.02 from a three-dollar Bill

Just bein bros

Sun, 04 Jul 2010 09:29:24 -0500

Wife: You and Tex have some, not so secret relationship.

Me: Pfffft. Tex and I just hang, drink Natty Ice, play Gamecube, and listen to Dave Matthews Band. You know, just being bros.

Wife: Ugh. Even I think that's gay, and I just watched four hours of Jane Austen.

America and its food

Sun, 20 Jun 2010 15:17:00 -0500

Last night, my friend Rhys and I decided to take part in a challenge. To really get an experience for something that I felt was American, through and through. It started out simple. We were going to eat that new KFC Double Down sandwich. It evolved from there, though. We added to that one QuikTrip Cheeseburger Roller a piece.

I had stopped in Owasso at a KFC off of 76th street. I pulled up to the drive-thru and ordered two Double Downs. What I found paticularly interesting was what the cashier said. “Ok, will that be all for you guys?” As if to say, that no one person would order two of the Double Down. I replied with hearty laughter, and said that was good. I could see that she was taken aback by me as I was the sole occupant of the car. Let me also say that 4.99 for this sandwich should be a federal crime.

Anyway, from there I went to the QuikTrip just right down the road. I picked up two of the worst looking Cheeseburger Rollers. When I got to the counter, I asked the cashier if he had eaten one of these. He said he had. I asked him what he thought, and he replied “It’s good”. When those words left his mouth, he put on a fake smile. One of those ones where the muscles in your face contract, but your eyes remain dead. I cocked my head, and said “Are you sure?” he replied “Yeah, honestly.” and gave me that same dead smile again. It was very Stepford Wives.

I arrive at Rhys’s house and our bounty was laid out.

Yes, that looks awful, I know.

We decided that the Cheeseburger Roller was a good warm up for the main event. I wasn’t worried as my constitution is pretty high after eating garbage most of my life.

Rhys attached his roller with much gusto while our friend Zack looked concerned.

I met his ferocity with my own.

I must say, for as disgusting as they look, they really just taste like a very dry cheeseburger. I would never eat one again, but it wasn’t as offensive as I thought it would be.

Let me preface this next part by saying no one should eat a Double Down ever. I did this for all of you. Well, all of you, and the chance to take some funny pictures and write about it.

Say hello to the KFC Double Down. The main event of last night’s challenge.

That cheese you see there was best described by my friend Nikki as feeling like cooling paraffin wax. I had to agree and had my first doubts that I could pull this off. I mean look at it. If you tilt your head, it looks like a diseased chicken vagina.

Rhys started off with far less gusto.

What you see here is a man rethinking his life.

I never could back down from a challenge, though.

I bit into it, and let me tell you, I almost immediately spat it back out. It was dry, and the texture was just so foreign to me. As my teeth gnashed down on the two chicken breasts, and made contact with the bacon in the middle, I immediately regretted this decision.

As you can see, my friend Nikki is also immediately regretting her decision to try a bite.

As far as taste goes, it tasted like sodium. That’s it. There was so much sodium in it, you couldn’t even taste the bacon. This thing was made up of chicken, two different kinds of cheese, bacon, and the “Colonel’s Sauce” and my mouth was on fire like you poured salt in a wound.

Just finishing it was not the end of the Double Down, though. Oh no, gentle readers. This foodbomination decided to remind me why America kicks ass, by sitting in my stomach like an angry brick. If I moved to suddenly, it was like my stomach was fighting to catch up with me. Rhys described it best when he said “You know when they electrocute someone in the movies, and the lights flicker and fade when the switch is thrown? That’s what this feels like. My stomach is trying so hard to digest this, that the rest of me is fading and flickering”.

I can’t believe we have something like this being sold. I mean, I get why KFC is doing it. They’ve decided to help us out with our obesity epidemic. They must have realized that if they can sell this, and kill off some of the fatter population, not only would that help get rid of the obese, but it would also help with over population. It’s a smart plan to say the least, Colonel.

Portrait of the new American family

Fri, 18 Jun 2010 21:06:55 -0500

Recently I was lambasted for decrying the lovely buffet institution known as Golden Corral. It’s fair. I’m not an elitist about a lot of things, but I cannot stand that place. This weekend is the double whammy of my father-in-law’s birthday and father’s day. Now, earlier in the week, my wife had asked him where he wanted to go, and he said “Oh, I don’t know. IHOP is good. Your mother likes it.”

My wife could have clapped her yap and we would have been safe.

Instead she said “Well, it’s your birthday. Let’s go where you want to go.” She has since realized the error of her ways.

Anyway, I’m going to digress a minute. My friend Rhys has become quite the shutterbug since his backpack trip around the world. He likes to take pictures almost everywhere he goes. I really wish I would have had him with me tonight.

Sitting at a table were a morbidly obese mother, her morbidly obese husband, and their morbidly obese son. He had a fistful of french fries off his plate, and was eating them out of said fist. His porky fingers squeezing them so tight that they were splintering. The dad was eating something. I wish I could say what, but he had covered everything on his plate with ketchup.

Everything.

