I'll get to the heart of the matter right off. If you want unconditional love then have kids. Have lots of them. Have a whole peck of 'em.
But just like in the fables and folk tales and songs of yesteryear every wish has a price. Wish upon a falling star, throw salt over your shoulder, do whatever it takes to ensure your lucky streak but it will end.
Luck is like a one night stand. While you may feel it lasts a lifetime and the pleasure is so good it will never end... it will.
I am the father of a 6 year old and 1 year old boy ( 2 different boys, not one stuck in time travel.)
My 6 year old is in the hospital, as he has been for the past 4 days. He's been sick for well over a week. My wife took him to the emergency room 1 week ago today. They said it was a virus, would clear itself, and not to worry. The doctor I spoke with tonight has a differing opinion. If he doesn't see improvement with tomorrow's x-ray then he's calling in the state specialists. Pnuemonnia in the left lung severe enough to have the two hospitals he's been in both in a state of emergency over him. Calling in the state appointed specialists or whatever you call them. Yeah, you can bet I'm hoping for the best.
Fever of > 100 for over a week.
Fever of > 105 is not uncommon at this point, with or without medicine.
The hospitals have made it clear to me and my wife they are unable to stabilize it through their efforts of every medicine known to man.
The one that worries me is the infection in the left lung that leaves him with only 50% breating capacity. As the doctor said tonight, "This isn't a big pneumonnia, it is a HUGE pneumonnia." I believe he is doing everything he can. He has the boy on a cocktail of antibiotics which is the the first thing the state boys would recommend, per his own admission. He's out of ideas though. short of making him look like a junkie and taking blood from him every half hour before and after the antibiotics he's out of ideas.
Tomorrow is the turning point. If no progress in the x-ray, then we call in the state boys and see what they can offer, if anything.
So to recap....
if You want unconditional love then have a child. But be mentally prepared for the worst at all times because you never know when it might strike. Even in a healthy child that you make wear his bike/skateboard helmet.
My advice:
get a dog.
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
As it turns out
Musically my tastes are all over the board. Even I have never been able to put a finger on what my musical deal is. And I've spent a lot of time with myself.
I would like to thank pandora.com for specifying what it is I like:
Subtle use of vocal harmony, a vocal-centric aesthetic, a dynamic male vocalist.
Now that's not exactly right, but it definitely hits one of the many blows of a hammer it takes to put a nail in coffin.
Figure out what you like at www.pandora.com
That's not a paid ad, they don't know anything about me, I don't have any affiliate status with them or anything of the like. I just like their service.
I would like to thank pandora.com for specifying what it is I like:
Subtle use of vocal harmony, a vocal-centric aesthetic, a dynamic male vocalist.
Now that's not exactly right, but it definitely hits one of the many blows of a hammer it takes to put a nail in coffin.
- I do like subtle harmony. Simon and Garfunkle are my heros.
- Vocal-centric for sure. I love music. But I want to hear the story. I think of it this way: People want a 5,000 square foot home. The wallpaper and carpet just add to the ambience. That's me, with the vocal for the square footage and instrumentation for carpets and wallpaper.
- Male Vocalist? Well not so much. I prefer to hear a woman sing. This goes back to my mom singing all the time. I loved to hear her sing. She used to sing all the time when I was a kid. The parents had a band and mom sang, played tamborine, guitar, and all the stuff she could do.
Figure out what you like at www.pandora.com
That's not a paid ad, they don't know anything about me, I don't have any affiliate status with them or anything of the like. I just like their service.
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Just for fun
| You Are 70% Boyish and 30% Girlish |
You are pretty evenly split down the middle - a total eunuch. Okay, kidding about the eunuch part. But you do get along with both sexes. You reject traditional gender roles. However, you don't actively fight them. You're just you. You don't try to be what people expect you to be. |
That pretty much describes me I suppose. I can empathize with women but I don't wish to be one. I don't always see eye to eye with guy friends and their crazy ideas but I can understand their desire for "more power" (up to a point.)
Anyway, saw that on a blog and thought it would be fun. 10 questions, easy enough. How do my loyal readers fare? Are you a boy or a girl? :)
Oh yeah, Happy Halloween!
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Please insert Twenty-Five cents for the next ten minutes
Are you there?
Yes?
Sorry, I had to insert some money and all the sounds went out on my end.
It's been a long while since I've had that conversation. Pay phones are really all but dead. There are a few scattered and sometimes I'll notice one (usually while someone is using it) and reminisce a bit. Growing up in the age of no cellular phones, being poor, and not having a home phone for most of my after-parent's-house life I got the opportunity to use pay phones from time to time.
Today I got to reminisce on something else phone related. This one took me back to before my pay phone life. This one took me back to my party-line days. The days when if the phone rang, it might not even be for your HOUSE for those that never had a party line. You could pick up the phone at any given time and hear a conversation of complete strangers. It was actually more common than not. A quick "sorry" and hang it up was the protocol of the day. We didn't know who else was on our party line. I certainly never asked and I assumed the parentals didn't either. The phone company wasn't going to give out the information, so it was a bit of an unsolved mystery.
Today I heard a message on the phone that took me back to those days. I'm sure those messages have a name, but I'm not in the phone business and know no phone jargon to toss about. But you know the messages, like, "We're sorry. The number you have dialed has been disconnected or is no longer in service. Please check the number and try again." Now you're up to speed. Anyway, today's message was, "We're sorry. All circuits are busy. Please hang up and try your call again later."
Has the phone infrastructure lagged that far behind? I was under the assumption that when DSL became a "thing" and for that matter the internet as a whole, the phone companies were raping us for new charges that they had never dreamed of. It was a phone company windfall for sure. Multiple phone lines in every house. Extra charges for high speed internet, equivilant to 2 or 3 times the rate for an actual phone line. More taxes to pay off the spanish-american war (that I half wonder how much is going to the government since the damned war has been over for a century and the thing is still not paid off.) Certainly the phone companies saw a boon of business and cash that was unequaled by anything in our lifetimes due to the internet. "OH, we had to pay for training, equipment, and internet infrastructure" the phone companies would cry. BS. We all know it. If you don't know it you must work for the phone company AND believe their hype. I don't know how much the phone company execs reaped in this time of the new gold rush but I'll bet it was quite a pretty penny. The right thing to do would have been to decline the X million dollar raise, saying it needed to go to more infrastructure to better the company... oh wait, I don't think I'd turn down even an X * .5 million dollar raise, so I'll quit with the rant. On with the closing thoughts.
...And yet, every now and then, even in times of non-emergency, sometimes Agnes down at the switchboard, gets overrun. In those times she just patches you through to switchboard #13... the one that says, "We're sorry. All circuits are busy. Please hang up and try your call again later." Today was that day in South Carolina.
Yes?
Sorry, I had to insert some money and all the sounds went out on my end.
It's been a long while since I've had that conversation. Pay phones are really all but dead. There are a few scattered and sometimes I'll notice one (usually while someone is using it) and reminisce a bit. Growing up in the age of no cellular phones, being poor, and not having a home phone for most of my after-parent's-house life I got the opportunity to use pay phones from time to time.
Today I got to reminisce on something else phone related. This one took me back to before my pay phone life. This one took me back to my party-line days. The days when if the phone rang, it might not even be for your HOUSE for those that never had a party line. You could pick up the phone at any given time and hear a conversation of complete strangers. It was actually more common than not. A quick "sorry" and hang it up was the protocol of the day. We didn't know who else was on our party line. I certainly never asked and I assumed the parentals didn't either. The phone company wasn't going to give out the information, so it was a bit of an unsolved mystery.
Today I heard a message on the phone that took me back to those days. I'm sure those messages have a name, but I'm not in the phone business and know no phone jargon to toss about. But you know the messages, like, "We're sorry. The number you have dialed has been disconnected or is no longer in service. Please check the number and try again." Now you're up to speed. Anyway, today's message was, "We're sorry. All circuits are busy. Please hang up and try your call again later."
Has the phone infrastructure lagged that far behind? I was under the assumption that when DSL became a "thing" and for that matter the internet as a whole, the phone companies were raping us for new charges that they had never dreamed of. It was a phone company windfall for sure. Multiple phone lines in every house. Extra charges for high speed internet, equivilant to 2 or 3 times the rate for an actual phone line. More taxes to pay off the spanish-american war (that I half wonder how much is going to the government since the damned war has been over for a century and the thing is still not paid off.) Certainly the phone companies saw a boon of business and cash that was unequaled by anything in our lifetimes due to the internet. "OH, we had to pay for training, equipment, and internet infrastructure" the phone companies would cry. BS. We all know it. If you don't know it you must work for the phone company AND believe their hype. I don't know how much the phone company execs reaped in this time of the new gold rush but I'll bet it was quite a pretty penny. The right thing to do would have been to decline the X million dollar raise, saying it needed to go to more infrastructure to better the company... oh wait, I don't think I'd turn down even an X * .5 million dollar raise, so I'll quit with the rant. On with the closing thoughts.
...And yet, every now and then, even in times of non-emergency, sometimes Agnes down at the switchboard, gets overrun. In those times she just patches you through to switchboard #13... the one that says, "We're sorry. All circuits are busy. Please hang up and try your call again later." Today was that day in South Carolina.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
If plumbers wore overalls Crack would be eradicated
When people talk about Savannah the main topic is usually the history, architecture, and all the other stuff that goes along with southern gothic. All of this is valid, Savannah is a beautiful city richly steeped in history good and bad. There are many fine factlets about the city that people keep alive by shoving down your throat at every opportunity but there is something in the background that Savannah possesses that people do not, in my opinion, stress enough.
Food.
I'm not talking about The Lady and Sons, I'm not talking about Uncle Bubba's (Paula Deens brother or somesuch nonsense.) I'm talking about food for the working class. Dives. Shitholes. Places one would go to unwind, eat a meal, and end up writing home about it (or at least think about writing home.) Savannah is rich in these places. I'm not trying to say all of Savannah is a shithole, just the good places.
Want a recommendation or two?
Islands Grill (not on an island, in Port Wentworth.) Try the Blackened grouper salad. Sounds bad, tastes great.
Cafe Loco. Neither a cafe nor very loco, near Tybee Island. Try the wings. Get the original if you like spicy, Carribbean Jerk if you prefer a non-hot experience.
Now what are your Savannah food recommendations?
Food.
I'm not talking about The Lady and Sons, I'm not talking about Uncle Bubba's (Paula Deens brother or somesuch nonsense.) I'm talking about food for the working class. Dives. Shitholes. Places one would go to unwind, eat a meal, and end up writing home about it (or at least think about writing home.) Savannah is rich in these places. I'm not trying to say all of Savannah is a shithole, just the good places.
Want a recommendation or two?
Islands Grill (not on an island, in Port Wentworth.) Try the Blackened grouper salad. Sounds bad, tastes great.
Cafe Loco. Neither a cafe nor very loco, near Tybee Island. Try the wings. Get the original if you like spicy, Carribbean Jerk if you prefer a non-hot experience.
Now what are your Savannah food recommendations?
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Maruchan Chicken flavor JumBowl Jumbo Size Ramen Noodle Soup
Being a bit of a Ramen connoisseur (as I have to be to maintain my position on not eating rat meat) I thought I'd offer up my professional opinion of a new product that the wife has graced me with, the Maruchan Chicken flavor JumBowl Jumbo Size Ramen Noodle Soup.
As with most of these products it says not to microwave it. I hastily disregard such notices on all occassions. I never seem to have the appropriate vessel to boil water in and teapots are so passé. I am not a microwave engineer so I can only speak for myself. My bowls don't explode, implode, or assplode.
The size of this bowl is listed as "Jumbo" which I like. 3.6 dry ounces (3.6-43 grams) is the listed weight but it comes in a nice big foam bowl. When I broke into the top I found wide noodles (well, wider than say a standard ramen -- don't expect momma mia's home made pasta folks,) the chicken flavor packet ( chicken dust, ) and the goody bag (also known as the dehyrdated, partially rehodginated foam in the shape of vegetebles you might recognize.) Instructions listed to combine all items (making me wonder why they weren't combined in the freeze drying/packing process but hey, what do I know,) add the boiling water, then wait. I amended the instructions to include cold water and 4 minutes in a microwave but your mileage may vary.
After cooking the meal I didn't get that heady aroma that I do with my favorite cup of soup type ramen but I continued on where I think few have ever been. I stirred well since the chicken dust was still floating atop the bowl and allowed it to steep for a few minutes.
The flavor was well rounded without being too overpowering and it filled a hole in my belly. There was very litte about it that I didn't like other than the inclusion of the mushrooms in the foam food packet but even those were sufficiently foamy enough to not taste too terrible. The broth amount was just right for the amount of noodles and the noodles themselves could be a contender for best ramen noodle noodles I've ever had. The only mystery to me is the cost. As I mentioned this was purchased for me and not by me. Therefore I can only say this is worth about twice as much as a cup of noodles type of ramen noodles goes for but I can't say what it really did go for.
One more day without rat meat. Times are good folks, times are good.
As with most of these products it says not to microwave it. I hastily disregard such notices on all occassions. I never seem to have the appropriate vessel to boil water in and teapots are so passé. I am not a microwave engineer so I can only speak for myself. My bowls don't explode, implode, or assplode.
The size of this bowl is listed as "Jumbo" which I like. 3.6 dry ounces (3.6-43 grams) is the listed weight but it comes in a nice big foam bowl. When I broke into the top I found wide noodles (well, wider than say a standard ramen -- don't expect momma mia's home made pasta folks,) the chicken flavor packet ( chicken dust, ) and the goody bag (also known as the dehyrdated, partially rehodginated foam in the shape of vegetebles you might recognize.) Instructions listed to combine all items (making me wonder why they weren't combined in the freeze drying/packing process but hey, what do I know,) add the boiling water, then wait. I amended the instructions to include cold water and 4 minutes in a microwave but your mileage may vary.
