floorpie

Victim of my own Success

I archive by hand, and in so doing today I noticed that I have nearly a year and a half of archived stuff…and stuff. That’s rather obscene isn’t it? It makes me wonder where that amount of drivel would have otherwise gone: probably into the ears of what would now be my ex-friends.

One year and five months is longer than most relationships. It doesn’t break my personal record (6 years), but it’s still a sizeable amount of time. In fact, it would be fairly safe to say that I’ve had greater luck in the digital, virtual realm than in the flesh-n-blood one.

Well now I’m depressed.

My name is David Kleeman (clee-mun)

Ways my name has been mispronounced:

– David Clemen

– David Clean-mun

– Mr. Cleeeeean…man

– David Kill-mun

– Keyser Soze

Me: Ooooooooooh, bustedddddddd

Penthouse: Dude, it’s not that big a deal

Me: Whatever man, you’re totally screwed.

Penthouse: Damn, you think so? I thought people would be stoked to see some nudie pics…

Me: Yeah, but yours weren’t even Anna. I mean when Pam made her video, it was definitely her, and it made her look totally hot. Yours were some retail heiress chick, and she didn’t even look all that great.

Penthouse: and there’s the rub

Me: and there’s the rub…

I return.

Had a great LA weekend as usual. Mountain biking, Spiderman, Cinco de Mayo fiesta…and oh yes, that interview. It went really wll, but I’m not inclined to take it. It’s not really going to lead in the direction I want to go. Back to the drawing board…

Happy Birthday Dad!

Things I abhor (where “things” means the 1st one with the other 4 as filler), First in a Series:

– Repetitive radio commercials. The kind that repeat the number for the law offices of Richard Head over and over. That’s 1.800.555.5666. 1.800.555.5666 That number again is 1.800.555.5666

– Repetitive radio commericals. The kind that repe…oh wait

– Customer “service” of any kind. If you don’t really care, why would you say, “How can I help you?”

– Putting my pillow cases on my pillows after washing them. I don’t know…it just always seems like such a Herculean effort to me.

– Repetive radi…damnit!

Discuss…

I have a phone interview tomorrow afternoon…four months after being laid-off. Having talked to other people about their experiences, though, I’m rather pleased with how quick that was.

In other news, School Orders ‘Thong Check’. Ahh, what a tangled web we weave.

I was reminded of my now-distant technology past today by meandering through the blog of my favorite fellow UCSB alum, Tony (aka T-dog, Tony-P, and Big-T [all unbeknownst to him as we’ve never met]). Through him, I found the awesome text-based game for the zealously satirical Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.

I vaugely recall spending hours on games like this, pirated between friends on 5 1/4″ floppy disks (please say someone out there remembers 5 1/4″ disks), sometime back in the 80’s. I thoroughly suggest you go play the game, as it’s astoundingly frustrating. For those of you weaned on Quake and The Sims, you will find it particularly horrid. Here’s a sample excerpt:

It is pitch black.

>kill myself

Done.

***You have died***

and so it goes…

I know this will amaze some of you, but there was a time when computer games had no graphics. In fact, computer anything didn’t have graphics, and it was all displayed on a gloriously banal monochromatic screen. You’d think that would get boring fast, but somehow it didn’t…and it hasn’t for the last 20 minutes I’ve been trying to remember how to beat this game…

(Hint: before you punch your screen in, lie in front of the bulldozer and wait, wait, wait, wait)

You’re jealous

Although she meant it as a kind of joke, I think it’s awesome. That’s right, that’s me sporting a cheezy St. Louis, Missouri shirt that ADG bought me during a recent layover there. If you know me at all, you know that when it comes to T-shirts, the cheezier the better (though it has to be that quietly cool cheezy, not a Spuds McKenzie cheesy).

This gift was particulalrly apt too, as it is a little known fact that I was actually born in St. Louis, as opposed to Compton as is commonly believed.

Oh, and for more Dave-trivia: did you know that besides the 5-minutes that I was born in St. Louis, I’ve never actually been there? Tis true, tis true. Tune in tomorrow for more trivia, and the answer to the Big Question, “Dave, how many dads do you really have?”

Well, as I had feared, I am not 16 anymore…though I unabashadly rocked-out anyway.

Green Day was awesome, working the crowd and sounding nearly as good as they do on their albums…rare for a live punk-lite show. Blink 182 was also good, though their vocals were mixed down to the point of near imperceptibility. Then again, the raised, then rotating, drum kit was pretty rad, and harkened back to good ol’ Motley Crue dayz.

Other notable Mc-dealies:

– while in line the 16 year old guy who ripped off his shirt (and all of the buttons holding it closed in the process) in preparation to fight a girl that he thought might have maybe said something offensive towards or near him. Idiot.

– The young couple in front of me who despite looking underage, got their hands on enough beer to keep them fueled for making-out through the entire 5 hour show… (not a criticism. a jealous observation. sigh)

– parents, parents, parents! Many sets of parents, sitting several rows away from their kids, and taking the inconvenient playing time as an opportunity to go buy T-shirts, buttons, and posters without lines (save for the other parents, of course). I don’t remember this happening when I was 16. (more jealous observations)