i just want to conquer people and their souls

In my last post I waxed amorous about the King of all seasons: Summer. Things I enjoy about summer include (but are not limited to): - fireflies - reveling in becoming mahogany rather than sullenly accepting my usual skin tone - ending my work at the human processing factory for 67 glorious days that leads into... - my annual self-dubbed "Summer of Me" which essentially consists of me pretending I am Dickie Greenleaf from The Talented Mr. Ripley : * Now there's a man who knows how to mahoganize One thing I do not enjoy about summer is stinky pits. Which brings me to the latest in my seemingly neverending list of embarrassing life moments.  Recently, I made a pilgrimage "out west" (like Sal Paradise, or actually more like an unchaperoned Lennie) to Portland, Oregon. While in Rip City, I began to change and morph into a different, gentler Ronnie. Maybe it was the quinoa flakes I was eating for breakfast, or perhaps the hemp milk I was forced to douse the...

Hola readers! Yes it's been a minute. Last time we spoke I was desperately trying to keep a lid on my hate jar, while the world around me succumbed to the cruel icy stylings of Old Man Winter. We all know my  feelings on winter  but yesterday was the first day over 85 degrees and my reptilian heart began to thaw.  * summersummersummersummer! Yesterday was like when you're waiting for a blind date and they're really late. You've ordered a drink but you can't drink it too fast or you'll look like a sad alcoholic and you wish you had a goddamned smartphone to play with. Finally, your blind date appears and is so smoking hot that you immediately forget that you were recently wishing that their progeny would be co njoined twins ( who were also giant ranga douches who can't spell). Yesterday was like that; so glorious that I would have forgiven it even if it had chosen to end with  a Devil's Whirl .  Anyway, what I'm getting at is that I am finally...

Somebody totally opened my hate jar at work today :(

For those of you not aware of my latest theme, see the previous post . I am currently bringing you on a tour of my life through my many varied and strange jobs. This very journey is being undertaken as part of a quasi "Bucket List" by my friend Big D who will attempt to get his mojo back by living my life in reverse. Let's kick it off with the one that started it all. 1. Itinerant Worker: When I was 17, my mother moved me and my brother from the most hoity-toity suburb of Melbourne to the boganiest suburb in the greater Melbourne area. I have mentioned before this municipality's notions on crime prevention and culture so i won't rehash all that here. All I will say is thank god for Melbourne's "Zone" system which tells you exactly how undesirable you are. We essentially moved from Zone 1 to "grey shaded area". * The white part is the ocean... I wasn't upset with losing the upscale neighborhood because I was in the midst of a ver...

Readers, While I may now be in a period of stable employ, it has not always been this way. Luckily for me, the large urban bureaucracy which hired me has more than enough psychos to keep them busy before they get to an insignificant curmudgeon like myself. However, before landing in this coven of uselessness (where even I look like I dwell in the upper echelons of effectiveness) I toiled in a mindblowing array of menial jobs. In fact, readers, I am a little like the Imelda Marcos of jobs: collecting positions and stashing the memory of them in my own mental walk-in closet of nightmares. My experience is so vast and varied that (to extend the previous metaphor) to retrieve the memory of a specific job I would require one of those Clueless -style wardrobe computers to sort through my past jobs based on categories like "hemisphere", "level of meniality", and "humiliation?" before it would hit a match and the electric motor would whirr, bringing the long...

It's MLK day! Thanks to the good doctor for battling for civil rights and all that great stuff. Here's how I felt when I woke up and realized I didn't have work today:

When I say Mekong, you say "quagmire". Mekong! Yes kids, I finally made it happen. I, Veronica Montebellucci managed to travel to my spiritual home, a place of rash decisions and destruction: the Mighty Mekong! * This is how I left it... For those new to my weblog, I spent this summer on a "working holiday" (as my mother so hopefully put it) in Thailand, but along the way went rogue many a time. One such instance was when my wife (as the youth of today call their close female friends) and I decided, on the spur of the moment, to go to Laos. We both thought that it would be fun to go rogue in the roguiest place of all. And so, after packing up our bindles and taking our dust baths we left the delights of Northern Siam, including our elephant friends: and my jeans (prompting me to finally figure out the title of my future autobiography: I Left My Jeans in Chiang Mai - The Veronica Montebellucci Story. Don't judge, everyone should decide on one. Manimal...