I can't be held responsible for the things I say or write...


the you gotta be fucking kidding me update

so vacation time has come and gone. all around, it was great to go home, spend some time with the family, play a lot of mario strikers charged on nintendo wii, light fires in the fire place, take the niece to the aquarium and do some sled riding with her, etc. plus opening presents is a pretty good time. but you know, it doesn't really provide good writing or reading material.

it's been a while since i've been out on the internet and there really didn't seem like much reason to come back. after all, writing a boring entry isn't much better than reading a boring post...and i was feeling a little like that's where these things were going of late. that kind of depressed me. you know, not much going on, no kickball wars, frisbee success, blacked out drunk stories etc to discuss. what really is the point of all of this if it's just an update about my day.

unless my day goes like this:

9:30 am: wake up and pack the remainder of my stuff in the car
10:15 am - breakfast
11:15 am - leave the house for the dentist
11:45 am - arrive at the dentist, conveniently located on Elm St. Not making this up. Kindly, the appointment was short and easy...but there was something remaining in my head about being on Elm St. that wouldn't get out of my head.
12:10 pm - Realize that the highway I want to get on is backed up, so instead of taking the close entrance that will put me a mile further back, i take some side streets to enter at a different point. the first road i turn down is a dead end...or an omen, you look at however you want.
1:15 - arrive at my friends place in New Jersey. I was visiting a friend before I was going to head back to DC. I figured I would stay until 4. Sure, this was taking a slight risk because I would be leaving at the beginning of rush hour, but hey, it's the day after Christmas, it might be bad, but nothing like a Thanksgiving rush hour.

So our story starts at 4:05. I hit the road and once I hit the highway, I'm stuck in traffic. However, this is just for a toll and 1 mile and 15 minutes later, I'm through and into the clear. Next stop: New Jersey turnpike.

There are 2 options on the turnpike: cars only or cars and buses. Now, I'm a fucking moron for many reasons previously told here in the past. But this was just another example. The choices were "Roadway Closed" or "Cars, Trucks and Buses." Some cars were still going into the roadway closed way, so I went for it. The roadway was open, but this was the turnpike's way of telling you that it was not a good idea to drive down it. So I'm all like "I guess no one will go this way and I'll be in the clear." I was wrong.

About 4 miles into this, I'm in bumper to bumper traffic. It's about 4:50 at this point. The turnpike backs up here (around exit 9) because after exit 8A, the 2 lanes of Cars, Trucks and Buses merges with the cars only lanes in one major cluster fuck. So I know it's going to be a delay, but it was pretty horrendous how far back it starts. So at this point, the cars and trucks in the right lanes are flying by and i'm just sitting there trying to stay calm and tell myself I'll be out of this sooner rather than later.

Later was more like 6 pm. It took 1:10 to go 10 miles. That was pretty, pretty shitty. So once the merge takes place around 6 or 6:10, the road opens up a little and things are getting better.

Until one of those fucking signs on the overpasses says, "Major Congestion at Exit 1. Use 295." So I was all, "that's what I'll do." I couldn't stand to sit in any more traffic. So I make a few calls and finally get in touch with Nighthawk Naylor, who, thankfully, tells me to get off at exit 4, which I'm at right there. So off onto 73 South I go, which I'm told will hit up with 295 in a few miles.

For Christmas, one of my presents was a GPS machine for the car. It didn't so much help me out in this situation because it kept telling me to do a U-Turn, presumably to head back to the Turnpike, which I was not going to do. So after 30 minutes, I'm still driving down 73 South when the GPS telling me to veer off onto another random road. I decide this can't be good because there is still not 295 in sight. I do start to think that I'm heading pretty close to Atlantic City. I pull out the map and decide, it's time to turn around and follow the GPS machine. I'm thinking that I just didn't know about a turn off that would send me to 295. So following the GPS, I get onto the Atlantic City Expressway toward:


At this point, I've just driven 45 minutes in the wrong direction and am now heading back to my own personal hell that is the New Jersey Turnpike....oh, and it's 7:15 and I'm STILL IN FUCKING JERSEY. 3 hours into what is a 3.5 hour drive (because I'm heading into the doctor's parents house in Md.) and I'm still in fucking jersey...and freaking the fuck out.