It looked like he was eating some vile tomato pudding. The mother was the worst of all, though. She had decided to eat with one hand and play Vampire Wars on her netbook in Golden Corral with her family right in front of her.

I don’t understand this. I’m no proponent of the nuclear family, but this was insane. When did something like this become ok?

What made it worse was as I was walking by, I noticed the mom had ran out of…. whatever it is you run out of playing Vampire Wars, and then switched over to Runescape. I only know Vampire Wars from all the annoying Facebook apps I get spammed at me. Just now I searched out Runescape and saw it was a free online MMORPG.

I’m stunned that she would rather play as some fantasy online character, than eat with her family.

I hate Golden Corral.

Wanna know what I do at work all day?

Wed, 28 Apr 2010 19:45:11 -0500

Create the hottest new bands in Tulsa.

Below is a chat transcript that took place while we were working.

Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: Juggalo Scientists

2:40:56 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: That’s a great band name

2:41:01 PM: Charles R. Hesting/VEND/OK/Verizon: haha

2:41:06 PM: Charles R. Hesting/VEND/OK/Verizon: it actually is

2:41:42 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: We should form that band

2:41:53 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: Do techno club covers of ICP songs

2:41:59 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: In face paint and lab coats

2:43:32 PM: Kathleen M. Turney/VEND/OK/Verizon: you people scare me

2:43:57 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: We can make multiple remixes of the same song, and play them all in the same night

2:44:07 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: Get enough people on acid, and they’ll never know

2:44:13 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: CHARLES, ARE YOU IN?!

2:44:27 PM: Charles R. Hesting/VEND/OK/Verizon: IM IN

2:44:37 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: TO THE SCIENCE LAB!

2:44:45 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: That’s how we’ll start every show

2:44:48 PM: Charles R. Hesting/VEND/OK/Verizon: YOU GET THE COATZ, I GET THE FAYGO

2:44:53 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: YES!

2:45:00 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: Now that’s a way to start a show

2:45:17 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: Then we’ll click play on our Macbook and start spraying Faygo everywhere

2:45:33 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: I’ll be Fatty2Phat and you can be Violet H

2:45:36 PM: Charles R. Hesting/VEND/OK/Verizon: and jump up and down like a sic mad clown

2:45:39 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: And that’s not a typo

2:45:55 PM: Charles R. Hesting/VEND/OK/Verizon: I want to be violent bluetoof

2:45:58 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: Done

2:46:18 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: This is going to be the greatest Tulsa band since Imzadi

2:46:32 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: We’ll get people to rave all night

2:46:40 PM: Charles R. Hesting/VEND/OK/Verizon: guzzle all day

2:46:56 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: We’ll have spinning trollfaces on either side of the stage

2:47:24 PM: Charles R. Hesting/VEND/OK/Verizon: the subtlety will fly over the juggajonz heads

2:48:15 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: JURGURJURNZ HEARDZ

2:48:38 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: I’m actually thinking we’ll get Juggalos to protest our shows

2:48:45 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: And that will make us more popular

2:48:46 PM: Charles R. Hesting/VEND/OK/Verizon: haha

2:48:54 PM: Charles R. Hesting/VEND/OK/Verizon: we will be the martyrs

2:48:59 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: Yes!

2:49:08 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: I always knew I’d die at the hands of a Juggalo

2:49:11 PM: Charles R. Hesting/VEND/OK/Verizon: the juggalos that stood up for science

2:49:12 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: It’ll be a miracle

2:49:25 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: OH SNAP!

2:49:28 PM: Charles R. Hesting/VEND/OK/Verizon: we should have magnets somewhere in our name

2:49:35 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: Spinning Trollfaces in ICP paint

2:49:40 PM: Charles R. Hesting/VEND/OK/Verizon: hahaha

2:49:52 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: We can have Magnets be the title of our first album

2:50:25 PM: Charles R. Hesting/VEND/OK/Verizon: Theory of general relativity will be the title of our next

2:50:33 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: Genetics will be the third

2:50:55 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: Each album will come with a free bookmark

2:51:03 PM: Charles R. Hesting/VEND/OK/Verizon: the album art will be a hybrid of charles darwin and richard dawkins

2:51:06 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: With random science facts on them

2:51:09 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: Ha ha ha

2:51:09 PM: Charles R. Hesting/VEND/OK/Verizon: haha

2:51:48 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: Charles, we can tell people our real names are Charles Dawkins and Richard Darwin

2:51:56 PM: Charles R. Hesting/VEND/OK/Verizon: haha

2:52:05 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: I wanna be Dicky Darwin

2:52:14 PM: Charles R. Hesting/VEND/OK/Verizon: I bet this would actually work

2:52:23 PM: Charles R. Hesting/VEND/OK/Verizon: I’ll be c-dawk

2:53:13 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: It would work!

2:53:18 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: C-Dawk is great!

