Everyone around here hunts. And they all are always asking everyone else about hunting... " Did you hunt... are you going to hunt... where do you hunt..." or its " this one time at hunting camp..."
For the non-hunters, like myself its quite an awkward and annoying time, because eventually the conversation comes around to you. When you admit that you're NOT a hunter and you're amongst hunters it can only go one of two bad ways. They either think that you don't approve or hunting and they start getting argumentative and defensive. The other option is they just think your a big deer humping pussy.
Its taken about 35 years, but I've finally figured out a means to coping with this issue. As soon as I see the conversation going that way I ask..
" When you shoot something, does it give you an erection ? Because the main thing that keeps from hunting is the fear that the rush of killing something will give me a boner and I'll spend the rest of my life associating sex with killing things....and that's a long dark road that I'm not quite ready to head down at this point in my life"
No one talks about hunting with me anymore.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Friday, October 16, 2009
how bout a Fresca ?
After a brief break I decided I'd give online poker another try.
This time however, I figured I'd waste all my time for goodness instead of badness. I've decided to donate half my winning for the next year to a small girl in Africa who's name I got from the local church.
Yesterday afternoon I won the girl a goat.
After a couple of vodkas last night, that was downgraded to a pair of sandals.
Hey, to a barefooted girl a pair of sandals is as good as a goat ! Anyway, what are you doing ?!
This time however, I figured I'd waste all my time for goodness instead of badness. I've decided to donate half my winning for the next year to a small girl in Africa who's name I got from the local church.
Yesterday afternoon I won the girl a goat.
After a couple of vodkas last night, that was downgraded to a pair of sandals.
Hey, to a barefooted girl a pair of sandals is as good as a goat ! Anyway, what are you doing ?!
Monday, October 12, 2009
couple of random thoughts
* Steven Wright has a joke where he says, " you know that feeling where you're leaning back in a chair...and you go a little too far and you start to tip over...and at the last minute you recover ?.....I feel like that all the time"
I just had that feeling after twice punching in the wrong security code for mac-card with one of the old ATMs where the card goes inside the machine and then eats it on the third mistake.
Of course the first millimeter where your ass was supposed to touch the toilet seat that was left up in the middle of the night always qualifies as well.
* I had a great discussion with a guy about the evolution of the nerf basketball hoops. Somehow, without the benefit of the internet, coaching, playgroups, or classroom aides, kids all across America figured out how to play basketball in their bedrooms. Amazingly enough the natural evolution of the game seemed to have occurred regardless of geographical location or economic background.
- It started with a half opened door making a space between the door itself and the wall of the closet, with any round object slightly smaller than the triangle formed would work.
- The upgrade was the coat hanger shaped in the form of a hoop, with a balled up pair of socks serving as the ball. The catch here was the attempt to affix the coat hanger to something, usually a doortop. Duct tape was the universal choice, but still then, with the weight of the socks always exceeding the tensile strength of the wire hangar, the rim needed constant attention.
- Eventually, that Christmas, someones Aunt would breakdown and you'd find yourself in the big time with a full on Nerf hoop-set. For the life of me I don't know why, but I have the guttural feeling of love for the nerf basketball that is evenly balanced by my disdain for the nerf rim. There must have been something about that rim suppressed that might necessitate hypno-therapy. Then again, maybe some things are left well enough alone.
Some people played standing up, others on knees. Acceptable forms of dribbling include both the palms up flat handed tap as well as holding the ball palms down with a simulated dribble. In either dribble case, a flinch or a pause meant that you lost your dribble and had to shoot or pass.....passing of course was achieve by throwing the ball against any wall and inciting a scrum.
There usually always was some sort of line of demarcation, sometimes officially enumerated, sometimes through loose, unspoken agreement, where the offensive player could take an uncontested shot. If Princeton funded a study of my childhood bedroom, I suspect they'd find that the universal shooting for shots taken at the far end of the second curtain rod was exactly 50% uncontested. That might go slightly up for kids over 11, but could be easily regulated by feinted punches to the groin or the random barking of incoherent insults.
* That nerf/hoop conversation lead the the curious case of how "Jingle Bells Batman Smells" made it East Coast to West Coast, North and South...with consistent lyrics, in just 10 short years from the TV series inception until my first recollection of the song in the winter of 1976. But perhaps that a blog post for another time.
I just had that feeling after twice punching in the wrong security code for mac-card with one of the old ATMs where the card goes inside the machine and then eats it on the third mistake.
Of course the first millimeter where your ass was supposed to touch the toilet seat that was left up in the middle of the night always qualifies as well.
* I had a great discussion with a guy about the evolution of the nerf basketball hoops. Somehow, without the benefit of the internet, coaching, playgroups, or classroom aides, kids all across America figured out how to play basketball in their bedrooms. Amazingly enough the natural evolution of the game seemed to have occurred regardless of geographical location or economic background.
- It started with a half opened door making a space between the door itself and the wall of the closet, with any round object slightly smaller than the triangle formed would work.
- The upgrade was the coat hanger shaped in the form of a hoop, with a balled up pair of socks serving as the ball. The catch here was the attempt to affix the coat hanger to something, usually a doortop. Duct tape was the universal choice, but still then, with the weight of the socks always exceeding the tensile strength of the wire hangar, the rim needed constant attention.
- Eventually, that Christmas, someones Aunt would breakdown and you'd find yourself in the big time with a full on Nerf hoop-set. For the life of me I don't know why, but I have the guttural feeling of love for the nerf basketball that is evenly balanced by my disdain for the nerf rim. There must have been something about that rim suppressed that might necessitate hypno-therapy. Then again, maybe some things are left well enough alone.
