Monday, October 31, 2005

Reaching His Threshold

Well I now know what amount of stimulus it takes to cause my dog to jump from a moving truck. The other day Jeremy and I were driving down a steep hill going around 20-25 miles an hour, when up ahead I see it. The source of stimulus that will cause Charlie to swan dive out of the back of a moving vehicle. Two deer were crossing the road in front of me, and I said out loud. "ohhh Damn"! A quick glance to the rearview mirror I see Charlie up on the side barking as if to call down the thunder of all those leapers who had gone before him. A glance to my side mirror bodes me the view of him leaping as far from the truck as he can, sending the deer steppin and fetchin like their tails were on fire. A glance over my shoulder shows Charlie almost landing on his feet but quickly going to his face, in no time he is on his back sliding at the same speed as the truck. Then over to his feet were he dug his claws into the asphalt for any sort of traction. And once he ground to a stop, he was off after those deer. I called him back and had him get in between Jeremy and only to find that he was fine with some cuts, but visibly still excited about his adventure.
The reason I know this was because as Jeremy put it. "his Charles Mingus is laying on the seat man"!!
Indeed it was, indeed it was.

Friday, October 28, 2005

Waste of time

dig my grave with a silver spade

dig my grave wide and deep

let me see you all there

i can't be left alone

what will i do in this place

no one to tell me i'm important

i'm not scared of anything

don't watch me

dig my grave with a silver spade

Tuesday, October 25, 2005

The Idiot Tax

AHhhhhhhh the lottery. The minds playground as I like to call it. I will admit that I am that guy who pulls the tab on every McDonald's cup and scratch game I come across. For some reason the lure of something for "virtually" nothing is just too great. At the same time it is kinda sad.
Several years ago I was at a board meeting in a large corporation. Granted I was there as a substitute, I had been called in from the bullpen for relief of a lazy manager, but non the less I was there. And since I am smart enough to know that my mouth should and will not open in this meting I really watched these "successful" people closely.
There was a guest speaker who I suppose was there to impart great words of wisdom. Which in a small subtle way she did. There on the table after the food break I noticed that she had a cup with TWO chances to win 1 million dollars. When she was done with the cup she just threw it away. She had seen the game on the cup. I mean crap half the room had looked at their pieces. She wasn't concerned with it. I think that she knew that nothing comes from nothing. If you want it you have to put out effort for it. She also struck me as someone who wanted something on her own merit. She wasn't looking for something for nothing. Because that one ingredient isn't what complete's the person. That pondered me for the longest time.
And last night when I was standing in line at the gas station buying my 1 chance at tons of free money, I thought I probably looked like an idiot when I pulled that cup outta the trash and won nothing.

Thursday, October 20, 2005

My Gas is Low Class

I want to go on record as saying that passing gas is quite possibly the most timeless joke ever. I have to believe that the disciples were sitting around the fire and Jesus was like, "Shhh Shhh did you guys here that?, I think it was the father" PPOOOOOooooooooot. And everyone laughed except Luke, cause there is always one guy who doesn't think it's funny.
But as time has gone on the gas joke has been pushed to the back of the joke rack only pulled out when men find themselves alone or if your lucky in a car full of trapped victims. I bring this up because I believe that I have been "gifted" with the "ability" to drop a well placed bomb at any time. Only to the dismay of my friend Jeremy. I guess the reality is that he has grown past it while I have sadly remained. This was my mind set until I read something of Sams.
He was talking about your faith being childlike. So in the biggest stretch of theology since Mormonism, I believe that God wants my child like jokes to be used to better the kingdom.
But first I must bring Jeremy into the fold. So later I am going to lock him in our office and have an intervention.
Be praying, there is no ventilation in our office. And I ate Mexican for lunch.

Friday, October 14, 2005

Death Chambers for Cutie

I realized the other day that certain machines cause me to think about my mortality.
I was in an elevator and thought I wonder if I could survive a 3 story drop. Then I run through the senerios about my jumping right before impact and surviving. Like I am the exception to the rule of gravity. I am that guy who watches TV and sees an accident and thinks well I would have just done this. The reality is I would go from being 6'7 to 5'4 just like anyone else who feel three story's in a death box.
Then I started thinking about other places I go that make me think, I could die here.
Porta pots
Carnival rides
Subway trains
You know places you may find yourself everyday.
So I'm not sure if I am scared enough yet to avoid these places all together, or just rely on my ability to stop myself from hitting the dash of my car in a head on collision by putting my hands out in front of me.

