Category: Life

What the fuck, Prednisone?

Dear Prednisone,

What happened, man? I thought we were cool. I thought we were tight. I had energy. I was getting shit done. This was the perfect time of year to be on you. We were living life to the fullest. At 80mg a day, you were my bestest friend ever. Sure, you made it so I would wake up at 3am wide awake occasionally, but it didn’t impact me too much. Then the muscle cramps hit, but I drank more water! I got shit done. I lifted all the weights! I cooked all the things! I crafted all the crap!

Then, I was cut to 40mg a day.

Now. Now you have betrayed me. The cramps are worse. My hands palsy up like I’m having a stroke. My leg cramps are worsening. I had to take breaks, for Christ’s sake! The energy, she is waning. You are sucking more and more potassium, magnesium, and calcium from my system. Why? Why have you forsaken me? Have I not swallowed your bitter pills on a fairly regular schedule? Have I not taken you with food and/or milk? Waking at 3am meant I at least got a few hours of sleep. But last night….there was no sleep. What did I do?

And MOONFACE! You FUCKER! YOU ABSOLUTE FUCKER! That’s just not even right! I have been losing inches, it was showing in my face and now? BAM! Mama June face! Nevermind the “Hey let’s eat ALL THE CARBS ALL GODDAMN DAY!” Ass! And THRUSH! Well. I can deal with the thrush. That’s not so bad.

We was cool, yo. Why you gotta play a sista like that? What happened?

What. Happened.

Weekend Prednisone High

I’m on Prednisone. A lot of it. 80mg a day. That’s a lot. One of the side effects is “I CAN DO ANYTHING”. I feel like Aelerelean when he first got his Adderall. Last weekend, I reopened my Etsy shop. There were 3 items before. Now there are 12. I made those. All of those. Last weekend. Yeah.

This feeling apparently wears off after a while. This weekend was “MUST COOK THINGS AND CLEAN THINGS!”

There is a nook in my living room. It’s useless. Some built-it wall unit for people with TVs less than 25″. And it’s on a side wall. Not centered. So it’s the crap catcher. It hasn’t been touched in literally years. Does this mean I don’t clean. YES. YES, IT DOES.

This nook is out of the way. No need to even walk by it. You can’t really. You have to maneuver over to it. Like, move a speaker and the sub woofer. You have to really want over there.

And today I did.

What did I find?

  • A box of remotes: Replay TV, HD-DVD player, PS2 dvd remote with the plastic still on it, receiver I long since gave away, Sirius remote, two more Harmony remotes (they like to die whenever. I need backups)
  • Playstation Eye Toy (camera) Used once
  • PS2 memory card adapter reader. Still in the box.
  • 3 PS2 memory cards
  • Wii nunchuck (I gave away my Wii last year)
  • backs to 2 Wii Motes
  • 2 FM antennas for previous receivers
  • Wii Steering wheel new in box
  • Wii classic controller new in package
  • Pilates and yoga dvds, some opened, very unloved
  • Dinosaurs. The ABC sitcom from the 90’s. All four seasons.
  • A picture of Jarrett
  • Diplomas. Plural. Two. My reprint from undergrad (they changed the name) and my Masters. I should frame them or something.
  • The PS2 with a memory card in it.

Jesus Christ hoard much? Yeah most of that got tossed, everything else got cleaned up….and put right back where it was. But it’s CLEAN NOW.

The Gym

In early June I went back to the gym.

Yes. The gym.

I took my first weightlifting class as my PE requirement for college. It was glorious. Lifting heavy things felt so good. Since then I have lifted weights on and off. For about 17 years or so. I joined World Gym in 1998 after I graduated and got a real job. It turned into Gold’s and they started spamming locations all over town. Once I moved, I began to hate the going. There was nothing wrong with the gym. They had all kinds of amenities: a pool (used twice), basketball court (used never), exercise classes (used a lot. I miss Body Pump and Body Flow), cardio theater (used a lot), and machines as far as the eye could see. What more could you want?

To not have to cross I-35 on Parmer after work.

“Go before work!” Fuck you, I like sleep. I tried it. Hated it.