2:53:36 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: C-Dawk and Dicky Darwin, the Juggaluggalo Scientists

2:53:59 PM: Charles R. Hesting/VEND/OK/Verizon: all our songs will sound like spaceships

2:54:03 PM: Charles R. Hesting/VEND/OK/Verizon: with clowns in them

2:54:44 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: yussssssss

2:55:12 PM: Charles R. Hesting/VEND/OK/Verizon: there will be beakers with faygo in them

2:55:16 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: Ha ha

2:55:35 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: We’ll have other ones with Diet Coke so we can drop Mentos into them

2:56:12 PM: Charles R. Hesting/VEND/OK/Verizon: faygo bombs

3:00:09 PM: Michael D. Conrady/VEND/OK/Verizon: this is some of the funniest sh@t i have ever heard

3:00:19 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: It’s genius, right?

3:00:31 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: I’m starting an angry buzz on Twitter and Facebook as we speak

3:00:35 PM: Michael D. Conrady/VEND/OK/Verizon: can i be in your protege side project

3:00:52 PM: Michael D. Conrady/VEND/OK/Verizon: itll be like twixtid to your icp

3:00:57 PM: Michael D. Conrady/VEND/OK/Verizon: twiztid*

3:01:02 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: Hrm. We’ll have to see

3:01:09 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon:

3:01:12 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: *maybe

3:01:45 PM: Michael D. Conrady/VEND/OK/Verizon: i was be Sir Isaac Jefferson Lincoln

3:01:58 PM: Michael D. Conrady/VEND/OK/Verizon: wanna*

3:02:06 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: That’s not hood enough

3:02:10 PM: Michael D. Conrady/VEND/OK/Verizon: damn

3:02:37 PM: Michael D. Conrady/VEND/OK/Verizon: Sir Ballsaac Nu-Ton

3:02:44 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: NOW YOU’RE THINKIN!

3:04:00 PM: Michael D. Conrady/VEND/OK/Verizon: Gay-a-lay-ho

3:04:10 PM: Michael D. Conrady/VEND/OK/Verizon: Galli-lay-ho

3:04:23 PM: Michael D. Conrady/VEND/OK/Verizon: im sleepy

3:04:26 PM: Michael D. Conrady/VEND/OK/Verizon: these are bad

3:04:30 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: Hrm. That’s not so good

3:05:32 PM: Michael D. Conrady/VEND/OK/Verizon: 9stein

3:05:34 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: How about this

3:05:40 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: Sir Ballzac Neutron

3:05:48 PM: Michael D. Conrady/VEND/OK/Verizon: excellent

3:07:46 PM: Billy L. Carr/VEND/OK/Verizon: You cold also go with Tech 9stein

See? Clearly I’m destined for greatness.

If you don’t get the joke/brilliance, feel free to watch the following.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_-agl0pOQfs&feature=fvsr

The past twenty four hours.

Wed, 21 Apr 2010 18:03:00 -0500

The past twenty four hours have been fraught with mishaps, adventure, and running. I’ve been wanting to write all damn day because I’ve been inspired by this new blog my friend Brock turned me on to.

http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/

It’s seriously funny stuff.

Anyway, last night my good friend Rhys came over, and he, the wife, and I watched No Country For Old Men. I had not seen it yet, and it’s a slow paced, amazing movie. I finally got to see this man in action.

Creepy, and my new best friend.

I’m getting ahead of myself, though. Before we started the movie, Rhys and I were chatting about important things like space, and that time I crammed 14 full size marshmallows in my mouth on a bet. It’s harder than it sounds folks. So we were chatting, and I said, “Hey, Rhys” and he said “What’s up, kid” and I said, “You know what would fuel two hipsters like us?” and he said “Mafukkin Edamame”, to which I heartily said “Word”. So, I rambled on over to the microwave, tossed in the bag, and hit COOK DIS SHIT. The microwave chimed into action

and then promptly died.

I was taken aback. I pushed the buttons, and kind of had a moment like I was a stray dog, and my other stray dog friend got hit by a car. I nudged it, and whined, but nothing.

“Rhys”, I said. He looked at me all smiles and said “Edamame time?”. I took a deep breath and informed him of the bad news.

Now, I don’t know if you know Rhys, but he has a very explosive personality. The room immediately got darker around him, as he whispered the word “what?” I tried to soothe him with promises of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and he yelled out “JELLY IS THE WORK OF THE DEVIL, AND YOU SIR ARE A HERETIC!! BURN FOR YOUR SINS!!!”

Luckily his lighter was out of fluid.

Well, we got him soothed with turkey and cheese on wheat, but that was a close one. I don’t see how his wife handles his inappropriate temper. She is a saint.

Anyway, I went to bed directly after the movie cause I had to be up at 3:30a to get ready for work. I woke up, showered, and happily went off to my job. While there I got to speak with a man named Jim Taser.

Jim Taser called us because his password was not working. Jim Taser works with very important systems. Systems that Jim Taser needs access to immediately. Let me tell you something, folks. When Jim Taser asks you to do something, you just do it. Feeling like I was finally part of Team Taser, I reset his password, and he attempted to log on to his very important system. What follows is a brief transcript.

Me: There you are, sir!

Jim Taser: Ok, it’s prompting me for a new password.

