Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Trick or Treat
In what has become an annual tradition in our neighborhood, all the families get together for pizza before trick or treating. This year we introduced beer (for the parents) into the equation with good results. The trick or treating turned into a bar crawl.
We got about two blocks from my house and I really had to take a leak. With people everywhere and a local fire truck, light ablazin, parked and handing out candy to the kids, there was little opportunity to sneak into the bushes.
Add to that the fact that taking a leak in the bushes might be generally frowned upon by the neighbors AND having your weiner out while little kids are running around the town is a recipe for disaster no matter how legitimate the reason. " I was just taking a piss" doesn't sound believable when it's in print in the local paper.
But I couldn't take it anymore, so I lagged behind everyone else, and casually made my way over near the bushes. In one swift motion, I stepped between two bushes and moved behind them. Well to my surprise, I found out where the neighborhood stormwater culvert is. My step behind the bush turned into my 4 foot fall into the detention basin. I exacted a perfect dive roll back up to my feet and scrambled up the embankment and resumed my position in the parade...grass stained and freaked out. A couple of seconds I heard a voice behind me..." I thought I was going to have to send the firemen in there after you"...apparantly I wasn't the last person in line. Embarassed and slightly scathed I trudged on.
Another couple of blocks I couldn't take it anymore. I told T " I really gotta go !". She said that she'd take the kids, that I should run home and to take the video camera with me. I slipped the camera onto hand and started home.
I had to go so badly that I couldn't run...I had to do a fast shuffle/speed walk. I got back onto my street, which was now completely empty of people and started toward my house. It was touch and go as to whether I would make it without pissing my pants. Then I came up to the bushes again. Half out of severe need and half out to prove a point to that bastard bush I decided to piss right there. Carefully and quickly I slipped into the bushes and carefully perched myself on the ledge of the basin. I craned my neck around to look and see if anyone was coming and as quickly as possible, which at this point was easy, unzipped and let it rip. Ahhhhhhhhh. So I was standing there relieved, looking around for anyone coming and all of a sudden I realized I was getting wet. SWEET JESUS !
I looked down in the pitch dark and realized that the video camera strap was still around my hand. That hand that was holding my johnson and I was pissing directly INTO the video camera with the spashback spraying all over me.
After swearing, zipping up, and trying to dry off, I ran all the way back and rejoin everyone...making a meager attempt to dry off ( both myself and the camera) in the process.
When I got back, Mrs. Flick asked me to take a video of the kids. I picked up the piss stained camera, aimed it, turned it on. The video screen flickered, flickered again, then a message came up...DANGER DEW DETECTED.
Indeed.
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Monday, October 30, 2006
calling a spade a spade
Conversation while driving around the city hungover on Sunday morning.
B: Man I want some bacon. Where do you think that we can get some bacon around here.
R: Around here ? There only thing you're going to get in this neighborhood is a big plate of fucked in the ass.
B: Thats not going to work, I don't want a big plate of fucked in the ass, I want bacon.
R: What's the difference, it's all pork.
B: Man I want some bacon. Where do you think that we can get some bacon around here.
R: Around here ? There only thing you're going to get in this neighborhood is a big plate of fucked in the ass.
B: Thats not going to work, I don't want a big plate of fucked in the ass, I want bacon.
R: What's the difference, it's all pork.
Saturday, October 28, 2006
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Big Jonny Rules
If you've ever clicked on the link I set up to Drunk Cyclist, you know all about Big Jonny. And if you haven't been over there, I suggest you get off your ass and check it out now...you're missing out on the fun.
DRUNK CYCLIST LINK
In any case, around a month or so ago Big Jonny was hit by a car while out on a ride and he's been spending the better part of his time recovering. In the meantime he's been out of work.
He's not one for charity. But then again, I'm not one for taking shit for free. Point is...this guys been providing fun and porn since before fun and porn was cool. If you're someone who's been heading over and enjoying drunkcyclist.com it's time for you to step up and show your appreciation.
Get yourself a DC shirt, hat, or beer coozie. Everything is on sale and priced to go. This of this as an early version of the Jerry Lewis telethon...but with a drunk mountain biker instead of a kid in a little kid in a wheelchair.
GO HERE
www.drunkcyclist.com
And I'm out until Monday. Big family wedding this weekend. Should be good fodder for posts next week. I'm bringing the recorder with me and interviewing drunks.
Have a safe weekend.
DRUNK CYCLIST LINK
In any case, around a month or so ago Big Jonny was hit by a car while out on a ride and he's been spending the better part of his time recovering. In the meantime he's been out of work.
He's not one for charity. But then again, I'm not one for taking shit for free. Point is...this guys been providing fun and porn since before fun and porn was cool. If you're someone who's been heading over and enjoying drunkcyclist.com it's time for you to step up and show your appreciation.
Get yourself a DC shirt, hat, or beer coozie. Everything is on sale and priced to go. This of this as an early version of the Jerry Lewis telethon...but with a drunk mountain biker instead of a kid in a little kid in a wheelchair.
GO HERE
www.drunkcyclist.com
And I'm out until Monday. Big family wedding this weekend. Should be good fodder for posts next week. I'm bringing the recorder with me and interviewing drunks.
Have a safe weekend.
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
problem solving
I've always been convinved that all the worlds problems* could be solved if you just had the right forum for dialogue. The UN is a nice effort, but they're lacking a few things...mainly beer and a big screen TV. If you put men in a room with booze and sports they can usually come to a mutually agreed upon conclussion. Last night's conversation is a perfect example...
B: I think more grand slams are hit per opportunity then home runs hit at bat, because pitchers don't have the option of walking the batter
R: Except for Bonds. I've seen them walk Bonds with the bases loaded just to limit the damage to one run.
B: You mean pitch to the outside or intentionally walk ?
R: Intentionally.
B: Get the fuck outta here.
R: Seriously. I think it's been done more than once.
