Ok, so maybe the title is a bit of a stretch but I did almost die.
Let me give you a little back ground on me. I am stupid. Well, not really stupid, but I have a soft spot in my heart for senior animals, senior citizens, children and the handicapped. Since I have this soft spot, I tend to stretch myself a bit thin to help out when I can.
Four years ago around this time of year, I was asked if I wouldn't mind helping an animal rescue that I work with help raise some money. Of course I said that I would before I even heard what they wanted me to do. Yeah, talk about taking a rocket sled on rails to the top of your all time biggest mistakes list. They wanted me to play Santa Clause for photos of your pets with Santa at a pet store fund raiser. Told you that I am stupid.
So let's get it over with.
I know this is all for non-profit but someone please spend a couple of bucks and wash that damn suit. Or at least air it out or something.
So here is the situation, there I am in the suit and another volunteer with a camera. And that's pretty much it. Someone didn't put a lot of effort into coordinating it.
The first several minutes of this was no big deal at all. Not really much of anyone coming by, not even really many people in the store. Then the flood gates opened. But it was nothing great, except for this one yip-yap dog. I really don't know why people think that their pets like this sort of ordeal but they don't. This dog was FREAKED out and wanted to take refuge … in the beard, you know the one that I was wearing. So here is this little kicking ball of joy with very sharp claws trying to climb its way into my chest via a polyester beard. And it's not like you can smack it, its owner is right there. Oh, and the high pitch cutesy voice, they don't like that either.
That's not where I was almost killed. No, no, not at all. If when this slack jawed mouth breathing imbeciles with two rottweilers came in. Of course since these dogs are pretty much just pissed off eating machines, these smucks had to give them cutesy names, Tiny and Jingles. Are you effing kidding me? Does anyone really think that is still funny? So these dogs who have teeth all the way to their tails, who really don't want to be there, don't want to pose for a picture even more than they don't want to be there. So they get them near me and they are trying to go in different directions. It is at this point that the owners think it is a good idea to remove the leashes and just have me hold the dogs around the shoulder area, right where the fucking teeth are. Please god, don't let them think that I am a small child. So one of the monsters is sitting on my foot, at this point I could care less if this dog took a steaming dump on my brand new pair of Bruno Maglis. Just take the damn picture. Just before the picture is snapped one dog realizes that a stranger is holding it and lunges up to try to get into my lap. Yeah, sure, why not. So the other dog gets jealous and it wants to jump into my lap as well. Then they decide to get territorial. Snarls, growls, and teeth being shown while two rotties are in my lap. Well, Merry Mauled Christmas to me. While this is going on the owners think it's funny. "You better come get these damn dogs before I set them free". So the owners get the dogs and yell some commands in a foreign language to get them to settle down. They settle down, we get them fairly close to each other and then take a picture. "Next!" as in this is all you get, no do-overs. I usher the baby eaters off and motion for the next people to bring their dog over. Several dogs pass and this couple bring their Beagle in. Their FLATULANT Beagle I might add. Apparently this dog farts when it gets nervous. Well he must have thought he was going to be on the naughty list or something because there was methane gas flowing like it was going out of style. I get poopy puppy in my arms, we take the picture and I hold him for the owners to come get him. The wife apologies and thanks me when the husband says "Hey at least I didn't bring my python" it's your snake, get it cut into pieces if you want asshole. Of course I just smile and say "yeah".
But that's not even the worst of it. Some old, apparently senile, lady brought in her cats, as in plural. Remember the yip-yap dog mentioned earlier? These cats made that dog look like a godsend. You want to know what it is like to try to hold two cats in a Santa suit and trying to get them to look in the same direction at the same time? Picture trying to hold an octopus that has razors on each tentacle while high on speed. That is sort of close.
One cat is clinched onto my hand with its claws deep into my hand and wrist. The other lovely feline is burrowing into the beard at an accelerated manor. I believe this little fellow might not be enjoying this. So much so that I was about to turn it into some sort of abstract art.
There I am holding my left hand in the air at about a 45 degree angle with this cat digging into my hand and wrist looking like a living pompom, while trying to hold the other cat in my right hand as it is trying to find a way into my rib cage. Just before I release some very choice words, I look up at the line of people watching with this somber look on their face and I remember that this is all for charity.
Someone knock some sense into me before I volunteer for something like this again, please.
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Thursday, December 13, 2007
It’s official, I am insane.
As I was in traffic today I got caught at this really long red light. So I am sitting there waiting for the light to turn green when I caught myself watching all of these birds land on some of the wires that are attached to the traffic light. After a while I notice that some birds would land and then fly off only to land a few feet down the line. I began to wonder why they did this. There was what appeared to be equal room between the birds on the line so they were not crammed. And I just kept watching them do this. Some would land and a matter of seconds, if not instantly, flies off and land a bit down the line. Over and over I attempted to figure out why they were doing this. The only answer I could come up with is maybe the bird that is already on the power line is an asshole.
I worry about myself now.
I worry about myself now.
Come on Mister Weatherman, you can’t be serious.
This morning I was listening to the news as I was getting ready and I heard yet another new weather condition that I had never heard of before. Freezing fog, what is that BS? Even the news guy was like "Freezing fog … really…" In his mind he was saying "Do you think we are all morons? You have no clue what the weather is going to be like."
Remember the weather rock from Spencer's? That might actually be better than some of the "forecast" I have heard lately. I think that they might actually use the dart board method of predicting the weather. My theory is that the weathermen are back in their office tripping on acid when they are getting their forecast together and this is some psychedelic vision that they had transcribed into a forecast. Take a couple of hits and look into your crystal ball, nimrods. I have never seen the movie "Weatherman" but some how I am strangely drawn to it now.
I have figured it out though, my issue with weathermen that is. They have one of if not the greatest gig on the planet, and I am jealous. Think about it, they are somewhat celebrities, get paid a healthy six figures, can be wrong every damn day and still keep a job. Where do I sign up?
My local weather guy could come on tonight and say that it is going to rain cat turds from the ground up and he would be there with that big ass used car salesmen smile the next day telling us that we are going to have a wave of melting sunlight or some crap like that and no one would say shit to him. It's a screw job of epic proportions.
I just wish they could be held accountable, then the forecast would either be a lot more accurate or they would just say "Hell if I know what is going to happen tomorrow, carry you rain coat and a parka but wear shorts"
Remember the weather rock from Spencer's? That might actually be better than some of the "forecast" I have heard lately. I think that they might actually use the dart board method of predicting the weather. My theory is that the weathermen are back in their office tripping on acid when they are getting their forecast together and this is some psychedelic vision that they had transcribed into a forecast. Take a couple of hits and look into your crystal ball, nimrods. I have never seen the movie "Weatherman" but some how I am strangely drawn to it now.
I have figured it out though, my issue with weathermen that is. They have one of if not the greatest gig on the planet, and I am jealous. Think about it, they are somewhat celebrities, get paid a healthy six figures, can be wrong every damn day and still keep a job. Where do I sign up?
My local weather guy could come on tonight and say that it is going to rain cat turds from the ground up and he would be there with that big ass used car salesmen smile the next day telling us that we are going to have a wave of melting sunlight or some crap like that and no one would say shit to him. It's a screw job of epic proportions.
I just wish they could be held accountable, then the forecast would either be a lot more accurate or they would just say "Hell if I know what is going to happen tomorrow, carry you rain coat and a parka but wear shorts"
Ozarkizms
As we are in full swing of the holiday season and Christmas cards from loved ones start to roll in I take this opportunity to reflect back on the holidays. Which often leads me to thinking about family, in turn I begin to think about home.
Ozark is kind of like the TV show Cheers, on acid. Where everyone knows pretty much everyone else, even if they don't acknowledge each other. So after telling some of my stories I have a lot of people who want to go and visit the Land of Oz, I think simply in disbelief. But that is a different story. What I am doing here is a simple reference of Ozarkizms. Think of this as one of those Forbes travel books. These are sayings or phrases that may be heard while in Ozark.
Let's start with some of the social gathering locations.
"The Stop Sign" - Yes, we have more than one traffic control device in town, but there is one particular stop sign that is a bit more famous than the others. Pretty much anyone who grew up in Ozark can tell you how to get to "The Stop Sign" with their eyes closed. This is the location of MANY underage social gathers. Probably has been more beer/liquor consumed here than any bar that is or was ever in Ozark.
"The Old Barn" – Again famous underage drinking hang out. Much like "The Stop Sign" only it's a barn, and down the street.
"The Old House" – Does this really even need a description? Located conveniently between the historic "Stop Sign" and 'The Old Barn".
"The Clay Pits" – An area of town that is owned by the highway department where they would dig clay to be used for road construction. Want to venture a guess as to what we did here?
"Hollywood" – No, not the one in California, not even the one in Florida, this is a field out in the middle of nowhere Ozark.
"San Quentin" - I would love to know who named a place where minors would gather to gather to get wrecked out of their minds after a PRISON. Makes perfect sense to me.
Ok, so you now that you have the layout of some of the social gathering location of the land, we will now move on to other commonly heard phases and sayings.
"Krazo" – Most commonly used nick-name of Ozark, which is simply Ozark spelled backwards. We are a cleaver group that way.
"Man" – This is not a reference to ones gender. This is most often used to start pretty much every damn sentence. "Man, I am tired. Man, I could go for a pizza right about now. Man, where is the party at?" At times this is interchangeable with "Dude".
"The Mall" – Ozark does not have a mall, but there is a shopping center that has been adopted as a mall. This is pretty much a vacant property where local youth hang out and cruise on weekends.
"Martindale 500" – This is a weekly event where the car owning youth and some old losers drive around the parking lot of "The Mall" in a circular fashion much like a NASCAR event.
"Oh Hell No!" – This saying is usually uttered in disbelief of an action that has just happened. For example "Oh Hell No! You didn't just drink my last beer!"
"I'ma have ta f*$k you up!" - A shorten version of "I am going to have to f*k you up. This phrase is typically the predecessor to an "Oh Hell No!" phrase. This phrase is used to express the need for discipline for a previous unpleasant action. Also known as a can of whoop ass.
"Get the hell off of my property" – This saying loosely translated means that the person saying it is advising the recipient of the phrase to vacate the immediate area which is owned by the expresser. Most often used with an unpleasant tone. Often heard in the front lawn/front porch/driveway.
"You mess with me, you mess with my whole family!" – A declaration that I am not alone and if this matter were to turn to an unsettling fashion I will be forced to retaliate with members both in and out of my nuclear family. Most often stated in trailer parks and High School parking lots. Oh who am I kidding, it's the redneck battle cry.
"I'ma have ta call the law!" – Shortened version of "I am going to call the police". Most often used as a means to intimidate one in a manor that there could be pending legal actions taken if you do not correct your current behavior/remove yourself from this area.
"Where is the party at?" – Loosely translated, this means where are people gathering to consume massive amounts of alcohol for no other reason than it is Friday/Saturday night.
"The Beach" – Although there are thousands of miles of costal property, in Ozark there is only one beach, Panama City Beach. All other costal destinations shall be known by the name of the city. For example: Destin, Fort Walton, Miami, Daytona, Long Beach, San Diego and so on.
"The Law" – This can be interpreted as any form of law enforcement, not specifically any one agency. This has nothing to do with the written codes by which citizens must obey.
"Party" – Anywhere that there are more than two people who are drinking.
"Hangin Out" – One or more people, who are drinking.
"Going to the river Sundee" – Typically this could be a question "Going to the river Sunday?" or an answer "What are you doing this weekend? So and so is having a party Saturdee (Saturday) and going to the river Sundee (Sunday)." This even usually involves either owning or knowing someone who owns a four wheel drive truck and driving under bridges on various county and state highways where groups gather to stand in ankle deep water and drink beer.
"River Rat" – One who is "Going to the river Sundee". A regular participant of such events.
"The Block" – A place that you don't want to be, even in the daytime. Often referred to as Compton of the south.
"Yankee queer" – This lovely phrase is aimed at anyone who can be identified as not from Ozark and who has done something to upset a local.
... sigh
Ozark is kind of like the TV show Cheers, on acid. Where everyone knows pretty much everyone else, even if they don't acknowledge each other. So after telling some of my stories I have a lot of people who want to go and visit the Land of Oz, I think simply in disbelief. But that is a different story. What I am doing here is a simple reference of Ozarkizms. Think of this as one of those Forbes travel books. These are sayings or phrases that may be heard while in Ozark.
Let's start with some of the social gathering locations.
"The Stop Sign" - Yes, we have more than one traffic control device in town, but there is one particular stop sign that is a bit more famous than the others. Pretty much anyone who grew up in Ozark can tell you how to get to "The Stop Sign" with their eyes closed. This is the location of MANY underage social gathers. Probably has been more beer/liquor consumed here than any bar that is or was ever in Ozark.
"The Old Barn" – Again famous underage drinking hang out. Much like "The Stop Sign" only it's a barn, and down the street.
"The Old House" – Does this really even need a description? Located conveniently between the historic "Stop Sign" and 'The Old Barn".
"The Clay Pits" – An area of town that is owned by the highway department where they would dig clay to be used for road construction. Want to venture a guess as to what we did here?
"Hollywood" – No, not the one in California, not even the one in Florida, this is a field out in the middle of nowhere Ozark.
"San Quentin" - I would love to know who named a place where minors would gather to gather to get wrecked out of their minds after a PRISON. Makes perfect sense to me.
Ok, so you now that you have the layout of some of the social gathering location of the land, we will now move on to other commonly heard phases and sayings.
"Krazo" – Most commonly used nick-name of Ozark, which is simply Ozark spelled backwards. We are a cleaver group that way.
"Man" – This is not a reference to ones gender. This is most often used to start pretty much every damn sentence. "Man, I am tired. Man, I could go for a pizza right about now. Man, where is the party at?" At times this is interchangeable with "Dude".
"The Mall" – Ozark does not have a mall, but there is a shopping center that has been adopted as a mall. This is pretty much a vacant property where local youth hang out and cruise on weekends.
"Martindale 500" – This is a weekly event where the car owning youth and some old losers drive around the parking lot of "The Mall" in a circular fashion much like a NASCAR event.
"Oh Hell No!" – This saying is usually uttered in disbelief of an action that has just happened. For example "Oh Hell No! You didn't just drink my last beer!"
"I'ma have ta f*$k you up!" - A shorten version of "I am going to have to f*k you up. This phrase is typically the predecessor to an "Oh Hell No!" phrase. This phrase is used to express the need for discipline for a previous unpleasant action. Also known as a can of whoop ass.
"Get the hell off of my property" – This saying loosely translated means that the person saying it is advising the recipient of the phrase to vacate the immediate area which is owned by the expresser. Most often used with an unpleasant tone. Often heard in the front lawn/front porch/driveway.
"You mess with me, you mess with my whole family!" – A declaration that I am not alone and if this matter were to turn to an unsettling fashion I will be forced to retaliate with members both in and out of my nuclear family. Most often stated in trailer parks and High School parking lots. Oh who am I kidding, it's the redneck battle cry.
"I'ma have ta call the law!" – Shortened version of "I am going to call the police". Most often used as a means to intimidate one in a manor that there could be pending legal actions taken if you do not correct your current behavior/remove yourself from this area.
"Where is the party at?" – Loosely translated, this means where are people gathering to consume massive amounts of alcohol for no other reason than it is Friday/Saturday night.
"The Beach" – Although there are thousands of miles of costal property, in Ozark there is only one beach, Panama City Beach. All other costal destinations shall be known by the name of the city. For example: Destin, Fort Walton, Miami, Daytona, Long Beach, San Diego and so on.
"The Law" – This can be interpreted as any form of law enforcement, not specifically any one agency. This has nothing to do with the written codes by which citizens must obey.
"Party" – Anywhere that there are more than two people who are drinking.
"Hangin Out" – One or more people, who are drinking.
"Going to the river Sundee" – Typically this could be a question "Going to the river Sunday?" or an answer "What are you doing this weekend? So and so is having a party Saturdee (Saturday) and going to the river Sundee (Sunday)." This even usually involves either owning or knowing someone who owns a four wheel drive truck and driving under bridges on various county and state highways where groups gather to stand in ankle deep water and drink beer.
"River Rat" – One who is "Going to the river Sundee". A regular participant of such events.
"The Block" – A place that you don't want to be, even in the daytime. Often referred to as Compton of the south.
"Yankee queer" – This lovely phrase is aimed at anyone who can be identified as not from Ozark and who has done something to upset a local.
... sigh
What to get the guitarist on your Holiday Gift list.
I am sure this isn't ground breaking to some of you, but Gibson has released a really cool self-tuning Les Paul called the Robot Guitar (http://www.gibson.com/robotguitar/) which appears to be pretty badass. But that may just be the toy aspect of it. I have no idea if it weights a ton or how much of a pain in the ass it is to restring but I thought it was pretty cool. But if it is worth it and not too heavy and so on but you don't want to buy a new Les Paul another company, called TransPerformance (http://www.transperformance.com/), sells a competing robot-tuning system that the company installs itself into a Les Paul, or a Fender Telecaster or Stratocaster guitar.
