It has been proven many times over that I am sleep deprived. Every day I do not know what I look like until I see peoples expression at work. And if it is of mild discontent, I know I just still have toothpaste dried on my mouth. If their look is one of severe discontent then I know I did something like forget to remove the sleepy junk from my eyes and they look like a slimy egg hatching or something. If they step two feet in the store and then scream running out of the store, then I know that I have forgotten to put on a shirt. Anyways, the point is this. I tend to find things to keep me from sleeping each night. Mainly stuff that has little to do with making me a better human. Like MySpace, Blogs, Movies or watching TV. All three of you just gasped I know. Well prepare to gasp again. My bed changed the words to a John Mayer song tonight while I was watching LOST. He turned it into a ditty for me. Brought me to tears and made me realise I need to spend more time with him. So hopefully from now on I will not be wasting so much time late night surfing the net, I will be snug in my comfortable bed...playing game boy.
Here are the lyrics to the song my bed wrote me. It is best read if you can find the song from John Mayer's, Heavier Things CD. You will also need to sing in G because that is how it was rewritten. If you don't have it on cd or eight track it is playing on mySpace. Thanks again good night.
Come Back to Bed
Red are your eyes
You need to move
Here by my side
Your awake doin' all your things
not one of them match one of mine
No drool on my sheets
Show me you don't care at all
So tell me what to do
To get you to get in my sheets this fall
You'll be rested in the mornin'
We'll poke fun of your bed head
Please give in to your fear
Be Bold, Boris
Come back to bed
Rest your big head
Come back to bed
Come back to bed
What will you miss
Yaknow that that surfin' will ne'er end
I hear each morn's wish
Your eyes feel like death,
Joints are disastrous
You won't feel bad each morning
Youll feel so alive instead
And start the day in second gear
Your old, Boris
Come back to bed
Your eyes are so red
Rest that huge head
Come on come back to bed
Come back to bed...
[harp solo]
You'll need no snooze bar in the mornin'
Your stomach will be fed
Please believe me
8 hours will be pure gratification
For you Boris
Just Come back to bed
Rest that large head
Come back to bed
Don't use your MySpace oe'r your bed
Don't work your blog over your bed
Don't watch your shows over your bed
Don't view your movies oe'r your bed
Don't surf the net over your bed
Don't play your games
Until next time.
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
The Parable-attempt
As no one knows I have not had written a blog in over a week. Which means no one has wondered why and no one will care why I haven't, but for the sake of filling up a few lines of cyber space, I will now type to myself to figure out exactly what it is have been up to over the past week and a half. All that comes to mind are a bunch of opposites. I have been up late at night, and I have been to bed early-as in before the local news comes on. I have gotten up early and I have woken up late-as in late in the afternoon as well as late for work. I have had my mind filled with so many thoughts from both spheres of my brain-as in both intelligent thoughts and silly daydreams(I know you might not think I know the difference between these two, and you may be right.) I have been on a health kick-as in going to the gym, as well as an unhealthy kick-as in watching almost every show television has too offer. I have been happy-as in a smile, as well as sad-as in... well if I cried, tears. So as I see it, I have had somewhat of a seesaw of happenings over the the past while. The more I think about it there has to be a life teaching lesson in my findings about myself. After thinking about it even more, mainly with the side of my brain that I think with most-yes the silly daydream side, I think I can write a parable about my past week. Of course my intelligent side of my brain is begging me not to try. But here goes. Since this is the first thought I gave to what Parable even means, I checked on Dictionary.com and this is the definition.
1. a short allegorical story designed to illustrate or teach some truth, religious principle, or moral lesson.
2. a statement or comment that conveys a meaning indirectly by the use of comparison, analogy, or the like.
Once upon a time in a dark closet, lived a rope about 10 feet long. It is a thick rope, both ends are worn and patched with tape. Right at the midway point this rope a red ribbon tied around its waist. This rope was used roughly, but was not used every day, just in certain seasons. Simply it was rope but more complicatedly it was a tug-a-war rope. Children would use this rope. It was used in gym class. It was never treated with much respect but was so important in the outcome of the game. The game of Tug-a-War. Kids would divide up into teams on each side of the rope. Each side had kids that were different sizes different shapes different smells. Each side had its fair share of small kids but each side had the one big kids that would try to rally the troops. Next the kids would line up on either side of this rope and would hold tightly on to their side of the rope. Yanking in unison each side would pull their hardest to try and pull the other side toward their side of the room. If the red ribbon crossed the determined area then the one side of children would win. Usually they would dance and trash talk to the other team, pointing at the weakest on the other team and yell "you had no chance wimpy!" This is what this rope had to live with during its life. Even though it is not always used it is the only device that can be used in the gym class game of Tug-a-war.
(OK the meaningful part, I think)
Once upon a time in a dark mind, lived some will power about a mile long. It is an invisible desire, both ends are stubborn and patched with longings. Right at the midway point of this will power, a final decision is tied around its choices. This will power was used frenziedly, but was not used on every little decision, just in most life's main issues. Simply it was will but more complicatedly it was a tug-a-will power. Minds would use this will. It was used in decision making. It was never treated with much respect but was so important in the outcome of the decision. The game of Tug-a-Will. Convictions would divide up into teams on each side of the will power. Each side had convictions that had different morals different belief different motivations. Each side had its fair share of irrelevant ideas but each side had the one big conviction that would try to persuade the other thoughts. Next, the convictions would line up on either side of this will power and would hold tightly on to their side of the will. Yanking as one big thought each side would pull their hardest to try and pull the other beliefs toward their side of the decision making pool. If the final decision crossed the frontal lobe then the one side of thinking would happen. Eventually the final decision would feel good and make fun to the losing thought, pointing at the weakest conviction on the other deciding factors and yell "you had no chance wimpy!" This is what this will power had to live with during its life. Even though it is not always used it is the only device that can be used in the decision making process of Tug-a-Will.
Well what I guess I was trying to get at is I feel i have been having a tug-a-will with myself over the past week or two. Pulling your self in different ways trying to come up with a path to take is rouph on the body, mind and spirit-judging by the buises that have appeared and the bags of ugly under my eyes that have appeared I have been playing this game pretty hard. So I guess there is a better way to come to a decision. Draw straws.
Until next time.
1. a short allegorical story designed to illustrate or teach some truth, religious principle, or moral lesson.
2. a statement or comment that conveys a meaning indirectly by the use of comparison, analogy, or the like.
Once upon a time in a dark closet, lived a rope about 10 feet long. It is a thick rope, both ends are worn and patched with tape. Right at the midway point this rope a red ribbon tied around its waist. This rope was used roughly, but was not used every day, just in certain seasons. Simply it was rope but more complicatedly it was a tug-a-war rope. Children would use this rope. It was used in gym class. It was never treated with much respect but was so important in the outcome of the game. The game of Tug-a-War. Kids would divide up into teams on each side of the rope. Each side had kids that were different sizes different shapes different smells. Each side had its fair share of small kids but each side had the one big kids that would try to rally the troops. Next the kids would line up on either side of this rope and would hold tightly on to their side of the rope. Yanking in unison each side would pull their hardest to try and pull the other side toward their side of the room. If the red ribbon crossed the determined area then the one side of children would win. Usually they would dance and trash talk to the other team, pointing at the weakest on the other team and yell "you had no chance wimpy!" This is what this rope had to live with during its life. Even though it is not always used it is the only device that can be used in the gym class game of Tug-a-war.
(OK the meaningful part, I think)
Once upon a time in a dark mind, lived some will power about a mile long. It is an invisible desire, both ends are stubborn and patched with longings. Right at the midway point of this will power, a final decision is tied around its choices. This will power was used frenziedly, but was not used on every little decision, just in most life's main issues. Simply it was will but more complicatedly it was a tug-a-will power. Minds would use this will. It was used in decision making. It was never treated with much respect but was so important in the outcome of the decision. The game of Tug-a-Will. Convictions would divide up into teams on each side of the will power. Each side had convictions that had different morals different belief different motivations. Each side had its fair share of irrelevant ideas but each side had the one big conviction that would try to persuade the other thoughts. Next, the convictions would line up on either side of this will power and would hold tightly on to their side of the will. Yanking as one big thought each side would pull their hardest to try and pull the other beliefs toward their side of the decision making pool. If the final decision crossed the frontal lobe then the one side of thinking would happen. Eventually the final decision would feel good and make fun to the losing thought, pointing at the weakest conviction on the other deciding factors and yell "you had no chance wimpy!" This is what this will power had to live with during its life. Even though it is not always used it is the only device that can be used in the decision making process of Tug-a-Will.
Well what I guess I was trying to get at is I feel i have been having a tug-a-will with myself over the past week or two. Pulling your self in different ways trying to come up with a path to take is rouph on the body, mind and spirit-judging by the buises that have appeared and the bags of ugly under my eyes that have appeared I have been playing this game pretty hard. So I guess there is a better way to come to a decision. Draw straws.
Until next time.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Memento-by-Boris
(One Hour Ago)
The day was just one of those crazy days. One in which everything seemed shuddersome to begin with. The temperature must have dropped twenty degrees in the the past hour. Nothing really made any since. Both the moon and the sun seemed to be fighting over who had control of the sky. It was humid but at the same time one's skin could be chilled by the inconsistent winds. Something was up, and at the same time something was going to go down this night. Something big. Something that might not ever be able to be explained. It just had that feel to it. The streets were quiet except for one area of town. Neon lights filled the street corner with an unpleasant glow. It was now dark, and four light footsteps, four shuffling footsteps and two indiscernible footsteps could be heard. It was an eerie sound, one that caused the streets to be deserted and small children to clinch their mothers leg in a trepidation. It was in the next hour that life in the this small town would be changed forever. But at this moment, time appeared to stand still, stars lost their twinkle and it seemed that everyone in this unsuspecting town inhaled a deep breath at the exact same moment. The next thing that these folks heard, would be the last normal memory many of them would have this night. For at this moment there was a unusually loud creaking of an unusually large door...
(Fifteen Minutes Ago)
The place was a wreck, like a bachelors room right before a lady friend comes to visit. Just plain crazy. Not one person could even form the words to describe what they had witnessed for the past fifty minutes or so. No one had thought it was possible. No one thought is was real, but they all agreed, what happened that does not happen every day, not even once in a blue moon. Exspecially to this small quiet town. There was broken glass everywhere, ice cream everywhere, liquids of all kinds all over the floors and walls, tread marks on the floor, and some other food all over the place-some of it all mashed up. A manager shuffles through the wreckage and can only shake his head in amazement over what just happened. He mumbles to himself something that sounded like, "I feel like that was a dream." He starts picking up random objects off the ground each bringing back a memory of the past hour. Just then he leans down and picks up a spoon....
(Twenty-five Minutes Ago)
NO ONE COULD QUITE BELIEVE IT!!!! What was happening! There was what appeared to be a small imaginary creature running rampant throughout the room protecting people. But right when people would think, "there's no way that could be a small imaginary creature running rampant throughout the room protecting people," it would disappear. It was a sight that was just icing on the cake on what seemed to be the most amazing forty minutes any of them had ever been through. This little creature would seem to fly from danger to danger in the room, saving one man from getting run over, to saving a woman from slipping on a mashed up hot dog wiener. And just like that he would disappear again. That is when a few people started catching on that if you believed that this small creature was there to protect you then he would do just that! This caused people to try jumping off tables face first on to the ground just so the little imaginary creature would swoop in and save them from a nasty head ache. But something started to go wrong. It had to do something with the fact that for some reason ice cream was being served throughout the room. The small imaginary creature could not make it to people in time, people were getting injured ice cream and spoons preceded to fly across the room. What started as a strong belief in a protecting little creature had suddenly turned into a food fight of epic proportions. And that is the last any saw of this small imaginary creature. The manager wiping some ice cream from is sleeve bends down and picks up a envelope that has yet to be sealed...
(Forty Minutes Ago)
No one was prepared for what was happening at this exact moment. The largest turtle anyone ad ever seen was spotted getting into a small race car. He barely fit into the little car. It also took a good five minutes for him to get in the car and get the door shut. He was a turtle, mind you. But that is when it happened. He started driving around the room Ricky Bobby style. FAST! This scared the room at first, people were running around spilling their drinks, throwing their chairs, and of course picking their jaws off the floor, because they did just witness a big 100 year old turtle position himself into a small race car and continue to drive around tables weaving in and out of people. The fear slowly resided and people started having fun with it, cheering on this crazy old speeding turtle. Smiles filled the air again. But the fun took a weird turn that no one could have predicted, not even by the smelly guy in the corner that said, "Wow, you don't see that every day!" A worker came from the back of the room holding a stack of what at first looked like papers. She was not paying attention to the fact that a 100 year old turtle was being cheered on by many while skidding around the room at a rate that would blow your mind. Well she walked right in front of the speeding turtle, he swerved as best he could but he did clip her leg, she dropped her-what looked like papers- amazingly enough, into the car window and he crashed into a group of tables that were full of drinks. A few men rushed over and what they found was beyond their most imaginative thoughts. All that was in the wrecked race car, was a shell half the size of the 100 year old turtle they saw crawl in the car. All over the damp shell were unsealed envelopes stuck all over the poor turtle. He actually began to shrink until he was gone. It was almost more then this group of men could take. The manager came by at this moment and said to the group of befuddled men, "next rounds on me." This seemed to snap the men out of their disbelief and put a grin back on their face. The manager studied the wreck, he too was amazed at what just happened. It was not the first time he was amazed tonight, and assumed it would not be the last. He then bent over and picked up a half of a hot dog wiener...
(Fifty minutes ago)
No one could believe what they were looking at. Not in a million years could what they were looking at really be standing in front of them. It was hamster. But not any ole hamster, this hamster looked like a dwarf hamster. The only way to even begin to understand this, was to understand that not only was he a dwarf hamster he was also Siberian. He was standing on a bar stool and immediately had every ones attention. He screamed out in a schreakingly high voice that he was going to hold a contest! A contest that would involve hot dog wieners and noses. The room which already had a look of amazement, now had a look of confused amazement. This quickly ended when the peculiarly shaped hamster explained the rules and the prize of this contest. "If you can fit two full hot dogs up your nose, you will receive two things from me. One, you will receive a free dental examination and two you will get a kite that I have welded out of the lightest wood I have found in my travels through out the world." The confused amazed looks were now replaced with huge smiles. For this group responds joyously to the word free and they all get in line to join in on this game. The Siberian Hamster then shows the crowd what is expected. UNBELEVABLE, was the emotion of the collective crowd, for the dwarf had just somehow shoved seven weenies into his nose. This caused about half the group watching this unbelievable feat to drop their drinks with a shatter onto the floor, and stumble out of the line. The other half stayed in line and started attempting to shove two hot dogs up their own noses. NOT one person came close until a hottie from the back of the room strutted up to the front of the line. She was a diva. If there was not a Siberian Dwarf Hamster shoving links up his tiny nose, every eye would be on this gal. She did, and with relative ease, get both of the hot dogs into her nose, impressing almost no one. It was a short time after she won that something no one was ready for happened. She started walking up to the hamster for her free dental examination, and while on the way up there she started applying the most heavenly looking red lipstick one has seen upon her perfectly crafted lips. It seemed to take the attention for the second away from the tiny hot dog engulfing hamster from Siberia, so no one knows what really happened. But right before this beautiful woman got to the bar stool, the hamster exploded. Nobody could tell you before this night what it would be like if a tiny foreign hamster exploded, but from then on each of them would have it burned into their minds, that it is almost just like a package of ballpark franks exploding right in your face. Unbelievable was the mood. Everyone sinced it coming into the room that night, the air had seemed weird. The manager came out from behind the counter with a mop and broom. He leaned over and picked up a little book that was laying on the floor. He read the cover, The Complete Book of Jokes...
(Fifty-nine-and-a-half Minutes Ago)
So this Siberian Dwarf Hamster, A Jawabalee and one of those big 100 yr old Turtles walk into a bar...
Until next time.
The day was just one of those crazy days. One in which everything seemed shuddersome to begin with. The temperature must have dropped twenty degrees in the the past hour. Nothing really made any since. Both the moon and the sun seemed to be fighting over who had control of the sky. It was humid but at the same time one's skin could be chilled by the inconsistent winds. Something was up, and at the same time something was going to go down this night. Something big. Something that might not ever be able to be explained. It just had that feel to it. The streets were quiet except for one area of town. Neon lights filled the street corner with an unpleasant glow. It was now dark, and four light footsteps, four shuffling footsteps and two indiscernible footsteps could be heard. It was an eerie sound, one that caused the streets to be deserted and small children to clinch their mothers leg in a trepidation. It was in the next hour that life in the this small town would be changed forever. But at this moment, time appeared to stand still, stars lost their twinkle and it seemed that everyone in this unsuspecting town inhaled a deep breath at the exact same moment. The next thing that these folks heard, would be the last normal memory many of them would have this night. For at this moment there was a unusually loud creaking of an unusually large door...
