Sunday nights on the couch

Ramblings Post #182
I like television. Well, not most of television. Some of television. On my old Direct TV box, they had a little nine box square speed dial feature that meant I could skip 95% of the channels I was paying for if I so desired. And because I so desired I did so with vigor and zesto. On my new box, you have to pay for the extra HD to get that damn hot channel box...and whereas I like Direct TV, it's not quite that kind of relationship.

I have watched television since as a small child I realized it was window to the outside world. At one point my parents didn't need a TV Guide, they had me. I knew all channels, what was coming on when, the tricks to make the TV work properly when the screen got fuzzy, you know everything. And although I did spend my first eight years in Atlanta watching a 19-inch set (because I was out and about and really didn't care), the feeling for that magic was still there. Well, not really.

As I've matured I'm down to liking just some television. Very little in fact. Well, the parts I can see when I'm not doing something else, or usually catch in the middle because my eyes are tired of reading cases or the parts I can watch after I'm finished everything else, which is why I'm now considering actually buying something off an infomercial. Except on Sunday nights. Sunday nights on Showtime starting at 10pm, I watch something I actually like.

At 10pm, it's Don Cheadle's House of Lies. In it, Cheadle plays Marty Kaan, a management consultant who with his team travels each week to somewhere to solve some business problems. Wait, I made that sound way too nice. Cheadle plays Marty "the Con-man" Kaan, a self centered huckster who reminds me of the cleaned up version of my brother's old business partner who goes out each week with his crew to see if they can convince a new company to hire his company. Whether it's bringing a stripper to a business dinner or doing drugs in the parking lot with a VP to learn a few secrets, Marty's goal is as always to make sure his firm gets the afterwork business. It's very funny, sometimes a little raw, and but altogether a good watch.

House of Lies cast

Then at 10:30pm I watch Californication. Watching this is almost an afterthought, as I understand the show is in its fourth or fifth or something season. The episodes I've seen this season revolve around the protagonist, Hank Moody, writing a movie for what has to be the most gratuitously named black character in all of filmdom ever - Samurai Apocalypse. The episodes I've seen seem to indicate that at its core it's one of the shows where everyone has a huge house, drives a great car, always has a pocket full of cash but never appears to do any work at all. I normally hate those shows. Well Samurai did put in some work in a music studio, so maybe that. It's watchable, but it really is only on my radar because of its time slot.

My show, my soap opera, is Shameless which I watch at 11pm. I realize that this is a remake of a Brit original, and normally I would watch the original then lord it over everyone how I had watched the real deal instead of the knockoff. But this knock off, styled more to the American taste, actually plays better to me. That and I had already gotten used to the American cast so when I saw the original it didn't feel right.

Frank and the kids...and yes the baby is black.

The Shameless story is of the Gallagher clan, a nest of hustlers, thieves, and con-artists headed, well, kinda headed by Frank Gallagher, a single father of six children who is an inveterate alcoholic who would be two grades below the trailer park if they lived in the south. Well, not really, the family is actually headed by Fiona, Frank's daughter who trying her best to keep the family together since her father will occasionally sleep wherever he passes out and whose only regular home appearance is to pick up his fraudulent disability check. The cast is huge, the story lines diverse and just when you think you know what's coming they manage to throw a monkey wrench into the whole thing.

Now considering my classmates are going out to clubs (according to their facebook posts), jetting off to locales and vacations (according to their facebook posts) and generally hanging out (according to their facebook posts AND photographs) a couple of hours a week for TV ain't that bad. I think.

Barkeep, whatever Frank is drinking, I would like the opposite of that.

That's that then

Ramblings Post #97
Sometime in 2008, I honestly believed that God had, as close to as metaphorically possible, punched me in the mouth by causing an occurrence the odds of which were astronomical against to actually take place. It was a sign that I'd squandered a opportunity. I have a reason to believe, God is now holding my feet to the fire again.



I looked on Facebook earlier, and judging by the chatter the studying starts in earnest tomorrow for my peers. I thought well, I too could take one more night then dive in. Watch a little TV, let the mind settle, start on creating my Flash Cards and gather everything together. Maybe a spot of laundry. Nothing intense.

