My Life < Pocket Aces

I've been comparing everything to poker lately. Usually when something's really nice, I've always called it Aces. Even before I started playing. Now, it's Pocket Aces, cause it's more funny when the timing's right. Anyway, had another boring ass day. Woke up early at 945, which IS early when you're unemployed. did a little bit of shit today, but nothing monumental. Called the temp agency, and was told she'd send my resume in to a company. She called me back, saying they were interested in hiring me, out right, and I said 'great.' Long story short, I never heard back from her. I called her at the end of the day, and the call disconnected while I was on hold. Had a very mediocre dinner. Pretty mediocre day overall.

I've actually gotten off my proverbial ass, however, and have (re)started two books which I've been meaning to finish. The Inner Game of Music, I read half way through, 2-3 years ago, then forgot about it. And The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay I've had in the "To Read" pile for about two years now. I still have yet to finish Lewis Black's Nothing Sacred. I really just need to put that one in the bathroom, since the chapters are so brief. I'm sure you all catch my drift with that one. It's a good book, tho. Anyway, that's three books at the top of the list. Might turn off the ol' TV tonight and get to that, actually. I watched Prison Break this afternoon (I TiVo'd it). I thought it was pretty cool. A lot of little twists and shit. I'm lookin' forward to it next week. Of course, my girlfriend IS doing sound design for the show, so I might be a little biased.

The poker reference at the beginning was leading up to this: My life is, unfortunately, less than Pocket Aces, which for those that don't know cause you live under a rock, is the best starting hand in poker. My life isn't unsuited 7-2, either (the WORST starting hand in poker). At this point, I feel like my whole life right now is a big J-5 of clubs. There's a little paint and a flush possibility. Not a great starting hand, but I've won with it a few times. I feel like that's where my life is right now. I have no clue as to what the fuck is gonna happen tomorrow, except it's another day I can't pay my bills. I don't know what I can do TOMORROW, besides practice, to make SOMETHING happen for myself. I've got a call to make to the temp agency, but who knows what that'll bring. More heartbreak, I'm guessing. I DO have lessons tomorrow, and it is payday. However, I think I turned my attendance sheet in a day too late, so I might have to wait until the 15th to get my motherfucking money. God, SOMETHING needs to happen for me SOON. Lotto would be nice, except I don't have money for a ticket. Oy vey.

EDIT: Now that I think about it, I scored a Royal Flush off J-5 of clubs once. Barbie AND Ryan were there to see it.

To those affected by Katrina

I'd like to take a post to send out all my love to the survivors and victims of Hurricane Katrina. My prayers are with everyone involved in this tragedy, and I hope everyone is warm, well, and fed.


Shameless Self-Pimping

I've decided to sell some DVDs on eBay. Here's the link to my page: JeffX3000 @ eBay Buy my shit, or tell your friends to.

Another bit of pimping I feel the necessity to promote is the page Barb made with all the different imposters, claiming to be Me. If I'm ever famous, I'm going by a stage name.


Now, I know why Chris hates SprintPCS

Last month, in my eagerness to make sure my first car payment goes through, I neglected to pay my Sprint bill. Oops. So on Sunday, I make my double payment from the OCTFCU Bill Pay site. Problem solved, right? Today, I get a letter fromt the Sprint collections department, saying Pay us, you bastard! (I paraphrased a little) Well, faced with this, I go online to OCTFCU, to make sure my payment went through, which it did. Then, to the PCS site, to check my balance, just to be sure before I make a slew of irate calls. Sprint.com says I still owe my huge balance. Fuck. Time to call. First call, I get the merry-go-round treatment on the automated system. Second call, I dial 0 and get conected to someone who can't help me. Third call, I get transfered to the right department, but to someone for whom English is obviously not her fortè. She tells me I need to pay my bill, and I say that I've paid my balance in full. She then hangs up on me. I shouted the same swear I used for rachel86deborah, hoping she'd hear it through some sort of divine grace. My fourth call, I actually get someone who can help me. I tell her I've paid, and she tells me that I neeed to pay. That goes on for 3-4 minutes. Then I ask if there's anything I can do to insure that everything's taken care of. She says to pay the overdue balance. When I realize she's asking me to pay a third payment, I freak out, and tell her I'll do no such thing, since money should be in sprint's hands. At least I KNOW the money is going where it should be. Thankfully, my phone won't be turned off til the 16th, so by then, I should be golden.