And if that wasn't cool enough, Stevie Ray Vaughn's "Lenny" Strat goes on sale in two days (http://gc.guitarcenter.com/guitars/legends-collection/legends-lenny.cfm).
What's a few grand when it comes to the holiday spirit, right?
And if that wasn't cool enough, Stevie Ray Vaughn's "Lenny" Strat goes on sale in two days (http://gc.guitarcenter.com/guitars/legends-collection/legends-lenny.cfm).
What's a few grand when it comes to the holiday spirit, right?
This just struck me a funny
I get an e-mail from one of my buddies that he is getting a tee time for the weekend and wants to know who all is in. Do you really have to ask? I mean come on, it's golf, hell yeah I am in. So we decide to play this muni, which I have only been to once or maybe twice, just for a change. I am not a bug fan of munis because anyone with enough cash to cover the green fees can play and that is typically the way it is, but who cares. I was out with my boys and we were having a good time.
Just about the time we were hitting our approach shots on the 9th we realized that we need to stop at the turn and replenish our refreshments so to speak.
Normal situation while in the club house, get beer, hit the head, buy cigars and whatnot.
Out we walk from the back of the clubhouse and what do I see? This ….
Dude! Someone vandalized your cart! What? You mean you wanted to paint it like that? Ooook.
I got nothing against NASCAR but I never thought that NASCAR and golf would ever mix. With NASCAR everyone is yelling and raising hell, with golf everyone is quiet and patient. With NASCAR you do the same thing over and over again but with golf every hole is different. With NASCAR the fans are drunk, with golf the players are drunk, well sometimes :). With NASCAR everyone tailgates prior to the race, with golf everyone hangs out after the round.
I would have never thought that these two sports would ever find a way to cross paths, but then I got to thinking about it. And these two have a big common interest, advertising. The cars in NASCAR are covered with stickers of sponsors the same is true with golfers. Well, not exactly, with golf the advertisers are a little more subtle, oh and they're not stickers. But they have advertisements all over then, hell I think John Daily would wear a Tampax logo if they paid him. So I guess I can see the common thread but it was still a bit surprising to see the Jeff Gordon-mobile E-Z-GO at the bag drop. But the funny thing about all of this is how proud this guy was of it. When I asked him if I could get a picture of it (no idea why I asked, what was he going to do to stop me) he said "Yeah, and can you send me a copy of it because next week I am painting like Dale Earnhardt's car as a tribute to the Intimidator"… I shit you not.
I ... I … I just don't know what to say.
Just about the time we were hitting our approach shots on the 9th we realized that we need to stop at the turn and replenish our refreshments so to speak.
Normal situation while in the club house, get beer, hit the head, buy cigars and whatnot.
Out we walk from the back of the clubhouse and what do I see? This ….
Dude! Someone vandalized your cart! What? You mean you wanted to paint it like that? Ooook.
I got nothing against NASCAR but I never thought that NASCAR and golf would ever mix. With NASCAR everyone is yelling and raising hell, with golf everyone is quiet and patient. With NASCAR you do the same thing over and over again but with golf every hole is different. With NASCAR the fans are drunk, with golf the players are drunk, well sometimes :). With NASCAR everyone tailgates prior to the race, with golf everyone hangs out after the round.
I would have never thought that these two sports would ever find a way to cross paths, but then I got to thinking about it. And these two have a big common interest, advertising. The cars in NASCAR are covered with stickers of sponsors the same is true with golfers. Well, not exactly, with golf the advertisers are a little more subtle, oh and they're not stickers. But they have advertisements all over then, hell I think John Daily would wear a Tampax logo if they paid him. So I guess I can see the common thread but it was still a bit surprising to see the Jeff Gordon-mobile E-Z-GO at the bag drop. But the funny thing about all of this is how proud this guy was of it. When I asked him if I could get a picture of it (no idea why I asked, what was he going to do to stop me) he said "Yeah, and can you send me a copy of it because next week I am painting like Dale Earnhardt's car as a tribute to the Intimidator"… I shit you not.
I ... I … I just don't know what to say.
This is probably going to piss off some good ole boys
Yesterday a couple of guys that I work with were talking about fishing when one of them mentions something about a collage that they are fans of. A little while later they mentioned something about being champions, since collage football season is drawing to a close I was under the impression that they were talking about football, but then I realized that their team didn't win a conference championship, hell that team didn't even play in the championship game. Which made me wonder what they were talking about? I then realized that they were still talking about fishing. Since they were near and are pretty decent guys I joined the conversation for a bit to find out more.
One of the guys said that he read on one of this schools bulletin boards that a couple of guys from this school won a championship in fishing. What? So I shot the breeze with them long enough to get one of them to send me a link to the story he was talking about. One of the funny things about this is that these guys were doing some serious chest thumping over winning a fishing contest or what ever they call them.
I had to read this article, there was something inside me that said I must read this article, I don't know what it was but I knew it was going to be great. I found a lot of the article humorous bordering on cocky. Like this quote "when you fish as much as they do, you know when you're going to get a bite". Really, so why do you sit there for HOURS then? I know that dinner is going to come but I don't sit at the dining room table all day. That quote was followed by this gem "You can almost predict it", see the dinner comment above. If that wasn't enough we have, "Like a well-played game of copycat, a good fisherman knows what the fish want and then emulates it with technique and bait". You mean food? Like this animal that you are trying to trick which has a brain the size of a grape at best is going to have such a complex rational thinking structure that it can tell weather the worm on your hook is plastic or not? Ever think maybe they are just hungry? Nice job Aristotle, you fooled an animal which I had as a child that would jump out of the only substance that would keep it alive. Yeah, I had fish that would jump out of their tank, they are highly intelligent creachers.
Then the writer of the article had to chime in with this ground breaking revelation "Fishing is a sport of patterns", like cast then reel it in, cast, reel it in, cast, reel it in? That kind of pattern?
As I kept reading I came across something that sort of pissed me off. In this article I read and then re-read, then walked away, came back and re-re-read this line "won a $14,000 scholarship". You mean to tell me that you can get a scholarship for fishing? For fishing!?!? It's not even a sport, hell it's not even a game. It's … it's… it's just luck! I think that they should call it that, luck. That's all you do is sit there and put something that looks like crap that a fish would eat into the water and wait and hope that a hungry fish comes swimming along. I play a wicked game of Lotto, I wonder if they offer a scholarship for that.
This is probably going to piss off some good ole boys that will more than likely e-mail me starting with "Man, you just don't know. Fishing is …"
I got nothing against fishing but come on now.
One of the guys said that he read on one of this schools bulletin boards that a couple of guys from this school won a championship in fishing. What? So I shot the breeze with them long enough to get one of them to send me a link to the story he was talking about. One of the funny things about this is that these guys were doing some serious chest thumping over winning a fishing contest or what ever they call them.
I had to read this article, there was something inside me that said I must read this article, I don't know what it was but I knew it was going to be great. I found a lot of the article humorous bordering on cocky. Like this quote "when you fish as much as they do, you know when you're going to get a bite". Really, so why do you sit there for HOURS then? I know that dinner is going to come but I don't sit at the dining room table all day. That quote was followed by this gem "You can almost predict it", see the dinner comment above. If that wasn't enough we have, "Like a well-played game of copycat, a good fisherman knows what the fish want and then emulates it with technique and bait". You mean food? Like this animal that you are trying to trick which has a brain the size of a grape at best is going to have such a complex rational thinking structure that it can tell weather the worm on your hook is plastic or not? Ever think maybe they are just hungry? Nice job Aristotle, you fooled an animal which I had as a child that would jump out of the only substance that would keep it alive. Yeah, I had fish that would jump out of their tank, they are highly intelligent creachers.
Then the writer of the article had to chime in with this ground breaking revelation "Fishing is a sport of patterns", like cast then reel it in, cast, reel it in, cast, reel it in? That kind of pattern?
As I kept reading I came across something that sort of pissed me off. In this article I read and then re-read, then walked away, came back and re-re-read this line "won a $14,000 scholarship". You mean to tell me that you can get a scholarship for fishing? For fishing!?!? It's not even a sport, hell it's not even a game. It's … it's… it's just luck! I think that they should call it that, luck. That's all you do is sit there and put something that looks like crap that a fish would eat into the water and wait and hope that a hungry fish comes swimming along. I play a wicked game of Lotto, I wonder if they offer a scholarship for that.
This is probably going to piss off some good ole boys that will more than likely e-mail me starting with "Man, you just don't know. Fishing is …"
I got nothing against fishing but come on now.
Oh god, I feel ill
I just got some TERRIBLE news. I ... I just don't know what to say. Just check out the link.
http://ap.google.com/article/ALeqM5hHUnnILZDbNx5iOSKpm7mvRQQeFgD8SUB4BG0
Attica! Attica! Attica! This is an injustice, a travesty if you will!
Cue the funeral music. *swing low, sweet chariot...
http://ap.google.com/article/ALeqM5hHUnnILZDbNx5iOSKpm7mvRQQeFgD8SUB4BG0
Attica! Attica! Attica! This is an injustice, a travesty if you will!
Cue the funeral music. *swing low, sweet chariot...
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Jim, one of the biggest dumbasses I have ever met
Shortly after moving to Texas I began the search for my own place to live. Though some friends I met a guy named Jim. It just so happens that Jim owned a house and was thinking about renting out one of the rooms since he lived alone. It would help him with the mortgage and give him someone to talk to and whatnot. I was not really looking for a roommate but the price was right so I thought I would give it a shot. Other than one past roommate, Tim, all of my other roommate experiences have been hell. I will have to tell you about Nick in another blog to come.
Any way, back to Jim, that idiot that was and still is. In the beginning he seemed like a nice, kind of nerdy, normal guy. But he was just an idiot. Let's see, he is a bit older than I am, ex-military, as far as I knew didn't abuse drugs or booze, had a decent personality, holds down a job as a HVAC guy, but he was just an idiot, as I found out later.
You may be asking "Now Sweezey, why do you think this guy is an idiot?" Well friend, I am glad you asked and I will tell you why. I don't think he is an idiot because he would take a perfectly good cut of beef and pan fry it in butter as opposed to grilling it, nor would I say he is an idiot because he was too cheap to buy coffee filters and stole those brown paper towels from his work to use for a lot of things (including coffee filters) around the house, nor would I say it was because he would use those can air fresheners in every room in the house. Hey it is your house, whore it up all you want. As I have previously stated and as Jim would bring up multiple times in one fashion or another during every conversation, he was in the military which is great, but what is not great is the amount of BS that he forces upon ones auditory senses. Jim likes to talk about how he was "wounded" while in Viet Nam, insert eye roll here. Jim was in Viet Nam that part has been proven, on many occasions. However, what else has been proven is how he got "wounded", this flake lost the tip of one of his fingers in a can opener, A FUCKING CAN OPENER and he is waiting on his metal. Not wounded while fighting off an army of Viet Kong, not wounded while saving a fellow solider, not wounded while escaping from a POW Camp, nope, he got a flesh wound while trying to get into his Beanies and Weenies. This dork thinks he deserves a metal because he is too stupid to work a can opener, A FREAKING CAN OPENER! Not even an electric one, a hand crank one. Forrest did it to himself. But that's not the only reason that he has proven himself worthy of the crown of Idiotroplis, oh no we can't quit there. For some reason he thinks it is impressive to brag about how he does not have felling in two of his fingers because of the military. He will tell you that you could hold a flame to them and he couldn't feel it and wants people to pinch his fingers and stuff like that all the time. I asked him if he would let me slam them in the door but he didn't go for that. So one afternoon he was working on someone's car air conditioning when I come home. I see Jim under the hood of this car and instantly think to myself "where is my video camera?" because I knew something was going to happen, all I had to do was to wait. In an effort to keep from missing the upcoming entertainment, I went inside, got a drink and came back out to watch with some sort of morbid interest. Jim and this guy are trying to trouble shoot why the a/c unit is not working right. Jim goes into the garage and gets his circuit tester and begins trying to find out what is getting electricity and what's not. Jim instructs the guy to start the engine. Ahh yes, the show is about to begin! As a courtesy I went ahead and dialed 9-1 and just waited until I needed to dial the other 1. So there is Jim, randomly piercing wires with this circuit tester (which lights up when a circuit is complete) when I see him going for a group of wires coming out of the alternator. I had to say something, so I said "Hey Jim, I don't think you want to do that, that's the output from the alternator". No sooner had I finished the sentence when Jim began to invent a new dance. I guess it was called the "Bladder Release Jerk" because that's what he did. So Jim goes in and gets some clean pants and comes back out. But now he has decided that the electrical system is good and decides to see if there is enough coolant in the unit. For several minutes he is pumping coolant into this little car compressor when he ask the other guy if he can tell if the unit is getting cold to the touch and that he can't tell because of the numb fingers. The other guy says "Yeah, I guess so" when Jim decides to see if he can tell when all of the sudden BOOM!!! The hose from the compressor burst due to the extreme pressure and shoots Jim out from under the hood and onto the lawn. Without missing a beat I asked Jim if he could feel that and went inside for a refill. What a freaking idiot.
As if that wasn't enough, one day I come home from work on a fall afternoon and Jim is "working" on the cable box. Great, now I need to go to the bookstore. I think he was trying to figure out a way to get HBO or Showtime for free. Well in his infinite wisdom he screwed up the box, just not bad enough that it didn't work any more but it was bad enough that you didn't know what channel you were watching or what channel you were going to. Sort of like a virtual quantum leap. Later that night we are both in the living room watching TV when Jim switches channels and happens to land on a news broadcast, the weather segment to be specific. And it was a doozy, it would appear that a sever cold front was blowing in. Since Jim works outside mostly he went off to get some weather appropriate clothes ready for the next day. You know, for that cold front that was blowing in, into Chicago! Nostraidiot didn't wait for the end of the broadcast where they tell you that you what is coming up next on WGN. Ironically, it was really warm in Dallas the next day, Jim had sweat his ass off all day. Tisk tisk.
But what really put him in the idiot record books is when he tried to explain the internet to me against my will. Not that I wasn't interested in the internet but I already had a pretty good grip on how it works and didn't need Idioitasaurous Rex to try to explain it to me. In an attempt to humor him I decided that I would let him say his little spill and then haul ass without asking any questions, which would have prolonged the suffering for me. The jest of what the Idiotatola Khomeini was saying was that the entire internet consists of 6 CD ROMs on a computer in California. Yep, you got it. All of the information on the internet, all of the webpages, all of the data files, everything is on 6 CDs on a computer in California. Please god don't ever let this guy get elected president.
None of this would have been a big deal but Jim began to want the rent weekly and often forgot that I paid him the week before. I took pity on the idiot at first, then it became and epidemic and I had to find a more suitable living arrangement. I proposed that we use a calendar and not have to rely on anyone's memory and that way there would be no questions, but he didn't want to go for that. The final straw was when I came home one Friday after work and the house is full of these little girls. You see the people that I met Jim through had moved over seas because the husband's job transferred him. Well they had a daughter that I later figured out that Jim must have been hot for. So he would gather all of this girls friends together, bring them over to the house and call the family, you know so that these little girls could talk to their friend. Oh hell no pervy, I got to cut bait now. I won't even go into all of the creepy stuff he did in regards to that.
I wonder if he ever figured out what happened to his toothbrush. You will have to ask about that one, not going to post it on here.
Any way, back to Jim, that idiot that was and still is. In the beginning he seemed like a nice, kind of nerdy, normal guy. But he was just an idiot. Let's see, he is a bit older than I am, ex-military, as far as I knew didn't abuse drugs or booze, had a decent personality, holds down a job as a HVAC guy, but he was just an idiot, as I found out later.
You may be asking "Now Sweezey, why do you think this guy is an idiot?" Well friend, I am glad you asked and I will tell you why. I don't think he is an idiot because he would take a perfectly good cut of beef and pan fry it in butter as opposed to grilling it, nor would I say he is an idiot because he was too cheap to buy coffee filters and stole those brown paper towels from his work to use for a lot of things (including coffee filters) around the house, nor would I say it was because he would use those can air fresheners in every room in the house. Hey it is your house, whore it up all you want. As I have previously stated and as Jim would bring up multiple times in one fashion or another during every conversation, he was in the military which is great, but what is not great is the amount of BS that he forces upon ones auditory senses. Jim likes to talk about how he was "wounded" while in Viet Nam, insert eye roll here. Jim was in Viet Nam that part has been proven, on many occasions. However, what else has been proven is how he got "wounded", this flake lost the tip of one of his fingers in a can opener, A FUCKING CAN OPENER and he is waiting on his metal. Not wounded while fighting off an army of Viet Kong, not wounded while saving a fellow solider, not wounded while escaping from a POW Camp, nope, he got a flesh wound while trying to get into his Beanies and Weenies. This dork thinks he deserves a metal because he is too stupid to work a can opener, A FREAKING CAN OPENER! Not even an electric one, a hand crank one. Forrest did it to himself. But that's not the only reason that he has proven himself worthy of the crown of Idiotroplis, oh no we can't quit there. For some reason he thinks it is impressive to brag about how he does not have felling in two of his fingers because of the military. He will tell you that you could hold a flame to them and he couldn't feel it and wants people to pinch his fingers and stuff like that all the time. I asked him if he would let me slam them in the door but he didn't go for that. So one afternoon he was working on someone's car air conditioning when I come home. I see Jim under the hood of this car and instantly think to myself "where is my video camera?" because I knew something was going to happen, all I had to do was to wait. In an effort to keep from missing the upcoming entertainment, I went inside, got a drink and came back out to watch with some sort of morbid interest. Jim and this guy are trying to trouble shoot why the a/c unit is not working right. Jim goes into the garage and gets his circuit tester and begins trying to find out what is getting electricity and what's not. Jim instructs the guy to start the engine. Ahh yes, the show is about to begin! As a courtesy I went ahead and dialed 9-1 and just waited until I needed to dial the other 1. So there is Jim, randomly piercing wires with this circuit tester (which lights up when a circuit is complete) when I see him going for a group of wires coming out of the alternator. I had to say something, so I said "Hey Jim, I don't think you want to do that, that's the output from the alternator". No sooner had I finished the sentence when Jim began to invent a new dance. I guess it was called the "Bladder Release Jerk" because that's what he did. So Jim goes in and gets some clean pants and comes back out. But now he has decided that the electrical system is good and decides to see if there is enough coolant in the unit. For several minutes he is pumping coolant into this little car compressor when he ask the other guy if he can tell if the unit is getting cold to the touch and that he can't tell because of the numb fingers. The other guy says "Yeah, I guess so" when Jim decides to see if he can tell when all of the sudden BOOM!!! The hose from the compressor burst due to the extreme pressure and shoots Jim out from under the hood and onto the lawn. Without missing a beat I asked Jim if he could feel that and went inside for a refill. What a freaking idiot.
