These Boots Were Made for Stomping and Why I Hate Push-Cyclists

The above is a picture of the wonderful Doctor Marten Triumph 1914 fourteen eye Black Boot of Doom that I have decided that I Simply Must Have.

They are, as Dr. Echidna said, 'sexeh.' Best of all, they're only $150.00. I can't wait to get 'em. Next month, I'll be sporting the above boots and so will be prepared to kick people in the face or neck as the situation warrants.

Oh, and I hate push cyclists with a passion.

After work, I occasionally ankle my way across a bridge to go catch the No. 15 or 18 Downtown rather than take the ghastly 31 over to the University District where I transfer to another bus after an interminable wait and then transfer to yet another one at Jefferson and 23rd. It's an irksome commute that way.

Anyway, there is a narrow little flywalk for pedestrians across the bridge. Every evening, without fail, as I'm beetling along I hear a faint 'on your right' or 'on your left' or 'garble garble guh' from behind as some fucktard push-cyclist is riding along ON THE PEDESTRIAN PATH IN DIRECT CONTRAVENTION OF THE LAW.

Now, I don't claim to be overly concerned with whether or not people obey the laws. What they choose to do is their own concern and as long as it doesn't interfere with my day-to-day existence I couldn't give a faint half damn what they do.

Yet when some health nut decides to ride his push-cycle along the narrow pedestrian walkway rather than slither through traffic, I become irritable. It's not just there, either. You see them swerving in and out of pedestrians on sidewalks all over the bloody place. I've taken a Schwinn amidships because I hadn't an earthly that the fucktard was behind me.

And it isn't just them riding on the sidewalks that irks me. They irk me when they zoom along in their obnoxious swarms behaving like menaces to pedestrians and traffic. May their differential gears all rust and send them flying head over handlebars into a drainage ditch!

A pox upon their houses!

Enter the Critics Followed By A Disclaimer

On Friday, my friend Brent will be arriving at the Seattle-Tacoma Aerodrome for a weekend visit. His brother, Kyle, is here in Seattle for the summer and they are both very entertaining people with whom it is always a pleasure to biff around.

We have plans to go to The Mercury on Friday night after Brent arrives in town. For those who haven't an earthly what The Mercury is, I'll explain. The Mercury is a private goth/industrial nightclub on Capitol Hill in Seattle. In order to gain admittance, you must be accompanied by a current member and after going a number of times (roughly three to five - it depends on whether the doorkeeper remembers you), you pay ten dollars as a subscription and you're given right of entry. It's a great nightclub and I enjoy going there. It is blessedly free from such filth as Aberzombie and Fitch wearing meatheads and their poseur pseudo-Goth girlfriends. It is, in short, an oasis in the desert of ghastliness. Besides, the music is great.

Anyway, it should be an enjoyable time. On Saturday, we've discussed going to see Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. I have yet to see the movie and am looking forward to doing so. I enjoyed the book immensely and while I know that for the movie to be successful, parts will need to be excised owing to the massive length of the tome, I hope that the director will handle the story well.

Several of my friends and co-workers have seen the movie already and while I respect their right to form an opinion of the work, I can do without the unsolicited asseverations that 'the movie sucked!' or 'the movie was great!' that have been proferred. I'd like to develop my own judgement based on the merits of the movie without undue influence from others. I think that I am quite capable of forming an opinion of my own without input from anyone else. While I'm sure that it is well meant, please spare me the benefit of your wisdom until I, too, have seen the movie and am able to judge accordingly or unless I ask you directly for your opinion.

My apologies if I sound a trifle liverish, but there it is. If you think I'm directing this at you, you're most likely mistaken. However, should this assertion on my part fail to assuage your wounded breast, I'm sorry.

Monday Musings

Today is my roommate Peter's birthday. Thus, I'll take this opportunity to wish him a very happy anniversary of his nativity. I trust he'll have a pleasant year.

Yesterday, Peter and I put together the bookcase and I've restored most of my books to their home. Sadly, I need more shelving to contain them all. I hate leaving books in boxes. It seems quite criminal. We also wrangled my awful, rickety old computer desk into position and got Maude all set up which meant that we're now able to eat like normal human beings instead of grubbing over our food at our respective computers. Civilisation is so wonderful.

Tonight, my favourite former Marine, Brad, will be coming over to help me hang the curtains in the house. This will make the place look more homelike and less we've-just-moved-in-excuse-our-dust,-please. I also need to hang a few pictures and place various other objets d'arts.

I also really need to get my vacuum cleaner out of storage. Unfortunately, it's in Post Falls, ID - 300 miles east of Seattle so collaring it will be something of a treat. I'll have to check with various and diverse people to find out when they'll next be going over there or headed here. New carpets tend to shed a bit and I'd love to give the place a good hoovering.

I had the dickens of a time getting out of bed this morning. I was up late playing EQ2 (later than I should've been to be honest) and when I finally did go to bed the Hottentots in the apartments next door were carrying on regardless. Someone apparently was incapable of parking their Ford Behemoth 2007 without a ground crew to direct them - the direction consisting of bawling, 'Bring the wheel over! No! The other way!' at the top of their lungs in an open garage at 2 in the ack emma accompanied by the squealing of fan belts and tires on pavement. This went on for what seemed like a veritable geologic epoch.

I hope that their Behemoth 2007 flips and bursts into flames like the Canyonero. Preferably ONTO the ground crew.

Jackasses.

What do you want to bet that these are the same people who listen to their infernal house music at incredibly high volume at all hours?

I hope they catch elephantiasis, sprue, a raging quinsy, AND dropsy!

I think I'll start keeping a supply of bricks on hand so I can bung them in their general direction as needed.