« August 2002 | Main | October 2002 »

September 30, 2002

The best part of waking up...

Anarchists Jennifer (not to be confused with Jennie), Chet and Brad are standing on the corner of Connecticut and M streets, NW DC. Jennifer, of the United Colors of Benneton United Against Globalization (UCBUAG), idly fondles her homemade coffee can bomb dangling from her distressed jeans she got from the mall just last week on mom's credit card. The coffee can bomb is made from a Folgers coffee can, marketed and distributed by the multinational Procter & Gamble company. No, she isn't making a statement about globalization, it just happens to be the brand she drinks every day when she's not getting her joe at Starbucks.

The anarchists spot something interesting: a 30something lad on a black mountain bike, jet exhaust billowing from his ass as he rides down the street. Chet, of the Gap Coalition Against Multinational Corporations (GCAMC) adjusts his $15 bandanna and takes a whiff of himself to see if his cologne is still working, and comments on the strange sight:

Chet: "Dude, check out that guy on the bike."
Brad: "Like, wow, like it's totally like the jet trails you see in the sky."
Jennifer: "'sigh' Contrails, those are called contrails. That guy like totally has a contrail coming out of his ass!"
Chet: "Damn, his honey pot must be on fire."
Jennifer: [Thinking deeply.] "Hmm...I, like, think I like have an idea!"

Sure enough, the guy on the bike is Jimbo, and his honey pot is so on fire his ass is a smoking gun ready to go off. Jimbo locks his bike outside of the 1211 Connecticut Avenue Washington Sports Club and makes his way into the gym to work off some built up tension.

Jennifer casts off her makeshift smoke bomb, tossing it into the gutter. "Move over Folgers, I've got something better. Like, let's roll, boys." She motions to Chet and Brad to follow, and moves in to tackle Jimbo.

Bereft of mojo from lack of nookie and job issues, Jimbo doesn't see the tackle coming and is overwhelmed by the bulemic anarchist teen girl. Chet and Brad soon offer grappling support, and soon Jimbo has his hands tied behind his back with fashionable canvas belts supplied by Chet (of the Banana Republic Anarchist Alliance Against Republics (BRAAAR)).

Chet: "So, like, why are we kidnapping this guy?"
Jennifer: "Don't you realize? This guy's honey pot is about to explode! Like screw those bombs we made this morning! Like they're gonna work anyway. We can hold this guy hostage and threaten to blow up the World Bank!"
Brad: "Is his honey pot that volatile?"
Jennifer: "Like, totally! As long as we keep this guy from getting laid, he has, like, the potential to level a city block."

The Anarchists lead Jimbo towards the World Bank headquarters, and don their Prada bandana face masks along the way. Amidst the chaos of the protests and police in riot gear, the fashionistas go unnoticed. They peg Jimbo down on a concrete pylon, the phallic object preventing the honey pot from immolating. Jennifer pulls out her megaphone (purchased at Target) and gets some attention. "Okay, like, everybody like listen up! You police state pigs better give into my demands, or, like, I'll pull this sad queen off the pylon and his honey pot will like totally explode!"

The mob falls silent, protesters and police alike. They gasp in unision as they gaze upon the poor guy piked on the pylon. The aura of sexual desperation around Jimbo betrays the truth, and they all know what Jennifer says is true. Most of the protesters flee in terror. The police have the sense to form a blockade around the building to keep onlookers and the press out of the potential blast zone.

"Call in the bomb squad, we've got a live one. We'll take care of the anarchists, but nobody touch the desperate queen!" The riot police gas the three anarchists holding Jimbo hostage. Jennifers' hopes of becoming sorority queen are dashed as the gas ruins her bleach job. As she's led away to the buses with Chet and Brad, tears stream down her face, totally like ruining her Revlon foundation and blush.

The bomb squad arrives in minutes, but none of them have the usual teflon/titanium body armor, bomb sniffing dogs, or defusion robots. These are specialists from the Special Honey Pot Unit (DCHPU), specially trained to deal with just such matters. Captain Zak Spears, clad in combat boots, camo cargo pants and a black tank top, surveys the scene. His deep basso voice rumbles, cutting the silence, "Yeah, looks like we got another honeypot turned firepot! I can take care of this one." Capt. Spears lumbers towards the lad on the pylon, determination in his eye. Jimbo twitches in response, eager to be rescued by the muscular federal agent. The last thing jimbo remembers thinking is: are Zak and Britney related?

To be continued...

Posted by jimbo at 10:20 AM | Comments (2)

September 29, 2002

notorious j.i.m.b.o.

On Saturday I got up to watch a rugby match against the Marines at the Quantico Marine base. I'm so sorry...I forgot to bring my camera! Quantico Daddy scrumhalf #9 was my pic of the day, but I'm partial towards scrumhalves. We're all the same size: 5'9", buzzcut, 155-170#, stout legs. This time the Marines played a sporty game and were gracious after the match. They even adhered to rugby etiquette and invited the Renegades to a post-match social. Quantico is quite the country club...their golf course alone is bigger than DC.

Got three female platys at the pet store afterwards to keep the male platys busy. Like Jimbo, the males get cranky when they don't get to quench their honey pot, and need lots of distraction to remain peaceful in the enclosed aquarium environment.

The roomate treated me to a movie later on, "Notorious C.H.O.". It was a gut-splitting stand-up comedy film by Margaret Cho. She spoke of her vagina and of course blessed us with impersonations of her mother.