As if that wasn't enough, one day I come home from work on a fall afternoon and Jim is "working" on the cable box. Great, now I need to go to the bookstore. I think he was trying to figure out a way to get HBO or Showtime for free. Well in his infinite wisdom he screwed up the box, just not bad enough that it didn't work any more but it was bad enough that you didn't know what channel you were watching or what channel you were going to. Sort of like a virtual quantum leap. Later that night we are both in the living room watching TV when Jim switches channels and happens to land on a news broadcast, the weather segment to be specific. And it was a doozy, it would appear that a sever cold front was blowing in. Since Jim works outside mostly he went off to get some weather appropriate clothes ready for the next day. You know, for that cold front that was blowing in, into Chicago! Nostraidiot didn't wait for the end of the broadcast where they tell you that you what is coming up next on WGN. Ironically, it was really warm in Dallas the next day, Jim had sweat his ass off all day. Tisk tisk.
But what really put him in the idiot record books is when he tried to explain the internet to me against my will. Not that I wasn't interested in the internet but I already had a pretty good grip on how it works and didn't need Idioitasaurous Rex to try to explain it to me. In an attempt to humor him I decided that I would let him say his little spill and then haul ass without asking any questions, which would have prolonged the suffering for me. The jest of what the Idiotatola Khomeini was saying was that the entire internet consists of 6 CD ROMs on a computer in California. Yep, you got it. All of the information on the internet, all of the webpages, all of the data files, everything is on 6 CDs on a computer in California. Please god don't ever let this guy get elected president.
None of this would have been a big deal but Jim began to want the rent weekly and often forgot that I paid him the week before. I took pity on the idiot at first, then it became and epidemic and I had to find a more suitable living arrangement. I proposed that we use a calendar and not have to rely on anyone's memory and that way there would be no questions, but he didn't want to go for that. The final straw was when I came home one Friday after work and the house is full of these little girls. You see the people that I met Jim through had moved over seas because the husband's job transferred him. Well they had a daughter that I later figured out that Jim must have been hot for. So he would gather all of this girls friends together, bring them over to the house and call the family, you know so that these little girls could talk to their friend. Oh hell no pervy, I got to cut bait now. I won't even go into all of the creepy stuff he did in regards to that.
I wonder if he ever figured out what happened to his toothbrush. You will have to ask about that one, not going to post it on here.
Humane?
Earlier this week I was in this three day seminar. During this seminar we had lunch catered each day. As is typical in most seminars, during breaks we all sort of get to know each other if we don't already. Mostly small talk, what do you do for fun, where are you from, have any hobbies, and so on. Usually light hearted and often very comical. Most of the break time during these three days was much the same, except for this break we took just before lunch on the second day. We came to a stopping point and the chit chat begins. The subject of what was for lunch that day came up and we began to comment on the previous days selections. About this time the food was delivered and one of the co-seminarians (is that really a word?) asked the presenter if he knew what time he was going to start back up. He lets her know about when he was planning to start back and asked her why. She mentions that she would like to step out during lunch. And he asked if she would like to have something set aside for her. You could really tell that she didn't want to be put in the spotlight but the rest of the room had gotten quite and was watching the exchange between them, when she casually mentioned that no, she would be fine. The presenter, very politely I might add, asked again if she was sure because she might get hungry. He was being very courteous and actually just trying to make sure that she didn't miss anything. She very nicely mentions that is the very reason why she was going to step out and that she had recently become vegan. Which is totally cool, but you would have thought that she said she was going to go on a shooting spree or something. She was hit with this onslaught of questions about why and how long and on and on and on. To which she would answer and simply state that it was no big deal, but there was nothing that was brought to us that she cared to eat. I mean she was being totally cool about it but you would think she was getting subpoenaed.
Over the course of the questioning the conversation somehow turned to hunting. The presenter said that he could never go hunting and that he just didn't think he could shoot anything, which is fine. Another person even mentioned that they didn't like to think of anything that they have ever eaten as being alive. There were a few other comments about hunting when this one guys asked the vegan girl if she eats fish, she replied that no, fish are animals and that she chose not to eat any animals or animal by products. But this is when something sort of odd happened. Some, if not all, of the anti hunting people said that they liked fish and liked to go fishing. Being the a-hole that I am, I decided to stir the pot, so to speak, and ask why they didn't like hunting, specifically deer. To which I got pretty much the same answer from everyone, it was inhumane. Ok, this is a joke right? I am not saying that it IS humane, but it got me to thinking. And I had to ask "so you some how feel that it is less humane to shoot an animal where the animal quite possibly dies instantly and never knew they had been shot nor felt pain as opposed to dragging an animal by it's face against it's will through water with a metal barbed hook shoved through it's face that you put there?" Man I really got to reevaluate "humane".
Over the course of the questioning the conversation somehow turned to hunting. The presenter said that he could never go hunting and that he just didn't think he could shoot anything, which is fine. Another person even mentioned that they didn't like to think of anything that they have ever eaten as being alive. There were a few other comments about hunting when this one guys asked the vegan girl if she eats fish, she replied that no, fish are animals and that she chose not to eat any animals or animal by products. But this is when something sort of odd happened. Some, if not all, of the anti hunting people said that they liked fish and liked to go fishing. Being the a-hole that I am, I decided to stir the pot, so to speak, and ask why they didn't like hunting, specifically deer. To which I got pretty much the same answer from everyone, it was inhumane. Ok, this is a joke right? I am not saying that it IS humane, but it got me to thinking. And I had to ask "so you some how feel that it is less humane to shoot an animal where the animal quite possibly dies instantly and never knew they had been shot nor felt pain as opposed to dragging an animal by it's face against it's will through water with a metal barbed hook shoved through it's face that you put there?" Man I really got to reevaluate "humane".
Things that I miss
As I am sitting here bored, I was just thinking of a list of things that I miss. This may only make sense to Ozark people.
- I miss the way that Y&T's "Summer Time Girls" used to be an anthem for warm weather.
- I miss having summers off.
- I miss the audience participation part of "Mony Mony" at La Vela.
- I miss figuring out what I was doing on Friday and Saturday nights being my biggest concern.
- I miss "rocking out" (LOL) to The Cars/Cheap Trick/The Who.
- I miss wondering which character in "Fast Times at Ridgemont High" that I would be.
- I miss cranking up the Ozzy with the T-Tops off. (Redneck or not, I am going to bring T-Tops back)
- I miss side of the road parties out in the country (The stop sign, the barn, the old house, Hollywood, San Quentin (who the hell named that one?) or the clay pit)
- I miss staying out until the sun comes up and then sleeping all day.
- I miss $5 keg parties with a band.
- I miss the most beautiful beaches in the world being just over an hour away and taking off for them when I wanted.
- I miss Panama City Beach being this little town supported by locals and snowbirds.
- I miss "Fins UP!"
- I miss when one of my friends would put out the call "Regulators, Mount Up!" when we would head out to a party.
- I kind of miss the Martindale 500.
- I miss the days when 15 friends would pile into one hotel room at the beach.
- I miss being excited about spring break (AEA).
- I miss Cross Roads Jam.
- I miss staying up all night with friends laughing until your face hurts every weekend.
- I miss when MTV actually had music videos on it.
- I miss concerts at arcades.
- I miss pulling brodys on country roads.
- I miss hanging out at the river on Sundays.
- I miss "Night Flight" and "Radio 1990".
- I miss the most important thing about a car being that it ran.
- I miss the second most important thing about a car being stereo/rims/window tint.
- I miss being more worried about my parents finding out than I was about the cops finding out.
- I miss being excited about the new Van Halen/Motley Crue/Ratt/Guns N' Roses/Dokken/Tesla/Ozzy album coming out.
- I miss bonfire parties out in the country.
- I miss hearing "We're not going to need this any more" as the top of a fifth of bourbon flys out the cab of a truck window on a Friday/Saturday night.
- I miss when preparing for a beach trip meant getting some cash & packing a toothbrush and a change of clothes.
- I miss senior skip day.
I hate growing old!!!!
- I miss the way that Y&T's "Summer Time Girls" used to be an anthem for warm weather.
- I miss having summers off.
- I miss the audience participation part of "Mony Mony" at La Vela.
- I miss figuring out what I was doing on Friday and Saturday nights being my biggest concern.
- I miss "rocking out" (LOL) to The Cars/Cheap Trick/The Who.
- I miss wondering which character in "Fast Times at Ridgemont High" that I would be.
- I miss cranking up the Ozzy with the T-Tops off. (Redneck or not, I am going to bring T-Tops back)
- I miss side of the road parties out in the country (The stop sign, the barn, the old house, Hollywood, San Quentin (who the hell named that one?) or the clay pit)
- I miss staying out until the sun comes up and then sleeping all day.
- I miss $5 keg parties with a band.
- I miss the most beautiful beaches in the world being just over an hour away and taking off for them when I wanted.
- I miss Panama City Beach being this little town supported by locals and snowbirds.
- I miss "Fins UP!"
- I miss when one of my friends would put out the call "Regulators, Mount Up!" when we would head out to a party.
- I kind of miss the Martindale 500.
- I miss the days when 15 friends would pile into one hotel room at the beach.
- I miss being excited about spring break (AEA).
- I miss Cross Roads Jam.
- I miss staying up all night with friends laughing until your face hurts every weekend.
- I miss when MTV actually had music videos on it.
- I miss concerts at arcades.
- I miss pulling brodys on country roads.
- I miss hanging out at the river on Sundays.
- I miss "Night Flight" and "Radio 1990".
- I miss the most important thing about a car being that it ran.
- I miss the second most important thing about a car being stereo/rims/window tint.
- I miss being more worried about my parents finding out than I was about the cops finding out.
- I miss being excited about the new Van Halen/Motley Crue/Ratt/Guns N' Roses/Dokken/Tesla/Ozzy album coming out.
- I miss bonfire parties out in the country.
- I miss hearing "We're not going to need this any more" as the top of a fifth of bourbon flys out the cab of a truck window on a Friday/Saturday night.
- I miss when preparing for a beach trip meant getting some cash & packing a toothbrush and a change of clothes.
- I miss senior skip day.
I hate growing old!!!!
Thursday, November 01, 2007
Halloween Spirits (like ghost, not the good kind like Hunch Punch)
Since Halloween is in a couple of days there has been a barrage of Ghost this and Haunted that shows on television. And the same kind of stuff on a lot of radio morning shows. Which is fine, it's seasonal.
And I'll admit that I find some of the shows interesting and but these "psychics" who channel and all of this other BS is just comical. I saw one where this guy was going into a convulsion and his voice change and blah, blah, blah, give me a break. Then there was this chick with her divining rods where they would cross when there was a spirit near by. How about they would cross when you tilted your hands in a certain direction? Ever think of that?
And why do people play "Tubular Bells" as a music bed for some of these shows? That is from "The Exorcist", not "Halloween". "The Exorcist", boys and girls, took place in January, not October. Oh and the line "The power of Christ compels you" is from the Exorcist too. Get your horror movies straight!
But I just wonder, why do ghost only come out at night? Do they have a day job and can't take off or something? I just don't get why all of this stuff has to take place at night. If you got ghost, wouldn't you have ghost 24/7?
I am not saying that ghost do or don't exist, I don't know either. But some of this stuff is a bit of a stretch to me. We are building a house and the other day my wife dropped her camera and stirred up some saw dust, it was "orb" central in the next few pictures she took. I guess I better call the Ghostbusters, or maybe I should call the dustbusters! Ya think?
But one of the things that I wonder the most about is how is Parker Brothers able to mass produce portals to hell? All of these radio shows and a bunch of these TV shows have someone with a Ouija board. You know you are a bad Mo-Fo if you can produce a gateway to the other side at will.
And I'll admit that I find some of the shows interesting and but these "psychics" who channel and all of this other BS is just comical. I saw one where this guy was going into a convulsion and his voice change and blah, blah, blah, give me a break. Then there was this chick with her divining rods where they would cross when there was a spirit near by. How about they would cross when you tilted your hands in a certain direction? Ever think of that?
And why do people play "Tubular Bells" as a music bed for some of these shows? That is from "The Exorcist", not "Halloween". "The Exorcist", boys and girls, took place in January, not October. Oh and the line "The power of Christ compels you" is from the Exorcist too. Get your horror movies straight!
But I just wonder, why do ghost only come out at night? Do they have a day job and can't take off or something? I just don't get why all of this stuff has to take place at night. If you got ghost, wouldn't you have ghost 24/7?
I am not saying that ghost do or don't exist, I don't know either. But some of this stuff is a bit of a stretch to me. We are building a house and the other day my wife dropped her camera and stirred up some saw dust, it was "orb" central in the next few pictures she took. I guess I better call the Ghostbusters, or maybe I should call the dustbusters! Ya think?
But one of the things that I wonder the most about is how is Parker Brothers able to mass produce portals to hell? All of these radio shows and a bunch of these TV shows have someone with a Ouija board. You know you are a bad Mo-Fo if you can produce a gateway to the other side at will.
I am starting to worry about myself
Saturday night we went to a wine tasting with some friends. This was kind of a class on wines, which wines go with which foods, what to look for in a wine and so on. Well I must have tasted a lot more wine than I thought I had.
I woke up Sunday to find some blog scribblings. That's not the part that scares me, what scares me is WHAT I was going to blog about.
I guess I had the idea that I would write in my blog when I got home. I was writing about how I was wondering how fish know who has the right of way. Yeah, same thing I said, WTF? I had something to the effect of there are millions of fish in the ocean but you never see them run into each other, how do they know who has right of way under water. I mean the visual of a couple of fish swimming into each other is funny, little fish fender-bender, but why in the hell was I thinking about this? Who is watching fish swim in the ocean and how do we know they don't swim right smack into each other now that I think about it. I had all kinds of details and questions about this subject. Apparently in my drunken stupor I was really sweating aquatic rules of the wildlife road. But where does a retarded idea like that come from? Seriously I am starting to wonder about myself.
I woke up Sunday to find some blog scribblings. That's not the part that scares me, what scares me is WHAT I was going to blog about.
I guess I had the idea that I would write in my blog when I got home. I was writing about how I was wondering how fish know who has the right of way. Yeah, same thing I said, WTF? I had something to the effect of there are millions of fish in the ocean but you never see them run into each other, how do they know who has right of way under water. I mean the visual of a couple of fish swimming into each other is funny, little fish fender-bender, but why in the hell was I thinking about this? Who is watching fish swim in the ocean and how do we know they don't swim right smack into each other now that I think about it. I had all kinds of details and questions about this subject. Apparently in my drunken stupor I was really sweating aquatic rules of the wildlife road. But where does a retarded idea like that come from? Seriously I am starting to wonder about myself.
House Fire
Periodically we get these fliers at the house where someone is coming to our area and for a small fee of usually $10 to $20 they will paint our house numbers on the curb out in front of our house. The theory is that it will help people find our house, even though the numbers are on the house.
One day I am doing something in the front yard when one of these guys comes to leave a flier. He ask me if I was interested in getting my house numbers painted in reflective paint on my curb using a 4 inch stencil. Of course I told him nope. Which he should have left at that, but NOOOO he had to keep trying to make a sale. So he asks why I wouldn't. To which I asked him why would I?
I can paint my own numbers on my curb if I wanted them on there. So he tells me that it is to help the fire department find my house if it caught on fire. Are you F'ing kidding me? I can't believe that is his sales pitch.
I tell him no thanks and continue doing what I was doing. I am trying to be nice here by the way. But he just doesn't get it. He doesn't realize that no matter how hard he tries to sale me on it that I am not going to give him $10 to paint my curb.