Some people played standing up, others on knees. Acceptable forms of dribbling include both the palms up flat handed tap as well as holding the ball palms down with a simulated dribble. In either dribble case, a flinch or a pause meant that you lost your dribble and had to shoot or pass.....passing of course was achieve by throwing the ball against any wall and inciting a scrum.
There usually always was some sort of line of demarcation, sometimes officially enumerated, sometimes through loose, unspoken agreement, where the offensive player could take an uncontested shot. If Princeton funded a study of my childhood bedroom, I suspect they'd find that the universal shooting for shots taken at the far end of the second curtain rod was exactly 50% uncontested. That might go slightly up for kids over 11, but could be easily regulated by feinted punches to the groin or the random barking of incoherent insults.
* That nerf/hoop conversation lead the the curious case of how "Jingle Bells Batman Smells" made it East Coast to West Coast, North and South...with consistent lyrics, in just 10 short years from the TV series inception until my first recollection of the song in the winter of 1976. But perhaps that a blog post for another time.
Friday, October 09, 2009
ABSURD
Here was the competition...
Denis Mukwege, a physician in war-torn Congo who opened a clinic to help rape victims.
Hu, a human rights activist and an outspoken critic of the Chinese government, was sentenced last year to a three-and-a-half-year prison term for "inciting subversion of state power" ahead of the Beijing Olympics.
Cordoba, who leads Colombians for Peace, an organization whose aim is to facilitate peace negotiations between the government and the country's leftist FARC guerrillas. She has been at the forefront of efforts to peacefully end her country's half-century-old conflict, which is rooted in deep social divisions.
bin Muhammad, a philosophy professor in Jordan who advocates interfaith dialogue in the Middle East, a region shot through with sectarian violence, and Samar. She currently leads the Afghanistan Independent Human Rights Commission and serves as the U.N. special envoy to Darfur.
Wei Jingsheng, who spent 17 years in Chinese prisons for urging reforms of China's communist system.
And the award went to OBAMA !?!?!?!...for....
"his extraordinary efforts to strengthen international diplomacy and cooperation between peoples."
REALLY ????!!!!
Listen, I voted for the guy. I was happy to have him in there instead of McCain, and would have given myself paper cuts of the scrotum if that's what it would have taken to get Bush out of office. But WTF has Obama accomplished in THIS country, let alone, in the efforts of world-wide peace ? Basically, in the 10 months the guys been if office he really hasn't done jack shit. Thats fine. But don't give the guy a cookie for it.
You think they'll present him with the award at Guantanamo, when he finally gets around to closing it ?
Denis Mukwege, a physician in war-torn Congo who opened a clinic to help rape victims.
Hu, a human rights activist and an outspoken critic of the Chinese government, was sentenced last year to a three-and-a-half-year prison term for "inciting subversion of state power" ahead of the Beijing Olympics.
Cordoba, who leads Colombians for Peace, an organization whose aim is to facilitate peace negotiations between the government and the country's leftist FARC guerrillas. She has been at the forefront of efforts to peacefully end her country's half-century-old conflict, which is rooted in deep social divisions.
bin Muhammad, a philosophy professor in Jordan who advocates interfaith dialogue in the Middle East, a region shot through with sectarian violence, and Samar. She currently leads the Afghanistan Independent Human Rights Commission and serves as the U.N. special envoy to Darfur.
Wei Jingsheng, who spent 17 years in Chinese prisons for urging reforms of China's communist system.
And the award went to OBAMA !?!?!?!...for....
"his extraordinary efforts to strengthen international diplomacy and cooperation between peoples."
REALLY ????!!!!
Listen, I voted for the guy. I was happy to have him in there instead of McCain, and would have given myself paper cuts of the scrotum if that's what it would have taken to get Bush out of office. But WTF has Obama accomplished in THIS country, let alone, in the efforts of world-wide peace ? Basically, in the 10 months the guys been if office he really hasn't done jack shit. Thats fine. But don't give the guy a cookie for it.
You think they'll present him with the award at Guantanamo, when he finally gets around to closing it ?
Thursday, October 08, 2009
words of wisdom
Whenever I get asked to fix someone's computer and the error message on the screen includes the phrase "....xxxxxx.dll " I preemptively smash my balls in a desk drawer and plan on having lunch delivered.
Wednesday, October 07, 2009
Sore subject
I'm sore every day.
One year, almost to the day, I decided to stop being a fat bastard. For one year, I've diligently exercised, I've lost a bunch of weight, I've taken better care of myself.
And for one full year, every day, I'm sore.
And I'm pretty f-ing sick of it.
Now to make matters worse, I did a 10 mile trail run a week ago while fighting off a cold and ended up spending 4 full days in bed.
Yesterday I went and did a light 3 mile jog ( mind you in the last 2 months I've completed a half-ironman, did well in a 3+ hour adventure race, muddled through a hard 10 mile off road run, and trained average of 12 hours a week)..anyway...I did a light 3 mile jog, I was winded, and I woke up today sore as hell.
Shit, I threw darts last night with the boy and my arm is sore.
So I'm starting to wonder if perhaps there's some environmental condition in my home that's slowly poisoning me, is there really what I have to look forward to for the next 30 years (or so) I have left on this planet ?
See I like being fit, but I don't remember every being this miserable when I was a drunk fat bastard.
One year, almost to the day, I decided to stop being a fat bastard. For one year, I've diligently exercised, I've lost a bunch of weight, I've taken better care of myself.
And for one full year, every day, I'm sore.
And I'm pretty f-ing sick of it.
Now to make matters worse, I did a 10 mile trail run a week ago while fighting off a cold and ended up spending 4 full days in bed.
Yesterday I went and did a light 3 mile jog ( mind you in the last 2 months I've completed a half-ironman, did well in a 3+ hour adventure race, muddled through a hard 10 mile off road run, and trained average of 12 hours a week)..anyway...I did a light 3 mile jog, I was winded, and I woke up today sore as hell.
