this is a shortie. but, we all know olympic boxing scoring has been fucked since 1988. the new gymnastics scoring is bullshit. seriously, a flawless, clearly more difficult routine has to share the lead with a 12 yr old who can't stick a landing? and then be relegated to silver due to judge scoring. Nastia never scored below 8.9 on execution but the chinese girl did. yet she gets gold? fuck that. also, when did softball and baseball at the olympic level become little league with all the mercy rules? that's bullshit. if guam can beat up on the congo in a 100-1 route, then i say let them. i bet the next time congo either fields a team with competent people or they don't enter at all.
but now we must move to my most hated change... volleyball. you no longer have to win the serve to make a point, no, you just have to do anything that would be considered a point and guess what, you get a point. fucking horseshit. i miss volleyball (especially beach, and not for the reasons you think, but the fact that i find two people making it more competitive than 5-6 people can.) matches that went on for quite some time. gabby reese got me into beach v-ball waaaay back when. i have been an avid follower since. seriously, croc's pro tour, i'm watchin it. worlds... yep. all that shit, i love to watch this shit. it's the only women's sport i find more entertaining than men's.
if you can't tell this post is a drunken post. any spelling grammar corrections should be sent to anybody you see in the comment section that isn't me.
----------
and now a few links (all pop):
seriously, her ac/dc is not amazing. but it could be.
make your own warning labels? ok.
uhh... physics kid.
seriously, if you don't wast hours reading this, then i have no idea why you're reading me.
19 August 2008
17 July 2008
Gimp?
Ahh back from the land of socialism again. So I just got back from spending eight days in Canadialand. I do look forward to this vacation every year. I mean it’s the perfect vacation in that all we do is sit around the lake (Huron) and drink beers, play cards (pinochle, euchre and poker), golf everyday, and just plain relax. Seriously, it is the quintessential vacation. No running to meet deadlines, no rush to get here, or rush to see this or that, nothing. Breakfast at 8am lunch at 1230 and dinner at 6pm. Campfires at night where we let the little kids roast s’mores and we talk about shit that you shouldn’t talk about in front of kids.
The best campfire “game” we played was a wonderful tactical decision making game called “fuck, suck or kill”. In this game people are presented with 3 names of famous people, and they must decide which person they will fuck, which person they will go down on and which person they will kill. The trick is, when playing with gentlemen you must name two dudes and chick (that’s two guys and a girl). For example, I would look at Zen Wizard, Dr. Ken, Joe C, Rev, Scooter, and SO@24 and say: Marlon Brando circa 1997, Louie Anderson circa 1997 and Ruth Bader Ginsburg now. They would have to choose who to fuck, who to kill and who to go down own. I have to say in the entire week of playing the game I killed the woman off twice. Once was Oprah, the other was Kathy Bates. Seriously, I was justified.
So unlike last year there was no sexing. Not a bit. I didn’t even get a chance to attempt a “cable guy”. Not that I was involved in the sexing of years past, it would still have been nice to see the tradition live on. There was almost some sexing from the Goalie, however, it didn’t pan out.
On the morning of Cousin’s birthday we had the annual “Staff vs. Guests” softball game, which we all take a little too seriously. After spending a couple innings covering basically the entire outfield I decided to move to the infield as our 3rd baseman was useless. So after laying out for a ball the pitcher should have fielded and trying to get up to hustle back to 3rd I thought it would be a grand idea to blow out my knee. So, I did. And now I’m walking with a cane. Yay me! So that sucked.
However one really good thing did come out of this vacation, and that is an introduction to the game of “waffle”. Waffle is a magical and mysterious game of unknown origins. It was learned by a pair of girls in St. Louis by mysterious strangers and they in turn taught Cousin and Goalie down in Florida who in turn spread it to the campus of Ferris State and then to the Eastern Banks of Lake Huron in Canadialand. No on is quite sure of the reason for the name. Some have hypothesized that it was named as such do the fact that French Toast was taken. Others still have surmised that the name was derived from a drunken New Englander trying to saw “awful” and a drunken Midwesterner hearing “waffle”. And yet others contend the name is simply meant to be as fun as the game. Really, who doesn’t smile when they think of waffles? So, I ask you readers, are you ready to learn the rules of the next big thing? Are you?! Well, then read on:
What you need:
Four people
2 hockey sticks. Cut the blades off and cut a point into the stub you just cut. This makes for hammering them into the ground a little easier. Also, you’ll want to take some hockey tape, or duct tape and add a decent sized nub to the top. Basically, just keep taping around the shaft at the top so you can have a ring the size of a silver dollar.
A good supply of party cups. 16 oz. Not clear.
A Frisbee
A bucket of water
A good supply of beers/mixed drinks.
Setup:
Take the hockey sticks and place them about 10 paces apart. Hammer them into the ground using a rock, or whatever you have handy. Fill two party cups to the first substantial line with water. You will use the bucket of water for this. Not the little baby line ¼ inch from the bottom. The beer pong line. And balance the cups on the ends of the hockey sticks.
Game play:
The game is played to 21. First to 21 wins. Not by two. Straight up.
You must always have a drink in your hand. At all times. Always. Period. This game is played one handed.
Divide into teams of two and choose a side. You and your partner play from the same side. Flip a coin to see which team goes first. If you don’t have a coin, flip the Frisbee.
Starting from behind your stick one person throws the Frisbee at the other team’s stick/cup in an attempt to knock the cup over.
Standing behind their stick the opposing team attempts to catch the Frisbee and the cup if it is knocked over.
After the Frisbee is caught or missed the opposing team then throws at the other teams stick/cup.
Scoring/drinking:
You must catch the Frisbee when thrown. If you do not, the other team is awarded one point. If the Frisbee is deemed uncatchable no points will be awarded. When you drop/miss a Frisbee your team drinks. You just gave the other team points. How does that feel?
When the Frisbee hits the stick you must catch the rebound or else the other team gets the point. Also, you may want to focus on catching the cup too, cuz if that hits the ground that’s 2 points to the other team. That would be a 3 point play. Oh, and you drink.
Should a Frisbee strike the cup directly (not hitting the stick) and you do not catch the cup, that is 4 points for the cup. And a drink. If you miss the Frisbee too, that is another point and a drink. For a total of a 5 point play.
The Frisbee is deemed live until it comes to rest, you may not catch it in front of your stick. If it rolls on the ground up to your stick, strikes the stick and knocks the cup off and you don’t catch the cup, that is only 2 points because the Frisbee was uncatchable. But you still drink
So a good cheat sheet is this:
Frisbee miss = 1 point
Cup miss = 2 points
Direct hit on cup and dropped = 4 points.