B: Jeeze. If you're going to do that why not just bean him. I mean if you're going to give him the base why not throw at his giant head.
R: You should throw at his dick. That would get his attention.
B: With Bonds, if you threw it at his crotch, he'd probably just whip it out and hit a home run with his dick.
R: OK here's the deal ...if you hit a home run with you dick you go immediately into the Hall of Fame.
B: RIGHT ! You go around the bases and when you get to home, they're waiting for you there and you get innagurated right on the spot.
R: No, no, no...HERE is the deal. If you hit a home run with your dick you get to LIVE in the hall of fame.
B: So let me get this straight. Bonds is up. The pitcher throws at his dick. He whips it out and hits it out of the park with his penis...and he gets to LIVE in the Hall of Fame. I like it ! Perfect. I agree.
R: And if its a grand slam, they just rename the place from the Hall of Fame the Hall of Bond's Home Run Hitting Dick.
B: Word.
* ( by solving the worlds problems I mean, you know, the problems between men. You could have 100 big screen TV and 1000 cases of beer, and you're still not going to figure out why you get laid less when after marriage or any of the other crazy shit that women do)
B: I think more grand slams are hit per opportunity then home runs hit at bat, because pitchers don't have the option of walking the batter
R: Except for Bonds. I've seen them walk Bonds with the bases loaded just to limit the damage to one run.
B: You mean pitch to the outside or intentionally walk ?
R: Intentionally.
B: Get the fuck outta here.
R: Seriously. I think it's been done more than once.
B: Jeeze. If you're going to do that why not just bean him. I mean if you're going to give him the base why not throw at his giant head.
R: You should throw at his dick. That would get his attention.
B: With Bonds, if you threw it at his crotch, he'd probably just whip it out and hit a home run with his dick.
R: OK here's the deal ...if you hit a home run with you dick you go immediately into the Hall of Fame.
B: RIGHT ! You go around the bases and when you get to home, they're waiting for you there and you get innagurated right on the spot.
R: No, no, no...HERE is the deal. If you hit a home run with your dick you get to LIVE in the hall of fame.
B: So let me get this straight. Bonds is up. The pitcher throws at his dick. He whips it out and hits it out of the park with his penis...and he gets to LIVE in the Hall of Fame. I like it ! Perfect. I agree.
R: And if its a grand slam, they just rename the place from the Hall of Fame the Hall of Bond's Home Run Hitting Dick.
B: Word.
* ( by solving the worlds problems I mean, you know, the problems between men. You could have 100 big screen TV and 1000 cases of beer, and you're still not going to figure out why you get laid less when after marriage or any of the other crazy shit that women do)
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Sigmund and the Sea Monsters
When I drove in this morning a co-worked had a bunch of brush and plants in the back of his truck that gave me a total flashback. The stuff looked just like Sigmund from Sigmund and the Sea Monsters and I was thrown back to Saturday mornings as a little kid.
We were an ABC family. As most lower middle class families in the early 70's we had a black and white TV set with rabbit ears...you know the kind of TV where the plastic knob would eventually break off and you'd have to change the channels with a pair of pliars. So at the time, WPVI channel 6 out of Philadelpia put out the strongest signal and between the picture clarity and nobody wanting to go look for pliars, our TV was usually on channel 6..ABC.
As kids this meant a steady Saturday morning diet of Hong Kong Phooey, Buggs Bunny ( the cool unedited ones), Super Friends ( totally awesome), Captain Caveman, and of course the Scooby Doo Laff Olympics. You could rip through a box of Cherrios before American Bandstand would come on signaling that it was time for you to go outside to play and not return until the streetlights came on.
But the thing that struck me today was something completely different. Was I realized today, and what I suspect every one of our parents had to realize, was that Sid and Marty Krofft must have been smoking an enormous ammount of dope. Is it possible that Sid and Marty Krofft was the pen name of Cheech and Chong. I'm not saying it's true, I'm just posing the question.
Think about this line up.
H.R. Puff and Stuff.....PUFF !?!?! PUFF'N STUFF ?!?!? Maybe this stuff was just so obvious I saw right through it.
The Bugaloos
Don't know anything about these guys. I think they were on NBC which, until my dad finally sprung for a rooftop antenna, excluded them from my personal lineup.
Lidsville...only three things you need to know.
1) The title was Lidsville
2) The premise was some dude cruising around in a world of giant hat creatures
3) Charles Nelson Reilly
Can anyone say Magic Mushrooms ?
Then we hit the meat of the line-up. 1973 to 1975 were my main viewing years and they coincided with Sid and Marty's finest work.
Sigmund and the Sea Monster which brought a little bit of the California surf culture into the homes of east coast kids.
A little known fact is that Sigmund was played by the late great Billy Barty, who would go on to appear in numerous Krofft shows and become, perhaps, the best know little person actor ever.
Land of the Lost.
Sleestacks, T-Rex, Chocka...come on man. This goes in the Saturday morning hall of fame. Name one show on TV today that comes close.
And if there's a guy in his 30's who claims he never hand a impure thought about Holly as a young boy, he's lying. Word.
Far Out Space Nuts and the Lost Saucer
The next two offerings get increasingly less reflective of the 70's counter culture and most opportunistic of the outter space facination of the Star Wars boom. But while less trippy, they're no less bizarre. Both take place on a spaceship and share perhaps the cheesiest most poorly produced special effect of their day. If that wasn't enough the first show starred John Denver ( aka Gilligan) and the second starred Ruth Buzzi and Jim Nabors and some dude in a really really bad costume that had him half dog and half horse called "The Dorse". Talk about a bad trip.
* I was going to post a picture of The Dorse, but Sid and Marty were so embarassed that they've bought up all images and likenesses of the Dorse and there are non to be found on the internet or otherwise.
