Good 'ol Gare...
My stepfather's good friend and co-worker from the "old days" is in town from Hong Kong. "Good 'ol Gare," my stepdad calls him. They used to run amok back in the '70s picking up all sorts of low-brow women, selling merchandise at my stepdad's uber trendy apperal stores, and doing lines of coke to feel good...not to mention the occasional story about "plinky dink," or some other not-quite alliterative but amusing name and the ass-kicking, womanizing, illegal fun they would have. Charming.
The day started out by meeting good 'ol Gare for breakfast this morning at Zumbro Cafe in Linden Hills (in South Minneapolis). I drove ahead of my family to secure a table (it took forty minutes)! Gare bitched about how expensive the food was (as breakfast was over, and now all breakfast items were a la cart on the lunch menu). I ordered lunch instead. Sliced turkey breast on sourdough with cranberry mayo. It was fantastic! Everybody else had equally good looking food but good 'ol Gare. He tourtured himself by ording the a la cart breakfast items and ended up racking up $15 in charges by doing so. Ah good 'ol Gare.
When the bill came my stepdad reached for it, but good 'ol Gare made growling sounds until he conceded. My stepdad wiped his brow and said, "damn, that is expensive," and good 'ol Gare growled some more. He payed it, satisfied with his new cross to bear.
Costco, Where I Can Find Four Gallon Crisco...
A new Costco opened up in Saint Louis Park, the first in Minnesota; although the concept of these membership driven discount stores is not forein: we do have Walmart's Sam's Club within the same suburb. However, I did have to see it, just in case they were handing out any free stuff in honor of their grand opening.
Nope, nothing free. I stood in front of the membership desk for my free one-year membership and stood in amazement at how many fat people shop at Costco. The place is like a fat magnet. This re-affirms my conclusion drawn in: Why are the people on food stamps always fat? Although, these people aren't probably on food-stamps: these are the people that are just one cast above.
I mean seriously folks, you've got a big fat ass. You kids have all got mini-big fat asses. Your spouse has got a big fat ass; and I bet your pet has even got a big fat ass. What the hell are you doing with that wholesale priced vending pack of Snickers Bars? For god sakes, go get something healthy— just because you went outside and got some excersize by huffing around Costco to buy some more calories, it won't make you and yours' asses any smaller!
A Couple of DLTs for Me, Please!
I also stopped by CompUSA today to see if I could find a 40GB/80GB DLT tape to verify the operation of a new backup device we got at the office. CompUSA has lowered itself to below the bar that a even a Best Buy filled with retards could never hope to get near to. They are horrible. I successfully roped a "salesperson:"
"Excuse me, do you guys carry any backup tapes? Specifically do you stock any DLT backup tapes here?"
"Um, sometimes. Look over by this stuff over there, then go back across the store to networking. If the junk your looking for isn't there then we don't got it. I have to go now."
Now, if this guy was sixteen and this was his
first job where he might had to learn how to flex that
people skills muscle of his: I would understand. This guy was at least forty five. What they hell did he have to do that was better than helping me? Check his pecker to see if he can still get it up? Hey, that leads me to a joke I heard on
A Prairie Home Companion tonight:
"Did you hear that Bush and Gore started taking Viagra? They never knew that they could hold out an election so long...
I ended up driving to the new Micro Center store (also in Saint Louis Park). They had the tapes. The salesperson was so nice I ended up buying a new Epson Stylus Photo 2000P. It's the one with the new pigment-based inks that when used in conjunction with their archival paper the prints are supposed to last for over two-hundred years. That's kind of cool. Finally I can move off of this Alps on-again-off-again dye-sub piece of crap.
Girlfriend...Why do I Have to Do Your Homework?
If you don't know why, you don't have a girlfriend. I left her apartment this evening with warm thoughts. Damn her and her womanly charms.