After cooking the meal I didn't get that heady aroma that I do with my favorite cup of soup type ramen but I continued on where I think few have ever been. I stirred well since the chicken dust was still floating atop the bowl and allowed it to steep for a few minutes.
The flavor was well rounded without being too overpowering and it filled a hole in my belly. There was very litte about it that I didn't like other than the inclusion of the mushrooms in the foam food packet but even those were sufficiently foamy enough to not taste too terrible. The broth amount was just right for the amount of noodles and the noodles themselves could be a contender for best ramen noodle noodles I've ever had. The only mystery to me is the cost. As I mentioned this was purchased for me and not by me. Therefore I can only say this is worth about twice as much as a cup of noodles type of ramen noodles goes for but I can't say what it really did go for.
One more day without rat meat. Times are good folks, times are good.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Este carne es de rata.
Why is it, I have been wondering as of late, that rats are bad but squirrels and chipmunks are good? They are all rodents. All are wild and not typically used as pets (I know, I know, some FREAKS have rats as pets. We'll disregard the freaks.)
Now I don't think anyone reading this right now would openly admit to being agreeable to the idea of eating a rat. John Spartan has tried rat and even though he wasn't fully aware of what it was... he seemed to be ok with it. I don't know if he would have eaten it if he had been aware it had been "de rata" or he might not have partaken so quickly. Hard to say. On the other hand, I have personally eaten squirrel, and I know a lot of other people have too, according to a quick recipe search on google.
a. It does taste like chicken (the flavorless meat)
and
b. Yes, I was in West Virginia at the time.
Other ROUSS' I have consumed in my lifetime include the industrious groundhog.
a. It does taste like chicken (the flavorless meat)
and
b. Yes, I was in West Virginia at the time.
But the thing I don't understand is that our public areas are filled with these rodents. Get one or two of their cousins in a dark subway and all of a sudden it is a horror flick. What gives? Either way, I don't think I'll be eating rats unless things get really lean around here.
Now I don't think anyone reading this right now would openly admit to being agreeable to the idea of eating a rat. John Spartan has tried rat and even though he wasn't fully aware of what it was... he seemed to be ok with it. I don't know if he would have eaten it if he had been aware it had been "de rata" or he might not have partaken so quickly. Hard to say. On the other hand, I have personally eaten squirrel, and I know a lot of other people have too, according to a quick recipe search on google.
a. It does taste like chicken (the flavorless meat)
and
b. Yes, I was in West Virginia at the time.
Other ROUSS' I have consumed in my lifetime include the industrious groundhog.
a. It does taste like chicken (the flavorless meat)
and
b. Yes, I was in West Virginia at the time.
But the thing I don't understand is that our public areas are filled with these rodents. Get one or two of their cousins in a dark subway and all of a sudden it is a horror flick. What gives? Either way, I don't think I'll be eating rats unless things get really lean around here.
Friday, September 22, 2006
Pawn shop ponderings
Recently I came to the realization that for the first time in 10 years I need a cassette player. Not a walkman or anything, but an old school, rca output, standard cassette player. It took me a few days before I realized I already own one but it is in storage about 250 miles away. Not feeling it was worth a dedicated trip I figured I'd stop into a couple pawn shops today to pick one up.
As with anything I decided on my maximum price for what this item was worth to me before I even walked in to see what they had. My number of the day was $35. It seemed like a reasonable request to me. It's not like they even make cassettes anymore, do they?
The first pawn shop I went into I browsed and left without saying a word. My thoughts were stuck. All I could think was, "What kind of crack are these people smoking?" They were asking $80 for a dirty, low quality unit that had a craptacular tag on it stating the price and the words, "Studio quality." I don't mean to knock on any company's niche in life but I'm pretty sure Fisher never made any studio quality anything. The only studio quality cassette players that come to my mind are the Nakamichi Dragon (which I'd consider offering my left nut for) or one of the upscale Marantz or Tascam models. Fisher isn't even in the top 25 as far as I'm concerned, at least not as far as "studio quality" goes. The pawn shop owner seemed to have a differing opinion.
Pawn shop #2 brought a bevy of items with no price tags. Great, I was going to have to speak. Ok, I'm now down to $30 for the inconvenience. They had 2 double cassette decks of dubious quality stacked with a tuner on top. The shopkeep finally finished taking the payment on account or whatever was going on which didn't involve any transacting of goods as far as I could tell and I inquired about the cassette player. I wasn't specific about which one because frankly my dear, I didn't give a damn. I recall one was an Onkyo but I forget the other, maybe a Pioneer or something similar. Both decent for home usage and either would suit my needs.
Then shopkeep went back to dealing with the customers that wanted one of everything and wanted everything for a dollar (no lie, I swear.)
I was looking around for alternatives and alas there were none. Then it hit me. Why would you package two dual deck cassette recorders together, along with a tuner and no amp? Just for fun I asked how much the "set" was. Shopkeep went to moving bicycles to get a gander at the sticker price when it was found that they weren't a set. The top deck, I think it was the Onkyo, had a sticker of $100. She said $100 and it just came out, I didn't have any control.
I'd like to be able to talk to pawn shop shoppers but alas the internet is not necessarily the best medium to do so. Still, if you happen to know one, let them know that I said they are getting robbed. I found one online, brand new, with warranty, for $89.99.
Still, I think I'll just go get mine.
As with anything I decided on my maximum price for what this item was worth to me before I even walked in to see what they had. My number of the day was $35. It seemed like a reasonable request to me. It's not like they even make cassettes anymore, do they?
The first pawn shop I went into I browsed and left without saying a word. My thoughts were stuck. All I could think was, "What kind of crack are these people smoking?" They were asking $80 for a dirty, low quality unit that had a craptacular tag on it stating the price and the words, "Studio quality." I don't mean to knock on any company's niche in life but I'm pretty sure Fisher never made any studio quality anything. The only studio quality cassette players that come to my mind are the Nakamichi Dragon (which I'd consider offering my left nut for) or one of the upscale Marantz or Tascam models. Fisher isn't even in the top 25 as far as I'm concerned, at least not as far as "studio quality" goes. The pawn shop owner seemed to have a differing opinion.
Pawn shop #2 brought a bevy of items with no price tags. Great, I was going to have to speak. Ok, I'm now down to $30 for the inconvenience. They had 2 double cassette decks of dubious quality stacked with a tuner on top. The shopkeep finally finished taking the payment on account or whatever was going on which didn't involve any transacting of goods as far as I could tell and I inquired about the cassette player. I wasn't specific about which one because frankly my dear, I didn't give a damn. I recall one was an Onkyo but I forget the other, maybe a Pioneer or something similar. Both decent for home usage and either would suit my needs.
"Oh, all of those [indicating the stack] come as a set."
"oh, alright."
Then shopkeep went back to dealing with the customers that wanted one of everything and wanted everything for a dollar (no lie, I swear.)
I was looking around for alternatives and alas there were none. Then it hit me. Why would you package two dual deck cassette recorders together, along with a tuner and no amp? Just for fun I asked how much the "set" was. Shopkeep went to moving bicycles to get a gander at the sticker price when it was found that they weren't a set. The top deck, I think it was the Onkyo, had a sticker of $100. She said $100 and it just came out, I didn't have any control.
I can buy a new one for that.
Well if you pay in cash you get a good discount.
(what am I going to do, put it on layaway and make payments? -- not said but thought)
How much of a discount?
$75, tax included.
No thanks, I'll just buy new.
I'd like to be able to talk to pawn shop shoppers but alas the internet is not necessarily the best medium to do so. Still, if you happen to know one, let them know that I said they are getting robbed. I found one online, brand new, with warranty, for $89.99.
Still, I think I'll just go get mine.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
“I think it's wrong that only one company makes the game Monopoly.” --Steven Wright
I have a confession to make. My wife has a problem. I didn't realize it when we started dating even though the signs were present. It is a complex problem and I think I am still learning and understanding it.
I'll get straight to the goods (or the bads.)
My wife will purchase anything with the word Monopoly on it. Except the game itself. It's the worst when McSalty's has their Monopoly game (that we have yet to win anything of value on) because for those two and a half weeks the game runs all we eat is McSalty's. Everything has to come in the MegaLargeHugeFatAss size because you get the extra game pieces that way.
Now about the game itself, as in the board game. She doesn't like it. She will play it but she's one of those players that is forgiving and will loan money to other players out of the goodness of her heart. I know how to play monopoly and I know how to play to win. I don't play any other way. When I was young I played by the "I'll loan you enough to get you back around to go again" but I realized that was why Monopoly took 4 hours to complete a game. It's a long game if you aren't playing to win. That's why people don't like to play it. So regardless of your rules of choice, the way to win is to buy everything you can at any cost and eventually you may or may not end up victorious.
I think that's her plan. Buy up all the game pieces, monopoly trinkets, and memoribilia and one day she will be teh winnar!
Other than that she's the perfect wife, I promise. :)
I'll get straight to the goods (or the bads.)
My wife will purchase anything with the word Monopoly on it. Except the game itself. It's the worst when McSalty's has their Monopoly game (that we have yet to win anything of value on) because for those two and a half weeks the game runs all we eat is McSalty's. Everything has to come in the MegaLargeHugeFatAss size because you get the extra game pieces that way.
Now about the game itself, as in the board game. She doesn't like it. She will play it but she's one of those players that is forgiving and will loan money to other players out of the goodness of her heart. I know how to play monopoly and I know how to play to win. I don't play any other way. When I was young I played by the "I'll loan you enough to get you back around to go again" but I realized that was why Monopoly took 4 hours to complete a game. It's a long game if you aren't playing to win. That's why people don't like to play it. So regardless of your rules of choice, the way to win is to buy everything you can at any cost and eventually you may or may not end up victorious.
I think that's her plan. Buy up all the game pieces, monopoly trinkets, and memoribilia and one day she will be teh winnar!
Other than that she's the perfect wife, I promise. :)
Friday, August 18, 2006
It's amazing how good toast smells when it isn't yours
squal·or (skw
l
r)
n.
lor, from squl
re, to be filthy. See squalid.]
I saw squalor again yesterday morning. It looked just like I remembered it. Oddly happy but sad all the same. Being a fairly pensive person for the better part of my life I was aware of squalor and was at that time ashamed of it. I am no longer ashamed that I grew up poor. I realize now I had nothing to do with it and there was no way I could change it. Seeing it again made me remember the good times that squalor brought me.
Little pleasures were big ones. Every smile was a rainbow, everything that went right was a conquest. Every tree in the orchard was my friend and I understood animals and they understood me. My wife refers to my stories of this time in my life as my "Pennsylvania walked to school uphill both ways in the snow" stories and I understand that. They are not by any means believable. For example, the year Star Wars hit the theaters and Close Encounters of the 3rd Kind I was living without electricity, running water, or indoor plumbing. Baths were in a wash tub, like you'd see on the Waltons. The water was heated atop a wood stove and the water was drawn from a well with a bucket. Meals were cooked over a wood cook stove. We were dirty kids. Having to draw one's own bath water from a well in the back yard was not much fun and it certainly didn't happen every day. We had horses, a pig, a cow, and each other. We spent much time shovelling manure. Life was filled with hard work and I only had to do a minute amount of what everyone else was expected to do since I was the youngest and quite small.
I understood our position. All of our neighbors had electricity, water, all of that stuff. All of the kids at school had it too.
This is where my love of bicycles was born. I could get on my bicycle and ride far away where it was just me on my bicycle and no baggage of what I did or didn't have at home. It was the freedom from squalor and the adventure of a little boy. Every bike ride was an epic in my mind with big dreams of going even farther than I had gone on the last ride. Every return trip was a coming home of the victor who had gone forth and explored the world.
To each his own but I wouldn't trade my memories of squalor for anything. Just because we didn't have much doesn't mean we weren't happy. I hope the squalor I saw was as happy as I was.
lr)n.
- A filthy and wretched condition or quality.
lor, from squlre, to be filthy. See squalid.]I saw squalor again yesterday morning. It looked just like I remembered it. Oddly happy but sad all the same. Being a fairly pensive person for the better part of my life I was aware of squalor and was at that time ashamed of it. I am no longer ashamed that I grew up poor. I realize now I had nothing to do with it and there was no way I could change it. Seeing it again made me remember the good times that squalor brought me.
Little pleasures were big ones. Every smile was a rainbow, everything that went right was a conquest. Every tree in the orchard was my friend and I understood animals and they understood me. My wife refers to my stories of this time in my life as my "Pennsylvania walked to school uphill both ways in the snow" stories and I understand that. They are not by any means believable. For example, the year Star Wars hit the theaters and Close Encounters of the 3rd Kind I was living without electricity, running water, or indoor plumbing. Baths were in a wash tub, like you'd see on the Waltons. The water was heated atop a wood stove and the water was drawn from a well with a bucket. Meals were cooked over a wood cook stove. We were dirty kids. Having to draw one's own bath water from a well in the back yard was not much fun and it certainly didn't happen every day. We had horses, a pig, a cow, and each other. We spent much time shovelling manure. Life was filled with hard work and I only had to do a minute amount of what everyone else was expected to do since I was the youngest and quite small.
I understood our position. All of our neighbors had electricity, water, all of that stuff. All of the kids at school had it too.