(Fifteen Minutes Ago)
The place was a wreck, like a bachelors room right before a lady friend comes to visit. Just plain crazy. Not one person could even form the words to describe what they had witnessed for the past fifty minutes or so. No one had thought it was possible. No one thought is was real, but they all agreed, what happened that does not happen every day, not even once in a blue moon. Exspecially to this small quiet town. There was broken glass everywhere, ice cream everywhere, liquids of all kinds all over the floors and walls, tread marks on the floor, and some other food all over the place-some of it all mashed up. A manager shuffles through the wreckage and can only shake his head in amazement over what just happened. He mumbles to himself something that sounded like, "I feel like that was a dream." He starts picking up random objects off the ground each bringing back a memory of the past hour. Just then he leans down and picks up a spoon....
(Twenty-five Minutes Ago)
NO ONE COULD QUITE BELIEVE IT!!!! What was happening! There was what appeared to be a small imaginary creature running rampant throughout the room protecting people. But right when people would think, "there's no way that could be a small imaginary creature running rampant throughout the room protecting people," it would disappear. It was a sight that was just icing on the cake on what seemed to be the most amazing forty minutes any of them had ever been through. This little creature would seem to fly from danger to danger in the room, saving one man from getting run over, to saving a woman from slipping on a mashed up hot dog wiener. And just like that he would disappear again. That is when a few people started catching on that if you believed that this small creature was there to protect you then he would do just that! This caused people to try jumping off tables face first on to the ground just so the little imaginary creature would swoop in and save them from a nasty head ache. But something started to go wrong. It had to do something with the fact that for some reason ice cream was being served throughout the room. The small imaginary creature could not make it to people in time, people were getting injured ice cream and spoons preceded to fly across the room. What started as a strong belief in a protecting little creature had suddenly turned into a food fight of epic proportions. And that is the last any saw of this small imaginary creature. The manager wiping some ice cream from is sleeve bends down and picks up a envelope that has yet to be sealed...
(Forty Minutes Ago)
No one was prepared for what was happening at this exact moment. The largest turtle anyone ad ever seen was spotted getting into a small race car. He barely fit into the little car. It also took a good five minutes for him to get in the car and get the door shut. He was a turtle, mind you. But that is when it happened. He started driving around the room Ricky Bobby style. FAST! This scared the room at first, people were running around spilling their drinks, throwing their chairs, and of course picking their jaws off the floor, because they did just witness a big 100 year old turtle position himself into a small race car and continue to drive around tables weaving in and out of people. The fear slowly resided and people started having fun with it, cheering on this crazy old speeding turtle. Smiles filled the air again. But the fun took a weird turn that no one could have predicted, not even by the smelly guy in the corner that said, "Wow, you don't see that every day!" A worker came from the back of the room holding a stack of what at first looked like papers. She was not paying attention to the fact that a 100 year old turtle was being cheered on by many while skidding around the room at a rate that would blow your mind. Well she walked right in front of the speeding turtle, he swerved as best he could but he did clip her leg, she dropped her-what looked like papers- amazingly enough, into the car window and he crashed into a group of tables that were full of drinks. A few men rushed over and what they found was beyond their most imaginative thoughts. All that was in the wrecked race car, was a shell half the size of the 100 year old turtle they saw crawl in the car. All over the damp shell were unsealed envelopes stuck all over the poor turtle. He actually began to shrink until he was gone. It was almost more then this group of men could take. The manager came by at this moment and said to the group of befuddled men, "next rounds on me." This seemed to snap the men out of their disbelief and put a grin back on their face. The manager studied the wreck, he too was amazed at what just happened. It was not the first time he was amazed tonight, and assumed it would not be the last. He then bent over and picked up a half of a hot dog wiener...
(Fifty minutes ago)
No one could believe what they were looking at. Not in a million years could what they were looking at really be standing in front of them. It was hamster. But not any ole hamster, this hamster looked like a dwarf hamster. The only way to even begin to understand this, was to understand that not only was he a dwarf hamster he was also Siberian. He was standing on a bar stool and immediately had every ones attention. He screamed out in a schreakingly high voice that he was going to hold a contest! A contest that would involve hot dog wieners and noses. The room which already had a look of amazement, now had a look of confused amazement. This quickly ended when the peculiarly shaped hamster explained the rules and the prize of this contest. "If you can fit two full hot dogs up your nose, you will receive two things from me. One, you will receive a free dental examination and two you will get a kite that I have welded out of the lightest wood I have found in my travels through out the world." The confused amazed looks were now replaced with huge smiles. For this group responds joyously to the word free and they all get in line to join in on this game. The Siberian Hamster then shows the crowd what is expected. UNBELEVABLE, was the emotion of the collective crowd, for the dwarf had just somehow shoved seven weenies into his nose. This caused about half the group watching this unbelievable feat to drop their drinks with a shatter onto the floor, and stumble out of the line. The other half stayed in line and started attempting to shove two hot dogs up their own noses. NOT one person came close until a hottie from the back of the room strutted up to the front of the line. She was a diva. If there was not a Siberian Dwarf Hamster shoving links up his tiny nose, every eye would be on this gal. She did, and with relative ease, get both of the hot dogs into her nose, impressing almost no one. It was a short time after she won that something no one was ready for happened. She started walking up to the hamster for her free dental examination, and while on the way up there she started applying the most heavenly looking red lipstick one has seen upon her perfectly crafted lips. It seemed to take the attention for the second away from the tiny hot dog engulfing hamster from Siberia, so no one knows what really happened. But right before this beautiful woman got to the bar stool, the hamster exploded. Nobody could tell you before this night what it would be like if a tiny foreign hamster exploded, but from then on each of them would have it burned into their minds, that it is almost just like a package of ballpark franks exploding right in your face. Unbelievable was the mood. Everyone sinced it coming into the room that night, the air had seemed weird. The manager came out from behind the counter with a mop and broom. He leaned over and picked up a little book that was laying on the floor. He read the cover, The Complete Book of Jokes...
(Fifty-nine-and-a-half Minutes Ago)
So this Siberian Dwarf Hamster, A Jawabalee and one of those big 100 yr old Turtles walk into a bar...
Until next time.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Who's Blog is it Anyways
In the spirit of Longhorn football season being under way. I the spirit of Cowboy football season a few days away. And in the spirit of Saturdays being spent on couches all over this great nation, I wanted to have a blog that included the audience. I know that for me that means it should be more in the spirit of a rained out pop warner football game, but still I wanted to have some crowd participation. I tried it once before to get a vote on one of two pictures I should write about. Well that vote came to 2-1 and I think one person voted twice, to negate my one vote. So I am confident that this time there will be a flood of responce:)
I kind of want to do a simple questionaire. And since this is my blog for now, if i kinda want to do something, that is all the permission I need to go ahead and do it. So with out much extra thoughspillage, because my mind is in high gear tonight, I would appriciate if at least 3 people could answer these 4 simple questions. I need a topic for a short story. And like the t.v. show staring Drew Carrey I need some help with a few of the main parts of this story. I will then tabulate the results most likely using the fingers on my left hand, and then i will use all ten fingers and I will create a story of insperation, wonder and most likely confusion. But it will be in your hands what the story will be shaped as. So keep that in mind as you spend probably thirty seconds making up your mind. Here we go. I am making it multiple choice incase you draw a blank, but I incourage you to come up with your own ideas as in answer D.) Sweet... now go.
1. Who should be the main character for my story? A.) a boy B.) a girl C.)a dog D.) _________fill in your own.
2. What should be the main characters occupation or hobby? A.) a student B.)a blogger C.)a elephant trainer D.)__________fill in your own.
3. What should be the main characters special talent? A.) Mind reading B.) juggling C.) Healing D.)________fill in your own.
4. What should be the main characters weakness? A.) Snakes B.) the opposite sex C.) clowns D.)__________fill in your own.
I know bad questions. For extra credit you can just give me an idea. You are probably the only one that is going to respond, if you ever even do that, so I'll just use that one. Haha.
Until next time.
I kind of want to do a simple questionaire. And since this is my blog for now, if i kinda want to do something, that is all the permission I need to go ahead and do it. So with out much extra thoughspillage, because my mind is in high gear tonight, I would appriciate if at least 3 people could answer these 4 simple questions. I need a topic for a short story. And like the t.v. show staring Drew Carrey I need some help with a few of the main parts of this story. I will then tabulate the results most likely using the fingers on my left hand, and then i will use all ten fingers and I will create a story of insperation, wonder and most likely confusion. But it will be in your hands what the story will be shaped as. So keep that in mind as you spend probably thirty seconds making up your mind. Here we go. I am making it multiple choice incase you draw a blank, but I incourage you to come up with your own ideas as in answer D.) Sweet... now go.
1. Who should be the main character for my story? A.) a boy B.) a girl C.)a dog D.) _________fill in your own.
2. What should be the main characters occupation or hobby? A.) a student B.)a blogger C.)a elephant trainer D.)__________fill in your own.
3. What should be the main characters special talent? A.) Mind reading B.) juggling C.) Healing D.)________fill in your own.
4. What should be the main characters weakness? A.) Snakes B.) the opposite sex C.) clowns D.)__________fill in your own.
I know bad questions. For extra credit you can just give me an idea. You are probably the only one that is going to respond, if you ever even do that, so I'll just use that one. Haha.
Until next time.
Friday, September 01, 2006
I Tried, but Failed.
Have I really lost my mind
Has this turned into a bind
Had I sleeped instead of stopped,
Do you think my level dropped?
Does this mean that I am through,
Did you know that I have no clue.
Shall I share with you one fact?
Will you please invite me back?
Should it spread from this page,
Could truely begin to show my age.
May I finlly confess to you,
Might it show why I am blue.
Must you wonder, what do I mean,
Can my conscience come so clean?
Could this be the end for now?
Yes it is. I am in mourning. I typed an intire blog about drugs, while on a laptop in my kitchen. It was 1:45 in the evening when my thumb hit the mouse pad and subsequently selected the entire text... So, in my quick thinking I decided the best thing to do at this precise moment was to hit the space bar. The end result was that the entire work I had just written dissapeared. I deleted a blog before I posted it. That was a first, it was consiquently the first time I have ever sobbed while writting a blog. I know what you are thinking. "Why don't you delete blogs before you post them more often?" Well insomnia is setting in tonight. I am sitting at the dinner table and three squirrles just came into the kitchen with instraments and are playing songs in high voices.
Until Next Time
Has this turned into a bind
Had I sleeped instead of stopped,
Do you think my level dropped?
Does this mean that I am through,
Did you know that I have no clue.
Shall I share with you one fact?
Will you please invite me back?
Should it spread from this page,
Could truely begin to show my age.
May I finlly confess to you,
Might it show why I am blue.
Must you wonder, what do I mean,
Can my conscience come so clean?
Could this be the end for now?
Yes it is. I am in mourning. I typed an intire blog about drugs, while on a laptop in my kitchen. It was 1:45 in the evening when my thumb hit the mouse pad and subsequently selected the entire text... So, in my quick thinking I decided the best thing to do at this precise moment was to hit the space bar. The end result was that the entire work I had just written dissapeared. I deleted a blog before I posted it. That was a first, it was consiquently the first time I have ever sobbed while writting a blog. I know what you are thinking. "Why don't you delete blogs before you post them more often?" Well insomnia is setting in tonight. I am sitting at the dinner table and three squirrles just came into the kitchen with instraments and are playing songs in high voices.
Until Next Time
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Dirty Questions Washed and Folded.
Well, it is a Tuesday night, and that means one thing! I am just not sure what that one thing is. I did however start some laundry tonight. While for most, the idea of doing a few loads of laundry would constitute as a relaxing evening, filled with the simple joys of reading a book, watching TV or checking mySpace while waiting to fold some nice fresh warm clothes, for me it is not quite as simple. I have watched a few TV shows, I have checked mySpace and I have looked at the book growing dust beside my bed but I have not had a relaxing time mainly because I have been trying to think about what to write. Doing laundry is not rocket science but it is no walk in the park. So, inbetween loads I have decided to come up with a few questions I have had about doing laundry, then I figured I would go ahead and answer them for you too. This will save you from having to go to Google.com or your mom to find out the answers.
1. What is laundry? I remember the great feeling of getting home from school with my Fraggle Rock tin-can lunch pale and running up the stairs straight to my room to play with my G.I.Joe's. Sitting on my bead each Monday and Thursday afternoon were stacks of folded clothes. My clothes. "Wow," I would think, "a fort!" And this fort would act as a concentration camp for my prisoners, the Transformers. Next I remember my first year of college, when after six months of wearing the same clothes over and over and never getting a date, I did, with the help of the whole wing of my dorm, my first load of wash. Eight quarters later, I had no idea what to do with the warm clothes that came out of the contraption, so I ran with them to my room and threw them in a pile on my bed. "Wow," I remember thinking, "a pillow." I know of course that laundry is neither a fort or a pillow, but that it is a pile of clothes that gather on your floor over the course of anywhere from one to seven weeks, that you split into two groups(lights and darks), wash, then dry and finally fold. This whole process is caled laundry.
What is a perfect load of wash? The answer to this is still a work in process for me. I do know some of the basics however. For starters don't put brand new red sweaters in with all your tidy whiteys or else you'll end up with a never ending supply of Superman briefs. Another basic is to take important documents out of your pockets before you wash your pants, it is hard to get in the Zoo when your summer pass looks like a dried up spitwad. Anyways, I do feel I am getting close doing a perfect load of wash. My last one was my closest to date. I'll describe it. It was a "light colors" load, I had only one dark thing in there and it was a black sock that must have been hiding when I divided the dirty clothes up. I had only about 11 shirts, 16 pair of slightly red whitey tighteys,(how I had more roos then shirts I have no idea) and a pair of jeans. It easily fit into washer and I washed it in a Warm/cold cycle, for no other reason then that is what it was set on. I transferred the load to the drier used a FreBreeze Bounce Ultra Clean Fabric Softener and then preceded to check mySpace while they dried. Well, everything was going so well, and when the buzzer went off the 7th time I went to check my clothes. I pulled them out one by one laying them out carefully to reduce wrinkles. When I come to my jeans they are in shambles. One leg is twisted as if the dryer tried to wring the water out of it like you would with a towel over the sink, the other leg was wrinkleless. Figuring that it could be worse, I counted this as my best load of wash I have ever done(then I scolded myself for keeping such useless statistics about myself).
3. What is the correct way to fold clothes? If you want detailed expert tips on this I am sure you could watch Project Runway and learn some good ideas, but if you want a rouph explanation, read on. Socks: Match all the socks that are the same and tie them in a knot. For the seven that seem like that have no match go by length and tie the ones together that are within 2 inches of the same length, then only wear those pair with jeans. Never fails. Underwear: tri-fold, then fold in half. Then set the few pair that are not a scary shade of red on top and set them in a drawer. You never know who will be snooping.Shirts: This is simple. Go to Wal-mart, and I think it is isle 12A and purchase about 45 hangers. Hang each of these shirts up right when you get them out of the dryer and "whalaa," you have only slightly wrinkled shirts to wear all week. Shorts: Fold in half and put in drawer, preferably not in your desk drawer. Jeans: I have no idea. I have tried everything I know and they are always wrinkled. Pretty much I think the only solution is to just keep buying new jeans or ask a pro. OK, these are only suggestions I repeat. The best way always is to have your mom do all the laundry, because then that means they will be folded properly as well.
4. How do you get tomato juice out of a nice $90 shirt? I don't know. I would suggest just getting nine $10 shirts at Wal-mart so that if it happens again you can just throw one away instead of being upset.
5. What is that buzzing sound that keeps going off?? Oh! That is my last load of clothes. I got some tri-folding of red roos to do and a pillow to get to my bed.
Until next time.