A dropped/missed Frisbee is always added on to the cup totals.
Last rule, when passing the Frisbee between partners you are not allowed to hand the Frisbee off. You must toss it, or drop it into their hands but the two of you are not allowed to touch it at the same time. If you drop it, you drink. Sometimes in runaway games we would drop it intentionally just to wet our whistles.
For those of you confused here are some pictures:
click all pictures pop to larger clearer photos.
here is the main setup for Waffle.
here's me making a nonchalant grab of the cup while the goalie lets the frisbee fly past.
here's the cousin trying to make a save at the cup (he fails) and brother doing god only knows what.
here's cousin making a sick ass save of the cup. and brother letting the frisbee drop
here's cousin digging hard trying not to let that point score
here's cousin failing.
as much as I am hacking on him right now, Cousin is by far the most superior waffle defender I've ever witnessed. Just sayin'.
The best campfire “game” we played was a wonderful tactical decision making game called “fuck, suck or kill”. In this game people are presented with 3 names of famous people, and they must decide which person they will fuck, which person they will go down on and which person they will kill. The trick is, when playing with gentlemen you must name two dudes and chick (that’s two guys and a girl). For example, I would look at Zen Wizard, Dr. Ken, Joe C, Rev, Scooter, and SO@24 and say: Marlon Brando circa 1997, Louie Anderson circa 1997 and Ruth Bader Ginsburg now. They would have to choose who to fuck, who to kill and who to go down own. I have to say in the entire week of playing the game I killed the woman off twice. Once was Oprah, the other was Kathy Bates. Seriously, I was justified.
So unlike last year there was no sexing. Not a bit. I didn’t even get a chance to attempt a “cable guy”. Not that I was involved in the sexing of years past, it would still have been nice to see the tradition live on. There was almost some sexing from the Goalie, however, it didn’t pan out.
On the morning of Cousin’s birthday we had the annual “Staff vs. Guests” softball game, which we all take a little too seriously. After spending a couple innings covering basically the entire outfield I decided to move to the infield as our 3rd baseman was useless. So after laying out for a ball the pitcher should have fielded and trying to get up to hustle back to 3rd I thought it would be a grand idea to blow out my knee. So, I did. And now I’m walking with a cane. Yay me! So that sucked.
However one really good thing did come out of this vacation, and that is an introduction to the game of “waffle”. Waffle is a magical and mysterious game of unknown origins. It was learned by a pair of girls in St. Louis by mysterious strangers and they in turn taught Cousin and Goalie down in Florida who in turn spread it to the campus of Ferris State and then to the Eastern Banks of Lake Huron in Canadialand. No on is quite sure of the reason for the name. Some have hypothesized that it was named as such do the fact that French Toast was taken. Others still have surmised that the name was derived from a drunken New Englander trying to saw “awful” and a drunken Midwesterner hearing “waffle”. And yet others contend the name is simply meant to be as fun as the game. Really, who doesn’t smile when they think of waffles? So, I ask you readers, are you ready to learn the rules of the next big thing? Are you?! Well, then read on:
What you need:
Four people
2 hockey sticks. Cut the blades off and cut a point into the stub you just cut. This makes for hammering them into the ground a little easier. Also, you’ll want to take some hockey tape, or duct tape and add a decent sized nub to the top. Basically, just keep taping around the shaft at the top so you can have a ring the size of a silver dollar.
A good supply of party cups. 16 oz. Not clear.
A Frisbee
A bucket of water
A good supply of beers/mixed drinks.
Setup:
Take the hockey sticks and place them about 10 paces apart. Hammer them into the ground using a rock, or whatever you have handy. Fill two party cups to the first substantial line with water. You will use the bucket of water for this. Not the little baby line ¼ inch from the bottom. The beer pong line. And balance the cups on the ends of the hockey sticks.
Game play:
The game is played to 21. First to 21 wins. Not by two. Straight up.
You must always have a drink in your hand. At all times. Always. Period. This game is played one handed.
Divide into teams of two and choose a side. You and your partner play from the same side. Flip a coin to see which team goes first. If you don’t have a coin, flip the Frisbee.
Starting from behind your stick one person throws the Frisbee at the other team’s stick/cup in an attempt to knock the cup over.
Standing behind their stick the opposing team attempts to catch the Frisbee and the cup if it is knocked over.
After the Frisbee is caught or missed the opposing team then throws at the other teams stick/cup.
Scoring/drinking:
You must catch the Frisbee when thrown. If you do not, the other team is awarded one point. If the Frisbee is deemed uncatchable no points will be awarded. When you drop/miss a Frisbee your team drinks. You just gave the other team points. How does that feel?
When the Frisbee hits the stick you must catch the rebound or else the other team gets the point. Also, you may want to focus on catching the cup too, cuz if that hits the ground that’s 2 points to the other team. That would be a 3 point play. Oh, and you drink.
Should a Frisbee strike the cup directly (not hitting the stick) and you do not catch the cup, that is 4 points for the cup. And a drink. If you miss the Frisbee too, that is another point and a drink. For a total of a 5 point play.
The Frisbee is deemed live until it comes to rest, you may not catch it in front of your stick. If it rolls on the ground up to your stick, strikes the stick and knocks the cup off and you don’t catch the cup, that is only 2 points because the Frisbee was uncatchable. But you still drink
So a good cheat sheet is this:
Frisbee miss = 1 point
Cup miss = 2 points
Direct hit on cup and dropped = 4 points.
A dropped/missed Frisbee is always added on to the cup totals.
Last rule, when passing the Frisbee between partners you are not allowed to hand the Frisbee off. You must toss it, or drop it into their hands but the two of you are not allowed to touch it at the same time. If you drop it, you drink. Sometimes in runaway games we would drop it intentionally just to wet our whistles.
For those of you confused here are some pictures:
click all pictures pop to larger clearer photos.
here is the main setup for Waffle.
here's me making a nonchalant grab of the cup while the goalie lets the frisbee fly past.
here's the cousin trying to make a save at the cup (he fails) and brother doing god only knows what.
here's cousin making a sick ass save of the cup. and brother letting the frisbee drop
here's cousin digging hard trying not to let that point score
here's cousin failing.
as much as I am hacking on him right now, Cousin is by far the most superior waffle defender I've ever witnessed. Just sayin'.