This was the first time that I realize that I'm screaming at the top of my lungs that I'm in Jersey...oh, and I'm driving about 95 in a rain storm on a crowded highway. This is also about the time I decide that I'm literally willing to drive off the road to avoid being in New Jersey any longer and thankfully dead only to realize that I'd probably live and when I woke up, I'd still be in a fucking hospital in Jersey...of course, then I start thinking that when the ambulance arrived at the scene of the accident, to tell them to either take me to delaware or pennsylvania or let me fucking die.

So I finally get back to the turnpike and find myself just north of exit 2. 45 minutes later and i'm 2 exits further down the road. I'M STILL IN FUCKING JERSEY

BANG go the knuckles into the roof of the car.

This is the point at which the doctor calls to see how my drive is going. I went on a fuck laced tirade for at least 2 straight minutes of just yelling into the phone about how i wanted to die, about how every motherfucker that drove on the turnpike today should be murdered and about how a bomb should drop on the fucking turnpike and kill us all. She was surprising supportive, which was nice. I started to perk up a bit. After all, this "Major Congestion" wasn't there at all...so I go off for what appeared to be no fucking reason at all.

After hanging up with the doctor, I started to feel a little better until about 30 seconds later because it's 7:30 AND I'M STILL IN FUCKING NEW JERSEY.

The great mercy of 7:57 comes around and I finally arrive in Delaware. Sweet Merciful Dela...FUCK FUCK FUCK

Halfway up the bridge, I am in fucking stopped traffic because of the toll. I get through the toll and 45 minutes later, at roughly 8:45, I'm stopped on a highway off and on, like I have been for the past 45 minutes. Eventually, I actually make it through the next toll and into Maryland I finally am where the road is sure to ope...FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK


and stuck in traffic I remain.

At this point, I'm pretty terrified of everything going on. I've left about 5 knuckle marks in the interior roof of my car. At one point, I punched the steering wheel and might brights turned on. I was screaming so loud that I was convinced I was having an out of body experience. I have no idea what the fuck was going on and all I wanted was out of the fucking car...or for someone to fucking kill me.

So I'm freaking the fuck out and I'm getting nervous because the last thing I need now is to get in an accident. I decide that I hate everyone on the road but in particular, anyone from Delaware or Massachusetts. Delaware because these people brake for literally no reason. Mass because these people just drive side by side with other assholes from Mass. What a fucking pain. I decide that all I want to do is bump every one of these cars off the road in hopes that they die in a fiery death and entertain myself along the way.

Anyway, I think it's clear that I'm pretty much out of control at this point and I need to stop driving. I consider pulling off and staying in a hotel for the night but that would just mean that I would sit in morning traffic and I would kill myself before doing that. So I try to continue calmly. That lasted for 10 seconds.

At this point, I have no inner monologue and there is not one sentence that doesn't contain both the word fuck and the word faggot. Not nice words but they were flying out and about...at some points I would apologize to cars for calling them such names.

So it's now 9:45 and I haven't hit Baltimore. Traffic will go and then it will stop but I remain consistently pissed the fuck off...UNTIL...I finally reach the moment where I go too far.

So I'm stopped in the left lane as the middle and right lane are going by us at about 10 MPH. The car in front of my puts their blinker on and it blinks for a good minutes, which feels more like 30. Other cars have slowed down to let this asshole in but the car won't do it. Our lane is not moving, but people are letting it happen and this car just won't move in. Finally, our lane starts to creep and this car still hasn't made it in the next lane with a car stopped to let the car in so I take supreme action. I pull the old drive into the shoulder around the car in front of you and then cut that car off in the left lane as well as the car in the middle lane. I didn't even look. I knew I was in front of the car originally in front of me but had no idea what was in the middle lane. It was at this point that I could hear nothing and braced for an impact that never came.

