California Summer.

Hola everyone. Been in class all week. Now I'm on the fireline in the Napa hills. I have some great pics but I am clueless on posting from iPhone. Will catch up with all of your blogs soon.
Jake

Steve Jobs Ruined Me!!!

Can you please help me out? How have I arrived at this point and place in my life? Gone are the days of rampant underachieving and gross apathy. How I long for lazy Wednesday afternoons where I can contemplate excuses for my lackluster existence. I have an idea as to the cause of my dilemma.

Fuck you Apple Evangelists!!! Your creations of brilliance have ended one mans dreams of an aimless existence. You were not happy with bringing home computing to the masses. You targeted the young and old with catch phrases like plug and play, drag and drop, spring loaded, and what you see is what you get!!! You Bastards!!! You ensnared us all with a magic box that holds 8,000,000,000,000 songs! Was it enough? No I say, no it was not! You have exposed me to a poison worse than crack....



Because of you, I now know. . .

1. who
2. what
3. why
4. when
5. where
6. how
7. how come
8. how much
9. the repercussions if I do
10. the repercussions if I don't
11. the cost
12. the length
13. the width
14. the girth
15. Triple E
16. Double D
17. Quantity
    
18. Quality
19. Essence
20. Existence
    
21. Terms
22. Definitions
23. Decimals
    
24. Fractions
25. Factions
26. Actions
27. Auctions
28. Do's
    
29. Dont's
30. Wills
31. Wont's
    
32. and how to say Fuck in French.

So to all you selfish, no good, rotten bastards at Apple. . .

Futuere' !!!

Jake

I'm having Lucky Charms In The Morning.

As most of you probably know, tomorrow is Friday the 13Th. As luck would have it (no pun intended) I am working tomorrow. By my very nature I am not a superstitious individual. But considering that a good chunk of California is currently on fire, Jake here has decided to not take any chances. So tomorrow I will be carrying the following items around in my pockets.


(Don't ask me, Wikipedia said that a fucking acorn is lucky...who knew?)

You're probably thinking at this point, "Jake, won't your pockets be kind of heavy?" Well my answer is "YES". . . and that is the intent. Because really, none of these inanimate trinkets mean a fucking thing. But they will be a reminder to. . .


Have plenty of this around for unexpected "knocking"! . . .

to do this through out the day. (I hope the homies don't think I'm throwin' signs!). . .


avoid this. . .
steer clear of this little bastard. . .

and to keep an eye out for a guy swinging this,. . . .


while wearing this!!!


Happy Friday everyone and good luck. . .you'll need it!

Jake

The Late Call

Click On Image To Enlarge

Sittin' On A Dock On The Bay. . .

I have a friend named Ricardo. Everyone calls him Ricker. We have been friends for about fifteen years. Ricker and I have had a lot of really great times together. Over the years we have gone to a number of sporting events. I wouldn't say it's a regular thing, but we've been to enough that I have lost count.

Sunday morning Ricker called me and left me a voice mail. It went something like this...

"Hey Ja-***** ****** ******- ome tickets to th-** ***** ** *** *****-me tomorrow. It's Irish nigh-*** *** ***** *-, call me!"

"WTF?" was my response.

Now I called him back right away (I mean like 8.5 seconds later) but got his voice mail.

"Hey Ricker, I don't have a clue what the fuck you just said. I assume you want to go to the Giants game. Call me back dude!"

FASTFORWARD to Monday at about 2:30 in the afternoon. Ricker called me back.

"Dude the ferry leaves at 4:45, I'll pick you up at 4:00."

"Pick me up? What the fuck are you talking about?"

"What do you mean? Aren't we going to the Giants game? It's Irish night."

"Umm, aren't you Mexican?" I ask.

"Hey, I got a new green Dodgers jearsy. I gotta represent!" (he's a die hard Dodgers fan and hates SF)

"Ricker, the Mets are in town."

"?????. . . and. . . ?" Came Rickers response.

"How many times have I said to call me ahead of time so I can plan....."

"Yeah yeah yeah, I did, and you didn't answer!"

At this point I realize it's pointless to debate with him. So semi-reluctantly, I agreed. "Sure man, pick me up at 4:00."

Now if any of you have had the pleasure of going to a Giants home game you'll know that it's a pretty great time. They have a beautiful ballpark that sits right on the bay.


You can hop on the ferry, walk about a mile and a half, and you are there. After the game the ferry picks you up right at the park for the return trip. I've made this journey countless times and swear it's the only way to go to a game now. Fuck driving. Fuck traffic. Fuck parking in the city. They take you there, serve beer on the trip, and take you home afterwards. It's fucking great!

Ricker arrives about ten minutes late (very predictable). In short order he makes some wise crack to Mrs. T that sends her into a tailspin. With half a dozen expletives and a pointed finger, she orders us out. She cracks a smile at me and says "have fun, see you later."