1. What is laundry? I remember the great feeling of getting home from school with my Fraggle Rock tin-can lunch pale and running up the stairs straight to my room to play with my G.I.Joe's. Sitting on my bead each Monday and Thursday afternoon were stacks of folded clothes. My clothes. "Wow," I would think, "a fort!" And this fort would act as a concentration camp for my prisoners, the Transformers. Next I remember my first year of college, when after six months of wearing the same clothes over and over and never getting a date, I did, with the help of the whole wing of my dorm, my first load of wash. Eight quarters later, I had no idea what to do with the warm clothes that came out of the contraption, so I ran with them to my room and threw them in a pile on my bed. "Wow," I remember thinking, "a pillow." I know of course that laundry is neither a fort or a pillow, but that it is a pile of clothes that gather on your floor over the course of anywhere from one to seven weeks, that you split into two groups(lights and darks), wash, then dry and finally fold. This whole process is caled laundry.
What is a perfect load of wash? The answer to this is still a work in process for me. I do know some of the basics however. For starters don't put brand new red sweaters in with all your tidy whiteys or else you'll end up with a never ending supply of Superman briefs. Another basic is to take important documents out of your pockets before you wash your pants, it is hard to get in the Zoo when your summer pass looks like a dried up spitwad. Anyways, I do feel I am getting close doing a perfect load of wash. My last one was my closest to date. I'll describe it. It was a "light colors" load, I had only one dark thing in there and it was a black sock that must have been hiding when I divided the dirty clothes up. I had only about 11 shirts, 16 pair of slightly red whitey tighteys,(how I had more roos then shirts I have no idea) and a pair of jeans. It easily fit into washer and I washed it in a Warm/cold cycle, for no other reason then that is what it was set on. I transferred the load to the drier used a FreBreeze Bounce Ultra Clean Fabric Softener and then preceded to check mySpace while they dried. Well, everything was going so well, and when the buzzer went off the 7th time I went to check my clothes. I pulled them out one by one laying them out carefully to reduce wrinkles. When I come to my jeans they are in shambles. One leg is twisted as if the dryer tried to wring the water out of it like you would with a towel over the sink, the other leg was wrinkleless. Figuring that it could be worse, I counted this as my best load of wash I have ever done(then I scolded myself for keeping such useless statistics about myself).
3. What is the correct way to fold clothes? If you want detailed expert tips on this I am sure you could watch Project Runway and learn some good ideas, but if you want a rouph explanation, read on. Socks: Match all the socks that are the same and tie them in a knot. For the seven that seem like that have no match go by length and tie the ones together that are within 2 inches of the same length, then only wear those pair with jeans. Never fails. Underwear: tri-fold, then fold in half. Then set the few pair that are not a scary shade of red on top and set them in a drawer. You never know who will be snooping.Shirts: This is simple. Go to Wal-mart, and I think it is isle 12A and purchase about 45 hangers. Hang each of these shirts up right when you get them out of the dryer and "whalaa," you have only slightly wrinkled shirts to wear all week. Shorts: Fold in half and put in drawer, preferably not in your desk drawer. Jeans: I have no idea. I have tried everything I know and they are always wrinkled. Pretty much I think the only solution is to just keep buying new jeans or ask a pro. OK, these are only suggestions I repeat. The best way always is to have your mom do all the laundry, because then that means they will be folded properly as well.
4. How do you get tomato juice out of a nice $90 shirt? I don't know. I would suggest just getting nine $10 shirts at Wal-mart so that if it happens again you can just throw one away instead of being upset.
5. What is that buzzing sound that keeps going off?? Oh! That is my last load of clothes. I got some tri-folding of red roos to do and a pillow to get to my bed.
Until next time.
Monday, August 28, 2006
My United States of Change.
You all know me and know that I can carry on for a lengthy time about almost nothing at all and somehow I can make something interesting and logical seem boring and confusing. Well I don't plan on stopping that trend, because I think my insomnia brain is at it again. It has been in high gear all weekend thinking on a great many things, and I am going to try and pull out of it a thought that crossed it not too long ago. It has been rumored that I am 43 years old from some of the tabloid pictures that have been surfacing, but it is really a reality that I am a healthy 28 year old. And while that may seem old to you third graders that stumble upon this in computer class, it is quite young to you 80 year olds that will never read this because computers have not been budgeted into the local nursing homes yet. Anyways, I have however allowed my busy brain a few thoughts about the fact that being 28 means one thing. That you most likely graduated from high school 10 years ago. It also means that your insurance goes down, as long as you have not has three really bad wrecks and four speeding tickets, and two unpaid parking violations, but that is irrelevant. Ten years removed from High School also translates into a ten year reunion. And after all these unnecessary words that I like to describe as filler, I get to my point, or my thought.
I got a message from an old friend, that I have not seen since I was still in high school, the other day. In that note was a simple request, that on the surface seemed like a easy request, but once I started responding it was a very thought prodding, mind bending, sleep zapping request. "Fill me in on what you have been up to over the past ten years!?" See, seems simple enouph. But not to someone who can think a mountain from a mole hill. But that is what I did. I thought on it. To be honest I thought on it like five seconds before I started writing my response. "I have been in a constant state of sameness," I found my fingers typing. That is when I had to stop and really focus my attention away from other thoughts. What did I just type? "state of sameness..." Obviously my fingers and my brain came up with that with on their own. But it did strangely enouph cause me to come to the conclusion that they were right. I have been in a "state of sameness" over much of this past ten years.
While I am not taking a huge crack at myself, because I am probably the best at not changing that is out there, I do realize that it might be time to change. It is either change or I will be 38, still rent a house from a friend, still eat Sugar Pops cereal every morning, still wear Doc Martins to meet girls, still part my hair down the middle in what looks like butt cheeks on my head... oh wait I did actually change that, although reluctantly at first. Now that I see old pictures of it, I realize that not only did I do myself a huge favor, I did North America an huge favor as well. My sameness has carried over to my wardrobe as well, which has been publicly ridiculed on many occasions. I have Izod shirts that date way back to when they were not cool to wear and you could get them for six bucks at Sears with a coupon. I still only have a pair of trendy jeans, and as it was pointed out to me earlier I have not one, but "a few" trendy shirts. The thing is, it can be proved with help of pictures that some of my trendy shirts I have worn, have shown up in pictures that date 1998 as well as 2006. Scary I know. I still have the same bad sleeping patterns. Well, a pattern suggests that it is consistent, and I guess that is true, because I pretty much do not ever feel I am ready to go to bed each night. The unwritten checklist of being ready to sleep would have all checks(tired/check, late at night/check, brushed teeth/check, checked mypace/check), but I still find myself laying there going over every possible senario life could take in my head, or getting up and getting on the computer and spitting out words at an alarmingly misspelled rate. Scary I know. Movies and music have also been in a pretty still state, I have only recently figured out that there is newer music on the market then Bon Jovi, Areosmith, and Enya. I think I will always love movies and if I am stuck in sameness in regards to my movie watching I feel I will be ok with that, maybe I will watch more with my eyes closed as to help compensate for my sleep issues:) Furthermore, I have done the same thing at work(I have said "Have a good day" with a smile over a million times I am pretty sure), I have dated the same non-existent girl(yes you read that right) and I have hung out with the same buddies every weekend(we tend to find some form of trouble to get in) for the past 10 years. Amazing huh? Well, while I can't say I regret any time in the past ten years, because I think that is pointless and it will get you no where except a size 8 straight jacket, shipped to 34 Raddison Road and placed in room 233 for three months and 12 days, I can say that it has been instresting to look back in my thoughts and see how not much has changed. Anyways, the future is called the future for just that reason because it is not the past. That is a sentence only someone that is so tired he can't sleep, can come up with. So, as of tonight, I am waging war with the state of sameness that has been ruling my body for the past ten years. My United States of Sameness is going down and I am hoping to replace it with something much more exciting and fulfilling. If My United States of Lotto Millionaire does not pan out then I believe I will settle for My United Sates of Change. It's a ten year term so well see how it goes.
Until next time.
I got a message from an old friend, that I have not seen since I was still in high school, the other day. In that note was a simple request, that on the surface seemed like a easy request, but once I started responding it was a very thought prodding, mind bending, sleep zapping request. "Fill me in on what you have been up to over the past ten years!?" See, seems simple enouph. But not to someone who can think a mountain from a mole hill. But that is what I did. I thought on it. To be honest I thought on it like five seconds before I started writing my response. "I have been in a constant state of sameness," I found my fingers typing. That is when I had to stop and really focus my attention away from other thoughts. What did I just type? "state of sameness..." Obviously my fingers and my brain came up with that with on their own. But it did strangely enouph cause me to come to the conclusion that they were right. I have been in a "state of sameness" over much of this past ten years.
While I am not taking a huge crack at myself, because I am probably the best at not changing that is out there, I do realize that it might be time to change. It is either change or I will be 38, still rent a house from a friend, still eat Sugar Pops cereal every morning, still wear Doc Martins to meet girls, still part my hair down the middle in what looks like butt cheeks on my head... oh wait I did actually change that, although reluctantly at first. Now that I see old pictures of it, I realize that not only did I do myself a huge favor, I did North America an huge favor as well. My sameness has carried over to my wardrobe as well, which has been publicly ridiculed on many occasions. I have Izod shirts that date way back to when they were not cool to wear and you could get them for six bucks at Sears with a coupon. I still only have a pair of trendy jeans, and as it was pointed out to me earlier I have not one, but "a few" trendy shirts. The thing is, it can be proved with help of pictures that some of my trendy shirts I have worn, have shown up in pictures that date 1998 as well as 2006. Scary I know. I still have the same bad sleeping patterns. Well, a pattern suggests that it is consistent, and I guess that is true, because I pretty much do not ever feel I am ready to go to bed each night. The unwritten checklist of being ready to sleep would have all checks(tired/check, late at night/check, brushed teeth/check, checked mypace/check), but I still find myself laying there going over every possible senario life could take in my head, or getting up and getting on the computer and spitting out words at an alarmingly misspelled rate. Scary I know. Movies and music have also been in a pretty still state, I have only recently figured out that there is newer music on the market then Bon Jovi, Areosmith, and Enya. I think I will always love movies and if I am stuck in sameness in regards to my movie watching I feel I will be ok with that, maybe I will watch more with my eyes closed as to help compensate for my sleep issues:) Furthermore, I have done the same thing at work(I have said "Have a good day" with a smile over a million times I am pretty sure), I have dated the same non-existent girl(yes you read that right) and I have hung out with the same buddies every weekend(we tend to find some form of trouble to get in) for the past 10 years. Amazing huh? Well, while I can't say I regret any time in the past ten years, because I think that is pointless and it will get you no where except a size 8 straight jacket, shipped to 34 Raddison Road and placed in room 233 for three months and 12 days, I can say that it has been instresting to look back in my thoughts and see how not much has changed. Anyways, the future is called the future for just that reason because it is not the past. That is a sentence only someone that is so tired he can't sleep, can come up with. So, as of tonight, I am waging war with the state of sameness that has been ruling my body for the past ten years. My United States of Sameness is going down and I am hoping to replace it with something much more exciting and fulfilling. If My United States of Lotto Millionaire does not pan out then I believe I will settle for My United Sates of Change. It's a ten year term so well see how it goes.
Until next time.
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
A Poem that is Best Read With Eyes Closed.
As I sit here so tired tonight,
and thinking of a blog to write.
My eyes are red and my body spent,
I don't know where my mind just went.
Things are great, the night is young,
in four more hours I will see the sun.
I have no thoughts just jumbled jargon,
So if I confuse, you'll have to pardon.
For it is quite late, and I am tired,
Yet my insomniac brain, is all wired.
It seems to wake up at this time each night,
blending on high, once I turn off the light.
It thinks of this, it dwells on that,
It remembers a face, it replays a chat.
My thoughts get in fights, sometimes a rout,
Some thoughts go in, and they never come out.
I think on some dreams, I think on some fears,
I remember some thoughts that come with some tears.
Some thoughts are grand, and others are lost,
But at this hour, most seem to get crossed.
Meaning some get crazy, yet others stay chill,
If thoughts were a liquid, an ocean I'd fill.
Wave upon wave, thoughts enter my brain,
and it is a blog, that can act as a drain.
So forgive me each night, if I start to bore,
fileing these thoughts, has been quite a chore.
If thinking were a test, I would get an A-plus,
the fact that it's not, keeps me on the short bus.
For when it gets late, my mind can go bonkers,
As far as I see here, I can only use yonkers.
It is now three hours until I see the sun,
my brain says its just starting to have fun.
This is what I deal with, each and every night,
Though I've tried to stop it with all my might.
I'm weak when it comes, to controling my head,
I know the simple cure is to just go to my bed.
Yet sitting and writting, seems to win each time,
as does ending each line with a dumb little rhyme.
It is getting so late, and why don't I stop?
It's my brains fault, whould ya lake to swap?
I'll take your silence, as a polite decline,
and try hard to stop, these thoughts of mine.
Because I know you think, this will never end,
I should let you know now, I've yet to begin.
So grab a blanket, and close your eyes,
put up your feet, and just relax you guys.
For I am about write, what i think will be,
the shortest peom, you will ever read.
It came from a thought, I had tonight,
Just minutes before, the morning light.
I have been thinking for the past few days,
just how to word it, the most perfect of ways.
And then tonight, in what seemed like a year,
my mind grew strong, and my thoughts so clear.
I wanted to share, the shortest of qips,
a little phrase, to be said by some lips.
So prepare yourself, prepare your minds,
for this may be, the the best you find.
Long borging poems, can be quite a drag,
but a quite little saying, has has no lag.
So I leave you with this, one last rhyme,
please don't be mad,
Until next time.
and thinking of a blog to write.
My eyes are red and my body spent,
I don't know where my mind just went.
Things are great, the night is young,
in four more hours I will see the sun.
I have no thoughts just jumbled jargon,
So if I confuse, you'll have to pardon.
For it is quite late, and I am tired,
Yet my insomniac brain, is all wired.
It seems to wake up at this time each night,
blending on high, once I turn off the light.
It thinks of this, it dwells on that,
It remembers a face, it replays a chat.
My thoughts get in fights, sometimes a rout,
Some thoughts go in, and they never come out.
I think on some dreams, I think on some fears,
I remember some thoughts that come with some tears.
Some thoughts are grand, and others are lost,
But at this hour, most seem to get crossed.
Meaning some get crazy, yet others stay chill,
If thoughts were a liquid, an ocean I'd fill.
Wave upon wave, thoughts enter my brain,
and it is a blog, that can act as a drain.
So forgive me each night, if I start to bore,
fileing these thoughts, has been quite a chore.
If thinking were a test, I would get an A-plus,
the fact that it's not, keeps me on the short bus.
For when it gets late, my mind can go bonkers,
As far as I see here, I can only use yonkers.
It is now three hours until I see the sun,
my brain says its just starting to have fun.
This is what I deal with, each and every night,
Though I've tried to stop it with all my might.
I'm weak when it comes, to controling my head,
I know the simple cure is to just go to my bed.
Yet sitting and writting, seems to win each time,
as does ending each line with a dumb little rhyme.
It is getting so late, and why don't I stop?
It's my brains fault, whould ya lake to swap?
I'll take your silence, as a polite decline,
and try hard to stop, these thoughts of mine.
Because I know you think, this will never end,
I should let you know now, I've yet to begin.
So grab a blanket, and close your eyes,
put up your feet, and just relax you guys.
For I am about write, what i think will be,
the shortest peom, you will ever read.
It came from a thought, I had tonight,
Just minutes before, the morning light.
I have been thinking for the past few days,
just how to word it, the most perfect of ways.
And then tonight, in what seemed like a year,
my mind grew strong, and my thoughts so clear.
I wanted to share, the shortest of qips,
a little phrase, to be said by some lips.
So prepare yourself, prepare your minds,
for this may be, the the best you find.
Long borging poems, can be quite a drag,
but a quite little saying, has has no lag.
So I leave you with this, one last rhyme,
please don't be mad,
Until next time.
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
A Reality Sing-along Broadway Show Bad Idea
Could you be yourself if cameras followed you around constantly and you were forced to live in a house, on an island, or in an office? I have trouble being myself in front of a crowd of five let alone the whole world. Anyways, reality t.v. of course is all over the television right now. Nothing is sacred. Weddings, honeymoons, births, barmitsvahs, getting arrested even just plain old normal family life(Osbornes and Hogan Knows Best) have all been turned into reality shows. Recently I learned American Idol try outs are coming to town and that means one thing. I had a thought, that snowballed into an elaborate dumb idea. Which further means you get to now hear my pitch for a Reality Broadway Musical.