In general, I think the Krofft offerings were reflective of the transitional culture that was the 70's. Starting with the blatantly trippy Puff and Stuff in 1970....and slowly evolving, as did the culture of that time, into a more mainstream, conventional, and sadly, more corporate existance...but without ever completly losing its psychedelic lilt ( Ruth Buzzi and Jim Nabors...come on...you know that was hatched after someone found an old bag of something in a kitchen drawer).
Never was that transformation more reflective in their one last Saturday morning offering for kids. The sad but true
Bay City Rollers Show
We were an ABC family. As most lower middle class families in the early 70's we had a black and white TV set with rabbit ears...you know the kind of TV where the plastic knob would eventually break off and you'd have to change the channels with a pair of pliars. So at the time, WPVI channel 6 out of Philadelpia put out the strongest signal and between the picture clarity and nobody wanting to go look for pliars, our TV was usually on channel 6..ABC.
As kids this meant a steady Saturday morning diet of Hong Kong Phooey, Buggs Bunny ( the cool unedited ones), Super Friends ( totally awesome), Captain Caveman, and of course the Scooby Doo Laff Olympics. You could rip through a box of Cherrios before American Bandstand would come on signaling that it was time for you to go outside to play and not return until the streetlights came on.
But the thing that struck me today was something completely different. Was I realized today, and what I suspect every one of our parents had to realize, was that Sid and Marty Krofft must have been smoking an enormous ammount of dope. Is it possible that Sid and Marty Krofft was the pen name of Cheech and Chong. I'm not saying it's true, I'm just posing the question.
Think about this line up.
H.R. Puff and Stuff.....PUFF !?!?! PUFF'N STUFF ?!?!? Maybe this stuff was just so obvious I saw right through it.
The Bugaloos
Don't know anything about these guys. I think they were on NBC which, until my dad finally sprung for a rooftop antenna, excluded them from my personal lineup.
Lidsville...only three things you need to know.
1) The title was Lidsville
2) The premise was some dude cruising around in a world of giant hat creatures
3) Charles Nelson Reilly
Can anyone say Magic Mushrooms ?
Then we hit the meat of the line-up. 1973 to 1975 were my main viewing years and they coincided with Sid and Marty's finest work.
Sigmund and the Sea Monster which brought a little bit of the California surf culture into the homes of east coast kids.
A little known fact is that Sigmund was played by the late great Billy Barty, who would go on to appear in numerous Krofft shows and become, perhaps, the best know little person actor ever.
Land of the Lost.
Sleestacks, T-Rex, Chocka...come on man. This goes in the Saturday morning hall of fame. Name one show on TV today that comes close.
And if there's a guy in his 30's who claims he never hand a impure thought about Holly as a young boy, he's lying. Word.
Far Out Space Nuts and the Lost Saucer
The next two offerings get increasingly less reflective of the 70's counter culture and most opportunistic of the outter space facination of the Star Wars boom. But while less trippy, they're no less bizarre. Both take place on a spaceship and share perhaps the cheesiest most poorly produced special effect of their day. If that wasn't enough the first show starred John Denver ( aka Gilligan) and the second starred Ruth Buzzi and Jim Nabors and some dude in a really really bad costume that had him half dog and half horse called "The Dorse". Talk about a bad trip.
* I was going to post a picture of The Dorse, but Sid and Marty were so embarassed that they've bought up all images and likenesses of the Dorse and there are non to be found on the internet or otherwise.
In general, I think the Krofft offerings were reflective of the transitional culture that was the 70's. Starting with the blatantly trippy Puff and Stuff in 1970....and slowly evolving, as did the culture of that time, into a more mainstream, conventional, and sadly, more corporate existance...but without ever completly losing its psychedelic lilt ( Ruth Buzzi and Jim Nabors...come on...you know that was hatched after someone found an old bag of something in a kitchen drawer).
Never was that transformation more reflective in their one last Saturday morning offering for kids. The sad but true
Bay City Rollers Show
Monday, October 23, 2006
Write what you know
Having a bit of writer's block I asked a friend who understands such things what I should do.
" You should go back to the basics. Write about personal experiences.", he advised.
" But what if all your experiences are pretty much limited to tragic incidents with poop ?"
" Write what you know !"
So to that end I offer of the following story.
I had graduated college a year ahead of my friends and my girlfriend. So my typical week would entail getting off of work on Friday, driving the 5 hours back to college and getting there in time for last call. I'd stay all the way until the crack of dawn on Monday morning and then drive back in time to arrive for work Monday morning. It was a very tight timeframe, but I had an organized schedule and so long as I stayed on track I never had any problems. That was, until Superbowl Sunday.
On Superbowl Sunday, instead of the quiet dinner with my girlfriend and early to bed as was prescribed...I spent the night eating mexican food, drinking bucketsfull of cheap beer, and screaming at the television set. Instead of waking up early, having a nice breakfast, getting myself organized and being sent off with a kiss...I woke up 20 minutes late, still drunk, and ran out the door pulling on my pants.
I hopped into the car and set off as fast as I could, stopping just breifly on the edge of town to get myself some gas and a giant mug of coffee. I needed to make good time but to make matters worse, it was a particularly blustery January morning. Tempatures were in the teens and the wind was howling. This was pre-dawn so until the sun came up I was faced with icy roads. Sqinting through bloodshot eyes I nagivated the roads as best I could and the sun came up as I hit the Turnpike and headed east.
It's 34 miles between the exit where I would get onto the Turnpike and the next exit east. That's the longest stretch between any two exits on the Turnpike. I happen to know this little factoid because 1 mile into my trip the beer, the mexican food, the yelling, and the coffee all formed a perfect storm in my colon.
As many of you know, if you've spent any time drinking cheap beer and eating burritos, when those two items come in contact with coffee ( black no sugar) it's the gastrointestinal equivalent of fertilizer and deisel fuel. And the last 3 feet of your ass plumbing is the federal building parking garage.