So I quit. After not going for a long time. Felt good. Bought a rowing machine. “I like the rowing machine! I could row all day!” Yes, I actually said this. I rowed a few times a week for a few months. Then I stopped. Because I was bored. “But couldn’t you watch TV?” Nope. Too low to see the tv. So I could only hear it. And it made my ass hurt. Then I saw a show called BollyFit on Veria.  Hey, I’ll try that. Did that for a couple of months. I didn’t hate it. But I was still bored. So I gave that up. Took 3 Zumba classes. Neat, but too far away. Took exactly ONE free Crossfit class. Oh my hell, no. So I sat and thought. What do I like to do? Run? Oh hell no. Jump around, looking like an idiot? No. Yoga? Not by itself. Weightlifting. Well…yeah. I like to lift heavy things over and over until I can lift heavier things. So why don’t I find a place where I can do that? I could do it at Gold’s (screw them) or I could buy my own (no room). Or…I can go to a place right in the middle between work and home. Take my clothes with me. Yeah, let’s see how that works out.

It works out beautifully.

I go to a tiny gym that’s in a strip mall. The equipment is well (ab)used. There is a power lifting room, a leg room and a boxing room as well as the main floor. There is not real layout (that I can tell). Machines are put where ever they fit (or don’t). There’s exactly 6 cardio machines: 2 each of treadmill, elliptical, and bike. There’s rarely anyone on them, but the power room is more popular than 6th street during SXSW. I pay more for one year than I would if I joined Lifetime Fitness for 3. But I actually go to this gym and would never go to Lifetime. I know I wouldn’t. Even though they probably have nice AC.

Oh, did I mention that my gym has no AC? Yeah… There’s nothing like going in on a 107 degree day and gripping metal for an hour or two. When everything you touch is room temp and room temp is 100. When the multitudes of fans blowing on you feels like a hot hair dryer and you jump on a cardio machine to sweat as fast as you can so it feels cooler. But hey, at least you’re always warmed up, yeah?

Now, I don’t know if this is because of my diet or because of the buckets of sweat I’m exuding but I realized something about myself now that I’m back in the gym.

I stink.

This is not basic b.o. mustyness. This is not the smell of unwashed ass. This is not the scent of unwashed con attendee on day 3. This…this smell is something else. It’s sharp. It’s tangy. It’s perhaps the smell of Satan’s own sweaty ballsack. This smell is so bad, so strong, that when I wash my workout clothes THEY STILL SMELL. “Soak them in the washer with vinegar!” Nope. They smelled like a Satan’s sweaty ballsack salad. Can’t use fabric softener because it can interfere with the moisture wicking properties (Under Armour is FUCKING AWESOME). I think I figured that out, though. I was hanging my clothes to dry (stupid $60 bra). This last time I said “fuck it” and put them in the dryer on low. So much better. But lord, where does the smell come from?? I have sweated before and never have my clothes smelled like this. Maybe I’m picking up the smell of the gym itself, I don’t know.

I also discovered that I sweat like crazy from the back of my head. It’s not just a little damp, this is full on someone-dumped-a-glass-of-water-at-the-back-of-my-head sweat. This is a new phenomenon to me. And it grosses me right out. I can’t tell you why. I don’t care about the sweat dripping off my brow or running down my face. But feeling it drip and roll around the back of my head in my hair? YUCK.

I don’t have an ending to this post.

Deepest apologies to Dr. Seuss

I am Sam

I am Sam
Sam I am

That Sam-I-am
That Sam-I-am!
I do not like that Sam-I-am

Do you like squats for your hams?

I do not like them, Sam-I-am.
I do not like squats for my hams.

Would you like them with a bar or thin air?

I would not like them with a bar or thin air.
I would not like them anywhere.
I do not like squats for my hams.
I do not like them, Sam-I-am

Would you like them in a cage?
Would you like them with help from a web page?

I do not like them in a cage.
I do not like them from a web page.
I do not like them with a bar or thin air.
I do not like them anywhere.
I do not like squats for my hams.
I do not like them, Sam-I-am.

Would you do them with a box?
Would you do them with a padded fox?