So there I am trying to ignore him when he says "wouldn't you want the fire department to be able to find your house if it caught on fire?" Is he for real? To which I say to him "Hey, don't you think the smoke boiling out of my house would be a hint? I am pretty sure firemen, of all people, can see smoke." Then he comes back with (what I am sure in his head was a great point) "What if it caught on fire at night? You see the paint is reflective." I really hated to bust his bubble but he was starting to annoy me, so I replay with "Fire emits light dip shit, pretty sure firemen can see flames too. Move it along."
Like some reflective Krylon is going to be brighter than a house fire.
One day I am doing something in the front yard when one of these guys comes to leave a flier. He ask me if I was interested in getting my house numbers painted in reflective paint on my curb using a 4 inch stencil. Of course I told him nope. Which he should have left at that, but NOOOO he had to keep trying to make a sale. So he asks why I wouldn't. To which I asked him why would I?
I can paint my own numbers on my curb if I wanted them on there. So he tells me that it is to help the fire department find my house if it caught on fire. Are you F'ing kidding me? I can't believe that is his sales pitch.
I tell him no thanks and continue doing what I was doing. I am trying to be nice here by the way. But he just doesn't get it. He doesn't realize that no matter how hard he tries to sale me on it that I am not going to give him $10 to paint my curb.
So there I am trying to ignore him when he says "wouldn't you want the fire department to be able to find your house if it caught on fire?" Is he for real? To which I say to him "Hey, don't you think the smoke boiling out of my house would be a hint? I am pretty sure firemen, of all people, can see smoke." Then he comes back with (what I am sure in his head was a great point) "What if it caught on fire at night? You see the paint is reflective." I really hated to bust his bubble but he was starting to annoy me, so I replay with "Fire emits light dip shit, pretty sure firemen can see flames too. Move it along."
Like some reflective Krylon is going to be brighter than a house fire.
More Why’s?
- Why do people tell other people to "have a good day"? As opposed to what? Have a bad day?
- Why can't I choke some of these stupid m&%*r f*&^rs? Come on, just once. It would make me feel better.
- Why do my kids always wake me from a nap by hitting me in the nuts?
- Why does tequila always sound like a good idea?
- Why does my neighbor always want to try to talk to me when I am cutting grass? Does he actually think that I can hear him?
- Why is it that most people who give unsolicited advice won't take it?
- Why is it acceptable for a complete stranger to come up and touch a woman's stomach if they are pregnant?
- Why is it that every time I hear the song "Lunatic Fringe" by the band Red Rider in my head I hear "Now appearing on the main stage …"?
- Why can't I choke some of these stupid m&%*r f*&^rs? Come on, just once. It would make me feel better.
- Why do my kids always wake me from a nap by hitting me in the nuts?
- Why does tequila always sound like a good idea?
- Why does my neighbor always want to try to talk to me when I am cutting grass? Does he actually think that I can hear him?
- Why is it that most people who give unsolicited advice won't take it?
- Why is it acceptable for a complete stranger to come up and touch a woman's stomach if they are pregnant?
- Why is it that every time I hear the song "Lunatic Fringe" by the band Red Rider in my head I hear "Now appearing on the main stage …"?
Uncle Max
My buddy Matt's uncle, Max, has a little "issue" with booze. So much so that after one doctor's visit Max learned that he had an estimated 8% of his liver function left.
So in an effort to help Uncle Max dry out Matt's mom moved Max in with them once when Matt was in high school. The story goes that Max drank so much that even after three days of not drinking while at Matt's house Max was still drunk. Uncle Max knows how to party!
One day during Max's little stay at Matt's house Matt's mom was making some stew in the crock-pot. So Matt gets home from school and Max comes to after a while. Smelling the stew cooking Max ask Matt if he would get him some of the stew. Matt tells him sure and that he will put it on the dining room table.
Matt goes into the kitchen and gets a spoon and napkin and takes them to the dining room table. He then goes back into the kitchen to get a bowl of stew for himself and Uncle Max. While he is pouring the stew into the bowls he hears this strange scraping sound. He stops and listens for the sound and after a second or two he hears it again. After going to investigate he follows the sound to the dining room where he finds the noise. Max is now sitting at the dinning room table with a spoon in hand SCRAPING the finish off of the table and EATING IT!
Max notices Matt standing there and says "Can I have a glass of water? This stew is dry." Ummm, yeah…
So in an effort to help Uncle Max dry out Matt's mom moved Max in with them once when Matt was in high school. The story goes that Max drank so much that even after three days of not drinking while at Matt's house Max was still drunk. Uncle Max knows how to party!
One day during Max's little stay at Matt's house Matt's mom was making some stew in the crock-pot. So Matt gets home from school and Max comes to after a while. Smelling the stew cooking Max ask Matt if he would get him some of the stew. Matt tells him sure and that he will put it on the dining room table.
Matt goes into the kitchen and gets a spoon and napkin and takes them to the dining room table. He then goes back into the kitchen to get a bowl of stew for himself and Uncle Max. While he is pouring the stew into the bowls he hears this strange scraping sound. He stops and listens for the sound and after a second or two he hears it again. After going to investigate he follows the sound to the dining room where he finds the noise. Max is now sitting at the dinning room table with a spoon in hand SCRAPING the finish off of the table and EATING IT!
Max notices Matt standing there and says "Can I have a glass of water? This stew is dry." Ummm, yeah…
Why?
- Why is it so hard for someone to clear the unused time off of the microwave?
- Why is it so hard for people to make more coffee?
- Why do people feel the need to cut across multiple lanes of traffic to make an exit? Couldn't you just go to the next exit and turn around? Or, oh I don't know, maybe pay attention to what you are doing?
- Why is it that every time I hit a monster drive, my putting falls apart?
- Why is it that the traffic on the drive home sucks the energy right out of me?
- Why is it that people can sue for anything?
- Why is it that I always feel like working out when I am in a position where I can't?
- Why is it that they can't get my food/drink order right?
- Why do the stores already have the Christmas stuff out?
- Why is it that I always want something?
- Why is it that people can't be responsible for themselves?
- Why is it that I expect more from the people around me than I do everyone else?
- Why do I get all of these porno myspace friend request?
- Why didn't I find out about Wesley Willis sooner?
- Why can't I find my Korg tuner?
- Why can't I find enough time to do the things that I would like to do?
- Why do I keep having these weird dreams?
- Why did the Van Halen brothers loose their minds?
- Why is it that because I drive fast that every punk under 30 thinks that I am trying to race them?
- Why is it that the people who are most beneficial to society are paid the least?
- Why is it that there are commercials asking people to give money for homeless/hungry in other countries when we have multiple thousands of the same here?
- Why is it that I always forget about the left-over's in the fridge?
- Why do people talk on cell phones while in public restrooms?
- Why do food delivery trucks only list fish on the back of them?
- Why am I already in the holiday spirit?
- Why are me and my friends such a-holes?
- Why do I keep loosing socks and underwear?
- Why is it that most of the people that I see speeding through school zones are in mini vans?
- Why is it that I think about weird things all of the time?
- Why is it that I feel like such an ass when I discipline my children or tell them no?
- Why is it that I can't sing? No, really, I mean it. I suck.
- Why is it that the little devil guy on my shoulder is always more convincing?
- Why do I love beer so much?
- Why can't I be in Mexico right now?
- Why is it that one bad hole can jack up my entire round?
- Why is it so hard for people to make more coffee?
- Why do people feel the need to cut across multiple lanes of traffic to make an exit? Couldn't you just go to the next exit and turn around? Or, oh I don't know, maybe pay attention to what you are doing?
- Why is it that every time I hit a monster drive, my putting falls apart?
- Why is it that the traffic on the drive home sucks the energy right out of me?
- Why is it that people can sue for anything?
- Why is it that I always feel like working out when I am in a position where I can't?
- Why is it that they can't get my food/drink order right?
- Why do the stores already have the Christmas stuff out?
- Why is it that I always want something?
- Why is it that people can't be responsible for themselves?
- Why is it that I expect more from the people around me than I do everyone else?
- Why do I get all of these porno myspace friend request?
- Why didn't I find out about Wesley Willis sooner?
- Why can't I find my Korg tuner?
- Why can't I find enough time to do the things that I would like to do?
- Why do I keep having these weird dreams?
- Why did the Van Halen brothers loose their minds?
- Why is it that because I drive fast that every punk under 30 thinks that I am trying to race them?
- Why is it that the people who are most beneficial to society are paid the least?
- Why is it that there are commercials asking people to give money for homeless/hungry in other countries when we have multiple thousands of the same here?
- Why is it that I always forget about the left-over's in the fridge?
- Why do people talk on cell phones while in public restrooms?
- Why do food delivery trucks only list fish on the back of them?
- Why am I already in the holiday spirit?
- Why are me and my friends such a-holes?
- Why do I keep loosing socks and underwear?
- Why is it that most of the people that I see speeding through school zones are in mini vans?
- Why is it that I think about weird things all of the time?
- Why is it that I feel like such an ass when I discipline my children or tell them no?
- Why is it that I can't sing? No, really, I mean it. I suck.
- Why is it that the little devil guy on my shoulder is always more convincing?
- Why do I love beer so much?
- Why can't I be in Mexico right now?
- Why is it that one bad hole can jack up my entire round?
Sack and Save
I have a friend named Matt who has a home life that would give Jerry Springer a boner.
He has a raging alcoholic uncle named Max, who we will hear about later. His mother divorced his father and married her ex-husband's brother, who Matt refers to as "Uncle Step-dad". Therefore making Matt his own first cousin, which has to cut down on the cost of family reunions. There is also his sister who used to date women but is now married and has children that Matt loves to introduce as a "recovering lesbian".
So this leaves Matt's dad. From what I know, he is a nice guy, hard worker and all of that good stuff. His dad works for a major electronics manufacturer and has to travel to Asia regularly. You know how when someone goes somewhere they bring their loved ones back a t-shirt or a knick knack as a souvenir? Matt's dad brought him back a step-mom. I don't know all of the details, but on one of his dads business trips he brought back this woman and married her.
So one day, several years back, Matt and his mommason are at the grocery store. After they gather all of their items they head to the checkout. There is a middle eastern woman behind the counter ringing up their groceries. The cashier ask Matt's mom if she had any coupons. Matt's step-mother didn't understand what the lady said and asked her to repeat it. About this time another lady walks up to the conveyer and starts to unload her basket. Again the cashier asked Matt's step-mom if she had any coupons. And again, Matt's step-mother said that she didn't understand her and asked her to repeat it one more time. The cashier turns to the lady who walked up and says in her thick accent and I quote "These foreigners, they don't speak good English". This pisses Matt's step-mother off and she says in her heavy accent "Oh! I don't speaka de good Engrish? You don't speaka good Engrish!! You understanda FUCK YOU!!" and gives the cashier the finger.
Thank god they didn't throw down, I would have hated to have had an "International Incident" at the Sack & Save.
He has a raging alcoholic uncle named Max, who we will hear about later. His mother divorced his father and married her ex-husband's brother, who Matt refers to as "Uncle Step-dad". Therefore making Matt his own first cousin, which has to cut down on the cost of family reunions. There is also his sister who used to date women but is now married and has children that Matt loves to introduce as a "recovering lesbian".
So this leaves Matt's dad. From what I know, he is a nice guy, hard worker and all of that good stuff. His dad works for a major electronics manufacturer and has to travel to Asia regularly. You know how when someone goes somewhere they bring their loved ones back a t-shirt or a knick knack as a souvenir? Matt's dad brought him back a step-mom. I don't know all of the details, but on one of his dads business trips he brought back this woman and married her.
So one day, several years back, Matt and his mommason are at the grocery store. After they gather all of their items they head to the checkout. There is a middle eastern woman behind the counter ringing up their groceries. The cashier ask Matt's mom if she had any coupons. Matt's step-mother didn't understand what the lady said and asked her to repeat it. About this time another lady walks up to the conveyer and starts to unload her basket. Again the cashier asked Matt's step-mom if she had any coupons. And again, Matt's step-mother said that she didn't understand her and asked her to repeat it one more time. The cashier turns to the lady who walked up and says in her thick accent and I quote "These foreigners, they don't speak good English". This pisses Matt's step-mother off and she says in her heavy accent "Oh! I don't speaka de good Engrish? You don't speaka good Engrish!! You understanda FUCK YOU!!" and gives the cashier the finger.
Thank god they didn't throw down, I would have hated to have had an "International Incident" at the Sack & Save.
Something that I have never told but just a handful of people.
Several years back I bought my first house. I remember the day like it was yesterday. Beautiful clear spring day, the sun was shining, little puffy white clouds in the sky, a bit breezy, about 80 degrees. Just a perfect day, even if I was writing a huge check.
I close on the house, funding goes through and I get the keys with no problems. Since I had the keys I started to move in. I thought it might be a good idea to get the important stuff taken care of first. So I put my bed together, hook up the washer and dryer, hook up the fridge, unpack my clothes, stuff like that. And I was doing pretty good too. This was probably because I didn't have cable or internet service yet. I mean it was the first day.
I don't know if it was because this was a new-to-me house or if it was because of the kind of friends that I have or what, but I kept hearing what I thought were strange things. Like I would hear the storm door open and close, but no one would knock or ring the bell. This didn't bother me at first, but then it kept happening as the day turned to night. Now it is dark out and this is my first time in this house other than touring it prior to buying it. And I hear it again, the storm door opens and shuts but nothing happens. Since I was moving in, I had all of the lights in the house on and was moving from room to room. One time as I was walking by the entry way I heard the storm door open again. Thinking it was someone I know jacking with me, I thought I would turn on the porch light and open the door really fast to bust them. When I opened the door, there was no one there. Damn, they must be fast to get out of sight that quick, haha. So I realize that it is the wind blowing the door around and from what I could tell from a brief inspection the door wouldn't stay closed unless it was locked. So I locked it, no more open and closing, cool.
So there I am being a busy little bee just doing as much as I could to get unpacked and things put where I want them when I realized that I was getting tired. Since I couldn't just flip on the TV I thought the next best thing would be to just go to bed. I am guessing it is around midnight at this point.
I am lying in bed, just about to doze off and I hear a strange noise. I can't really describe it in text but it was almost like a strange squeaking/creaking noise. I sat up for a second, looked around and didn't hear it anymore and just shrugged it off. I lie back down, get comfortable and try to get to sleep when I hear it again. WTF is that noise? So I sit up in bed and really listen to see if I can hear it again. Nothing. Once more I lie down, pull the covers up and try to get some sleep when out of nowhere I hear it again! DAMNIT! What is that noise? So now I am on a mission, it's me or the noise, one of us is going to have to go. So I am looking everywhere, front door, back door, laundry room, under the sink, toilet tank, kitchen, you name it. I even decided to check out the closet. I go and get a chair, why I have no idea, but I decided to check the upper shelf on my master closet. I am all the way in the back of the closet, the light is on and I am standing on a chair with my hand searching the top shelf when I felt something. What is this? I slide it to me and see that it is … a paper mask of Mad magazines Alfred E. Newman that just about made me wet all of my clothes hanging there. I don't know why but to see this weird smiling tooth missing face where the eyes cut out kind of startled me for a second.
Forgetting what I was looking for, I took a deep breath in and out and then I heard the noise again. It was my damn nose whistling! Spring time and allergies are in full force. The creepy sound I was hearing was me, half asleep, exhaling through my congested nose which caused it to whistle.
I close on the house, funding goes through and I get the keys with no problems. Since I had the keys I started to move in. I thought it might be a good idea to get the important stuff taken care of first. So I put my bed together, hook up the washer and dryer, hook up the fridge, unpack my clothes, stuff like that. And I was doing pretty good too. This was probably because I didn't have cable or internet service yet. I mean it was the first day.
I don't know if it was because this was a new-to-me house or if it was because of the kind of friends that I have or what, but I kept hearing what I thought were strange things. Like I would hear the storm door open and close, but no one would knock or ring the bell. This didn't bother me at first, but then it kept happening as the day turned to night. Now it is dark out and this is my first time in this house other than touring it prior to buying it. And I hear it again, the storm door opens and shuts but nothing happens. Since I was moving in, I had all of the lights in the house on and was moving from room to room. One time as I was walking by the entry way I heard the storm door open again. Thinking it was someone I know jacking with me, I thought I would turn on the porch light and open the door really fast to bust them. When I opened the door, there was no one there. Damn, they must be fast to get out of sight that quick, haha. So I realize that it is the wind blowing the door around and from what I could tell from a brief inspection the door wouldn't stay closed unless it was locked. So I locked it, no more open and closing, cool.
So there I am being a busy little bee just doing as much as I could to get unpacked and things put where I want them when I realized that I was getting tired. Since I couldn't just flip on the TV I thought the next best thing would be to just go to bed. I am guessing it is around midnight at this point.
