A bad day golfing...

beats a good day doing just about anything else. And I am a terrible golfer. I think that helps me enjoy it more than people who are great, good, or decent. If you have ability you're almost obligated to get pissed at yourself when you hit a lousy shot. Me, on the other hand, I look at it in terms of value. Maybe if I focused really hard and hit the range a lot and got nice clubs (instead of the Sam Snead signature blades I hit) I could shoot an 85 (ok, 95...let's be serious..). But this is simple economics, people. I like to go and get my money's worth. See the whole course. If I take a 110 swings, so be it. It's a better value and I still have fun. Sometimes I hit the shit out of the ball. This year I've been dealing with a little push (read: significant slice. Not a Lawler slice, but still poor..) off the tee, but I figure the best way to solve that minor problem is just to swing harder. That way when I do catch it I feel awesome.

But, ya. I got to the course at 7:30am to get soaked today and I couldn't have been happier with how things turned out. Hell, I was a professional golfer for the day. I got a sponsor's exemption (Skip's 4th guy had to bail, so I got late the call up) and made money by playing (2nd closest to the pin on hole #8. Twenty five bones in my pocket. Proof I can play a little bit. No big deal. Be impressed.).

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Silver Anniversary (And every silver lining has a touch of grey..)

A couple of you remembered that I had a birthday last week (To those of you who remembered, I thank you. To those who didn't, don't feel bad. I don't know when your birthdays are, either.). The big Two-Five. Yippee. I guess I'm old by some standards. But young by others. Whatever. I don't really care for birthdays. I hid the ol' birth date for a week or so leading up. I'm sneaky; I don't see it as a good reason to go out and party. I don't really need or care for an excuse to party. When I want to go out and have a beer, then I go out and have a beer. When I don't want to, I don't. It's really that simple. Had my birthday fallen on a Thursday this year then chances are I would have been out and about, but more so because I like to go to Gipper's on Thursdays and drink half priced beers. Shrewd move, I know. I'm financially savvy, we've been over this many times before. Count your change, people.

The only thing this birthday made me realize is I'm 25 and I still live with my parents. And that probably makes me a lame ass, lazy person who doesn't want to get a legitimate job. Culturally I'm probably looked at poorly, even though most people will say to my face "Oh, well saving money is smart." Pure BS, but thanks for trying to make me feel better.

So here is my query to (the few of..) you out there: What would I be good at? It doesn't have to be groundbreaking and my future for the next 40 years, but what should I do that would allow me to get out of my efficiency which is located in the same place I've lived for the last 23 or so years. Sorry, Skip and Marie. I think it's time for me to go (Sometime in the next couple months...you can't rush something like this...HAH). I'll be anxiously awaiting your thoughts on my what should be my near-future locations and endeavors. As Thomas Petty once said "It's time to move on, time to get going. What lies ahead, I have no way of knowing."

And on the subject of jobs, is there anything more stupid than putting an "objectives" on top of a resume? I have no idea when this became necessary and what moron said that should be standard practice, but I think it's just stupid. I don't need to tell you why I'm submitting a resume...I WANT A JOB. I NEED TO EAT, AND I WILL TRADE MY SERVICES FOR MONETARY COMPENSATION. Oh, wait, you didn't realize that? You're right, I thought I was writing to the Sears catalog to see if they'd send me a customized Christmas wish-book (Don't act like you don't remember the wish-book when you were little. You'd dog-ear pages and circle things in crayon, too. Ah, memories.) based on my educational and employment history. You thought I wanted a job? How silly of you. And this is why I haven't updated my resume in two years. That, or I'm lazy. Probably the latter. Fack.

OK, so scratch what I said before. I just want someone to gift wrap me a job, similar to what has happened to me the last 2 years. I want the application and interview process to be nothing more than a formality, if either are even needed at all. I just need the job located somewhere outside of greater L/A which in turn would (should..) motivate me to get out on my own and start pretending to be an adult, rather than continue to live a life strikingly similar to I led in high school six to ten years ago. Is that too much to ask?

While I don't like birthdays all that much, cake is one of my guilty pleasures. As long as it doesn't have that fake-ass frosting on it. Frosting must be legitimate and made old-school style. I have absoolutely no idea how old school frosting is made other than it is loaded with sugar and just looking at it makes me feel like Type II diabetes may be in my future. I don't have cake a lot, so when I do I have no regard and will eat it like a glutton. With Vanilla ice cream at times, too. Magically delicious.

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Consider this your first invitation to the 3rd-ish annual Capone 4th of July Party. The first two years consisted of myself, Mr. Lawler, and my parents playing drinking games together and eating good foods. Last year we were also joined by an eclectic blend of old friends still in town in the latter portion of the afternoon and ended at the Goose, by all accounts a fine evening. This year, I'd expect more of the festive atmosphere which Capone Memorial Day gatherings are known for. A lot of stars and stripes. It's a lot of food. A lot of fun. A lot of Marie acting as drinking police in the sweet dice game we play. If you haven't played before, trust me you'll be in for a treat.

So, if you were over on Memorial Day then you're invited back. If I've already spoken with you then you're invited. If You're a regular reader and for some reason I haven't invited you and you know where I live then feel free to stop by. Weather permitting, of course; the Capone house is an outdoor-only meeting place. Weather looks good as of now so if you have any requests then let me know. I'll either say, "that's a great idea, bring it along," or "that's an awful idea, bring it along." Take that for whatever it's worth. And Nick's pool is 72 degrees and Butch has the solar cover on. If it ever stops raining maybe it'll warm up. But bring your trunks, too (Kath - wear the black two piece...awww yeah).

And if I invited you then I invited you for a reason. Don't bullshit me and pretend that you have something better to do. If you miss it then consider yourself dead to me. And that's all I have to say about that.

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So last night I had a nightmare. Or something. I couldn't fall asleep because I suck and I have a horrible sleep schedule, but I ended up waking up around 5:15am after feeling like someone was standing over me. So I woke up startled and sweating, with some rapid breathing thrown in for good measure. Pretty freaky. I was unimpressed. Maybe I need to get a night light. Or maybe I just need to stop staying up late doing nothing besides stuffing my face with food. I type this while I'm eating my 3rd roll of PEZ. At 11:33pm. This will be another good night. Balls. Cheers.