21 June 2008
You too Can be a Jukebox Terrorist
So, there are times when I like to be an asshole for the sake of being an asshole. Sometimes, I’m pushed. The other night was one of the latter. On occasion I have been known to be a jukebox terrorist. Basically, I can only listen to “Soulja Boy” and “Cupid Shuffle” et al. so many times that I MUST do something about it. That something is my version of a dirty bomb. After I see some d-bag finish making his shitty selections, that I’m sure I’ll loathe for the simple fact I’m already in a loathsome mood towards the repetition coming at me, I promptly step up and insert $5 into the Juke. Then, I start at the top of this list and work till I have no credits left:
Alice's Restaurant Massacree- Arlo Guthrie: 18:20
Voodoo Chile- Jimmy Hendrix: 15:05
Rapper's Delight- Sugarhill Gang: 14:37
I'd do Anything for Love- Meatloaf: 11:58
Love Song- Tesla (off 5 man acoustical jam): 9:54
The Load Out/Stay (make sure it's the combined version from "running on empty")- Jackson Browne: 9:33
Free Bird- Lynyrd Skynyrd: 9:07
November Rain- Guns N Roses: 8:54
Purple Rain- Prince: 8:45
Won't Get Fooled Again(full version, not single)- The Who: 8:32
American Pie- Don McLean: 8:30
Scenes from an Italian Restaurant- Billy Joel: 7:37
Blinded by the Light- Manfred Mann (has to be the album version, not the single): 7:08
Hey Jude- The Beatles: 7:05
Wreck of the Edmund Fitz- Gordon Lightfoot: 6:32
Honorable mention:
In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida- Iron Butterfly: 17:10
Why is it only honorable mention? Because most jukeboxes play a severely truncated version that runs 2:53. So you may want to pre scout that one on your local juke.
The true beauty is that the first four songs are exactly one hour long together. The rest is just icing on the cake. Seriously, people will pay 5 extra credits just to try to get one of the their songs off in the middle of mine. Fuck ‘em, I’ve just tied up the juke for 2 hours and I can space out and ignore the songs I played. Why? Cuz none of them are that good that you have to get into it. you can seriously just play them, and forget about them. The reward? I don’t have to listen to “don’t stop believin’” or flo-rida’s “low” for the thirtieth time that night.
Everybody knows what I’m doing when they see me run to the jukebox throwin’ ‘bows at anyone trying to get in my way. The victory walk from the machine with my devilish grin usually lets everyone know that I was up to absolutely no good. Actually, there are occasions when people have come up to me and asked me to “do my thing” because someone just played the entire New Kids discography, and just went to the bar to get more singles for the jukebox. So, I willingly oblige.
Do I take way too much pleasure out of this act? Yes. Will I stop? No. In fact, I’m going to keep trying to add to my list so that I may take up more time for less money. Any suggestions*? For the record I generally like all songs, I just have too short an attention span to deal with hearing the same song more than twice a night. You know, I sound like a cranky old man right now, I understand this. But someone has to feel my plight. Right? No? Fuck it.
Before you go, check out this link. Audio is worth waiting for, I promise.
http://youmakemetouchyourhandsforstupidreasons.ytmnd.com/
*Keep in mind the songs need to be readily available in any jukebox. That’s why I like this list, it is pretty well contained to mainstream songs that you can find anywhere from a field in Battle Creek to the slums of West Palm Beach.
Alice's Restaurant Massacree- Arlo Guthrie: 18:20
Voodoo Chile- Jimmy Hendrix: 15:05
Rapper's Delight- Sugarhill Gang: 14:37
I'd do Anything for Love- Meatloaf: 11:58
Love Song- Tesla (off 5 man acoustical jam): 9:54
The Load Out/Stay (make sure it's the combined version from "running on empty")- Jackson Browne: 9:33
Free Bird- Lynyrd Skynyrd: 9:07
November Rain- Guns N Roses: 8:54
Purple Rain- Prince: 8:45
Won't Get Fooled Again(full version, not single)- The Who: 8:32
American Pie- Don McLean: 8:30
Scenes from an Italian Restaurant- Billy Joel: 7:37
Blinded by the Light- Manfred Mann (has to be the album version, not the single): 7:08
Hey Jude- The Beatles: 7:05
Wreck of the Edmund Fitz- Gordon Lightfoot: 6:32
Honorable mention:
In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida- Iron Butterfly: 17:10
Why is it only honorable mention? Because most jukeboxes play a severely truncated version that runs 2:53. So you may want to pre scout that one on your local juke.
The true beauty is that the first four songs are exactly one hour long together. The rest is just icing on the cake. Seriously, people will pay 5 extra credits just to try to get one of the their songs off in the middle of mine. Fuck ‘em, I’ve just tied up the juke for 2 hours and I can space out and ignore the songs I played. Why? Cuz none of them are that good that you have to get into it. you can seriously just play them, and forget about them. The reward? I don’t have to listen to “don’t stop believin’” or flo-rida’s “low” for the thirtieth time that night.
Everybody knows what I’m doing when they see me run to the jukebox throwin’ ‘bows at anyone trying to get in my way. The victory walk from the machine with my devilish grin usually lets everyone know that I was up to absolutely no good. Actually, there are occasions when people have come up to me and asked me to “do my thing” because someone just played the entire New Kids discography, and just went to the bar to get more singles for the jukebox. So, I willingly oblige.
Do I take way too much pleasure out of this act? Yes. Will I stop? No. In fact, I’m going to keep trying to add to my list so that I may take up more time for less money. Any suggestions*? For the record I generally like all songs, I just have too short an attention span to deal with hearing the same song more than twice a night. You know, I sound like a cranky old man right now, I understand this. But someone has to feel my plight. Right? No? Fuck it.
Before you go, check out this link. Audio is worth waiting for, I promise.
http://youmakemetouchyourhandsforstupidreasons.ytmnd.com/
*Keep in mind the songs need to be readily available in any jukebox. That’s why I like this list, it is pretty well contained to mainstream songs that you can find anywhere from a field in Battle Creek to the slums of West Palm Beach.
10 June 2008
Cruise Recap
So we’ve been back from the cruise for a couple of weeks now and I figure you all want to know about the fun that was had whilst you all were toiling away at your daily grind. First of all we knew the trip was going to be going to be good when, at 5:30am after checking in and noticing that were leaving out of gate C-5, my cousin looks at me and says, “man, too bad we’re not leaving out C-4, cuz we are DYNOMITE!”. To which I had to hang my head and laugh at his corny ass joke, when, not a minute later as we were going through the security pre-screen I point out that we are not allowed to bring guns on the plane, Cwik stops and looks at us and oh so flatly says (while flexing),”But I can’t remove these guns.” Yeah, it was gonna be a good trip.
