only you can prevent forest fires ... dining with dad ... another bad coffee day ...

only you can prevent forest fires ...
yesterday afternoon, around 1:00, daisy dyke and i were outside and we noticed a smell hovering in the air. daisy thought that it smelled like a brush fire while i, being the oh-so-butch fag that i am, thought it smelled like burning sawdust ... or that smell when you are using a circular saw on a piece of wood and leave it to long in one spot and it burns. (yes, i am very handy when working with wood ... no innuendo intended .... or is there?)

so, the smell is getting stronger the longer we're out there. now, i must mention that previously, around noon, i had been outside and smelled the same thing but didn't think too much about it. however, when i leaned up against daisy's suv this time and was talking to her, my eyes drifted down and lo-and-behold, there was the source of the unknown smell. apparently, some brilliant person--a co-worker i'm sure--decided to flick their cigarette into the arizona-dry mulch that circled the base of a small tree that offers a small respite from the blaring sun. in a perfect circumference around the cigarette--which at this point is nothing but a really long ash and the tail end of a filter--was a smoldering circle of burnt mulch. not burning enough to create a lot of smoke, but enough that i am sure if left unattended, would have blazed to life at the next strong wind.

so, being the ever vigilant follower of smokey the bear's advice that i am, i began frantically stomping on the burning circle ... it wasn't only on the surface. apparently it had been burning long enough that it started to burn down into the mulch, not just outward in a widening circle. so, i continued my stomping and scraping and digging with the toe of my shoe. needless to say, there's a large hole today where there wasn't one yesterday, but i saved the lives of my co-workers and the tree that offers little to no shade.

i. am. a. hero.

dining with dad ...
last night i had dinner with my father. we went to the '4 seasons,' which is a mediterranean-fusion restaurant in the waugh chapel shopping center. it was fairly crowded when we walked in, but we were seated almost immediately--it helps that i'm so famous ... for all the wrong reasons--and i ordered a captain and coke while my father got a pina colada. the inside was cute, though one of the tragedies of the place was that emerill was on the television at the far end of the room and i kept glancing up at his portly mug, though i tried in vain to look away.

for an appetizer, we got the steamed mussels in this garlic, tomato sauce. they were actually very tasty. i was still fairly undecided on my entree so when she came back i had to make a quick decision. i was oscillating between the 'airline' chicken (not sure wtf that name means, but whatever) and the seared yellowfin tuna. i'm a big fan of seared tuna, but the chicken just sounded so good. i went with the tuna.

me: i'd like the yellowfin tuna, please, lightly seared.
waitress: medium rare?
me: lightly seared.
waitress: you want it rare?
me: ::smiles:: yes please.

my father got the stuffed shrimp.

fast forward >>

dinner arrives and i can already tell that my tuna is overcooked, but i decide to cut into it anyway and see. it was definitely not rare but was in fact, medium ... not even medium rare as she had so diligently tried to push on me. whatever ... i tend to avoid confrontation in a restaurant as i don't want the cooks and/or the wait staff to fuck with my food so i ate it. it was tasty, despite the obvious fault, and was covered in sauteed tomatoes, chunks of fresh garlic, capers, a bit of onion and gorgonzola cheese.

aside from obvious flaws with our dining, it wasn't half bad.

another bad coffee day ...
this morning i arrived at dunkin' donuts at my usual appointed time and what greeted me as i walked up the steps and grasped the door handle? a locked door. are you kidding me?

i peered through the glass ... no movement ... a veritable ghost-town.

unknown voice: geoff?

i whipped around to see one of the employees sitting in her van with the door open, just chilling out. i don't know her name so don't ask. she proceeded to inform me that one of the coffee bitch managers hadn't shown up and they are the only ones with the keys. i was so not impressed. i couldn't wait all day so what did i do?

i went to the gas station and made my own coffee with the brown swill they serve there. ugh ... gas station coffee is notoriously disgusting and i certainly wasn't disappointed when i took my first sip. it's like someone used a damp rag and cleaned up a bunch of spilled coffee then rung it out in the carafe. i added hazelnut cream to it and these new little concentrated espresso shots and viola ... barely passable, yet drinkable, coffee.

today sucks. it's friday. i'm clinging to that.

i certainly hope everyone else has a wonderful day. as mrs.twink stated previous, we're comment whores ... do be our johns ... pay us in comments ... i'll give you head.