop’s Place would make my highly recommended list if such a list existed anywhere but in my head. I like the feeling of a place that has success due to their lack of caring what anyone else thinks. They have a simple local menu that is done really well. I loved the food so much I almost took a picture of the plate after I started but the waiter had already told me to put my toy away (phone) and enjoy the people around me.

Then my group made their way to a bar that moved around in a circle. I had just enough alcohol to not put together the Carousel Bar name with the rotation. The queue for a seat on the ride was ruthless and none of us ever got one but that’s okay. We had a great time in spite of missing the snails pace rotation. So much fun in fact that I woke up with a sore stomach from laughing and a voice that sounds and feels like ground glass and gravel.

That is partially brought to me by my sampling of local cocktails. Something called a Pim’s Cup goes down like sweet water but will donkey punch you after four or five. Some evil concoction called a Sazerac can put you on your ass as well and that doesn’t even touch the Hurricane. I got a tip from an obvious professional drinker that said to only order those from a real bar and not those slurpy machines. The first one I had was giving me a strong booze vapor from two feet away. Each sip seemed like a straight shot of rum.

The people watching here is world class as well. The street performers, the beggars, the carnival barkers trying to suck you in to their establishment, the hookers, the pimps, and the tourists. Amazing. I had to walk around with a permanent fuckyouface to keep most of them at bay but I still enjoyed the experience. I broke a personal rule because I needed to learn the scam.

A dude walks up to you and tells you he likes your shoes in an effort to get you to slow down or stop walking. Then he bets you that he can tell you where you got your shoes. He tries to make you promise that is he guesses correctly you will let him shine your shoes. I was wearing old gym shoes so I knew he didn’t like them and there is nothing to polish so I would not agree. When I started to walk away he said “You got your shoes right her on Bourbon Street New Orleans Louisianan under your feet” and tried to squirt something from an old bottle of hand sanitizer on my feet. I moved away before I had to throw anything away, armed with a new weapon against the grift.

The next three guys who came to me with the scam got the answer before they could finish. The hookers are even better. There was one wearing shorts and tape Xs over her nipples. As guys stopped to take pictures she expected a tip and worked them for “a party.” Another enterprising young lady had a string bikini top expertly painted on her naked torso. Same game except her “boyfriend” was walking right behind her. She might have landed a group engagement as we were walking away. Well done young entrepreneur.

The Gap

As I finish kicking the tires on this silent relaunch of my stupidsite I fell as if I should address the gap or gaps in written material. This thing has writing going back to 2001 but I was actually writing on the internet before those posts. Earlier my stuff was done on my own janky website. Back in the early days of the internet providers offered you a tiny amount of web real estate and the ability to put up a personal web page. I was one of the few dorks who took them up on their insanely difficult process.

The things I remember from those prehistoric days of was how terrible the writing was (resist the urge to tell me nothing has changed) and how visually nauseating the appearance. Every time I learned how to do something new I added it to my site. Flashing colors, flying letters, rotating logos, I did it all. I think at one point I was in danger of triggering an epileptic seizure and I don’t even suffer from that disease.

Once I tired of doing it all myself I bounced around to every service and provider available over the years. I wont bore you with the trail but it meant that I moved this a lot and lost tons of content in the multiple moves. I was also never great a conscientious backups so things went away there as well. Then you might notice if you dig deep enough that none of my pictures are here. Again I failed to figure out how to save the hundreds of pictures embedded in posts so that is super awesome.

So the gaps are just missing pieces in the record of my internet content. Like a cave painting warn away in spots by time it is incomplete and maybe doesn’t make much sense. But it is all I have left of stupidtom throughout the years so we will all just have to deal with that fact.


I am in New Orleans freezing my ass off in a hotel room because its so damn humid outside that the air conditioner wont shut off. I refuse to actually move the switch into the deactivate position for fear of waking up in the middle off the night with this entire bed stuck to me as if it were made of wet toilet tissue. The air outside has density and it carries more than music and merriment. I am talking about the smells.

This morning I went out on a supply run at 7:00am and the thick punch of garbage hit me square in the nose. It was a little like sipping the thick atmosphere through my nostrils. It took some work and then I wanted it to stop. So I went to the nose closed mouth breathe which turned out to be a colossal mistake. The taste of the air made my mouth water in an undesirable way. I was completely thrown but I wrote it off to a garbage day phenomenon.

As I made my way down the street the thick odors of spilled beer with a hint off sick drew my attention to a little hole in the wall bar with a pair off day drinkers sitting at a table on the sidewalk. When I expressed my admiration for their early morning beers and the ability to disregard their olfactory senses they just raised their bottles and nodded. I’m not sure if that was a start, a finish, or a marathon continued but I do know that this is the wrong place to live if you’ve got troubles with the drink.

When the restaurants offer you a to-go-zy as a normal part off doing business you begin to think that it might be okay. If I were on vacation it would be good but being right in the heart of this while trying to work is a challenge. The folks in the next room got back about ten minutes ago and began to impress me shortly after they arrived. I am typing this now in an effort to not lie in the dark and listen to them rutting. With the sincere hope that when I finish they will as well. no  such  luck


So it looks like I have something to shoot for and that is good old fashioned fat and lazy. A woman on my flight was wheeled up to the gate by a big beeping trolley. She was then transferred to a wheel chair where she got to board even before the elusive Global Services snobs. Then, when if finally boarded the plane, she was seated in my row. Luckily nobody had to squeeze in between us as that would have been an uncomfortable sweaty ride.

I was truly concerned about her apparent health condition and she was more than willing to share. What I thought was some kind of debilitating disease turned out to be a case of the tireds. I got a little confused by the answer so I asked her to repeat.

“I just get so tired walking around that I can’t catch my breath”

How did you get the wheel chair? I asked.