Not with a box.
Not with a padded fox.
Not in a cage.
Nor with help from a web page.
I would not do them with a bar or thin air.
I would not do them anywhere.
I would not do these goddamn squats for my hams.
I do not like them, Sam-I-am.

Would you? Could you?
in a car?
Do them! Ass to grass!
Here they are!

I would not, could not, in a car!

You may like them.
You will see.
You may like them
in a tree?

I would not, could not in a tree.
Not in a car! You let me be!

I do not like them with a box.
I do not like them with a padded fox.
I do not like them in a cage.
I do mot like them with help from a web page.
I do not like them with a bar or thin air.
I do not like them anywhere.
I do not like goddamn squats for my hams!
I do not like them, Sam-I-am.

A train! A train!
A train! A train!
Could you, would you
on a train?

Not on a train! Not in a tree!
Not in a car! Sam! Let me be!
I would not, could not, with a box.
I could not, would not, with a padded fox.
I will not do them in a cage.
I will not do them with help from a web page.
I will not do them with a bar or thin air.
I will not do them anywhere.
I do not like them, Sam-I-am.

In the dark?
Here in the dark!
Would you, could you, in the dark?

I would not, could not, in the dark.

Would you, could you, in the rain?

I would not, could not, in the rain.
Not in the dark. Not on a train,
Not in a car, Not in a tree.
I do not like them, Sam, you see.
Not in a cage. Not with a box.
Not with help from a web page. Not with a padded fox.
I will not do them with a bar or thin air.
I do not like them anywhere!

You do not like squats for your hams?

I do not like them, Sam-I-am.

Could you, would you, with a goat?

I would not, could not with a goat!

Would you, could you, on a boat?

I could not, would not, on a boat.
I will not, will not, with a goat.
I will not do them in the rain.
I will not do them on a train.
Not in the dark! Not in a tree!
Not in a car! You let me be!
I do not like them with a box.
I do not like them with a padded fox.
I will not do them in a cage.
I do not like them with help from a web page.
I do not like them with a bar or thin air.
I do not like them ANYWHERE!

I do not like goddamn squats for my hams!

I do not like them, Sam-I-am.

You do not like them.
SO you say.
Try them! Try them!
And you may.
Try them and you may I say.

If you will let me be,
I will try them again.
You will see.

I’ve blown out my knees!
I did, I did you see!

Fuck you and your boat.
Fuck you and your goat.
Fuck you and your rain.
Fuck you and your train.
And your car. And your tree.
They have completely blown my knees, you see!

So up your ass with your box.
And up your ass with your padded fox.
And sideways up your ass in a cage.
And doubly so with help from a web page.
And I will whimper here and there.
I will whimper EVERYWHERE!

I do so hate
goddamn squats for my hams
Die in a fire, Sam-I-Am.


A week ago I noticed a lump under my tongue. It wasn’t painful if left alone, but it existed and it bothered me. If I ate, it got sore like an over exercised muscle. I poked at it and just made it hurt worse. What the hell could this be?

TO THE INTERNET! *whooosh*

First I asked The Google “lump under tongue.” Don’t do that. One of the first links was “Salivary Gland Diseases and Tumors.” AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Once that panic was over, realized that it was probably a blocked salivary gland. They happen. Not often, but they do. That calmed me down some. But in the back of my mind all I could think of was “CANCER! TUMOR! A BIT OF ABSORBED TWIN!”

I looked back at the last couple of weeks to see if something had changed. Well, I made a lovely (if dry) lamb’s liver pate. Was it an allergic reaction (oh god no. I love me some liver)? Well what. I don’t DO anything, I hadn’t speared the underside of my tongue with a mini trident, what the hell. Ah, it wasn’t what I DID it’s what I didn’t do.

I haven’t been thirsty. I haven’t been drinking hardly at all with my meals and I certainly hadn’t been drinking while sitting at my desk. Why? Fuck if I know. I just didn’t want to drink.

So, working on the assumption that what I had was a simple blocked gland, I made a point to drink a bit more, eat sour candies to stimulate the saliva and even went so far as to squish that sack of whatever to push out the blockage. Don’t. Don’t do that last one. That shit HURTS.