On the plane I’m pretty sure the old couple in front of us shat their pants twice. Seriously, farts do not linger that long. So, I tried sleeping on the flight which I just couldn’t do for some reason. It was Monday morning and I hadn’t been asleep since sometime Sunday morning. I caught about a 15 minute nap in the van to the port, but really, I was spent.
So in the process of checking in to the ship things started to really look up when four women started chatting us up, this was perfect, since you know, there was four of us and four of them. Anyhow, they became “Team Oklahoma” since, they were all from OK. Later on we’d find out that two were married and the other two were not in fact sluts. Dammit. So we got on the boat, and into the room and I straight fucking passed out till the boat drill.
The first night in the club Cousin and Brother tried wheeling a couple of chicks from Texas that straight shut ‘em down. Well, really they said, “maybe in a couple nights”. But that never happened. HOWEVER, a chick that I started working on, that I put in the time on, was in fact scooped by cousin and successfully closed the next night. She was Russian and hot, and my own cousin cock blocked me. MY OWN COUSIN. However, I tried my damndest the first night to cock block him back. I was mostly successful, but not successful enough. Meh, he earned it. Now he owes me one.
Other than that it was a really relaxing trip. We played some knock down drag out bingo, and I kicked some ass in lame trivia and won a plastic trophy. It actually came down to a tie breaker question, “What is the currency of South Africa?” I was blurting out “Rand!” before she even had time to look at me. WINNER! I was basically going around and trying to get all the free shit I could. I completely failed on getting my free art. I wanted to go get more trophies that I forgot about the free art and never tried to get it after that. Lame.
Anyhow, Cousin got laid, we all had fun, and then we missed our flight on Saturday. Why? Well, they had 8 customs agents trying to process the entire fucking ship. 8. 2000 people, eight agents. We were in line at 8:30am and didn’t clear customs till 11am. We managed to get to the airport by 11:30 for a 12:05 flight. Spirit would not let us check in. There was a big hullabaloo and we were pissed, they were completely unhelpful and we ended up waiting for 2 hours to talk to a supervisor who pretty much did nothing to help us. So we had to get new tickets and I had to cancel travel plans to Chicago due to missing a connecting flight, which meant I was out even more money since I had prepaid for the hotel. The upside? The 8:15 flight we got transferred to was delayed till 10:00 so we got to watch the first two periods of the Wings game in the airport bar. Yay! And apparently Corey Haim was heading to Lima, Peru. I was sleeping through that part, but I do have two product endorsements: those neck pillows, and the Bose Quiet Comort 2 head phones. Seriously, awesome.
Anyhow, since this post was pretty boring, I’ll leave you with a comic:
until i get a chance to edit that, here's the link: http://i26.photobucket.com/albums/c130/drunkenchud/41563.png
On the plane I’m pretty sure the old couple in front of us shat their pants twice. Seriously, farts do not linger that long. So, I tried sleeping on the flight which I just couldn’t do for some reason. It was Monday morning and I hadn’t been asleep since sometime Sunday morning. I caught about a 15 minute nap in the van to the port, but really, I was spent.
So in the process of checking in to the ship things started to really look up when four women started chatting us up, this was perfect, since you know, there was four of us and four of them. Anyhow, they became “Team Oklahoma” since, they were all from OK. Later on we’d find out that two were married and the other two were not in fact sluts. Dammit. So we got on the boat, and into the room and I straight fucking passed out till the boat drill.
The first night in the club Cousin and Brother tried wheeling a couple of chicks from Texas that straight shut ‘em down. Well, really they said, “maybe in a couple nights”. But that never happened. HOWEVER, a chick that I started working on, that I put in the time on, was in fact scooped by cousin and successfully closed the next night. She was Russian and hot, and my own cousin cock blocked me. MY OWN COUSIN. However, I tried my damndest the first night to cock block him back. I was mostly successful, but not successful enough. Meh, he earned it. Now he owes me one.
Other than that it was a really relaxing trip. We played some knock down drag out bingo, and I kicked some ass in lame trivia and won a plastic trophy. It actually came down to a tie breaker question, “What is the currency of South Africa?” I was blurting out “Rand!” before she even had time to look at me. WINNER! I was basically going around and trying to get all the free shit I could. I completely failed on getting my free art. I wanted to go get more trophies that I forgot about the free art and never tried to get it after that. Lame.
Anyhow, Cousin got laid, we all had fun, and then we missed our flight on Saturday. Why? Well, they had 8 customs agents trying to process the entire fucking ship. 8. 2000 people, eight agents. We were in line at 8:30am and didn’t clear customs till 11am. We managed to get to the airport by 11:30 for a 12:05 flight. Spirit would not let us check in. There was a big hullabaloo and we were pissed, they were completely unhelpful and we ended up waiting for 2 hours to talk to a supervisor who pretty much did nothing to help us. So we had to get new tickets and I had to cancel travel plans to Chicago due to missing a connecting flight, which meant I was out even more money since I had prepaid for the hotel. The upside? The 8:15 flight we got transferred to was delayed till 10:00 so we got to watch the first two periods of the Wings game in the airport bar. Yay! And apparently Corey Haim was heading to Lima, Peru. I was sleeping through that part, but I do have two product endorsements: those neck pillows, and the Bose Quiet Comort 2 head phones. Seriously, awesome.
Anyhow, since this post was pretty boring, I’ll leave you with a comic:
until i get a chance to edit that, here's the link: http://i26.photobucket.com/albums/c130/drunkenchud/41563.png
14 May 2008
ECHO!!! echo...
So, it’s been quite some time since I posted last… yeah, sorry ‘bout that. It’s not that I haven’t had plenty of material to post, or the desire, I’ve just been drunk. Well mostly drunk, mostly lazy, completely highly unmotivated. Plenty of people have given me tons ‘o’ blog fodder, I have just lazed around like the shiftless layabout that I am and let it all pass by. Then I noticed that Kristin tagged me to talk about 6 completely unremarkable things about myself. This was perfect, now all the blog posts I had swirling around my head I can now truncate and put into one list post. WOOOOOHOOOOOO! So go get your bubblegum and hold on to your potatoes cuz here we go.