August 29th, 2005

It's Monday, boring as every other monday tends to be. I still am fretfully unemployed, albeit today has been more productive than the last 8 weekdays (sans last friday) have been for me. I talked to Justin on the phone for a few minutes. Then I actually got up and outside, put a little scratch in the bank, and went to UCI to get my Official Transcripts so I can apply to be a sub (finally). Then, came home, ate some Heeb Nationals... Mmmm... I just called on fingerprinting, and the damn place has a week and a half wait list to get the shit done. I should've known. Oh well. I'm still closer than I was last week.

As for my transcripts, I knew I had completed over 200 units of coursework, but the actual number eluded me until today. Upon inspection, I completed 247 units of classes as a music major at UCI. The old lady in the registrar was dumbfounded. "How did you do that?!" she asked. I said "music majors all have numbers like that." Though I'd like to think mine are slightly higher ;)

The rest of today, I may just go out and read somewhere. Hopefully, there's a poker game tonight. I need a distraction from everything, and I've been itching to play some cards, too. Tomorrow, I call the temp agency, and beg to get back on the roster (full time) at least for a couple of weeks. I hope I'm not blacklisted. Who the fuck cares if I am, anyway? I decided I could handle Zs at night for a little while. Maybe I'll get off my fat ass and talk to Erick over there. Oh well. More to come.

btw, I'm not feeling very creative with the titles today. Sorry.

Turtle Power!!!

This came off a sight called VGcats.com. Haven't been to it, but saw this image on the bkv board. Genius.


rachel86deborah is a cunt.

Someone by this name posted life insurance ads in the comment sections of my blog. Whether this person did it on purpose, or through no fault of their own, is none of my concern. It looks like it's a growing problem on Blogger, so I've started word verification for my comments to try to cut this shit off at the head (at least for my blog). Just warning you all that there'll be a small extra step to leave comments now.

If you're offended by my use of language, know that I only use it in times of extreme duress. Or to convey my point. Which I think the 'c' word did pretty well here.


Look at all the beer bottles on the counter.

Yesterday afternoon, I went to the driving range with Ryan and Kevin at 5. We drove, hung out, then went back to Ryan's. Now, for those that don't know, going to Ryan's almost always involves drinking beer like a chain smoker smokes cigarettes. Which is fine. BUT. Last night, there was what seemed like an infinite supply of beer. We (Ryan, Kevin, and I) drank 6 Stella Artois a piece. Plus two tequila shots, each. Oh yeah, by this point, Ryan's neighbor Jason had come over. And Jessica (Ryan's GF for those that don't know) was with us, too. Also, we put our empty bottles on the kitchen counter. By the end of the night, you couldn't see countertop. There had to have been 40 empty bottles there. Then once the beer was out, another guy from the past, Mike Moon, showed up with a 20 pack of MGD. That slowly but surely got finished off. Then Ryan disappears to the car hole and comes back with another case (24) of Stella. Thankfully, we didn't get into that. At some point in the night, after Mike showed up, Vanessa (Jason's booty call) shows up. Now there's 7 of us, hanging out, drinking, having a good ass time. Then The Simpsons: Battle of the Sexes board game comes out. We play a very drunken version of that game for like half an hour. At one point, we realize we've been playing it wrong the whole time. The general consnsus is "fuck that game." So we did. Soon after, everyone starts leaving. Ryan, who is always the consumate host, lets me hang out after everyone goes, cause we both know that if I leave in a drunken stupor, I'll be screwed in some form or fashion. So we sit, smoke our respective pipes, and we actually spoke about pedagogy for like two hours. I learned a little about bass, and I taught a little about trombone, some of which I know was absorbed by Ryan. We talked about golf, and realized that neither of us really know what we're doing, but Ryan's better, cause he actually tries to learn and practice. And I'm not, cause I don't.

