Rusty’s Blog

First, this note was posted in our apartment complex this morning:

Click through to read the full text of the note, it’s hilarious. We have a neighbor who lives on our floor who lets his stupid dog go on bathroom breaks without supervision. This is problematic because he’s breaking leash laws and illegally not cleaning up the dog’s pooh, but is even more problematic because the dog has gotten lazy and no longer walks all the way to the grassy area in the parking lot before dropping a bomb. I’m amazed I haven’t stepped in a pile already.

Next, we saw this license plate on our drive to work today:

That’s going to look pretty stupid if Obama loses. Like getting a Microsoft Zune tatoo. For more fun with license plates, see this thread at Drifting Through The Grift.

And finally, my Florida-Tennessee tickets arrived today!

I wrote some about this game over at Rocky Top Talk.

If you need game tickets, you should buy them from Larry at Take Me Out Tickets. I priced these out at Stubhub as well, and the overall price was $35-40 cheaper for equivalent tickets since Stubhub has extra fees and you pay shipping. Plus he’s local and a lot of you already know him, so you’ll get better customer service. And no, I didn’t receive anything to plug the site.

Amber had a doctor’s appointment this morning, so I took MARTA to work. I got off the train and made my way toward the office, white earbuds contrasting with my gray shirt and olive green cargo shorts, listening to This American Life on my iPhone. The picture of white hipster douchery could only have been more complete if a friend drove up in a Prius with an Obama sticker on it, stopped and suggested we should totally bail on work to go rock climbing. Or snow boarding.

As I’m about to cross the street, I see a former co-worker of mine from a past job. He’s spastic, but nice enough I guess. He has long hair, speaks with what sounds like a sort of British or maybe Irish accent and spells his name with a Z where an S should be. I ran into him at the same intersection a little over a year ago.

He stops me in the center of the crosswalk as I notice the signal turning from Walk to Don’t Walk.

”What are you doing around six o’ clock tonight?” he asks.

I remove my earbuds and lie.

”We’ll be out.”

”You will?” he asked.

He didn’t sound convinced.

”Yeah, we’re leaving right after work,” I said, not really convincing myself either.

”I’m going to call you this afternoon.”

And so the conversation ended as we both noticed our allotted time to cross the street had long since expired, and with a few more seconds we might start a riot. I was already self-conscience enough about my douchery, and didn’t need to be the guy standing in the center of the crosswalk blocking traffic. People who do that are assholes.

He called just now, but I didn’t answer the phone. He didn’t leave a voicemail. I’m vaguely curious what could be so important that he would stop traffic to tell me about it and ask me to show up after I hadn’t seen him in a year or so. But not that curious.