1. I play a lot of video games. Actually, that statement could be taken wrong, I play video games a lot. I usually find one I like and ride it till it dies. For the past several months this has been Call of Duty 4. I play it online with friends and family, so we tend to roll deep. Anyhow, it being the World Wide Web and all we play with a lot of foreigners. In general I like foreigners, except the ones I don’t. Up until playing this game I used to like the British. Now as soon as I hear one of those limey bastards talk I pray to god that they are on the other team so I can kick their snobbish asses. Here’s the thing I learned from the Brits: The U.S. has never won a war against Britain. In fact the ONLY reason we won the revolutionary war was thanks to the French. So when you ask them if they’ve ever lost a war to the French, the answer is also no. Oh, and they don’t even acknowledge the war of 1812. ALSO, the Brits had WWI and WWII completely under control by the time we came in, and thus we weren’t needed. You can try to reason with them by asking such things as, “So, when the Luftwaffe was turning London into rubble during the Blitz and Churchill was on the phone with Roosevelt begging for our help… that was you guys having under control?” the answer you will get is something about the Blitz never happening or it not being “that bad”. Anyway, my new goal is to convince the UK to back the Pound by sterling silver again and then I want to find an enormous silver deposit somewhere so I can flood the market with silver and this completely devalue the pound sterling. Yeah, I’m an evil genius. Or not.
2. My Buddy Rev and I used to run a website with another buddy of ours named Navy. This website used to feature local bands and the like. Anyhow, after Navy started making the beast with two backs with Rev’s on again off again Weird Al look alike girlfriend, a rift was born. I was away at college and those two weren’t talking to each other and I cared not. So Rev was still toiling away with the website when I came home and he had booked a radio gig through a friend of his. He tells me of the show and I told him that I in fact would tune and let him know how much of a douchenozzle he came across as. The topic of conversation on the show switched to “things that used to be cool on MTV” so I figured I’d call in and talk about two of my favorite things from back in the day; Headbangers Ball, and the old Dennis Leary Commercials about Cindy Crawford. When the phone screener answered I recognized the voice and the name of a kid I used to hang out with every day in high school. We (Rev, the Screener, and I) were all good friends back then, so I have him put my name up on the screens as “Navy, still humping rev’s ex”. While on hold you get to listen to the show and then there was a pause, and the host said to Rev, “dude, take a look at line three… you wanna take it?” to which Rev replied “bring it”. So I tried to do my best Navy impression and let out a “dude”. I could hear the tension in Rev’s voice as I tried to keep up the impression and then he realized it was me and the jig was up. But I had my 10 seconds of glory on live radio. Told you. Unremarkable.
3. A kid I grew up with has this girlfriend. She is hilarious and loves to toast, I like to call her “cheers”. The other thing she does is use me as a jungle gym. Seriously, her and her sister love to just climb all over me. If I pick up my beer, I must pick one of them up too. Anyway, her boyfriend’s brother was at the bar, and he and I were fucking around like we always do, and he decided to try to pick my up. I assured him this feat would land him in the hospital with herniated discs and the like. He tried his damndest but just could lift my tank ass up. So I turned around and picked his ass up into a fireman’s carry. Well, as soon as Cheers saw this she wanted in on the action. First she tried to lift me, then I put her into the fireman’s carry. Then, upon insistence from others around me and with my buddy spotting me, I pressed her. Man, alcohol makes feats of strength that much more fun.
4. My mom Tivo’s Oprah everyday. When I’m home, and she’s home, she likes to watch it. I hate Oprah with a passion. Seriously, I think she is 100% fake and completely insincere and doesn’t know how to emote. Anyhow, all this aside, I tend to hear the things being said on TV while I’m sitting in my chair playing on the laptop. This is a huge problem for me, as I have caught myself many times starting a sentence of with, “well, that’s not completely true, I mean, there are Oprah episodes dedicated to that.” Or “I just saw something about that on Oprah.” And right now as we speak she just walked in and turned on Oprah and the topic is polygamy. I need to go to work.
5. I like to Tivo the show “the universe”. It’s an awesome and educational show. Seriously, I recommend it to anyone with even a passing interest in the world around us, and the worlds around that. However, sometimes I cannot wrap my brain around the way they bandy certain things about as fact. They can surmise things, and hypothesize, and even be pretty sure about things. When when something is so far away that it is barely visible I submit that you cannot tell me all of the properties of said object having never been able to examine it. I understand there is a lot of math, and science that goes into it… but seriously, you cannot tell me the composition of a planet as a fact just by observing a gray speck on some film. I take issue with that. You can say, “we assume it to be X” not, “it IS X”. still though, great show.
6. I am now ½ hour late for work. By the time I get to work, I’ll be 45 minutes late. No one will care. I like my job.
So, there you have it. Unremarkability and all.
1. I play a lot of video games. Actually, that statement could be taken wrong, I play video games a lot. I usually find one I like and ride it till it dies. For the past several months this has been Call of Duty 4. I play it online with friends and family, so we tend to roll deep. Anyhow, it being the World Wide Web and all we play with a lot of foreigners. In general I like foreigners, except the ones I don’t. Up until playing this game I used to like the British. Now as soon as I hear one of those limey bastards talk I pray to god that they are on the other team so I can kick their snobbish asses. Here’s the thing I learned from the Brits: The U.S. has never won a war against Britain. In fact the ONLY reason we won the revolutionary war was thanks to the French. So when you ask them if they’ve ever lost a war to the French, the answer is also no. Oh, and they don’t even acknowledge the war of 1812. ALSO, the Brits had WWI and WWII completely under control by the time we came in, and thus we weren’t needed. You can try to reason with them by asking such things as, “So, when the Luftwaffe was turning London into rubble during the Blitz and Churchill was on the phone with Roosevelt begging for our help… that was you guys having under control?” the answer you will get is something about the Blitz never happening or it not being “that bad”. Anyway, my new goal is to convince the UK to back the Pound by sterling silver again and then I want to find an enormous silver deposit somewhere so I can flood the market with silver and this completely devalue the pound sterling. Yeah, I’m an evil genius. Or not.
2. My Buddy Rev and I used to run a website with another buddy of ours named Navy. This website used to feature local bands and the like. Anyhow, after Navy started making the beast with two backs with Rev’s on again off again Weird Al look alike girlfriend, a rift was born. I was away at college and those two weren’t talking to each other and I cared not. So Rev was still toiling away with the website when I came home and he had booked a radio gig through a friend of his. He tells me of the show and I told him that I in fact would tune and let him know how much of a douchenozzle he came across as. The topic of conversation on the show switched to “things that used to be cool on MTV” so I figured I’d call in and talk about two of my favorite things from back in the day; Headbangers Ball, and the old Dennis Leary Commercials about Cindy Crawford. When the phone screener answered I recognized the voice and the name of a kid I used to hang out with every day in high school. We (Rev, the Screener, and I) were all good friends back then, so I have him put my name up on the screens as “Navy, still humping rev’s ex”. While on hold you get to listen to the show and then there was a pause, and the host said to Rev, “dude, take a look at line three… you wanna take it?” to which Rev replied “bring it”. So I tried to do my best Navy impression and let out a “dude”. I could hear the tension in Rev’s voice as I tried to keep up the impression and then he realized it was me and the jig was up. But I had my 10 seconds of glory on live radio. Told you. Unremarkable.