Saturday afternoon:
So, I went to the doctor that following Saturday. Where I was told 1) she had never seen anything like this before and 2) you don’t have salivary glands under your tongue. Oh really? Then what is a sublingual gland? *eyeroll* I walked out of there with a prescription for a lidocane gargle and a referral to an ENT doc.

Yes. Lidocane gargle. Lidocane, a numbing agent. Gargle, “to wash one’s mouth and throat with a liquid kept in motion by exhaling through it.” These things do not go together. You don’t want to gargle with this. And you certainly don’t want to swallow it. It’s a numbing agent. Meaning, if something goes down your throat, you can’t feel it and you could choke. Why are these two words together?!??! In any case, I filled it, but didn’t use it because it just stopped hurting. And it got smaller and firmer, which freaked me the fuck out. My appointment with the ENT wasn’t until Thursday. Leaving me a plethora of days to freak out about this stupid ass lump.

Finally, it was Thursday. See the doc, open wide, he pokes and prods and says “you been drinking your fluids?” “nope.” “Welp, that’s it. You have a blocked salivary gland. We’ll numb you up, try to push it through, but if we can’t, we’ll fish mouth it.” Do you know what that means? Think for a second how a fish opens it’s mouth. Yeah. he meant “cut a slit and push it out.” I’m okay with that, but the term “fish mouth”. Ew. Now I knew for sure what it was but I still had to wait until the next MONDAY (yesterday) to actually have it done.

I arrive bright and early (11am). They sit me in a chair and hand me some lidocane (cannot seem to get away from this stuff) to numb the area for the shot. That shot. Best shit ever. I didn’t feel a damn thing. At all. I didn’t feel the shit, the cutting, the digging, the probing, nothing. The most I felt was pulling. Like he had the stone and it wouldn’t come out. Oh I didn’t mention that? The blockage was a stone. Like a kidney stone but waaaaay less painful. Yes, you can get these in your salivary glands. 30 minutes, two stitches, three stones. No I didn’t get to keep them.

Once I was done, that’s when it began to hurt. Almost as if someone had been cutting into my mouth! It was sore, it ached and ached all along my jawline. By the time I got to a bottle of Tylenol, I was ready to punch someone. Tylenol worked. Then it wore off a few hours later. Then I took another dose. I didn’t even notice the second dose wearing off. How awesome is that. Mouth heals incredibly fast.

So, what have we learned from all this?
–You can get stones in your salivary glands
–Your mouth heals very fast

WindowsUpdate_80243004 error


  • You’re running Windows update for Windows 7 or Windows 2008 R2 (I ran into this with Windows 7 after a year of no updates.)
  • You see that the update has failed with error 80243004.
  • Your notifications area is abnormally large

How to Fix:

Weird fix for a common problem.

Goddamn Cupcakes

I like cupcakes. I really do. But I didn’t give a rat’s ass about cupcakes before my friend’s wedding. She didn’t have a cake. She had cupcakes. So what? Mini cakes. Same thing right? Oh God no. There was something about these cupcakes (Delish Bakery). They were awesome. Perfectly moist, perfectly flavored, simply elegant.

Goddamn Elegant Cupcake


As much as I love these cupcakes, it’s a pain in the goddamn ass to get to 3rd street. Downtown Austin blows. Getting there, finding parking, not getting hit by other pissed off drivers…ugh. I try, though. Every so often I just want a damn cupcake and I brave downtown to get some sweet, sweet, delicious cupcake action. Now, there are MUCH CLOSER cupcake places than Delish. I can walk to one. But I don’t. Why? Well, walking blows. And because it’s just not a Delish cupcake. At all.