I am lying in bed, just about to doze off and I hear a strange noise. I can't really describe it in text but it was almost like a strange squeaking/creaking noise. I sat up for a second, looked around and didn't hear it anymore and just shrugged it off. I lie back down, get comfortable and try to get to sleep when I hear it again. WTF is that noise? So I sit up in bed and really listen to see if I can hear it again. Nothing. Once more I lie down, pull the covers up and try to get some sleep when out of nowhere I hear it again! DAMNIT! What is that noise? So now I am on a mission, it's me or the noise, one of us is going to have to go. So I am looking everywhere, front door, back door, laundry room, under the sink, toilet tank, kitchen, you name it. I even decided to check out the closet. I go and get a chair, why I have no idea, but I decided to check the upper shelf on my master closet. I am all the way in the back of the closet, the light is on and I am standing on a chair with my hand searching the top shelf when I felt something. What is this? I slide it to me and see that it is … a paper mask of Mad magazines Alfred E. Newman that just about made me wet all of my clothes hanging there. I don't know why but to see this weird smiling tooth missing face where the eyes cut out kind of startled me for a second.
Forgetting what I was looking for, I took a deep breath in and out and then I heard the noise again. It was my damn nose whistling! Spring time and allergies are in full force. The creepy sound I was hearing was me, half asleep, exhaling through my congested nose which caused it to whistle.
Sometimes these 'heartwarming' stories are a bit too sappy for me
Sometimes these 'heartwarming' stories are a bit too sappy for me but this one is truly interesting...
In 1986, Mikele Mebembe was on holiday in Kenya after graduating from Northwestern University.On a hike through the bush, he came across a young bull elephant standing with one leg raised in the air. The elephant seemed distressed, so Mikele approached it very carefully.
He got down on one knee and inspected the elephant's foot and found a large piece of wood deeply embedded in it. As carefully and as gently as he could, Mikele worked the wood out with his hunting knife, after which the elephant gingerly put down its foot. The elephant turned to face the man, and with a rather curious look on its face, stared at him for several tense moments. Mikele stood frozen, thinking of nothing else but being trampled. Eventually the elephant trumpeted loudly, turned, and walked away. Mikele never forgot that elephant or the events of that day.
Twenty years later, Mikele was walking through the Chicago Zoo with his teenaged son. As they approached the elephant enclosure, one of the creatures turned and walked over to near where Mikele and his son Tapu were standing. The large bull elephant stared at Mikele, lifted its front foot off the ground, then put it down. The elephant did that several times then trumpeted loudly, all the while staring at the man.
Remembering the encounter in 1986, Mikele couldn't help wondering if this was the same elephant. Mikele summoned up his courage, climbed over the railing and made his way into the enclosure. He walked right up to the elephant and stared back in wonder. The elephant trumpeted again, wrapped its trunk around one of Mikele's legs and slammed him against the railing, killing him instantly.
Probably wasn't the same elephant.
In 1986, Mikele Mebembe was on holiday in Kenya after graduating from Northwestern University.On a hike through the bush, he came across a young bull elephant standing with one leg raised in the air. The elephant seemed distressed, so Mikele approached it very carefully.
He got down on one knee and inspected the elephant's foot and found a large piece of wood deeply embedded in it. As carefully and as gently as he could, Mikele worked the wood out with his hunting knife, after which the elephant gingerly put down its foot. The elephant turned to face the man, and with a rather curious look on its face, stared at him for several tense moments. Mikele stood frozen, thinking of nothing else but being trampled. Eventually the elephant trumpeted loudly, turned, and walked away. Mikele never forgot that elephant or the events of that day.
Twenty years later, Mikele was walking through the Chicago Zoo with his teenaged son. As they approached the elephant enclosure, one of the creatures turned and walked over to near where Mikele and his son Tapu were standing. The large bull elephant stared at Mikele, lifted its front foot off the ground, then put it down. The elephant did that several times then trumpeted loudly, all the while staring at the man.
Remembering the encounter in 1986, Mikele couldn't help wondering if this was the same elephant. Mikele summoned up his courage, climbed over the railing and made his way into the enclosure. He walked right up to the elephant and stared back in wonder. The elephant trumpeted again, wrapped its trunk around one of Mikele's legs and slammed him against the railing, killing him instantly.
Probably wasn't the same elephant.
Got a little tip for you fellas....
Guys, if you ever see a woman eating or buying this in a store, propose to her IMMEDIATELY!!
Do not think about it, do not wonder what your friends will think, do not pass go, get on one knee and ask that bitch to marry you right then and there and then tell her you will take her to pick out rings right away. Trust me, it is for the greater good.
Do not think about it, do not wonder what your friends will think, do not pass go, get on one knee and ask that bitch to marry you right then and there and then tell her you will take her to pick out rings right away. Trust me, it is for the greater good.
Genius Idea!
I listen to talk radio a lot while I am at work, sometimes for no other reason than to break some of the silence. Yesterday must have been a slow news day because every show was covering the same study/survey, which is that more people can name all seven ingredients of McDonald's Big Mac than can name all Ten Commandments. What I am wondering is who did this study? I am sure I could find out if I REALLY cared, but I don't. My feeling is that it is the people at McDonalds. Think about it, you release this "amazing" study and people talk about it all day. Then guess what, they go get a Big Mac. Oh hell yeah, it worked on me. I kept hear that stupid survey and hearing the stupid commercial in my head "two all beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, and onion on a sesame seed bun" over and over in my head all day long. And I was craving a Big Mac. Not only did it work on me, I was talking to a buddy on the phone during my ride home yesterday and our conversation went a little like this.
Me: Hey man, what are you doing?Him: Oh just getting some drive thru on the way home.Me: Oh really, what are you getting?Him: Mickey D's. Hey did you know that more people can name all seven ingredients of the Big Mac then can name the Ten Commandments?
Holy Crap! That is some powerful subliminal advertising! If they were smart the Domino's people would jump on this and rush some radio "studies" out. Something like people have named the "Noid" as their favorite food mascot or something like that. Think about it, people would think back to the Noid (you know you are doing it now) and then they would think "man it is Friday, been a long week, I don't want to cook dinner tonight, let's order a pizza" and BOOM domino's sales go through the roof. I bet it would work.
Me: Hey man, what are you doing?Him: Oh just getting some drive thru on the way home.Me: Oh really, what are you getting?Him: Mickey D's. Hey did you know that more people can name all seven ingredients of the Big Mac then can name the Ten Commandments?
Holy Crap! That is some powerful subliminal advertising! If they were smart the Domino's people would jump on this and rush some radio "studies" out. Something like people have named the "Noid" as their favorite food mascot or something like that. Think about it, people would think back to the Noid (you know you are doing it now) and then they would think "man it is Friday, been a long week, I don't want to cook dinner tonight, let's order a pizza" and BOOM domino's sales go through the roof. I bet it would work.
I think I am about to cry
My boss, who rules, just brought me a box that would hold a case of beer FULL of golf balls. I am guessing that there are between 100 and 200 golf balls in there. Most appear to be in good shape and damn near everyone of them are Titleist! They live on a really nice course in the area and have maybe three times more balls at home. It's like Christmas came early!
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Side effects may result in …
While watching some of the games today I see different commercials for various products but one thing really caught my eye, the side effects of the medicines. To me the side effects are worse than some of the things they cure.
For example there is a product called Flowmax. Right off you can tell what it does. But it is to help with “male urinary symptoms due to BPH”. And I am sure that is bad, but check out the side effects. This is straight from their website which the announcer says in the commercial, “Common side effects of FLOMAX are runny nose, dizziness and decrease in semen.” Uh, no we wont be taking this product at all. But if that wasn’t bad enough they go on to tell you “A sudden decrease in blood pressure may occur upon standing, rarely resulting in fainting.” Excuse me, but I could pass out if I take this med, shit, I would rather sit to pee or what ever you got to do if you have “male urinary symptoms due to BPH”. And if that wasn’t bad enough the go even on with “So when starting FLOMAX, avoid situations where injury could result.” Do you really have to be on anything for this to apply? If I am not mistaken, that is pretty much an every day practice for everyone. But if that wasn’t enough for you they also want you to know “If considering cataract surgery, tell your eye surgeon you have taken FLOMAX capsules.” So I can either pee or go blind? What isle are the Depends on?
Then there is Flonase, sorry to get stuck on the “Flo” meds, but this is a nasal decongestant. You spray this product up your nose to open it up for breathing. Let’s take a look at their side effects shall we. From their site “If side effects occur, they are generally mild and may include headache, nosebleed, or sore throat.” Nosebleed? What is in this shit and why would I put to spray it in my head? Good lord.
I just heard another one, it is for a product called Avodart. Avodart is used to treat enlarging prostate. If you are brave enough to take it that is. The side effects say “Women and children should not take AVODART. Women who are or could become pregnant should not handle AVODART due to the potential risk of a specific birth defect.” Wait, they can’t even TOUCH it because it could cause birth defects. Dayum, that is some powerful shit. They continue on with “Do not donate blood until at least 6 months after stopping AVODART. Tell your doctor if you have liver disease. AVODART may not be right for you.” Might not be right for you, is that a nice way to say you might wake up dead? “Possible side effects, including sexual side effects” stop right there, no way in hell would I take this medicine with that kind of risk. I am surprised they sell any at all. But they continue with “and swelling or tenderness of the breast, occur infrequently.”
Now let’s check out Nexium. The purple pill people. Of course I thought this was an erectile dysfunction medicine but it’s actually for heartburn and acid reflux. They list their side effects as “Side effects with NEXIUM include headache, diarrhea, and abdominal pain. Symptom relief does not rule out other serious stomach conditions.” Hmm, let me weight this right, diarrhea or heartburn, hmm, throat burns or my ass burns, tough call. Don’t forget about the possibility of “abdominal pain”!
But I think the one that scares me the most has got to be Topamax. This is a headache medicine, migraines specifically. Side effects for this bad boy list “Serious risks associated with TOPAMAX include lowered bicarbonate levels in the blood resulting in an increase in the acidity of the blood (metabolic acidosis). Symptoms could include hyperventilation (rapid, deep breathing), tiredness, loss of appetite, irregular heartbeat or changes in the level of alertness.” Does that sound like a stroke to anyone else? And if that wasn’t bad enough let’s continue on with “Chronic, untreated metabolic acidosis may increase the risk for kidney stones or bone disease.” Maybe I have never had a migraine, but how bad must a headache be to risk kidney stones or bone disease? Shit, just give me a bottle of Jack and I will be passed out shortly and the headache wont matter and I don’t have to piss a rock. But wait, there’s more! They follow that up with “Other serious risks include decreased sweating, increased body temperature, kidney stones, sleepiness, dizziness, confusion, difficulty concentrating, and increased eye pressure (glaucoma).” Umm, isn’t sweating how your body is designed to naturally cool you off? So you can’t sweat AND your body temperature could go up. Would you just burst like Tupperware in the microwave? But they are looking out for you, they tell you to “Call your doctor immediately if you have any decrease in vision or eye pain. These problems can lead to blindness if not treated right away.” So let’s think about this, if you can’t see, go thumbing through the yellow pages to look up your doctors number, oh and good luck dialing that phone! But if those aren’t enough, they still continue with “More common side effects are tingling in arms and legs, loss of appetite, tiredness, nausea, diarrhea, taste change and weight loss.” Why does everything have to give you diarrhea? I swear all of these medicines must be manufactured by the Depends people. Think they have a guy on the inside who pours castor oil into all of the products?
For example there is a product called Flowmax. Right off you can tell what it does. But it is to help with “male urinary symptoms due to BPH”. And I am sure that is bad, but check out the side effects. This is straight from their website which the announcer says in the commercial, “Common side effects of FLOMAX are runny nose, dizziness and decrease in semen.” Uh, no we wont be taking this product at all. But if that wasn’t bad enough they go on to tell you “A sudden decrease in blood pressure may occur upon standing, rarely resulting in fainting.” Excuse me, but I could pass out if I take this med, shit, I would rather sit to pee or what ever you got to do if you have “male urinary symptoms due to BPH”. And if that wasn’t bad enough the go even on with “So when starting FLOMAX, avoid situations where injury could result.” Do you really have to be on anything for this to apply? If I am not mistaken, that is pretty much an every day practice for everyone. But if that wasn’t enough for you they also want you to know “If considering cataract surgery, tell your eye surgeon you have taken FLOMAX capsules.” So I can either pee or go blind? What isle are the Depends on?
Then there is Flonase, sorry to get stuck on the “Flo” meds, but this is a nasal decongestant. You spray this product up your nose to open it up for breathing. Let’s take a look at their side effects shall we. From their site “If side effects occur, they are generally mild and may include headache, nosebleed, or sore throat.” Nosebleed? What is in this shit and why would I put to spray it in my head? Good lord.
I just heard another one, it is for a product called Avodart. Avodart is used to treat enlarging prostate. If you are brave enough to take it that is. The side effects say “Women and children should not take AVODART. Women who are or could become pregnant should not handle AVODART due to the potential risk of a specific birth defect.” Wait, they can’t even TOUCH it because it could cause birth defects. Dayum, that is some powerful shit. They continue on with “Do not donate blood until at least 6 months after stopping AVODART. Tell your doctor if you have liver disease. AVODART may not be right for you.” Might not be right for you, is that a nice way to say you might wake up dead? “Possible side effects, including sexual side effects” stop right there, no way in hell would I take this medicine with that kind of risk. I am surprised they sell any at all. But they continue with “and swelling or tenderness of the breast, occur infrequently.”
Now let’s check out Nexium. The purple pill people. Of course I thought this was an erectile dysfunction medicine but it’s actually for heartburn and acid reflux. They list their side effects as “Side effects with NEXIUM include headache, diarrhea, and abdominal pain. Symptom relief does not rule out other serious stomach conditions.” Hmm, let me weight this right, diarrhea or heartburn, hmm, throat burns or my ass burns, tough call. Don’t forget about the possibility of “abdominal pain”!
But I think the one that scares me the most has got to be Topamax. This is a headache medicine, migraines specifically. Side effects for this bad boy list “Serious risks associated with TOPAMAX include lowered bicarbonate levels in the blood resulting in an increase in the acidity of the blood (metabolic acidosis). Symptoms could include hyperventilation (rapid, deep breathing), tiredness, loss of appetite, irregular heartbeat or changes in the level of alertness.” Does that sound like a stroke to anyone else? And if that wasn’t bad enough let’s continue on with “Chronic, untreated metabolic acidosis may increase the risk for kidney stones or bone disease.” Maybe I have never had a migraine, but how bad must a headache be to risk kidney stones or bone disease? Shit, just give me a bottle of Jack and I will be passed out shortly and the headache wont matter and I don’t have to piss a rock. But wait, there’s more! They follow that up with “Other serious risks include decreased sweating, increased body temperature, kidney stones, sleepiness, dizziness, confusion, difficulty concentrating, and increased eye pressure (glaucoma).” Umm, isn’t sweating how your body is designed to naturally cool you off? So you can’t sweat AND your body temperature could go up. Would you just burst like Tupperware in the microwave? But they are looking out for you, they tell you to “Call your doctor immediately if you have any decrease in vision or eye pain. These problems can lead to blindness if not treated right away.” So let’s think about this, if you can’t see, go thumbing through the yellow pages to look up your doctors number, oh and good luck dialing that phone! But if those aren’t enough, they still continue with “More common side effects are tingling in arms and legs, loss of appetite, tiredness, nausea, diarrhea, taste change and weight loss.” Why does everything have to give you diarrhea? I swear all of these medicines must be manufactured by the Depends people. Think they have a guy on the inside who pours castor oil into all of the products?
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Vegas Baby!
Our little vacation group decided that we wanted to go to Vegas a few years back for our summer vacation. The week of the Fourth of July to be exact. So we go and book our rooms and rental car, buy plane tickets and all of that good stuff. When the trip finally got there we all somehow ended up in Dallas at the same time so we all went to the airport together and were on the same flight out. We go through the whole deal at the airport, check our bags and wait for our flight. So far so good. Damnit, I bet I just did it again. So the plane gets there and there is hardly anyone getting off so we get to board rather quickly. Everyone gets on and gets seated. The captain makes the usual announcements and the flight crew does their thing. At this point I go to turn on my vent to get a little air moving because it was getting a bit stuffy in the plane. Where is the vent? Hmm, not on the ceiling, not in my pocket, wonder where it is. Oh that’s right this ancient plane didn’t have vents. Not like they didn’t work, there were none. So it is July in Dallas, going to Nevada with no vent. I didn’t know we booked a flight on Stinky Airlines. Fortunately, since it was a morning flight it didn’t get too bad. But I am guessing that plane must get ripe about 4 in the afternoon.
So we land in Vegas, get our baggage and make our way to the car rental place. I notice about two or three people ahead of us is a lady with three single digit aged children. When it is her turn at the desk she gives them all of her information and after a reasonable amount of time she is done and they tell her that her car is being pulled up front for her. Right about the time we get to the desk the lady comes back in and politely ask if she can speak to the rental agent for a second. Since she was nice about it and had three young children with her, I had no problem letting her go ahead of me. She politely tells the desk agent that she is going to need another car and that there is something wrong with the back seat of the one she got. The desk agent got an attitude with her and says “all of these people want their cars too” and motions to the line with her hand. This would be when the lady spoke up and said “You don’t understand, there is a jagged piece of metal sticking through the seat and into my sons back. I suggest you get me a different car now or I can call your corporate office and let them know about you and your service, what do you think about that?!” I don’t even know that woman but she made a tear come to my eye, I am so proud of her. She gets her car and shortly afterwards we get our car and are on our way.