3. A kid I grew up with has this girlfriend. She is hilarious and loves to toast, I like to call her “cheers”. The other thing she does is use me as a jungle gym. Seriously, her and her sister love to just climb all over me. If I pick up my beer, I must pick one of them up too. Anyway, her boyfriend’s brother was at the bar, and he and I were fucking around like we always do, and he decided to try to pick my up. I assured him this feat would land him in the hospital with herniated discs and the like. He tried his damndest but just could lift my tank ass up. So I turned around and picked his ass up into a fireman’s carry. Well, as soon as Cheers saw this she wanted in on the action. First she tried to lift me, then I put her into the fireman’s carry. Then, upon insistence from others around me and with my buddy spotting me, I pressed her. Man, alcohol makes feats of strength that much more fun.
4. My mom Tivo’s Oprah everyday. When I’m home, and she’s home, she likes to watch it. I hate Oprah with a passion. Seriously, I think she is 100% fake and completely insincere and doesn’t know how to emote. Anyhow, all this aside, I tend to hear the things being said on TV while I’m sitting in my chair playing on the laptop. This is a huge problem for me, as I have caught myself many times starting a sentence of with, “well, that’s not completely true, I mean, there are Oprah episodes dedicated to that.” Or “I just saw something about that on Oprah.” And right now as we speak she just walked in and turned on Oprah and the topic is polygamy. I need to go to work.
5. I like to Tivo the show “the universe”. It’s an awesome and educational show. Seriously, I recommend it to anyone with even a passing interest in the world around us, and the worlds around that. However, sometimes I cannot wrap my brain around the way they bandy certain things about as fact. They can surmise things, and hypothesize, and even be pretty sure about things. When when something is so far away that it is barely visible I submit that you cannot tell me all of the properties of said object having never been able to examine it. I understand there is a lot of math, and science that goes into it… but seriously, you cannot tell me the composition of a planet as a fact just by observing a gray speck on some film. I take issue with that. You can say, “we assume it to be X” not, “it IS X”. still though, great show.
6. I am now ½ hour late for work. By the time I get to work, I’ll be 45 minutes late. No one will care. I like my job.
So, there you have it. Unremarkability and all.
31 March 2008
Ruining "Lola" One Person at a Time.
Nelly: (listening to "Lola") dude, good song.
Me: Uhh, dude this song creeps me out.
Nelly: What? it's a good song.
Me: Dude it's about falling in love with a tranny.
Nelly: What the fuck?
Me: Dude, the line, "i know what i am i'm a man and so is my Lola" caps off the rest of the song and its overt lyrics about Lola being a man. seriously.
Nelly: (turning up the radio) "Well Im not dumb but I cant understand
Why she walked like a woman and talked like a man
Oh my lola lo-lo-lo-lo lola lo-lo-lo-lo lola"
Me: See?
Nelly: (listening to the radio still) "Well we drank champagne and danced all night
Under electric candlelight
She picked me up and sat me on her knee
And said dear boy wont you come home with me
Well Im not the worlds most passionate guy..."
Me: ...
Nelly: (Still still listening) "Well I left home just a week before
And Id never ever kissed a woman before
But lola smiled and took me by the hand
And said dear boy Im gonna make you a man"
Me: see, he still hasn't kissed a woman. she's a man MAN.
Radio: "Well Im not the worlds most masculine man
But I know what I am I'm a man
And so is lola
Lo-lo-lo-lo lola lo-lo-lo-lo lola"
Nelly: Thanks for ruining a good song for me asshole. Now whenever I hear this song I'll forever be upset.
Me: Well, it's a song about a guy who falls in love with a girl an finds out she's a man, and is ok with it. Oldest love story in the book. Uhhh, sorry dude.
Me: Uhh, dude this song creeps me out.
Nelly: What? it's a good song.
Me: Dude it's about falling in love with a tranny.
Nelly: What the fuck?
Me: Dude, the line, "i know what i am i'm a man and so is my Lola" caps off the rest of the song and its overt lyrics about Lola being a man. seriously.
Nelly: (turning up the radio) "Well Im not dumb but I cant understand
Why she walked like a woman and talked like a man
Oh my lola lo-lo-lo-lo lola lo-lo-lo-lo lola"
Me: See?
Nelly: (listening to the radio still) "Well we drank champagne and danced all night
Under electric candlelight
She picked me up and sat me on her knee
And said dear boy wont you come home with me
Well Im not the worlds most passionate guy..."
Me: ...
Nelly: (Still still listening) "Well I left home just a week before
And Id never ever kissed a woman before
But lola smiled and took me by the hand
And said dear boy Im gonna make you a man"
Me: see, he still hasn't kissed a woman. she's a man MAN.
Radio: "Well Im not the worlds most masculine man
But I know what I am I'm a man
And so is lola
Lo-lo-lo-lo lola lo-lo-lo-lo lola"
Nelly: Thanks for ruining a good song for me asshole. Now whenever I hear this song I'll forever be upset.
Me: Well, it's a song about a guy who falls in love with a girl an finds out she's a man, and is ok with it. Oldest love story in the book. Uhhh, sorry dude.
03 March 2008
Hungry eyes
you haven't lived till you've drunkenly pulled off the lift from dirty dancing to the song "hungry eyes" in a packed bar to a standing ovation.
a bit of warning though, every girl who thinks they are sveldt yet who is considerably less than, will try to get you to do the lift with them. i find that saying you have bad shoulders (which i actually do) works out (even if they aren't bothering you). seriously, i'm a big guy, and i've got some brute strength, but the girl i was lifting was small enough that i could get her up to full arm extension with a little help from her, but the other girls wanting to be "baby" for a hot second... shit, i'd have needed the exoskeleton from alien.
however, i will say to any women trying to do said lift, DO NOT JUST TRY TO JUMP UP. seriously, if you just try to jump as high as you can all we as the guy are doing is trying to slow your fall and then lift you against that momentum. this equals failure. you have to seriously try to jump at our foreheads. i mean really try to jump at our foreheads. seriously aim to try to tackle our hairline. then, and only then can we make it look fluid. just a tip. we may be strong, but when you are dead weight, or working counter to physics, it can suck. so, that's my tip.
p.s. nobody puts baby in a corner.
a bit of warning though, every girl who thinks they are sveldt yet who is considerably less than, will try to get you to do the lift with them. i find that saying you have bad shoulders (which i actually do) works out (even if they aren't bothering you). seriously, i'm a big guy, and i've got some brute strength, but the girl i was lifting was small enough that i could get her up to full arm extension with a little help from her, but the other girls wanting to be "baby" for a hot second... shit, i'd have needed the exoskeleton from alien.
however, i will say to any women trying to do said lift, DO NOT JUST TRY TO JUMP UP. seriously, if you just try to jump as high as you can all we as the guy are doing is trying to slow your fall and then lift you against that momentum. this equals failure. you have to seriously try to jump at our foreheads. i mean really try to jump at our foreheads. seriously aim to try to tackle our hairline. then, and only then can we make it look fluid. just a tip. we may be strong, but when you are dead weight, or working counter to physics, it can suck. so, that's my tip.
p.s. nobody puts baby in a corner.