Later that evening I went out to the Eagle and chatted with a few. Today I'll try to get out and bike around town. Hopefully the sirens and the protests are over. Our lovely protesting guests have been blocking traffic, lighting tires and have even been caught with explosives. My mind spins at the thought of how many tax dollars are going to overtime for the 3,000+ law enforcement officers on duty this weekend. However, they are keeping the peace.

Posted by jimbo at 1:25 PM

September 27, 2002

blessed are the gourdmakers

Blessed are the gourdmakers, for they shall bring brightly-coloured fruit
to your dinner party for fabulous autumn centerpieces.

Isiah 5: 26-29

Here's a pic from last weekend's trip to the Atlantic coast.

Catching up on some web work and resumes today. I got an interesting job lead about a richly-funded foundation in DC whose goal is to restore the urban forestscape in the city. Lord knows after living on the gingko-fruit coated Swann street I have some perspective and suggestions.

Last night was an unsuccessful foray to seek out BHI 3-5 at the Shirtless Men Drink Free night at the Lantern. I was having a nice chat with Jeff (BHI: 4), who remembered me from months ago when I worked there. We were talking it up the best we could in the crowd, when Miss Tina Twink appears and interposes herself between me and Mr. BHI4. I waited patiently for Miss Tina to defer back to the previous conversation, but alas she did not. Jittering and dancing all the while, she aggressively dominated the conversation for quite some time. Grrr...Miss Tina Twink is on the fast track to a quick trip down the stairwell some day.

Jason would like to voluntarily reduce his BHI quotient and donate .5 to 1.5 of his BHI to willing recipients.

Several hundred "protesters" were arrested today in downtown DC. No doubt they are going to scream oppression and bloody murder. However, it's not impossible to get your own license to hold a parade or protest, which they didn't do. Blocking traffic is also a crime, for good reason. Better to stage oppression and be able to brag about how you got arrested during your autumn vacation in DC.

Posted by jimbo at 1:15 PM | Comments (4)

September 26, 2002

robert conrad

Robert Conrad was totally hot. I remember watching "Wild, Wild, West" every Sunday at my grandparent's house. Every single episode had him tied up, hands above the head, totally shirtless with that wonderful chest fur (BHI: 3.5). Strangely, in almost every episode his sidekick Artemis was in drag. Gurl, there were some flames behind the scenes in Hollywood, even back then. I tried very hard at work today to find a shirtless pic of him tied up, but couldn't seem to find any.

Hmm...just realized younger Robert Conrad looked kinda like Fitz' squeeze Wil. (Oooh, wierd! Wil Smith, Wil Smith and Wild Wild West, and Robert Conrad! Totally like connected.)

I think Jocko will like these early surfin' beefcake shots of Conrad: with surfboard | killer smile

Honey Pot Fire Danger
'HIGH'
Today!

Hmm...Fitz just sent me this link to a pornucopia of vintage furry beefcake actor pics, such as Conrad and Connery.

Posted by jimbo at 4:58 PM | Comments (1)

hairy situations

Regarding the perfect 'Dream Job' I followed up on at USDA earlier this week. They were telling me in May that they would post this job announcement:

Jim: We are still planning on advertising this. I am sorry it has taken so long. Will let you know when it is posted.

Thanks hon. However, my address is changing soon. Please do let me know by sending an e-mail message to:
cardboardbox@totallybrokenow.com

I suppose I should approach tomorrows' day off from work with more positivity. I can get a lot of shit done at home, and then lounge the rest of the weekend. I can work on my pickpocketing skills at Union Station with large, unattended hippie backpacks. No doubt I could pilfer quite a few items of value:

"Mommy, someone stole ALL my credit cards! Can you send more?"

More from the Post:
A group of anti-capitalist and anarchist activists plans a "People's Strike," issuing calls to shut down the city by blocking downtown intersections, slowing traffic on the Capital Beltway and targeting corporate and government offices for small-scale protests.

Umm...the Capital Beltway never moves anyway, dummies. It's like the 2nd most congested traffic abyss in the nation. I suppose the protesters could bore the motorists to death with their dogma while they idle in the daily traffic jam.

Much talk about chest hair in the NYTimes. Genre featured the 'Daddy' issue earlier this summer. Jason breaks the mold with his wifebeater and furry shoulders. I'm so very glad. The proof in the pudding will be when we see more furry models in Vanity Fair and Vogue, which I haven't yet. The talk has been talked, now let's see the walk. You would think ending a three year relationship with a furry one would have sated my appetite for furriness, but it hasn't. Must go to the Green Lantern tonight...must seek out someone with a high BHI.

BHI? What's that you ask? Body Hair Index. It's my term to measure body hair extremes.

BHI Alert Levels:

0 - completely hairless, often Asian, female or twink
1 - light dusting in the usual places: pubes, pits and maybe on the legs
2 - small patch between the nips, light hair on arms and legs
3 - noticeable when wearing a wife beater, easily scruffy
4 - fur pokes over tee-shirt collar, arm hair may conceal watch bands
5 - glorious coat on the chest, totally furry arms and legs and ass, maybe some back hair
6 - bull-mongani, sasquatch, yeti

I prefer BHI factor 5 (the ex), but can range from 2 to 6. If you're between 0 and 2, you had better realize you're pretty special in other ways if I'm with you.

Posted by jimbo at 10:06 AM | Comments (9)

September 25, 2002

gap hippies dip into jimbo's pocket

I just got this in my work e-mail box:
As you know, groups against policies of the World Bank and the IMF plan major protests this Friday. These protests are expected to significantly disrupt city traffic and officials are advising that people not drive into the city if at all possible. After thorough discussion by the Executive Management Group, we have decided to close APA on Friday. The building will remain open as there are meetings and other tenants who will be here on Friday and the weekend. Staff who must be here for the meetings will be notified by your supervisor.