After I tried and failed to secure a proper cupcake stash (they freeze AMAZINGLY well), I said “well, fuck it. I’ll give this place up in Cedar Park a shot.” It’s called Gigi’s Cupcakes. It’s a franchise. It has great reviews for taste, not so much for selection. And it’s way the fuck out in Cedar Park. Fine. When I walked in I immediately saw why this place gets great review: Frosting Junkies. You guys kill me. A cupcake is not just a delivery mechanism for frosting. It is the mix of moist flavorful cake and the right amount and taste of the frosting. You may disagree. And that’s fine. If you can live your life knowing that you are the wrongiest wrong person that has ever walked the earth (along with you bastards that like to fuck up brownies and cookies with–ugh–nuts!) then that’s fine. I mean look at this cupcake:

Your cupcake is broadcasting it's failings

Look at that MOUND of sugar! Do you know what this cupcake is saying to me? “My cake is weak.” When you have to rely on a mountain of frosting you are telling me that your cake is not strong. It is not a strong cake. It must have aerial support. This. This will not do. Slightly deflated I ordered 6 cupcakes: 2 wedding cake, one Italian cake (which probably has nuts and I was a moron and didn’t ask first), one lemon icebox, one lemon glaze, and one chocolate chip cookie dough. Because cookie dough is awesome.


Lookit all dat sugar!

First of all, why do you not have the basics? Is Wedding Cake supposed to be your plain jane vanilla? I judge on plain flavors. Because face it, if you can’t get basic vanilla down then what hope do I have for your “wackier” creations. Like the S’Mores cupcake. I wish I could have taken a picture of it in the case. It looked like someone rolled a cupcake in the toppings tray at an ice cream place. There was just too much going on. On the flip side, when Delish had a S’Mores cupcake, again, it was elegant. A chocolate cupcake with a toasted meringue. But I digress.

So I get these bad boys home. After dinner I decided I would try the chocolate chip cookie dough one. Right off the bat I was annoyed. I have a big mouth and yet I could not take a bite big enough to get both cake and frosting in one go. Grrr. Fine. SO I ate a bit of frosting. Guys, it was glorious. It tasted like they figured out a way to make whipped cookie dough. It tasted EXACTLY like Toll House (okay, better) cookie dough. This made me ridiculously happy. Then I tasted the cake. Total letdown. All of the flavor in the frosting didn’t make it to the cake. It was more chocolate chip muffin than cake. BUT, when put together (after scraping half the frosting off) it was perfect. It really was. It was what I was talking about: the perfect mix of frosting and cake, flavorwise. I was pleasantly surprised.
Cake Grade: C. Sorry, but the cake itself was kind of bland. Something was missing.
Frosting Grade: A+. Tasted exactly like I imagined it should!
Total Grade: B+. Together, they were great.

The Bad (compared to Delish):
–Frosting is heaped on like it’s never going out of style.
–No plain flavors. I don’t need wacky inventive all the time.

The Good (compared to Delish):
–Larger sized cupcake.
–Don’t have to find parking downtown


I like food. I like good food. If I take the time to sit and eat (as opposed to grabbing something while I’m working/gaming) I want it to be good. And in my brain, good == high calorie tasty tasty. I decided to start keeping track of what I eat everyday.  And I learned something.

I eat like shit! Holy balls! A small Oreo malt from Potbelly’s? 900 calories?!?!?? Goodbye Oreo malt. You will be missed.

I started bring in my breakfast from home instead of Jack in the Box (Oh God, grilled breakfast sandwich so full of salty, buttery, greasy goodness) or McDonald’s (Why do you put crack in your McGriddles? Egg McMuffin, I don’t know how to quit you). Central Market Whole Grain and Flax Seed waffles. These are surprisingly tasty! One of these with a smear of peanut butter (or without!). Mmmmm, good. My breakfasts were averaging maybe 150 calories. By lunch, I wasn’t starving but I could easily eat a baby.

Today, however, I left a little too late and the store was out of my waffles. I gave up and went to Sonic. 2 Jr. Breakfast Burritos. Breakfast: 527 calories. Dear lord, that’s a lot! But I have not felt this full of energy in about a month. Why? PROTEIN! I had given up my precious precious morning protein without even realizing it! I love you, protein. I love you in your many animal forms: eggs, pig, cow, lamb, chicken…mmmmm. I love me some animal based protein.

Protein. Good for productive mornings.