This is where my love of bicycles was born. I could get on my bicycle and ride far away where it was just me on my bicycle and no baggage of what I did or didn't have at home. It was the freedom from squalor and the adventure of a little boy. Every bike ride was an epic in my mind with big dreams of going even farther than I had gone on the last ride. Every return trip was a coming home of the victor who had gone forth and explored the world.
To each his own but I wouldn't trade my memories of squalor for anything. Just because we didn't have much doesn't mean we weren't happy. I hope the squalor I saw was as happy as I was.
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
everyone should work at a porn store
For the first time since my days of squalor and hiding from the man ( ~ 1995 ) I do not have cable, satellite, or any other manner of watching television other than the local news through the rabbit ears.
I miss it not. The wife is beginning to twitch uncontrollably though.
Yeah, I really lived a life of hiding for a while. Let's just say my manner of paying for college was unconventional and considered somewhat less than legal. Damn the man. The man, we'll call him the DEA, showed up at my door. He (while it was really a they) mentioned that someone smelled an illegal (non-harmful) substance coming from my room. I invited them in and went so far as to put the concealed substance in their hands (of course it was inside the container I handed them.) They did not want to search what I handed them so off they went empty handed.
Yes folks, I not only have brass balls but I was as stupid of a person as has ever walked the earth. But it bought me one more day of freedom.
The next day we decided to head to another room for the evening festivities (on another floor.)
Guess who knocked?
Guess who left college that night? Guess who never went back to his room to retrieve his clothes, books, anything? Yeah, that's me.
Stopped by mom's in the middle of the night, informed her she hadn't seen me, told her I'd explain when I could and no, I hadn't hurt anyone. Headed off for the big city to hide for about a year.
I worked for cash for a year. That was the year I worked at the porn shop. Yes, it was mafia run. They were decent to work for. They paid me well and I kept the shop up. No, I didn't have to do cleanup duty. I just ran the register. I never opened any accounts other than what I had to. I had electric service and gas when I needed it but I didn't get a phone or any other non-essential utilities. I didn't buy a car; I didn't have insurance. I watched my back and rode a bicycle where I needed to go. I knew my routes out of town. I knew the dark corners of the neighborhoods and how to utilize them. I made sure my friends knew not to ask questions if I disappeared. Coworkers were not privy to such info. It was a porn shop and I was working for cash. All they needed to know was I'd be there when I was scheduled.
No, girls didn't come in. Well, every now and then on a Saturday night. I remember one couple came in and wanted me to close the shop so the wife could service me while the husband taped it. No go. I wasn't going to lose my job over a few minutes of good time. They gave me directions to their house. No, I didn't ever show up. I was sexually jaded by that point. It was but an act that many people went through.
I don't think everyone should have to hide from the man but I do think everyone should work at a porn store for about a year. It puts things in perspective.
I miss it not. The wife is beginning to twitch uncontrollably though.
Yeah, I really lived a life of hiding for a while. Let's just say my manner of paying for college was unconventional and considered somewhat less than legal. Damn the man. The man, we'll call him the DEA, showed up at my door. He (while it was really a they) mentioned that someone smelled an illegal (non-harmful) substance coming from my room. I invited them in and went so far as to put the concealed substance in their hands (of course it was inside the container I handed them.) They did not want to search what I handed them so off they went empty handed.
Yes folks, I not only have brass balls but I was as stupid of a person as has ever walked the earth. But it bought me one more day of freedom.
The next day we decided to head to another room for the evening festivities (on another floor.)
Guess who knocked?
Guess who left college that night? Guess who never went back to his room to retrieve his clothes, books, anything? Yeah, that's me.
Stopped by mom's in the middle of the night, informed her she hadn't seen me, told her I'd explain when I could and no, I hadn't hurt anyone. Headed off for the big city to hide for about a year.
I worked for cash for a year. That was the year I worked at the porn shop. Yes, it was mafia run. They were decent to work for. They paid me well and I kept the shop up. No, I didn't have to do cleanup duty. I just ran the register. I never opened any accounts other than what I had to. I had electric service and gas when I needed it but I didn't get a phone or any other non-essential utilities. I didn't buy a car; I didn't have insurance. I watched my back and rode a bicycle where I needed to go. I knew my routes out of town. I knew the dark corners of the neighborhoods and how to utilize them. I made sure my friends knew not to ask questions if I disappeared. Coworkers were not privy to such info. It was a porn shop and I was working for cash. All they needed to know was I'd be there when I was scheduled.
No, girls didn't come in. Well, every now and then on a Saturday night. I remember one couple came in and wanted me to close the shop so the wife could service me while the husband taped it. No go. I wasn't going to lose my job over a few minutes of good time. They gave me directions to their house. No, I didn't ever show up. I was sexually jaded by that point. It was but an act that many people went through.
I don't think everyone should have to hide from the man but I do think everyone should work at a porn store for about a year. It puts things in perspective.
Friday, July 28, 2006
Oh how I've missed you. My sweet, sweet time to postulate and pontificate about the various and sundry things that happen in the course of a day. The time to stop and smell the roses. ...or at least stop and think about the smell of the roses.
Time has been one thing I have not had much of lately. New job, new living quarters, new utility bills (have you seen the price of cable these days?) and all of that jazz.
Pardon me if this seems to be a mental adolescent ejaculation of various topics. Maybe I'll sort it out later but I doubt it.
Cable is expensive. The local company is wanting ~ $60 per month for nothing special. Just cable. No pay channels or anything. Yeah, well DirecTV will hook me up pretty sweet for that kind of jenga. I told the wife we'd go with that but I haven't had time to really hash it out yet so for the time being we have a set of rabbit ears that we move from television to television. It surprises me the differing results we have on the various televisions with it. Odd indeed.
Credit. How is it that I can be approved for a $25,000+ loan for a vehicle but I still have to put a deposit down for electric service. I'm afraid I simply don't understand that.
Other people's kids. We have a kid in the neighborhood who is just a couple years older than our oldest. Mentally they seem to be about the same and physically there's little difference so it's a good pairing. The wife somewhat loathes the new friend. I don't really mind him. He seems ok but she spends quite a bit more time with him than I do. Also, when I don't want him doing something I am quite direct about it. She has her more around the bush sort of way to attack problems and I don't think new kid understands her biting sarcasm yet. Give them time, I say, and they'll be the best of buddies.
Hopefully I will have you back, my precious time. You will be mine -- oh yes, you will be mine.
Time has been one thing I have not had much of lately. New job, new living quarters, new utility bills (have you seen the price of cable these days?) and all of that jazz.
Pardon me if this seems to be a mental adolescent ejaculation of various topics. Maybe I'll sort it out later but I doubt it.
Cable is expensive. The local company is wanting ~ $60 per month for nothing special. Just cable. No pay channels or anything. Yeah, well DirecTV will hook me up pretty sweet for that kind of jenga. I told the wife we'd go with that but I haven't had time to really hash it out yet so for the time being we have a set of rabbit ears that we move from television to television. It surprises me the differing results we have on the various televisions with it. Odd indeed.
Credit. How is it that I can be approved for a $25,000+ loan for a vehicle but I still have to put a deposit down for electric service. I'm afraid I simply don't understand that.
Other people's kids. We have a kid in the neighborhood who is just a couple years older than our oldest. Mentally they seem to be about the same and physically there's little difference so it's a good pairing. The wife somewhat loathes the new friend. I don't really mind him. He seems ok but she spends quite a bit more time with him than I do. Also, when I don't want him doing something I am quite direct about it. She has her more around the bush sort of way to attack problems and I don't think new kid understands her biting sarcasm yet. Give them time, I say, and they'll be the best of buddies.
Hopefully I will have you back, my precious time. You will be mine -- oh yes, you will be mine.
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Order up!
We'll add this to things I don't understand. At a certain McRestaurant I like to order a certain McBreakfast McSandwich. We'll call this McSandwich the Sausage McMuffin with Egg, since that is the name it is given on the menu and it is the same name that is on their nutrition fact sheet. It is not the name it is commonly known by.
I have travelled to many states and ordered this same McSandwich time and time again. I'm pretty sure there is not a state I have been in that the order taker has not become confused by my calling it by its proper name. The reason being is there is one ingredient (Other than lard) that is not in the name of the sandwich. Cheese. The sandwich is a simple English muffin (covered in lard), a sausage patty (pre soaked in lard), an egg patty (cooked in lard), and a slice of american "cheese." Yes, I know it is just congealed lard, but "American cheese" is the accepted term for that item. Since the name of the McSandwich does not include the term "cheese", many people assume you don't want the cheese when you order it properly. I can't count the number of times I have said into a craptastic microphone/speaker "No, I just want the sandwich from the #2 meal but not the meal."
Therefore I have come to the following conclusion:
It matters not what the proper name of something is, one must use the vernacular of the participants in order to obtain the proper results.
In related news, if you want one of these, it is best to say "Sausage egg and cheese McMuffin." I still prefer, and will continue to say "Sausage McMuffin with egg sandwich" because that is the proper name of it. Sometimes I'll get cheese, sometimes I won't. As a side note, when you don't get cheese it doesn't change the price (unlike in their hamburger/cheeseburger world.) No, I don't take them back when they don't have cheese on them. I prefer to have my food spittle free.
I have travelled to many states and ordered this same McSandwich time and time again. I'm pretty sure there is not a state I have been in that the order taker has not become confused by my calling it by its proper name. The reason being is there is one ingredient (Other than lard) that is not in the name of the sandwich. Cheese. The sandwich is a simple English muffin (covered in lard), a sausage patty (pre soaked in lard), an egg patty (cooked in lard), and a slice of american "cheese." Yes, I know it is just congealed lard, but "American cheese" is the accepted term for that item. Since the name of the McSandwich does not include the term "cheese", many people assume you don't want the cheese when you order it properly. I can't count the number of times I have said into a craptastic microphone/speaker "No, I just want the sandwich from the #2 meal but not the meal."
Therefore I have come to the following conclusion:
It matters not what the proper name of something is, one must use the vernacular of the participants in order to obtain the proper results.
In related news, if you want one of these, it is best to say "Sausage egg and cheese McMuffin." I still prefer, and will continue to say "Sausage McMuffin with egg sandwich" because that is the proper name of it. Sometimes I'll get cheese, sometimes I won't. As a side note, when you don't get cheese it doesn't change the price (unlike in their hamburger/cheeseburger world.) No, I don't take them back when they don't have cheese on them. I prefer to have my food spittle free.
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
There were rats Dad. -- Indiana Jones
I am what most would consider a mouse potato. I don't watch much tv but I do spend a lot of time in front of a computer. The family heckles me about this from time to time but they never seem to be in the heckling mood when they need something done by me for their computers. Funny how it works that way.
I've only ever had one good mouse. It was a microsoft intellimouse 2.0. Its shape fit my hand perfectly. It was heavy and had a nice ball. It lasted until the cows came home and then stuck around until the chickens crowed. But I decided it was time to update to the laser jobbie so I wouldn't have to clean the mouse ball every Monday whether it needed it or not (and it always did need it.)
I figured since I loved my Microsoft intellimouse so much and since it was built like a tank I would purchase another Microsoft mouse and all would be good. The one I chose was called, I think, the Microsoft Blue. Because it is blue. After a couple of years of using this mouse I have two things to report.
I've only ever had one good mouse. It was a microsoft intellimouse 2.0. Its shape fit my hand perfectly. It was heavy and had a nice ball. It lasted until the cows came home and then stuck around until the chickens crowed. But I decided it was time to update to the laser jobbie so I wouldn't have to clean the mouse ball every Monday whether it needed it or not (and it always did need it.)
I figured since I loved my Microsoft intellimouse so much and since it was built like a tank I would purchase another Microsoft mouse and all would be good. The one I chose was called, I think, the Microsoft Blue. Because it is blue. After a couple of years of using this mouse I have two things to report.
- It is a microsoft mouse.
- It is not a tank.
Friday, June 30, 2006
Shut Up
Have I explained the concept of "shut down?" I think I might have touched on it but here's a recap.
In our business (pulp and paper construction) we typically work on or modify machinery that is either running or is isolated and the rest of the process continues to run. It is very rare that an entire paper mill is shut down. When it is shut down everybody switches to 24 hour manpower and everything is planned to the most minute detail on how things are supposed to work to get along the critical path to get it back up and running again. Costs are not spared during this time because there are few costs that can compare to the losses a paper mill incurrs while it is not running. You wouldn't think paper would be that valuable but it would seem that it is. After everything is completed on the construction side the commissioning process begins. This entails checking each piece of equipment individually and then as a whole to ensure everything is running properly. Shut down is this whole process.
We have been in shut down mode since the 6th of June. Commissioning was scheduled to begin on the 18th of June. We were supposed to be out of here on the 22nd of June. Hi, it is June 30th and finally, as of last night, we are once again making paper. Yes, we are late. I'm sure it was costly. Luckily it had nothing to do with me or my company. There are going to be some meetings today. Most call them "Come to Jesus" meetings. It is where the finger is pointed and the blame is set. In all my years in this business I have never seen more setbacks in a shutdown. I won't list them all but the number one problem seems to have been manpower. From the top down. There's been much speculation about all of this and my thoughts are this:
Shit might roll downhill but when it starts to leak it leaks from the bottom.
Now we are ready for a vacation.
In related news, should the end of a "shut down" be called a "shut up"?
In our business (pulp and paper construction) we typically work on or modify machinery that is either running or is isolated and the rest of the process continues to run. It is very rare that an entire paper mill is shut down. When it is shut down everybody switches to 24 hour manpower and everything is planned to the most minute detail on how things are supposed to work to get along the critical path to get it back up and running again. Costs are not spared during this time because there are few costs that can compare to the losses a paper mill incurrs while it is not running. You wouldn't think paper would be that valuable but it would seem that it is. After everything is completed on the construction side the commissioning process begins. This entails checking each piece of equipment individually and then as a whole to ensure everything is running properly. Shut down is this whole process.