I thought I was going to get jacked right in the middle of the car and cause a massive accident. I have no idea why I did what I did but even less of an idea why I didn't get hit. I had no reason to think this would work and am not sure right now how I got away with it.

But after this, I was toast...fortunately, the road opened up soon there after and I was able to drive no slower than 45 for the rest of the trip.

Depart New Jersey at 4:05 for a destination 3.5 hours away.
Arrive Columbia, Md at 10:30 pm, 6 hours and 25 minutes after leaving.
Depart Columbia, Md. at 10:50 pm, arrive Washington, DC at 11:30 pm.

12 hours and 15 minutes since the road trip started. Over 7 hours after I left from Jersey for what should have been a 3.5 to 4 hour drive. Someone fucking shoot me.

Things I learned from this experience:

1. I am not driving more than 1 hour away on the east coast ever again. I've added California to this rule as well.
2. People who live in North Dakota, Wyoming and other abandoned states are smarter than me because they don't deal with this type of misery.
3. Never start your day on Elm St. Just an all around stupid idea.
4. Don't ask your boy who has a 1 track mind for Atlantic City for directions when within 2 hours of said destination.

Along this path towards AC, I did debate just going there (I think I was less than a half hour away when I finally turned around) and sitting at a table and getting wasted. Then I remembered I had a bottle of vodka in the car and debated drinking that. Then I just kept driving and decided I didn't need a dwi to go with the worst case of road rage I've ever experienced.

Today at work, every time I did something, I thought about my experience in traffic. I couldn't and still can't get this out of my mind. It was horrible. I'm serious about this driving time thing. I'm not driving more than an hour at a time ever around here again. Only if it's like 4 in the morning but if we stop at anything on the highway that isn't a toll, I'm snapping and killing everything I see.

So I feel kind of better but I'm still going to kill New Jersey. I was never one of the anti Jersey kids and I would sometimes stand up for Jersey. Now, however, now I'm like FUCK JERSEY. FUCK JERSEY, FUCK DELAWARE, FUCK NORTH MARYLAND AND FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK you holiday traffic. you are gay.



there's been a tear in my eye for the past 2 days. I'm not sad or anything like that, it's just been there. I almost walked out of work yesterday because I've pretty much had enough of the person who irritates me the most at work, so I pretty much stopped doing anything for a period of time. I thought it was just me, but other people are sharing similar frustrations, so I felt a little better about hearing that and manned up a little.

But it got me thinking.

Yesterday, I pretty much was in one of those fuck the world type moods where it didn't fucking matter what happened around me, I just didn't give a fuck. It made me think a lot too. I've been watching season 4 of The Wire all week and on that show, life just doesn't have any meaning...that is, no meaning to the everyday associates that person might run with. It's all in the game. One day you might be there and the next you might not, but either way, you have to just do what keeps you going and let the other stuff pass.

I guess that's kind of like what work is, except in the non violent way of course...meaning, I guess you just have to do whatever you have to do to get through the day. The next day, you're going to face similar challenges, but you have to keep moving. The Wire tries to be as realistic as possible in is scripting and screen play. They have 13 and 14 year olds having a hand in the drug trade. Dudes killing each other over turf or over not following instructions the proper way...other dudes whose job it is to just murder on command...cause it's all in the game.

I guess that translates to me dealing with the short cited, immature and "professional" way that people treat you hear. Step out of line and they could suspend or fire you. Hold your tongue and you feel you're disrespecting yourself.

I'm more or less on record with the feeling that the business hierarchy is a piece of shit. Why treat the people you see the most like they are some cog in an industry that doesn't value you over the person who could catch up to your skill set with 2 weeks training? I don't see it. Additionally, I try to take the little I know from being out and about and bring it into this place.