Now if I were a full-time APA employee, this would be a paid snow day. However, I'm a contractor, and if I don't work, I don't get paid. I'm contemplating bankruptcy, and a loss of a paid work day will be devastating to my bill payments.

Anyone see the direct relationship between an ill-conceived straight Gap-hippie circuit party and my life here? Now it's very personal and I'm far more pissed than I usually have been. I have to go talk to my friend Brian now about staircases and how large hippie backpacks affect balance...

Posted by jimbo at 11:30 AM | Comments (1)

planets of the universe

Stevie appears courtesty of the Thunderpuss version of Planets of the Universe which is running through my head at the moment. 'DANG, danga-da DANG danga-da DANG danga-da DANG -boom-boom-boom- You won't forget, you won't forget you won't forget..

I can tell if you're the oldest sibling. You will begin the 'oldest sibling' monologue whenever possible, which irritates the hell out of me. As the youngest sibling and a headstrong Capricorn, I know what the hell I'm doing, and I don't need your advice. I've already been watching you fuck up and observing how not to do things, so why are you telling me how to do it right? The oldest sibling speech consists of you telling me how to do whatever I've obviously been doing wrong in your eyes, and you will explain exactly how to do it the right way. I got the oldest sibling speech from what I had hoped was a job lead the other day.

I've been sending out e-mails to friends and aquaintances, specifically asking for leads and information about the types of jobs that I've been looking for. I am not asking for job counseling or resume critique, however. My resume has been combed over several thousand times by about a dozen or so friends in the eight months I've been underemployed. I know all the online job sources, and I comb job listings so thoroughly that I'll see the same listings in multiple places. So I'm doing a fairly good job with my current situation. However, I cannot force someone to give me a job, and from my experience the only time I've been granted interviews is through contacts. So I ask for contacts and leads.

A friend of a friend gave me a lead to this guy in a government agency, who urged me to give him a call. Hoping this person had news of a web-job opening in an international development agency, I gave this person a call. This person then began the oldest sibling diatribe:

"Have you checked out the OPM website?"
"Yes."
"Have you checked out Peace Corps?"
"Yes."
"Have you had your resume reviewed?"
"Yes."

And on and on it went, and soon the unctuous advice started flowing, with no actual leads. This has happened a few times before with other people. While I appreciate the assistance, I'd like to be given just a little bit of credit for utilizing my resources well before asking for help with leads, not advice. Don't insult me by talking to me like I've just graduated from a technical college with a certificate for small engine repair. More than a few of you have already seen my resume and have edited it, ad nauseum. I can network at a circuit party for chrissake!

Posted by jimbo at 10:35 AM | Comments (2)

September 24, 2002

buffy tonight

Is Buffy finally over her post-ressurection malaise? Is Willow's thirst for black magic sated? Will Anya and Xander kiss and make up? How will Spike handle his new soul? Will Dawn please stop whining? We'll learn all this and more at 8pm at Brian's house where he will be cooking poor Jimbo a lovely light dinner with tasty crackers.

Tonight we may go shake it for a bit at Cobalt for some reason. Why Tuesday? I don't know.

Posted by jimbo at 9:48 AM | Comments (4)

September 23, 2002

a 'feel good' weekend

The weather was very pleasant at the beach, although I was plagued by a hacking cough all weekend a la Satine. I managed to lightly burn myself on the beach in under an hour. Much of the time was consumed by the evil DVD player of endless sci-fi imagery. We watched Blade II (frikkin' TIGHT!), several episodes of Stargate SG-1, and the Sci-Fi channel's version of Dune in its entirety.

After going out to three different bars, we decided it was a 'feel good' weekend. That means that there ain't that much to check out on the beach or in the bar, and you happen to be the cutest thing there. It makes you 'feel good'.

Posted by jimbo at 9:53 AM

September 20, 2002

we were talking about you

Still packin' for the beach, leave at Noon today. Didn't get too crazy with Donald last night, but it was cool to meet up and discover a secret, hidden bar on 17th street that I had walked by a thousand times.

Were your ears burning? We had a nice chat about you and you and you. Jason has two daddies, and you know you're a gorgeous lesbian when two gay men are talking about you from another city.

Want to know when your favorite show is on the down and out? Check out jumptheshark.com to know when the defining moment of your show's downfall will be.

Posted by jimbo at 10:07 AM | Comments (5)

September 19, 2002

a message to monica

Lewinsky, Others Seek Aid With Legal Fees:
Monica Lewinsky, Vernon Jordan and others ensnared in various White House independent counsel investigations have joined former president Bill Clinton and Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton (D-N.Y.) in seeking taxpayer reimbursement for their legal bills.

Dearest Monica and Bill:

Here's a special message from jimbo regarding your desire to reach into my pocket for money to cover the expenses for your hijinks in the White House.

There are plenty of wanton sluts in Washington, DC. I don't deny being one of them. However, I keep my business out of public buildings, and I generally keep them to myself. And I certainly wouldn't ask my fellow taxpayers to cover any expenses related to my tricking. Sure, I could wag my dick at George Stephanopoulos in the shower stalls at the Connecticut Avenue Washington Sports Club and have a little fun, but I'm certainly not going to ask the taxpayers to pay for my new gym membership if George squeals (and they do say she squeals) on me and I get my membership revoked.