If you stuck around to read about this idea then you are in luck. Because if marketed right I think this could be the best musical every to come out of Broadway, except Cats of course. Anyways, the beauty of this Reality Musical is that there would only need to be one cast member. I assume you are rolling your eyes now, but I am serious. Actually the main cast members would be from the audience that come to each sold out performance. The idea is that most people I know, heck everyone I have ever met, likes to sing. While a lot of these people are actually good singers some even being great, the majority can not sing very well. That is until they are put into the right circumstance. So, while my Reality Sing-a-long musical would be marketed toward every level of singer, I feel the people that would enjoy this musical the most are those of us that have below par "on our own" voices. Knowing nothing about musicals except that they are broken into ACTS, I have insomniacly come up with a four ACTS. Weather or not you want to know what they are, I am going to bore you with them any ways. I will creatively start off with Act One.
ACT ONE-GETTING WARM:
In front of the curtain the star of the show, the one paid cast member would enter from the left. This person would be me, mainly because that is who I keep picturing as that person, feel free to place your self in this position if it makes it easier for you. So, I would come out on stage to a packed house of screaming women all wanting me, and I would explain to them the events that are about to take place, sharing with them that the whole audience is the cast, and as much crowd participation as possible only makes the show better. I would them dip behind the curtain, then a five second pause, then the curtain would fly open at an alarmingly fast rate. What would be on stage will be almost to much to behold for first time viewers...For it will be a lone grand shower sitting there in the center of the stage. The tune Hey Jude would start to play and that is when the audience would notice that I am in the shower with a mic. I encourage everyone to sing-along with me in the shower. And in a shamefully off key tone I would lead the audience in singing the Beatles wonderful ballad. And during the song 20 more showers would some how rise up on the stage, and assistances would grab random audience members and lead them to the different showers. They would be all kinds, some would even be dirty to resemble a batcholer pads shower. In each stall there would be fake water spraying and there would be a mic in the shape of a bottle of shampoo that the audience members would belt the tune into. Whitney Houston's, I Will Always Love
You would then start playing and the crowd would go crazy and be in a frenzy. Video cameras would be capturing the shower singers and the mics would be pumped through the speakers at an even louder rate. The mix of good to bad singers would be awesome. And the whole audience would be in tears they would be enjoying it so much. I would be out of the shower, in a towel and I would be ridiculously muscular and not grey headed and I would be pumping the crowd up even more to try to really get to the high parts. This ACT ONE would close with a Poison Ballad, probably Wind of Change because I like to whistle in the shower and hence I figure that means everyone else must like to as well. And it would be a good transition to ACT TWO.
ACT TWO-GETTING READY:
Here I would explain to the audience that the seats they are currently sitting in are special. And at that moment out of the top of the seat in front of them would appear a vanity mirror. I would share with them that this segment is all about singing your heart out into the mirror while getting ready to go out. While the last of the whistling is playing from Wind of Change, I would step in front of the closing curtain, still in my towel because no one cares they are too busy wiping tears of joy from their eyes. I explain that I will need 30 volunteer singers for this ACT and I would pick out a wide variety of suckers to come up on stage. As we all stand in front of the curtain I would explain that they will be standing behind the mirrors that will appear and that they should sing their lungs into a couphing frenzy if they can. About that time the curtain would whip open at a wickedly fast speed and there would sit 30 varying stations that included mirrors of course and hair brushes, curling irons and all sorts of stuff to use as a microphone. At that moment Breakfast at Tiffany's by Deep Blue Something would start up over the overhead speakers and the whole place would be rocking. The video cameras would be ignored my the wannabe singers that get lost in singing in front of the reflection of themselves having the time of their life. The next song would come on to a deafening roar of anticipation and joy. For the next song would get things rocking a bit. Simi-charmed Life would then come on by Third Eye Blind, only because I have drawn a tired blank of what else could play at such a spectacular event. SO I would quickly change it to Justin Timberlake which would be followed by ear piercing screams by all the girls. Cry Me A river would play and the main fun of this part is to see how people dance to the beat in front of their personal mirrors. This section would end with a classic by one of my favorite artists because I would have control over what songs are played until people that know what they are doing are hired to do this for me. Anyways... The crowd would then sing to the classic Give a Little Bit by Supertramp. This would get the audience time to try and harmonize together. Every one would now be taking pride in their bad singing, and hear it less, and would begin to feel that they are solely responsible for keeping the show going. It will be so great to see. It will all be on film. And their would be an intermission at this point for everyone to talk about either A) How good the show is or B) Why did we pay this money when this is what I do at home.
ACT three is still a few moments away, but in blog terms it is probably a few days away. Check back and see how my life changing play ends, or just go grab your MP3 player and belt out some of your favorite tunes. Let me know what song you'd like to see sung in this history changing musical. I might be able to get you some front row seats if we use it. Until next time.
If you stuck around to read about this idea then you are in luck. Because if marketed right I think this could be the best musical every to come out of Broadway, except Cats of course. Anyways, the beauty of this Reality Musical is that there would only need to be one cast member. I assume you are rolling your eyes now, but I am serious. Actually the main cast members would be from the audience that come to each sold out performance. The idea is that most people I know, heck everyone I have ever met, likes to sing. While a lot of these people are actually good singers some even being great, the majority can not sing very well. That is until they are put into the right circumstance. So, while my Reality Sing-a-long musical would be marketed toward every level of singer, I feel the people that would enjoy this musical the most are those of us that have below par "on our own" voices. Knowing nothing about musicals except that they are broken into ACTS, I have insomniacly come up with a four ACTS. Weather or not you want to know what they are, I am going to bore you with them any ways. I will creatively start off with Act One.
ACT ONE-GETTING WARM:
In front of the curtain the star of the show, the one paid cast member would enter from the left. This person would be me, mainly because that is who I keep picturing as that person, feel free to place your self in this position if it makes it easier for you. So, I would come out on stage to a packed house of screaming women all wanting me, and I would explain to them the events that are about to take place, sharing with them that the whole audience is the cast, and as much crowd participation as possible only makes the show better. I would them dip behind the curtain, then a five second pause, then the curtain would fly open at an alarmingly fast rate. What would be on stage will be almost to much to behold for first time viewers...For it will be a lone grand shower sitting there in the center of the stage. The tune Hey Jude would start to play and that is when the audience would notice that I am in the shower with a mic. I encourage everyone to sing-along with me in the shower. And in a shamefully off key tone I would lead the audience in singing the Beatles wonderful ballad. And during the song 20 more showers would some how rise up on the stage, and assistances would grab random audience members and lead them to the different showers. They would be all kinds, some would even be dirty to resemble a batcholer pads shower. In each stall there would be fake water spraying and there would be a mic in the shape of a bottle of shampoo that the audience members would belt the tune into. Whitney Houston's, I Will Always Love
You would then start playing and the crowd would go crazy and be in a frenzy. Video cameras would be capturing the shower singers and the mics would be pumped through the speakers at an even louder rate. The mix of good to bad singers would be awesome. And the whole audience would be in tears they would be enjoying it so much. I would be out of the shower, in a towel and I would be ridiculously muscular and not grey headed and I would be pumping the crowd up even more to try to really get to the high parts. This ACT ONE would close with a Poison Ballad, probably Wind of Change because I like to whistle in the shower and hence I figure that means everyone else must like to as well. And it would be a good transition to ACT TWO.
ACT TWO-GETTING READY:
Here I would explain to the audience that the seats they are currently sitting in are special. And at that moment out of the top of the seat in front of them would appear a vanity mirror. I would share with them that this segment is all about singing your heart out into the mirror while getting ready to go out. While the last of the whistling is playing from Wind of Change, I would step in front of the closing curtain, still in my towel because no one cares they are too busy wiping tears of joy from their eyes. I explain that I will need 30 volunteer singers for this ACT and I would pick out a wide variety of suckers to come up on stage. As we all stand in front of the curtain I would explain that they will be standing behind the mirrors that will appear and that they should sing their lungs into a couphing frenzy if they can. About that time the curtain would whip open at a wickedly fast speed and there would sit 30 varying stations that included mirrors of course and hair brushes, curling irons and all sorts of stuff to use as a microphone. At that moment Breakfast at Tiffany's by Deep Blue Something would start up over the overhead speakers and the whole place would be rocking. The video cameras would be ignored my the wannabe singers that get lost in singing in front of the reflection of themselves having the time of their life. The next song would come on to a deafening roar of anticipation and joy. For the next song would get things rocking a bit. Simi-charmed Life would then come on by Third Eye Blind, only because I have drawn a tired blank of what else could play at such a spectacular event. SO I would quickly change it to Justin Timberlake which would be followed by ear piercing screams by all the girls. Cry Me A river would play and the main fun of this part is to see how people dance to the beat in front of their personal mirrors. This section would end with a classic by one of my favorite artists because I would have control over what songs are played until people that know what they are doing are hired to do this for me. Anyways... The crowd would then sing to the classic Give a Little Bit by Supertramp. This would get the audience time to try and harmonize together. Every one would now be taking pride in their bad singing, and hear it less, and would begin to feel that they are solely responsible for keeping the show going. It will be so great to see. It will all be on film. And their would be an intermission at this point for everyone to talk about either A) How good the show is or B) Why did we pay this money when this is what I do at home.
ACT three is still a few moments away, but in blog terms it is probably a few days away. Check back and see how my life changing play ends, or just go grab your MP3 player and belt out some of your favorite tunes. Let me know what song you'd like to see sung in this history changing musical. I might be able to get you some front row seats if we use it. Until next time.
Friday, July 28, 2006
You Never Get What You Paid For
I have been in vacation so i have been unable too funtion as a bad wighter(i.e. this sentence). But these tens days off have cleared my head, blistered my face and also prepared me to figure out one of life's lessons. "You never get what you paid for" Bare with me....
I learned that if you reach your credit limit on your credit card that they will send you a letter that does not say, "You are in debt, and will be judged harshly in Heaven!" It does say however, "We are happy that you, our honored spender, are reaching your limit. As a reward we are going to raise your limit, so that you, our honored spender can continue to have fun." Amazing. The small print I found out after I had already had the fun reads, "Since we are allowing your fun to continue, we hope you find that the 19% raise in your APR (bringing it to 57%), to be fair and reasonable. Thank you our honored spender." Not Amazing. But this caused me to think, as pretty much anything does, and I started to figure out what using a credit card to buy small unimportant things does. It turns them into extravagant ultra-important things once you get them paid off. Allow me to digress. You can purchase a small item on your credit card, mainly because it is easy, but through a process called "hahahahaha your screwed," interest is tacked on to this small item causing it to really cost you like a million times more then what you paid originally. Anyways, to tell you the truth, and I never lie in these blogs:), I came up with five real life examples of this phenomenon.
----ONE -----
Pizza from Little Ceasers is cheap. Buying a classy Italian Resturante is not so cheap. Always take cash with you to pay for a pizza, or else you will end up paying for way more than just heart burn.
ORIGINALLY SPENT---$6.11 on large Hot-n-Ready pizza.
PAID FOR A---$61,930.45 classy Italian Resturante that takes credit cards.
----TWO----
Running out of batteries to control the remote to the T.V. is a bad hindrance especially when Growing Up Gatti is about to come on and you don't know how to turn the T.V. on at the base. You better remember your Lincolns if your going to make a quick trip to the corner store to make this purchase. It is next to impossible not be enticed by cold Big Red while there picking up the batteries, at least for me it is.
ORIGINALLY SPENT---$4.78 on two AAA batteries and a 79ounce Big Red.
PAID FOR A---$6,230.32 flat panel 79inch television that has no batteries and a $4,900.00 bottle of 79 year old wine(stainless steel cork screw included).
----THREE----
Shopping during a sale is a good thing, we all can admit that. But bargain bin scouring, drive-all-over-town price matching, liquidation hound shopping is an art only a few people possess. But it is important to note, if you are this person you should not use your card to pay for any of these "deals." I am not one of these people but all I had was plastic one time at the Kohls "Once In A Lifetime 99% Off Sale."
ORIGINALLY SPENT---$13.22 on two pair of untrendy fake cotton Polos.
PAID FOR A---$113,334.87 closet full of custom made trendy not-fake silk Armani suites(comes to just five suites actually).
----FOUR----
Not wanting to smell bad is a goal of almost everyone not living in France. But cash is the way to go when it is time to restock the Clear Stick long lasting deodorant. It almost may be better to move to France and stink rather then charge a b.o. blocker.
ORIGINALLY SPENT---$3.45 on everyday no-name brand of 24-hour protection pit spray.
PAID FOR A---$33,984.00 surgery that replaces your glands that produce bad smells with a gland that emits smells that attracts women($472/month x 6years =$33,984 if you wanted to know.) Because, I did.
----FIVE----
Enjoying cultures of a distant country should be a requirement in life. Eating exotic foods, drinking a foreign drink even traveling to a land and soaking it all in. Another good way is the try the Hookah or Nargile, a smoking devise that comes from the ancient India and Turkey. The taste is sweet, often tasting like oranges even if it shouldn't. Bring a Benjamin to these special times though because it is better to smoke with friends then through a Visa.
ORIGINALLY SPENT---$14.50 on a Hookah filled with oil saturated something.
PAID FOR A---$150,000 truckload of pure 100% Columbian Cocaine. Why it paid for this exactly is not quite clear to me. I have to check the fine print on my statement.
Until next time.
p.s. I was going to write about Hookahs and its wonderful history. But since I was just introduced to them tonight, I have decided to wait a few days. That way I would know everything and pass it on to you.
I learned that if you reach your credit limit on your credit card that they will send you a letter that does not say, "You are in debt, and will be judged harshly in Heaven!" It does say however, "We are happy that you, our honored spender, are reaching your limit. As a reward we are going to raise your limit, so that you, our honored spender can continue to have fun." Amazing. The small print I found out after I had already had the fun reads, "Since we are allowing your fun to continue, we hope you find that the 19% raise in your APR (bringing it to 57%), to be fair and reasonable. Thank you our honored spender." Not Amazing. But this caused me to think, as pretty much anything does, and I started to figure out what using a credit card to buy small unimportant things does. It turns them into extravagant ultra-important things once you get them paid off. Allow me to digress. You can purchase a small item on your credit card, mainly because it is easy, but through a process called "hahahahaha your screwed," interest is tacked on to this small item causing it to really cost you like a million times more then what you paid originally. Anyways, to tell you the truth, and I never lie in these blogs:), I came up with five real life examples of this phenomenon.
----ONE -----
Pizza from Little Ceasers is cheap. Buying a classy Italian Resturante is not so cheap. Always take cash with you to pay for a pizza, or else you will end up paying for way more than just heart burn.
ORIGINALLY SPENT---$6.11 on large Hot-n-Ready pizza.
PAID FOR A---$61,930.45 classy Italian Resturante that takes credit cards.
----TWO----
Running out of batteries to control the remote to the T.V. is a bad hindrance especially when Growing Up Gatti is about to come on and you don't know how to turn the T.V. on at the base. You better remember your Lincolns if your going to make a quick trip to the corner store to make this purchase. It is next to impossible not be enticed by cold Big Red while there picking up the batteries, at least for me it is.
ORIGINALLY SPENT---$4.78 on two AAA batteries and a 79ounce Big Red.
PAID FOR A---$6,230.32 flat panel 79inch television that has no batteries and a $4,900.00 bottle of 79 year old wine(stainless steel cork screw included).
----THREE----
Shopping during a sale is a good thing, we all can admit that. But bargain bin scouring, drive-all-over-town price matching, liquidation hound shopping is an art only a few people possess. But it is important to note, if you are this person you should not use your card to pay for any of these "deals." I am not one of these people but all I had was plastic one time at the Kohls "Once In A Lifetime 99% Off Sale."
ORIGINALLY SPENT---$13.22 on two pair of untrendy fake cotton Polos.
PAID FOR A---$113,334.87 closet full of custom made trendy not-fake silk Armani suites(comes to just five suites actually).
----FOUR----
Not wanting to smell bad is a goal of almost everyone not living in France. But cash is the way to go when it is time to restock the Clear Stick long lasting deodorant. It almost may be better to move to France and stink rather then charge a b.o. blocker.
ORIGINALLY SPENT---$3.45 on everyday no-name brand of 24-hour protection pit spray.
PAID FOR A---$33,984.00 surgery that replaces your glands that produce bad smells with a gland that emits smells that attracts women($472/month x 6years =$33,984 if you wanted to know.) Because, I did.