To me, that's taking what I learned from working with people on the field and behind the scenes, like being a team captain. If you're in a position where you are responsible for people, you can't expect to lead them appropriately by force or dictation because they will not support you. They will bail on you the first chance they get, especially if you don't show them the support they are worth consistently. You can't just shit on a group for 300 days and on the 301st do something nice and expect that to carry any weight. Shit, I find that to be more insulting that 300 days of crap.

Machiavelli's thing was to ask if it was better to be feared or loved. He goes on to say feared because if they love you, they'll support you. But, when that one cocky asshole who comes in, he will eventually take you over. If they fear you, they'll do what you say out of fear and won't even dare to take you over.

But what if they fucking hate you? Then they will plot against your ass and fucking punish you the first chance they get.

In my time, I've tried to do the whole fear thing and I've tried to do the whole loved thing. What I've learned is that if they respect you, they'll work with you. If you lead by example, they will look up to you and try to follow what you do. I think I was successful with this in the past because while I could ruffle some feathers, the people who looked up to me knew they could count on me and trust me. At least I think.

That's the kind of shit I'm looking for in the people who are "superior" to me in this business style world in which we work. Don't come to me with a directive, especially if your job title has the word paralegal in it, and try to command me to do something. That won't fly. That will just piss me right off. Come at me like a fucking person, like the sensitive alias that I am and have enough respect for the people you spend 50-60 hours a week with to understand who they are and what makes them work.

Everybody has a thing. Everybody has that nerve you can easily jump on and everyone has that side you can easily appeal to. If you can't find that after spending all those hours with these people, then I feel sorry for you.

And that's why the tear is in my eye today...because I can't bring myself to hate a person who clearly is lost in a world where everything appears to be worse than it is because of an inability to understand those people constantly around.


making up things as i go

Can't explain why but these fingers have been going a little wild these last 45 minutes. The quantity of emails to fly off about things roughly determined to be nothing more than one large typo has been spewing out for a little bit now...so why not just start typing with absolutely nothing in mind, right?

So I'm dolling out nicknames today. Can't really figure out exactly why, but I am and I don't want to stop until some force of total merc makes it happen but I feel like I'm slowing down.

I played tackle football yesterday...maybe this is why I'm in an odd state of being today. Maybe when I got my head knocked on the ground almost immediately something did happen only I didn't feel it. But it was totally worth it. I mean, I haven't walked comfortably, turned my neck without pain or really figured out why it is that I am going to do it all again this weekend but I'm going for it. This is sweet.

So if you're in the market for a nickname, come at me because I'm working on them right now. So far today, Tim has been given Nighthawk and the hottest man (serious no homo here, but this is what the ladies tell me) in DC has been given "The Settler" for constantly selling himself short on the gifts bestowed on him by his parents when they boned some 26 years ago.

Anyway, so The Wire season 4 hits HBO On Demand tonight and I am pumped up. I'm going to watch it to show how pumped up I am about it. The final season starts in January and I was smart enough to watch this series from the beginning, so I'm looking forward to this. Please don't be that guy who ruins the end of things just to be that guy because that's not really all that cool. Please be that person that says, "I won't say another word until you've seen the whole thing" because that's more my speed. Thanks for that. I'd be your friend for as long as you don't annoy me after that if we can come to this simple agreement. Don't test me on this. I have weapons and people who has weapons have very poor judgment.

In other news, I was hanging out with a few co-workers at a holiday party on sunday night. Somehow the topic of who would win a fight, me or this co-workers husband, came up. He stole my classic line of "I'd win because I fight dirty." He proceeded to tell me he'd kick me in my knees and things like that. I was shocked and appalled by his lack of ability to fight dirty. When I say I fight dirty, I mean i'd do all sorts of dirty shit like throw us both down a flight of stairs (done twice) or over a bunch of couches repeatedly (only once and I lost that battle) just to see who comes out of it worse. I would also, if given the opportunity, be that guy who picks up that weapon that has all the spikes on the ball that swings on that chain they used to use back when Robin Hood ruled the world...or was it when Bill and Ted when Back to the Future. Anyway, I'd got all Gladiator on that Juwanna Mann.