Take your $80K a year salary and start saving up, honey, because you have a long way to go before you pay your legal fees. Lord knows you're saving money on those Healthy Choice dinners. Bragging rights for blowing the president have become expensive of late, and I'm so sorry for you and your troubles. And I do know how costly fine cigars are.

Kisses,
Jimbo

Off to the beach tomorrow by noon with My'ra. It's a "D&D" weekend at the beach. That means my gaming gang gets together, eats tons of junk food, go out and drink more than we can afford, and play for about 1 hour under the pretense of actual gaming. I may not go out too much as I'm still sicky with a cold.

Meetin' up with Donald tonight for a beer. We may go to JRs if my energy holds out, in hopes of pointing out some tragic ass, tommy jeans wearing, plucked eyebrow, two dwi mother fuckers. Sadly, while Bubba is in town this weekend, I won't be. Two Ford F-150's passing in the night...I suppose it's better that I won't be at the mercy of a werewoof on the eve of a full moon.

Posted by jimbo at 10:51 AM | Comments (2)

September 18, 2002

@ home sick

Whoa...sick at home today coughing up lung cookies and sore all over. Read my horoscope and it was remarkably on-target:

If you are feeling tired and worn out today, dear Capricorn, simply go to sleep. Do not push your body beyond its normal limits. You will torture yourself in a most unhealthy way if you insist on doing more than you are capable of. Even a quick nap in the middle of the day will serve you quite well. Refresh yourself with plenty of water and a quiet time at home.

OK! No problem! I'll nap the day away! Soup, juice, and plenty of water. Anything you say.

Got a note from the ex last night about some crucial mail at his place intended for me. Apparently I missed a call for jury duty, as I neglected to change my drivers' licence address. I'll deal with the DC DMV next week...nothing more fun than going to the greatest bureaucratic black hole in the universe with a cold.

However, it was kismet that he dropped a line. I had been thinking about getting back in touch with him as I feel I am "ready" now, if that makes any sense.

Off to the beach on Friday for a cheap stay at Manny's condo in Ocean City. Hopefully I'll feel better by then.

Posted by jimbo at 12:28 PM

September 17, 2002

jake's new hobby

Jake the kitty's got a new hobby. Fergot to mention I bought a few cheap platys (small, brightly colored livebearing fish from the killifish family) this weekend.

Posted by jimbo at 6:54 PM

pride, a deeper love

Arrgh, urrgh...decision making hurts! However, I had to turn down yesterday's offer. They shot really low with their initial salary offer. While I had thought I had guessed wildly in the initial interview, after some research I realized I had not sold myself short with my initial quote, and it was also low for the industry and Madison techie jobs in general. I offered my lowest possible quote, keeping the 2002 Earth Destroyer and debt in mind, and judging by the resolution in the guy's voice, their first offer was probably about all they could handle. Listen, honey...just because I have an environmental education degree doesn't mean I took a vow of poverty. Like Aretha says: I've got bills to pay! Go find yourself some squeaky-clean kid fresh out of commencement ceremonies to do the work for that much!

To make things easier, when I got home last night I got some heaven-sent perspective in the form of a voice mail message from a web temp company about an upcoming gig. Two offers in one day! Both were so essential in keeping up my ego and self esteem, and one helped me decide on the other.

They would have really had to pay me some fantastic money to make me leave DC. I really don't want to leave...my heart is here in this messed up gub'ment ghetto antrhax-ridden crack town we know as Washington, DC.

Thanks though, to all of you who gave advice and support during this 24-hour period where my braincase was full of bumblebees.

Posted by jimbo at 4:22 PM | Comments (1)

September 16, 2002

an offer...

Holee shit...just got a call and an offer for that job in Madison, Wisconsin. However, the salary offer leaves something to be desired. Anyone know of a salary comparison table/website? Must...do...math. Must...make...difficult...life...decision.

Posted by jimbo at 5:11 PM | Comments (9)

wet dreams

As is usual on the eve of making big decisions, I had several memorable, stressy dreams last night. One of the dreams took place in a tacky maroon 50's style rambler home. The rugby team was upstairs. I was downstairs a la Alice from the Brady Bunch doing laundry. I was sneaking out to hang up the laundry on the clothesline, when coach 'caught' me sneaking around. Hmm...am I guilty about something?

Damn, it must be Attack of the Writing Muse today...lots of inspired writing:
 ´   ´   ´   ´ 


I don't know what the hell this is from (other than Glenn's site), but it's another test to see how 'mad' you are. I cannot agree more with the results, especially the first line:

i have issues. but i also recognise this fact and do what i can to resolve those issues. i may have spent a long time letting those issues control me, but now i'm ready to take the upper hand and wonder about the world around me. i'm getting to be well-balanced, but i'm not quite there yet.

Posted by jimbo at 10:46 AM

September 15, 2002

2002 Mazda Monkey

Awaiting sale appraisal of my car in the waiting room of the Carmax in Laurel, George Michael's "Monkey" (extended remix) was playing on the Muzak station:

Why can't you do it? Why can't you set your monkey free?
Always givin' in to it, do you love your monkey or do you love me?

Now that I'm comfortable with the idea of selling the car, I'm still not ready to go out and do it. I still keep thinking something's gonna come up, right after I sell the damn thing. No one responded to my ads, so I'm gonna have to take some loss from The Man. To their credit, they really were hassle-free, and the money I lose from selling it with them may make up for me being the go-between between a private buyer and the bank.