I managed to make it home by 5am. 12 hours after I met up for golf. The worst part of it all is that had to wake up at 745 for my lessons. And I didn't actually get to sleep until 545. Ladies and Gentlemen, I've never been THIS tired in all of my life. Part drunk, part asleep, but through sheer willpower, I managed to stand upright, and fake being a human for three half hour lessons. Came home and went right to bed. Much to the dismay of myself AND Barbie. Cause I really wanted to talk to her, and I'd like to think that sentiment was mutual =* In an hour, I have to be at The Grove in Anaheim cause I'm playing a big band gig with Charlie O and the good ol' UCI Jazz Orchestra, with featured vocalist, Ernie Andrews (this one isn't open to the public, people. I'm sorry). Sound check's at 4. Gig's at 7 or so. This'll be my first hungover gig, and unfortunately, it's a big one. At least it'll sound good. Maybe by showtime, I'll be over it. I probably will be. Here's hoping.


Homer Simpson come to life.

Roberto Parada is a portrait artist, and is pretty damn good one, too. He did a real life Homer a few years back, apparently. And I love it. Thanks again to Eric for sending this my way. Sidebar link, also.


Guilt-Free Cannibalism, a.k.a. Hufu™

I saw a link to a certain product, and was afraid to click on it, fearing the moral and ethical implications of what it represents. This product is called Hufu™. It, apparently, is a viable, VEGAN substitute for those who are looking to try human flesh (to eat, that is). The makers claim to have duplicated, with much similarity, the taste AND texture of Human flesh. They even joke about it being a great product for the cannibal who's trying to quit. And I'll say it again: it is 100% Vegan.

What I'm concerned about is just how close it is to the real thing. Now, don't misread my intentions. I'm not looking to eat human flesh. I've never been interested in eating human flesh. And frankly, the thought of eating human flesh sickens me. That said, the thought of Hufu™ is intriguing in that "forbidden" sort of way. I think it's the "guilt free" aspect of it, like with all Vegan "meats." It's like Alcohol-free beer for some people, or self tanning lotion, or free online poker. There's no risk involved with those things, which, I'd imagine, is why they're popular (to a certain extent). But the whole thing with, for example, free poker, is that it's fun when it's free, but once you invest money into it, it's a whole different ball game, with a much better rush when you win. And lose. So the point of all this is, when you eat Hufu™, do you get the overwhelming curiosity to know what the real thing tastes like? Now, I know my habits, and I can already tell that, although I wouldn't pursue it, there's that chance some kind of curiosity to find out might form itself. For those brave or curious enough to see what this stuff is one last time, Hufu™


I'm Late

It's official. As of FOUR minutes ago, I'm late for my first day of training to be a wine broker. I've also officially bailed on the job. I told myself that I'd never take a job that's 100% commission and I'd never take a job that's phone sales. This job is both. It took a lot of deliberation this weekend to make the decision, but it's been made.


Me, Barbie, and the 40 Year Old Virgin

I'm firking awsesome

That was my attempt to show Barb I can type without looking at the keys.

Last night, we went and saw The 40 Year Old Virgin. This is fucking the most funny movie I've seen in a long time. I havent' laughed at a movie like that since Zoolander. Well, maybe Anchorman, maybe. Also, it kinda freaked me out that I could very well've ended up as that guy. Those who see it will know exactly what I mean. It's definitely the funniest movie I've seen in a long time, however.

I give it Three cherries up:



Quick! To the Gay Batmobile!

Mark Chamberlin is the artist who did this and a series of gay Batman and Robin watercolors. Apparently, DC and Batfans are up in arms about these paintings, and I say 'good.' These are hilarious, and are pretty indicative of the gayness of the old Batman show.

The image here belongs to whoever it belongs to. I'm just spreading the word over the interweb.

Link to follow in sidebar.


Yay, Jonny!

I'd like to say Congratulations to JQ for his getting accepted into business school. You're awesome, buddy! It's a good day for the Long family: One son turns 25, the other gets into business school. You can't be mad at any of that ;)



Today's the day, kids. I'm 25! And what an exciting day I have lined up!.. Not really. I gotta go to work in four hours, but I'll make due. As far as birthday weeks go, however, this one is shaping up to be a rockin one. Sunday night, Barb and I saw (for free) Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. I've never been a huge Tom Petty fan, but he puts on one fucking good show. So I guess I'm a fan now ;) Also, I didn't know I knew SO MANY Tom Petty songs. Pretty much all the original songs, I at least knew the chorus to. I'd recommend to everyone to go see him live, if you get teh opportunity.