Shit, I threw darts last night with the boy and my arm is sore.
So I'm starting to wonder if perhaps there's some environmental condition in my home that's slowly poisoning me, is there really what I have to look forward to for the next 30 years (or so) I have left on this planet ?
See I like being fit, but I don't remember every being this miserable when I was a drunk fat bastard.
Tuesday, October 06, 2009
Tyson
I watched the Mike Tyson documentary Tyson last night. The movie is very well done and I'd recommend it to non-fight fans as well as boxing enthusiasts.
The movie is a long form interview of present day Mike Tyson interspersed with fight footage, home movies, and interviews from the past. The movie isn't really at all about boxing, but rather a look at the evolution of Tyson as a man.
I think the thing that has always made Tyson a captivating character is the contrast of him as the most vicious and deadly powerful fighter in the ring against his childlike qualities outside of the ring.
Self-admittedly, Tyson has limited capabilities in dealing with the world, but this movie shows that he's hardly stupid. If anything he's overly self-aware and honest to a fault. While much of his behavior is inexcusable, taken in full context of his life's story, its at least understandable.
At 19 years old Mike Tyson was the greatest fighter in history. Period.
By 30, he was washed up.
Now 40, he has the tired reflective tone of a 80 year old.
And all through it, he's never lost the emotional weakness and vulnerability of a 12 year old boy.
I can't help but think of the parallels between Tyson and Michael Jackson...the difference, at least as shown in this movie, being Tyson's attempts to address his demons. At the end this 90 minute piece, you get the sense that he'll always be the underdog in that battle, but you still can't help yourself rooting for the champ.
The movie is a long form interview of present day Mike Tyson interspersed with fight footage, home movies, and interviews from the past. The movie isn't really at all about boxing, but rather a look at the evolution of Tyson as a man.
I think the thing that has always made Tyson a captivating character is the contrast of him as the most vicious and deadly powerful fighter in the ring against his childlike qualities outside of the ring.
Self-admittedly, Tyson has limited capabilities in dealing with the world, but this movie shows that he's hardly stupid. If anything he's overly self-aware and honest to a fault. While much of his behavior is inexcusable, taken in full context of his life's story, its at least understandable.
At 19 years old Mike Tyson was the greatest fighter in history. Period.
By 30, he was washed up.
Now 40, he has the tired reflective tone of a 80 year old.
And all through it, he's never lost the emotional weakness and vulnerability of a 12 year old boy.
I can't help but think of the parallels between Tyson and Michael Jackson...the difference, at least as shown in this movie, being Tyson's attempts to address his demons. At the end this 90 minute piece, you get the sense that he'll always be the underdog in that battle, but you still can't help yourself rooting for the champ.
Monday, October 05, 2009
cyclingnews - thumbs down
This is old news, but I've just gotten around to being pissed off enough to mention it. Cyclingnews.com redid their site and it sucks.
I had been a regular customer back when I was on dial-up and they were called Bill's Cycling Pages. At one time I was a paying advertiser on the site.
I've lived through a couple of site revamps without complaint, but this latest change is just terrible. And I'm not alone, their forum is filled with threads of people complaining. The site loads crappy, the results are difficult to find and mislabled, and its really cumbersome to navigate.
What I find most ponderous is the fact that despite everyone's displeasure, they're continuing to stick it out with this current format.
The only one that seems to really like the new format is Velonews.com , Their readership is up 30%.
I had been a regular customer back when I was on dial-up and they were called Bill's Cycling Pages. At one time I was a paying advertiser on the site.
I've lived through a couple of site revamps without complaint, but this latest change is just terrible. And I'm not alone, their forum is filled with threads of people complaining. The site loads crappy, the results are difficult to find and mislabled, and its really cumbersome to navigate.
What I find most ponderous is the fact that despite everyone's displeasure, they're continuing to stick it out with this current format.
The only one that seems to really like the new format is Velonews.com , Their readership is up 30%.
Tuesday, September 01, 2009
relationship...isn't that cute
ESPN reported that Leipheimer's relationship with Lance Armstrong had played a major role in his decision to sign with RadioShack
Friday, August 28, 2009
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Its over, start learning Mandarin
So sad I can't help laughing.
This is Sheila Jackson Lee, the Congresswoman who asked if the Mars rover could go over and take a look at where the astronauts planted the flag....who complained the Hurricanes were never named after African-Americans.... and who recently got popped for using public funds to attend the Michael Jackson memorial....
talking with ...
Greta Von Sustren...who's the only woman I've ever felt comfortable describing with the word 'douche'....
about S.J Lee talking on the phone at a public meeting ( I"m sure you've all seen the clip of that )
Anyway, you gotta check this out. Von Sustren uses the word " dis " a couple times, totally because she's talking to a black person. S.J.L. apparently hasn't been in touch with 'the people' in quite a while as she has no idea what "dis" means...and the two of them blather on in the most surreal way.
This is Sheila Jackson Lee, the Congresswoman who asked if the Mars rover could go over and take a look at where the astronauts planted the flag....who complained the Hurricanes were never named after African-Americans.... and who recently got popped for using public funds to attend the Michael Jackson memorial....
talking with ...
Greta Von Sustren...who's the only woman I've ever felt comfortable describing with the word 'douche'....
about S.J Lee talking on the phone at a public meeting ( I"m sure you've all seen the clip of that )
Anyway, you gotta check this out. Von Sustren uses the word " dis " a couple times, totally because she's talking to a black person. S.J.L. apparently hasn't been in touch with 'the people' in quite a while as she has no idea what "dis" means...and the two of them blather on in the most surreal way.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Who's going with me ?