It is about ten in the morning on a Sunday morning and we are on the strip making our way to the hotels when this woman who is way past hammered falls INTO traffic in front of us. I knew there was a lot of magic in Vegas but I am so glad I didn’t see the trick where this woman’s head gets turned into a pancake.
We drop off our friends and make our way to our hotel where a bellhop grabs our bags out of the trunk and a valet parks the car. Man I love Vegas. We get to the desk to check in when the girl behind the counter lets us know that our room is not ready yet. I was a little pissed but it was not a big deal. I asked her how long did she think it would be and she told me that they were cleaning it now and it might be twenty to thirty minutes. She also mentions that we could go check out the shops or the casinos. I ask her what are we supposed to do with our bags and she tells us that we can keep them in their secure room until our room is ready. Well off to the casino we go! About forty-five minutes later we come back to the desk and find out that the room isn’t ready yet. Back to shopping and the casino we go. After about thirty more minutes we go back to the desk and find out that the damn room still isn’t ready. Ok, this is BS. We go exploring some more and get back to the desk about a half hour later and the room still isn’t ready. This is when I asked them how long does it take to clean a room. This is when they realized that I had been there about two hours trying to check in. Well our room wasn’t ready but one of the upgraded suites was. Free upgrade, nice.
We get into our room and I call my buddy to see if they wanted to hit the strip. When we met up with them my buddies wife asked how our room was and we told them our little story and then we asked about theirs. My buddies wife shoots him a look so I know this is going to be good. She tells us that when they got into their room that it smelled like body order. So she tells my friend to go tell the front desk and see what they can do about it. He goes to the front desk and tells them that their room stinks and then heads to the casino for a drink. While he is gone the wife decides to take a bath. During her nice relaxing bath she hears the door to the room open and close. After a couple of seconds she calls out her husbands name, a few seconds later she hears the door open and close again. Again she calls out her husbands name and gets no response. She tells us that then she gets out of the bath, puts on a robe and heads out into the room to find that there was no one there. But she did notice that the room now smelled like someone walked around in the room spraying a bottle of Dakar cologne. Shortly after this my buddy gets back to his hotel room. His wife ask him if he came in and left again, to which he answers no then she ask him what the desk clerk said and he said “nothing”. He told her that the desk clerk said that they would send someone up to check it out. Of course she is pissed because he didn’t say anything to her about it and he don’t get why she is pissed.
The next day we all branch off into our own little groups and do our own thing during the day and meet up for a nice diner at night. Since we were there in July it was hot, dry hot or not, it was freaking hot. I believe it was 115 that day. There was even a news report where people were passing out while waiting in line to get into the Hoover Dam. So as we are going from hotel to hotel we develop quite a thirst. J Since I was doing the driving I had no alcohol and since my then girlfriend (now wife) was on vacation and I was driving she was getting her drink on. Long story, short version, in the course of the afternoon she has four forty-eight ounce mixed drinks. We get to diner and she is still conscious, woohoo! After we finish our meal the wives decide to go back to their rooms but the fellas wanted to ramble. So we take off and the girls go back to their rooms. We are just going from casino to casino. While we are in one casino my buddy is looking around like he is looking for someone, well he was. A waitress. He spots one and moves over to a slot machine that appears to be in her path. He sits down just about the time she is near and ask if he wants anything to drink. Of course he replies with “Yes” and give her is order. No sooner had she walked away that he stands up. A couple of minutes later he sits back down and the waitress brings him his drink. He takes a sip and says “thirty-five cents”. To which I reply with “what?” again he says “thirty-five cents, that’s how much this drink cost me”. Dude you really should be ashamed.
Several hours later, around four in the morning, we all come strolling back to our rooms where I find my wife, asleep in bed, well half of her was. She tried to get a bath when the booze kicked in and she could no longer stand. So she crawls to the bed and gets most of her torso onto the bed.
The next day comes and we are all hanging out doing our own thing. Later that night we are going into downtown Vegas to the Golden Nugget to see the Amazing Jonathan. That show was awesome! Totally worth it, if you get a chance go see him.
Day four and it is the same routine, we go and check out different things in the city, went to the dessert, gamble, shop and so on. That night we were going to eat at Emeril’s NOLA Steakhouse. Fantastic meal and we were served by the captain of the restaurant. That really was a nice treat. After that meal we go over to see Siegfried and Roy. I was a bit let down because the show started out really gay. Not that kind of gay, cheesy gay. Like one of their tricks they put a tiger in a cage, cover the cage with a cloth and from the other end of the stage they point at the cage. When the cloth drops the tiger is gone. How much did I pay for this bullshit? Anyway, after a while the show gets better, but the funny thing was when you order a drink from the waitress, they bring you two at a time. I am sure this is to save time and to keep from disturbing everyone going up and down the isles and so on. During the show, one of my buddies and his wife are sitting across the table from us. When the house lights come up after the show I see a Corona, a full Corona with the lime still in the top of the bottle at that. I jokingly motion to my buddy and say “free beer”. He does this yawn/stretch move and snatches the beer off of the table. I give him credit for the move when he begins to drink it. I don’t know what came over me but I busted out with “Dude! That guy could have been rubbing his pecker on that bottle!” Without missing a beat he says “Pecker taste gooooood”. Yeah, it took him a while to live that down.
Later that night, the better half and I decided to catch a show at like three o’clock in the morning, simply because you can do that in Vegas. On a recommendation from my now Mother-In-Law we went to see a synchronized swimming show called “Splash”. So we go to check it out. Time to set the scene for you, there is my girlfriend and myself and about 200 asian men in overcoats, in Vegas, in July. No other women there, hmmm, should this strike me as odd? NAH! So we get seated in what appears to have been the orchestra pit at one time. You know like right up front where the band would sit kind of thing. WTF? How am I going to be able to see a swimming show from this close up? Since we are in the pit there is this walk-way around us. For us to get to our seats they have to open this drawbridge thing on the walkway. Well I hope I don’t have to pee or anything since I am locked in now. So after a few minutes of sitting there confused, they start the show. It starts like a variety show with jugglers, a contortionist, a comic, and so on. Even had ice skaters. Where is the pool? I don’t get it, are they going to bring out a tank or something? Then comes the announcer, “Ladies (ladies? like plural?) and gentlemen , Splash After Dark proudly presents the Splash After Dark dancers”. Ahhh, they call them dancers, ok. Surely we are about to see the swimming. I don’t know why but for some reason I am hell-bent on seeing this show. Then I notice right behind the curtain is a row of showgirls with the big headdresses on. How are they going to swim in those? Then I notice they are topless. My mother-in-law rocks! LOL I turned to my girlfriend and say “I think we are at the wrong show” and motion to the girls. Right about this time the first girl in line reaches up and give her nipples are real nice hard pinch. Well, at least we know we are getting a top quality show. At this point I can’t WAIT to tell my mother in law about the show that she recommended. After boobapoloosa as we were leaving the hotel I asked the lady at the box office about the swimming show and she tells me that after nine o’clock Splash is a completely different show. Ya think!?
During the day on day six we do our thing. That night we are off to see Wayne Newton. Oh yeah, old school Vegas baby! Too bad Tom Jones wasn’t in town or we would have had the trifecta. The show was good but he really drove home that he was native American. He just happened to have mentioned it about 18,374,296 times. Wayne, we got it buddy, ok, we got it. But the best part of the whole show was right before the show was over my buddy spills a full beer … right in his lap. I don’t know what was funnier, that he spilled it and was pissed because it was a full beer or because it look like he wet his pants. The greatest part is that there was no hiding it. So as we were leaving the theater, and being the smart ass that I am, I announce “Wow, you really enjoyed the show huh!” Which of course draws attention to him. Ahh, sweet payback for just a small portion of stuff he has done to me.
So we all go back to their hotel, let them change close and then to our hotel so that we could change clothes and hit our casino for a bit. Me and my boy get tired of waiting and just tell the girls that we will meet them downstairs in the casino and head to the elevators. As we are getting off of the elevator and making our way to the casino we see this woman walking towards the elevators. Right after we pass her my buddy says “dude, hooker”. No kidding monkey brains. What was your first clue? Was it the perfume that you could smell before we could see her, or was it crystal clear F me pumps, or quite possibly was it the wink she gave us, or maybe the see thru mini dress? Any of that stuff tip you off? Ray Charles could see that she was a hooker.
Some times I worry about that boy.
So we land in Vegas, get our baggage and make our way to the car rental place. I notice about two or three people ahead of us is a lady with three single digit aged children. When it is her turn at the desk she gives them all of her information and after a reasonable amount of time she is done and they tell her that her car is being pulled up front for her. Right about the time we get to the desk the lady comes back in and politely ask if she can speak to the rental agent for a second. Since she was nice about it and had three young children with her, I had no problem letting her go ahead of me. She politely tells the desk agent that she is going to need another car and that there is something wrong with the back seat of the one she got. The desk agent got an attitude with her and says “all of these people want their cars too” and motions to the line with her hand. This would be when the lady spoke up and said “You don’t understand, there is a jagged piece of metal sticking through the seat and into my sons back. I suggest you get me a different car now or I can call your corporate office and let them know about you and your service, what do you think about that?!” I don’t even know that woman but she made a tear come to my eye, I am so proud of her. She gets her car and shortly afterwards we get our car and are on our way.
It is about ten in the morning on a Sunday morning and we are on the strip making our way to the hotels when this woman who is way past hammered falls INTO traffic in front of us. I knew there was a lot of magic in Vegas but I am so glad I didn’t see the trick where this woman’s head gets turned into a pancake.
We drop off our friends and make our way to our hotel where a bellhop grabs our bags out of the trunk and a valet parks the car. Man I love Vegas. We get to the desk to check in when the girl behind the counter lets us know that our room is not ready yet. I was a little pissed but it was not a big deal. I asked her how long did she think it would be and she told me that they were cleaning it now and it might be twenty to thirty minutes. She also mentions that we could go check out the shops or the casinos. I ask her what are we supposed to do with our bags and she tells us that we can keep them in their secure room until our room is ready. Well off to the casino we go! About forty-five minutes later we come back to the desk and find out that the room isn’t ready yet. Back to shopping and the casino we go. After about thirty more minutes we go back to the desk and find out that the damn room still isn’t ready. Ok, this is BS. We go exploring some more and get back to the desk about a half hour later and the room still isn’t ready. This is when I asked them how long does it take to clean a room. This is when they realized that I had been there about two hours trying to check in. Well our room wasn’t ready but one of the upgraded suites was. Free upgrade, nice.
We get into our room and I call my buddy to see if they wanted to hit the strip. When we met up with them my buddies wife asked how our room was and we told them our little story and then we asked about theirs. My buddies wife shoots him a look so I know this is going to be good. She tells us that when they got into their room that it smelled like body order. So she tells my friend to go tell the front desk and see what they can do about it. He goes to the front desk and tells them that their room stinks and then heads to the casino for a drink. While he is gone the wife decides to take a bath. During her nice relaxing bath she hears the door to the room open and close. After a couple of seconds she calls out her husbands name, a few seconds later she hears the door open and close again. Again she calls out her husbands name and gets no response. She tells us that then she gets out of the bath, puts on a robe and heads out into the room to find that there was no one there. But she did notice that the room now smelled like someone walked around in the room spraying a bottle of Dakar cologne. Shortly after this my buddy gets back to his hotel room. His wife ask him if he came in and left again, to which he answers no then she ask him what the desk clerk said and he said “nothing”. He told her that the desk clerk said that they would send someone up to check it out. Of course she is pissed because he didn’t say anything to her about it and he don’t get why she is pissed.
The next day we all branch off into our own little groups and do our own thing during the day and meet up for a nice diner at night. Since we were there in July it was hot, dry hot or not, it was freaking hot. I believe it was 115 that day. There was even a news report where people were passing out while waiting in line to get into the Hoover Dam. So as we are going from hotel to hotel we develop quite a thirst. J Since I was doing the driving I had no alcohol and since my then girlfriend (now wife) was on vacation and I was driving she was getting her drink on. Long story, short version, in the course of the afternoon she has four forty-eight ounce mixed drinks. We get to diner and she is still conscious, woohoo! After we finish our meal the wives decide to go back to their rooms but the fellas wanted to ramble. So we take off and the girls go back to their rooms. We are just going from casino to casino. While we are in one casino my buddy is looking around like he is looking for someone, well he was. A waitress. He spots one and moves over to a slot machine that appears to be in her path. He sits down just about the time she is near and ask if he wants anything to drink. Of course he replies with “Yes” and give her is order. No sooner had she walked away that he stands up. A couple of minutes later he sits back down and the waitress brings him his drink. He takes a sip and says “thirty-five cents”. To which I reply with “what?” again he says “thirty-five cents, that’s how much this drink cost me”. Dude you really should be ashamed.
Several hours later, around four in the morning, we all come strolling back to our rooms where I find my wife, asleep in bed, well half of her was. She tried to get a bath when the booze kicked in and she could no longer stand. So she crawls to the bed and gets most of her torso onto the bed.
The next day comes and we are all hanging out doing our own thing. Later that night we are going into downtown Vegas to the Golden Nugget to see the Amazing Jonathan. That show was awesome! Totally worth it, if you get a chance go see him.
Day four and it is the same routine, we go and check out different things in the city, went to the dessert, gamble, shop and so on. That night we were going to eat at Emeril’s NOLA Steakhouse. Fantastic meal and we were served by the captain of the restaurant. That really was a nice treat. After that meal we go over to see Siegfried and Roy. I was a bit let down because the show started out really gay. Not that kind of gay, cheesy gay. Like one of their tricks they put a tiger in a cage, cover the cage with a cloth and from the other end of the stage they point at the cage. When the cloth drops the tiger is gone. How much did I pay for this bullshit? Anyway, after a while the show gets better, but the funny thing was when you order a drink from the waitress, they bring you two at a time. I am sure this is to save time and to keep from disturbing everyone going up and down the isles and so on. During the show, one of my buddies and his wife are sitting across the table from us. When the house lights come up after the show I see a Corona, a full Corona with the lime still in the top of the bottle at that. I jokingly motion to my buddy and say “free beer”. He does this yawn/stretch move and snatches the beer off of the table. I give him credit for the move when he begins to drink it. I don’t know what came over me but I busted out with “Dude! That guy could have been rubbing his pecker on that bottle!” Without missing a beat he says “Pecker taste gooooood”. Yeah, it took him a while to live that down.
Later that night, the better half and I decided to catch a show at like three o’clock in the morning, simply because you can do that in Vegas. On a recommendation from my now Mother-In-Law we went to see a synchronized swimming show called “Splash”. So we go to check it out. Time to set the scene for you, there is my girlfriend and myself and about 200 asian men in overcoats, in Vegas, in July. No other women there, hmmm, should this strike me as odd? NAH! So we get seated in what appears to have been the orchestra pit at one time. You know like right up front where the band would sit kind of thing. WTF? How am I going to be able to see a swimming show from this close up? Since we are in the pit there is this walk-way around us. For us to get to our seats they have to open this drawbridge thing on the walkway. Well I hope I don’t have to pee or anything since I am locked in now. So after a few minutes of sitting there confused, they start the show. It starts like a variety show with jugglers, a contortionist, a comic, and so on. Even had ice skaters. Where is the pool? I don’t get it, are they going to bring out a tank or something? Then comes the announcer, “Ladies (ladies? like plural?) and gentlemen , Splash After Dark proudly presents the Splash After Dark dancers”. Ahhh, they call them dancers, ok. Surely we are about to see the swimming. I don’t know why but for some reason I am hell-bent on seeing this show. Then I notice right behind the curtain is a row of showgirls with the big headdresses on. How are they going to swim in those? Then I notice they are topless. My mother-in-law rocks! LOL I turned to my girlfriend and say “I think we are at the wrong show” and motion to the girls. Right about this time the first girl in line reaches up and give her nipples are real nice hard pinch. Well, at least we know we are getting a top quality show. At this point I can’t WAIT to tell my mother in law about the show that she recommended. After boobapoloosa as we were leaving the hotel I asked the lady at the box office about the swimming show and she tells me that after nine o’clock Splash is a completely different show. Ya think!?
During the day on day six we do our thing. That night we are off to see Wayne Newton. Oh yeah, old school Vegas baby! Too bad Tom Jones wasn’t in town or we would have had the trifecta. The show was good but he really drove home that he was native American. He just happened to have mentioned it about 18,374,296 times. Wayne, we got it buddy, ok, we got it. But the best part of the whole show was right before the show was over my buddy spills a full beer … right in his lap. I don’t know what was funnier, that he spilled it and was pissed because it was a full beer or because it look like he wet his pants. The greatest part is that there was no hiding it. So as we were leaving the theater, and being the smart ass that I am, I announce “Wow, you really enjoyed the show huh!” Which of course draws attention to him. Ahh, sweet payback for just a small portion of stuff he has done to me.
So we all go back to their hotel, let them change close and then to our hotel so that we could change clothes and hit our casino for a bit. Me and my boy get tired of waiting and just tell the girls that we will meet them downstairs in the casino and head to the elevators. As we are getting off of the elevator and making our way to the casino we see this woman walking towards the elevators. Right after we pass her my buddy says “dude, hooker”. No kidding monkey brains. What was your first clue? Was it the perfume that you could smell before we could see her, or was it crystal clear F me pumps, or quite possibly was it the wink she gave us, or maybe the see thru mini dress? Any of that stuff tip you off? Ray Charles could see that she was a hooker.