I immediately went into DEFON 4 trying to come up with an escape plan. How long until the next exit. I checked the slip. Oh sweet Jesus 33 miles. No way. How long till the next rest stop...no rest stops for 50 miles. Maybe I can hold it.....the gurgling in my gut answer that question. OK, maybe if I can find a break in the median strip I can pull a U-turn and get back to the last toll house...great plan. For the next 5 miles....no break in the median strip. OK, that does it, I'm going to have to just pull off the side of the road and take a shit in the woods.
I drove another 3 miles before I could find a big enough shoulder on the side of the road at an emergency pull off. I dug around through the trash in the car and found myself a couple of old napkins and hopped out.
Outside of the car I realized that I may not have picked the greatest spot. At this emergency pull off there was plenty of paved area for a truck to park and there was a call box, but there really wasn't anything else. The were trees as far as the eye could see, but the road was elevated and all the woods were on the other side of the median strip and 30 feet down. There really wasn't any shelter.
This is close to what I'm talking about. The slope here isn't quite as steep..but you get the idea.
So with much embarassment I did the best I could. I climbed over the guiderail, grabbed onto the freezing cold steel with one hand and started undoing my pants with the other hand. My hope was that the guiderail would provide sort of a shelter to hide behind. I was wrong. No sooner did I step over the railing then people started beeping and pointing and laughing as the drove by. Dammit.
This is what I may have looked like if you drove by.
I looked around and found a solution. While all the trees were growing from 30 foot down the ravine, there was one small tree that had somehow, miraculously, was growing right out of the sloped mecadam about 5 feet down the hill. With my pants now half way around my thighs, I reached back and got a hand on the tree. With acrobatic prowess I swung around the tree, grasping the 4 in trunk in both hands, put both feet on either side of the stump, squated down extending my derieere out over the ledge, and took care of some very very nasty business down the slope 25 feet below. AHHHHHHHHHH !
This young lady demostrates my flawless technique.
With great dexterity and using one hand I cleaned myself up and while unable to button or zip, pulled my pants up around my waist.
It was then I realized that while my immediate problem was taken care of....I was now 5 feet below the road grade....8 feet below the guiderail...and standing on a frozen hunk of pavement tilted at 45 degrees.
I swung myself back around the tree so that my back was on the trunk and I was facing uphill. This got me a couple of feet closer. I reached out and stretched as far as I could. I was three feet short.
I worked up some courage and tentatively learched at the base of the guiderail. But because I flinched when I did it I only made it 2 and a half of the three feet and my hand feel 6 inches short. Like a dog on ice and in complete panic I started flailing around as I started slide back down the slope. AGGGGHHHHHHHHH !!!!!! I let out a premordial scream and I grabbed back onto the tree with a deathgrip hug.
When my time for death comes, I hope that I will bravely face it with courage and dignity. But there was no way that i was going to fall 30 to my death and be found half frozen, with my pants half down, laying in a pile of my own diarrhea. Even I have standards.
I stayed there for what seemed like an eternity until my heart rate came down and until I just couldn't stand the cold anymore. I swung back around the tree again and steadied myself. This time, with complete conviction and dedication to the effort, I leapt out and grabbed the guardrail.
I pulled myself over the top, got in the car, and continued on my way.
I got to work 30 mintues late. But with some lessons well learned.
" You should go back to the basics. Write about personal experiences.", he advised.
" But what if all your experiences are pretty much limited to tragic incidents with poop ?"
" Write what you know !"
So to that end I offer of the following story.
I had graduated college a year ahead of my friends and my girlfriend. So my typical week would entail getting off of work on Friday, driving the 5 hours back to college and getting there in time for last call. I'd stay all the way until the crack of dawn on Monday morning and then drive back in time to arrive for work Monday morning. It was a very tight timeframe, but I had an organized schedule and so long as I stayed on track I never had any problems. That was, until Superbowl Sunday.
On Superbowl Sunday, instead of the quiet dinner with my girlfriend and early to bed as was prescribed...I spent the night eating mexican food, drinking bucketsfull of cheap beer, and screaming at the television set. Instead of waking up early, having a nice breakfast, getting myself organized and being sent off with a kiss...I woke up 20 minutes late, still drunk, and ran out the door pulling on my pants.
I hopped into the car and set off as fast as I could, stopping just breifly on the edge of town to get myself some gas and a giant mug of coffee. I needed to make good time but to make matters worse, it was a particularly blustery January morning. Tempatures were in the teens and the wind was howling. This was pre-dawn so until the sun came up I was faced with icy roads. Sqinting through bloodshot eyes I nagivated the roads as best I could and the sun came up as I hit the Turnpike and headed east.
It's 34 miles between the exit where I would get onto the Turnpike and the next exit east. That's the longest stretch between any two exits on the Turnpike. I happen to know this little factoid because 1 mile into my trip the beer, the mexican food, the yelling, and the coffee all formed a perfect storm in my colon.
As many of you know, if you've spent any time drinking cheap beer and eating burritos, when those two items come in contact with coffee ( black no sugar) it's the gastrointestinal equivalent of fertilizer and deisel fuel. And the last 3 feet of your ass plumbing is the federal building parking garage.
I immediately went into DEFON 4 trying to come up with an escape plan. How long until the next exit. I checked the slip. Oh sweet Jesus 33 miles. No way. How long till the next rest stop...no rest stops for 50 miles. Maybe I can hold it.....the gurgling in my gut answer that question. OK, maybe if I can find a break in the median strip I can pull a U-turn and get back to the last toll house...great plan. For the next 5 miles....no break in the median strip. OK, that does it, I'm going to have to just pull off the side of the road and take a shit in the woods.
I drove another 3 miles before I could find a big enough shoulder on the side of the road at an emergency pull off. I dug around through the trash in the car and found myself a couple of old napkins and hopped out.