Me: That’s normal. What you’ll want to do is pick a password of at least eight characters, with uppercase letters, lowercase letters, and numbers in any combination.

Jim Taser: Ok. How do I make capital letters?

Now, I was taken aback at this. I mean, I know Jim Taser has to worry about adventuring and punching evil Doctor Bee Mouth in the face, so I went ahead and answered him politely, feeling like the science member of Team Taser.

Me: Hold Ctrl, and hit your key.

Jim Taser: That makes sense.

NO IT DOES NOT BECAUSE I WAS SO TAKEN ABACK AT YOU NOT KNOWING HOW TO DO THIS THAT I SCREWED IT UP!!! My audition for Team Taser was not going well, folks.

Me: Wait, I’m sorry. It’s the shift key.

Jim Taser: Oh. No problem.

Me: *fist pump*

Jim Taser: Ok, it doesn’t like my password.

Me: Well, what did you use?

Jim Taser: Letters and numbers.

Me: ……. Good. What letters and numbers?

Jim Taser: Oh. 123456jt

Me: *grinding teeth* Oh, ok. That’s not going to work, Mr. Taser.

Jim: Well, I don’t know what to do.

Me: *in a commanding voice* Here’s what we’re gonna do, Taser. What’s your favorite sports team?

Jim Taser: The Giants

Me: Great, and what year were you born?

Jim Taser: Fifty-Five

Me: Ok, so make your password Giants55.

Jim Taser: Hey, hey! That worked!! You’re a genius!

And that ended my audition for Team Taser. I hope to have a call back soon.

Also at work, we have this Instant Message software. We all get into various group chats and talk about nonsense to let off steam. Now, I’m a morning person, so it’s no big deal for me to be bright eyed and busy haired, when I go somewhere. These guys in chat were more of the night owl persuasion, so I related my story about summer school.

My english summer school teacher taught me that you have to treat morning like you’re a recovering addict. Once you get out of bed, the hardest part of your day is over. It’s easy to just lay in bed. It’s hard to face the day. That advice has always stuck with me. He also had an awesome story about cheeseburgers and euthanasia, but that’s for another time. Anyway, this story, that I felt was inspirational was met with “You went to a weird school.”

Asshats.

Well, I ended up starting to feel really sick, and went home. I got home, and laid down around noon.

POWER NAP FOR THREE AND A HALF HOURS

I woke up with my sweet wife stroking my hair. We had made the decision earlier today that I was going to attempt jogging today. This is a big deal for me, because I don’t run….. anywhere…… ever. However, many folks have recently come into my life who make running out to be the best thing since bananas and mustard.

So, I went for it today. I ran in intervals of one minute on, and one minute off. This nearly killed me. I was gasping, my heart was hammering, and I was light headed.

But I did it, and I’m gonna do it again.

Tomorrow though, is Ballroom Dancing!

Not expected

Mon, 19 Apr 2010 20:20:21 -0500

First, feel free to enjoy this song while you read.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PxyISsA0Oh0

Now, when I was a young lad, I remember waking up one morning. The sun was streaming through these flimsy navajo inspired curtains my mom got at a garage sale. I smiled. Big. Something I never do when I first wake up. I literally threw myself out of bed, turned on this very song, and set to work getting ready for the day. That was the beginning of a good day.

Flash forward more years than I would care to count, and I was dreading today. My new job has jacked with my schedule. I’m going to bed between eight and nine every night, and getting up at four in the morning. It’s not easy. Today was going to be rough. I was going in knowing that it was going to be busy, and on top of this I was working more overtime. Don’t get it twisted readers, the OT has been helping my finances a lot, but I’m usually exhausted when I get home. I showed up at 6:00a, and everyone at work was quiet. I mean, quiet like a gallows quiet.

(sigh)

I sat down and started my day. Guess what? Even though it was a ten hour day, it was a breeze. I left in a great mood. After work, a friend reminded me that I’m a good person. “What?” You might be asking yourselves. Yeah, I’ve been feeling kind of rotten about myself lately. I’ve said and done things I’m not proud of, and I’ve been brooding about it recently. More importantly, I’ve felt like a bad friend. Mostly because I’ve cut myself off from people due to my new schedule.

Anyway, my friend reminded me how good I should feel about myself, and I love her for it.

I walked in, and found my lovely wife working out. I kissed her, and sat down to cheer her on. Then I did my own workout. After a delicious dinner chock full of good vegetables and watching Always Sunny in Philadelphia, I sat down to write this.

Everyone is amazing, and I’m feeling fantastic. You are all wonderful, beautiful people who have the ability to make it through any struggle and work through any problem. If you need me for anything, I’m here.

And now, because I can’t sign off without appealing to all sides of my music tastes, I leave you with this.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aScxNoNgJUw

I heard this song in the late 90’s. I was living in Amarillo at the time, and to this day, I have to nod my head when I hear it.

Changes are coming, people. I’m ready.

Priorities

Sat, 17 Apr 2010 12:01:34 -0500
Me: How would you feel about me becoming a revolutionary?

Wife: Would you wave a flag?

