old people smell bad

holy crap what kick ass day, you would never believe it.

i had just finished my mayonaise flavored slimfast shake and two diet cigarettes (yes, i am on a health kick) when i got a knock on the door. it was the guy from down the street. i could tell he had just finished working out cause his eyelids, which are more muscular than your average joe's, had a light sheen of sweat and were still ripped and pumped. he needed help.

see, i am like the encyclopedia brown of my neighborhood, people come to me to help them with thier problems like i'm scooby fucking doo, but i can't say no to them, i'm just not that kind of guy.

so this guy needed my help. now, usually when a guy comes to me for help, it's either to help them defend themself against an angry mob armed with pitchforks and torches, or they are being scared off thier land by what appears to be some kind of ghost, or other odd jobs that only i, with my varied and rare talents, am able to handle. one time, this dude asked me if i would be a "present" for his adopted asian twins on thier 21's birthday, which sounded like a sweet gig. turns out they were brothers, so that wasn't really a high moment for me, but a job's a job, heh?

well, this guy needed me to recover some "personal property" of his, and i do honor my clients privacy, so i won't go into details, but let me say this...knowing i am an expert in colonial furniture *AND* a master of the pan flute, it's no surprise he came to me. he dropped the 35 cents in my jar (my going rate) and i was on the case.

no sooner had i stepped outside my secretly fortified clubhouse/home/rented out garage and turned the corner when*WACK* i was run over by what felt like dumptruck on cocaine. after a few dazed seconds that anyone at burning man would have been fond of, i heard a voice...a voice of an angel. "how's your head?" it inquired of me. i looked up and saw a beautiful brunette lass, about my height, with shoulder length hair and cerulean eyes and a cute accent. "well," i said in my coolest voice, " i haven't had any complaints yet...are you free for lunch?"

as she helped me to me feet, she introduced herself as Monica Crumbcake, and it was her kangaroo that ran me over. she was from australia, and said things like "g'day" , "no worries" and "crikey" and kept offering me "vegemite" and asking if i heard the latest midnight oil cd, cause those are sterotypical things an australian might say in a movie by someone who doesn't know crap about australians, and that is how i am going to write this story so don't get all upset with me cause you don't really talk like that (i'm talking to you, australians).

monica explained that it was important we get the kangaroo back because this roo was actually hundreds of years old and is very special. this roo has a microchip implanted in it's tail, and on that chip is a map to a hidden temple where they keep "the book of all knowledge" which is a huge book of the true history of this world and has all the answers to all the secrets of the universe, including what the hell is *really* in an orange julius and where the white goes when the snow melts. the reason that kangaroo has it is every few hundreds of years, the microchip (yes, the microchip is thousands of years old, i mean, it was made by the creator(s) of the universe, if they can make a universe, they can make a damn microchip. duh!) it is transferred to a special animal, always different, who keeps it for a few hundred years, along with one human who has to guard the animal. it exists hidden until mankind can get thier shit together and prove that they can handle the truth about everything.

so we track down the kangaroo and monica was so happy and impressed with me, she invited me up to her apartment and we had crazy sex, right there in front of the kangaroo, which was cool cause i've never done it with a hot looking 300 year old chick from australia while her kangaroo watched.

but anyway, after all that crap happened, i finally got the complete star wars set on dvd, so it turned out to be an awesome day. KICK ASS!

post 100: my epic adventure

it's 1750 hours, friday evening, listening to the "hunky dory" album by David Bowie, we returned from mountain climbing, this is my 100th post, i'm not quite drunk, i will be by the end of this though, probably.

so...K says "hey, let's go camping."  i see her suggestion and raise her with "hey, lets climb a 14er." i decide on an "easy" one, we just have to walk up it.  no gear, no ropes, everyone does it.  she agrees and it's on.