Outside of the car I realized that I may not have picked the greatest spot. At this emergency pull off there was plenty of paved area for a truck to park and there was a call box, but there really wasn't anything else. The were trees as far as the eye could see, but the road was elevated and all the woods were on the other side of the median strip and 30 feet down. There really wasn't any shelter.
This is close to what I'm talking about. The slope here isn't quite as steep..but you get the idea.
So with much embarassment I did the best I could. I climbed over the guiderail, grabbed onto the freezing cold steel with one hand and started undoing my pants with the other hand. My hope was that the guiderail would provide sort of a shelter to hide behind. I was wrong. No sooner did I step over the railing then people started beeping and pointing and laughing as the drove by. Dammit.
This is what I may have looked like if you drove by.
I looked around and found a solution. While all the trees were growing from 30 foot down the ravine, there was one small tree that had somehow, miraculously, was growing right out of the sloped mecadam about 5 feet down the hill. With my pants now half way around my thighs, I reached back and got a hand on the tree. With acrobatic prowess I swung around the tree, grasping the 4 in trunk in both hands, put both feet on either side of the stump, squated down extending my derieere out over the ledge, and took care of some very very nasty business down the slope 25 feet below. AHHHHHHHHHH !
This young lady demostrates my flawless technique.
With great dexterity and using one hand I cleaned myself up and while unable to button or zip, pulled my pants up around my waist.
It was then I realized that while my immediate problem was taken care of....I was now 5 feet below the road grade....8 feet below the guiderail...and standing on a frozen hunk of pavement tilted at 45 degrees.
I swung myself back around the tree so that my back was on the trunk and I was facing uphill. This got me a couple of feet closer. I reached out and stretched as far as I could. I was three feet short.
I worked up some courage and tentatively learched at the base of the guiderail. But because I flinched when I did it I only made it 2 and a half of the three feet and my hand feel 6 inches short. Like a dog on ice and in complete panic I started flailing around as I started slide back down the slope. AGGGGHHHHHHHHH !!!!!! I let out a premordial scream and I grabbed back onto the tree with a deathgrip hug.
When my time for death comes, I hope that I will bravely face it with courage and dignity. But there was no way that i was going to fall 30 to my death and be found half frozen, with my pants half down, laying in a pile of my own diarrhea. Even I have standards.
I stayed there for what seemed like an eternity until my heart rate came down and until I just couldn't stand the cold anymore. I swung back around the tree again and steadied myself. This time, with complete conviction and dedication to the effort, I leapt out and grabbed the guardrail.
I pulled myself over the top, got in the car, and continued on my way.
I got to work 30 mintues late. But with some lessons well learned.
Friday, October 20, 2006
Flick on Vacation
I'm off to Atlantic City then planning a solid 3 day drinking bender.
I will return Monday and have three stories ready already for next week.
So have a good weekend and I'll catch up with you on Monday.
I will return Monday and have three stories ready already for next week.
So have a good weekend and I'll catch up with you on Monday.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
not to get political
I saw this in the news this morning...
WEST PALM BEACH, Fla. - Mark Foley plans to reveal the name of a clergyman he says abused him as a teenager, a move his attorney said would deflate claims the former congressman fabricated the allegations as an excuse for sending sexually explicit e-mails to teenage pages.
The first thing that I thought was, "so fucking what".
Why does this douche keep talking ? Who's advising this guy ? I mean, isn't there any shame ? It would seem apparently obvious to me that if you get yourself in this situation, the best course of action is to shut up...and whereever possible hide. Be remorseful and then go away for a while.
The Gov. of NJ had it right. Say "I'm gay and I wuit", disappear, come back with a book deal, and rake in the cash.
I think most dudes can almost forgive having a belt or two and flirting with a young piece of ass ( not me of course, I'm appalled)...but this blathering on is intolerable.
Anyway, this post is going nowhere so I'll leave you with this.
WEST PALM BEACH, Fla. - Mark Foley plans to reveal the name of a clergyman he says abused him as a teenager, a move his attorney said would deflate claims the former congressman fabricated the allegations as an excuse for sending sexually explicit e-mails to teenage pages.
The first thing that I thought was, "so fucking what".
Why does this douche keep talking ? Who's advising this guy ? I mean, isn't there any shame ? It would seem apparently obvious to me that if you get yourself in this situation, the best course of action is to shut up...and whereever possible hide. Be remorseful and then go away for a while.
The Gov. of NJ had it right. Say "I'm gay and I wuit", disappear, come back with a book deal, and rake in the cash.
I think most dudes can almost forgive having a belt or two and flirting with a young piece of ass ( not me of course, I'm appalled)...but this blathering on is intolerable.
Anyway, this post is going nowhere so I'll leave you with this.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
ok, it might be a drag...
....but it's my blog and I think this is cool.
I can't slam my dick in a drawer ( did I post that story yet ?) or crap in my pants every day, so sometimes I just have to post fluff.
Anyway, I think this is cool.
I can't slam my dick in a drawer ( did I post that story yet ?) or crap in my pants every day, so sometimes I just have to post fluff.
Anyway, I think this is cool.
Monday, October 16, 2006
up late
I was up all night playing in the 30K HORSE tourney.
I didn't win.
But I am tired. No post until after lunch.
I didn't win.
But I am tired. No post until after lunch.
Friday, October 13, 2006
More El Doc-Tor
I don't know if you enjoyed the previously posted interview, but if you did I think you'll enjoy today's post. I didn't know exactly how to do this, but what I did was edit it down to four segments that you can listen to or download at your convenience. I'll also add a link on the right to the Bolt page where these are right now.
I have a little fun with the following descriptions, but please don't misinterpret that to be a mockery or any lack of respect. I'm blown away by these stories, by their person AND historical significance, and I find the Doc to be a fantastic story teller. I've made some edits to eliminate breaks and extraneous stuff, and to make the whole interview into smaller segments, but for the most parts it's "as recorded". I hope you enjoy them as much as I do.