----FIVE----
Enjoying cultures of a distant country should be a requirement in life. Eating exotic foods, drinking a foreign drink even traveling to a land and soaking it all in. Another good way is the try the Hookah or Nargile, a smoking devise that comes from the ancient India and Turkey. The taste is sweet, often tasting like oranges even if it shouldn't. Bring a Benjamin to these special times though because it is better to smoke with friends then through a Visa.
ORIGINALLY SPENT---$14.50 on a Hookah filled with oil saturated something.
PAID FOR A---$150,000 truckload of pure 100% Columbian Cocaine. Why it paid for this exactly is not quite clear to me. I have to check the fine print on my statement.
Until next time.
p.s. I was going to write about Hookahs and its wonderful history. But since I was just introduced to them tonight, I have decided to wait a few days. That way I would know everything and pass it on to you.
Monday, July 17, 2006
The Perfect (Healthy)Omelet, Almost.
Hello everyone. 'One' being the key. This is a great week. Would you like to know why? No, it is not because Fraggle Rock is in talks to make a Hollywood movie, even though that is awesome. It is the simple fact, that I will be out of the country in 4 days. Puerto Vallarta to be specific. For those of you that don't know it is the best place on earth somewhere in Mexico. It gets even better. Not only will I not be working, but I will have an ocean view room,unlimited sun as well as countless opportunities to people watch. When I say people watch, I of course mean female watch. And when I say female watch, I mean bikini watch. I know that could seem a bit sexist, for some reason. I heard it said just recently the point that it is weird that the girls that are embarrassed if they are seen in their underwear or what not out on the street are the same girls that wear a dental floss bikini two sizes to small on the beach and not be embarrassed one bit. Anyways... I am getting distracted... I will be in Mexico, I will be ooggleing and best of all, all my food and drinks will be gratis. For the non-Spanish speaking reader, that means FREE. And that is just what I mean, I will be getting all the food I want and all the drinks(by drinks I mean ALCOHOL) by just snapping my fingers and a midget in a tux will bring it to me. Ok, so I may be over playing it a bit but I am excited about the free food especially. I know that is hard to believe if you know me, but the fact is, I have been having to make my own food the past 11 days and have been eating healthy and while I am proud of myself for doing it, it has been painful. Mainly in the breakfast area. I have attempted to make an omelet the past 11 days and have had two fire alarms go off, had several arm and hand burns, and 10 crying spells. I feel it is safe to admit this because my reading base is as small as an anorexic's ideal dress size. Anyways... This morning JULY 17th, 2006 I created The Perfect Omelet, almost. I say 'almost' because it happened to be the first one that tasted, smelled and looked good, so maybe it could be better. I should also interject here, that this would also be catigorized as a healthy omelet, which at first thought you would think that means it can't taste good. You are almost correct, but if you follow these simple steps I believe you will enjoy your mornings ten fold, because you will have made the The Perfect Healthy Omelet, almost.
INGREDIENTS: This is the easy part. Just buy some Southwestern Egg Beaters. Yes, you guessed it, these are eggs that do not come from chickens(even though the box clearly states they are). I think they come from a machine that separates all the evil(yummy) parts of an egg and then squirts what is left in to a huge mixing bowl the size of a welfare house. Then another machine that somehow makes salsa(green chilies, onion, spices, tomato) squirts its concoction in to the bowl and a huge helicopter with a spoon tied to it then stirs these two into one happy family. Next a little conveyer belt with 4 ounce boxes, made from recycled corn stalks, conveys by an opening at the bottom of the huge bowl, where with the sound of a whoopee cushion squirts the "egg beater" into the box. Then it is shipped to H.E.B.. So, just pick up one of those, as well as some Canadian bacon slices. Surprisingly to note, there are healthy Canadians and unhealthy Canadians. You want the bacon that is made from the healthy ones. Some low-fat cheese is optional, mainly because I keep forgetting to put it on my omelets. And that is all the ingredients you need, unless you are like me and need to by a skillet, a spatula and protective goggles. Opps... One more thing, some Pam oil spray stuff. Get they healthy kind again, or else the whole thing doesn't work.
DIRECTIONS: Here comes the hard part. Omelets may seem easy to you, but it is because through great trial and error and error and error, I figured it out. First, get a pan set it on stove and turn on the stove. This may seem like an unnecessary step, but I found out that it is necessary the hard way. Next, slice up two pieces of Canadian bacon into little squares. And throw them into the pan. I hope you remembered to spay a little of the Pam spray onto the pan before you did this. I mentioned this after putting the Canadian bacon in the pan(which is on the heated stove) because I have yet to remember to spray the pan first. I tend to spray it while the bacon sits there. I hope that is why the CB tastes so good, and I also hope that doesn't gross you out. So the Canadian Bacon is cooking. Through experience, the stove does not need to be too high for this part(more on temp later:( I need to warn you about something. Canadian Bacon tends to jump into the air once it starts sizzling. Sometimes, onto your face. This is why I wear protective goggles. So, I need to really make a big deal about not having the stove to high, for this next part. KEEP STOVE ON LOW. I mean real low. Because next, with the Canadian Bacon still cooking, pour about 1/4 to 1/2 cups of egg beater into the frying pan. If you hear an immediate sizzling and popping and egg beater starts looking like a lava pit, then the stove is too high. I started my omelet making on as high as my gas stove would go, thinking that it would just mean I could eat the omelet faster. Nothing could be farther from the truth. I burnt it and it was so hot I had to wait twenty minutes for the fire to go out and smoke to clear before I could not enjoy it. So, what I am getting at is to let this baby slow roast. This morning I put a timer on it and it took about 6 minutes, just enouph time for me to take one of my famous 5 minute showers. Once the top begins to look cooked you will want to sprinkle cheese neatly across the center of your circle of fake egg healthy omelet. Next, use the spatula and fold one side up onto the neatly laid cheese, followed by simply lifting the other side up on to the middle. It should look nice and neat and perfect. If it doesn't and you feel like chunking it across the room and crying, that is ok, it took me ten times to get it perfect, almost. Move it onto a plate, smile and clap(jump up and down if that is your thing).
ENJOY: If you have survived this whole ordeal. This is the best part. Eat that sucker. Be careful though, with all the Pam that is on it, you are in danger of ruining you your good work clothes with greesey Canadian Bacon droppings(yes, I have had to toss out three pair of cut off jean shorts). But I promise if you follow these simple and extremely drawn out steps you will most likely still want to go to your nearest Denny's and order The Perfect Omelet. Until next time.
INGREDIENTS: This is the easy part. Just buy some Southwestern Egg Beaters. Yes, you guessed it, these are eggs that do not come from chickens(even though the box clearly states they are). I think they come from a machine that separates all the evil(yummy) parts of an egg and then squirts what is left in to a huge mixing bowl the size of a welfare house. Then another machine that somehow makes salsa(green chilies, onion, spices, tomato) squirts its concoction in to the bowl and a huge helicopter with a spoon tied to it then stirs these two into one happy family. Next a little conveyer belt with 4 ounce boxes, made from recycled corn stalks, conveys by an opening at the bottom of the huge bowl, where with the sound of a whoopee cushion squirts the "egg beater" into the box. Then it is shipped to H.E.B.. So, just pick up one of those, as well as some Canadian bacon slices. Surprisingly to note, there are healthy Canadians and unhealthy Canadians. You want the bacon that is made from the healthy ones. Some low-fat cheese is optional, mainly because I keep forgetting to put it on my omelets. And that is all the ingredients you need, unless you are like me and need to by a skillet, a spatula and protective goggles. Opps... One more thing, some Pam oil spray stuff. Get they healthy kind again, or else the whole thing doesn't work.
DIRECTIONS: Here comes the hard part. Omelets may seem easy to you, but it is because through great trial and error and error and error, I figured it out. First, get a pan set it on stove and turn on the stove. This may seem like an unnecessary step, but I found out that it is necessary the hard way. Next, slice up two pieces of Canadian bacon into little squares. And throw them into the pan. I hope you remembered to spay a little of the Pam spray onto the pan before you did this. I mentioned this after putting the Canadian bacon in the pan(which is on the heated stove) because I have yet to remember to spray the pan first. I tend to spray it while the bacon sits there. I hope that is why the CB tastes so good, and I also hope that doesn't gross you out. So the Canadian Bacon is cooking. Through experience, the stove does not need to be too high for this part(more on temp later:( I need to warn you about something. Canadian Bacon tends to jump into the air once it starts sizzling. Sometimes, onto your face. This is why I wear protective goggles. So, I need to really make a big deal about not having the stove to high, for this next part. KEEP STOVE ON LOW. I mean real low. Because next, with the Canadian Bacon still cooking, pour about 1/4 to 1/2 cups of egg beater into the frying pan. If you hear an immediate sizzling and popping and egg beater starts looking like a lava pit, then the stove is too high. I started my omelet making on as high as my gas stove would go, thinking that it would just mean I could eat the omelet faster. Nothing could be farther from the truth. I burnt it and it was so hot I had to wait twenty minutes for the fire to go out and smoke to clear before I could not enjoy it. So, what I am getting at is to let this baby slow roast. This morning I put a timer on it and it took about 6 minutes, just enouph time for me to take one of my famous 5 minute showers. Once the top begins to look cooked you will want to sprinkle cheese neatly across the center of your circle of fake egg healthy omelet. Next, use the spatula and fold one side up onto the neatly laid cheese, followed by simply lifting the other side up on to the middle. It should look nice and neat and perfect. If it doesn't and you feel like chunking it across the room and crying, that is ok, it took me ten times to get it perfect, almost. Move it onto a plate, smile and clap(jump up and down if that is your thing).
ENJOY: If you have survived this whole ordeal. This is the best part. Eat that sucker. Be careful though, with all the Pam that is on it, you are in danger of ruining you your good work clothes with greesey Canadian Bacon droppings(yes, I have had to toss out three pair of cut off jean shorts). But I promise if you follow these simple and extremely drawn out steps you will most likely still want to go to your nearest Denny's and order The Perfect Omelet. Until next time.
Monday, July 10, 2006
Eating Healthy will Kill You
Over the past two days, which is longer then I have ever lasted on my self imposed diets, I have attempted just that. To diet. To try and somehow sculpt this "Boss Hog" waist into a lean mean hard body. I know that makes me lauph too. I am really just attempting to get to the point where if I take my shirt off at the beach, the pool or lets say my room, that the ladies do not exit with haste. There are two things that have been a hurtle--no wait--a brick wall in my quest for being fit. They are Fast Deep Fried Foods and the ever so encompassing urge to sit on my ass and do nothing. I usually combined these two, lets call them hobbies, daily, usually three times a day in fact, unless the urge to sit on my ass and do nothing over takes the urge to eat something greasy. I am sure you know I maybe over play my problems a bit. So let me assure you, I can still move pretty quickly on the basketball court and I can still climb one flight of stairs with out breaking into a profound sweat. But it was three weeks ago where I had a "hello stupid?" moment. I was on the basketball court(yes the one I claimed I can more quickly on
) warming up to play in a game for the next hour and a half. WARMING UP! Next thing I know, I am bent over out of breath and for some reason craving a double quarter pounder from Mc D's. This couldn't be happening, I am athletic I thought to my self and then wheezed. Anyways, being hardbigheaded, I struggled through the game and after being revived by perimedics at half time I made my way to Mc. D's(logicaly), and that is when it first started happening. My desire to better myself actually overtook my desire to do nothing. I now felt very close to making the decision to get back into the gym, but first I was going to order this single quarter pounder! Hey, it's a start.
Well, I sat on my ass and struggled for about two more weeks and then this past Friday I decided to go ahead and make the drastic choice I had been dreading since 3rd grade. I have completely cut out fast 'grease dripping' food from my diet. This may seem easy to most of you that read this, but I on the other hand in the past six years, have probably filled two land fills with the amount of fast food trash I have accumulated. But NO MORE! I now am making my own food, packing a little-low carb-lunches in handy tupperware(which I never knew existed). And you want to know what? I'M STARVING...I found that when I rely on me to make a full meal for myself, I suck at it. I thought I was going to die of hunger pains today and I was craving Sonic so bad that I thought I might die. The worst part was that after work is when I was my hungeriest, and that happens to be the time when every day for the past decade I had a nice fast food meal, neatly wrapped in silky paper and handed to me threw my window. I was determined to hold strong though. I did snap at the people at the post office, but once I explained to them my predicament they just lauphed. Ok, I am now seconds away from the house, passing the last temptation on the way, when it dawns on me... I still have to make my food! Crap. A two tire screetching u-turn in heavy traffic actually crossed my mind, but I am proud to tell you though as soon as I made it in the house, I found some healthy things to snack on and preceded to make a nice meal of beef shish-ka-bobs. I even had enouph to fill a tupperware bowl so that I can take it to work, tomorrow. I am so glad I have made it this far in my healthy diet(torture), even if it is only hour 43(feels like 10,043). I have a trip to Mexico in 10 days, and I am hopeful I will save on luggage space by not having to pack so many t-shirts to cover my 'donut storage tanks'. I am also hopeful that I will not have broken down and robbed Wendy's either due to hunger and fast food lust, or died from my body rejecting this new kind of food being introduced to it. Ok, ok its all about being positive. I am still alive (barely)and I am sure I have already added three minutes to the end of my life with eating so healthily. At this rate I might live long enouph to go on a date. Until next time.
) warming up to play in a game for the next hour and a half. WARMING UP! Next thing I know, I am bent over out of breath and for some reason craving a double quarter pounder from Mc D's. This couldn't be happening, I am athletic I thought to my self and then wheezed. Anyways, being hardbigheaded, I struggled through the game and after being revived by perimedics at half time I made my way to Mc. D's(logicaly), and that is when it first started happening. My desire to better myself actually overtook my desire to do nothing. I now felt very close to making the decision to get back into the gym, but first I was going to order this single quarter pounder! Hey, it's a start.
Well, I sat on my ass and struggled for about two more weeks and then this past Friday I decided to go ahead and make the drastic choice I had been dreading since 3rd grade. I have completely cut out fast 'grease dripping' food from my diet. This may seem easy to most of you that read this, but I on the other hand in the past six years, have probably filled two land fills with the amount of fast food trash I have accumulated. But NO MORE! I now am making my own food, packing a little-low carb-lunches in handy tupperware(which I never knew existed). And you want to know what? I'M STARVING...I found that when I rely on me to make a full meal for myself, I suck at it. I thought I was going to die of hunger pains today and I was craving Sonic so bad that I thought I might die. The worst part was that after work is when I was my hungeriest, and that happens to be the time when every day for the past decade I had a nice fast food meal, neatly wrapped in silky paper and handed to me threw my window. I was determined to hold strong though. I did snap at the people at the post office, but once I explained to them my predicament they just lauphed. Ok, I am now seconds away from the house, passing the last temptation on the way, when it dawns on me... I still have to make my food! Crap. A two tire screetching u-turn in heavy traffic actually crossed my mind, but I am proud to tell you though as soon as I made it in the house, I found some healthy things to snack on and preceded to make a nice meal of beef shish-ka-bobs. I even had enouph to fill a tupperware bowl so that I can take it to work, tomorrow. I am so glad I have made it this far in my healthy diet(torture), even if it is only hour 43(feels like 10,043). I have a trip to Mexico in 10 days, and I am hopeful I will save on luggage space by not having to pack so many t-shirts to cover my 'donut storage tanks'. I am also hopeful that I will not have broken down and robbed Wendy's either due to hunger and fast food lust, or died from my body rejecting this new kind of food being introduced to it. Ok, ok its all about being positive. I am still alive (barely)and I am sure I have already added three minutes to the end of my life with eating so healthily. At this rate I might live long enouph to go on a date. Until next time.
The next blog will be better.
I realised exactlly what keeps me going. Procrastination. I like to put things off until the very last second, leaving next to no time to finish it, and it is always stressful. This is no way to go about life... but the thing is I think I will put off writting a blog until tomorrow. That way I can sleep now. Until next time. 
Thursday, July 06, 2006
The Fourth of July for Dummy Faces
Hope everyone had a good Fourth of July. I had a great one, kind of. I spent it reliving a favorite childhood past time, just in a dangerous way. When I was a child, years and years ago, my parents had 23 medium to large size oak trees in their back yard. I prided myself on the fact that I could start at one side of the back yard and make it to the other side of the yard, without touching the ground all while setting foot on each of the 23 trees. Yes, I could do it, i did it all the time. And I loved it. The thing is, I was a top heavy 95 pounds back then and I treated climbing trees like a plumber treats a toilet, with ease. I am now double that weight and bottom heavy, and add to that picture a chainsaw and you have a picture of me on the Fourth of July. I chopped down what seemed like half of my old climbing grounds. Me and my dad made a nice clean looking canopy over the whole backyard.
