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Soccer - "The Gospel Truth" (1997 - Coolidge Records) hard to describe- heavy REM? Heavy roots-rock?...good, though



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Sunday, Apr. 06, 2003 - 7:56 p.m.

Out of ink? Fuck me!� and - bagging for dollars?

I sat down tonight, looking forward to printing a few photographs from the past two weeks.

I loaded up the first page of files, clicked on �print�, and then sat back and waited for my results.

I didn�t have to wait long.

About 1� onto the first photo, a warning box popped up on my monitor: �Color ink is too low to continue printing. Please replace the color ink cartridge�.

Since I had several new carts of ink in my closet, I knew I would be printing in just moments.

One problem: all of the new carts are black ink.

Somehow, I have managed to eat up all of my new color carts, while only using one or two black ones.

I am not in the mood to run out to Circus City on a Sunday evening to buy more ink. I would have to pay more than twice as much there for one refill anyway. The web site I buy my ink from (Mr. Ink) is fast (2-3 business days tops), but can�t do me any good tonight.


Today was the yearly �bagging for tips� fundraiser for Codeman�s baseball team.

That means it was also our once-a-year- trip to the grocery store where this event was taking place.

We used to shop there regularly, once upon a time. The store is on the other side of town from us, and there is nothing there that compels us to drive there over the local Kroger or Wallyworld.

None the less, we did our weekly grocery shopping there today. I even had to fill out another application for a �preferred� card, since I couldn�t find my old one (filled out last year, on this same occasion).

When we were ready to check out, we made sure that we were in Codeman�s line. He was partnered up with his friend Jordan. Since they have a minor competition to see which group has the largest amount of tips, we had to make sure we were in their line.

Both of the coaches were standing at the exit door when we started our trip down the line. By the time we were ready to leave, the head coach had disappeared.

I found this funny, mainly because Lease told me (as we entered the line) that she bet he would be gone in less than 5 seconds.

I think she made it to 4 before he left.

What did he think we would do- yell at him in public? Ask him again why he doesn�t play our boy?

What a joke.

As we were leaving, I spotted him at the very end of the checkout lines. Instead of just leaving, I stopped, waited, and when he finally looked our way, I gave him a big smile and waved at him. He did the same back.

My motto on life has always been �let the other person be the asshole�. Might be an easy way out, but I have always felt that if you let the jerks get the best of you, they win. Kill them with kindness, and it fucks with their minds.

That is how I plan on handling this man for the next two months.

Let the rest of the parents yell at him form the bleachers. Let them call him names (a few did in the first game Saturdaystory and photos here, if you missed it yesterday). I�ll just keep going to Codeman�s games (not his team�s games� there is a difference).

There are enough other people there calling him on his coaching decisions.

No reason for me to say a word.

I would rather keep him guessing��


I think I will just call it a night.

�Six Feet Under� is about to start, and I don�t really need any more aggravation this weekend.

Later, friends��.

Antique - Futuristic


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