I've also attached some photos and links that are relevant to each section.
Segment 1 - El Doc-Tor gets laid...and surprised. ( about 10 mins)
In this piece 17 year old Doc goes to Munich and meets a girl. I did a little research and the woman he talks about did exist. Here's some photos of both her and Ruby Keeler.
Get music codes at Bolt
Segment 2 - Was Hitler Jewish ( about 1 minute long)
This very short segment put this issue to rest
Get music codes at Bolt.
Segment 3 - My Grandfather was an anarchist ( about 10 mins)
Some of Doc's family history provides some insight into emmigration of Europeans at the turn of the century
Get music codes at Bolt
Segment 4 - Did a women write Genesis ( about 10 mins)
This provides an education on theology and the Higher Principle as well as a little bit of Homer...the other Homer.
Get music codes at Bolt.
Segment 5 - Winning the contest ( about 4 minutes)
This short little piece is actually how the interview started. It explains how Doc did a little flim-flim action to win himself a trip to Europe.
Get music codes at Bolt.
I have a little fun with the following descriptions, but please don't misinterpret that to be a mockery or any lack of respect. I'm blown away by these stories, by their person AND historical significance, and I find the Doc to be a fantastic story teller. I've made some edits to eliminate breaks and extraneous stuff, and to make the whole interview into smaller segments, but for the most parts it's "as recorded". I hope you enjoy them as much as I do.
I've also attached some photos and links that are relevant to each section.
Segment 1 - El Doc-Tor gets laid...and surprised. ( about 10 mins)
In this piece 17 year old Doc goes to Munich and meets a girl. I did a little research and the woman he talks about did exist. Here's some photos of both her and Ruby Keeler.
Get music codes at Bolt
Segment 2 - Was Hitler Jewish ( about 1 minute long)
This very short segment put this issue to rest
Get music codes at Bolt.
Segment 3 - My Grandfather was an anarchist ( about 10 mins)
Some of Doc's family history provides some insight into emmigration of Europeans at the turn of the century
Get music codes at Bolt
Segment 4 - Did a women write Genesis ( about 10 mins)
This provides an education on theology and the Higher Principle as well as a little bit of Homer...the other Homer.
Get music codes at Bolt.
Segment 5 - Winning the contest ( about 4 minutes)
This short little piece is actually how the interview started. It explains how Doc did a little flim-flim action to win himself a trip to Europe.
Get music codes at Bolt.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
interviewing El Doc-tor
For a while now I've been saying that I was going to interview a few people whom I find interesting. For one reason or another...laziness...awkwardness...whatever...I've just never done it.
Last night I figured, "why not". I threw a voice recorder in my pocket and I drove over to the chess club and sat down with El Doc-tor. An hour later I got more than I bargained for...and some of the best stories I've ever heard.
I'm trying to figure out how to edit and post this stuff and that going to take a while. In the meantime I did put together a 5 mintue clip that I think you'll get a kick out of.
For now, this is the only way that I can figure out how to post it.
Link fixed HERE
Get music codes at Bolt.
Last night I figured, "why not". I threw a voice recorder in my pocket and I drove over to the chess club and sat down with El Doc-tor. An hour later I got more than I bargained for...and some of the best stories I've ever heard.
I'm trying to figure out how to edit and post this stuff and that going to take a while. In the meantime I did put together a 5 mintue clip that I think you'll get a kick out of.
For now, this is the only way that I can figure out how to post it.
Link fixed HERE
Get music codes at Bolt.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
The shit heard round the world
Well that did it.
The dog dies this weekend.
I was just sitting here after a hard days work relaxing. The dog walked over between the back and me, looked up at me, then shit a huge pile of diarrhea all over the carpet.
I just spent the last 20 minutes cleaning up the smelliest pile of dog shit in the history of modern man. The fucking dog must have been eating squid or curry or something.
Anyway, this saturday I'm going to make the stupid thing a steak, walk it in the park, then take it over the the vets and have it put down.
And any of you bleeding heart PETA types have a problem with that, you can come get the dog and save it. Just drop me a note and I'll send you the address. You have 3 days.
The dog dies this weekend.
I was just sitting here after a hard days work relaxing. The dog walked over between the back and me, looked up at me, then shit a huge pile of diarrhea all over the carpet.
I just spent the last 20 minutes cleaning up the smelliest pile of dog shit in the history of modern man. The fucking dog must have been eating squid or curry or something.
Anyway, this saturday I'm going to make the stupid thing a steak, walk it in the park, then take it over the the vets and have it put down.
And any of you bleeding heart PETA types have a problem with that, you can come get the dog and save it. Just drop me a note and I'll send you the address. You have 3 days.
here is why my panties are in a wad
I get asked why I get so upset about the recent online gambling legislation.
Here's why.
2006
money into bank ( money out of bank)
Jan 25 ( 54.45)
Feb 0 ( 27.23)
Mar 231.53
Apr 0
May 50
June 191.88 (27.23)
July 277.85
Aug 449.10
Sep 688.84
Oct 414.35 (100)
2328.55 (208.92) for a tot of plus 2119.63 ytd
Yeah, it isn't going to make or break me. But my hobby is fun and it pays for my lunch and beer money. And you might note I seem to be getting either better or luckier or both as the year has gone on.
So I'm donating 10% of everything I make from this point on to whomever is running against Frist. That asshole.
Here's why.
2006
money into bank ( money out of bank)
Jan 25 ( 54.45)
Feb 0 ( 27.23)
Mar 231.53
Apr 0
May 50
June 191.88 (27.23)
July 277.85
Aug 449.10
Sep 688.84
Oct 414.35 (100)
2328.55 (208.92) for a tot of plus 2119.63 ytd
Yeah, it isn't going to make or break me. But my hobby is fun and it pays for my lunch and beer money. And you might note I seem to be getting either better or luckier or both as the year has gone on.