I played a whopping 15 minutes in the consolation match after the main game on Saturday. I still can't believe my performance is so bad that I can be downgraded from scrumhalf, to wing, and ultimately to the sidelines. About half of the players in the main match have only a season under their belt, and I know I'm in better shape than most. My loss of mojo can be attributed to all the other things on my mind, and possibly the injury I took in March. However, that doesn't explain my awesome game in June. I guess it's easier to fall from grace in the coaches' eyes than to build up his confidence - or mine. When I'm good, I'm very good; but apparently I've been less than that. Anyone know of a good sports psychology book I can read?

Right now I don't need the distress from wondering about my game, and have been considering taking the season off. I keep wondering if my mutilated face during the three interviews I got this spring may have contributed to not getting any of those jobs. I don't want any x-factors getting in the way with the bread and butter, so I may have to chalk it up to yet another adjustment to my current situation.

Posted by jimbo at 9:34 PM | Comments (1)

September 13, 2002

ridin' the 3rd rail

Eeew...glad I was late [again] this morning. When I arrived at Union Station, I guess I passed by the body of a man who jumped onto the tracks from the platform. There was a lot of paramedics, cops and firefighters about...I just scooted by to avoid whatever was going on.

Posted by jimbo at 4:38 PM

smart/stylish, DC/NYC

From J. Lileks' site, a treatise on style and smarts in DC and NYC:

"Smart stylish people end up in New York. Smart people whose spasmodic attempts at style were periodically successful, in that million-monkeys-typing-and-producing-Hamlet way, end up in DC. There are, of course, enough exceptions to either rule to prove me a lazy idiot, but in general that's how it works. Put it this way: there's no penalty for being beautiful and stupid in New York, and no penality for being smart and unstylish in DC. "

Painfully true. We are just not cool or stylish here. DC is a city of government wonks and computer geeks. Many of my cooler, stylish friends have left or plan on leaving. Read his log entry from 9/13 for more of his tasty juice on our cities. I survive here because I'm just not that cool, but I like to hang out with the cool people. I'm not cool enough to desire living in NYC, but far too cool to move back to, say, Rock Island, Illinois.

Posted by jimbo at 11:25 AM | Comments (2)

September 12, 2002

oops, won't do it again

Ooops! I got a friendly reminder from a certain local organization to get my lazy-ass bandwidth stealin' self from serving up their image on my weblog. I guess I'll be sure to be a bit more careful next time...it could have been the WWE that sent me a friendly reminder. Even in this day and age, cowboys still don't like it when you rustle their cattle.

Speakin' of wrasslin', here's my new favorite professional wrestler, Chavo Guerrero. I better get Richard to teach me some Spanish right quick. Como se dice: "Pin me hard and fast, caballero"?

Another hottie, Pat Burrell of the Philadelphia Phillies, couresy of Bubba. Quite a worthy desktop image for your home computer.

Home Match vs. North Bay
Saturday, September 14, 2002 ´ 2 pm
Kenilworth Park

I'm not starting again, but will likely sub in at some point.

Posted by jimbo at 11:15 PM | Comments (3)

billy & chuck's big gay wedding

Now back to our regularly scheduled silliness:




You are cordially invited to attend
and witness the same-sex wedding between

William Gunn
and
Charles Ronald Palumbo

September 12, 2002
on Thursday, 7pm Central on UPN

R.S.V.P. the Family of World Wrestling Entertainment, Inc.

 

Posted by jimbo at 9:48 AM | Comments (22)

September 11, 2002

nationalism

National Airport, Sept. 01
National Airport, Washington, DC.
A week after the attacks.

Posted by jimbo at 11:30 PM

late again, a year later

This morning I commemorated the anniverary of the attacks by doing exactly what I did a year ago: I was horribly late for work (Mike can attest to that fact!). Not only did my plan to work my legs out at the gym in the morning extend beyond my predictions, but when I got on the Metro to get to work, I missed my stop to get off. So I went all the way to Fort Totten, and switched back in the opposite direction. Then I missed Union Station again on the way back.

I guess I'm a bit absent-minded today.

Perhaps Gurl freaked me out about rumours that the metro system would get hit today. I had intended to ride my bike, but decided against that too. I can walk home if things go awry.

However, I'm not too messed up today, as far as my incredible powers of Scandanavian self-awareness allow me to percieve.

Sent a note out to the rugby team that my current temp job may be coming to an end soon. Messages of support and possible contacts poured in, which is nice. Last night at practice I approached the coach to ask why I didn't play much on Saturday. In the span of a year I've been demoted from scrumhalf to wing to the sidelines. He says my tackles haven't been very effective, and some games I'm just not there. I couldn't argue with either of his points. I guess I'll have to work harder on focus. Perhaps my mind isn't on the game like it used to be.

Posted by jimbo at 11:34 AM

September 10, 2002

need a hero?

While we were stretching at practice tonight I was looking up at a cargo jet far above DC. I'm happy to report that after a year I don't look at them with fear anymore. They're mostly just planes to me now.

However, the events that happened a year ago did have a pretty big impact on my life. Security concerns about the flight patterns over the White House from National Airport immediately after the attacks prompted Federal authorities to close the airport for several months. This resulted in a massive loss of revenue for my former employer, the quasi-private Metropolitan Washington Airports Authority. All departments faced cuts and freezes, and my contracting company was no different. The following February I was fired. Looking back I see that I was a convenient cut in the budget. I'm sure if it wasn't for the attacks I may not be in the situation I am today. However, it was a good change, as I wasn't too happy there anyway.