We have been in shut down mode since the 6th of June. Commissioning was scheduled to begin on the 18th of June. We were supposed to be out of here on the 22nd of June. Hi, it is June 30th and finally, as of last night, we are once again making paper. Yes, we are late. I'm sure it was costly. Luckily it had nothing to do with me or my company. There are going to be some meetings today. Most call them "Come to Jesus" meetings. It is where the finger is pointed and the blame is set. In all my years in this business I have never seen more setbacks in a shutdown. I won't list them all but the number one problem seems to have been manpower. From the top down. There's been much speculation about all of this and my thoughts are this:
Shit might roll downhill but when it starts to leak it leaks from the bottom.
Now we are ready for a vacation.
In related news, should the end of a "shut down" be called a "shut up"?
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Maroons
Some of the maroons I work with:
Another office manager and I were talking about the west side of the building.
The safety guy is working up his total man hours for the month.
Another office manager and I were talking about the west side of the building.
shakes headHer: Which side is the west side?
Me: You know where the sun sets?
Her: no.
Me: Are you serious?
Her: I'm not good at geography.
The safety guy is working up his total man hours for the month.
shakes headHim: I need a calculator.
Me: Use mine ( standard desk printing calculator.)
Him: No, that's too big.
Me: It isn't big at all.
Him: It's too complex for what I need.
Me: What do you need?
Him: I'm totalling my man hours and need a small calculator.
Me: Aren't you doing it in excel?
Him: Yeah.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Archway, you are a friend indeed
Not only did I live through the vacation I managed to have a good time. This was no small feat considering we spent approximately 40 hours in a vehicle during the 4 day trip. Most of these hours included a 6 year old and a 1 year old.
I realized that there was no Springer episode to report. I know you are all disheveled by this news. I aplogize. I'd make one up for you all but I'm trying to stick to a nonfiction type blog and leave the fiction ones for those that like to change users' cursors. I promise not to change the cursor when you visit my blog.
The wife and I did some accidental mudding. We were out looking for the graveyard of the moment, following our trusty county highway road map, when the "road" narrowed considerably. It started out as gravel, moved to dirt, and after it narrowed it turned into rock and then mud. As you can see, we came to an impasse. Yes, we did get stuck. No, we didn't need a tow truck. Yes, the wife was the driver when it became unstuck. Yes, it was more fun than I can describe in any amount of words and I think she agrees. Yes, there was a cemetery somewhere behind me in this photo. No, we did not make it there. I think it will still be there when we make it up next and the weather isn't being so... wet.
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
aaaaand they're off! Well, almost
Tomorrow begins with a bang of sorts. After working about 100 hours each for the last 2 weeks we set off for a bit of a vacation. We're going to start by driving about 13 hours (700 miles) to end up in northern West Virginia. I doubt I'll be blogging much from up there because I've yet to see an outhouse with wireless (or for that matter, even wired) internet access.
I plan on taking lots of pictures which I don't plan on sharing here. It isn't that I don't love my faithful readers it's just that I understand our tastes may vary. One of the highlights of my upcoming trip is to visit 11 different cemeteries and I doubt you want pictures of tombstones or a textual rundown of the excitement such things would evoke in me.
Another highlight of my trip will be to attend a family reunion with my father's family. I'm not what you'd call close to my father's family. The last time I saw anyone from my father's family other than my father was 25 years ago. The last time I saw my dad was 3 or 4 years ago. The point being... do I intend to find them odd enough to blog about? I'd bet the farm on it:
I plan on taking lots of pictures which I don't plan on sharing here. It isn't that I don't love my faithful readers it's just that I understand our tastes may vary. One of the highlights of my upcoming trip is to visit 11 different cemeteries and I doubt you want pictures of tombstones or a textual rundown of the excitement such things would evoke in me.
Another highlight of my trip will be to attend a family reunion with my father's family. I'm not what you'd call close to my father's family. The last time I saw anyone from my father's family other than my father was 25 years ago. The last time I saw my dad was 3 or 4 years ago. The point being... do I intend to find them odd enough to blog about? I'd bet the farm on it:
- Dad finally got indoor plumbing (quit using the outhouse) in 1980. I'm hoping they converted every outhouse into a cellular phone tower. I suspect this will not be the case.
- The nearest motel to my dad's is an hour away. Rural isn't a concept around there, it's a way of life.
- every road has "knob" or "creek" in its name. Some have both. I wonder how well the GPS will work around there.
- I have a cousin who is the real estate agent for the area. Not A real estate agent, THE real estate agent.
Saturday, June 17, 2006
A picture is worth 2,328 words
I'm at the age where I can reminisce about things most bloggers weren't even alive to experience. I remember the bicentennial celebration in my home town (1976 for those that can't do math.) There were covered wagons and people dressed up like they did on Little House on the Prarie. I remember everything was red white and blue, even my birthday cake that year. It was a flag and fantastically decorated by my patriotic mother. I loved that cake. It was the last cake I really remember loving. I guess it spoiled me because I no longer like cake. Well, unless it is uncooked. Then I like it but I think they call that batter / ecoli.The picture you see there in the upper right is me (on the left) in the fall of 1989. This came up because some friends of mine and I were talking about the BMI (how fat ya are) and how I think it is hosed. In that picture I am 175 pounds and 72 inches tall. I wasn't only slim, I was dangerously so. Shortly thereafter I ended up in the hospital for dehydration and malnutrition. Ok, maybe the malnutrition was more the McDonald's food and beer and the dehydration was.. well, McDonald's food and beer. Anyway, I was 1.3% fat away from being "overweight" in that picture. No sir, I was not overweight by any means. I was fit and trim and even though my hair was goofy and for some reason I was wearing a cutoff shirt it was the best summer of my life.
Let me tell you, oh my beloved readers, about the mirth that summer has in my memories.
Backstory: After high school I moved to the nearest little city after getting a job in a factory that made and duplicated cassette tapes. (I knew about Melissa Etheridge long before she hit the shelves and I love her music to this day.) I obtained a little apartment near work for a pittance. There was a bedroom/living room and a bathroom. There was no kitchen or any kitchen type facilities. McDonald's was directly in between work and home so I ate almost all of my meals from there. I know, some guy made a movie and he got fat or whatever. This has nothing to do with that. I didn't get fat. I also didn't get healthy but I'm over that part of the story so if you are reading solely for that, start reading from the top again and maybe you'll get your fill on the second helping.
Back to the Backstory. The bedroom was perhaps 10' x 10' and the bathroom was maybe 8
x 8'. We had a tv, a NES, and a cd player. Oh, and a bed. Yes folks, we had a bed. Singular. That will come into play later. There were 2 windows that opened up on to the top of bay windows for the apartment downstairs. You could get out there and stand but there really wasn't enough room to turn around. You could, however, crawl over on to the main roof of the house if you wanted. When school let out my cousin (the one on the right in the picture above) decided it would be fun to move in with me and work in that little city for the summer. His dad said he could do it since I was always the good kid and whatever the stipulations were. Anyway he got the ok and moved in. My cousin has always been a bit more outgoing than I was and soon after school let out and he arrived the good times began.
This was to be the summer of sin and near death experiences and we were but 19 and 17 (almost 18.) We had no idea.
It started off tamely enough, we met some locals and my cousin invited them to the apartment. Eventually we became a very large group of friends, sometimes numbering in the teens, doing whatever it was we were doing at the time. Maybe we got in with the wrong crowd or maybe it was just the right crowd for us. We were adventurous people, always have been. Our tales are varied and I can't ever figure out the timeline quite right but I'll give a few incriminating snippets from those I remember.
We both worked evenings and therefore almost all of our adventures happened after midnight. Our friends were night owls anyway and none of them seemed to suffer the wrath of parental supervision but almost all of them did live at home so our place was the place to be since we were the only ones with a non-parental atmosphere.
One of the first outings I recall was going to the stone quarry late at night. I don't recall how we got there. I think we must have walked. None of us had a car during this summer and in retrospect this is a good thing. When we got to the quarry we stripped down to our skivvies (males and females) and proceeded to "swim" in the silt (or whatever you would call the very very fine mud they had there.) It was mud so smooth you could have put it in a bottle and sold it at a spa. There were several pools of it and after everyone was sufficiently mudded up we trekked down to the river for a cleansing dip and moved on. Could have died on that one. That mud is quite like quicksand. But our skin was never smoother.
After some time we realized we didn't really like walking from one side of town to the other. One of our only hangouts was the Perkins restaurant on the other side of town. It was almost the only thing that was open while we were busy harassing the wildlife and looking for trouble. We decided that since the train passed through on regular intervals, was sufficiently near our apartment, and went relatively near to the perkins in question it was the obvious choice in mode of transportation. The train carried logs mostly and the logs were strapped on with large versions of ratchet straps. We decided the best way to get on was to get a running start along side the train, grab a strap and hold on as tightly as possible. Odd as it may sound, this actually worked. We were able to cut off quite a bit of time using this method. Unfortunately there never seemed to be a train for the return trip. Since we had getting on the train under our belt the next hurdle was to get off the train without dying. We didn't have quite such a scientific method for this one. It was just jump and roll or jump and try to stay upright. Many a bandaids were used as a result of derailing from the train. Regardless we continued to use this method for lack of any better transportation. Too many ways we could have died to even count.
Unsurprisingly, most of these efforts were done under the influence of alcohol or drugs. Sometimes both. We weren't the choosy sort, we took what we could get. At one point a new waitress appeared in the world of perkins and her name badge said, "Trudy." Her name is not being changed to protect the innocent because a) her name wasn't Trudy, they required them to pick a name other than their own for 3rd shift due to weirdos and stuff and b) she wasn't as innocent as one might think a 3rd shift server at a small town perkins would be. I was typically intoxicated enough that the word "Trudy" was too much for my inebriation to allow so she was henceforth named "Tree" which stuck with all of our friends. Tree was to become the first of many.
Tree liked our group and started hanging out with us when she wasn't scheduled to work. One evening we decided to head down to the river for a little swim. We trekked over and being that we wanted relatively dry clothes to walk home in everyone got nekkid and hopped in. The guise of darkness kept all the perky bits hidden except for when someone would do the swing off the rope that was hanging from the tree at the end of the little islet where we had stationed ourselves. Anyway Tree made it clear that night that I would be hers, yes I would be hers. Being of sound mind and body I concurred that I would be hers yes I would be hers. I'm not sure if it went down that night or some other but somewhere in there I was hers for the night. While I'm supremely happy I didn't get rooted into that situation long term, it could have been a very sticky situation.
Another water story, and somewhere I have a picture of this one as well, said cousin and I decided to jump off one of the railroad trestles into the river. With my sharp math skills and some timing we decided there was approximately 27 feet between the trestle and the water. Two weeks later a kid died doing the exact same thing. His feet got hung up in something on the bottom of the river (because you couldn't help but hit bottom) and he never came back up. We never did that again for obvious reasons.
A lot of times, and this means almost nightly, we'd do our nightly adventure and then head back to the apartment. We'd have however many people were still left and we'd be a bit tired. Did I mention we only had one bed? I slept with more people that summer than I have my entire life. And by "slept with" I mean, like fall asleep and they fall asleep too. I recall waking up one time to find 6 people in bed, me being one of them. Luckily, we all knew what was allowed and what wasn't and we didn't have that one person in the crowd that felt grab-ass was a good way to pass the time. I'm not saying there wasn't any of that going on but both parties were expressly or otherwise consentual and we never had a problem with that.
One consentual person was "Colleen." Again, name not changed because she was so far from innocent it would have made a vegas whore blush. Her consent was always given to whomever asked or didn't ask. She knew it and everyone else did as well. If Colleen was known to be there and you didn't see her it meant her and whoever else was missing was out on the roof of the building doing what she did best. If the bed was moving and there were several people already there you could bet Colleen was involved in some way, shape or form. Call us pervs or young and dumb or whatever but there was quite a bit of that going on. Maybe we were all just a bit too comfortable with each other or whatever but it's just the way it was. At some point during the summer her family was moving away so we came up with a little going away song for her:
Bang Bang ColleenI think she liked it.
Colleen bangs all day
Who we gonna bang on
When colleen goes away.
Another bed story. So we're sleeping away, mid morning or possibly early afternoon, it was too early to tell. There was the cousin, his girlfriend, and me. there might have been more but I don't recall. There was a banging at the door which usually indicated the arrival of the police but this time we weren't to be quite so lucky. The girlfriend was wearing these odd pants that tied up the sides in these metal rings. She had the pants on so that was good. The pants were not tied and that was bad. I don't know if cousin had clothes on or not. Me, thinking it was the cops coming to harass us about the various shortcomings of the previous evening or where and when to put our trash, threw the door open. I don't know if I had clothes on or not. I certainly had on underwear at the least but I doubt much more than that. My eyes grew quizzical at the odd set of people outside my door. From behind me I heard, "Oh, hi grandma, I'll be right there." heh. The cousin still has nightmares about that one. While I was in bed with grandbaby I wasn't in with the consent and didn't partake of the fruit so I found it to be little more than pretty damned funny.
Ahh, reminiscing. If I had to relive one summer for the rest of my life it would be that one. It was filled with Danger, lust, humor, friendship, and all the other things they stick into movies. There were police incidents, other women, missing pillows, interesting ways to obtain alcohol, my only spandex story, vomit stories, drug induced problems, quarks of the human anatomy and the chain I'm wearing around my neck in the picture stories, and yet not a single arrest, std, or serious injury story within our circle of friends. We tempted fate as often as possible and somehow came through unscathed. I can't recount all the stories here but I'll always think of them when I see a picture from that era.