So I'm donating 10% of everything I make from this point on to whomever is running against Frist. That asshole.
Monday, October 09, 2006
a chill in the air
As the tempature drops and each day welcomes you with a brisk nip in the air, I get reminded of a story.
Mrs. Flick and I got married in November and that winter I started training more seriously on my bicycle than I ever had before. This meant doing a lot of long rides in winter weather.
One particular Decemmber Sunday I set out to meet some guys for a hard ride and the tempature dropped to below freezing. We ended up doing about 3 hours in the cold and when I got home I was a mess. I couldn't feel my hands nor my feet and whenever I tried to take a deep breath I'd cough as my lungs were filled down deep with the special kind of mucus you get from exercising in the cold.
I limped upstairs, disrobed and climbed into the shower. I turned on the shower as hot as I could tolerate and I stood there for what seemed like and hour suffering through the pins and needles as the feeling slowly returned to my extremidies.
After a while I started to return to normal except for the cough. By this time the bathroom has turned into a steam bath with the hot water running so long. The hot moist air actually helped my lungs and I started breathing in as deeply as I could.
Each breath would bring with it a little coughing fit that would clear some of the mucus. I soon realized that I could accelerate this process if, when I felt the cough coming on, I would exhale as quickly as I could and give a gutteral roar.
(inahale...then exhale) URRRRRRRGGHHHHHHHHHH...and then a series of grunting coughs HACK HACK HACK BLAHHHHHHH
( inhale..then exhale) URRRRGHHHHHHH.....HACK HACK BLAHHHHHH BLAHHHHH BLAHHH
thankfully the mucus was coming up in boatloads and I was feeling much better.
I also noticed that I could break the stuff up with a little smack of my chest with my fist.
inhale...exhale THUMP, SMACK....URGHHHHHHH....THUMP, SMACK, BLAHHHH BLAHHHH
inhale...exhale THUMP, SMACK....URGHHHHHHH....THUMP, SMACK, BLAHHHH BLAHHHH
inhale...exhale THUMP, SMACK....URGHHHHHHH....THUMP, SMACK, BLAHHHH BLAHHHH
It was totally working.
Then, in the middle of all this I heard a slight tapping on the bathroom door.
" Yes ?", I asked.
The door cracked open and Mrs. Flick peeked in, " Ummm..everything OK in there ?"
" OH YEAH ...GREAT !", I said enthusiastically.
" ummmm.....OK" and then the door started to close and then opened again, " hey, I hate to bother you, but can I ask you something ?"
" sure, what's up ?"
She stopped to choose her words carefully, " are you....ahhhh...are you masturbating in there ?"
" AM I WHAT ?!"
" I mean whatever is fine, but..."
" NO NO NO !!!!! NO I'm NOT I'M NOT. I SWEAR !!!"
" Hey fine, whatever, just want to make sure you were ok, that's all, nevermind"
" NO LISTEN ! SEE....."
click. and the door closed
I can't imagine what mental image should must have had of me in there...punching myself...screaming....wacking off....but I'm pretty sure, to this day, she doesn't quite buy my explination.
Mrs. Flick and I got married in November and that winter I started training more seriously on my bicycle than I ever had before. This meant doing a lot of long rides in winter weather.
One particular Decemmber Sunday I set out to meet some guys for a hard ride and the tempature dropped to below freezing. We ended up doing about 3 hours in the cold and when I got home I was a mess. I couldn't feel my hands nor my feet and whenever I tried to take a deep breath I'd cough as my lungs were filled down deep with the special kind of mucus you get from exercising in the cold.
I limped upstairs, disrobed and climbed into the shower. I turned on the shower as hot as I could tolerate and I stood there for what seemed like and hour suffering through the pins and needles as the feeling slowly returned to my extremidies.
After a while I started to return to normal except for the cough. By this time the bathroom has turned into a steam bath with the hot water running so long. The hot moist air actually helped my lungs and I started breathing in as deeply as I could.
Each breath would bring with it a little coughing fit that would clear some of the mucus. I soon realized that I could accelerate this process if, when I felt the cough coming on, I would exhale as quickly as I could and give a gutteral roar.
(inahale...then exhale) URRRRRRRGGHHHHHHHHHH...and then a series of grunting coughs HACK HACK HACK BLAHHHHHHH
( inhale..then exhale) URRRRGHHHHHHH.....HACK HACK BLAHHHHHH BLAHHHHH BLAHHH
thankfully the mucus was coming up in boatloads and I was feeling much better.
I also noticed that I could break the stuff up with a little smack of my chest with my fist.
inhale...exhale THUMP, SMACK....URGHHHHHHH....THUMP, SMACK, BLAHHHH BLAHHHH
inhale...exhale THUMP, SMACK....URGHHHHHHH....THUMP, SMACK, BLAHHHH BLAHHHH
inhale...exhale THUMP, SMACK....URGHHHHHHH....THUMP, SMACK, BLAHHHH BLAHHHH
It was totally working.
Then, in the middle of all this I heard a slight tapping on the bathroom door.
" Yes ?", I asked.
The door cracked open and Mrs. Flick peeked in, " Ummm..everything OK in there ?"
" OH YEAH ...GREAT !", I said enthusiastically.
" ummmm.....OK" and then the door started to close and then opened again, " hey, I hate to bother you, but can I ask you something ?"
" sure, what's up ?"
She stopped to choose her words carefully, " are you....ahhhh...are you masturbating in there ?"
" AM I WHAT ?!"
" I mean whatever is fine, but..."
" NO NO NO !!!!! NO I'm NOT I'M NOT. I SWEAR !!!"
