Nobody wants figs

There's a woman in my building who is originally from a town in the U.S. that is famous for figs. I don't know the name of it, but that's what she tells us. And every time she goes to visit her family in the area, she brings back a little box of assorted figs and leaves them on the table in the lunchroom.

Now, it's not exactly girl guide cookies or doughnuts we're talking about here, but nevertheless, usually the little box empties after a couple days. I am still unsure why this is, but such are the mysteries of life.

Anyhow, upon returning from her most recent trip a week or so ago, she brought back more figs. An unusually large box of figs. Not quite Costco-sized (would they even sell such a product? Probably) but still, a pretty goddamn big box.

Today, the box of assorted figs still sits – three-quarters full – in the lunchroom. It has been more than a week. The fig-bringer just noticed how many are left (and the fact that they're starting to go south, freshness-wise) and made a big deal about it, to the point where she seems offended, as though our inability, or lack of desire, to eat all the figs is somehow an affront to her hometown.

At the risk of engaging in a long, stupid conversation about figs, I kept my mouth shut. But seriously, what the fuck did she expect?

They're fucking figs.

The Reboot

This blog is not dead.

Life support? Maybe. But breathing. And fresh off a pretty major facelift, because my old-school Blogger 1.0 template finally kicked it, forcing me to change. Thankfully, I've tweaked the template to something that vaguely resembles the old, though I'm still having comment issues (some posts have comment options, others don't seem to.)

I could've - should've - made the template switch years ago, but I resisted because I don't like change. But aside from the fact I only changed it now because I had to (always easier to be pushed from the ledge than jump willingly), I figure it's time.

I have to re-add some links to the sidebar, so that'll be updated soon enough. And when I'm able to, I'll be replacing the blog header graphic with something that better represents what this blog has become, and what I might be writing about. We aren't 19 anymore, and we don't have stupid mohawks (or sidewalks....really Ky? Christ...) or spend every Friday and Saturday night drinking 16 beers and dropping the bottle caps behind Sean's couch.

And hell, I might even starting writing a little more consistently, so hopefully there's still a few of you around to read it.

So here's to Classic Times 2.0.

Less shenanigans, same bad attitude.

The Definition of an Important Conversation

Scene: Nick is sitting at the kitchen table, using the laptop. Christene is on the couch watching TV. 

The phone rings.

Christene: Hello? ... OK, one second.
Christene rushes to the kitchen table. 

Christene: Nick, I need to use the computer for a second, can I sit down?

Nick: Uh, yeah, alright. What website do you want? 
Christene: Shoedazzle.com
Nick: You've got to be kidding me. I'm not getting up for that.

End scene.