“oh I just axed for it when I checked in.”

Did they need a doctors note or any kind of proof that you were in need?

“Nope. Whudda you mean by proof? I GET TIRED.”

Sorry, and touche. I am the idiot in this story. I had no idea that you could just be enormous and tired and get special treatment. I also think she might be working on an insulating polymer for the government. When she extracted herself from her seat the sides of her legs retained the indentations from the arms of the seat. Like human memory foam. It was stunning to behold.

Hello world!

I love the title of this generic WordPress first post. So much hope… Almost as if the entire internet was just waiting for me to start typing. Anyway, if you somehow landed here you can plainly see that this isn’t my first post so I had to change this text to explain this mess is that is even possible.

I did this for a while and what you now see is a restored backup of my original site(s). (the “s” is because this was a lot of things in a lot of places over the years not just one long single thread) I shuttered a while back but then I decided it was time to dust it off and see where it takes me. You might have noticed that none of the pictures showed up. I screwed something up in the backup process so now I will be going back and deleting anything that doesn’t make sense without the visual element.

Another quick side note, if you look at the temporary URL I couldn’t have picked a better host for this thing. The good people at fatcow should be rewarded for their name alone.

Forgive me reader for I have sinned

It has been a assload of time since my last post. I have a pile of excuses but none of them add up to much as far as someone outside of my life is concerned. I reached a point for the first time in recent memory where things have been coming at me so fast that I didn’t feel like I could properly think. I sat down to write a couple of times only to be overwhelmed and then completely shut down.

I am still in the middle of this cyclone but I am going to try and write over the next few days as a way of calming myself down. But to start that process rolling down a hill I will briefly sum up some of the things going on so I dodge the temptation to write about them every single day.
First up, mom had a brain tumor. Yup, I said had because during my hiatus the peach sized growth was extracted from her skull. This is her ordeal and I am honoring her total communication blackout because there are around three of you who know how to find this stuff. Plus I will be giving no further details thus dodging any potential trouble that would result in a random discovery. Needless to say but I will anyway, this had me a little twisted.

Next my wife decided to go back to grad school. This is a great thing but there are factors that have completely changes the lives of my entire household. Again, I’m not going to get much deeper other than a partial statement about being uncomfortable in my own home.

And if that weren’t enough we have a child in some trouble. Not with the law or anything like that. More trouble with herself. Mental illness is a muthafukka and when its attacking your kid it leaves marks on you. None of this stuff isn’t out of the ordinary and people deal with all of it and worse every day. It is just the perfect storm I now find myself navigating and it is what it is.
Whoever said you are only given what you can handle or are never given more than you can handle was an asshole. Plenty of people have been dealt hands that have completely broken them in mind, body, and or spirit. I think you are given what you are given and you get through as best you can. Everything else is Monday morning quarterbacking.

And so ends the self pitiful whining for today. Hopefully back to regular writing soon.

Being on a losing team shows what you are made of

My sons high school football team is struggling this season and to be honest its been a while since we have been what anyone would call a strong program. I could give you a laundry list of excuses but I have no real idea what a laundry list even is. I am assuming that said same list is supposed to be long but I have no idea how you break that chore out into more than a few parts. Anyway, things on my child’s team are bumpy at the moment.

The only advice I can give him is to do your own job to the best of your ability any time you are in the game. I played on a less than stellar team for the very same school and my own personal philosophy was that I had roughly 60 scheduled fights and I was going to try and win every single one. So no matter the final outcome I would know that I did my job and whoever lined up across from me would know that we met.

The reason I wrote that title is because life deals many more losses than wins. How you react to and recover from a loss is your measure as a human being. So back to being a part of a team with a losing record… Staying an enthusiastic part of the group is the first hurdle. It is very easy to blame everyone and everything but yourself and just go through the motions or quit altogether.

Parents are no help in this matter. I got to watch last weeks game with some sad sack who wanted to do nothing but complain. I got the distinct impression that bad things just happen to him all the time and I wasn’t surprised that one of his major complaints was that the system was set up to prevent his child from getting playing time. Can’t be because you and your offspring sit around complaining while other kids are trying to get better…

Then he decided to get after the coaching staff and the head coach in particular. This is really the second hurdle when you are losing. Declaring that something is wrong with the coaching helps justify your shitty performance and or work ethic. Bad coach, bad season, no reason for me to even try. Except personal pride, intestinal fortitude, or just doing the right thing for yourself and your team. I had to walk away from the idiot and watch elsewhere lest I take out my fan frustrations on him.

I was already salty because he shoehorned himself in to the area where I like to crack wise with my friends. Once an interloper arrives things slow down until we discover who the stranger is related to on the field. This turd just jumped in and started complaining like we’ve been friends for years. If he tries to breach our smart-ass circle next game I am going to claim saved seats for phantom relatives. If he is within earshot I will remind him about some of the fine private institutions our area has to offer. That way you can pick your coach, offense, and defensive scheme. Alas, a tuition check will not guarantee playing time.

For the people in the stands me included complaints about the coaching and the officiating helps sooth the ache of a loss. For all of the same reasons described earlier plus more. “If only” or “why don’t they” makes one feel a little better but it doesn’t do squat for the boys if you spread it to one of them. When I speak to the boy about his game I try to keep it aimed at what he did well. Then I let him talk. He never takes things down the wrong road so there is no reason for me to change good behavior.

I’m writing this as a way to pull my own head out of my considerable hind quarters. I will still be a football mental patient because I love the game and want the best for the kids I know on the field. So I am going to keep watching the line as I’ve always done but now I’m going to cut out all on field commentary…

… only as it relates to the actual game. Everything else is fair. I’m not going to explain. To experience that bad behavior you need to sit near me and contribute yourself.