Good Idea, Shit Execution: Austin Beerfest

March 31st, I and two others attended the Austin Beerfest out at the Travis County Expo center. I thought “cool! drink beer all day!”. This was my attempt to get out more and do more stuff around town. Stuff outside of what we normally do. This experience would lead me to believe that the best course of action on a beautiful looking spring day in central Texas is to stay the fuck inside and play vidya games. Seriously.

Warning Sign?

It all started when I saw a Groupon for $35 for admission for two to this fest. Groupon fucked up and I ended getting 2 pairs of tickets. Goddammit. Fine. In the days leading up to the event, Aelerelean was sick. Like, really sick. Not just allergies kind of sick. Got sent home from work, sick. So when the Saturday arrived, I almost said “fuck it. I’ll eat the money, you’re sick.” but before I could, he said “when are we leaving.” We gathered up another friend and headed out for the Expo center.

In the car

So, here we are, merrily motoring down the road towards the expo center. We get to the gate that is the usual gate for entering this place. Every carnival, every hockey, it’s always this gate. Today, however, this was not the gate we were looking for. There was a sign. A small sign hanging on the closed gates saying “Gate 3 —>”. In other words, keep moving. We were lucky that we saw it. Others were not. They had turned into the entrance (I don’t know why or how) only to be told by someone that they were at the wrong gate.  Onward we push.

Still in the car

Aelerelean pulls into the center turn lane. I pipe up “hey, that gate is also closed! why are we in the turn lane?” Why? Because the gate we needed was actually off of Decker Ln. proper, where Loyola turns into Decker. More than half a mile from where we were now. Yes. The line was that long. And not moving. Fuuuuuuck. We joke, we laugh, we talk. We sulk, we grumble, we threaten to throw shit atcars getting out of line, going through the light, making a u-turn and cutting through the gas station.

Still in the goddamn car

We finally can see the light only 3 cars ahead of us. It has been a great many years since I had been here. I forgot that multi-lanes Loyola turned into to TWO LANE DECKER. TWO LANES, ONE EACH WAY! THREE FUCKING DIRECTIONS OF TRAFFIC FUNNELING INTO ONE HORRIBLY MAINTAINED FUCKING LANE. Kill me now. We could have turned back. We could have. We should have. But goddammit, the tickets were bought, we’d been in the car for at least an hour. BY GOD WE WERE DRINKING SOME FUCKING BEER! We finally turn onto Decker, towards the fabled Gate 3. The light changes and our ass is hanging out blocking traffic. Aelerelean gets upset because “they’re going to hit us.” I roll my eyes. Why? The people we are “blocking” are turning right. Onto Decker. Going the same fucking place we are. They’re not going to hit us, for fucks sake.

Jesus Christ I’m sick of this car

We inch (notice I didn’t sat “motoring”?) along the road. And watch as cars pass us going the other way. Leaving the event. Wait, what? It didn’t start until 2? It’s maybe 3! What’s going on? Oh there was another event before this one and they are emptying out. Oh, n problem. Wait, why is the sheriff leaving? Three frat boys pass us going toward Gate 3. On foot. No shit, they parked at the gas station and walked.

Is that the gate????

GATE 3!!!!! We’re here! In line. To park. For $10 (oh did I mention that there was no mention of a parking fee?). Hey, who is that up there? THE FRAT GUYS. THEY BEAT US. We inch our way along. Is that ONE PERSON TAKING MONEY FOR PARKING? No. Two. Whoopie. Another 20 minutes to get through the now split line.
Notable sightings at this stage:
–Frat Boys on foot. They were inside long before we had even parked.
–Guys who got a cab, found out there was a parking fee, dropped the guys off, made a u-turn and left.
–Williamson County Constable doing 2 things: jack and shit.
–Two guys got out of a car right at the turnoff into the parking lot entrance road, and a girl drove off in the car while they walked. Fuck paying $10.