GEORGE “THE ANIMAL” STEELE COMING TO CLIPPER MAGAZINE STADIUM
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
The no-holds barred wrestler famous for biting his opponents and eating turnbuckles is paying a visit to Clipper Magazine Stadium. George “The Animal” Steele will be a special guest for the Barnstormers’ game against the Bridgeport Bluefish on Aug. 26 at 7:05 p.m.
Steele, who was elected to the Professional Wrestling Hall of Fame in 2005, will be signing autographs, taking photos and throwing out a ceremonial first pitch. There will also be a meet and greet with fans in one of the stadium’s luxury boxes.
Steele retired as a full-time wrestler in 1989, although he has made cameo appearances through the years. During his heyday, he was best known for his flying hammerlock move and the Neanderthal persona he created as part of his act inside the ring. The Florida resident has a Master’s degree from Central Michigan and has dedicated his post-wrestling life to fighting dyslexia and Chrohn’s Disease.
Tickets are still available for this one-of-a-kind event. Just log onto www.lancasterbarnstormers.com, call 717-509-HITS or visit the Clipper Magazine Stadium box office during regular business hours.
Monday, August 17, 2009
weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
I took one too many sleeping pills and drank a beer last night.
Now I"m filling my gullet with coffee and letting them battle it out.
I've been in the paper like 7 days in a row now and not once has it been for assaulting someone. I'm saving that for keeping the streak alive.
Big meeting today at 1:30. Hopefully the sleeping pills, beer, and coffee will have sorted itself out by then. Its really hard to negotiate from a position of strength when you've passed out and shit yourself.
Now I"m filling my gullet with coffee and letting them battle it out.
I've been in the paper like 7 days in a row now and not once has it been for assaulting someone. I'm saving that for keeping the streak alive.
Big meeting today at 1:30. Hopefully the sleeping pills, beer, and coffee will have sorted itself out by then. Its really hard to negotiate from a position of strength when you've passed out and shit yourself.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Head down
Wish I had something interesting to tell but its been a heads down grind all week.
I'll see what I can do about that tonight and tommorrow. Maybe I'll finish with a fury.
I'll see what I can do about that tonight and tommorrow. Maybe I'll finish with a fury.
Friday, August 07, 2009
Nationalized Health Care
In an odd series of events I just noticed the following.
This is the the Rod of Asclepius.
Asclepius was the son of Apollo and was the practicioner of medicine in Greek Mythology. The symbol represents healing.
This is the Caduceus
Thisis a symbol of Greek god Hermes the messenger of the gods, guide of the dead and protector of merchants, shepherds, gamblers, liars and thieves. This represents theft, commerce, deception and death.
Interestingly in the United States, somehow, these two symbols were switched. The end result is that in America, the Caduceus symbol for theft, deception, death and commerce is now the symbol for medicine.
Perhaps even more remarkable is that we're able to trace the source of this confusion. The "patient zero" of symbolic misuse. I present to you...
The U.S. Army Medical Corps Branch Plaque. The 1902 adoption of the caduceus for U.S. Army medical officer uniforms popularized the symbol throughout the medical field in the US.
This is the the Rod of Asclepius.
Asclepius was the son of Apollo and was the practicioner of medicine in Greek Mythology. The symbol represents healing.
This is the Caduceus
Thisis a symbol of Greek god Hermes the messenger of the gods, guide of the dead and protector of merchants, shepherds, gamblers, liars and thieves. This represents theft, commerce, deception and death.
Interestingly in the United States, somehow, these two symbols were switched. The end result is that in America, the Caduceus symbol for theft, deception, death and commerce is now the symbol for medicine.
Perhaps even more remarkable is that we're able to trace the source of this confusion. The "patient zero" of symbolic misuse. I present to you...
The U.S. Army Medical Corps Branch Plaque. The 1902 adoption of the caduceus for U.S. Army medical officer uniforms popularized the symbol throughout the medical field in the US.
Wednesday, August 05, 2009
Sad, but not surprising
http://raincoaster.com/2009/08/05/george-sodinis-blog-the-plan/
At the risk of catching your ire I'm going to say that I'm not all that surprised that this incident happened. Obviously its tragic, and obviously the guy who did it is a twisted prick. My point is, he's not the only twisted prick.
Its not worth laying down the full extent of an argument, even if I had one that was more than a series of passing observations, but I will point out that:
- We live in a commercialize, media riddled society that has convinced everyone that getting laid is perhaps the most/ only important thing in the world.
- All other objects and goals in the pursuit of getting laid are shown to be fulfilling no matter how arbitrary or contrived that they are. Hell, if you believed what you see on TV ( and you're supposed to) washing your hair with the right shampoo gives you an orgasm. That's going to leave a lot of shampoo customers disappointed.
- We have a system of largely un-defined/over define/and contrarily defined gender roles. For white males, that's compounded by the MSNBCs of the world telling you that you're an evil bastard and part of the problem and the FOXNews of the world telling you that you're being put upon and an endangered species.
Now all of that means shit so long as you're a grounded person and have a support system of family and friends to give you some guidance and perspective. Unfortunately the system, by design or happenstance is evolving in the opposite direction.
- We're becoming more and more isolated. While all the communication available to us has made surface interaction readily accessible, its come at the expense of meaningful dialog and relationships.
- The family structure has basically eroded into nothingness. You could fill books on both reasons and examples. You could fill another 20 books assigning blame. But the point is that extended families basically extinct and the nuclear family is quickly becoming the exception.
I believe that there's a growing segment of the population that feels disenfranchised and powerless. They're lost and lonely. In many cases they're made to feel that way by design....that makes them better marks for business, government, and religious manipulation.