Some times I worry about that boy.
I have to apologize in advance for this one
Today on the way back from lunch we got behind a car with a vanity plate. Let me start off by saying that I got nothing against vanity plates. I think some of them are kind of funny. But this one was a little different than anything I have seen before. We get behind this bright red Mazda RX-8 that not only had a personalized plate that read "BBW LVR" but he also had a plate ring that read "My wife is a hot big girl". WTF?
Is that supposed to be a compliment to his wife? "Honey, I love your fat ass!" And isn't hot big girl an oxymoron?
I got no problem with a little extra meat on the bone, but from what I understand BBWs are BIG girls, like real big. How is that "hot"?
And to each his own and beauty is in the eye of the beholder and all of that stuff, but is that something you really want to promote? Isn't that a fetish? I don't see other people promoting their fetishes. Never seen a plate or plate ring that promoted S&M, bondage, ATM, people who like to wear diapers (what ever the hell they are called), or Trannys or anything like that.
And how does that work? Is it the bigger they are the more that he is turned on?
And the kicker was this guy, from what I could see, looked like a bean pole. So you know they had look like the number 10 when they stood by each other. But he was driving a little coupe car that you know damn well his wife couldn't get into.
I wonder how all of this goes down. Most guys would go to a club to meet girls, does he hang out at buffets?
You know that his buddies have got to give him hell about it too. You know he is just sitting there in his cube when one of his buddies come to his desk and say "Dude, you got to check out this heifer in the lobby! She's got to be at least 600 pounds! Right up your alley."
Don't get me wrong, I am not making fun of overweight people hell, I am one. Just don't get the fascination.
Girls, here is a question for you, are any of you out there turned on by fat guys? Is it turned on or settled for, that might be a better question.
I am ALMOST curious as to what his wife looks like. I want to see what this guy thinks is "hot".
I have a friend of mine who thinks that Sandra Bernhard is sexy. I think he is out of his freaking mind.
I guess everything is bigger in Texas, even hot women.
Is that supposed to be a compliment to his wife? "Honey, I love your fat ass!" And isn't hot big girl an oxymoron?
I got no problem with a little extra meat on the bone, but from what I understand BBWs are BIG girls, like real big. How is that "hot"?
And to each his own and beauty is in the eye of the beholder and all of that stuff, but is that something you really want to promote? Isn't that a fetish? I don't see other people promoting their fetishes. Never seen a plate or plate ring that promoted S&M, bondage, ATM, people who like to wear diapers (what ever the hell they are called), or Trannys or anything like that.
And how does that work? Is it the bigger they are the more that he is turned on?
And the kicker was this guy, from what I could see, looked like a bean pole. So you know they had look like the number 10 when they stood by each other. But he was driving a little coupe car that you know damn well his wife couldn't get into.
I wonder how all of this goes down. Most guys would go to a club to meet girls, does he hang out at buffets?
You know that his buddies have got to give him hell about it too. You know he is just sitting there in his cube when one of his buddies come to his desk and say "Dude, you got to check out this heifer in the lobby! She's got to be at least 600 pounds! Right up your alley."
Don't get me wrong, I am not making fun of overweight people hell, I am one. Just don't get the fascination.
Girls, here is a question for you, are any of you out there turned on by fat guys? Is it turned on or settled for, that might be a better question.
I am ALMOST curious as to what his wife looks like. I want to see what this guy thinks is "hot".
I have a friend of mine who thinks that Sandra Bernhard is sexy. I think he is out of his freaking mind.
I guess everything is bigger in Texas, even hot women.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Things that piss me off
This is not one of the myspace surveys, this are actual things that I have been thinking about that piss me off, hence the title. I am sure this will be an ever growing list.
- People who bitch about smoking. Okay so people bitching about smoking don’t really piss me off. I understand that it is unhealthy and that it smells. What pisses me off is this radio show that I was listening to on the way to work this morning. The host of the show was saying how he should be able to punch smokers in the head because they are “endangering” his life. Okay, I would have given him that IF he hadn’t earlier been talking about his new truck and laughing about the poor gas mileage it gets. I may not be sitting next to your tail pipe but I am breathing the air that you are polluting, you know endangering my life. The line to punch you in the head is going to be a long one and I am going to be right up front.
- Bad drivers. Not just bad drivers, well yeah all bad drivers, but for this I am talking specifically about the guy who has to get in the lane that I am in RIGHT NOW! Even though there are no cars behind me, he is coming into my lane and has to get over in front of me come hell or high water.
- Courtesy flush guy. I am appreciative that you are trying to cover your noxious emissions, but when you flush seventy-five times in the amount of time that it takes me to pee it becomes annoying. I want to kick the stall door in and whip your ass.
- While we are on the bathroom stuff, I drum my feet, it is like a habit. It pisses me off that now I have to be conscious of doing it because if I do it while I am in the can and someone sees it, I could be brought up on charges.
- People who are offended by proxy. How can you be offended by something that you didn’t hear or see or that was not said or happened to you? How can you be offended twice removed from the situation? I know this may come off as a shock to the easily offended, but people lie and they might lie to you. So if you didn’t see it or hear it you can’t be offended by it. So eat me. You are free to feel offended, happy now?
- People who bitch about smoking. Okay so people bitching about smoking don’t really piss me off. I understand that it is unhealthy and that it smells. What pisses me off is this radio show that I was listening to on the way to work this morning. The host of the show was saying how he should be able to punch smokers in the head because they are “endangering” his life. Okay, I would have given him that IF he hadn’t earlier been talking about his new truck and laughing about the poor gas mileage it gets. I may not be sitting next to your tail pipe but I am breathing the air that you are polluting, you know endangering my life. The line to punch you in the head is going to be a long one and I am going to be right up front.
- Bad drivers. Not just bad drivers, well yeah all bad drivers, but for this I am talking specifically about the guy who has to get in the lane that I am in RIGHT NOW! Even though there are no cars behind me, he is coming into my lane and has to get over in front of me come hell or high water.
- Courtesy flush guy. I am appreciative that you are trying to cover your noxious emissions, but when you flush seventy-five times in the amount of time that it takes me to pee it becomes annoying. I want to kick the stall door in and whip your ass.
- While we are on the bathroom stuff, I drum my feet, it is like a habit. It pisses me off that now I have to be conscious of doing it because if I do it while I am in the can and someone sees it, I could be brought up on charges.
- People who are offended by proxy. How can you be offended by something that you didn’t hear or see or that was not said or happened to you? How can you be offended twice removed from the situation? I know this may come off as a shock to the easily offended, but people lie and they might lie to you. So if you didn’t see it or hear it you can’t be offended by it. So eat me. You are free to feel offended, happy now?
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Looking back, we will call this chapter 12
Bachelor Party
Ahh yes, several years back my buddy, who I got in all of my trouble with, got married. As customary we through him a bachelor party. I was already living in Texas at the time and although I was to be there a few days early because I was in the wedding, I would not have missed this party anyway.
Some of the details of the party are a bit sketchy, but that’s a sign of a good party right?
A couple of days before the party most of the bridal party rolled into town. On like Tuesday or Wednesday there was some sort of wrestling event in a town a couple of hours away and the groom wanted to go so we packed the cooler and headed out on a road trip. As pretty much SOP for this particular week, we got there with a buzz and begin to taunt the wrestlers, who could have snapped us in half without even breaking a sweat. Side note: we were on the front row and the smell of Bengay, Icy Hot and Tiger Balm was running rampant.
After we have our testosterone fix we head back to my buddy’s place. Where we pretty much walked in, found a place to fall and crashed there. This is until the next morning when the girls from the bridal party woke us.
Get this, they didn’t call to wake us, no no no, they drove over because they knew that a phone call wasn’t going to cut it. Not only did they drive over, they stopped and got us breakfast on the way. How rockin are these chicks? Oh and get this, they didn’t wake us because we had wedding stuff to do, nope they woke us because they knew we had a tee time and had been drinking the night before. Did I mention that my buddy married a damn good woman? It was like I won some kind of contest or something, strange chicks wakes us up, brings us food just so we wont miss our tee time, they are not bitching about anything, it doesn’t cost me anything AND I don’t have to do anything in return. Damn that was a good day.
So I guess that was Thursday. We played golf and drank too much, typical stuff.
The next day is the day of the bachelor party. We pretty much laid low all day. Then, came time for the party so we rolled over to my one of my buddy’s co-workers place, start drinking and wait for the “entertainment” to get there. No details to see here, guy code and all.
After the entertainment leaves we all sat around and fisted each other. Nah, just kidding!
We went to a hotel where we had rooms reserved, you know the whole can’t see each other before the ceremony thing. So there we are, groom, groomsmen, and some ushers hanging out in the grooms room doing typical stuff like asking him if he is nervous yet and what not. About this time the topic of sleeping arrangements came up, oh yeah I guess we better figure that out real quick. So we get everything figured out and decide that we better turn in soon because of the big day the next day when these two scrotum sacks decided that they still wanted to party. We all tell them that is not a good idea plus neither of them had a car there so if they did want to go somewhere they would have to walk and we were no where near town. They decide to hit the bars anyway … walking. This was good for me because they were supposed to be rooming with me. Happy trails mofos!
So they leave and the rest of us are shooting the breeze for a bit when one of the other groomsmen looks at the little brother of the groom, who happens to be the best man, and nonchalantly says “You know I am going to fuck you in the ass tonight, right?” The rest of us were cracking up, but for some reason the little brother didn’t find it so funny (wonder why) and says “That aint cool man, that aint cool.” Then he slides the bed over against the wall and slept there with his ass wedged into the corner all night.
Ahh yes, several years back my buddy, who I got in all of my trouble with, got married. As customary we through him a bachelor party. I was already living in Texas at the time and although I was to be there a few days early because I was in the wedding, I would not have missed this party anyway.
Some of the details of the party are a bit sketchy, but that’s a sign of a good party right?
A couple of days before the party most of the bridal party rolled into town. On like Tuesday or Wednesday there was some sort of wrestling event in a town a couple of hours away and the groom wanted to go so we packed the cooler and headed out on a road trip. As pretty much SOP for this particular week, we got there with a buzz and begin to taunt the wrestlers, who could have snapped us in half without even breaking a sweat. Side note: we were on the front row and the smell of Bengay, Icy Hot and Tiger Balm was running rampant.
After we have our testosterone fix we head back to my buddy’s place. Where we pretty much walked in, found a place to fall and crashed there. This is until the next morning when the girls from the bridal party woke us.
Get this, they didn’t call to wake us, no no no, they drove over because they knew that a phone call wasn’t going to cut it. Not only did they drive over, they stopped and got us breakfast on the way. How rockin are these chicks? Oh and get this, they didn’t wake us because we had wedding stuff to do, nope they woke us because they knew we had a tee time and had been drinking the night before. Did I mention that my buddy married a damn good woman? It was like I won some kind of contest or something, strange chicks wakes us up, brings us food just so we wont miss our tee time, they are not bitching about anything, it doesn’t cost me anything AND I don’t have to do anything in return. Damn that was a good day.
So I guess that was Thursday. We played golf and drank too much, typical stuff.
The next day is the day of the bachelor party. We pretty much laid low all day. Then, came time for the party so we rolled over to my one of my buddy’s co-workers place, start drinking and wait for the “entertainment” to get there. No details to see here, guy code and all.
After the entertainment leaves we all sat around and fisted each other. Nah, just kidding!
We went to a hotel where we had rooms reserved, you know the whole can’t see each other before the ceremony thing. So there we are, groom, groomsmen, and some ushers hanging out in the grooms room doing typical stuff like asking him if he is nervous yet and what not. About this time the topic of sleeping arrangements came up, oh yeah I guess we better figure that out real quick. So we get everything figured out and decide that we better turn in soon because of the big day the next day when these two scrotum sacks decided that they still wanted to party. We all tell them that is not a good idea plus neither of them had a car there so if they did want to go somewhere they would have to walk and we were no where near town. They decide to hit the bars anyway … walking. This was good for me because they were supposed to be rooming with me. Happy trails mofos!
So they leave and the rest of us are shooting the breeze for a bit when one of the other groomsmen looks at the little brother of the groom, who happens to be the best man, and nonchalantly says “You know I am going to fuck you in the ass tonight, right?” The rest of us were cracking up, but for some reason the little brother didn’t find it so funny (wonder why) and says “That aint cool man, that aint cool.” Then he slides the bed over against the wall and slept there with his ass wedged into the corner all night.
When did homeless become fashionable?
There is a guy in my office who I am sure is on the cutting edge of fashion. He has the messy hair, never clean shaven but never has more than a five o’clock shadow (I would love to know how he pulls that off) and he has the really cool “notice me” frames for his glasses. But I want to buy his ass an iron and a mirror. Every day he is sporting a sport coat that looks like he found on the side of the road and his shirts must have been wadded up in the pocket of said sport coat. And his shirts are never tucked in, but really what would be the point. But when did lazy slob become fashion? I should embrace this “trend” so that I could get more sleep at night.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Looking back, what chapter or we on now? I think I lost place or skipped some ... anyway
The alter
Remember my stories about my friends in Virginia? Here is one I almost forgot.
It is back to southern Virginia we go. Why? Because it is the weekend, so it must be time to party.
We have one of our typical packed house Friday night parties along with way to much booze. Saturday morning we wake up around the crack of noon and pretty much come and go as we need during the day.
For some unknown reason I just felt like hanging out at my buddy’s house. And since he has always let me crash with him with no problems I thought I would do something nice for him and clean up his yard. It was a nice day, I think everyone has gone to do something and I didn’t just want to sit there.
So I go outside, start to pick up the big trash and put it in the trash can and clean up broken limbs off of trees and stuff like that. You get the picture.
For some reason I just looked up and took a look at the front of the house. And I see one spot where it looks like it has been egged or something over and over again. But nowhere else, just this one spot. Then I notice that there is a window right above the spot with no screen in it. What the hell?
So I go inside and make my way up to that room. I go over to the window and see that the screen is inside the house on the floor, there are several partially full glasses of water scattered on the floor near the window, and all of these pillows are stacked up on the floor in front of the window. What the hell?
The window was open so I leaned out and oh damn, this shit reeks! I close the window and go back downstairs and out to the front yard, get the water hose and try to hose this crap off the house.
Not to bad, it looks a little discolored still but much better than before. I put the water hose back up and don’t think anything else about it. Then I finish picking up the beer cans and empty ice bags and so on.
That night rolls around and we end up having another get together, shocking I know. During that party the guy who owns the house comes over to me while I am talking to this chic and says “hey, thanks for cleaning up the alter” to which I replied “yeah, no problem. Wait, what alter?” He says “You know, the alter, upstairs, but it is going to need it again tomorrow”. He then tells me that he has already cleaned up the inside because he didn’t know that the window was closed. Still not getting it I say “Alter? Alter to what?” He says “I don’t know, but that’s what I call it because I do a lot of praying up there at night when I am throwing up after drinking too much.
Lovely.
Remember my stories about my friends in Virginia? Here is one I almost forgot.
It is back to southern Virginia we go. Why? Because it is the weekend, so it must be time to party.
We have one of our typical packed house Friday night parties along with way to much booze. Saturday morning we wake up around the crack of noon and pretty much come and go as we need during the day.
For some unknown reason I just felt like hanging out at my buddy’s house. And since he has always let me crash with him with no problems I thought I would do something nice for him and clean up his yard. It was a nice day, I think everyone has gone to do something and I didn’t just want to sit there.
So I go outside, start to pick up the big trash and put it in the trash can and clean up broken limbs off of trees and stuff like that. You get the picture.
For some reason I just looked up and took a look at the front of the house. And I see one spot where it looks like it has been egged or something over and over again. But nowhere else, just this one spot. Then I notice that there is a window right above the spot with no screen in it. What the hell?
So I go inside and make my way up to that room. I go over to the window and see that the screen is inside the house on the floor, there are several partially full glasses of water scattered on the floor near the window, and all of these pillows are stacked up on the floor in front of the window. What the hell?
The window was open so I leaned out and oh damn, this shit reeks! I close the window and go back downstairs and out to the front yard, get the water hose and try to hose this crap off the house.
Not to bad, it looks a little discolored still but much better than before. I put the water hose back up and don’t think anything else about it. Then I finish picking up the beer cans and empty ice bags and so on.
That night rolls around and we end up having another get together, shocking I know. During that party the guy who owns the house comes over to me while I am talking to this chic and says “hey, thanks for cleaning up the alter” to which I replied “yeah, no problem. Wait, what alter?” He says “You know, the alter, upstairs, but it is going to need it again tomorrow”. He then tells me that he has already cleaned up the inside because he didn’t know that the window was closed. Still not getting it I say “Alter? Alter to what?” He says “I don’t know, but that’s what I call it because I do a lot of praying up there at night when I am throwing up after drinking too much.
Lovely.