If I had a ten I would have given it to you in the first fucking place

Finally. Our turn to pay for the privilege of parking in one of the worst maintained parking lots ever. Since this debacle was my fault, I ponied up a 20 dollar bill for parking and was immediately asked “Do you have anything smaller? we’re running short of $10’s”. It’s not even 2 hours into the event AND YOU’RE ALREADY OUT OF CHANGE? We all just stare at her, wordlessly. Because now, in our minds, she’s the only thing between us and sweet sweet beer. She gives me my change, directs us to parking (“cars are gonna be comin’ at ya for a while but don’t worry, they won’t hit ya!”) and we TEAR ASS towards the parking. Oh look. People directing traffic. Finally. No, there was no one directing shit when we needed it. Just here. We park. “Oh cool! Right by the building. Wait, why is everyone walking past the building?”

What do you mean it’s outside?

Parked, we get out and follow the herd. The herd stops suddenly. I cannot see the front of the line. There are no multiple lines. We’re all in one long ass line. Friend ventures off to gather information. Nothing. Word filters back that if you have a Groupon or Google ticket, you are in the line on the right, regular tickets on the left. We break away and get much closed. I can now see the front of the line. Where there is ONE PERSON CHECKING TICKETS. We are so close, we can see the promised land. And then…

We were warned. We did not listen

A pair of people are LEAVING. Leaving from the very gate we are entering. Surely they need to run out the their car? No. It was not even 4pm. They shake their heads sadly “Don’t go. Not worth it. Soooo not worth it.” But, but I already paid….

We should have listened. Why didn’t we listen.

We get there. Finally. I get my stamp, my beer tickets, Aelerelean’s beer tickets, and head for the thump-thump-thump of the DJ just inside the gate.

First order of business? Bathroom. No sorry. Port-a-Potties. Son of a bitch. We crest a small hill and The Fest is laid out in front of us in all of it’s glory. In the well abused asphalt parking lot of the Expo Center. Let me be very clear here and say that none of this debacle is the Expo Center’s fault. None. They were just the site of the horribleness.  [Edit: It was all the Expo Center’s fault. Exclusivity agreements are 100% rotten ass. Reddit to the rescue:] [Edit 2: Fuck everybody associated with this piece of shit.] Here is a picture of the center:

128 acres. I had assumed (stupidly) we would be in the building marked “4”. We were parked in the lot to the left of “4”. We went from that lot to where the FEST was laid out. The area behind and to the right of “5”. That parking lot area. Minimal trees, Port-a-Potties in the sun. This, I was told, was the best part of the Fest. Since it was still early, the potties weren’t horrible yet. While the guys answered nature’s call, I found a margarita stand.  Nicest pair of ladies ever. Damn fine margarita as well. The cost? 7 tickets. You only got 6 with your admission. You could buy MORE tickets (that line was long as fuck). I paid my 7 tickets. That was 7 tickets well spent. I told the women that people are going to be super pissed because of the horribly long waits to get in. while describing the long wait, I spied the entrance for people who did not pre-buy tickets. That line? 2 people. deserted and so far away from every other entrance. Why? Why do that? I pointed it out to them. “That’s for people who didn’t buy ticket ahead of time???” Yep.

Once the men returned, we ventured forward to the rest of the fest. Oh, did I mention that the margarita stand was all by itself? There was also a lonely lemonade stand and a lonely kettle corn stand. In the sun. No shade.

Beer tickets

These beer tickets were for beers and food. Cool! Samples must be free! This was my mistake. I didn’t read. Samples are 1 ticket. A sample is 2oz. do you know how much/little 2oz is? Not a lot. They were jello shot/condiment cups. These:


Yeah. That small. It had a head of foam on it too. So really? One ounce of beer. Warm beer. Why was it warm? Come to find out, they were still unloading beer from non refrigerated trucks at 2:51 pm. The event started at 2, remember? I tried 3 beers. Beers that could be acquired from any Spec’s, Whole Foods, Central Market, or hell, even HEB. Friend tried 5. See, he bought a margarita, too and had the benefit of the other nonexistent person’s tickets. We both agreed it was the best thing we tasted all day. For 7 tickets. (Aelerelean would like it noted that “It’s not Margarita Fest, it’s fucking BEERFEST.”)