09 February 2008
Hahaha! FAT Tuesday! I GET IT. ASS.
So, it’s been a while. This drunken haze emergence is a process that sometimes takes until after St. Patrick’s Day. So, the 5th was my birthday and I had an extremely lofty goal: to army crawl home due to severe intoxication. So, the night started out easy enough, Rev and The Doctor came to pick me up and I was not at all ready, in fact I was still playing video games. Hey, it was my birthday, I’m allowed some latitude. So, upon my arrival to the bar, the bartendress bought me my birthday shot, jack, my favorite. So, then EVERYONE got in on that gag. Buy shots for Chud, he’ll drink anything! He likes it! Hey Chuddy, he likes it!
Well, I did like it. apparently a little too much. Shots kept coming, and someone dared me to do a rail* of pepper. I think it became elevated to double dog dare status (faaar too quickly for standard dare protocol if you ask me though) and thusly as per man code, I rolled up a bill and snorted that rail like it was coke and the bar was a hooker’s ass. Needless to say it didn’t go so well. I started snotting and itching and more or less had to blow my nose. And by more or less, I mean more. Then less. Then more again. It was funny really, the tissue was full of snot and pepper. Which I seriously don’t recommend using a spice combo in your next meal. Wholly unappetizing in appearance. Someone had the great idea to play beer pong, which I am a champ. HOWEVER, this was not the case this night as I had seriously degraded motor skills due to many beers and many shots. So we didn’t win any games, yippee shit. I did however go all Cloverfield (Godzilla) on the beer pong cups dashing them asunder whilst flailing my arms wildly like some lunatic that flails his arms wildly. Then I am told I did a pelvic thrust to the table to overturn it. I know I got a lot handsy with some of the girls and may have been yelling “it’s my birthday AND Mardi Gras! I wanna see some titties!” while trying to goad girls into flashing with some “bud bowl” beads. Yeah, I’m all class.
So, to recap for the night:
Beer pong table: 0
Chud: eleventy billion
Titties: 0
Post Script (oooh, how pretentious i spelled it out!), I did not in fact "Army crawl" home, no one would let me. Though I have been told that it was debated to throw me in the bed of a truck and laugh as I lolled about as they drove home. lucky for me, the opted for letting me in the passenger seat. Or so I was told.
Well, I did like it. apparently a little too much. Shots kept coming, and someone dared me to do a rail* of pepper. I think it became elevated to double dog dare status (faaar too quickly for standard dare protocol if you ask me though) and thusly as per man code, I rolled up a bill and snorted that rail like it was coke and the bar was a hooker’s ass. Needless to say it didn’t go so well. I started snotting and itching and more or less had to blow my nose. And by more or less, I mean more. Then less. Then more again. It was funny really, the tissue was full of snot and pepper. Which I seriously don’t recommend using a spice combo in your next meal. Wholly unappetizing in appearance. Someone had the great idea to play beer pong, which I am a champ. HOWEVER, this was not the case this night as I had seriously degraded motor skills due to many beers and many shots. So we didn’t win any games, yippee shit. I did however go all Cloverfield (Godzilla) on the beer pong cups dashing them asunder whilst flailing my arms wildly like some lunatic that flails his arms wildly. Then I am told I did a pelvic thrust to the table to overturn it. I know I got a lot handsy with some of the girls and may have been yelling “it’s my birthday AND Mardi Gras! I wanna see some titties!” while trying to goad girls into flashing with some “bud bowl” beads. Yeah, I’m all class.
So, to recap for the night:
Beer pong table: 0
Chud: eleventy billion
Titties: 0
Post Script (oooh, how pretentious i spelled it out!), I did not in fact "Army crawl" home, no one would let me. Though I have been told that it was debated to throw me in the bed of a truck and laugh as I lolled about as they drove home. lucky for me, the opted for letting me in the passenger seat. Or so I was told.
19 January 2008
... and never brought to light.
So I am slowly emerging from my annual cycle of drunkenness which I call my “hazy shade of winter”. Around this time every year I, for some odd reason, crawl into many many bottles and hide out there for about a month. Destructive? Perhaps. Fun? Oh hell yes. Well, from what I remember anyhow.
So, I got sick Christmas day, and not the brown bottle flu type sick. This was some traveling misery bug that started somewhere in my lungs and then for the next 2 weeks worked its way up and down my head/respiratory system. Come New Year’s Eve I had smoked one cigarette and drank two beers since Christmas Eve/Day respectively.
New Year’s Eve was spent at a bar that I personally think is less than lackluster, however, I had a bunch of friends there and really, anytime you can walk into any bar and know 70% of the people is always a good thing. However, the service sucked, the price was horrible yet I somehow managed to find a purple cowboy hat that was a few sizes too small and thusly rocked it, albeit at a jaunty angle. Cuz, well, that’s how I roll. Also, at the end of the night I was calling competing cab companies to see who would get to the bar first so as to save me a walk. I know not who won, as I left with a lovely woman who had her boyfriend in the backseat. Anyhow, I awoke to some nasty voicemails from some cab companies. Fuck em, they’re a bunch of rip off artists anyhow.
So, I was watching a TV show earlier in which there were statistics about rape, and rape victims. This got my blood boiling. It hits a special place in my brain and makes me want to commit many many interstate crimes which would lead to a federal case in which I’d have to plead long term temporary insanity due to the vile and psychotic act perpetrated on a loved one. The sad thing is, given the circumstances, I’m sure I’d be found not guilty. However, without going into trust defying horrific detail, I got to thinking about things that get me that mad. There are several things that get me doghammering mad, but only two that get me blood boiling mad.
So, now for my list of shit that gets me going:
5. People who vote for a candidate based on their stance on abortion. I’m sorry, but I thought this was decided on by the supreme court… THUS MAKING IT LEGAL PRECEDENT! Hey, asshole, why not vote based on their feelings on Brown v. Board of Education, or better yet, Miranda v. Arizona. They all have the same chance of being overturned as Roe v. Wade.