it begins with quickly and badly packing, and a half assed plan, hastily and sloppily writing directions, and we go.  "where will we camp?" she asked.  "eh, we'll find something" i assured her.  we drive on down to Ouray,   i have a vague place in mind, we end up at a KOA.  what the fuck???   it costs $32.50 to put up a tent.  you gotta be fucking kidding me.  oh well, ok, we do have nice facilities, so we set up camp.  i have "camping food," ramen and cereal bars, but we say "lets get hot dogs and wine!" so we go to town.  get a tasty bottle of red and ask where we can buy groceries.  turns out, the one and only grocery store in Ouray closes at 6 pm, but there is a liquor/convenience store just up the street.

we go in, no hot dogs.  they have lunch meat and bacon, no hot dogs.  call the KOA store and see if they have hot dogs, alas, no, only lunch meat and bacon.  WHAT THE FUCK???  we are at the epicenter of the great hot dog drought of 2012.  it's like a bad joke, no hotdogs, only lunch meat and bacon .

we drive to Ridgeway, the next town over, stop in a convenience store, lunch meat and bacon, no hot dogs.   go to the family dollar, same story.   this is now a mission.   Norwegians will compose great epic saga poems about our quest to find hot dogs and years from now, these saga poems will be passed on orally and through song.

we finally find a grocery store and get hot dogs and a can of chili.

back at camp we make and eat chili dogs and wash them down with wine.  we are ready to tackle a 14,000 foot mountain.

next day we wake up, drive to where our mountain climbing base is, and embark.  but first, we each make a stop in the most vile outhouse ever.  this is seriously a portal to hell itself.  sitting there my eyes were watering and burning, and i almost vomited twice.  i had to fight to not vomit.  it was absolutely horrible.

we start walking, and come to a little lake, which i vaguely remember.  looks like the trail goes to the left, so we climb, and it's rocky and arduous and there is barely a trace of trail.  i explain it's like this all the way to the top, from what i remember quickly reading the directions of the climb.  we climb for about 15 minutes and stop to rest, look around, and see what looks like a trail on the mountain across from us.  yup, we are on the wrong mountain.

we climb down, walk all the way over the other mountain, and start to climb.  it gets rocky and arduous but there are people coming down the mountain and going up, so yeah, we are on the right mountain.  we make it most of the way up, scrabbling, clutching to the side of the mountain.  without trekking poles, we can't really get up the scree, we go up the boulders and boulder our way up, but we are tired, and it turns out, we don't much like heights, and it gets super steep.  there will be crying and cursing soon, especially if i suggest we push on further.  tired and slightly hypoxic, we both decide it's best to just say fuck it and go back down to our car and finish the bottle of wine.

we do that.  at the car, we are sunburnt,  tired, but happy and laughing.  we both had a kick ass time every moment of the trip.  it was awesome and we laughed and joked and got some kick ass pictures.  it was beautiful, the weather was spectacular, the views were spectacular, we will probably try it again next year, with trekking poles.

it's nice to be home.  my legs are tired, i have to work tomorrow, i had a great few days off.  life is good.

now i shall proceed to get drunk.  tomorrow i again begin the "weight loss get healthy and fit" routine.

email to chaos and pain

hey fucko,

i don't know what kind of shit you are trying to pull over at Chaos and pain , but i have some problems with you.

first off, i want my money back.  i ordered one of your "hooligan" shirts, and it doesn't work.  the picture on your blog clearly implies that shirt will make me look jacked and buffed, but it doesn't.  i just look like a fat guy with small fat arms in a t-shirt.   also, i wore it to the gym, and it didn't do shit, it's broke or something.  it was supposed to make me stronger and help me lift huge weight.  WRONG! i nearly killed myself trying to bench almost 140 lbs.   either way, it doesn't work, it was false advertising, and i want my goddamn money back.

second, in one of your posts, you talk about eating five pounds of chicken wings for breakfast.  what the fuck kind of advice is that?  not only did all i get is a huge stomach ache, you motherfucker, you should be glad i don't sue your ass for punitive damages to cover the cost of repairs i had to do to my toilet, not to mention the mental and physical trauma of shitting five fucking pounds of chicken wings with hot sauce, you son of a bitch.  much like your broken fucked up "hooligan" shirt, eating those five pounds of chicken wings didn't do shit to help me lift and din't make me stronger.  again i almost killed myself trying to put up more weight than i'm used to, and i think you are just full of shit.