Time to go.


What can you do, what could you do?

Right. I mean, it's 11:30 on a Friday night and QP is doing what he does best...drinking ones and sitting in front of a computer.


Because QP is still at work. YEAH! it's friday night and we're working at 11:30. NICE.

There's a big deadline, so I get to sit here until midnight to see if the other side files any motions that says we're idiots. Basically, the way it works is, we say they are fuckwads and they no, you guys are the ones who in fact are fuckwads. A little later we say back to them based on their argument that they are in fact the fuckwads and they do the same with our arguments. Eventually, a judge rules that we are in fact bigger fuckwads than they are, but only because the tranny judge has a hard on for the particular type of fuckwad that they are.

We are the type of fuckwad that plans a well thought out argument with few holes in it and they are the type of fuckwad thats response is "No. Stupid head." Most would assume that sort of childish response would take away from their credibility, but not with our judge...the skank.

Moving on to other news in the world of "wait, what?" We went to play basketball last night at a gym in Columbia Heights. They offer adult night from 7-9 pm on Thursdays and reiterated this last week. So we show up and are told we can't use the gym because they're preparing for an event. Sweet. Basically, the way this place works is, they don't get that many people to attend, but on the off chance someone shows up to say use the basketball court, they get turned away if there is a previously scheduled event...even if no one is there.

They have classes set up and are listed in their pamphlet...but they also tell you that no one ever goes to these things. But if you try and show up and play ball when the court is reserved for Tae Kwon Doe, you can't play ball...even if no one is in the Tae Kwon Doe class (and you need your robe or whatever you call it to be in the class, fyi in case you go).

So we decided to play on the lit court outside...in the 30 degree weather....until they told us they were locking the gates at 7:45. The gym says it closes at 9, but they kick people out at 8 because, and this is a direct quote, "we don't get paid overtime." Now I understand that gripe. If I didn't get paid overtime, I would not be here writing this...no, I'd be out bumpin uglies with hopefully the fattest girl at the bar...because I'm engaged and the doctor wouldn't be threatened if i'm smashing my giblets on some donut shaped denim covered upper thigh...she would feel more concerned that the syphilis (proper spelling, thank you) had finally reached the tertiary stage and rotted my brain.

Anyway, who needs an hour to get the 7 people out of the gym? I could clear house in a place that big with that few people in it in 15 minutes...we were already outside and they were bouncing us 1 hour and 15 minutes prior to closing.

Ah DC, so lazy and distraught are the workers that they plan ahead to fuck you over.

None of this would happen if the Redskins were playoff eligible.



It snowed today. I woke up and the cars had this piney minty taste...I mean, I woke up and the cars had the whole frost thing going on and as I walked to the metro, it was flurrying ever so slightly. After about 30 minutes of sitting down and checking fantasy football stuff at work, I looked out the adjacent window to see it snowing for real. It was nice to look out for the rest of the day as it snowed continuously for the remainder of the day.

I got out of work at like 9 tonight and the doctor and I decided to go for a walk around the neighborhood. It turns out that I'm the least accurate person ever when it comes to throwing a snow ball. I missed every target I aimed for except two.

While walking around constantly making and throwing snowballs, all I wanted to do was peg some random person who had no idea it was coming from almost point blank range. Here's how I envision this going:

me: (throw a snowball really hard at someone at point blank range) "I got you motherfucker. HAHAHAHA....please don't kill me"

random dude/manslaughterer: (utter look of shock/split second look of fear turning to burning rage) "AHHH! What the fu...You fucking asshole"

me: "Wanna get in a snowball fight?"

manslaughterer/guy with no sense of snowball humor: "No." (proceeds to throw me into a moving car.