I think if I had it to do over again I wouldn't have worn the cut off shirt. That is all.
Friday, June 16, 2006
Bloggers are an odd bunch
I spend a considerable amount of time reading blogs and sometimes it is nice to see the face behind the words. When the mood strikes I will click on their profile and see the picture. My eyes aren't as young as they once were so sometimes I'll click the link that says "View full size."
I'm here to tell you that not a single blogger I have viewed full size as of yet is over 4 inches tall. Does Barnum & Bailey know about this potential stash of freakshows?
I'm here to tell you that not a single blogger I have viewed full size as of yet is over 4 inches tall. Does Barnum & Bailey know about this potential stash of freakshows?
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Naming convention
Dear readers:
I apologize. I have led you astray. I shall come up with a suitable punishment for myself (unless you feel you have a good one in mind) and I will amend my evil ways.
This blog has nothing to do with three word slogans.
...there, I've said it.
I know, I know, you thought I was going to start spouting new Three Word Slogans for your use in the marketing meetings but alas I have let my readership down.
Oddly enough, and I do mean oddly, I get a lot of search engine hits for people actually looking for advertising slogans. Here's what I picture:
[random background music, 2 guys sitting in a basement/bedroom/apartment]
1: Dude, killer J Dude.
2: Yeah, primo shit. It's hydro dude.
1: I have the munchies dude.
2: Yeah, me too. Let's Just Do it!
1: heh heh, yeah, just do it.
2: heh heh
1: [thinking] Wait a minute dude, "Just do it" is for women's douches or something.
2: Nuh uh dude, it's the McDonald's slogan
1: Oh. Yeah, that's right.
mmm hmmm, and that's how I see it in my mind's eye. I don't see it that way in the eyes in my head because they like see reality and stuff. Either way, I'm lovin' it.
I apologize. I have led you astray. I shall come up with a suitable punishment for myself (unless you feel you have a good one in mind) and I will amend my evil ways.
This blog has nothing to do with three word slogans.
...there, I've said it.
I know, I know, you thought I was going to start spouting new Three Word Slogans for your use in the marketing meetings but alas I have let my readership down.
Oddly enough, and I do mean oddly, I get a lot of search engine hits for people actually looking for advertising slogans. Here's what I picture:
[random background music, 2 guys sitting in a basement/bedroom/apartment]
1: Dude, killer J Dude.
2: Yeah, primo shit. It's hydro dude.
1: I have the munchies dude.
2: Yeah, me too. Let's Just Do it!
1: heh heh, yeah, just do it.
2: heh heh
1: [thinking] Wait a minute dude, "Just do it" is for women's douches or something.
2: Nuh uh dude, it's the McDonald's slogan
1: Oh. Yeah, that's right.
mmm hmmm, and that's how I see it in my mind's eye. I don't see it that way in the eyes in my head because they like see reality and stuff. Either way, I'm lovin' it.
Saturday, June 10, 2006
Things I don't understand
There are a lot of things I cannot comprehend. Maybe if I list them here for you, my devoted readers, you can explain some of them to me or something.
- Prescription drugs. I understand things like pain meds but why are some drugs by prescription only? For example, If I can get more canoeing and horseback riding done if I take that herpes medicine, why can't I go get some myself?
- Our current pro-racist environment. It wasn't ok when it was the whites against the blacks but it's ok when it is everyone versus the hispanics.
- Wars. What in the world are we fighting for?
- Accountability. Have you noticed the lack of response during the Katrina hurricane is being pinned on one man? Well where was his boss? And his boss? It's the government, it goes right up a chain of command until it terminates with the president.
- Boxing, participants and fans. WTF people, why are you either beating somebody up, watching somebody beat somebody else up, or getting beat up? Where's the fun in that?
- People that try to get out of work, as in missing days of work for their employer. If you don't like the job get another one. If you only want to work 3 days a week check out fast food,retail, realty, you name it.
- People that speak their own breed of English. Dear Ms. McDonald's money taker lady, it isn't "Fo Fitty tree" it is Four Fifty Three, please speak so I can understand what you are saying. Also, cent is singular and cents is plural. My change is never "One Cents."
- Big Bass. If you are the type of person that likes to have earth moving sound in your car remember that the guy next to you at the red light might be trying to listen to NPR or something.
- Houseflies. I can't think of any possible reason for them to be on this earth.
- 5 AM downtown Savannah. Is Bay street really a NASCAR circuit that I don't know about?
- Road work. Why would you close 2 of the 4 lanes of a bridge for repairs and then nobody ever does anything to it? The only thing this does is increase wait time and wastes hundreds of thousands of man hours. Get your contractor out there and get the job done.
- Basketball. Too much sprinting.
- Horoscopes. Yeah, well, I'm guessing there's more than 12 categories of people, but your horoscope might tell you otherwise so believe what you want.
- DUI laws. You know in some states they can arrest you for DUI even if the car isn't running? If you have the keys in the ignition to run the radio in your driveway and you've had too many to drink, BAM! you're a baby killer and you're going to jail.
- Howard Stern. Dude, the act is old. Give up on it, move on. I don't get it, who is still listening to this drivel.
- American television viewers. Get off the Survivor crack pipe. I don't understand what the fasicnation is with watching other people in a fake reality.
- Nascar. They are not STOCK cars. "N"orth "A"merican "S"tock "C"ar "A"uto "R"acing. "Stock" car racing, if that is what you are interested in, is actually part of the SCCA. Also, while we're on the subject... Why is it "C"ar "A"uto? Isn't that redundant? In the same vein, could the nascar truck races be deemed illegal since they are obviously very very clear that not only does it have to be an auto (automobile) but it also has to be a car, which trucks obviously are not. There is nothing about nascar that makes sense to me.
- People that would still work if they won the lottery. I'd work. I'd work on my buzz wherever I was, my tan when I was in the sun, and my blog. But to do a daily grind? Nah, I don't think so.
- Metal is bad for microwaves. Chef Boyardee microwave bowls contain metal. Yet nothing explodes other than my stomach and colon. Now how is that possible?
- Myself. Sometimes I just don't understand me. I don't think there's any helping that but I thought I'd throw it out there.
Friday, June 09, 2006
Speed Beef
True story. Grab a cigar and a cognac and I'll tell you what yankee hillbillies are like.
My grandmother was thrifty to say the least. She also worked several jobs and was always on the run. During this time we lived in Northern PA within the boundaries of the Allegheny national forest. Yes folks, we had deer. Lots of em. If you WANTED a deer you could get one any time day or night. If you DIDN'T want deer you could get one any time day or night.
One night grandma got home from one of her jobs and she let us know that she had a deer in the car. She explained that she had hit it and decided to keep it. (Grandma drove a ford escort by the way.. no, not a wagon.) Well it kind of dawned on me that the car most likely only knocked the deer out. Let me take a journey into that story before we jump back in line with this one.
As time went on it seemed that this happened on a more and more regular basis. She would get her car fixed and then when she maybe hit one on accident she'd kind of go on a spree and she'd be bringing home one a week until she would get her car fixed and then there'd be a gap between killings... err, I mean accidents.
We came to calling this "Speed Beef." We still do, all of us grandchildren.
Do I need to mention I have eaten a lot of "venison"?
My grandmother was thrifty to say the least. She also worked several jobs and was always on the run. During this time we lived in Northern PA within the boundaries of the Allegheny national forest. Yes folks, we had deer. Lots of em. If you WANTED a deer you could get one any time day or night. If you DIDN'T want deer you could get one any time day or night.
One night grandma got home from one of her jobs and she let us know that she had a deer in the car. She explained that she had hit it and decided to keep it. (Grandma drove a ford escort by the way.. no, not a wagon.) Well it kind of dawned on me that the car most likely only knocked the deer out. Let me take a journey into that story before we jump back in line with this one.
Let's just say there was a deer. And let's say that somebody's parents thought this deer was dead. I mean, you know, just for supposition's sake. Weeeellll, while having said deer in the trunk of the car, driving down the main street of the town we lived near, the deer decided it wasn't dead anymore and began attempting to extricate himself from the vehicle. Did I mention it wasn't deer season? Anyway, the deer kicked out both tail lights and the parents made it out of town without attracting the notice of the game warden or the police but had to do some repairs on the car and here's my question... How would YOU open the trunk of that car?Anyway so I'm wondering how she knew this thing was dead. She had bludgeoned it with the tire iron, a 4 way jobber. Yup, that's my grandmother. She kept it and had it butchered and whatnot. She seemed to have a 'butcher on the sly' but I don't know who he was or where he was. I'm sure it was better this way.
As time went on it seemed that this happened on a more and more regular basis. She would get her car fixed and then when she maybe hit one on accident she'd kind of go on a spree and she'd be bringing home one a week until she would get her car fixed and then there'd be a gap between killings... err, I mean accidents.
We came to calling this "Speed Beef." We still do, all of us grandchildren.
Do I need to mention I have eaten a lot of "venison"?
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Time to make the doughnuts. Or is it donuts?
Rewind back to last Wednesday, a week from today.
I called Krispy Kreme (the company with the great spelling and employees that match their mantra) to order a few doughnuts. I needed 800 doughnuts. Yes folks, 800. I figured I'd better call in advance and let them know. The person that answered the phone asked me to hold for a manager once she was sure I wasn't kidding around and I spoke with the manager of the day whomever that was. He assured me I would be able to pick up the doughnuts on Tuesday morning at 6 AM sharp. I accepted his offer of goods and services and the deal was made.
I showed up at Krispy Kreme at 5:15 AM to find they don't even open their doors until 6. I'm not in Podunk here, this is a city of 100,000+ with a county (which is basically the city plus suburbs) of 200,000+. Would it not make sense for a doughnut shop to open early? In their defense they were open until 11 PM on some nights because, you know, doughnuts are now a great after supper treat. Yeah, that's it.
All tangents aside, I backed into the parking spot in front of the door, opened up the back of the jeep and sat there and stared into the front window for 45 minutes while the employees went on with their business of "Time to make the doughnuts" (which I know is the competitor's slogan ... the BETTER competitor I might add) Oh wait, this was all tangents aside. Well there goes that theory.
Anyway they knew I was there. I was obviously going to be packing a jeep full of doughnuts since they could see me with no back seat (remember I was backed in and the back was completely open) and everything prepared to stuff a lot of doughnuts in there. Nobody came out to question me so I assumed they knew I was the guy picking up a metric assload of doughnuts. (A metric assload is exactly the same as an Imperial assload only you move the decimal to the right 4 times and then move the decimal one time to the left.)
The doors opened promptly at 6 as promised and I was the first to the counter. I told them who I was and what I wanted. The counter person went into the doughnut factory part that was behind the magic glass wall and looked at the rolling carts of doughnuts. After a few minutes she came back and asked what company it was for and my name again. Giving her the information I began to have a sinking feeling. A minute or two later she arrived without any doughnuts and simply said, "The manager will be right out."
To which I responded, "I don't have any doughnuts, do I?"
She mumbled something.
I had 400 people expecting doughnuts and that this point in the game I was hosed. No doughnut factory in town could help me and I knew it. While I was extremely upset I also realized that no matter what I said or did I would not walk out of there with any doughnuts. The manager of the day came to speak with me and informed me that it seemed nobody had written down the order. She advised me to call later and speak with the General Manager of the day and perhaps she would give me a price break.
In a self indulgent moment I blurted, "I don't want a price break, I want someone to come explain to 400 people why they don't have doughnuts." I shouldn't have said this. The counter person didn't have anything to do with the mess up and neither did the manager of the morning.
Upon my arrival to work I had quite a few people to deal with, explaining the situation and apologizing for having them come in early to help pass out what wasn't there, and I ended up getting more and more infuriated about the mess up. I decided to wait until later in the day to call back and speak with the General Manager of the day because I did not want to take out my ire on anyone in particular.
I finally calmed down and made the call. I explained the situation and the woman was not exactly "cold" towards me but it was very close. I was trying to maintain professionalism so I simply said something to the effect of, "I will be buying about 800 doughnuts tomorrow. Will I be buying them from your business or do I need to look for other alternatives?" She warmed right up to me and actually had them ready and waiting when I got there.
In other news, it is my thought that I could easily fit about 2,500 to 3,000 doughnuts in a 2006 Jeep Wrangler Unlimited that has the rear seat removed. This picture shows 804 doughnuts somewhat neatly stacked and I think I could have easily tripled the size of the stacks plus put more on the wheel wells and in the passenger seat.
Sorry the picture is so dark, it was like early and stuff. And my camera isn't all pro or anything. But at least I gots me some dougnuts.
Now how ironic is it that I don't eat doughnuts?
The yellow thing on the right is an extension cord (120v) because I have a manly jeep with 120V AC power in it. And 4 Wheel drive! And a miniature jeep on the dash! With Robin driving! Oh yeah, And a metric assload of doughnuts!
I called Krispy Kreme (the company with the great spelling and employees that match their mantra) to order a few doughnuts. I needed 800 doughnuts. Yes folks, 800. I figured I'd better call in advance and let them know. The person that answered the phone asked me to hold for a manager once she was sure I wasn't kidding around and I spoke with the manager of the day whomever that was. He assured me I would be able to pick up the doughnuts on Tuesday morning at 6 AM sharp. I accepted his offer of goods and services and the deal was made.
I showed up at Krispy Kreme at 5:15 AM to find they don't even open their doors until 6. I'm not in Podunk here, this is a city of 100,000+ with a county (which is basically the city plus suburbs) of 200,000+. Would it not make sense for a doughnut shop to open early? In their defense they were open until 11 PM on some nights because, you know, doughnuts are now a great after supper treat. Yeah, that's it.