Me: Well, it would probably be more violent, and...

Wife: Would you have a flag?

Me: ........ I guess?

Wife: Could I twirl the flag?

Me: ...... You know, I'm talking about violent revolution here.

Wife: COULD. I. TWIRL. YOUR. FLAG?!

Me: (sigh) Yes

Wife: Then go for it.

I was a strange child

Thu, 25 Mar 2010 17:31:00 -0500

First off, let me thank Summer at The Circus Comes To Town, seen here http://thecircushascometotown.blogspot.com/ , for the prestigious award she felt compelled to bestow upon me.

I’ve never won anything on the internet really, so this was nice. Apparently she thinks I’m witty and caustic enough to bring sunshine to her day. Thanks, Summer. I’ll try to live up to it.

As a kid, my parents would ship me off to my Grandmother’s house for about a month every summer. I imagined it was so they could have crazy, Eyes Wide Shut style orgies while I was away. I mean, who wants a kid running into the room asking for more hamburger helper while their mom is getting plowed by eight or more dudes in masks?

Anyway, during these times I would wake up about six or seven in the morning, and I knew she was already awake. I could smell her cheap cigarettes, and black coffee wafting down the hallway. It’s probably my second favorite smell, now that I think about it. I would plod down the hallway, and sit down at the table. She in turn, would look over at me, smile and ask what I wanted for breakfast. Almost always the answer was toast and juice. No one makes toast like my Grandmother used to.

After eating, I would head outside to sit on her porch swing. There, I would swing, listen to the birds, and smell the morning dew. This is very possibly my first favorite smell. These mornings were the best I’ve ever had. Everything was perfect. I’d likely ride my bike at this point to the playground where I would hang around for a couple of hours, and then I would ride back to my grandmother’s house.

Still smoking and drinking coffee, she would ask what was for lunch, and I would invariably say, “Blue Soup”. At that point, we would both take points in the kitchen, grabbing anything we could off the shelves. My grandmother would fill a pot on the stove, and in would go any ingredients we could get our hands on. We called it Blue Soup, because for some reason, I would always dump blue food coloring into it. This gave the soup a rather strangely appealing deep blue color. I never really knew what all went into the blue soup, but it always tasted good. I’d like to think my grandmother would keep the items closest to me acceptable for random soup making.

After Blue Soup, we would sit at the table. The wind would be pushing her gauzy curtains back and forth, and the smell of black coffee and cigarettes would still linger. Neither of us would ever say a word during those times. We didn’t have to. It was quiet, peaceful, and perfect.

I never liked it at the end of summer when my parents would come to get me. Back there, I was just a weird little friendless boy. At my grandmother’s house though, I was a master chef, and the creator of Blue Soup who enjoyed his quiet, dew filled mornings, and the smell of black coffee and cigarettes.

Older n jesus

Sun, 21 Mar 2010 20:03:30 -0500

So,the ORIGINAL plan was to revisit Arbuckle Wilderness or the Big Cat preserve near there. However, as the weather constantly changes in Oklahoma, so too can plans. With the snow a comin down, we decided to stay warm and safe hear at the hacienda. Guh. Enough of that.

Anyway, Friday night I went and watched Tron with my friends Chris, Rhys, Indi, Nikki, and Mike. Hanging out at Rhys and Indi’s was fun. After Tron was over, we watched Twilight with Rifftrax on. Rifftrax barely contained my rage over this movie. I still burst out in fits once in a while, much to Indi and Nikki’s delight.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLadies.

When I got there, Rhys had said that he had a gift for me. Naturally, I couldn’t wait to see it as Rhys is nothing if not creative. He presented me with a box of Oatmeal Squares. Now, for a moment, I thought the box was going to explode, or be filled with Metamucil, or something. Rhys assured me that it was indeed JUST Oatmeal Squares. I thanked him and before I could ask why he bought that, he showed me.

Yes, he took a nice photo of the box in some lovely greenery. I couldn’t have been more appreciative. I haven’t figured out where I’m going to hang it, butfor now, it rests on my shelf of awesomeness.

I got home that night around 1:00a, and went straight to bed. The next morning it was my birthday proper. All day long I received a LOT of birthday messages from people, and it was very touching. My friends Chris and Cory had stayed the night, and we ate breakfast and had a quiet morning. My wife was impatient, and wanted to get the gift giving a going, and really, who am I to refuse?

Now, some of you will remember this photo of me taken outside Eureka Springs, Arkansas at some outlet store. It was me “fighting the power”.

Cute, I know. Still, it was a fun memory from a fun trip with my wife, and the aforementioned Chris and Cory.

Well, Cory was amazing. She took this photo which was lovingly dubbed by her and my wife as me hulking out, and drew this.

Yes, she drew me a freehand piece of art. One of me actually hulking out. It too sits on my shelf of awesomeness. Abs shown to scale, BTW.

Chris gave me his present next.

Friends, this is one of the most gawdawful piece of crap games I have ever played. Mind you, not one of the worst games ever, but one of the worst I’VE ever played. It’s especially disappointing because it has such a neat premise. Chris got this for me largely as a gag, because he followed it up with this.