This is what Obama was striking at when he talked about people taking refuge in religion and guns, without even recognizing that he wasn't part of the solution, but an extension of the problem. Many of those people will fill that void playing Second Life or WOW. Many will seek refuge in their churches and cults. Many will seek refuge in their political parties. But I fear that some will lash back at society, and when they do it will be in way of misdirected violence.
* before you let any of that pissed you off or freak you out, please keep in mind that's just the offhanded opinion of a guy who yells at little kids at the pool and gets massages at the mall. Its not like I'm George Will...or even Curious George for that matter.
At the risk of catching your ire I'm going to say that I'm not all that surprised that this incident happened. Obviously its tragic, and obviously the guy who did it is a twisted prick. My point is, he's not the only twisted prick.
Its not worth laying down the full extent of an argument, even if I had one that was more than a series of passing observations, but I will point out that:
- We live in a commercialize, media riddled society that has convinced everyone that getting laid is perhaps the most/ only important thing in the world.
- All other objects and goals in the pursuit of getting laid are shown to be fulfilling no matter how arbitrary or contrived that they are. Hell, if you believed what you see on TV ( and you're supposed to) washing your hair with the right shampoo gives you an orgasm. That's going to leave a lot of shampoo customers disappointed.
- We have a system of largely un-defined/over define/and contrarily defined gender roles. For white males, that's compounded by the MSNBCs of the world telling you that you're an evil bastard and part of the problem and the FOXNews of the world telling you that you're being put upon and an endangered species.
Now all of that means shit so long as you're a grounded person and have a support system of family and friends to give you some guidance and perspective. Unfortunately the system, by design or happenstance is evolving in the opposite direction.
- We're becoming more and more isolated. While all the communication available to us has made surface interaction readily accessible, its come at the expense of meaningful dialog and relationships.
- The family structure has basically eroded into nothingness. You could fill books on both reasons and examples. You could fill another 20 books assigning blame. But the point is that extended families basically extinct and the nuclear family is quickly becoming the exception.
I believe that there's a growing segment of the population that feels disenfranchised and powerless. They're lost and lonely. In many cases they're made to feel that way by design....that makes them better marks for business, government, and religious manipulation.
This is what Obama was striking at when he talked about people taking refuge in religion and guns, without even recognizing that he wasn't part of the solution, but an extension of the problem. Many of those people will fill that void playing Second Life or WOW. Many will seek refuge in their churches and cults. Many will seek refuge in their political parties. But I fear that some will lash back at society, and when they do it will be in way of misdirected violence.
* before you let any of that pissed you off or freak you out, please keep in mind that's just the offhanded opinion of a guy who yells at little kids at the pool and gets massages at the mall. Its not like I'm George Will...or even Curious George for that matter.
Tuesday, August 04, 2009
loose lips
Saturday night I had a few too many cocktails. While Sunday and Monday were no treat, I think I got away Saturday night mostly unscathed. I didn't remove any articles of clothing, I didn't threaten anyone, the only thing that I can recall doing inapproriately was telling a story to an elderly couple that I inadvertantly ended with the punchline, " MOTHERFUCKER !"
The story I was conveying had just happened the night previous, last Friday. As any regular reader already knows by my ranting that day, I was particularly stressed out. I left work looking for trouble and when my wife called and asked if I would meet her and the girls at the mall, trouble was going to be easy to find.
I walked up to the mall bar and asked, " do you have any single malt scotch ?"
The 21 year old college girl behind the counter looked back at me blankly, " ummm single what ?"
I repeated myself and she dug around in the well for a while and found me a bottle of Glenlivet, " How would you like that ?"
" Scotch and water please."
To my astonishment, she then picked up a soda glass, filled it with ice, poured some scotch over the ice, then proceeded to fill the glass with water, stopping only when I started screaming from across the bar. To add insult to injury, as I sat there mouth agape wonder what to do, she plopped a bill in front of me for $7.
The head waitress (which at this place meant another 21 year old, but this one had probably been there for more than 6 weeks) walked over and asked if there was a problem.
" Yeah.", I answered, " Do you think that you might be able to strain this into another, perhaps smaller glass, without ice ?"
" Sure", she said. Then strained out the drink into a second soda glass handing me what was, essentially, a half filled glass of slightly tinted water.
Miserably, spitefully, I downed the swamp water and followed it up with a couple of Yuenglings and dinner with the wife and kids.
After dinner, Mrs. Flick had a couple of things to get in the mall and so off we went into that hell hole. She's veteran enough to know that I was going to be a royal pain in the ass, so as well walked by one of those massage kiosks she said, " Hey listen, while the girls and I are shopping, why don't you get a massage ?"
" A mall massage ?", I asked incredulously, " no way."
" Come on. Your options are to walk around looking at little girls clothes or this. Go ahead, it will relax you."
After some further dialoge, she walked over, had a brief discussion with the Chinese dude in blue doctor scrubs and then came back. " See that guy over there, he'll take care of everything."
Begrudgingly, I walked over to the guy, " OK, where do we go ?"
He looked at me puzzled and pointed over to this contraption about 10 feet away.
" HERE ! right here ?!"
He nodded and pointed again.
Right there in the middle of the aisle with Friday night shoppers walking back and forth was this massage kneeler. " You have got to be f-ing kidding me." I looked back at the guy and he stared happily back at me.
" Ah fuck it, lets do it", I figured I'm face down on that thing no one can see me, what the hell. He put down this paper thing, like a toilet seat cover, I shoved me face in the hole and the dude started pounding away at my back.
10 minutes later he tapped me on the shoulder. " Ok, we're done ?", I asked.
" No no...over more", he replied in broke English. I couldn't understand what he was talking about.
Finally a younger Chinese girls walked over and in a little better English informed me, " You wife, she get you foot massage too. 10 minute each foot"
" Ok, fine, he told me to get up.", I started back to the massge contraption.