We were less than a mile and a half from the Pentagon, and when the smoke began wafting over the airport it smelled sour and acrid. A temmate of mine in the Navy assures me that's what burning jet fuel smells like, and I hope that's true.

I vividly remember seeing the smoke from the burning Pentagon in the rear view mirror of Shane's car as we evacuated the airport. Traffic was going so slow, it almost seemed like I watched the smoke for hours. People were walking calmly on the sidewalk, around our car, all generally walking South. Eve, Shane and I shared disbelief as we listened to reports on the car radio during our exodus.

I consider myself lucky to have had a few circumstances that may have expedited my mental and emotional recovery from the attacks. One was that I had two coworkers from involved countries. One was Arab, the other Afghan. I had known both for some time, both were normal guys, with moods and habits all their own, if not a with a funky accent. It put the attackers in perspective to me: the attackers were fanatics, and my coworkers were people. I was automatically forced to percieve both ethnic groups as people with motives and ideals instead of generalizing Afghans and Arabs as "those attackers".

I'm fortunate not to have lost anyone too close in the attacks, but I was familiar with two of those lost. I shared a ride in a truck to the emergency room with Mark Bingham after a rugby-related accident the spring before. We didn't chat much...I was concerned my chin was going to fall off, and he was painfully concerned with his dislocated shoulder. But learning of his departure from our world made the reality of the situation hit home sooner. I think I was a bit ahead of the curve in dealing with the losses a week or so afterwards.

And thank God Manny offered up his condo in Ocean City for free the weekend after. It was a great blessing to get out of DC to the oceanside refuge.

I remember my neighbor walking his dog across the street with his partner. They weren't too social, and I never knew he was a pilot. But watching his partner pack away his stuff in the U-Haul in early November was a sad thing to see.

Reminiscing about the attacks of last year make me think of my choir director from high school. She shared some of the most valuable and memorable seeds of wisdom that I retained from those years. We lost three classmates from a tragic car accident, followed by two classroom days of mourning. Finally, she got up and started playing on the piano, encouraging us to stand up and start practicing for the upcoming concert. She had lost a child recently to miscarriage, and shared some wisdom with us that day: it's best to get up and and move forward.

Not to belittle the heroic efforts of many a year ago, but here's a fun fantasy/comic hero generator I fooled around with today, should you need a distraction from the dramarrea. It takes a while to get the hang of it, but I created Micah, a caped crusader with a huge broadsword and a chakram, just like Xena. He's furry like Wolverine, with a beard and greying temples like the original Green Lantern. Baggy denim jeans for freedom of movement, and a handy utility belt too. Hope you like him.

Posted by jimbo at 10:37 PM | Comments (3)

trustafarian gathering confirmed

Yep, it's confirmed...the Gap Hippies will be descending on DC again at the end of this month. They plan on "shutting down" downtown DC again this year. Pissing off DC, MD and VA residents while they're going to work will really get your anti-globaization message across to the right people. Shaniqua, Larita and Gurelle will be so impressed by your selfless activism, especially when they're late for work after dropping their kids off a daycare and there's a traffic jam downtown due to your worldly message. I hope you all find some really good weed while you're here for your straight college-kid circuit party.

Still kinda stumped on what to say that hasn't already been said before, ad nauseum by myself or others. More tomorrow, or maybe not. To celebrate the anniversary, there are motorized missile transport units all over the city. It's just like in CivIII when the French are threatening my borders!!! I always put motorized transport units at my borders! Welcome to Washington, DC!!!

Posted by jimbo at 10:24 AM | Comments (3)

September 9, 2002

dramarrhea week

Last night I tried to write something poignant and well-written about this coming Wednesday, but I fell short on both goals. I'll look over what I wrote tonight and have another crack at it.

Must work on resumes again, must get job. Insurance runs out in November, and my temp job at the APA may be coming to an end. Keep yer ears and eyes peeled for me!

Hmm...spotted several Trustifarians with [Gap] bandanna do-rags, [Banana Republic] distressed overalls, [North Face] backpacks, smelling of [Whole Foods] organic soap (At least the not-showering fad has passed). I guess it's protest du jour time again in the city. So appropriately timed, for the second year in a row. Them protesting globalization right around 9/11 is like me screaming about preserving salmon habitat at my aunt's funeral. Just not appropriate at the moment. When Jimbo, the Undisputed Master of Failed Tact and Struggling Diplomacy Skills can comment on your timing, you know you need a better PR director.

~CRACK!~ ' keerunch '
{ grrrup! } ` CREEEAK `
Aaaahhh...finally a visit to the chiropractor. Strong hands gripping my head, forcing it from one side, then to the other with a deep crunch. Turn, and repeat to my lower back. Cool blue liquid fire running from the base of my skull down to my ass. Full 180-degree freedom of head movement, my torso can now undulate like a snakes'. I'm probably an inch taller. Until my next appointment on Thursday that is.

Posted by jimbo at 10:06 AM

September 8, 2002

a fine weekend

My phone interview Friday went well, and my only weaknesses during the interview were my tech support skillset and possibly my salary request, which I didn't research before the call. I hope I balanced my salary target for an environmental nonprofit in Wisconsin in comparison to having worked for an inflated contractor salary in DC. We shall see...no need to put the cart ahead of the horse, but an offer would be nice!

Our match on Saturday was disappointing, as I really believed we would challenge them. Most of the team arrived bereft of their rugby skills, which only seemed to kick in the second half. I only got to play the second part of the second half, which was also disappointing. I'm hoping it was due to a shitty showing the week before at practice, as I was sick and nursing my fucked up hand. I'll work harder this week. Again, our cardio needs improvement, and I'm crestfallen that many of our veteran players again ignored pre-season cardio training. It must be done outside of practice, as skills training must be focused on during the practices!