He told me the specs on it, but all I heard was blah, blah, blah GAS FUCKING MASK blah. I can’t tell you how excited I was for this. For YEARS I’ve wanted a gas mask. Largely because I’m a fan of masks, but also because I’m crazy. I immediately put it on, and almost suffocated. I had to pull the cap off to breathe in it, you see. Details.

My wife’s present had not arrived yet, but it was also incredibly thoughtful.

These aren’t actual tickets, but they are coming, and I’m going to see LES CLAYPOOL. Well, me and one guest. I can’t decide if I want to take the wife or not. She isn’t really a Claypool fan, and I don’t think she would appreciate it as much as some of my other friends would. I have to think on this decision.

Other than that, we spent a majority of the time playing Super Mario Bros. for the Wii. I bought that for myself though, so it doesn’t deserve a picture. I will say that if you have a Wii, you have to own this game. It is gorgeous, and plays just like an old school Mario game should. The addition of 4 players at once was challenging, though. Too many people on a teeny platform had me feeling claustrophobic at times.

This weekend definitely goes down as a win, in my book. Sure I didn’t get to play with a baby lion again, or pet a bear cub like last year, but this was an awesome weekend.

Oh, and because I’m sure someone would have asked for it.

Sweet dreams, all.

A birthday win

Fri, 19 Mar 2010 18:06:21 -0500
Me:(GASP!)

Joy: What?

Me: It's my birthday!

Joy: Yeah?

Me: And it's supposed to snow this weekend!

Joy: Okayyyyyy

Me: I CAN WEAR THE PUPPY COAT THIS WEEKEND!!

Joy: (Brain explodes) *whisper* Yes, it's your birthday

Me: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

The scene of an accident

Thu, 18 Mar 2010 19:30:00 -0500

I was sitting on my couch when my mom called me. As usual, I was exasperated just from seeing her name. “Hello” I said as dryly as possible.”Billy? Can you come to Riverview Baptist? I got rear ended. I’m fine. The dog is fine. I just need you to come here.” I sat stunned for a moment. “Of course. I’ll be there shortly.” I grabbed my keys, and on the way out the door, I told the wife to exercise/eat without me, as I didn’t know how long I’d be gone.

When I pulled up, my mom was hysterical. She was sitting in her Toyota Rav, clutching the steering wheel, and sobbing heavily. I had not seen her this upset in a long time. She rolled down her window, and said “They’re gonna total it, I just know it. I don’t want to lose my car. I can’t” I tried to calm her down by speaking in soothing tone. “Oh, come on.” I said, “It can’t be that bad.” I wandered around to the side of the car, and saw she had just been scraped really hard on her rear passenger panel.

I came back around, and told her that it was gonna be fine. You could hardly see anything, and it really did blend in with the rest of her already beat up vehicle. My mom has never been the best driver. In fact, she’s likely the worst driver I know. I got her to come out of the car, and come take a look, and that started to calm her down quite a bit. The other people at the scene were the other driver, and the driver’s mom. The driver’s mom seemed nice enough. So did the driver, truth be told. They were asking if my mom was ok, and I muttered something about being shaken up.

I sat, and had my arm around my mom. She sat there quietly snuffling, and worrying her hands. When the cops arrived, she got a little apprehensive, but I again calmed her down, and told her the worst that would happen is that they would write her a ticket. “Go get your license and insurance.” I said, and she tottered off back to the driver side.

The cop, examined both vehicles, and got the license and insurance information from each driver. He talked to the other driver first. I couldn’t overhear what was being said, but it seemed pretty obvious when the first words out of the cops mouth when he came over were “Ma’am do you own a cell phone?” My mom said she did, and the cop asked if she had been on it. She said no, and he kind of nodded and stared at her car. My mom explained what happened, and right away, I knew my mom was at fault. I’m not basing that on any prejudice towards my mom’s regrettable abilities, it really did seem like she was at fault. In any even, it was around that time, that cop number two showed up.

Cop number two seemed more interested in crowd control as he gave me the once over the minute he got out of his car. I don’t really blame him, as I had on my exercise pants, a ratty tee, and my skull shoes. Top it off with my shaggy hair, and my creepy mustache, and I’m sure he sized me up in less than twenty seconds.

It went on as these things normally do. The second cop that showed up had a nice conversation with the mom, and her daughter. Then he breezed on by us, like we didn’t exist. This didn’t help my mood any. I didn’t really want to gab at this man, but it was clear that he had chosen a favorite in this situation, and it wasn’t the old, poorly dressed, practically senile lady, and her degenerate son.

As expected my mom got a ticket, but what surprised me was that she got two. One for the reckless driving, and one for not having current proof of insurance. As it happens, my mom had spilled the contents of her purse a few days ago, and part of what had fallen out was her new insurance. She never got around to putting it back in her purse, and we found it easily on her kitchen counter.

Here is where the story really begins, though.