All tangents aside, I backed into the parking spot in front of the door, opened up the back of the jeep and sat there and stared into the front window for 45 minutes while the employees went on with their business of "Time to make the doughnuts" (which I know is the competitor's slogan ... the BETTER competitor I might add) Oh wait, this was all tangents aside. Well there goes that theory.
Anyway they knew I was there. I was obviously going to be packing a jeep full of doughnuts since they could see me with no back seat (remember I was backed in and the back was completely open) and everything prepared to stuff a lot of doughnuts in there. Nobody came out to question me so I assumed they knew I was the guy picking up a metric assload of doughnuts. (A metric assload is exactly the same as an Imperial assload only you move the decimal to the right 4 times and then move the decimal one time to the left.)
The doors opened promptly at 6 as promised and I was the first to the counter. I told them who I was and what I wanted. The counter person went into the doughnut factory part that was behind the magic glass wall and looked at the rolling carts of doughnuts. After a few minutes she came back and asked what company it was for and my name again. Giving her the information I began to have a sinking feeling. A minute or two later she arrived without any doughnuts and simply said, "The manager will be right out."
To which I responded, "I don't have any doughnuts, do I?"
She mumbled something.
I had 400 people expecting doughnuts and that this point in the game I was hosed. No doughnut factory in town could help me and I knew it. While I was extremely upset I also realized that no matter what I said or did I would not walk out of there with any doughnuts. The manager of the day came to speak with me and informed me that it seemed nobody had written down the order. She advised me to call later and speak with the General Manager of the day and perhaps she would give me a price break.
In a self indulgent moment I blurted, "I don't want a price break, I want someone to come explain to 400 people why they don't have doughnuts." I shouldn't have said this. The counter person didn't have anything to do with the mess up and neither did the manager of the morning.
Upon my arrival to work I had quite a few people to deal with, explaining the situation and apologizing for having them come in early to help pass out what wasn't there, and I ended up getting more and more infuriated about the mess up. I decided to wait until later in the day to call back and speak with the General Manager of the day because I did not want to take out my ire on anyone in particular.
I finally calmed down and made the call. I explained the situation and the woman was not exactly "cold" towards me but it was very close. I was trying to maintain professionalism so I simply said something to the effect of, "I will be buying about 800 doughnuts tomorrow. Will I be buying them from your business or do I need to look for other alternatives?" She warmed right up to me and actually had them ready and waiting when I got there.
In other news, it is my thought that I could easily fit about 2,500 to 3,000 doughnuts in a 2006 Jeep Wrangler Unlimited that has the rear seat removed. This picture shows 804 doughnuts somewhat neatly stacked and I think I could have easily tripled the size of the stacks plus put more on the wheel wells and in the passenger seat.
Sorry the picture is so dark, it was like early and stuff. And my camera isn't all pro or anything. But at least I gots me some dougnuts.
Now how ironic is it that I don't eat doughnuts?
The yellow thing on the right is an extension cord (120v) because I have a manly jeep with 120V AC power in it. And 4 Wheel drive! And a miniature jeep on the dash! With Robin driving! Oh yeah, And a metric assload of doughnuts!
Sunday, May 28, 2006
The fickle finger of fate
Saturday was my big offshore fishing trip that I pulled the local card on. I knew I shouldn't have done that. When I try to be sly in any way it ends up biting me, just as it did this time.
The seas were 5-7 feet so they would not take the boat out. The irony of the situation? It turned out to be a beautiful day, was over 100° F, and yet we were all land bound. Not a boat to be rented or a charter to be had. Ah well, that should teach me to try an underhanded trick like the local card.
Since my plans were dashed I headed over to the mall and purchased a "Driving Force Pro" which is a steering wheel made by Logitech. It's main use is for the Playstation 2 game Gran Turismo 4 which has been in my regular rotation of video games for some time now. I've actually almost completed the game and kind of got bored with it so I started it over. In case you aren't familiar with the game it is a driving simulation game. You begin with 10 thousand dollars to purchase a car, race for money, pay for upgrades to various components on your cars. Eventually you have won all the races and have so much money that it is what I think winning the lottery would be like: an exercise in collecting.
The wheel adds to the realism and makes the game even more frustrating and therefore masochistically enjoyable. One of the features available on all cars is what are called driving aids. These include traction control as well as active stability management (which helps you take corners more easily.) Since I have never driven a car with either of these features I decided to turn them off. This further creates a challenge since it is now not only easy to spin cars around at high speeds it is quite common. Built into the steering wheel are all kinds of motors that turn the wheel much like a real car's steering wheel would do. If you find yourself spinning in the roadway at 100+ miles per hour, grabbing the wheel can be a harrowing experience.
...In related news, I'm a video game geek and am hiding from all the company (not really mine) at the computer / playstation 2 desk.
The seas were 5-7 feet so they would not take the boat out. The irony of the situation? It turned out to be a beautiful day, was over 100° F, and yet we were all land bound. Not a boat to be rented or a charter to be had. Ah well, that should teach me to try an underhanded trick like the local card.
Since my plans were dashed I headed over to the mall and purchased a "Driving Force Pro" which is a steering wheel made by Logitech. It's main use is for the Playstation 2 game Gran Turismo 4 which has been in my regular rotation of video games for some time now. I've actually almost completed the game and kind of got bored with it so I started it over. In case you aren't familiar with the game it is a driving simulation game. You begin with 10 thousand dollars to purchase a car, race for money, pay for upgrades to various components on your cars. Eventually you have won all the races and have so much money that it is what I think winning the lottery would be like: an exercise in collecting.
The wheel adds to the realism and makes the game even more frustrating and therefore masochistically enjoyable. One of the features available on all cars is what are called driving aids. These include traction control as well as active stability management (which helps you take corners more easily.) Since I have never driven a car with either of these features I decided to turn them off. This further creates a challenge since it is now not only easy to spin cars around at high speeds it is quite common. Built into the steering wheel are all kinds of motors that turn the wheel much like a real car's steering wheel would do. If you find yourself spinning in the roadway at 100+ miles per hour, grabbing the wheel can be a harrowing experience.
...In related news, I'm a video game geek and am hiding from all the company (not really mine) at the computer / playstation 2 desk.
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Warning labels
I'm happy to report that on this blog the browser share is 68% firefox/mozilla and only 30% Internet Explorer. I applaud my very smart open source readers. Now since I have your attention if there are any programmers out there could somebody make some sort of extension for browsing blogs. It could incorporate my ever loved Random Blog link and then have some overlay that tells important things about the blogs you land on. For example:
Warning!
Politically Charged!
Politically Charged!
Warning!
Christians abound!
Christians abound!
Warning!
This person uses 'u' for 'you' and 'dat' for 'that'!
This person uses 'u' for 'you' and 'dat' for 'that'!
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Ode to GoJo
O sweet cleaner of grime
foam bubbles so fine
clean smelling, divine.
Your price? A crime.
Gojo Luxury Foam Handsoap, Antibacterial edition is the soap of choice for me. Please do not confuse it with the Gojo Natural Orange soap as they are as different as Dog the bounty hunter and Johnny Depp. They are both dirty, but one is a clean dirt and the other is just nasty dirty. I'll leave it up to you to figure out the particulars on that one.
The cleaning power is as good as any soap designed to remove excessive grease and yet it still smells very nice. I feel it is easier to remove grease with this soap than it is with Lava or even the natural orange. There isn't any gritty feel since there is no grit in it. One pump from the dispenser is all anyone needs under normal circumstances and if perchance one would use two squirts it isn't "Luxury times two" it is "Luxury squared" which is in all accounts (except for like, you know, anything up to and including "2"), a much bigger number.
Speaking of luxury I'd like to announce that I realize this might be the wrong choice of words to get guys to buy this stuff. Lava is a manly soap. Everyone knows that Lava might even take manly over the top and be considered grizzly especially if you've ever washed your face with it. I'm pretty sure you won't find any lanolin, moisturizers, aloe, or anything else soft and nice anywhere near Lava. Lava kicks their asses and flushes them down the toilet. I once left a bar of Lava soap in my bathroom unattended overnight. I'm a heavy sleeper by nature but even I was awakend by the monstrous noises that was the bar of Lava soap trying to flush the Bath & Body Works Signature Collection Cucumber Melon creamy body wash down the commode. I broke up the altercation and forevermore decided not to leave the Lava soap out of its container.
You won't have these troubles with the GoJo Luxury edition. Oh no, it's quite content to share a spot on your sink with the likes of Henri Bendel, Davies Gate, and it seems to get along with Ivory (at least 99 44/100% of the time anyway.) Yes, you'll find the GoJo to be quite amicable to your other toiletries and I've yet had to get up in the middle of the night to break up any altercations.
The price on the GoJo Luxury Edition hand cleaner will keep all but the most elite of shade-tree mechanics from basking in its wonderous pleasures. This should be an indicator to all of you that you won't risk smelling like Bubba when you return from the washateria. Oh no, you'll be in a class of smell all your own. And really, is there anything more fine?
foam bubbles so fine
clean smelling, divine.
Your price? A crime.
Gojo Luxury Foam Handsoap, Antibacterial edition is the soap of choice for me. Please do not confuse it with the Gojo Natural Orange soap as they are as different as Dog the bounty hunter and Johnny Depp. They are both dirty, but one is a clean dirt and the other is just nasty dirty. I'll leave it up to you to figure out the particulars on that one.
The cleaning power is as good as any soap designed to remove excessive grease and yet it still smells very nice. I feel it is easier to remove grease with this soap than it is with Lava or even the natural orange. There isn't any gritty feel since there is no grit in it. One pump from the dispenser is all anyone needs under normal circumstances and if perchance one would use two squirts it isn't "Luxury times two" it is "Luxury squared" which is in all accounts (except for like, you know, anything up to and including "2"), a much bigger number.
Speaking of luxury I'd like to announce that I realize this might be the wrong choice of words to get guys to buy this stuff. Lava is a manly soap. Everyone knows that Lava might even take manly over the top and be considered grizzly especially if you've ever washed your face with it. I'm pretty sure you won't find any lanolin, moisturizers, aloe, or anything else soft and nice anywhere near Lava. Lava kicks their asses and flushes them down the toilet. I once left a bar of Lava soap in my bathroom unattended overnight. I'm a heavy sleeper by nature but even I was awakend by the monstrous noises that was the bar of Lava soap trying to flush the Bath & Body Works Signature Collection Cucumber Melon creamy body wash down the commode. I broke up the altercation and forevermore decided not to leave the Lava soap out of its container.
You won't have these troubles with the GoJo Luxury edition. Oh no, it's quite content to share a spot on your sink with the likes of Henri Bendel, Davies Gate, and it seems to get along with Ivory (at least 99 44/100% of the time anyway.) Yes, you'll find the GoJo to be quite amicable to your other toiletries and I've yet had to get up in the middle of the night to break up any altercations.
The price on the GoJo Luxury Edition hand cleaner will keep all but the most elite of shade-tree mechanics from basking in its wonderous pleasures. This should be an indicator to all of you that you won't risk smelling like Bubba when you return from the washateria. Oh no, you'll be in a class of smell all your own. And really, is there anything more fine?
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
I hate yogurt
I hate yogurt and I have a reason.
Let's take a stroll back to my childhood. I'm old enough to remember the milk man coming and bringing us milk in quart jars that were glass and had neat seals on the top. We usually got some milk with cream on top but I recall one time we went over the top and ordered some yogurt. I don't recall what led to the decision to get the yogurt and honestly it may have come from the grocery store but since it is a dairy product and we had a milkman at the time I'm assuming it was from him.
I didn't know what the yogurt was since that wasn't a staple in my household and my mom gave it to me and told me it was like ice cream only creamy. With a description like that I was ready to eat it container and all since I like to let my ice cream melt and then eat it when it is creamy. After digging in for a couple of bites I mentioned to mom that I didn't think it was very good. I told her it tasted kind of sour.
Well telling a kid something tastes like ice cream and then it tastes like yogurt is a bit of a stretch.
She told me it was fine and to keep eating it. I ate a few more bites and really didn't like it so I left a little bit in the bottom. I gave it to her and told her she could finish it because I really didn't like it. She smelled it and I witnessed the horror face. The yogurt had soured and I was now bellied up with it.
I don't remember if I kept it down or not but I remember that I don't like yogurt. While not all first impressions last a lifetime that one did.
My son loves yogurt. He now has some new drinkable yogurt and he really really likes it. He can't get over how great it is and how "yummy yummy" it tastes. Thusly I was required to smell it. (aside: for some reason in my family smelling food is very normal. We all do it and love it.) Yes, I still detest the smell of yogurt, even when it isn't "bad"... even though it is all bad.
Let's take a stroll back to my childhood. I'm old enough to remember the milk man coming and bringing us milk in quart jars that were glass and had neat seals on the top. We usually got some milk with cream on top but I recall one time we went over the top and ordered some yogurt. I don't recall what led to the decision to get the yogurt and honestly it may have come from the grocery store but since it is a dairy product and we had a milkman at the time I'm assuming it was from him.
I didn't know what the yogurt was since that wasn't a staple in my household and my mom gave it to me and told me it was like ice cream only creamy. With a description like that I was ready to eat it container and all since I like to let my ice cream melt and then eat it when it is creamy. After digging in for a couple of bites I mentioned to mom that I didn't think it was very good. I told her it tasted kind of sour.
Well telling a kid something tastes like ice cream and then it tastes like yogurt is a bit of a stretch.