" No, you go over here", the girl grabbed my arm and pulled me around to the other side of the kiosk where I was surprised to see a lazy boy/ barko lounger chair with a footstool. " You sit"
Kinda stunned I sat in the chair. I looked down and the Chinaman pulled off my shoes and sock. Then he pulled on these giant gloves. The only time I've seen gloves of that type were on an Animal Planet show where they were impregnating horses. And just like on that show he started lubing the gloves up in this vat of oil.
" You lay back now see !", and with that hit a button that send the barkolounger in full recline mode.
So as most of you probably have gathered, I have a tendency to be an extremely self conscious person. Some might say that it borders on paranoid, and those people are being polite. So laying akimbo, with the top end of me half way into the northbound aisle of the mall councourse, and the south end of me being rubbed by a lubed up Chinaman in latex is not what I would described as a comfortable moment for me.
" Hey...uh Fong...do you have a curtain or something ?"
" No ! You lay back now !"
" How about a couple of those paper towels I can put over my face or something ?"
" Ha ha, you funny ", apparently thinking that I wasn't serious about the towels.
With that, Fong pickup up my left foot to his eye level holding it in his left hand. He reared back with his right hand like a prize fighter and WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP, hauled off and punched me as hard as he could...six times right into the base of my heel.
" HOLY SMOKES !", I yelled startled. Then all of a sudden, for the first time in weeks, my left leg went totally relaxed. Holy crap that felt good.
I looked down at Fong with my eyes just about bugged out of my head and he looked back at me with a knowing grin, " You lay back now, yes ?"
So whats a brother to do ? There's really no middle ground in a scene like that. As uncomfortable as the situation was, I really had to choices. The first was to call the whole thing off, the other was to just go with it. I figured screw it, the situation was so surreal I'd just go with it. It was going to take about 17 more minutes then it would be done and over, and really I was starting to feel better.
I put my hands on my belly, laid back, closed my eyes and started to relax.
At first I could hear the voices in the background, " hey look at that dude getting a massage.......watch out for that dudes head....."
breathe in breathe out...ignore the voices...
" hey that guy is letting another guy rub his feet...heh heh"
breathe....ignore....and sure enough it was starting to work. Pretty soon the voices all blended into each other as they passed by. Fong was rubbing the tension out of my feet, I was breathing nice and easy, and for the first time in forever I started to relax and let the stress of life flow out of my body...starting to find my happy place.....
Then....
" BOOOOOOOO !"
Instinctively, my eyes popped open. Two inches from my face...literally nose to nose, was my next door neighbor with her brood of kids and husband in tow. " Har har har har......I saw you laying there and I just HAD to do that, ha ha ha" she giggled like a mental patient.
Which leads me back to the beginning of this story, end of that story, and a new dynamic between my neighbors and I as I sat up in the chair sending her reeling back and yelled, of all things, " MOTHERFUCKER !"
The story I was conveying had just happened the night previous, last Friday. As any regular reader already knows by my ranting that day, I was particularly stressed out. I left work looking for trouble and when my wife called and asked if I would meet her and the girls at the mall, trouble was going to be easy to find.
I walked up to the mall bar and asked, " do you have any single malt scotch ?"
The 21 year old college girl behind the counter looked back at me blankly, " ummm single what ?"
I repeated myself and she dug around in the well for a while and found me a bottle of Glenlivet, " How would you like that ?"
" Scotch and water please."
To my astonishment, she then picked up a soda glass, filled it with ice, poured some scotch over the ice, then proceeded to fill the glass with water, stopping only when I started screaming from across the bar. To add insult to injury, as I sat there mouth agape wonder what to do, she plopped a bill in front of me for $7.
The head waitress (which at this place meant another 21 year old, but this one had probably been there for more than 6 weeks) walked over and asked if there was a problem.
" Yeah.", I answered, " Do you think that you might be able to strain this into another, perhaps smaller glass, without ice ?"
" Sure", she said. Then strained out the drink into a second soda glass handing me what was, essentially, a half filled glass of slightly tinted water.
Miserably, spitefully, I downed the swamp water and followed it up with a couple of Yuenglings and dinner with the wife and kids.
After dinner, Mrs. Flick had a couple of things to get in the mall and so off we went into that hell hole. She's veteran enough to know that I was going to be a royal pain in the ass, so as well walked by one of those massage kiosks she said, " Hey listen, while the girls and I are shopping, why don't you get a massage ?"
" A mall massage ?", I asked incredulously, " no way."
" Come on. Your options are to walk around looking at little girls clothes or this. Go ahead, it will relax you."
After some further dialoge, she walked over, had a brief discussion with the Chinese dude in blue doctor scrubs and then came back. " See that guy over there, he'll take care of everything."
Begrudgingly, I walked over to the guy, " OK, where do we go ?"
He looked at me puzzled and pointed over to this contraption about 10 feet away.
" HERE ! right here ?!"
He nodded and pointed again.
Right there in the middle of the aisle with Friday night shoppers walking back and forth was this massage kneeler. " You have got to be f-ing kidding me." I looked back at the guy and he stared happily back at me.
" Ah fuck it, lets do it", I figured I'm face down on that thing no one can see me, what the hell. He put down this paper thing, like a toilet seat cover, I shoved me face in the hole and the dude started pounding away at my back.
10 minutes later he tapped me on the shoulder. " Ok, we're done ?", I asked.
" No no...over more", he replied in broke English. I couldn't understand what he was talking about.
Finally a younger Chinese girls walked over and in a little better English informed me, " You wife, she get you foot massage too. 10 minute each foot"
" Ok, fine, he told me to get up.", I started back to the massge contraption.