The ferry trip takes about 45 minutes. The walk to the park takes a bit longer due to the number of bars flanking the route. The first regular stop in Gordon Biersch. They have great beer and great food.

Mmmmmmm!

This, is the view. . . .

The second stop is MoMos which is right across the street from the park. A few more caack-tails there and it's game time.

We had yet to buy tickets and the doorman at MoMos didnt' have any for that nights game. As we waited to cross the street I reminded Ricker that I only sit field level. I like to consider myself a baseball snob. Fuck the cheap seats! A scalper overheard us and offered us two tickets behind the dugout for $6 over face value. "Yeah right, fuck that! I'll give you $25 each." he babbled on about making a profit as I walked away. Another scalper overheard our exchange and told Ricker he'd sell us two "Club Level" seats behind home plate for $25 each. Ricker agreed and made the exchange. "Hey Jake check it out $67 dollar tickets for $25 each!" I'm pissed now. "Fucktard what did I say? ONLY FIELD LEVEL!" Well now, stuck with the mystery zone tickets, we headed into the venue. Up and up we went. Higher and higher into the wild blue yonder.

Now let me explain something. Ricker has completely ruined my concept of baseball. You would not believe where we ended up. A-Fucking-Mazing!!! Air conditioned concourse with some of the greatest food I have ever had. No steamed weenies or Budweiser here. Check this out!!!!!



Corned beef sandwiches and Guinness Draught made Irish night well worth it. I'll never be able to sit with the common folk ever again!!!! Ricker my friend, you are a bastard!!!

Be patient with me while a take a little side trip at this point. . .

To the 20ish dick in line at the Irish Pub line. "You are an asshole."

1. The backwards Celtics ball cap doesn't make you Irish.
   
2. The bad lucky charms accent you were attempting doesn't make you Irish.
3. Ordering a Black-n-Tan makes you look like a chick; (and no, not an Irish chick!)
4. Get off your cell phone and order your shit before I have to punch you in the back of the head.
5. FYI the girl you were trying to hook up with on the phone wouldn't meet you for a reason. . . , she's banging your older brother!

Sorry, where was I? Oh yeah, game ruined. I was enjoying the concourse so much that I only sat in my seat for about 20 minutes. I ate and drank like I had just been paroled from prison. I pretty much forgot that a game was even being played.

Now, In the seventh inning we remember that some guys from the firehouse have season tickets in the bleachers. Off we went, in search of our drunken comrades. It was futile. We never found em' and it was friggen cold in the outfield. So Ricker made a suggestion that we leave early and go back to MoMos for a few more drinks. "Trust me" he said. "The ferry doesn't leave until one hour after the game is over. We have pleanty of time!!!" Not so semi-reluctantly, I agreed.

After about forty minutes at MoMos I peel Ricker off the bar and head to the ferry. Can you predict where this is going? Yup, you guessed it. . . Ferry is gone and I'm looking down the barrel of a California Divorce. "HOLY FUCK RICKER, WHAT HAVE YOU GOTTEN ME INTO?"

"Don't worry dude, we'll catch a cab"

"Ricker, do you know how much a cab is going to cost?"

"Who cares Jake? It's on me!"

Yes, I let him pay! . . . . . One Hundred and Twenty Dollars!!!

But this story ends on a good note. We beat the ferry by five minutes and Mrs. T was peacefully asleep when I got home.

Enjoy your weekend everyone, I'm working.

Jake

Ten More Things I Learnt....

So my week has gone well. How are all of you? I had hoped to work an extra shift this week at the firehouse. But alas that failed to come through. You see, I am finding that I am way more productive there than at home. Mrs. T kicks the honey do list into overdrive when she knows I will be around for a few days. At work I ensure the equipment is up to speed, training is finished, and we are available for emergencies. Usually after 5pm ; pending calls, we are free to do our own thing. Even though I am at a busy house, it's easy to find quiet space to focus and be productive. Here are a few things that I learned this week....

1. A black man with a middle eastern name has a great chance of becoming President.
2. The guy at the Giants game on Monday with the Celtics hat turned backwards, is a dick. (Get off your cell phone prick boy and order, or get the fuck out of line!!!)
   
3. Walking twenty-five miles sucks a whole lot more than paying 4.25 for a gallon of gas. Thank Skid Jones for that little pearl.
4. If you drink enough, even a brain tumor doesn't stand a chance.
5. If you miss the last ferry home from San Francisco, a cab cost $120 to my house.
6. Hillary thinks there is O.T. and that she can kick a field goal and pull off a last second victory.
7. Twenty-one years of networking makes career expansion when you're older, a whole lot easier.
8. R Kelly really is a creep.
9. I'm old. Many of the students. . . sorry, correction. . .most of the students I will be teaching are younger than my son.
10. Arnold Schwarzenegger was a better actor than he is a Governor. As I recall he doesn't have a whole lot of thespian recognition. What next, are they going to elect a fucking wrestler?

See you all tomorrow. . .