She told me it was fine and to keep eating it. I ate a few more bites and really didn't like it so I left a little bit in the bottom. I gave it to her and told her she could finish it because I really didn't like it. She smelled it and I witnessed the horror face. The yogurt had soured and I was now bellied up with it.
I don't remember if I kept it down or not but I remember that I don't like yogurt. While not all first impressions last a lifetime that one did.
My son loves yogurt. He now has some new drinkable yogurt and he really really likes it. He can't get over how great it is and how "yummy yummy" it tastes. Thusly I was required to smell it. (aside: for some reason in my family smelling food is very normal. We all do it and love it.) Yes, I still detest the smell of yogurt, even when it isn't "bad"... even though it is all bad.
Monday, May 22, 2006
I am Odin, father of Thor
I have an event to attend and I'm quite excited about it. Our yearly family reunion is coming up and I will be attending. This might not seem like a really big deal but this will be the first family reunion of my own family I have ever attended. I've been to my wife's family reunions but never one with people I should know. Sadly I do not know most of these people. It is my father's side of the family which I only know a handful of people and I haven't seen any of them for 25 years. I have seen my father more recently than that but I doubt he will be attending the family reunion. I'm hoping he breaks his mold and attends since I will be there but I'm not counting any chickens.
The bad part of the situation is the surrounding circumstances of the trip. A few weeks prior to the trip we go into "shut down" mode at work which means I'll be starting work at 6:30 in the morning and completing work at 8 pm for 17 days straight. On the last day of all of that I plan on packing the family into the Jeep and travelling north for about 15 hours to reach our destination. I might save this trek for the next morning, I haven't decided. Either way I sleep a bit and then go to the reunion. Directly after the reunion I have to pack the family back up and make the 15 hour return trip to get a bit of sleep and then back to work. When I do return to work it will be to pack up the job and then lay everyone off, including myself.
Yes, I know I could just take a flight and rent a car but price is quite prohibitive when there are 4 seats involved. I have tried to think of every possible option but it seems driving it is the best idea.
I know I'm going to come out of it tired and cranky but I'll also have memories and for my money and time there is nothing better.
disclaimer:
Solly so bloggy.
The bad part of the situation is the surrounding circumstances of the trip. A few weeks prior to the trip we go into "shut down" mode at work which means I'll be starting work at 6:30 in the morning and completing work at 8 pm for 17 days straight. On the last day of all of that I plan on packing the family into the Jeep and travelling north for about 15 hours to reach our destination. I might save this trek for the next morning, I haven't decided. Either way I sleep a bit and then go to the reunion. Directly after the reunion I have to pack the family back up and make the 15 hour return trip to get a bit of sleep and then back to work. When I do return to work it will be to pack up the job and then lay everyone off, including myself.
Yes, I know I could just take a flight and rent a car but price is quite prohibitive when there are 4 seats involved. I have tried to think of every possible option but it seems driving it is the best idea.
I know I'm going to come out of it tired and cranky but I'll also have memories and for my money and time there is nothing better.
disclaimer:
Solly so bloggy.
Thursday, May 18, 2006
Why do I do it?
I try not to consider what I do 'blogging.' I think of it more like a journal. I don't like to write with pen and paper anymore. I have to do that at work and it gives me enough practice to realize I don't like it. There area a lot of things I like about 'blogging' and the blogging community as a whole.
In case your faith in 'blogging' has waned, let me tell you why I like 'blogging' and why I like the whole 'blogging' community. Maybe it will rekindle your love or maybe I'll just look like the freak I really am.
In case your faith in 'blogging' has waned, let me tell you why I like 'blogging' and why I like the whole 'blogging' community. Maybe it will rekindle your love or maybe I'll just look like the freak I really am.
- In 20 years I'm going to smoke a fat one and read my blog. I will laugh heartily. Not just at "youth" but at the way I perceived (wrongly) the things that were going on around me.
- I learn new words every day from the 'blogging' community. My current favorite new word is "SuperFriends." It is a term to replace "Friends with benefits." I giggle a little every time I think about it. I'm far beyond the age of having SuperFriends but I soooooo wish I had thought of that term. I'd be the Rawk instead of the Suck.
- I like to live vicariously through other people. My wife hated the winters in Pennsylvania... imagine what she'd think about the winters in Alaska. If I were a single man with no marriage and no kids I'd be blogging from the big state though. Alas it would require a divorce at this point (which just isn't going to happen) so I read about the other John in Alaska.
- I use 'blogging' as a method of self exploration. When I hit the magic "Publish Post" button it doesn't end there for me. I stew on the post for a while. I mull it over and sometimes I don't agree with what I wrote afterwards but I don't and won't change it. I consider it ink (unless it is a simple typo or unclear.) I might amend what I said in the comments but I'll leave the post so I can go back in 20 years and maybe I'll be the only person that commented on the post but at least I'll be able to see my progression on whatever subject it is.
- When I'm gone from this life (and I'm at the age where I realize that is an impending appointment) others will remember me as I was... not as they candy coat it in my obituary. Let this be my autobiography in an off kilter, disjointed sort of way.
- I don't just learn fancy names for old ideas, I learn real stuff. Some people are kind enough to put links to stuff that provide the opportunity to learn about real things. I like this. Learning is power... Three word slogan.
- I like the feedback I receive. Most of the things I write about are menial at best. These are the things that cross my mind in a passing fancy. I like seeing if someone thinks I'm a dumbass for my view on something. I like it when they agree. It tells me they are alert and alive.
- There is a lot to learn from surfing the 'blog' world. One of the things I realize is that not too many layouts "work." Yeah, mine might be horrendously colored (keep in mind that I dress in pitch dark and when I get outside I'm as surprised by the outcome as the rest of the world... I just feel around for long or short sleeves as the case may warrant) but my blog displays the way I think an online display of thoughts should. Well other than the fact that I think the entries should be oldest at top to newest at bottom. I'm still working on that. I prefer to read someone else's blog from top to bottom but with the way they are set up you need to read bottom to top on each archive page to get caught up in realtime order. I think I mentioned I'm not a fan of that.
- I'm sure there's a clinical term for this one but I don't know it. I like pondering on my entry ideas to help keep out the stuff I'm trying not to think about. I'll often start my ideas on my PDA and then work them out on the computer from there. Denial? no, that's DEFINITELY not the word I'm looking for. It's CERTAINLY something different. I'm sure of it. It's not denial.
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Cancer is the answer
Cancer kind of runs in my family. My mom is battling it right now, her father just recently died from it. Her oldest brother died from it less than a year ago. Her younger sister died from it about 10 years ago. Her youngest brother most likely has it but won't go to the doctor. She has no other siblings. Of the 4 of them, 2 have already died of it, 1 is battling it now and the other is in denial.
No, my loyal readers, this is not about to become a goth fantasy of self pity and loathing of life in proportions to be marvelled at. No, we're taking this in a whole other direction. Strap in and prepare for the ride.
Yes folks, I purchased cancer insurance today. Since only one of my natural parents have had the C-bug and not "any two of your natural parents" as they stated on the application I qualify. Therefore I took out the maximum available policy on myself. Now I realize it takes a certain kind of person to get excited about insurance
The insurance I bought is the kind that pays me, not the hospital/doctor. They pay me $100 a year just to show I had a cancer screening done. No big deal. But when I get diagnosed with cancer they drop me a check for 5 grand. Any hospital time I have to do nets me a check for $400 per day. Chemotherapy is paid at $20 grand per year.
There are a million other things they pay but those are the highlights.
I look at it this way: I'll have plenty of spare cash to be paying for my "medical marijuana" and I'm thinking my house might be the party house as soon as the doctor gives "the go ahead."
As an aside, I wonder what the opposite of morbid is? Not really even the opposite so much as the absolute bastardization of the concept known as morbid. Maybe that's still morbid, I don't know. But whatever it is, that's what my theory on cancer is. Yup, gonna die from it, or at least be really sick someday. But it looks like I'll be set up. Party's at my place.
No, my loyal readers, this is not about to become a goth fantasy of self pity and loathing of life in proportions to be marvelled at. No, we're taking this in a whole other direction. Strap in and prepare for the ride.
Yes folks, I purchased cancer insurance today. Since only one of my natural parents have had the C-bug and not "any two of your natural parents" as they stated on the application I qualify. Therefore I took out the maximum available policy on myself. Now I realize it takes a certain kind of person to get excited about insurance
but stick with me here, it gets better.
Hey now, don't you tell me you don't remember me 'cause I sure as heckfire remember you.
Not a chance.
Ned... Ryerson. "Needlenose Ned"? "Ned the Head"? C'mon, buddy. Case Western High. I did the whistling belly-button trick at the high school talent show? Bing. Ned Ryerson, got the shingles real bad senior year, almost didn't graduate? Bing, again. Ned Ryerson, I dated your sister Mary Pat a couple of times until you told me not to anymore? Well?
Ned Ryerson?
BING!
Bing.
The insurance I bought is the kind that pays me, not the hospital/doctor. They pay me $100 a year just to show I had a cancer screening done. No big deal. But when I get diagnosed with cancer they drop me a check for 5 grand. Any hospital time I have to do nets me a check for $400 per day. Chemotherapy is paid at $20 grand per year.
There are a million other things they pay but those are the highlights.
I look at it this way: I'll have plenty of spare cash to be paying for my "medical marijuana" and I'm thinking my house might be the party house as soon as the doctor gives "the go ahead."
As an aside, I wonder what the opposite of morbid is? Not really even the opposite so much as the absolute bastardization of the concept known as morbid. Maybe that's still morbid, I don't know. But whatever it is, that's what my theory on cancer is. Yup, gonna die from it, or at least be really sick someday. But it looks like I'll be set up. Party's at my place.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Trifecta minus one equals bifecta OR How to play the local card
I was talking to my cousin yesterday and we were kind of bellyaching over the things we haven't done that we said we would do if we lived on an island. One of those things was offshore fishing. It's one of those things that is "Right Here" yet we never took the time to get any information, talk to any locals, or basically do any legwork at all on the subject. I assumed we'd be looking at about $200+ per person for a day of fishing and it really isn't worth that kind of money to me and I suspect it wouldn't be worth that for my cousin. I decided to do a quick search and see what I could find.
Much to my surprise I found a local company that takes people for an all day tour with everything included except food (lunch) for about $105. Pretty reasonable in my book for a full day's worth of entertainment and food to bring home. The web page said to call for reservations and I knew we'd be wanting to go during Memorial Day weekend... therefore I knew there wouldn't be any reservations left. Regardless, I made the call. They inquired when we wanted to go and I queried if they had any openings during the Mem. Day weekend at all. After a moment I was told there were 3 cancellations on Saturday's all day offshore trip and we could get on the waiting list if we wanted. It turns out, unsurprisingly, there was a waiting list for the cancelled seats. I said that would be fine and I gave them my phone number. I didn't even need to think about this one. I wasn't giving them my cell phone number with a different area code. I'd play the local card and give them my land line on the island.
Schwing!
A stroke of luck. I apologize to those that were on the waiting list but hey, I've been that guy, you've been that guy. It happens. For once it turned around in my favor this time. Show up at the dock that evening. I might even share some of my spoils with you. If nothing else I'll tell you the story of how the 900 pound shark got away.
Much to my surprise I found a local company that takes people for an all day tour with everything included except food (lunch) for about $105. Pretty reasonable in my book for a full day's worth of entertainment and food to bring home. The web page said to call for reservations and I knew we'd be wanting to go during Memorial Day weekend... therefore I knew there wouldn't be any reservations left. Regardless, I made the call. They inquired when we wanted to go and I queried if they had any openings during the Mem. Day weekend at all. After a moment I was told there were 3 cancellations on Saturday's all day offshore trip and we could get on the waiting list if we wanted. It turns out, unsurprisingly, there was a waiting list for the cancelled seats. I said that would be fine and I gave them my phone number. I didn't even need to think about this one. I wasn't giving them my cell phone number with a different area code. I'd play the local card and give them my land line on the island.
"Oh, you live on Tybee?"
"Yeah."
"Ok, then I'll go ahead and put the reservations in, you don't need to be on the waiting list."
Schwing!
A stroke of luck. I apologize to those that were on the waiting list but hey, I've been that guy, you've been that guy. It happens. For once it turned around in my favor this time. Show up at the dock that evening. I might even share some of my spoils with you. If nothing else I'll tell you the story of how the 900 pound shark got away.
Sunday, May 14, 2006
I sail! No, wait, I mean I FISH! No wait... Oh nevermind.
Maybe it is the fine appetizers of the Dolphin Reef, maybe it is succumbing to the pressures of living on a island surrounded by saltwater. Whatever the reason, I not only cooked but ate my first meal consisting of primarily seafood tonight. Sure, I can eat a McFish sandwich, but that's not really fish, is it?
I can't tell the number of people that have given me the line, "You just ain't eaten fish cooked the right way." I've tried dozens of plates of fish to have it taste... just like fish. I doubt any redneck, think their fish recipe is the greatest, conversionary people read this but just in case you do, know your fish before you try to convert someone. Cheap chubs and mackerals that can't be hidden by their seasonings are not the way to introduce someone to fish. I don't know how it falls on the price of fish but grouper is the way to introduce someone to fish that doesn't like fish. As I kind of touched on, Dolphin Reef introduced me to grouper with their mega appetizer that included grouper fingers. Grouper is basically a sea bass, but the texture is more chicken-ish than fish and the fishy flavor is very low.
If I might quote Bob Wiley from the movie, What about Bob, "I SAIL! I SAIL!"
Well I don't really sail, but I do now officially eat fish. I cook it too, with a citrus and pepper marinade. On the bbq, in an oven bag.