" No, you go over here", the girl grabbed my arm and pulled me around to the other side of the kiosk where I was surprised to see a lazy boy/ barko lounger chair with a footstool. " You sit"
Kinda stunned I sat in the chair. I looked down and the Chinaman pulled off my shoes and sock. Then he pulled on these giant gloves. The only time I've seen gloves of that type were on an Animal Planet show where they were impregnating horses. And just like on that show he started lubing the gloves up in this vat of oil.
" You lay back now see !", and with that hit a button that send the barkolounger in full recline mode.
So as most of you probably have gathered, I have a tendency to be an extremely self conscious person. Some might say that it borders on paranoid, and those people are being polite. So laying akimbo, with the top end of me half way into the northbound aisle of the mall councourse, and the south end of me being rubbed by a lubed up Chinaman in latex is not what I would described as a comfortable moment for me.
" Hey...uh Fong...do you have a curtain or something ?"
" No ! You lay back now !"
" How about a couple of those paper towels I can put over my face or something ?"
" Ha ha, you funny ", apparently thinking that I wasn't serious about the towels.
With that, Fong pickup up my left foot to his eye level holding it in his left hand. He reared back with his right hand like a prize fighter and WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP, hauled off and punched me as hard as he could...six times right into the base of my heel.
" HOLY SMOKES !", I yelled startled. Then all of a sudden, for the first time in weeks, my left leg went totally relaxed. Holy crap that felt good.
I looked down at Fong with my eyes just about bugged out of my head and he looked back at me with a knowing grin, " You lay back now, yes ?"
So whats a brother to do ? There's really no middle ground in a scene like that. As uncomfortable as the situation was, I really had to choices. The first was to call the whole thing off, the other was to just go with it. I figured screw it, the situation was so surreal I'd just go with it. It was going to take about 17 more minutes then it would be done and over, and really I was starting to feel better.
I put my hands on my belly, laid back, closed my eyes and started to relax.
At first I could hear the voices in the background, " hey look at that dude getting a massage.......watch out for that dudes head....."
breathe in breathe out...ignore the voices...
" hey that guy is letting another guy rub his feet...heh heh"
breathe....ignore....and sure enough it was starting to work. Pretty soon the voices all blended into each other as they passed by. Fong was rubbing the tension out of my feet, I was breathing nice and easy, and for the first time in forever I started to relax and let the stress of life flow out of my body...starting to find my happy place.....
Then....
" BOOOOOOOO !"
Instinctively, my eyes popped open. Two inches from my face...literally nose to nose, was my next door neighbor with her brood of kids and husband in tow. " Har har har har......I saw you laying there and I just HAD to do that, ha ha ha" she giggled like a mental patient.
Which leads me back to the beginning of this story, end of that story, and a new dynamic between my neighbors and I as I sat up in the chair sending her reeling back and yelled, of all things, " MOTHERFUCKER !"
Monday, August 03, 2009
my weekend
- bad scotch
- Chineese man rubbing my feet
- kayaking
- eating a roasted pig
- 12 beers ( plus or minus 6 beers...and probably not the minus part)
- 2 hours on the bike
- 3 hours on the can
- still crusty on monday
After reading my posts from Friday, I think I'm the only one who didn't see this coming.
- Chineese man rubbing my feet
- kayaking
- eating a roasted pig
- 12 beers ( plus or minus 6 beers...and probably not the minus part)
- 2 hours on the bike
- 3 hours on the can
- still crusty on monday
After reading my posts from Friday, I think I'm the only one who didn't see this coming.
Friday, July 31, 2009
don't P in our ool
I've been under a decent ammt of work stress lately, and between training for a long triathlon and having allergies I've been under a great deal of physical stress. Home stress I don't even want to talk about except to say that no one warned me about the 9 year old boy "moronic" phase. In any case.....sooner or later something had to give.
Last night I went to the pool which, in general, already has be on the edge. The pool situation is stressful enough because you have to go through the locker room of naked old men which I've already documented at length.
But you can add to that a couple of factors which occur 100% of the time. They are;
* The pool's dumb policy of only maintaining two lap lanes even during peak hours. This means that you always have to share a lane. So when you get on deck, you have to wait until some old fart meanders his way across the pool doing the elementary back stroke and hope that you can catch him and let him know that your sharing his lane so he doesn't bean you or so that you don't knock into him in the deep end and drown him. And then once you're in a lane, they'll inevitably fill and some person will pull their chair up the the edge of the water and alternate between asking everyone, " do you have much longer ?" and then huffing and rolling their eyes when you reply, " suck my pull buoy".
* There's always a water aerobics class going on. This means fifteen 82 year old fat women who wrap themselves in those floatie noodles and bob around like dead manatees to the sounds of the 70's. Add in the fact that every one of them has been hermetically sealed in perfumes purchased by their grandchildren and cheap eyebrow make-up and what you end up with is a stinky, choppy, disgusting soup of a pool.
Last night was made worse by the following
- My lane partner was a woman in her mid-60s. Half the time she did this weird sort of sidestroke with a giant scissor kick. The effect of which was that I got the worlds creepiest beaver shot whenever I had to pass her northbound. The other half of the time she put these flippers on and swam freestyle really really fast, and passed me multiple times much to my humiliation.
- There was a special needs kid wandering around the pool. He looked to be in his early 20s. He was at least 6 foot 5" and weighed, no exaggeration, 400 lbs. He was like a black George "The Animal" Steel...complete with the lazy eye and everything. He was a nice enough kid and for whatever reason took a shining to me. So whenever I would stop between sets he would start to wander over to my lane and stare at me absently. I was torn between trying to be nice to the kid ( and not look like a douche to his super hot mom on the deck for blowing him off) and getting my workouts in. I already HATE swimming, and want to get it over with. At the same time I don't want to be known as " that dude who hates retarded kids". Pretty much that's all I could think about while I was swimming.