Perfect job, except for that one last limb that needed to be chopped, but it was way up in the trees. "Hey, your a athletic young man!" I thought to myself, "why don't you shimmy up that tree like the good ole days and cut that limb down?" Ignoring the craziness of talking to myself, I thought it was the best idea I had had since changing from boxers to briefs. I proceded to make my way up that tree like a pro. I did have too stop twice to catch my breath, which seems like it would have reminded me, that this was not what happened in the good ole days but, I got to the branch I needed to chop down pulled my self up on it and nestled myself in what seemed like twigs right above that limb. Taking a minute to let my sweating subdue to a mild trickle I lowered the rope I brought with me down to my dad, in which he tied the chainsaw to this rope and in turn pulled it back up to my paws. Needless to say I had to take another few minutes.
Let me explain the size of this limb I was about to chop down, it was medium size but large enouph to kill a boy scout troupe if it fell on them. I was cutting out a sizeable area of this tree, and mind you, I was about 25 feet in the air. My next memory was a combination of two phases that filled my head at once. As I asked myself, "Is this the best angle you should be cutting this limb from?" my mom's voice echoed in my head, "GET DOWN FROM UP THERE THIS INSTANT!" This caused me to forget to answer the question I asked myself, and it also put me right back into the good 'ole days! I used to love to scare my mom by swinging from trees, jumping from one tree to the other and even by falling from the trees. Luckily my head broke the fall each time. So, there I am waving my mom off, sweating profusely, breathing heavy, starting the chainsaw and about to cut off this main limb. One more time I heard myself ask something, "Ar ou ure his is the r ght an le?" The noise of the saw allowed me to shrug off the question, thinking it must have been myself asking myself for some water or a damp cold cloth. Well that is when it happened the crowning moment of the day, that large branch was about to fall from this mighty tree. With the cahinsaw about 3/4th of the way through the limb, I heard my self screaming at my self... "ST P CUT ING, D MMY!!!!" I heard the tone of my voice and recognized it as urgent, but the saw was too loud to know for sure. This is when I made the split decision to just go ahead and finish the cutting motion before finding out what was being yelled at me. I then turned off the saw and sat there covered in sweat and woodchips, and asked myself what it was he was trying to tell me. All he responded with was, "You dummy." Being easily drawn into name calling, I proceeded to call myself a dummy, but added face after dummy. Next, it was my mom that wanted to chime in with her usual, "How are you going to get down?" If I had dime for every time I heard that growing up, I would have been able to afford those Converse Allstars I always wanted. Suffering from dehydration and being a bit of a smart aleck, I sassyly replied, "I will jump down to this limb and then it is a piece of cake from there. I have done it a million times! GOSH!" Next, in what seemed like practiced precision, my mom and myself both exclaimed, "Better think again, Dummy face!"
Crap. That limb I was planning to jump down to--that was so easy to get down from--was now laying 23 feet down, on the grass, no doubt having mixed emotions between pain and sheer joy in the fat that I was screwed. Mustering up all the confidence I could, I replied, "I'm fine." Time to size up the situation: I have to make it 15 feet down a 3 foot in diameter oak tree to get to the next useful limb, my mom, myself and a tree limb are all lauphing at me, an I feel like I have just run in the Iron Man Classic. After taking a rest, and lowering the saw to my dad, who was surprising quiet through the whole ordeal,(I later found out he was arguing with himself about letting me go up that high in the first place)I came to the decision that taking my shirt off earlier in the day, to show my pale skin some sunshine was probably one of my worst ideas in months. For the only way in which to get from point A to point B,(A being where I was, B where I needed to get 15 feet away) was to shimmy down the tree, bear style, till my feet got to that next limb. Lets all think about this senerio. Bare stomach and arms, tired stomach and arms, 15 feet, oak tree. All of this added together makes for a memorable Fourth of July for sure. In fact it has been a memorable 5-7th of July as well, as I am reminded of my stupidity every time I move. Well, I hope all of you listened to yourselves better then I did this past holiday. I know that I will be paying way more attention to dummy face in the future. Until next time.
Perfect job, except for that one last limb that needed to be chopped, but it was way up in the trees. "Hey, your a athletic young man!" I thought to myself, "why don't you shimmy up that tree like the good ole days and cut that limb down?" Ignoring the craziness of talking to myself, I thought it was the best idea I had had since changing from boxers to briefs. I proceded to make my way up that tree like a pro. I did have too stop twice to catch my breath, which seems like it would have reminded me, that this was not what happened in the good ole days but, I got to the branch I needed to chop down pulled my self up on it and nestled myself in what seemed like twigs right above that limb. Taking a minute to let my sweating subdue to a mild trickle I lowered the rope I brought with me down to my dad, in which he tied the chainsaw to this rope and in turn pulled it back up to my paws. Needless to say I had to take another few minutes.
Let me explain the size of this limb I was about to chop down, it was medium size but large enouph to kill a boy scout troupe if it fell on them. I was cutting out a sizeable area of this tree, and mind you, I was about 25 feet in the air. My next memory was a combination of two phases that filled my head at once. As I asked myself, "Is this the best angle you should be cutting this limb from?" my mom's voice echoed in my head, "GET DOWN FROM UP THERE THIS INSTANT!" This caused me to forget to answer the question I asked myself, and it also put me right back into the good 'ole days! I used to love to scare my mom by swinging from trees, jumping from one tree to the other and even by falling from the trees. Luckily my head broke the fall each time. So, there I am waving my mom off, sweating profusely, breathing heavy, starting the chainsaw and about to cut off this main limb. One more time I heard myself ask something, "Ar ou ure his is the r ght an le?" The noise of the saw allowed me to shrug off the question, thinking it must have been myself asking myself for some water or a damp cold cloth. Well that is when it happened the crowning moment of the day, that large branch was about to fall from this mighty tree. With the cahinsaw about 3/4th of the way through the limb, I heard my self screaming at my self... "ST P CUT ING, D MMY!!!!" I heard the tone of my voice and recognized it as urgent, but the saw was too loud to know for sure. This is when I made the split decision to just go ahead and finish the cutting motion before finding out what was being yelled at me. I then turned off the saw and sat there covered in sweat and woodchips, and asked myself what it was he was trying to tell me. All he responded with was, "You dummy." Being easily drawn into name calling, I proceeded to call myself a dummy, but added face after dummy. Next, it was my mom that wanted to chime in with her usual, "How are you going to get down?" If I had dime for every time I heard that growing up, I would have been able to afford those Converse Allstars I always wanted. Suffering from dehydration and being a bit of a smart aleck, I sassyly replied, "I will jump down to this limb and then it is a piece of cake from there. I have done it a million times! GOSH!" Next, in what seemed like practiced precision, my mom and myself both exclaimed, "Better think again, Dummy face!"
Crap. That limb I was planning to jump down to--that was so easy to get down from--was now laying 23 feet down, on the grass, no doubt having mixed emotions between pain and sheer joy in the fat that I was screwed. Mustering up all the confidence I could, I replied, "I'm fine." Time to size up the situation: I have to make it 15 feet down a 3 foot in diameter oak tree to get to the next useful limb, my mom, myself and a tree limb are all lauphing at me, an I feel like I have just run in the Iron Man Classic. After taking a rest, and lowering the saw to my dad, who was surprising quiet through the whole ordeal,(I later found out he was arguing with himself about letting me go up that high in the first place)I came to the decision that taking my shirt off earlier in the day, to show my pale skin some sunshine was probably one of my worst ideas in months. For the only way in which to get from point A to point B,(A being where I was, B where I needed to get 15 feet away) was to shimmy down the tree, bear style, till my feet got to that next limb. Lets all think about this senerio. Bare stomach and arms, tired stomach and arms, 15 feet, oak tree. All of this added together makes for a memorable Fourth of July for sure. In fact it has been a memorable 5-7th of July as well, as I am reminded of my stupidity every time I move. Well, I hope all of you listened to yourselves better then I did this past holiday. I know that I will be paying way more attention to dummy face in the future. Until next time.
Friday, June 30, 2006
Bragging for Dummies
I woke up this morning and I had a revelation. It was too early to be waking up, so I went back to sleep. But the next time I woke up(eight minutes later) I had another revelation. I needed to write a blog like I used to. I should start off by telling you what I have been up to, then delve into the boring part, that is unless you always skip the part about my going ons because you think that part is boring. Anyways, point is until dues are seriously talked about at the next house meeting, this thing gets written pretty much just the way my fingers and brain decide it should be done. So, on that note, I watched a movie tonight, and if you must know the small details I did watch it alone. I viewed a movie about futbol hooligans, called Green Street Holligans. It was a British movie starring Elijah Wood and a bunch of other blokes. There was much fighting, a bunch of drinking, many foul words scattered in and back stabbing. Basically, if it was made in America it would have been based on fraternities. Seriously though, it was a good movie that taught some important lessons in life, but mainly just showed that the human face can take more punches then you would have thought other wise. Another prevalent occurrence in the movie was the consistent use up bragging. That got me thinking... what doesn't, I am sure your thinking. I know I don't know all that much about bragging(not a brag) but I do think I know more then all of you(a serious brag) so I thought I would whip up a few guidelines concerning the art of bragging. In no particular order....
Bragging mucst be BALLSY - Sorry to start with ballsy but it starts with B. OK, say you have reached a point in a conversation or an argument where you need to reach inside yourself for a brag, you can not come to the table with a week hearted tall tale. You need to always bring a strong and ardent brag or else you run the risk of not being taken serious. To be good a brag needs a bit of an edge to it.
Examples:
Bad Ballsy Brag - "My mom says I punch harder then both my sisters combined, so why don't you sit down before I show you what she is talking about."
Good Ballsy Brag - "These fists are banned in 49 states because of their deadly might, you want to be the reason it is all 50 states?"
Bragging must be RUDE - There is no such thing as a polite brag. Bragging is to be used in a discourteous manner. Bragging is to make you seem, look and feel better then the other person and there is no way to achieve this if your brags are anything but disrespectful.
Examples:
Bad Rude Brag - "My mom got me this awesome watch, it is way better then yours."
Good Rude Brag - "I have the best watch of any one on the street, because my dad is rich and powerful, and your dad is unemployed."
Bragging must be ABSOLUTE - Bragging needs not to have boundaries, but it does need a precise point. Bragging needs to be straight forward and spoken with heart. You can not be wishy-washy with a brag. This shows weakness, and a stronger bragger will pounce on this. If you are in the middle of a serious bragging session with a friend about fishing, do not brag about anything else while bragging about fishing. You must have an absolute and stick with it. (Hey, it started with A)
Examples:
Bad Absolute Brag - "My mom says I run faster then the wind, and I have a penny that is older then dirt."
Good Absolute Brag - "I have drivin a car over 200 miles an hour right by a cop and he didn't even pull me over, seven times, each time in a different car, each car over 80 grand!"
Bragging must be GRANDIOSE - When bragging, nothing is worse then a brag that fizzles because it is to blase. A good brag is a showy brag. A bad brag is a stale brag. If you are going to use bragging to show people you are better then them, why just be a little bit better? Use the opportunity that bragging supplies to really make the other person feel crappy by making your brag the best brag it can be!
Examples:
Bad Grandiose Brag - "I hung the moon, according to my mom."
Good Grandiose Brag - "I was once being hunted by a battalion of blood thirsty Japanese Soldiers, hell bent on capturing me and tormenting me within inches of my life. I was able to elude this group of about 190 soldiers for 5 weeks with only a Swiss army knife as a weapon. I was able to slowly take them out one by one, until it was just me left in the jungle. This happened on 7 different occations. I single handedly won that war. I am the best soldier on the planet. Hoo rahhh!"
So I guess as a recap I will point out that I am the first person ever to come up with such guidelines and not only the first such list, but the best such list because they make a acronym. So just remember when you are arguing with a friend, co-worker, boss, carnival workers or anyone, if you feel you need to one-up their story with one of your own, use my time tested guidelines to successful bragging.
Until next time.
Bragging mucst be BALLSY - Sorry to start with ballsy but it starts with B. OK, say you have reached a point in a conversation or an argument where you need to reach inside yourself for a brag, you can not come to the table with a week hearted tall tale. You need to always bring a strong and ardent brag or else you run the risk of not being taken serious. To be good a brag needs a bit of an edge to it.
Examples:
Bad Ballsy Brag - "My mom says I punch harder then both my sisters combined, so why don't you sit down before I show you what she is talking about."
Good Ballsy Brag - "These fists are banned in 49 states because of their deadly might, you want to be the reason it is all 50 states?"
Bragging must be RUDE - There is no such thing as a polite brag. Bragging is to be used in a discourteous manner. Bragging is to make you seem, look and feel better then the other person and there is no way to achieve this if your brags are anything but disrespectful.
Examples:
Bad Rude Brag - "My mom got me this awesome watch, it is way better then yours."
Good Rude Brag - "I have the best watch of any one on the street, because my dad is rich and powerful, and your dad is unemployed."
Bragging must be ABSOLUTE - Bragging needs not to have boundaries, but it does need a precise point. Bragging needs to be straight forward and spoken with heart. You can not be wishy-washy with a brag. This shows weakness, and a stronger bragger will pounce on this. If you are in the middle of a serious bragging session with a friend about fishing, do not brag about anything else while bragging about fishing. You must have an absolute and stick with it. (Hey, it started with A)
Examples:
Bad Absolute Brag - "My mom says I run faster then the wind, and I have a penny that is older then dirt."
Good Absolute Brag - "I have drivin a car over 200 miles an hour right by a cop and he didn't even pull me over, seven times, each time in a different car, each car over 80 grand!"
Bragging must be GRANDIOSE - When bragging, nothing is worse then a brag that fizzles because it is to blase. A good brag is a showy brag. A bad brag is a stale brag. If you are going to use bragging to show people you are better then them, why just be a little bit better? Use the opportunity that bragging supplies to really make the other person feel crappy by making your brag the best brag it can be!
Examples:
Bad Grandiose Brag - "I hung the moon, according to my mom."
Good Grandiose Brag - "I was once being hunted by a battalion of blood thirsty Japanese Soldiers, hell bent on capturing me and tormenting me within inches of my life. I was able to elude this group of about 190 soldiers for 5 weeks with only a Swiss army knife as a weapon. I was able to slowly take them out one by one, until it was just me left in the jungle. This happened on 7 different occations. I single handedly won that war. I am the best soldier on the planet. Hoo rahhh!"
So I guess as a recap I will point out that I am the first person ever to come up with such guidelines and not only the first such list, but the best such list because they make a acronym. So just remember when you are arguing with a friend, co-worker, boss, carnival workers or anyone, if you feel you need to one-up their story with one of your own, use my time tested guidelines to successful bragging.
GREAT BRAGGING IS:
B-bold
R-rude
A-absolute
G-grandiose
Until next time.
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Heat Wave Goodbye
I have a big confession to make. No, it is not that I know every ABBA song word for word, I thought you already knew that. It is that... I for the first time since the Spurs were ripped from the NBA playoffs so heartbreakingly, watched another game of the playoffs. I actually ended my ban of the B-Ball tournament just for the hope of seeing what I saw tonight. The Dallas Mavericks and Mark Cuban lose. Do not get me wrong, I did not watch to see the Miami Heat win, I just wanted the team that caused my Los Cucos Mexican food to not settle for two weeks in my stomach(Mavs), to fall from the playoff in dramatic fashion, just like my Spurs did. I am not usually a vengeance filled person, but for some reason I took it personally that my Spurs lost that night at Los Cucos. I guess I did not cheer loud enouph or bang the bar hard enouph, something I did must have caused that loss. So I held the burden of blame that the "other Texas team" was going to win the championship this season. Well me and Manu Ginobili were going to share the blame for is insane foul. Well to be even more honest, Manu and I would actually take responsibility for one forth of the loss, where the refs would receive the other three fourths. But non-the-less it has been a heavy burden to bear. My legs have never been stronger, but I am so happy that it has been lifted off with the Heat winning the Championship. Man I can see the headlines now... A HEAT WAVE HITS DALLAS! That shouldn't make me happy, but it does and I am sorry if it doesn't make you happy. In fact I will take this opportunity to switch gears and talk about something that just came to my mind...