My mom leans over to me and says “I hope your daddy isn’t drunk when he gets here.” I of course startled at this and queried “What?” She went on to tell me that after work he stops off for “a cold one” just about every night, then he come home and drinks Crown Royal on the rocks. I knew about the Crown Royal. I didn’t know he was getting drunk a lot. You see, when I was younger, my dad was an alcoholic. He’d get boozed up, come home and beat on me and mom for awhile, and then pass out. It’s part of the why I’m so awkward around him now. I never really felt good enough at anything around him. He was an honor student, I fucked off in school. He was in the military, I’m more what you would call non-combative. He is a hard worker, and well, I’m a hard worker, so I didn’t really fall too far from the tree there. There, and other ways that are best left to another story.

Anyway, my dad shows up, and it’s kind of obvious that he has had something to drink. I could barely smell it on him, and it could have been aftershave, but I’ve never known my dad to still smell like it at the end of the day. He got there just as the cops were leaving. I explained to my dad everything that happened, and he took it all in stride. Which was surprising to me, because me, my mom, and the wife all thought he was going to lose his mind.

We notice that mom’s tire had gone flat as a result of the impact. My mom has triple A, so I thought he would call them, and I wanted nothing more than to get out of there. Much to my chagrin, he decided to change the tire. The funny part of this situation is that the first cop as he is leaving said “What? You don’t know how to change a tire?” I glared at him for a full ten seconds before saying tersely “No.” I guess I could have justified it by saying that my dad worked a lot while I was growing up, at one point having three jobs, and when he wan’t working he was telling me how much I’m screwing up, so I never really wanted to spend time with him, but fuck this cop. He shook his head, and walked away leaving me feeling emasculated, and embarrassed.

So, my dad looks at me and says “You don’t know howto change a tire?” I kind of sighed, and said “No, dad. I never really had anyone to show me” He took this as an invitation to teach me right then and there how to change a tire, and it’s a lot easier than I once had thought. I don’t know that I could repeat it, but it’s handy to have done it once.

We said our goodbyes, and I stood in the parking lot for a minute thinking. What really bothered me about the whole thing was that I felt nothing. I wasn’t concerned about my mom. I wasn’t concerned about my dad’s possible fall back into alcoholism. I just didn’t care.

I’ve had a bad past couple of years, emotionally. Those of you in the know, know what I speak of. My relationship with my parents has never been more strained, and my relationship with the good lord strained, and broken. So I guess I’m not terribly surprised, I’m just shocked at how little I cared. I never thought I would reach that point. It used to be that you could pick on me all you wanted, but if you talked about my mom, I’d strangle you. In one case, literally. Though that cousin is a dick, and he totally deserved it. Plus he spit on me, but I’m getting off topic.

Here I sit. Two days before my thirty-third birthday. I’m trying to turn it around. I’ve been carrying a lot of anger around. A lot. At people, at religion, at everything. I’ve never been more acidic in my entire life. I’ve driven people away from me, and I don’t want to be that guy anymore. I don’t think I’ll ever get any feeling back for my folks, but I want to try and move forward. I just don’t know how many more of these accidents I can handle.

Is there a divorce listing for nerd boner killer?

Mon, 15 Mar 2010 18:05:21 -0500
Me: I might see if Rhys wants to hang out on Friday and watch Tron

Joy: Ugh.

Me: Hey! Tron is a sci-fi classic, and

(interrupting) Joy: Look. All I'm hearing is nerd, nerd, nerd, gay, nerd.

A declaration

Sun, 28 Feb 2010 20:39:29 -0600
Joy: It's part of how you love...... is to hump.

The logical answer

Thu, 25 Feb 2010 17:19:22 -0600
Co-Worker: I forgot what a pentagram looks like

Me: Draw a diagram?

That'll show her...

Sun, 21 Feb 2010 14:28:03 -0600
Joy: Don't put your wet butt on my computer!

Me: Don't put your computer on my wet butt!

Good enough, indeed.

Sat, 13 Feb 2010 16:07:23 -0600
Me: Of COURSE I'm black. I love your big butt, and who hits on you the most?
Joy: .......
Me: *Does the Ed Lover Dance*
Joy: Mexicans, actually.
Me: Meh. Good enough.

Does anyone have a safe place I can stay?

Fri, 05 Feb 2010 19:39:00 -0600
Me: Hey, I need your kisses.
Joy:........
Me: Or, I'm gonna hit you.
Joy: Hey! Do you want me to give you some Irish Sunglasses?!
Me: GASP!
Joy:.......
Me: That is REALLY sexy!

Here's why you suck as a parent.

Wed, 03 Feb 2010 20:17:00 -0600

Let me put a disclaimer out there. I speak in broad generalities. In addition, if what I’m about to say TRULY rubs you the wrong way, feel free to message me about it, or call me on my shit below. We can have a discussion about it.

Kids.

Hang on, I’m not pissed at kids in general. Hell, I may be ~~turning into~~ a curmudgeonly old man, but I still don’t mind kids. I just have some things I’d like to say.