Thursday, October 13, 2005

Why Farm Animals Scare Me

The truth is, it's not just farm animals. It's all dumb animals, and I mean really dumb.
I think that's why there are some people that really make me nervous to be around. It's not that they are necessarily a huge physical threat as much as they are really unpredictable.
A trait of these types of animals is the BLANK STARE. Like they are not just in another world, but the ruler of that world. And when they do notice you, it's like they are startled by you. This is where my problem lies. I don't think that they are necessarily violent animals, or people. Maybe they are just scared, scared that you, some alien, are so close to them. Now they are cornered, and we all know how a cornered animal will react.
And if you are ever wanting to come to grips with this fear I would suggest not going to a petting zoo with adult animals and a giant paper bag of food. This guarantees a confrontation. And nobody wants to see you punching a goat over a sac of dry corn.
My suggestion is to just stay away.
If they don't come when you whistle. They are dumb.
And that goes for cats.

Monday, October 10, 2005

Damn Women, Feedin' Me Poison!!!

Well I can't really blame it on her... and by not really I mean not at all. At one time in my life I looked at my body, well my stomach anyway, like a tree shredder. You know the one's that they aim into the back of a truck. Everytime you see one and there's someone with you they talk about someone being dragged through it because they caught a sleeve or something. I thought this was a great description of my stomach, because the realities were the same. You come to close and you may be pulled in along with my french fries.
I could have sworn that my pit was cast in iron. Pizza YES, more Pepsi YES, Peppers well heck YES, 20 minutes later you say were having chili. But as my Pepecid AC addicted friend Jeremy likes to say "it burns".
So I now realize that I can't eat molten lava anymore, and I have gotten the message loud and clear from my body. I don't think it's fooling around anymore. Because if the warning shot it fired across my bow in the bathroom was any indication to the future I am in it DEEP brother.
So for me it is now the life of a rabbit who drinks Pepsi. My tree grinder has now been scaled back to an almost fully operational garbage disposal, that needs the water running to really work well.
So a page has turned.
Well bring it on I say, and pass the fat free ranch, this stuff tastes like CRAP!

Friday, October 07, 2005

A Dogs Life (A morning in the life of Charlie)

What is this!?
My neither region hasn't been cleaned in at least 20 minutes I need to get on that.
hallway.. hallway.. hallway.. bedroom.. bed..
ahhh you lazy bastard get up! get up I tell you. If he doesn't get up now I swear I will pee directly in his...
OoHHH hey buddy your up ! Yeah it's me it's me it's me hey hey heyheyheyyehe no nononononnon AHHHHhhhh shit he's out. bed.. bedroom.. spin.. spin.. spin.. floor
Ohh my neither region. Hello there buddy where have you been.

Wednesday, October 05, 2005

Breaking the Habit

I am going to get my sorry butt outta bed. I have been struggling with not finding the time to be creative just on my own. I was afraid of it interrupting time with my family which is very important to me. So my wise friend Jeremy kindly told me I was a giant doosh bag, and I needed to just stop being a sissy and get myself outta bed earlier.
I was like "you did read if sleeping were a sport right"? Again he was unditered in his slander. "DO IT".
So without any help from anyone else I decided to get up early in the morning and have some creative time to myself. I am not unreasonable, I realize the first few days will be pretty much me staring off into nowhere land, but with any hope I will break the life long habit of sleep.
Next Jeremy will want me to give up oxygen.
"But I need it to live". "DO IT"

Tuesday, October 04, 2005


I have the strangest feeling that my brain cells are somehow throwing themselves down on sharp things. My memory has progressively gotten worse. It never was razor sharp, but now it’s barley a dull edge. The thing that has becomeapparentt is that the part of my brain responsible for names and phone numbers, has been used as a trampoline by the rest of the brain cells. I have always excepted that, kind a embraced it in a way. Making light of the fact that you just introduced yourself to me and in the midst of the words leaving your mouth they have been forgotten. Then the cat and mouse begins. I call you “man”, “bro”, “dude”, or just say "whats up” when I see you.
But lately my mind has gone to forgetting things that I really know. Like how to pee. Not really but you get the idea. I can’t tell if it’s that I am getting older or if I just think about too much at once and lose everything by doing it. Whatever the reason it’s worrying me. So if you see a 6’7 guy standing on a corner with half his face shaved and a confused look, please stop your car, check my wrist band and take me home to my wife.
OK so I did forget how to pee.