" Hey fine, whatever, just want to make sure you were ok, that's all, nevermind"
" NO LISTEN ! SEE....."
click. and the door closed
I can't imagine what mental image should must have had of me in there...punching myself...screaming....wacking off....but I'm pretty sure, to this day, she doesn't quite buy my explination.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Rodney Mullen. Cooler than the other side of the pillow.
| I always see skateboard nimrods trying to do some basic trick over and over and over and over again...and they never hit it. They're always falling over and their boards fly all over the place. And it gets me wondering why the hell anyone would want to be a skateboarder longer than the 2 weeks that its novelty wears off...or until you get a drivers license? Well this goes a long way to explaining what the hell those guys are trying to do. I mean they're a long way off...but if this is where you eventually wind up, maybe all those hours in the Denny's parking lot are worth it. I also really dig how this guy hit these incredible sequences and you don't once see him celebrate or act surprised....he's cooler than the other side of the pillow. | |
yes, there are silly questions
" If I make a pot of coffee will anyone drink it ?"
Ok, let's get something straight, the answer to that question is always yes.
And not because people love coffee...they do. And will they drink it...they will.
The answer is yes because if you're asking.... YOU want coffee. So go ahead an make it. And I suspect it's because people don't want to 'waste' the coffee. Listen, coffee is water and grounds. Despite what Starbucks would lead you to believe, it aint that speical and it aint that expensive...espically the pencil shavings that serve as coffee in most office buildings.
You're at work, busting your ass...surfing porn..whatever. The least you can do is treat yourself to a cup-o-joe.
So if the question comes up in your head put it to the side, head back to the break room, and make yourself up a nice big pot.
Ok, let's get something straight, the answer to that question is always yes.
And not because people love coffee...they do. And will they drink it...they will.
The answer is yes because if you're asking.... YOU want coffee. So go ahead an make it. And I suspect it's because people don't want to 'waste' the coffee. Listen, coffee is water and grounds. Despite what Starbucks would lead you to believe, it aint that speical and it aint that expensive...espically the pencil shavings that serve as coffee in most office buildings.
You're at work, busting your ass...surfing porn..whatever. The least you can do is treat yourself to a cup-o-joe.
So if the question comes up in your head put it to the side, head back to the break room, and make yourself up a nice big pot.
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
blando
It was nice of Foley to announce yesterday that he was gay. Frankly I wasn't that surprised...the having sex with young boys sorta tipped me off.
But I'm sharp like that.
Sorry for the lack of material lately. I'm in a bit of a funk...not depressed or anything, just bland....got no juice. Maybe it's the change of the season, maybe its current events, maybe it's coming off a 15 day hard core drunken bender...who knows ?
Mostly when I try to come up with something interestingto say...live or online... I get that test pattern that used to appear on the screen in the old days ( you know like 1985) when TV stations used to go off the air.
MY BRAIN
And Bill says, "Lottery: A tax on people who are bad at math."
But I'm sharp like that.
Sorry for the lack of material lately. I'm in a bit of a funk...not depressed or anything, just bland....got no juice. Maybe it's the change of the season, maybe its current events, maybe it's coming off a 15 day hard core drunken bender...who knows ?
Mostly when I try to come up with something interestingto say...live or online... I get that test pattern that used to appear on the screen in the old days ( you know like 1985) when TV stations used to go off the air.
MY BRAIN
And Bill says, "Lottery: A tax on people who are bad at math."
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
The news sucks
By now you've all heard of the horrible incident that occurred in Lancaster County.
My only comment on the matter is that the news outlets make me want to puke. They're almost excited about this occurring. Locally, nationally, internationally...they've decended on Lancaster County like sharks in a feeding frenzy.
Sadly the case has some ties to my place of employment and they've started calling here. They want to parse any fact, related or unrelated, in an attempt to get "news"...to have that latest exclusive bit of useless information...to feed into the grind of sorrow and misery.
So I couldn't take it. I told the last reporter what I thought. So if you hear on the news that XXXXX officials has no comment they're lying. I had a comment.....I told him to go fuck himself.
My only comment on the matter is that the news outlets make me want to puke. They're almost excited about this occurring. Locally, nationally, internationally...they've decended on Lancaster County like sharks in a feeding frenzy.
Sadly the case has some ties to my place of employment and they've started calling here. They want to parse any fact, related or unrelated, in an attempt to get "news"...to have that latest exclusive bit of useless information...to feed into the grind of sorrow and misery.
So I couldn't take it. I told the last reporter what I thought. So if you hear on the news that XXXXX officials has no comment they're lying. I had a comment.....I told him to go fuck himself.
Monday, October 02, 2006
Mrs. Frist, bolt down your TV
Thanks to Bill Frist being the biggest asshole in the world, internet poker just got thrown into termoil.
You can google your own news link, but the long and short is that he attached an unrelated ammendment to the Safe Ports Bill.
And Oh!, BT fucking W, the ammendment that WAS supposed to go on that bill to make raillines safer had to be bumped. I can't wait for a fucking train to blow up and land on top of Frist's SUV. ASSHOLE.
So I spend part of the day trying to get all my money out of the poker rooms before the whole thing falls apart. I'm been successful in all the accounts except one.
If I can't get my money out of that account I am driving over to Frist's house, walking in his front door, and walking out with his TV. And it better be a HDTV too, or I'm taking his TiVo too.
Hey Bill, go kill some more kittens.
ASSHOLE.
You can google your own news link, but the long and short is that he attached an unrelated ammendment to the Safe Ports Bill.
And Oh!, BT fucking W, the ammendment that WAS supposed to go on that bill to make raillines safer had to be bumped. I can't wait for a fucking train to blow up and land on top of Frist's SUV. ASSHOLE.
So I spend part of the day trying to get all my money out of the poker rooms before the whole thing falls apart. I'm been successful in all the accounts except one.
If I can't get my money out of that account I am driving over to Frist's house, walking in his front door, and walking out with his TV. And it better be a HDTV too, or I'm taking his TiVo too.
Hey Bill, go kill some more kittens.
ASSHOLE.
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