Off in the distance we see a stage. I know there is a band playing because when I did a foursquare check-in, that was the event listed. Not BeerFest, but some band’s concert. If you were there to see them, then I hope to shit you got your money’s worth because I sure as hell didn’t. Finally I was down to 2 tickets. We hadn’t even made it halfway through the “Fest”, the stage remained off in the distance. We did not give it a glace. I turned to a woman who looked like she might be enjoying herself and said “hey, want some ticket? We’re getting the fuck outta Dodge.” Her reply “Hey thanks! I totally understand.”

We made our way toward the entrance/exit. Grumpy, hot, thirsty, beerless. I passed a guy in a pale blue shirt reading “Remember the Oilers.” with the Houston Oilers logo. Best thing ever.

A warning to the others

We reach the gates. And decided t o pay it forward. we began to tell everyone EVERYONE that was in line as we trudged back to the car not to go. “Don’t go. Not worth it, you’ll be disappointed.” some people grinned. Some ignored us. Some stopped and listened. They asked why, we told them. Doubt crept over their faces. “But I already paid!” “I did, too, brother! Eat the cost and just go home!”

Now there are volunteers telling people what line is what. They even have signs. Too bad they’re near the FRONT of the line. By the time you get there, you know where to go. We walk further. Now there’s a guy in a referee shirt directing people where to go. And he’s 100% wrong. He is telling them the EXACT OPPOSITE of what they’re saying at the front. He is also trying to counteract our warning. The friend that joined us said he should have been ashamed of himself for duping these poor people.

We reached the car just as a group of people got out of theirs. We told then not to bother. They stopped. They asked why. We told them. “You don’t get nothing for free?” No, my friend. There is nothing free. They almost got back into the car. We didn’t stop to check.

Getting the fuck out of Dodge

We head toward Gate 3. Halfway down the road, we stop. No one is coming the opposite direction. Why? I look towards the expo center. They opened a different gate. A gate that should have been open in the first fucking place. So now traffic is backing up (still) and blocking our way out. It would be a bad idea to leave the way we came in. We break through the traffic and we blissfully made our way back home.


So that was my experience. I took zero pictures, yet I saw many people who did. Had I thought ahead and posted this earlier, I could have been part of this review. Note where the pictures came from. Yeah. It was that bad. To be fair, I made some assumptions myself. Like 1) assuming it was indoors and 2) not reading what the tickets were for. But this was really the most disorganized event I have ever been to. How are you still setting up at 2:51? How do you fail to publish that parking is $10? And holy shit $10??? After you pay $25 to $200 (why in the FUCK would you pay $200???) then have to pay more to get a decent drink? Jesus Christ! No one directing the miles of traffic trying to get in to the ONE LANE ROAD to the gate? They saw the error of their ways as we left but that was still a clusterfuck because now, instead of going on a light, there is no light and you can be a complete bastard.

Now, the venue I thought was okay. If it were downtown, I wouldn’t have gone. Fuck trying to park downtown. Is that stupid ass train even running on weekends now? Would there have even been a venue close to a station? Probably not. I think the Expo Center catches a lot of shit because of its location on the *ahem* wrong side of town. Which is a shame because no one has a problem going out to the rodeo or carnival. It is plenty big enough to have an event like this probably without breaking the budget. The roads leading to it, however, are shit.

And why wasn’t it inside? Well, in late March/early April in Austin, IT’S NOT HOT. This was a freak kind of weekend. If the breeze kicked up, it was quite nice. But there was no breeze. It was an overly hot cloudless day. Which just doesn’t usually happen at this time of year. The organizers couldn’t have done anything about that. But it most certainly didn’t add anything to the now wasted day.

I shoulda stayed home. Warm beer there, too.

Worst. Event. Ever.

This Is Why I’m Fat

Happy Pi Day!

Me: Oh hey, it’s Pi Day! What kind of pie do you like?
Aelerelean: Uh…apple?
Me: Apple huh?Man, that’s two whole pies in the house. Wait a minute! Goddammit. This is why I’m fat!
Aelerelean: What do you mean?
Me: Instead of “Hey, I’ll go to Marie Callender’s and get a couple of SLICES of pie” my brain immediately went “I’ll go to Marie Callender’s and get a COUPLE of PIES.” Goddammit!