A HEAT WAVE HITS SAN ANTONIO! Is is hot or what? You don't have to really answer that. I didn't have time to call the Weather Channel to confirm this, but I am pretty sure it is the hottest June ever since 2005. I did how every have time to check my thesaurus and I agree with it that not only is it hot here in SA this week but it is also safe to say that it is baking, blazing, calescent, flaming, ovenlike, piping, roasting, scalding, sweltry, thermogenic and torrid. The heat has even reminded me that I need help with a problem I have been having lately. No, it is not problem of trying to learn what trendy is, that is a severe problem. What I am getting at is I have had bad sweaty back the last three days, when I have gone for my lunch at about 2:00 in the afternoon. It is becoming a problem. I hope your not eating as you read this. Anyways, I have thought long and hard about this for about 5 minutes and there are a few things I think I can do to help this problem out. If you think of more please let me know.
1.) Stop going to lunch. This seems to be the easiest solution on the surface, but when you take in to account that I am a lover of food, and I need it like wild out of control kids need a "Chill Pill," you quickly see that I need to leave to get lunch somewhere, preferably a buffet.
2.)Leave Car Running With AC on When I Get to Work in Morning. Again another idea that seems good on the surface. Unfortunately I do not get paid enouph to fill up my car every day at lunch because the gas burned up. And this would in turn cut into my eating time, that just will not work. As for getting rid of sweaty back these first two idea would be ideal, and I would still get to EAT!
3.) Lose Weight So Sweaty Back is Harder to Obtain. Wow. I think this is the only way to really eliminate sweaty lunch back, with out moving to Iceland. That would involve working out not eating out. Scary concept but it just might work. Because this idea gives me nightmares I will skip to idea 4.
4.) Wear Dark Shirts to Hide Evidence. Yes! Problem solved! I have a great Miami Heat dark navy shirt to wear! Hope that goes with my black cutoff jean shorts. Until next time.
A HEAT WAVE HITS SAN ANTONIO! Is is hot or what? You don't have to really answer that. I didn't have time to call the Weather Channel to confirm this, but I am pretty sure it is the hottest June ever since 2005. I did how every have time to check my thesaurus and I agree with it that not only is it hot here in SA this week but it is also safe to say that it is baking, blazing, calescent, flaming, ovenlike, piping, roasting, scalding, sweltry, thermogenic and torrid. The heat has even reminded me that I need help with a problem I have been having lately. No, it is not problem of trying to learn what trendy is, that is a severe problem. What I am getting at is I have had bad sweaty back the last three days, when I have gone for my lunch at about 2:00 in the afternoon. It is becoming a problem. I hope your not eating as you read this. Anyways, I have thought long and hard about this for about 5 minutes and there are a few things I think I can do to help this problem out. If you think of more please let me know.
1.) Stop going to lunch. This seems to be the easiest solution on the surface, but when you take in to account that I am a lover of food, and I need it like wild out of control kids need a "Chill Pill," you quickly see that I need to leave to get lunch somewhere, preferably a buffet.
2.)Leave Car Running With AC on When I Get to Work in Morning. Again another idea that seems good on the surface. Unfortunately I do not get paid enouph to fill up my car every day at lunch because the gas burned up. And this would in turn cut into my eating time, that just will not work. As for getting rid of sweaty back these first two idea would be ideal, and I would still get to EAT!
3.) Lose Weight So Sweaty Back is Harder to Obtain. Wow. I think this is the only way to really eliminate sweaty lunch back, with out moving to Iceland. That would involve working out not eating out. Scary concept but it just might work. Because this idea gives me nightmares I will skip to idea 4.
4.) Wear Dark Shirts to Hide Evidence. Yes! Problem solved! I have a great Miami Heat dark navy shirt to wear! Hope that goes with my black cutoff jean shorts. Until next time.
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
A little more about me...
I figured that since this is my blog, I can do with it what I like. And I would like to take about five minutes of your time to talk solely about myself. You may be thinking that , that is all I do on here anyways, and you would be wrong. Most other times when I talk about myself, I have been lying. So this one will be straight forward, honest and should have very few parts exaggerated. I was thinking about how exactly to type about myself in a way that would let all the people that don't know me to well outside of the internet to really get a grasp of what I am like if I am seen in person. I figured the best way would be to pretend that I am standing in front of a huge audience of my readers, ok... well a semi circle of fold out chairs in a living room would be more like it. I thought it would be best to type what I would share if this were a live audience. So here goes.
me: Hi, welcome to my parents living room, they graciously stepped out for their evening walk so that I could have the room to myself and have you all over. My mom did make her famous and my favorite, M&M cookies, so please help your self at any time.
person in audience: Do you still live here?
me: Yes, it is just temporary though. Let's move on...
person in audience: Aren't you almost 30, why do you live here?
me: ummmm, twenty eight is a long way from thirty, and I did stay in a dorm in college. But I will have a question and answer time later if you would like to hold all....
person in audience: Why don't you move out, dork!
me: ummmmm... Because right now I am trying to save up as much money as I can so that I can travel the world and meet hot chicks from new and exciting countries! I Was going to start my speech about myself actually with sharing with you that I like to tre....
person in audience: What happens when you tell the "hot chick from new countries" that your almost 30 and live at home?! HAHAHAHAHAHA
me: ummm. First off, like I said twenty eight is no where near 30, and second of all, I would hope that any respectable girl would find my honesty in sharing such a tidbit would find me desirable.
female in audience: No she wouldn't, she would find it creepy and slap you. Why do you still live at home, dork? hahaha
me: Trust me pretty lady....
female in audience: Don't call me that, or I'll break your arms.
me: Ummm... aaaa... I was just going to say that it is not a permanent housing plan. I have goals and aspirations. I will have a great job and make six figures one day, and I will be a great husband...
person in audience: No you won't.
me: Well, you are certainly in titled to your opinion, but that is just what it is your opinion, not the groups...
the whole audience: Yes it is.
me: Ummmmm.... shall I continue..... I'll take the silence as a yes. Travel is not my only love. I also love movies. I own about 350 DVD now and I.....
person in audience: You really are a dork.
me: Umm please hold all comments until the end, my parents only make two laps around the block and I am hoping we have time at the end to talk about the possibility of dues being paid to read my blog. I was thinking that....
person in audience: You have to be kidding. What are you going to charge us for these terrible cookies too? Dork.
me: Well, that is voluntary actually, the little jar next to the cookies is supposed to be for tips, but don't feel obligated. As for the dues, we can take a vote at the end of this...
whole audience: We all vote no.
me: ummmm... I respect your choice, shall I continue?
whole audience: NO!
me: ummm... So, I guess that brings this to a close, I am glad you all came out tonight, and would like to answer any questions you might have besides "why do you....
whole audience: WHY DO YOU LIVE AT HOME WHEN YOU ARE ALMOST THIRTY!!!!! Dork!
me: please leave.
whole group: Gladly.
me: **cry**
UNTIL NEXT TIME
p.s. Just to clear some things up. I do not live at home. Twenty eight IS a long way from thirty. I do like to travel. I am not a dork. And I wouldn't really cry.
me: Hi, welcome to my parents living room, they graciously stepped out for their evening walk so that I could have the room to myself and have you all over. My mom did make her famous and my favorite, M&M cookies, so please help your self at any time.
person in audience: Do you still live here?
me: Yes, it is just temporary though. Let's move on...
person in audience: Aren't you almost 30, why do you live here?
me: ummmm, twenty eight is a long way from thirty, and I did stay in a dorm in college. But I will have a question and answer time later if you would like to hold all....
person in audience: Why don't you move out, dork!
me: ummmmm... Because right now I am trying to save up as much money as I can so that I can travel the world and meet hot chicks from new and exciting countries! I Was going to start my speech about myself actually with sharing with you that I like to tre....
person in audience: What happens when you tell the "hot chick from new countries" that your almost 30 and live at home?! HAHAHAHAHAHA
me: ummm. First off, like I said twenty eight is no where near 30, and second of all, I would hope that any respectable girl would find my honesty in sharing such a tidbit would find me desirable.
female in audience: No she wouldn't, she would find it creepy and slap you. Why do you still live at home, dork? hahaha
me: Trust me pretty lady....
female in audience: Don't call me that, or I'll break your arms.
me: Ummm... aaaa... I was just going to say that it is not a permanent housing plan. I have goals and aspirations. I will have a great job and make six figures one day, and I will be a great husband...
person in audience: No you won't.
me: Well, you are certainly in titled to your opinion, but that is just what it is your opinion, not the groups...
the whole audience: Yes it is.
me: Ummmmm.... shall I continue..... I'll take the silence as a yes. Travel is not my only love. I also love movies. I own about 350 DVD now and I.....
person in audience: You really are a dork.
me: Umm please hold all comments until the end, my parents only make two laps around the block and I am hoping we have time at the end to talk about the possibility of dues being paid to read my blog. I was thinking that....
person in audience: You have to be kidding. What are you going to charge us for these terrible cookies too? Dork.
me: Well, that is voluntary actually, the little jar next to the cookies is supposed to be for tips, but don't feel obligated. As for the dues, we can take a vote at the end of this...
whole audience: We all vote no.
me: ummmm... I respect your choice, shall I continue?
whole audience: NO!
me: ummm... So, I guess that brings this to a close, I am glad you all came out tonight, and would like to answer any questions you might have besides "why do you....
whole audience: WHY DO YOU LIVE AT HOME WHEN YOU ARE ALMOST THIRTY!!!!! Dork!
me: please leave.
whole group: Gladly.
me: **cry**
UNTIL NEXT TIME
p.s. Just to clear some things up. I do not live at home. Twenty eight IS a long way from thirty. I do like to travel. I am not a dork. And I wouldn't really cry.
Monday, June 12, 2006
The World Cup o' Tea
Let me start with a quick explanation of why I have not written a blog in over two months. I was conducting a test. I wanted to see if anyone would miss my blog. And since only one person did I just about gave up on it. But that one person, kept hounding me to write another one, so I gave in and am back at it. Oh yeah that one person, was me. "So, lets get started, Kev." "OK! Kev"
June is proving to be a busy month for sports fans. I will attempt to share with you(and when I say you I am implying me)my incite on each of the sporting events that seem to be filling this month. I guess I will go in order of importance starting with the least meaningful and shall end with the best, mainly because that is how I would like to read it.
WNBA Regular Season - I have to admit that I am not a fan of women's basketball. It has too slow of a pace and not enouph dunking. Strangely enouph, if you took down every persons name that attended a WNBA game and compared it to the Legalizing Gay Marriage petition, they would be about 90% identical.
NHL Championships - This seems like a sport I would really like. I like to skate. I like physical play. There is no jumping involved. And it would be perfect for my short temper. The thing is living in Texas my whole life I was never introduced to the sport. So I just small glimpses of it here and there. Though I like to watch the fighting and I like to see people get splattered into the wall, I still can not put it above any of the sports left.
College Softball Championships - I have to admit that I do like to watch girls softball. Just in little doses. Though there is a good amount of "butch" softball gals, I find that over half are an athletic hot. They don't get higher on my list of June sports though because they chant the entire game in unison, and they all throw like girls.
Major League Baseball - There is a reason most people you talk to about baseball say it is boring. That is because it is. I can really only watch baseball in the Fall and only then because we only have football on the weekends. Lately all you hear about baseball is the fact that almost 75% of the players are cheating dummies and their leader is Barry Bonds, so that has turned me off of baseball for the month at least.
College Baseball Championships - To me college sports are always more exciting then their professional counterpart, except in table tennis, the pros rule that one. So for baseball it is nice to see true competition going on in June, from athletes that play for the right reasons. Well, they play there asses off so that they can make it to the big leagues to play for money instead of for love of the game. If bikini clad women would walk the bases holding up what inning was about to start I think attendance would go up.
Wimbleton - Tennis is great to watch, when I remember too. The women's field is filled with scrumptious eye candy, and the men's field is so deep right now that it makes for good matches all around. But now to talk a bit about the down side of tennis. It does get a bit repetitive, and there are next to zero fights.
NBA championships - I do love the NBA. I am just really mad at it right now, so it is with great effort to put it this high. I can not believe David Stern scripted the Spurs to lose to Dallas. Though I am banning the Finals this year because I am bitter and a sore loser, I have really loved the Finals 3 out of the last 8 years. The Spurs are still Champions in my eyes. I have been wearing the pair of disposible contacts for over 2 months though.
THE WORLD CUP - The World Cup for those of you that do not know is the Championships for Soccer. Not the US Championships, the WORLD Championships. Teams play for 4 years to qualify for the chance to be one of 32 teams to be invited to play. This is really the truest world contest there is. I heard that audience wise, it is four times larger then the Olympics, so that means it is a really big deal. It has taken hold of me as well this month. It is the only sporting event I have watched. I have watched all or part of every game that has been on so far, which shows I am a true fan, and that I am still single. Countries pause their lives for one full month while they follow their countries progress in the Cup. The USA does not. I wish we would be cause not only is it fun to watch(I know this is a controversial statement, but I also know that I exaggerated a bit too), but I think it would be more fun to be a fan of the game. They have more team spirit then any fans I have ever seen, besides some Raiders fans. They get to riot and it is encouraged, I think. I mean look at these fans.
Where else can you see this kind of pure enjoyment, besides Chuck E. Cheese of course. So I challenge all of you(me) to watch The World Cup this month. You might find out that is better then you though, better then all these other sports going on right now. Until next time.
June is proving to be a busy month for sports fans. I will attempt to share with you(and when I say you I am implying me)my incite on each of the sporting events that seem to be filling this month. I guess I will go in order of importance starting with the least meaningful and shall end with the best, mainly because that is how I would like to read it.
WNBA Regular Season - I have to admit that I am not a fan of women's basketball. It has too slow of a pace and not enouph dunking. Strangely enouph, if you took down every persons name that attended a WNBA game and compared it to the Legalizing Gay Marriage petition, they would be about 90% identical.
NHL Championships - This seems like a sport I would really like. I like to skate. I like physical play. There is no jumping involved. And it would be perfect for my short temper. The thing is living in Texas my whole life I was never introduced to the sport. So I just small glimpses of it here and there. Though I like to watch the fighting and I like to see people get splattered into the wall, I still can not put it above any of the sports left.
College Softball Championships - I have to admit that I do like to watch girls softball. Just in little doses. Though there is a good amount of "butch" softball gals, I find that over half are an athletic hot. They don't get higher on my list of June sports though because they chant the entire game in unison, and they all throw like girls.
Major League Baseball - There is a reason most people you talk to about baseball say it is boring. That is because it is. I can really only watch baseball in the Fall and only then because we only have football on the weekends. Lately all you hear about baseball is the fact that almost 75% of the players are cheating dummies and their leader is Barry Bonds, so that has turned me off of baseball for the month at least.
College Baseball Championships - To me college sports are always more exciting then their professional counterpart, except in table tennis, the pros rule that one. So for baseball it is nice to see true competition going on in June, from athletes that play for the right reasons. Well, they play there asses off so that they can make it to the big leagues to play for money instead of for love of the game. If bikini clad women would walk the bases holding up what inning was about to start I think attendance would go up.
Wimbleton - Tennis is great to watch, when I remember too. The women's field is filled with scrumptious eye candy, and the men's field is so deep right now that it makes for good matches all around. But now to talk a bit about the down side of tennis. It does get a bit repetitive, and there are next to zero fights.
NBA championships - I do love the NBA. I am just really mad at it right now, so it is with great effort to put it this high. I can not believe David Stern scripted the Spurs to lose to Dallas. Though I am banning the Finals this year because I am bitter and a sore loser, I have really loved the Finals 3 out of the last 8 years. The Spurs are still Champions in my eyes. I have been wearing the pair of disposible contacts for over 2 months though.
THE WORLD CUP - The World Cup for those of you that do not know is the Championships for Soccer. Not the US Championships, the WORLD Championships. Teams play for 4 years to qualify for the chance to be one of 32 teams to be invited to play. This is really the truest world contest there is. I heard that audience wise, it is four times larger then the Olympics, so that means it is a really big deal. It has taken hold of me as well this month. It is the only sporting event I have watched. I have watched all or part of every game that has been on so far, which shows I am a true fan, and that I am still single. Countries pause their lives for one full month while they follow their countries progress in the Cup. The USA does not. I wish we would be cause not only is it fun to watch(I know this is a controversial statement, but I also know that I exaggerated a bit too), but I think it would be more fun to be a fan of the game. They have more team spirit then any fans I have ever seen, besides some Raiders fans. They get to riot and it is encouraged, I think. I mean look at these fans.