More looking back
Shortly after high school graduation a buddy of mine was dating a girl who lived in a town about 45 minutes away from where we lived. He ask me if I wanted to go on a blind date with one of his girlfriends friends. Why not right, what do I have to loose. Come to find out he was more interested in not making the drive by himself more than he was interested in setting me up. That’s the kind of people I hang out with, always thinking of others. So anyway, he talks me into it and we set it up for the following Friday night.
We get about 35 minutes into this trip when he looks over at me and says “Oh, don’t stare at her scar” and looks back at the road. Not wanting to make a scene I am thinking to myself “What?!?! What the fuck do you mean don’t stare at her scar?” Like I said, that was what I was thinking. Then he tells me that she was in a bad wreck where she hit the dash with her head and now has a big scar going across her forehead. Again, I don’t say anything but I am thinking “great, he set me up with Frankenstein”. The rest of the drive up I am trying to figure out a way to get the hell out of there just as soon as possible.
We finally get there and I am already ready to leave. He knocks on the door and this cute little brunette answers the door. Nice body, good sized boobs, nice face, nice dress and this little headband and so on. I am thinking that my buddy has done pretty well for himself. She tells us to come in but before we can I see another girl run by and I think to myself “whew, she looks pretty normal”.
We have a very casual conversation while we are waiting on the second girl to finish getting ready. Typical stuff, how was the drive up, did you have a good day and so on. Then the second girl walks up, apologizes for running late and we exchange hellos. As I tell her that it is nice to meet her when my buddy interjects and says oh no, she is my date, this is the girl you are going out with who answered the door. Then it was like one of those movies with the extreme close up. All I could see was this headband. Son-of-a-bitch! He wasn’t kidding. Now I have to make a conscious effort not to stare at the headband.
Anyone who knows me knows that I have never been accused of being quiet. But man I didn’t say five words on the way to dinner. I had this fear that she could ask me where I worked and all I would be able to say is “scar” or “Frankenstein” or something like that. Like I had turrets syndrome or something like that.
We make our way to this restaurant, get seated and give our drink orders when the girls said that they needed to be excused and that they would be right back. There are four of us sitting at this table where me and my buddy are sitting right across from each other and the girls would have been sitting across from each other also. So after the girls leave for the power room, my buddy leans over and our conversation went a little like this:
Him: So what do you think?
Me: Dude, what in the fuck is wrong with you?
Him: Me? What is wrong with you? You have not said three words all night.
Me: That’s because you set me up with goddamn Frankenstein! Like I am going to pour on the charm. And don’t you dare tell her where I live!
Him: HA HA HA! I forgot about that.
Me: Well, I didn’t!
Him: HA HA, When you didn’t freak out about it, I thought you didn’t fall for it.
About this time the girls are walking back from the bathroom when my buddy says “Hey, can you lift up that headband so he can see that you don’t have a scar that you are covering up.
Me: Dude, you’re a dickhead. I only thought that because you said it.
Him: Come on, show him.
Even though I told her not to worry about it she wanted to show me.
Me: Dude, if you weren’t my ride home I would haul right now.
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Looking back, chapter 7
A buddy of mine’s grandfather is an old horse trader from way back. I don’t think he ever paid money for anything, just traded stuff for it. One time he was talking to someone about who knows what and the guy, knowing that the old man would take something in trade for it, tells him “I’ll give you a chicken for it”. Apparently it was around lunch time and the grandfather must have thought he was talking about food, like KFC or something. But what the guy was talking about is a real live fighting rooster that someone had given to him.
So my buddy and I go to his house after school and see this truck tool box. I ask my buddy what’s up with the truck box and he says that he doesn’t know. We begin to walk over to the box and we can hear something moving around in it. As we open it to see what is in it, this chicken jumps out and takes off down the driveway a bit. We just stand there and watch it for a minute when just wondering why there was a live chicken in a truck box in his driveway. Then something strange happens, my buddy says “I guess we need to get it back in the box” and squats down and begins to call the chicken. Mind you, we have no idea that this is a fighting rooster. So he calls the rooster and it turns and begins to run at him. It starts flapping its wings and looks like it might be flying a couple of inches off of the ground.
Nervously my buddy stands up wondering what this chicken is doing. And the chicken doesn’t break it’s stride. This chicken is running right at him. Then without slowing down, it, for the lack of a better word, climbs up my buddy and then down his back. Instantly my buddy doubles over. Then he slowly stands back up and I see all of these red specs showing up on his shirt and then I notice all of these little holes all over his shirt. Then he tells me “Sweezey, get that damn chicken!” I said “Holy shit dude, that chicken just kicked your ass. It literally it’s way up and down your ass!”
This really ticks my buddy off. He walks into his house and says that he will be right back. So I am just hanging out waiting for him and watching this chicken explore the area . My buddy comes back out with this aluminum baseball bat. Here is the scene, this guy is standing the in the driveway like Robin Ventura waiting on that Nolan Ryan fastball, then he starts calling the chicken again. “Here chick, chick, chick. Here chick, chick, chick.” Well it is the same song, but the second verse. Here comes this chicken, coming right at him again. My buddy swings for the fences and knocks this bird back about fifteen feet or so and the chicken SHAKES IT OFF.
Yeah, that’s right, he shook it off. The chicken gets back to his feet and shakes his head back and forth a few times and comes right back at us. This is when I decided that I am not going to mess with Robo-Chicken. So we both make a run for my car. As we are sitting in my car Superchicken jumps up on the hood.
Do you have any idea how stupid you feel sitting in your car so that a chicken wont “get you”?
So my buddy and I go to his house after school and see this truck tool box. I ask my buddy what’s up with the truck box and he says that he doesn’t know. We begin to walk over to the box and we can hear something moving around in it. As we open it to see what is in it, this chicken jumps out and takes off down the driveway a bit. We just stand there and watch it for a minute when just wondering why there was a live chicken in a truck box in his driveway. Then something strange happens, my buddy says “I guess we need to get it back in the box” and squats down and begins to call the chicken. Mind you, we have no idea that this is a fighting rooster. So he calls the rooster and it turns and begins to run at him. It starts flapping its wings and looks like it might be flying a couple of inches off of the ground.
Nervously my buddy stands up wondering what this chicken is doing. And the chicken doesn’t break it’s stride. This chicken is running right at him. Then without slowing down, it, for the lack of a better word, climbs up my buddy and then down his back. Instantly my buddy doubles over. Then he slowly stands back up and I see all of these red specs showing up on his shirt and then I notice all of these little holes all over his shirt. Then he tells me “Sweezey, get that damn chicken!” I said “Holy shit dude, that chicken just kicked your ass. It literally it’s way up and down your ass!”
This really ticks my buddy off. He walks into his house and says that he will be right back. So I am just hanging out waiting for him and watching this chicken explore the area . My buddy comes back out with this aluminum baseball bat. Here is the scene, this guy is standing the in the driveway like Robin Ventura waiting on that Nolan Ryan fastball, then he starts calling the chicken again. “Here chick, chick, chick. Here chick, chick, chick.” Well it is the same song, but the second verse. Here comes this chicken, coming right at him again. My buddy swings for the fences and knocks this bird back about fifteen feet or so and the chicken SHAKES IT OFF.
Yeah, that’s right, he shook it off. The chicken gets back to his feet and shakes his head back and forth a few times and comes right back at us. This is when I decided that I am not going to mess with Robo-Chicken. So we both make a run for my car. As we are sitting in my car Superchicken jumps up on the hood.
Do you have any idea how stupid you feel sitting in your car so that a chicken wont “get you”?
Looking back, chapter 6
Remember getting a hotel room when you were in school and wanted to party but nobody was having one? And there were too many cops out? Oh like I am only one!
Yeah, those were good times. I can remember one time where this high class road side motel actually had a magic fingers bed. For some reason one of the guys with us REALLY wanted to lay on the bed while the magic fingers where on. I mean he was really adamant about it. So he drops a quarter in the box and nothing happens. He puts in another quarter and again nothing happens. Time to investigate why it is not working. Everyone knows that drinking and electricity mix oh so well. So here are eight to ten guys standing around a hotel room, drinking, with the lights and television on. Magic-fingers man finds the problem, the wires were cut and taped back together but has come apart again. So magic-fingers guy stands up and says "here is the problem" removes the tape and goes to reconnect the wires. It is at this time that there is this bright flash of light and a loud pop and everything in the room goes dark. From where I was standing I could see the silhouette of magic-fingers man. He says "oh shit" and hits the deck like we are being shot at. So this place is pitch black and we all start laughing and ask magic-fingers man why he dropped to the floor. A few minutes later the hotel manager knocks on the door and ask if everything is ok. Since we couldn't see the beer we weren't able to hide it. We tell him we are ok and he goes off to flip the breaker or something I guess. A couple of minutes later he comes back and ask us who all was staying in the room and so on. Then he asked us what happened. We told him that we wanted to see the magic fingers work then we noticed that the wires weren't connected. So he is going to fix it, apparently magic-fingers man had the wires crossed. The manager fixes it and the bed begins to work. He leaves and magic-fingers man gets his wish. So he is laying there and well, it got boring pretty quickly. But the bed just keeps going and going and going. It kept going so long that we got annoyed by it so we went to unplug it, but the plug was hot, real hot. Like to hot to touch hot. So we decided to just leave it alone. Magic-fingers man sits up and starts to rock back and forth like he is riding a mechanical bull. It is at this point that the bed breaks loose from the wall and begins to move around floor a bit. Kind of like the old electronic football games. Now this could be fun. A bunch of teenage boys drinking and riding a magic fingers bed around a hotel room. Oh man, that sounds real bad. Anyway we are all piled on the bed and shaking around a bit when it seems to be moving more than it has before. We are headed right for the TV. Haha, we are going to slowly crash into the TV. Hey, what is that burning smell? Oh shit! smoke is coming out from under the bed and the plastic on the plug cover is melting. Thankfully someone kicked the wires apart where they were taped together.
Looks like check out time is right about now!
Looking back chapter 5
The other day I got a sales paper in the mail that already had Halloween stuff in it. Which got me to thinking about making a trip out to Thrillvania (www.thrillvania.com). If you are ever in east Texas around Halloween, and like haunted houses, check it out. You will not be disappointed.
But this blog isn't about Thrillvania, it is about a haunted house that some friends and I went to while I lived in Tampa. You see, I have a friend named George who has this love/hate relationship with haunted houses. He loves going to them but he can't help freaking out while in them. You may hear more laughing than screaming when George is in a haunted house.
Any way, back to the story. We go to this haunted house that has the usual cast of characters: Dracula; Frankenstein; The Mummy; Wolfman; Freddy Kruger; Jason Voorhees; Leatherface; and so on. So you walk up to this haunted house and there is a guy dressed as Dracula laying in a coffin with the creepy organ music playing and a creepy guy giving a eulogy of sorts. After his little speech we are ushered past the coffin where I suspected the guy in the coffin to reach out or something. But nope, he just laid there. But what they did have was a guy dressed like Dracula hiding behind the coffin who jumped out at the crowd. You know, if they were smart, they would have sold new underwear in this place, they would have made a killing.
So the crowd scurries out of the room … except for George. George stands there like he is at attention leaning forward a bit screaming at the top of his lungs like he is trying to knock the guy over with his voice, frozen in fear.
We go through a couple more rooms and it is the usual stuff. Then we get to Frankenstein's Monster. You got the monster on this tilted table, pretty much with his feet on the floor, a Jacob's ladder is in the corner and the mad scientist in a white lab coat is running around behind this little half wall. Shortly after everyone is in the room this strobe light goes off and a smoke machine goes off and so on. Then the monster goes haywire and breaks through the half wall and the crowd runs down the hall. Except for George and I, George is crouched down hiding behind me and here comes good ole Frank. George and Frank are … well, basically dancing, around me like the keystone cops or something. Frankenstein reaches for George on one side, George ducks to the other side. Frank walks around the left side of me, George darts out to the right side of me. This kind of thing goes on for several seconds. The whole time George is screaming at the top of his lungs. I mean blood curdling, full of fear screaming. I, on the other hand, am laughing my ass off. Finally George sees his escape route, the door to the hallway, and makes a break for it. The guy playing Frankenstein shakes his head and cracks a grin. I give him a high five and go down the hall to catch the rest of the group.
I catch up to them and go through a few more rooms then we get to this bloody "crime scene" room, but there are no characters to be found. It would be at this point that everyone can hear George proclaim "Man this aint cool, this aint cool at all". Right after that you hear a chainsaw crank up and a guy dressed as Leatherface jumps out from behind a curtain and comes right at George. And George punches him. Yeah, right in the face. Fortunately the punch didn't connect very well and the guy was ok. So I rush George out of the room and give Leatherface a quick "sorry" and we catch back up to the rest of the group. I pull George aside and tell him that he has got to calm down and that they are not going to hurt him and he tells me he will try.
Then we get to the Wolfman. He is in a cage, thank god! Looks like all we have to do is walk along this path that goes on three sides of the cage. Worst thing that would happen is that he would reach out through the bars right? Wrong, as we soon found out some of the bars are made of rubber. So wolfie bends the bars like he is going to break out, this is when George decided that he was going to bend the bars back. It's just that the Wolfman's head, right shoulder and arm were already through the bars. George, true to form, is screaming at the top of his lungs and so in the Wolfman. The Wolfman is screaming "HEY, HEY, HEY! Let go of the bars kid! Let go!" Fortunately we were able to get George to let go and go through the doors which lead out of the house where the manager, owner, and some of the staff were waiting for us. Lovely. We hear "Hey you, come over here" Yeah this don't look good. George gets a little questioning, tells them that he was just scared. George gets a little lecture and we are on our way back to our car. George gets embarrassed when we tell it, but it is one hell of a story.
But this blog isn't about Thrillvania, it is about a haunted house that some friends and I went to while I lived in Tampa. You see, I have a friend named George who has this love/hate relationship with haunted houses. He loves going to them but he can't help freaking out while in them. You may hear more laughing than screaming when George is in a haunted house.
Any way, back to the story. We go to this haunted house that has the usual cast of characters: Dracula; Frankenstein; The Mummy; Wolfman; Freddy Kruger; Jason Voorhees; Leatherface; and so on. So you walk up to this haunted house and there is a guy dressed as Dracula laying in a coffin with the creepy organ music playing and a creepy guy giving a eulogy of sorts. After his little speech we are ushered past the coffin where I suspected the guy in the coffin to reach out or something. But nope, he just laid there. But what they did have was a guy dressed like Dracula hiding behind the coffin who jumped out at the crowd. You know, if they were smart, they would have sold new underwear in this place, they would have made a killing.
So the crowd scurries out of the room … except for George. George stands there like he is at attention leaning forward a bit screaming at the top of his lungs like he is trying to knock the guy over with his voice, frozen in fear.
We go through a couple more rooms and it is the usual stuff. Then we get to Frankenstein's Monster. You got the monster on this tilted table, pretty much with his feet on the floor, a Jacob's ladder is in the corner and the mad scientist in a white lab coat is running around behind this little half wall. Shortly after everyone is in the room this strobe light goes off and a smoke machine goes off and so on. Then the monster goes haywire and breaks through the half wall and the crowd runs down the hall. Except for George and I, George is crouched down hiding behind me and here comes good ole Frank. George and Frank are … well, basically dancing, around me like the keystone cops or something. Frankenstein reaches for George on one side, George ducks to the other side. Frank walks around the left side of me, George darts out to the right side of me. This kind of thing goes on for several seconds. The whole time George is screaming at the top of his lungs. I mean blood curdling, full of fear screaming. I, on the other hand, am laughing my ass off. Finally George sees his escape route, the door to the hallway, and makes a break for it. The guy playing Frankenstein shakes his head and cracks a grin. I give him a high five and go down the hall to catch the rest of the group.
I catch up to them and go through a few more rooms then we get to this bloody "crime scene" room, but there are no characters to be found. It would be at this point that everyone can hear George proclaim "Man this aint cool, this aint cool at all". Right after that you hear a chainsaw crank up and a guy dressed as Leatherface jumps out from behind a curtain and comes right at George. And George punches him. Yeah, right in the face. Fortunately the punch didn't connect very well and the guy was ok. So I rush George out of the room and give Leatherface a quick "sorry" and we catch back up to the rest of the group. I pull George aside and tell him that he has got to calm down and that they are not going to hurt him and he tells me he will try.
Then we get to the Wolfman. He is in a cage, thank god! Looks like all we have to do is walk along this path that goes on three sides of the cage. Worst thing that would happen is that he would reach out through the bars right? Wrong, as we soon found out some of the bars are made of rubber. So wolfie bends the bars like he is going to break out, this is when George decided that he was going to bend the bars back. It's just that the Wolfman's head, right shoulder and arm were already through the bars. George, true to form, is screaming at the top of his lungs and so in the Wolfman. The Wolfman is screaming "HEY, HEY, HEY! Let go of the bars kid! Let go!" Fortunately we were able to get George to let go and go through the doors which lead out of the house where the manager, owner, and some of the staff were waiting for us. Lovely. We hear "Hey you, come over here" Yeah this don't look good. George gets a little questioning, tells them that he was just scared. George gets a little lecture and we are on our way back to our car. George gets embarrassed when we tell it, but it is one hell of a story.
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