I can't tell the number of people that have given me the line, "You just ain't eaten fish cooked the right way." I've tried dozens of plates of fish to have it taste... just like fish. I doubt any redneck, think their fish recipe is the greatest, conversionary people read this but just in case you do, know your fish before you try to convert someone. Cheap chubs and mackerals that can't be hidden by their seasonings are not the way to introduce someone to fish. I don't know how it falls on the price of fish but grouper is the way to introduce someone to fish that doesn't like fish. As I kind of touched on, Dolphin Reef introduced me to grouper with their mega appetizer that included grouper fingers. Grouper is basically a sea bass, but the texture is more chicken-ish than fish and the fishy flavor is very low.
If I might quote Bob Wiley from the movie, What about Bob, "I SAIL! I SAIL!"
Well I don't really sail, but I do now officially eat fish. I cook it too, with a citrus and pepper marinade. On the bbq, in an oven bag.
Thursday, May 11, 2006
100 Things you may or may not know about me
1. I would not like to be famous
2. I would like to be obscenely rich
3. I envy, moreso than I should, people that have 8 hour workdays
4. I don't eat seafood
5. I'm not the worrying type
6. I drink far too much alcohol
7. I am ashamed of my national government
8. I have a very strong work ethic but would not work if I were obscenely wealthy
9. I don't believe in ghosts, heaven, or hell
10. I classify my religion as "other" on forms for convenience
11. I will never knowingly support Tom Cruise again
12. I'm not a hairy person
13. I'm not a very sexual person
14. I am intrigued by math and physics yet horrible at both
15. I don't believe people are innately "good"
16. I work best under pressure
17. I often wonder if I am hosting a colony of tapeworms
18. I can whistle like a bird although I never learned to properly catcall
19. I don't have a favorite color or number
20. I don't believe in making money off of employees
21. I love camping
22. I belive "What's good for the goose is good for the gander"
23. I use the word "gander" far too much
24. At chinese buffets I do not eat rice
25. I support same sex marriage
26. I dislike writing checks
27. I like the bread on a sandwich to line up in the direction it was in the loaf
28. I like to watch people but am secretly critcal of them
29. I like to smoke but dislike that I smell like smoke
30. I loathe asking for help
31. I enjoy being alone
32. I do not like bars/clubs
33. I consider myself to be completely average
34. I am a good mediator
35. I don't flirt
36. I have very bad teeth but am afraid of dentists
37. I consider myself to be a "Momma's boy" and have no qualms with people calling me that
38. I like to cook and consider myself to be good at it
39. If all jobs paid the same I would pump gas for a living
40. I went to college to be a high school english teacher
41. I never plan on teaching high school english
42. I don't hold grudges
43. I enjoy mowing grass
44. I dislike unions and any system that rewards seniority over ability
45. I like eggs after a bender
46. I do not approve of lying
47. I prefer Folgers Classic Blend coffee over all others
48. I love chili, possibly too much. I can eat a gallon in a day. (see #17)
49. My desk is always messy
50. I prefer exactly 8 hours of sleep per night
51. I always wear underwear when I go out in public
52. I don't like cake unless it is unbaked
53. The only pie I really like is pumkin pie
54. I hate cornbread and cornbread derivitaves (hush puppies, dressing, corn dogs, etc)
55. I hate squash of all types (except the kind that makes pumpkin pie)
56. I dislike Microsoft and especially Microsoft Office but am required to use it
57. I am not, nor will I likely ever be, an activist for anything (well except open source software)
58. I believe Yahoo! knowingly allows bad things to happen with its web and chat space
59. I am not a slave to fashion
60. I have no sexual fantasies left that have not been acted out
61. I enjoy juvenile fiction
62. I rarely watch television
63. I don't like carrying a cell phone
64. I have a habit of collecting computer keyboards and old computer parts
65. I try to look on the bright side of life but am internally pessimistic
66. I hated Christmas until I had kids. Now I pretty much love it
67. I can play several instruments but cannot draw
68. I feel I will contract cancer within my lifetime
69. I hate it when scissors aren't where they are supposed to be
70. I do not like talking on telephones
71. I believe billy goats are the most vile creatures on the earth
72. I am deathly afraid of snakes
73. I don't own any guns
74. I love go karts and would have my own if I owned land
75. I don't recall ever having an imaginary friend
76. I don't particularly like to dance although I do like to sing
77. I don't do karaoke
78. I do not like to tell people what to do
79. I am not superstitious, believe in foretelling the future, or any of that other mumbo jumbo
80. I would eat dog or cat if it were put on my plate
81. I prefer forests over seas
82. I hope to never live in a "subdivision"
83. I think women misunderstand men just as much as men misunderstand women but women will not admit this
84. I prefer romantic comedies when I choose movies
85. I think health food is overrated
86. I have a basic understanding of the theory of relativity and I think Steven Hawking is mostly full of shit
87. I have lived life like the Waltons
88. I have eaten squirrel, groundhog, rabbit, deer, bear, and alligator. Of these I have killed deer, squirrel, and groundhog
89. My weight fluctuates wildly, as much as 7 pounds per day
90. I dislike buzzwords
91. I have a set way I shower and it never varies.
92. I sometimes wonder if I am obsessive compulsive
93. I love food from a county fair
94. I love to skateboard, bicycle, and rollerskate.
95. I disagree with almost everything the FCC does
96. I prefer to watch movies with closed captioning on even though I am not hard of hearing
97. I am offended by the subtitles some movie producers use for closed captioning "for the hearing impaired." What about those of us that just like to read? I think it should be "closed captioned for the hearing impaired and those that enjoy reading."
98. I am an amateur weather forecaster and I think I'm as good or better than the pros
99. I don't worry about other people's opinions of me
100. I have lived for the better part of a year in a motel
2. I would like to be obscenely rich
3. I envy, moreso than I should, people that have 8 hour workdays
4. I don't eat seafood
5. I'm not the worrying type
6. I drink far too much alcohol
7. I am ashamed of my national government
8. I have a very strong work ethic but would not work if I were obscenely wealthy
9. I don't believe in ghosts, heaven, or hell
10. I classify my religion as "other" on forms for convenience
11. I will never knowingly support Tom Cruise again
12. I'm not a hairy person
13. I'm not a very sexual person
14. I am intrigued by math and physics yet horrible at both
15. I don't believe people are innately "good"
16. I work best under pressure
17. I often wonder if I am hosting a colony of tapeworms
18. I can whistle like a bird although I never learned to properly catcall
19. I don't have a favorite color or number
20. I don't believe in making money off of employees
21. I love camping
22. I belive "What's good for the goose is good for the gander"
23. I use the word "gander" far too much
24. At chinese buffets I do not eat rice
25. I support same sex marriage
26. I dislike writing checks
27. I like the bread on a sandwich to line up in the direction it was in the loaf
28. I like to watch people but am secretly critcal of them
29. I like to smoke but dislike that I smell like smoke
30. I loathe asking for help
31. I enjoy being alone
32. I do not like bars/clubs
33. I consider myself to be completely average
34. I am a good mediator
35. I don't flirt
36. I have very bad teeth but am afraid of dentists
37. I consider myself to be a "Momma's boy" and have no qualms with people calling me that
38. I like to cook and consider myself to be good at it
39. If all jobs paid the same I would pump gas for a living
40. I went to college to be a high school english teacher
41. I never plan on teaching high school english
42. I don't hold grudges
43. I enjoy mowing grass
44. I dislike unions and any system that rewards seniority over ability
45. I like eggs after a bender
46. I do not approve of lying
47. I prefer Folgers Classic Blend coffee over all others
48. I love chili, possibly too much. I can eat a gallon in a day. (see #17)
49. My desk is always messy
50. I prefer exactly 8 hours of sleep per night
51. I always wear underwear when I go out in public
52. I don't like cake unless it is unbaked
53. The only pie I really like is pumkin pie
54. I hate cornbread and cornbread derivitaves (hush puppies, dressing, corn dogs, etc)
55. I hate squash of all types (except the kind that makes pumpkin pie)
56. I dislike Microsoft and especially Microsoft Office but am required to use it
57. I am not, nor will I likely ever be, an activist for anything (well except open source software)
58. I believe Yahoo! knowingly allows bad things to happen with its web and chat space
59. I am not a slave to fashion
60. I have no sexual fantasies left that have not been acted out
61. I enjoy juvenile fiction
62. I rarely watch television
63. I don't like carrying a cell phone
64. I have a habit of collecting computer keyboards and old computer parts
65. I try to look on the bright side of life but am internally pessimistic
66. I hated Christmas until I had kids. Now I pretty much love it
67. I can play several instruments but cannot draw
68. I feel I will contract cancer within my lifetime
69. I hate it when scissors aren't where they are supposed to be
70. I do not like talking on telephones
71. I believe billy goats are the most vile creatures on the earth
72. I am deathly afraid of snakes
73. I don't own any guns
74. I love go karts and would have my own if I owned land
75. I don't recall ever having an imaginary friend
76. I don't particularly like to dance although I do like to sing
77. I don't do karaoke
78. I do not like to tell people what to do
79. I am not superstitious, believe in foretelling the future, or any of that other mumbo jumbo
80. I would eat dog or cat if it were put on my plate
81. I prefer forests over seas
82. I hope to never live in a "subdivision"
83. I think women misunderstand men just as much as men misunderstand women but women will not admit this
84. I prefer romantic comedies when I choose movies
85. I think health food is overrated
86. I have a basic understanding of the theory of relativity and I think Steven Hawking is mostly full of shit
87. I have lived life like the Waltons
88. I have eaten squirrel, groundhog, rabbit, deer, bear, and alligator. Of these I have killed deer, squirrel, and groundhog
89. My weight fluctuates wildly, as much as 7 pounds per day
90. I dislike buzzwords
91. I have a set way I shower and it never varies.
92. I sometimes wonder if I am obsessive compulsive
93. I love food from a county fair
94. I love to skateboard, bicycle, and rollerskate.
95. I disagree with almost everything the FCC does
96. I prefer to watch movies with closed captioning on even though I am not hard of hearing
97. I am offended by the subtitles some movie producers use for closed captioning "for the hearing impaired." What about those of us that just like to read? I think it should be "closed captioned for the hearing impaired and those that enjoy reading."
98. I am an amateur weather forecaster and I think I'm as good or better than the pros
99. I don't worry about other people's opinions of me
100. I have lived for the better part of a year in a motel
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
Playboy radio - one man's review
Sirius has Playboy channel available as an opt-in feature for their subscribers. I happen to be a subscriber and have received the print magazine for several years.
The process for opting in was quick and painless, just a couple clicks on the internet and I was in. I'm a big fan of no hassle experiences and signing up fit the bill nicely.
I have listened to the channel only a handful of times and hve found the programming a mixed bag. My afternoon commute brings erotic tales read by women. Some are outlandish and others are humorous in the manner that only verbal porn can be. The "DJ" of this program definitely doesn't do the show any favors with her faux-sexy, slow drawl that she uses to make small talk between segments. The only thing worse I have heard on there thus far was an early afternoon show with two Playmates chatting. I guess it could have been called a two-way interview. They discussed the Playmate of the year voting, seeing their own "[pause] boobs" in some issue, and other inane topics that quickly made me think of the skit in Amazon Women On The Moon where the Pethouse Playmate decides to live life without clothing after winning Playmate of the year. Realizing I preferred to look at playmates over hearing them pontificate about the meaning of their lives and their favorite parts of the centerfold layouts I began to understand that not all of the programming on Playboy radio is my cup of tea.
All is not lost in the world of Playboy radio my dear readers. I was pleased one morning a I was driving around picking up lunch to hear two male "DJ's" playing a game entotled "Who would you do?" This program consisted of them or their callers naming two women and then they would decide which one they would "do" over the other candidate. They offered their rationale which was invariably as funny as the choices themselves.
Some pairings included:
Mrs. Brady or Mrs. Partridge
I won't go into their detailed rationale; That is best left to the imagination.
As a side note I'd pick Weezie because I couldn't listen to Edith's mouth. Rather like the Playmate blather.
The process for opting in was quick and painless, just a couple clicks on the internet and I was in. I'm a big fan of no hassle experiences and signing up fit the bill nicely.
I have listened to the channel only a handful of times and hve found the programming a mixed bag. My afternoon commute brings erotic tales read by women. Some are outlandish and others are humorous in the manner that only verbal porn can be. The "DJ" of this program definitely doesn't do the show any favors with her faux-sexy, slow drawl that she uses to make small talk between segments. The only thing worse I have heard on there thus far was an early afternoon show with two Playmates chatting. I guess it could have been called a two-way interview. They discussed the Playmate of the year voting, seeing their own "[pause] boobs" in some issue, and other inane topics that quickly made me think of the skit in Amazon Women On The Moon where the Pethouse Playmate decides to live life without clothing after winning Playmate of the year. Realizing I preferred to look at playmates over hearing them pontificate about the meaning of their lives and their favorite parts of the centerfold layouts I began to understand that not all of the programming on Playboy radio is my cup of tea.
All is not lost in the world of Playboy radio my dear readers. I was pleased one morning a I was driving around picking up lunch to hear two male "DJ's" playing a game entotled "Who would you do?" This program consisted of them or their callers naming two women and then they would decide which one they would "do" over the other candidate. They offered their rationale which was invariably as funny as the choices themselves.
Some pairings included:
Mrs. Brady or Mrs. Partridge
- The wife from the Munsters or the wife from the Addams family
- Mona or her daughter from Who's the Boss
- Weezie or Edith Bunker.
I won't go into their detailed rationale; That is best left to the imagination.
As a side note I'd pick Weezie because I couldn't listen to Edith's mouth. Rather like the Playmate blather.
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