Pictures. Because I’m drunk and I suck.

I was sitting outside today, enjoying a beautiful Rocky Mountain day, and thinking how nice it would be if Dland wasn’t five different shades of fuckered so’s I could catch up on some of my vicarious living.

Not happenin’, so I started drinking.

I briefly considered writing an actual entry, but instead remembered all of the pics that I’d taken during the week, as well as my own increased level of inebriation.

Whenever I go “drunken posting,” I end up with something sappy and emoty, so I’m copping out with these.


MyCompany’s office move is complete, and CubeWorld no longer exists in reference to Judd’s Hole (at least where my career is concerned).

Judd's New Hole

Spacious and welcoming, complete with props to my white-trash heritage, my “cube” will be further enhanced after a group trip to Toys R Us this coming Monday.


This is the view from my desk.

Mountains are purty

That definitely DOESN’T suck.


Our current building must have been a daycare or “Office of Under the Rainbowers” though… hence my only complaint.

That's a long way to piss

The damn pisser is about 5 fuckin’ inches offa the floor.

I’m working on the start-far-away-and-work-your-way-in technique as well as the aim-directly-into-the-drain-holes technique. Thus far, neither have worked to avoid splatter, and I’m wiping my boots off every goddam trip.

There’s a “workout room” stocked with fancy-schmancy bikes and some weights and a shower in the men’s room.

I’ve been hitting ze veights tho, after hours, and shall be buff Basedow-style soon.

Oh, except for that whole beer-drinking thing. Um, never mind.

For reference, “limparme antes limpia el bano por favor” does NOT mean “please let me shower before you clean the bathroom,” but rather something along the lines of “please clean me before you clean the bathroom.”

My Spanish is for shit, but I’ve made quick friends with the nice Hispanic woman that cleans our offices.


In honor of St. Patrick and his special day, I wore the Utilikilt to work, mostly in hopes that I could entice some of my coworkers out for an evening of “let’s see how much Guinness we can drink before we piss on ourselves,” but I was rebuffed.

For fear of the crowds and the cops downtown, the Montanan and I hit a bar in Highlands Ranch, which proved to be quite lame, but we bullshitted and told lies until we were lit up enough to liven up the place.

The Montanan proved that one’s camera skills can only be increased by alcohol with this stunning, artistic, shot of the bar.

Got Wood?

I also had on my “Go Fuck Yourself, Eh?” hat, courtesy of the Surly Canuck.

Best Hat Ever

See? Cole does more than just leave repressed-flambouyantly gay comments on here folks. Go visit him. It’s cold up North, and his hands are probably too numb for some “quality time.”


The Montanan was looking quite dapper, and I got drunk enough to put the moves on him, but he kept saying/screaming something about how he has a girlfriend and wouldn’t go for me despite the fact that I was in a kilt. He still enjoyed it when I grabbed his tits though, he can’t deny that.

Boob grab, Montana-style

He’s still wanted back home for questioning in a bizarre-love-triangle-double-murder involving some sheep, a hairdryer, and a 5-pound box of walnuts, so he’s permanently altered his appearance.


Despite the fact that our waitress kept the beer flowing like mud, she did express interest in what is under the kilt, as well as the accompanying Dance of Explanation.

I've got a TIP for ya

But, she avoided a St. Patty’s Day Molestation by claiming that she was getting over Strep, or Mono, or some shit.


It was snowing last weekend while I was on the phone with Femme Australis, and she tasked me with two things.

The first… to make a fresh snow angel.

yeah, it's cold

I SAID it's fucking cold

The second was more of a theory, that she and ThirdSister were interested in testing out.

I made the snow angel a GIRL in the interests of testing this theory (as well as for my own manly needs), but simply got too fucking cold to test it. I won’t go into details, for fear of giving away their idea…

*cough SnowmanPorn cough*

…but it’s a million dollars baby, for sure.


The problem with starting in on the beer at 4 PM is that I run out, and my head hurts, by 8. My choices were previously A) go to bed now, or 2) walk to the liquor store for more.

The Montanan just called. He’s on his way to his girlfriend’s hockey game and he wants me to go. Hmmm.

“Dude, it’s up North, but they’ve got a bar upstairs… a BAR.”

Go Hockey Chicks.

Watch out for deer.

P.S. About a million years ago, I made another survey. I forget the name of it, and can’t seem to link to it, either because I’m drunk or Andy-roo still ain’t fixed everything, but go fill it out. It doesn’t suck near as bad as the other one, I promise.

And by “promise” I mean “forgot to care whether or not I suck.”