i think you are an asshole, and i swear i'm gonna stop reading your stupid blog.  please return my money, and fuck you, i'm keeping your broken shitty shirt.*


*in the unlikely event anyone actually reads this, this is a joke.

my girlfriend (who actually did buy the shirt, it's pretty fucking sweet and now i want one) and I were joking one day how the shirt didn't make her any stronger at the gym, and we joked about how i should write a bunch of letters complaining how the shirt didn't make me look like the pic on the blog and how i'm not getting any stronger and how i want my money back for the shirt that didn't work.  Jamie, the guy who writes the blog, would be confused and all "who is this guy? he didn't even buy a shirt?" and it would be sort of funny to keep sending him angry emails, apparently from some dumb out of shape fat guy who doesn't understand working out, about the things he writes.    also, i think it would be funny to start each email with "hey fucko."  it's not gonna happen, so i just wrote two of the letters and combined them here.  it would have been fun to do though, i think, as long as i entertained Jamie and didn't piss him off.

i feel like a rapper. i was cooking and dropped a beet.

it's only 6:00 pm, i'm writing early today.  hooray for me.

didn't really do a damn thing today, went to the bookstore to see the girl, also saw a lot of fat people eating cupcakes and 4,000 lattes.  i got to overhear a woman, not that it was difficult, she was talking quite loud, about some guy being a nazi about rent and this and that.  i looked up, and my eyes caught a woman across from me who also looked up, and we looked at each other as if to say "wow, that is crazy and funny."   we shared a moment.  too bad she was like...60 years old.

cooked beets.  i can't help but feel there is a joke about dropping beets.  don't know how that would work, but i know it's there somewhere.  i should probably devote the rest of my life to nuance-ing  and tweaking and polishing that joke until i have the perfect most hilarious joke in the world about dropping a beet.  by then no one will get that saying and i will die a broken, poor, lonely insane man.  that is probably how i'm gonna die anyway, really, but at least i will also have a hilarious joke about beets!

also cooked chicken wings.  nothing funny about that.

i think i may be coming down with a cold, or getting sick, or whatever.  that isn't cool.  next week we are gonna walk up a 14er, i don't want to be sick for that.

didn't ride today (still might later, although i am tired and feel like i'm getting sick, so there is that).  tomorrow i go to the gym to get huge, and tomorrow night there is a ride happening that i want to go on, not sure if i should, not sure i will be able to hang with the others.  fuck i hope i'm not getting sick.

i need to do shit to be more creative.  i don't know what that shit is, but i need to do it.  i did break down and submit my crap to the online thing and they are gonna use it, so there is that.  they asked if i wanted to do it regularly, i laughed.  i may submit again, but i don't want them to get used to it.

i'm all discombobulated, and i like the word "cockelburr."  

i'm done here.

a story idea

a woman - so madly deeply in love with a guy, will do ANYTHING for his love....

the man - hates the woman, feels hounded by her, HATES her.....

another man - completely in love with the woman and JEALOUS that she loves the jerk guy soooo much when she could have her love returned in triple if she would only love him instead...

the third guy, jealous guy, plots to "Get rid" of the first guy, maybe cuts his brake cable on the car, but realizes the woman is with him in the car and is in danger, tries to stop them, they all die...

thier feelings are SOOOO strong, alone maybe nothing, but all three feeding off each other, gather energy and momentum, like a tornado, and each emotion becomes tangible, takes a human form...

so there are three human/spirits...one who is total love, one who is total hatred, and one who is total tragic jealousy...they go around and cause havoc in regular humans...that's about as far as i've thought it out. 

anyway...it's fucking hot as satan's balls.  and windy too, so i got that going for me.  nature pretty much is sucking right now.  i've been feeling extra testy lately, like there is a sense of impending doom or something, like something is bothering me and i don't know what it is, my subconscious seems to be pretty alert to it though and has me on edge.

things just seem out of whack.  i don't know what to do about it.

gonna go out and visit landon, poor fella, broke his ankle and is all bummed out.

i want to write more, but no time now, and i'm just too fucking sweaty and hot.  fuck i hope things get better.