Last night, Antonio and I met Barbie, Julie, and Kathy in LA for the Cross Hart Jazz Experience at The Bel Age Hotel. We went to see their featured guest. Charlie Owens. I haven't seen him in two years, and it was such a joy to spend a little time with him. We all talked for a long ass time. It was great. Also, all the guys that played were fucking amazing musicians. Especially Charlie O., but all the other guys seemed to be heavyweights, too.

Tomorrow, I've got a rehearsal with the venerable UCI Jazz Orchestra, thanks to Steve Liu. We're playing at The Grove of Anaheim on the 27th as a back up band for vocalist Ernie Andrews. I know he came to UCI once, but it's been so long, I don't remember anything about him. Also, I have a job interview tomorrow afternoon, but I'll say more about it after the fact.

Anyway, that's enough for now. Happy Birthday to ME!!!!


More cowbell in 2008

Walken, 2008

Fear the poker gods...

Last night, I went to play poker with some friends of Kevin. A bunch of nice guys, with an abundance of $20's. Ryan was there, too. I managed to play my stack for a couple of hours. I had a few good wins, but made some bad calls toward the end. Ended up losing my stack. There was a LOT of money on the table, too. It was fun, but it was frustrating to have lost. Since money was no object to these guys, EVERY hand came down to who had better cards. There was no bluffing, since a huge $5 bet from me was a pittance to more than half the table. Anyway, it sucks to have lost, but I learned an important lesson: In cash games, money is no object to some people. Play Smart.

Rule #1. You Do Not Talk About Fight Club

You all wanted to know what the Rules for Boozing are? There's 86 of them. You ready for this?

The 86 Rules of Boozing



One of the most cathartic experiences I have, as of late, is looking at this website:


It's a collection of postcards that people mail in, admitting a secret, or confessing to something private. I've been meaning to blog about this for like, 3 months. I didn't want to share. I wanted to keep it all to myself. I'm a mean old man. But as down on myself as I have been in the last few months, this helps me keep my head on straight (oddly enough). Also, the first time I went on it, I almost started crying.

There should be a sidebar link to this, too.


"New" Job.

I finally got a temp gig. It's 3 days a week, and it's outside. I'm temping for a car auction house (where dealers sell to other dealers), and I'm inspecting cars as they come in, before they go to auction (mainly for cosmetic problems; dents, chips, etc). It's easy, honest, blue-collar work, though it's not something I'm looking to do for long term. I AM sunburned as fuck, tho. Barb'll tell ya. I sent her pictures. It's bad. Also, the temp agency didn't tell me that I was working outside, so I was wearing black dockers, collared shirt, nice shoes, and walking around cars, inspecting them for six solid hours.

Space Shuttle Follies

So NBC news says the space shuttle landing is postponed because of lightning storms (not that I'm interested in such ventures, but I digress). You'd think they'd be able to easily land in Texas or California, as a contingency plan, or some such garbage. The news says it's a couple million big ones to do that, but you'd think there'd be a little extra padding in the billions of dollars in the space program. It's like taking extra money to vegas, for a hotel room. The goal is to not end up there at the end of the night, cause you're having such a good time/drunk and passed out/laid/winning, but you're SO glad to have brought that extra dough, just in case you need to crash by yourself.


Alas, earwax...

Well, Barb and I were at the store earlier. We saw the little display of Bertie Bott's Everyflavor Beans, which is a running gag in the first few Harry Potter movies/books, and is pretty consistantly mentioned/referred to. We said "Hey!, we LOVE HP, let's buy 'em!" (In unison, no less) And with flavors claimed to be "dirt, earthworm, bacon, earwax, and vomit," (among others like "lemon drop, cinnamon, marshmallow") how could we say no? Well let me be the first kid on my blog to say that the dirt actually tastes like dirt. The grass, grass. The earthworm, a very convincing flavor of earthworm. We, unfortunately for Ryan, didn't receive any bacon jellybeans. I can't say I'd recommend you all to go out and buy 'em. Lest your thinking to pull a fast one on someone that deserves it. Of course, you could always take our spares for a "free trial."

Yet another kitchy art post

I just saw this on the boards:

Any guesses as to the guy's medium?