The social was fun, and I had a few too many beers. I went home to sleep it off afterwards, and awoke in time to go to one of the rodeo dances in town. I was just observing with my evil sister Drucilla, as neither of us felt energetic enough to pursue the boys in Wranglers. However, it was a lovely day for rugby, somewhat cool and sunny.

And today was a lovely, clear day at Camden Yards. Al, Shane and myself
drove up with high hopes of seeing and stalking Brad Fullmer. However, Brad was nowhere to be seen. With the binocs we were able to spot new inductees into the baseball stalkee hall of fame, including the Orioles' relief pitcher Buddy Groom and the Angels' Ben Weber. Woof.

Posted by jimbo at 10:02 PM

September 6, 2002

sharing, giving, tricking, bucking

Feelin' a lot better today. I went to practice last night, although I didn't participate. Just helped clean up and did some drills with the new scrumhalf for a bit. Apparently I caught the same bug that pretty much went through the entire team - literally (talk about Blogarrhea) . It's like dating 14 men at the same time...we tend to share what we have.

Speaking of sharing, apparently one member of our team has been excelling at his duties as recruitment chair...or at least the welcome wagon portion. I wouldn't normally give a shit except that he tries to date after the trick, which leads to drama and the recruit not returning to practice. On the one hand, if that's the only reason the recruit came, good riddance. On the other hand, the recruitment chairs' every act should be to recruit and retain players and members. I volunteered to put a kind word in with the fellow, and to remind him how one old member handled doing half or more of the team very quietly with minimal drama. 'sigh' We may appear butch, but we're still a big bunch of girls.

Speaking of girls, it's gay rodeo weekend here in DC. I would roll my eyes at this affected hypermasculine archetypical drag, but then again I'm on a gay rugby team. Once, when I went to Remington's, I overheard a sibilant, Cosmo-sipping queen, cigarette in hand a la Lauren Bacall who quoted in the direction of some cowgurl on the dance floor:

"She's no cowboy!"

Thanks for filling us in, Tex.

Mmm...I wish to see Bubba in his Wranglers and cowboy boots again. Mmm...Bubba butt.

Oooh...my aquarium filter came in today. It's HUGE! Must run home immediately after work to set it up. Soon, very soon, I will have fishies.

Phone interview for the job in Madison at 2pm today. Don't you dare call me or walk into my office during that time, or I'll disembowel you with my gaze alone.

Posted by jimbo at 10:33 AM | Comments (5)

September 5, 2002

wiped out

I'm at home today feelin' a little bit under the weather today. I must have caught whatever bug was plaguing Will Tuesday night at practice. He was pukin' up a storm and looked paler than usual. We'll see how I do tonight at practice myself, as I'd still like to go as there's a game this Saturday.

Worked out at the gym last night and felt the bug kickin' in as I was lifting, and rode home feebly on my bike. I was riding up to a blind corner of the sidewalk and saw two guys around the corner and braked just in time. However, I couldn't brake with my right hand as it's fucked up, and only used the left brake - which stopped the front tire. The rest of the bike and myself kept going, and we both flew into the pavement. Just a few scrapes though, and I managed to miss the two guys, who were merely startled.

Posted by jimbo at 1:25 PM

September 4, 2002

interview Friday

Ohboyohboyohboy! I have a phone interview for a job on Friday! Sorry gurls, I won't dally long for a beer at Titan or the Tool Shed for too long Thursday night. Gotta get my rest.

2002 being The Year of Complex, Fucked-Up Shit for Jimbo, this can't be a simple thing either. It's for the web job in Madison I applied for a few weeks ago. Madison, Wisconsin, you may ask? Yep, that very same Madison.

I'm terribly tickled to have the first interview in almost six months. The job market is that bad right now. My phone has not been ringin' all that much, either by employers or men. That will give you an idea why I would even think about applying for a job in Badger Country.

All arguments aside, it would be comitting relationship suicide. The quality men like the ones I like to meet in DC have all moved from Madison. All that's left are young undergrads, rife with coming out issues, and grad or PhD candidates, who will have nothing to talk about but their thesis or study focus. Then again, there are plenty of gurls in DC with coming out issues, and plenty more far too focused on their jobs on the Hill.

I'd be closer to my family, and close enough to Chicago for a little fun from time to time, and near some old friends. But this is all putting the cart ahead of the pony. I'll give y'all an update on Friday.

Posted by jimbo at 4:24 PM

cancellcations

On that note, due to the baseball strike cancellation, Shane and I will be seeing some of this at Camden Yards in Baltimore this Sunday.

Posted by jimbo at 12:10 PM | Comments (7)

recreation specialist

Mmm...another jimbo job, this time at the U.S. Naval Academy recreation center. Too bad the pay is crap. However, the benefits of doing the job right look...attractive:

This position is to enhance quality of life for the Single Military Personnel by providing a comprehensive leisure time program of social, cultural, recreational, athletic and fitness activities. The incumbentÝs primary duties are to manage the day-to-day operation of the Single Sailor/Marine Recreation Center and manage the Outdoor Recreation program including gear rental, outdoor skills development and outdoor adventure trips.

Dear USNA:

As manager of the Single Sailor/Marine Recreation Center, I will excel in and exceed your expections to meet the recreational and relaxation needs of single USNA students and officers.