I would have to say that would be entirely worth it.

So as we walked down a street, we walked past an apartment with a guy and a girl sitting around the place, watching tv....I couldn't resist, so I pegged the window good and true. I felt happy because I finally made contact with something and because I knew I got their attention. As we continued to walk down the block, I kept looking back every couple of seconds to make sure there wasn't a crazed person chasing me down.

Later on, after 45 minutes of walking/throwing snowballs and not hitting anything, the doctor took some pity on me and started running ahead of me in a zig zag pattern. I light up her leg pretty damn good and now she complains of charlie horse pains. NO MERCY SNOWBALL MACHINE.

I'm like Newt LaLoosh.* Not very accurate, but crazy heat.

So that was my day in the snow. It was nice because it doesn't always snow that much here in Chocolate City. Here we are in December, in the first cold week of the year and we already have a good snowfall. Odds are, due to the inability of this area to deal with winter weather, most schools will be on delay or closed tomorrow in the area. I'm serious about this. The snow could stop falling now and there would still be delays tomorrow. This is the same city that cancelled school 2 days after a snow fall once...it's the same city that my freshman year in college got 7 inches of snow and didn't clear it off the streets for a week...not exaggerating. true story.

Tomorrow is one of my favorite work days of the year. Yes, I just wrote that. Why? Because tomorrow is the day that the building my office rents space out of throws the lobby holiday party. This goes on from 5-7 and they have a chocolate fondue station, plenty of delicious appetizers....and a bar. Wine and beer only but man it's fucking sweet. They also do an auction and give away like 10 or 15 things. 3 years ago I won a $100 gift certificate to a really nice restaurant. I haven't won since, but I did get hammered every year at it...Nice. Last year I had to go back to work after the party along with another paralegal. It was funny because she was wasted, as was the attorney we were supposed to work with. When I couldn't reach either of them by phone, I went up to their offices to find them running up and down the halls with no shoes on, double fisting red wine. Fond memories of this party I have.

I guess this is the closest my world will ever come to the office holiday party that I read about in playboy when I was 10. You know, the one where everyone gets wasted and then that other side of the tracks co worker bones the well mannered chick who is also quiet and reserved in the supply closet....or when the 65 year old female partner comes onto the youngest employee who has just been hired 2 weeks earlier only to find out the new hire is a cougar hunter and bones her on the namesake of the offices desk. you know that story? because i'd be lying if I said that kind of imagery doesn't go through my head on a minutely basis at every office party I go to.

Basically, I look around wondering, "where is she?" It's like those TV shows that keep you in suspense before informing you whose been voted off. Only my show hasn't ended yet and this person hasn't revealed herself yet. I guess we could call the show "Cougars" but that is pathetically un QP to be that uncreative. How about "Young Meets Old: Where a Vagina damaged by birthing a child swallows a young professionals boy cock". Yeah, that's a much better title. We could just call it "Boy Cock" for short, but that's pretty damn gay. We'll have to go with "Old Swallows Young." I like that a lot better.

So basically I'll be searching for this closure every holiday season at the office and I guess if it happens, I'll have to retire.

Happy Snowfall.

* Do you know who this person is?


i heard what you said but you fuckin crazy

that title is better than anything that i could ever do whatever and do-op with the hoot-any.

ya holler?

i holler?

that how i

tat tat tat what the fuck man.

at the skins game today, they wouldn't let me walk in with my book. that's just plain wrong. they wouldn't let me take my book into the game.

i'm told (by the movie Class Act (starring Kid 'n Play (holler jamal bach))) that reading is fundamental...so please tell me what's fundamental about throwing my book out because the fucking skins won't let me take my book into the game.

i'm taking it up with the man. i'll holler at you when i hear from them / when i read this later and determine how i get my book back.

raymond spears, ya holler?