Ok, it's chalk. Don't believe me?

Julian Beever

Thanks to Sarah for posting this over there. And now, its in the sidebar.


Who Owns The Fish?

So Eric finds these great links, and I post a few of them here now and then. He sent me this one tonight, and it's to a riddle contest. Here's the riddle:

This brainteaser, reportedly written by Einstein is difficult and Einstein said that 98% of the people in the world could not figure it out. Which percentage are you in?

There are five houses in a row in different colors. In each house lives a person with a different nationality. The five owners drink a different drink, smoke a different brand of cigar and keep a different pet, one of which is a Walleye Pike.

The question is-- who owns the fish?

1. The Brit lives in the red house.
2. The Swede keeps dogs as pets.
3. The Dane drinks tea.
4. The green house is on the left of the white house.
5. The green house owner drinks coffee.
6. The person who smokes Pall Malls keeps birds.
7. The owner of the yellow house smokes Dunhills.
8. The man living in the house right in the center drinks milk.
9. The man who smokes Blends lives next to the one who keeps cats.
10. The Norwegian lives in the first house.
11. The man who keeps horses lives next to the one who smokes Dunhills.
12. The owner who smokes Bluemasters drinks beer.
13. The German smokes Princes.
14. The Norwegian lives next to the blue house.
15. The man who smokes Blends has a neighbor who drinks water.

There are no tricks, pure logic will get you the correct answer. And yes, there is enough information to arrive at the one and only correct answer.

I got the answer after 70 minutes of brain-straining. It's the same answer Eric got, so I'm gonna make a venture as to our answer is the correct one. If you have a guess at the answer, feel free to IM me and share. I'll be happy to give some of the clues I got, but only after the 8th. Oh yeah, here's another link to that contest


Que Sera, Sera...

(Whatever will be, will be...)

It's the Third of August, and I've been jobless for about a month. I've had a call into a temp agency for 3 weeks, and nothing has come to fruition with them. I'm very nearly at the end of my rope, but I have 2 or 3 small checks coming in this month so I think I can make my August bills. I'm thinking about going back to a restaurant, if only for a little while, tho I promised myself I wouldn't. I'm also pretty close to going down to Borders to see if they need warehouse help. I'm playing, but I don't know how I go about getting gigs (besides the gig Steve Liu came through for me on this month). There's a cigar store hiring in Fullerton... at least they were two weeks ago. But I'm trying to convince myself that it's not a job I'd like in the long term. Porno crossed my mind a few minutes ago, but then I realized several things: 1) I'd never actually do it, 2) I couldn't lay that bombshell on Barbie and expect her to be okay with it, 3) guys don't get paid nearly as well as girls, 4) I'd probably get stuck with dudes, and that's not something I'm looking to get stuck with. If I could play poker for a living, I would. I'd like to think I'm pretty good in home games, but I know I'm not as good as I need to be to make money at it. So now, I'm sitting here, trying to figure out what exactly I should be doing today, whether it be hitting the pavement to find something, or if I should just go where the wind takes me. I know I can start substitute teaching in September, but that's a month away at this point. I hate this stagnation I've kinda let myself get into. And the worst part is that my 25th Birthday is in two weeks (from yesterday). It's like this unspoken deadline, where I have to get into SOMETHING, so I'm not this loaf, at what should be the turning point of his life, not doing anything, confined to a boring existence, brought on by complacency. Maybe I'm afraid to take a risk, or maybe I'm afraid to be rejected. Or maybe I figure the world owes me, and I'm just waiting for the pay-off.



Vandal's Castle, by Bryan Wozniak

Bry turned me onto his deviantArt account just now, and here's my plug for this talented young man.

Bryan @ deviantArt

Image Copyright 2005, Bryan Wozniak.

Peer Pressure.

I've received a couple of requests as to why I'm not on myspace.com. Since everyone in the free world seems to be on this motherfucker, I decided to soil the net with even more of my presence.

Jeff @ mySpace

If you want a friend, request it, and I'll see what I can do. Don't look for anything interesting there, except a link back to here (and a snappy pic of yours truly). I don't intend to maintain my account there, nor blog, nor advertise any self-depricating publicity garbage that everyone else does on there. I'm just there cause everyone else is.