Sincerely,
Jimbo

Posted by jimbo at 10:38 AM

September 3, 2002

assorted pics

Some assorted pics you've all been waiting for: the roomate, the aquarium, and Mark's cat.

Posted by jimbo at 11:33 PM

biker chick and undead pop menace

"Mommy! There's an Amazon biker chick and an zombie lady on MTV!"

Can either of these two excuse themselves for how they looked? Britney should at least have image consultants, but it's far too late for poor Michael. Jeezus, he truly looks like an undead menace straight out of the D&D 3rd Edition Monster Manual.

Argh...welcome back to the world of dating, Jimbo. Eventually one gets tired of being a hermit and playing CivIII, and realizes he must get out and do things with new people. Tricking just doesn't do the trick anymore, so to speak. You eventually want something more substantial. Friends are great, but you want to get deeper with someone (deeper, oh, deeper). Time to get my ass off ICUII and AOL and stop chatting with guys from Charlotte, Denver and Dallas as well.

But oh, the agony of it all. Trying to divine another's actions as statements, and vice verse can drive one insane...enough so to drive you back to that PC to see if you can conquer those pesky Romans again. Then there's the hit-or-miss dates, the ones you wish you never did. Of course there's the nice ones too. And the ones that, like a cancerous growth, slowly develop into a relationship, only to be aborted with a rusty clotheshanger by the backstreet doctor you called your boyfriend. There I go again. Maybe I'm still too bitter. Wait a month, don't pass Go, do not collect $200. Maybe I'll land on Park Place this time. And maybe I'll buy my own house.

Posted by jimbo at 5:09 PM

vengance golems

You see, Fitz, you are having dreams about golems because you are torn between going to temple on Saturday for Jewish New Year or attending the rugby match. The Rabbi's gonna sick his big 'ol clay golem on your ass if you go to the rugby match, but there's gonna be an ornery jimbo if you choose temple. You must choose: clay golem or jimbo. If you choose the golem, you'll need a +1 or better weapon to destroy it. I am the DM, and am indestructible. In fact, I'm a polymorphed Tarrasque.

A restful, but somewhat disappointing weekend. Apparently I need to work on my communication skills. Either that or I should buy a scooter...or talk to the rabbi about renting out his vengance golem. I also need to work on my darkvision...saw a guy at Lizard Lounge who was pretty cute, but once I brought him out into the light, he wasn't so cute. I think my imagination fills in the blanks sometimes.

Still no calls on the car, which is not suprising as I realized I placed the ad over a holiday weekend. The obnoxious fuckers at cartrader.com called me three times over the weekend. Each call was more obnoxious than the one before:

Jimbo: "Hello?"
Mack: (grating New Jersey Accent) "Hey, this is Mack from cartrader.com. I see your car is for sale. We would like to come over and take a photo of your car and post it on our website for sale. Can I have your zip code?"
Jimbo: (hmm...my car IS on a website...the pics are fabulous) "20001"
Mack: "And can I have your address".
Jimbo: (I haven't even agreed to do this, and he wants my address?) 'click'

I totally forgot to buy a new pillow while I was at Target this weekend, but I did get two top of the line buckets for the aquarium, and did manage to set up the aquarium too. Ordered a filter for it online, and soon it will be filled with fishies. I suppose I should get a picture of it.

Posted by jimbo at 10:37 AM | Comments (1)

September 1, 2002

vodka for the nouveau riche

Soggy, cool Sunday morning. This summers' inferno an old memory. Regeneration in progress, taking Jimbo Time today. Make breakfast, do some laundry, prep more aquarium stuff. Put in Kate Bush and Vince Gill on the box. A cool, quiet soundtrack for today's pace. Maybe I'll go to the gym, maybe I'll give my right thigh and hand a break. Cocktails tonight at Lizard lounge with Glenn, who gets to meet Brian, hopefully with talons withdrawn.

the first lawn dart victim?Richard points out the parallels between jimbo's newest piercings, the martyr St. Sebastian and lawn dart attacks.

Friday I met up with Glenn and an assortment of returned and medivaced Peace Corps Volunteers from the former Soviet Republics for an ill-fated outing to the pretentious Eurotrash district of downtown DC. I had to hold back as best I could from pointing out that the places chosen to go and hang out weren't quite suited for the tie-dyed, Birkenstock-wearing crowd, some of whom were on a feeble daily stipend. As it was, we barely passed the dress code to get into Ozio, a ghettofabulous nouveau riche martini and cigar bar. After learning about the $8 cocktails and the $120 bottles of vodka, we shuffled our birkenstocks elsewhere. We do not buy drinks to display weath...only to get drunk! Try to sell an expensive bottle of vodka to people who could buy the real stuff from Sergei down at the neighborhood kiosk for a dollar, and you won't get a positive response. The toilet looked like someone shat a pipe bomb in it, and they implied that we tip the bathroom attendant. Mmm...b'bye! We retreated from the cloud of overapplied, cheap cologne to a more laid back bar far for some yummy wheat beer and less attitude.

Quite a study in contrasts as we went to the cleaner, cheaper Cobalt to shake it a little and get in without a cover. DJ Rob gave me a free drink pass, and we shook it for a bit and went home. I guess the proprietors of gay bars understand that we expect more, and keep the bars in good shape. That and if the gurls aren't happy, they won't down the drinks, and that means less income. Every popular straight bar I've been to in DC has been a grimy, dirty, overpriced dump. Queens will not stand for that, and it shows in our establishments.

Posted by jimbo at 11:55 AM | Comments (1)