Where else can you see this kind of pure enjoyment, besides Chuck E. Cheese of course. So I challenge all of you(me) to watch The World Cup this month. You might find out that is better then you though, better then all these other sports going on right now. Until next time.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Weddings, Taxes and Razors.
Let me start off by saying that I know it has been some time since I have last blogged, and it is well known the reason behind not blogging. That would be the My-Space Evil Empire and I apologize. But what is done is done. And we all need to move on or some how find a way to co-exist. Anyways... Here are my thoughts on a few things that have happened to me, almost passed me by, and cut me.
It is no big secret that I am smart, however it is a secret that I am smart. Let me explain:) I have had a realization over the past weekend. I am literally growing up before my very own eyes. It is quite amazing. I fisrt noticed it while I attended a good friends wedding last weekend. The wedding showed me that I am nowhere near that, that being having even a date. It did however, spark my first serious thought about weddings and marriage since last time I saw Wedding Crashers. That is when I knew I was growing up before my very own eyes. No longer did I think that this was something to put off and put off, it was something I needed to do, and do quick or there could be serious consequences. I of course am talking about filing my taxes here, for I learned this week that it is so much smarter to file your taxes in February, rather then April 15th with 6 million other people, especially when you are getting a fat return. And, yes I learned this the hard way, but I still did learn something and that is all part of growing up in front of your own eyes. I know now that it is sometimes better to do things the right way so that it does not come back and burn you later. I am talking about shaving now, of course, for I have finally learned the correct way to shave with out your neck catching on fire and looking like you tried to hang your self with an extension cord. The secret is to use the new Gillette Fusion. It has five razors, all designed and created for comfort. And a sixth one.... but I am not sure what that one is for yet it still is the best thing that has happened to my face since Snow White kissed my cheek at Disney World(last may). It makes growing up in front of your own eyes easier to look at too. It also shows that it is just so important to pick out something that will bring a smile to your face and work well with you, and help you better your self. And of course I am talking about marriage and weddings again:) So it is these three life changing things that are not only easily interchangeable but life shaping as well. The three of them have taught me more in one weekend then I have learned in 28 years of watching Monty Python's Meaning of Life. I know I am the better for making these connections, hopefully you are two. Now, you go and find your own connections in life's everyday journey. Just watch out for Until next time.
It is no big secret that I am smart, however it is a secret that I am smart. Let me explain:) I have had a realization over the past weekend. I am literally growing up before my very own eyes. It is quite amazing. I fisrt noticed it while I attended a good friends wedding last weekend. The wedding showed me that I am nowhere near that, that being having even a date. It did however, spark my first serious thought about weddings and marriage since last time I saw Wedding Crashers. That is when I knew I was growing up before my very own eyes. No longer did I think that this was something to put off and put off, it was something I needed to do, and do quick or there could be serious consequences. I of course am talking about filing my taxes here, for I learned this week that it is so much smarter to file your taxes in February, rather then April 15th with 6 million other people, especially when you are getting a fat return. And, yes I learned this the hard way, but I still did learn something and that is all part of growing up in front of your own eyes. I know now that it is sometimes better to do things the right way so that it does not come back and burn you later. I am talking about shaving now, of course, for I have finally learned the correct way to shave with out your neck catching on fire and looking like you tried to hang your self with an extension cord. The secret is to use the new Gillette Fusion. It has five razors, all designed and created for comfort. And a sixth one.... but I am not sure what that one is for yet it still is the best thing that has happened to my face since Snow White kissed my cheek at Disney World(last may). It makes growing up in front of your own eyes easier to look at too. It also shows that it is just so important to pick out something that will bring a smile to your face and work well with you, and help you better your self. And of course I am talking about marriage and weddings again:) So it is these three life changing things that are not only easily interchangeable but life shaping as well. The three of them have taught me more in one weekend then I have learned in 28 years of watching Monty Python's Meaning of Life. I know I am the better for making these connections, hopefully you are two. Now, you go and find your own connections in life's everyday journey. Just watch out for Until next time.
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Blogs-on-Demand
Let me start by saying that this is weird. I haven't done this in so long it might take me 15 sentences or so to write something that is worth reading. So, for that matter, I will talk about what I have been up to for the first 12 sentences. I have been getting older. I don't mean just 28 days older, which is how long it has been since I have written a blog. I also don't want you to confuse my growing older with me growing wiser, for unfortunately that is not has not been the case either. I have however treated my body so badly that it(my body) has teamed up with, most likely with my mom, to nearly disable me and make me feel old and decrepit.(Ok, I apologize to the seriously old and decrepit, but I also know that if you are seriously old and decrepit you are not on computers.) Ok, so I have attempted over the past couple of months to do things I have done my whole life, which are listed here in no particular order... stupid. I am athletic(kind of)always up for a game of basketball or video games, I did however have a notion that I was also a great football player, even though I never played it. So what do I do? ok ok ok I am way past 15 sentences, and you don't care, so on to more stuff...
I want to share with you my new hobby. Tivo and On-Demand television. I shell out 8 extra single each month to have this technology pumped right into my room. YES, a clicker's reach away from my bed, and computer chair. And it is sad(what isn't when you really know me) but that is where I spend every waking hour. I have watched entire seasons of shows that I do not even care about just because I can. I have watched every series on HBO and Showtime, all while keeping up with Lost, 24, Amazing Race, Deadliest Catch, Pimp My Truck, Greys Anatomy, Boston Legal, OC and Sponge Bob Square Pants. It is really amazing(read: sad). I have sat in this room so long staring at the TV I am starting to look very pale and my eyes are falling to the back of my head. It is really amazing(read: exaggerated). This weekend I was informed about a channel that I did not know existed. Exercise-on-Demand. Channel 980 or something. The thing is you can bring up Pilates, Yoga, Stretching, Abs, Running, Meditation classes at any time. Now, I really don't ever have to leave my room but to eat and go to work. It is really amazing(read:amazing). Well, it was amazing till I just attempted a level two Abs class taught by a Nazi with steel abs. I am now forced to write this blog laying on the floor, because my abdominals hurt so bad I can not get myself off the floor. It is really quite amazing(read: "I need help!") So, I think tomorrow I am going to try something that sounds easier like this one I saw on there, "Breathing made Easy". But the whole, Tivo and On-Demand stuff is pretty cool, I just wish I could better limit myself to how much TV I watch a night, because it has gotten out of control lately. But hey that is my life's weakness, not knowing how to or when to stop doing things that are bad for me. Like right now it is 230 and I should be asleep, but I just can't seem to stop and go to bed. It is really amazing(read: no it is't). So on that note I will show a bit of control and go to bed before it gets much later. First, I got to watch a show though! Until next time.
I want to share with you my new hobby. Tivo and On-Demand television. I shell out 8 extra single each month to have this technology pumped right into my room. YES, a clicker's reach away from my bed, and computer chair. And it is sad(what isn't when you really know me) but that is where I spend every waking hour. I have watched entire seasons of shows that I do not even care about just because I can. I have watched every series on HBO and Showtime, all while keeping up with Lost, 24, Amazing Race, Deadliest Catch, Pimp My Truck, Greys Anatomy, Boston Legal, OC and Sponge Bob Square Pants. It is really amazing(read: sad). I have sat in this room so long staring at the TV I am starting to look very pale and my eyes are falling to the back of my head. It is really amazing(read: exaggerated). This weekend I was informed about a channel that I did not know existed. Exercise-on-Demand. Channel 980 or something. The thing is you can bring up Pilates, Yoga, Stretching, Abs, Running, Meditation classes at any time. Now, I really don't ever have to leave my room but to eat and go to work. It is really amazing(read:amazing). Well, it was amazing till I just attempted a level two Abs class taught by a Nazi with steel abs. I am now forced to write this blog laying on the floor, because my abdominals hurt so bad I can not get myself off the floor. It is really quite amazing(read: "I need help!") So, I think tomorrow I am going to try something that sounds easier like this one I saw on there, "Breathing made Easy". But the whole, Tivo and On-Demand stuff is pretty cool, I just wish I could better limit myself to how much TV I watch a night, because it has gotten out of control lately. But hey that is my life's weakness, not knowing how to or when to stop doing things that are bad for me. Like right now it is 230 and I should be asleep, but I just can't seem to stop and go to bed. It is really amazing(read: no it is't). So on that note I will show a bit of control and go to bed before it gets much later. First, I got to watch a show though! Until next time.
Sunday, February 26, 2006
The Three Burials of Kevin Morris
Before you all start cheering and fighting over my belongings, I did not really die. I did not even almost die. I just saw a movie this weekend by Tommy Lee Jones, and I liked the title so much I figured I would steal it. The problem is I do not know how to make a blog or a story coincide with that title. But I will try anyways.
Burial one. I took a huge step this weekend. Not distance wise, because I have short legs, I mean mentally. I killed off one of my personalities. One of the ones I seldom use. It was the personality that controls all of my fashion taste. I decided that other people need to just pick clothes for me, maybe even dress me too. I have no idea what trendy is. I had a slight idea one year when I bought a pair of jeans that came with bleach wrinkles in it, and I wore that pair every time I wanted to feel trendy. But about two weeks ago that pair split open and I was back to wearing Walmart brand highwaters. I am so far behind the times that I still think my Doc Martins are trendy. I know that most of you have even forgot that these shoes even existed, but I know of one pair that does, and is used quite a bit. I was going to wear them out on the town this weekend and I was stopped in my tracks by my more trendy friends and they told me that I could not wear those shoes out in public with them. They preceded to lock me in the bathroom and they went on their way. So I figured it was time to just do away with that personality all together. I will have to give clothes picking out duties to a different personality, one that is not overloaded with duties. That would be my books/reading personality. This way maybe I will start to pick clothes that look good. I am good at judging a book by its cover so maybe I can use that mentality when I go to the mall or Solo Serve next time. The main point is however, that I did bury my fashion taste personality.
Burial Two. My second burial was more a dream I had this past week. I had stayed out late on a work night, had been to Cowboys, and had had a few adult beverages. All of these mixed together with paranoia that I wouldn't wake up in time for work and be fired, made for the best recipe for crazy dreams. In this dream I was me, but I was a me that had been created in the image of Steve Erwin. If you do not know who Steve Erwin is, he is the bloke who when people are running away from dangerous life taking animals, he is running at them with a goofy grin, an accent and bare hands. He is the Crocodile Hunter if you still need help. Anyways, in my dream I was catching ferocious varments and snakes with my hands at ease. With each dangerous animal I caught, the harder the task got. I went from catching a squirrel, to a jackalope, to a badger, to a bald eagle. Then the tougher stuff started happening. I caught a skunk, a rabid fox, a small alligator, and a rattle snake under a rock. Next, was a huge crocodile and then the grandaddy of them all was about to take place next. A nest of water moccasins 12 feet deep in a river of heavily flowing water. I think my real life extreme fear of swimming underwater onto a nest of water moccasins caused my dream self to hesitate when he shouldn't have, because, the next thing I know I am dreaming of myself being vi=olently attacked by what seemed like 300 snakes. I was covered from head to toe in snakes that had a firm grip of my skin with their fangs and I was flailing my arms and legs.... Ahhh I was doing the same thing in real life, flailing around on my bed, kicking the covers off, and sweating. Needless to say, I was up in time for work because of not being able to get back to bed, and I luckily did not have to go through with the end of the dream, where I would be buried at the bottom of the river.
Burial Three. In keeping with the movie in which I took its title, I will leave the third burial up to the audience to read into. Maybe some of you want me dead so that you can get my big TV or drive my sweet car. Maybe some of you want me to stop having deadpan humor, and write about things that make since to at least middle schoolers. Still others just might think I am dead wrong about both of the last two ideas. So what ever the case, I am going to bury my 30 pound head into my pillow and and hopefully fall dead asleep. Until next time.
Burial one. I took a huge step this weekend. Not distance wise, because I have short legs, I mean mentally. I killed off one of my personalities. One of the ones I seldom use. It was the personality that controls all of my fashion taste. I decided that other people need to just pick clothes for me, maybe even dress me too. I have no idea what trendy is. I had a slight idea one year when I bought a pair of jeans that came with bleach wrinkles in it, and I wore that pair every time I wanted to feel trendy. But about two weeks ago that pair split open and I was back to wearing Walmart brand highwaters. I am so far behind the times that I still think my Doc Martins are trendy. I know that most of you have even forgot that these shoes even existed, but I know of one pair that does, and is used quite a bit. I was going to wear them out on the town this weekend and I was stopped in my tracks by my more trendy friends and they told me that I could not wear those shoes out in public with them. They preceded to lock me in the bathroom and they went on their way. So I figured it was time to just do away with that personality all together. I will have to give clothes picking out duties to a different personality, one that is not overloaded with duties. That would be my books/reading personality. This way maybe I will start to pick clothes that look good. I am good at judging a book by its cover so maybe I can use that mentality when I go to the mall or Solo Serve next time. The main point is however, that I did bury my fashion taste personality.
Burial Two. My second burial was more a dream I had this past week. I had stayed out late on a work night, had been to Cowboys, and had had a few adult beverages. All of these mixed together with paranoia that I wouldn't wake up in time for work and be fired, made for the best recipe for crazy dreams. In this dream I was me, but I was a me that had been created in the image of Steve Erwin. If you do not know who Steve Erwin is, he is the bloke who when people are running away from dangerous life taking animals, he is running at them with a goofy grin, an accent and bare hands. He is the Crocodile Hunter if you still need help. Anyways, in my dream I was catching ferocious varments and snakes with my hands at ease. With each dangerous animal I caught, the harder the task got. I went from catching a squirrel, to a jackalope, to a badger, to a bald eagle. Then the tougher stuff started happening. I caught a skunk, a rabid fox, a small alligator, and a rattle snake under a rock. Next, was a huge crocodile and then the grandaddy of them all was about to take place next. A nest of water moccasins 12 feet deep in a river of heavily flowing water. I think my real life extreme fear of swimming underwater onto a nest of water moccasins caused my dream self to hesitate when he shouldn't have, because, the next thing I know I am dreaming of myself being vi=olently attacked by what seemed like 300 snakes. I was covered from head to toe in snakes that had a firm grip of my skin with their fangs and I was flailing my arms and legs.... Ahhh I was doing the same thing in real life, flailing around on my bed, kicking the covers off, and sweating. Needless to say, I was up in time for work because of not being able to get back to bed, and I luckily did not have to go through with the end of the dream, where I would be buried at the bottom of the river.
Burial Three. In keeping with the movie in which I took its title, I will leave the third burial up to the audience to read into. Maybe some of you want me dead so that you can get my big TV or drive my sweet car. Maybe some of you want me to stop having deadpan humor, and write about things that make since to at least middle schoolers. Still others just might think I am dead wrong about both of the last two ideas. So what ever the case, I am going to bury my 30 pound head into my pillow and and hopefully fall dead asleep. Until next time.
Thursday, February 23, 2006
MySpace-by-Boris
Do you remember the old quote your parents used to tell you right after you explained to them that everyone was doing it. "Well if everyone was jumping off a cliff, would you?" Well, I unfortunately would probably jump off the cliff if everyone was, which is exactly why I now have a My Space account. In fact this will take you there. It is not a lavish effort, yet. I have now spent 4 hours on it and it looks like I have spent 4 minutes on it. It is frustrating and fascinating at the same time. I basically already don't like it, but at the same time I can not concentrate on this blog because I am thinking of stuff to do to my My Space page. Basically, I have out dorked myself. But if everyone else is doing it can't be so bad. I heard a stat that almost 50 million people have a my space account. That is a lot of people jumping off a cliff. Anyways, I think the only people that read MyBlog have a MySpace account too so I will refrain from bashing us too much more. You know who is a bit up set with my new friend? My Blog. She sees the writing on the wall that I will be spending much more time with MySpace and she will get the cold shoulder. But that is not true I think I like MyBlog more because she is so simple and laid back. MySpace is a wild girl and I am not sure I am ready to put the time and effort into making our friendship grow like it should. I do think I might lead her on for a while and maybe just make it as a place where you can find a link to my true love: MyBlog. So even as I am about to finnish this blog I realize that MySpace has wasted one whole night of my MyLife. I am up at 2:15 still needing to finnish laundry and still not ready to go to bed. And all I have to show for it is 5 new friends. Wait, it took me 7 months to get five readers on this thing, and five hour to get five friends on MySpace. Maybe I will spend my nights and days working on MySpace just like 50 million other people, 1,2,3... jump. Until next MyTime.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