T4. Underground Comedy Movie/Michael Moore. Both are fake, not worth watching, and chronically over-hyped. You will find yourself yelling “cut!” in the middle of scenes and then crying in your pillow at night for subjecting your eyeballs to the horrors that be. Yeah, this critique works for both the aforementioned movie and the aforementioned rabble rousing neo lib.
3. unions. I think I have covered this one whole heartedly.
And now, for the blood boiling mad makers:
2. When I hear Nickleback’s “never again” I begin to get worked into a fervor. Without divulging any details which could be used against me, let us just say I had a couple of friends who got married. One decided to beat the other till she needed reconstructive surgery. SOMEONE beat him till he was unconscious for a month. With the baseball bat he tried to attack said SOMEONE with. I do not know who SOMEONE is… I only heard of this thirdhand.
1. Any tales of rape. I had a former ex, the previously mentioned loved one in the main post. She was a genius, and a beauty. The two things I needed in a woman. Unfortunately I couldn’t heal her pain, or comprehend it. Eventually she had to do what she had to do, and that didn’t involve me. I still think about her, and I still get insanely mad when I think about what happened to her. She confided in me one day, about the sheer brutality of the event. This was not your normal rape, this involved damn near attempted murder/ assault with intent. One day my good buddy (her ex) had mentioned to me that she was a bit of a tease and most likely brought it on herself. I’m not entirely sure what happened next, though I know I flew into a blind rage and scared the ever loving shit out of him. She later explained to me that she had never told him the details. He never spoke to me again. Her, I miss.
So, I got sick Christmas day, and not the brown bottle flu type sick. This was some traveling misery bug that started somewhere in my lungs and then for the next 2 weeks worked its way up and down my head/respiratory system. Come New Year’s Eve I had smoked one cigarette and drank two beers since Christmas Eve/Day respectively.
New Year’s Eve was spent at a bar that I personally think is less than lackluster, however, I had a bunch of friends there and really, anytime you can walk into any bar and know 70% of the people is always a good thing. However, the service sucked, the price was horrible yet I somehow managed to find a purple cowboy hat that was a few sizes too small and thusly rocked it, albeit at a jaunty angle. Cuz, well, that’s how I roll. Also, at the end of the night I was calling competing cab companies to see who would get to the bar first so as to save me a walk. I know not who won, as I left with a lovely woman who had her boyfriend in the backseat. Anyhow, I awoke to some nasty voicemails from some cab companies. Fuck em, they’re a bunch of rip off artists anyhow.
So, I was watching a TV show earlier in which there were statistics about rape, and rape victims. This got my blood boiling. It hits a special place in my brain and makes me want to commit many many interstate crimes which would lead to a federal case in which I’d have to plead long term temporary insanity due to the vile and psychotic act perpetrated on a loved one. The sad thing is, given the circumstances, I’m sure I’d be found not guilty. However, without going into trust defying horrific detail, I got to thinking about things that get me that mad. There are several things that get me doghammering mad, but only two that get me blood boiling mad.
So, now for my list of shit that gets me going:
5. People who vote for a candidate based on their stance on abortion. I’m sorry, but I thought this was decided on by the supreme court… THUS MAKING IT LEGAL PRECEDENT! Hey, asshole, why not vote based on their feelings on Brown v. Board of Education, or better yet, Miranda v. Arizona. They all have the same chance of being overturned as Roe v. Wade.
T4. Underground Comedy Movie/Michael Moore. Both are fake, not worth watching, and chronically over-hyped. You will find yourself yelling “cut!” in the middle of scenes and then crying in your pillow at night for subjecting your eyeballs to the horrors that be. Yeah, this critique works for both the aforementioned movie and the aforementioned rabble rousing neo lib.
3. unions. I think I have covered this one whole heartedly.
And now, for the blood boiling mad makers:
2. When I hear Nickleback’s “never again” I begin to get worked into a fervor. Without divulging any details which could be used against me, let us just say I had a couple of friends who got married. One decided to beat the other till she needed reconstructive surgery. SOMEONE beat him till he was unconscious for a month. With the baseball bat he tried to attack said SOMEONE with. I do not know who SOMEONE is… I only heard of this thirdhand.
1. Any tales of rape. I had a former ex, the previously mentioned loved one in the main post. She was a genius, and a beauty. The two things I needed in a woman. Unfortunately I couldn’t heal her pain, or comprehend it. Eventually she had to do what she had to do, and that didn’t involve me. I still think about her, and I still get insanely mad when I think about what happened to her. She confided in me one day, about the sheer brutality of the event. This was not your normal rape, this involved damn near attempted murder/ assault with intent. One day my good buddy (her ex) had mentioned to me that she was a bit of a tease and most likely brought it on herself. I’m not entirely sure what happened next, though I know I flew into a blind rage and scared the ever loving shit out of him. She later explained to me that she had never told him the details. He never spoke to me again. Her, I miss.
24 December 2007
wtf...
ever have one of those weeks where everytime you think you have some alone time to jerk off you are suddenly interrupted by seemingly important yet unimportant phone calls, people coming through the door, being at work, or dawson's creek? yeah, it's been one of those weeks.
anyhow, that's all i got. the power is back on after a 17 hour shortage, most of the bars in the area were closed tonight so it was a big cluster fuck at the one bar that was open. holy shit, it looked like prime dining time on a friday in that bitch, on a sunday, at 1230am...
for those of you i like, click this link:
great little christmas ditty a capella even.
for those of you i am morally ambivalent to click this link:
ahh science. the true path to... wtf? oh right. zoltan!
if you don't know where you stand with me, then this link is for you:
this might be NSFW. and by might, i mean is.
and for those looking for some holiday cheer:
merry christmas
come to think of it, if you think i like you, only click on the top link. the second pisses me off the more i watch it. Merry Christmas everyone.
anyhow, that's all i got. the power is back on after a 17 hour shortage, most of the bars in the area were closed tonight so it was a big cluster fuck at the one bar that was open. holy shit, it looked like prime dining time on a friday in that bitch, on a sunday, at 1230am...
for those of you i like, click this link:
great little christmas ditty a capella even.
for those of you i am morally ambivalent to click this link:
ahh science. the true path to... wtf? oh right. zoltan!
if you don't know where you stand with me, then this link is for you:
this might be NSFW. and by might, i mean is.
and for those looking for some holiday cheer:
merry christmas
come to think of it, if you think i like you, only click on the top link. the second pisses me off the more i watch it. Merry Christmas everyone.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