But I came home to my "new" yard guy finishing up the yard. Which was odd, because he was supposed to cut it on Saturday when I was home. No big, he said I could pay him tomorrow and disappeared. I walked in the house, got my comfy clothes on, turned on the TV and ....

... so it seems intense starts tonight.

Dude cut the cable.

To get a signal at my house, Direct TV had to put the dish in the yard and ran the cable that carried the signal all the way across the lawn around the house. My old lawn guy had cut the yard and never even nicked it. This guy didn't just cut it, he cut it into three distinct pieces. One of which he nicked again!

Then I called Direct TV, whom I tout every freaking chance I get, and damned if they can't arrive until Tuesday, unless somebody cancels. I might have to take back my free advertising! So I'm home, with my books, and I'm off till Thursday to get my mind right for finals. And no TV.

As such, now I have no excuses. My film collection is sorely lacking. My video game collection is woeful, and would take up way too much time anyway. So, it's studying, eating and the internet. Technically, this is good...no distractions, other than the internet (which can get boring), and just studying all weekend.

Barkeep...just tell me this is good.

New Home Update.

It only took a month and half, four trees cut down, a limb removed, six appointments and seven technicians (the last two came in pairs) but the Direct TV is on at the crib. Oh hell yes!

A friend of mine just slipped me the CEO's phone number as they were having problems with Direct TV as well, but it wasn't needed. I really wish I could go back now and get the other busted ass techs who came out to be required to stop back by and see that it could be done.

-->The little light booty fuck who showed up Saturday at 5pm already on the cellphone to his buddy as he arrived.

-->The little bassid who came out and told me no way, and wouldn't even try.

-->The fucker who rode by and never stopped.

I need all of them to ride by and be required to watch as turn it on, give me a full apology. I was prepared to bet the guy who showed up this morning $20 he could get a signal if he stood where I told him too.

Okay in the ensuing 45 days I've been without, I want to say I've accomplished so much. That I read several novels I wouldn't had time to, started a new work or polished an old, maybe took the time to clean up the house or paint. I would be lying if I said those things. I played games on my computer and watched DVDs.

As an aside, why is every copy of Pirates of the Caribbean from Blockbuster I buy so scratched as the be unwatchable?

I've got the Premier Package (all the channels) and Sunday Ticket (all the NFL games) and Superfan (which I'm not sure will work with my old ass box). I may not be back for a while. I was this close to calling Charter, this -><-- close. So close.

Barkeep....Knob Creek. Leave the bottle. Oh yeah.

Dogs and Direct TV

It was a less than memorable weekend.

I watched Sporty's dogs this weekend as she went out of town for a Flag-Football Tourney (ah, the sportswoman). Much like me forgetting why I will only sit in Club Level or above in the Georgia Dome, I also forgot why I don't own pets.

1. Pets mean you have to go home. Regularly.
2. Pets mean feedings.
3. Pets have accidents.
4. Pets have a unique aroma.

Now I like dogs, much like I like children. I like the kind you can give back to their owners/parents after say 5 minutes of interaction. I can play toss the stick with the cute puppy, or toss the football with the kid, but hey isn't that your mommie calling?

So I spent the weekend dipping out then heading home to check and make sure the "kids" hadn't gotten into something and destroyed something else. And to keep my floors clean, I must have walked them six times a day (it didn't work). The little one apparently won't go if you're watching him. And the only times I wasn't watching him was when I was asleep or not there. You get the picture. He's not invited back.

But I asked for that, so...

...but Direct TV. I'm so ready to ....ooooh. Okay, so I've been without my Direct for like a month and half. Line of sight issues. Three techs have been out. The fucked up part is that the second tech found a spot to get a signal. The first was lazy and the third tech blew me off like I was nuts. I requested the same tech but they didn't send him.

To get the signal adequately, I need to get a branch cut down however. And do you know how hard it is to find a ladder? I mean like for real...apparently ladders are like gold.

The second tech says cut this branch down, you're in the house. The third tech tells me the second tech was crazy. If I hadn't gotten NFL Sunday ticket, Super fan and the Premier Package for being a persistent customer (I've never been nasty with anyone on the phone) I would have quit a while back. As it is, now I just want to be able to watch some damn TV.

As it is, I'm going to have to find a bar to watch the Cowboys-Bills tonight. I'm not amused.

Barkeep, a boilermaker with a tequila shot on the back.