First. Please teach your kids respect. One of my friends actually has taught her kids to open doors for people and be polite, just in general. That is amazing, and a perfect example of what I’m talking about. I was in a Wal-Mart once trying to check out at the automotive counter. Honestly, the smell of tires is euphoric to me for some reason, and it’s a quicker damn line. Win/win. This lady ahead of me had a kid who was bellowing at the top of his lungs about something. I really couldn’t catch because all I heard was the mom, in a flat, dead inside voice say “stop. stop. stop. stop it. stop it. stop it. seriously.” This mantra of hers repeated the whole time as was the perfect jackhammer in this kids noisy fucking street. She was not even embarrassed. She calmly stared dead ahead. So, staving off all desire to shake the both of them, I just looked away.

That is until I felt a tiny fist pound on my foot.

I looked down in horror, as this kid had thrown himself on the ground, and started pounding on it, and my foot. I let him hit me for at least a good thirty seconds while I tried to grasp this. Finally, the mom picks him up, and drags him to the counter. There, she propped him up against it, while she checked out. Pinning him with her knees on either side of his torso. He then proceeds to go motherfucking Rocky Balboa on her sides. I mean, this kid could have put Tyson down. Well, Tyson now, not Mike Tyson’s Punch-Out Tyson.

When I was a kid, my mom or my dad would have pulled me aside and threatened me within an inch of my life if I pulled that shit at home, and in public? Wow, I can’t even imagine the legendary ass beating because I never pulled stunts like that! This kid clearly knows no boundaries, rules, or has any respect, and he’ll grow up to be a selfish piece of shit.

Second: I hate, HAAAAAAATE the idea of private, religious schools. I’m mainly leveling my shotgun of hate at the christian schools around here, but if anyone knows of any other religious schools in this area, feel free to let me know, and I’ll hate them too. Private religious schools, or “Faith Factories”, as I like to call them may do a fine job in teaching your kids some things. Hell, they may even do a good job teaching your kid manners, but I refuse to believe that they offer a broad world view of things. They say themselves that they teach a faith based doctrine. You can teach someone about faith. You can’t teach someone to HAVE faith. That is something someone either develops on their own, or they don’t. Also, I believe in having a broad world view. Now, I was fortunate that one of my dad’s many obsessions was religion. To that end, we joined the Baha’i faith. To boil it down to it’s real basic teachings, all prophets are messengers of god, and all religions worship the same god. Other than that, it’s like most other religions. Do this, don’t do that, quit being a dick. I never had a problem with that last one until this past decade. Anyway, a school that teaches a faith based doctrine can’t possibly let kids make their own decisions regarding faith, or what they believe in. They are teaching them one way, and one way only. That is fascism, if you ask me.

Third. Home schooling may be a great way to protect your kid from the scary outside world but it leaves them unprepared to deal with social situations on their own. I really hate to say this, but I’m of the firm belief that kids need public schools to give them a starter course on life. Life is a jungle. Life is cruel. Life is also amazing, fun, and wonderful. You can only protect them for so long. Eventually, you have to let them go, or they will have to figure out how to act in social situations when they should have a good grasp on it. I’m also aware of parents taking their kids to parks, and what not to have social interaction. Sorry, that is still supervised by you. Kids need to make mistakes.

A good example of my argument JUST HAPPENED. A 22 year old soldier in Fayetteville, North Carolina was stalking and raping women who he KNEW were alone while their husbands were deployed or out on duty at Fort Bragg. This 22 year old even had huts built where he kept stockpiles of guns, knives, and ammo, so he could stalk them more efficiently. There are nine rapes he is being held accountable for, with more suspected. This 22 year old model citizen is the product of a strict religious, home schooled upbringing. His parents were both ministers, and they even worked alongside one of their local large mega-churches. They were so strict that if someone appeared on TV in a bathing suit, they would immediately change the channel. Oh, and did I mention this guy is a Tulsan? Thanks, buddy.

Additionally, I realize that any one of you can say “You don’t have/wan’t kids, so you can’t tell me how to raise mine”. You’re right. I can’t Nor would I force my beliefs on you. However, just because I don’t have/want kids doesn’t invalidate my opinions. I was a kid, after all. I saw the mistakes my parents made. I see the mistakes other parents make, and while I feel like my opinion is right, you probably feel just as strongly that yours is too.

The bottom line is, I had a rough childhood, both at home, and at school. I empathize with the need to shelter your kids from that. Still though, I wouldn’t trade my experiences growing up. Well, maybe the one where the girl said I raped her. That sucked.

Revenge

Fri, 22 Jan 2010 21:44:42 -0600
Joy: See? I haven't lost my touch.

Me: You've got the touch.

Joy: Don't

Me: YOU'VE GOT THE POWERRRRRRRRRR! YEAH!! *imitates guitar riff*

A lovely dinner

Fri, 22 Jan 2010 20:01:21 -0600
Me: You see Joy, a sixty-nine is when one man or woman lays like this...

*positions hand flat*

Me: annnnnnd the other man or woman lays like this...

*positions other hand flat in opposite direction*

Me: annnnnd then they do this...

*wriggles each middle finger towards other hand*

Me: to each other's genitalia

Joy: You need to stop that right now. People are trying to eat.

Me: *smiles*