- Finally there was this family of Chinese kids. Appropriately enough there were like 700 of them and everyone of them was acting like they were throwing a seizure. Every once in a while one of them would start screaming to high heaven and it would startle me, the life guards and everyone else, assuming that someone was hurt or drowning. The mother of the brood, of course, just sat there oblivious... probably content that she wasn't in labor for more than a 10 minute stretch of time.
The whole thing came to a head when this college age girl came in to give a swim lesson to this little 4 year old girl. They set up right next to my lane in the corner where the lap lane met the open wasteland of manatees and screaming Asians.
After a set I stopped to catch my breath and I could see it coming. It was like a perfect storm of madness. At the same time that the college girl was trying to get the 4 year old to swim to her from the edge of the pool, the 400lb retarded guy started making his way over to me, and the Asian kids started an all out Tienanmen Square revolutionary assault on each other with kickboards and noodles, whooping it up the whole time. It was a giant wave of flesh, and splash and noise and cheap perfume stick and I ....coudn't....fucking....take it.....any.......more.
" HEEEEEEYYYYYY ! HEEEEEEEYYYYYYYYYYY !!!!!! " I screamed at the top of my lugs, my voice echoing above the din of kids screaming and bad disco.
" CUT THAT SHIT OOOOOUUUUUUUUUTTTTTTTTTT !!!!!!", I pointed at the biggest Chinese kid, " They're trying to have a lesson here and I'm trying to swim and you need to stop freakin screaming and BACK UP !"
I eyeballed the retarded guy. Well I eyeballed one of his eyeballs anyway. " Not you buddy, you're good. Just watch out for the little kid."
Then I put on my goggles and swam 300 meters.
When I popped my head up again, I had the place to myself. So I guess in the end it pretty much all worked out for the best.
Last night I went to the pool which, in general, already has be on the edge. The pool situation is stressful enough because you have to go through the locker room of naked old men which I've already documented at length.
But you can add to that a couple of factors which occur 100% of the time. They are;
* The pool's dumb policy of only maintaining two lap lanes even during peak hours. This means that you always have to share a lane. So when you get on deck, you have to wait until some old fart meanders his way across the pool doing the elementary back stroke and hope that you can catch him and let him know that your sharing his lane so he doesn't bean you or so that you don't knock into him in the deep end and drown him. And then once you're in a lane, they'll inevitably fill and some person will pull their chair up the the edge of the water and alternate between asking everyone, " do you have much longer ?" and then huffing and rolling their eyes when you reply, " suck my pull buoy".
* There's always a water aerobics class going on. This means fifteen 82 year old fat women who wrap themselves in those floatie noodles and bob around like dead manatees to the sounds of the 70's. Add in the fact that every one of them has been hermetically sealed in perfumes purchased by their grandchildren and cheap eyebrow make-up and what you end up with is a stinky, choppy, disgusting soup of a pool.
Last night was made worse by the following
- My lane partner was a woman in her mid-60s. Half the time she did this weird sort of sidestroke with a giant scissor kick. The effect of which was that I got the worlds creepiest beaver shot whenever I had to pass her northbound. The other half of the time she put these flippers on and swam freestyle really really fast, and passed me multiple times much to my humiliation.
- There was a special needs kid wandering around the pool. He looked to be in his early 20s. He was at least 6 foot 5" and weighed, no exaggeration, 400 lbs. He was like a black George "The Animal" Steel...complete with the lazy eye and everything. He was a nice enough kid and for whatever reason took a shining to me. So whenever I would stop between sets he would start to wander over to my lane and stare at me absently. I was torn between trying to be nice to the kid ( and not look like a douche to his super hot mom on the deck for blowing him off) and getting my workouts in. I already HATE swimming, and want to get it over with. At the same time I don't want to be known as " that dude who hates retarded kids". Pretty much that's all I could think about while I was swimming.
- Finally there was this family of Chinese kids. Appropriately enough there were like 700 of them and everyone of them was acting like they were throwing a seizure. Every once in a while one of them would start screaming to high heaven and it would startle me, the life guards and everyone else, assuming that someone was hurt or drowning. The mother of the brood, of course, just sat there oblivious... probably content that she wasn't in labor for more than a 10 minute stretch of time.
The whole thing came to a head when this college age girl came in to give a swim lesson to this little 4 year old girl. They set up right next to my lane in the corner where the lap lane met the open wasteland of manatees and screaming Asians.
After a set I stopped to catch my breath and I could see it coming. It was like a perfect storm of madness. At the same time that the college girl was trying to get the 4 year old to swim to her from the edge of the pool, the 400lb retarded guy started making his way over to me, and the Asian kids started an all out Tienanmen Square revolutionary assault on each other with kickboards and noodles, whooping it up the whole time. It was a giant wave of flesh, and splash and noise and cheap perfume stick and I ....coudn't....fucking....take it.....any.......more.
" HEEEEEEYYYYYY ! HEEEEEEEYYYYYYYYYYY !!!!!! " I screamed at the top of my lugs, my voice echoing above the din of kids screaming and bad disco.
" CUT THAT SHIT OOOOOUUUUUUUUUTTTTTTTTTT !!!!!!", I pointed at the biggest Chinese kid, " They're trying to have a lesson here and I'm trying to swim and you need to stop freakin screaming and BACK UP !"
I eyeballed the retarded guy. Well I eyeballed one of his eyeballs anyway. " Not you buddy, you're good. Just watch out for the little kid."
Then I put on my goggles and swam 300 meters.
When I popped my head up again, I had the place to myself. So I guess in the end it pretty much all worked out for the best.
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