The other day my AC went out in my car...hooray. Actually it was the fan for the blower, so technically the AC is working, it's just that there is nothing to blow it into the car. The theory is that something crawled into it and died, like a mouse, a rock or a small dinosaur. I also have a theory that it was either "the man" or alien robots, but I'm still working on proof. Anyway, I'm pretty pissed because my car isn't old enough for things like that to die. I'll never forget where I was the day the fan died. I was in my car...on the way to Target which is about 5 minutes from my house (that might come in handy if you are trying to stalk me). Anyway about 1 minute into the drive it died. I tried everything to get it to work. I tried turning on and off the blower about 27 times. I tried it with the AC button on and off. For some reason I even tried it with the radio turned down...none of that worked. About 2 minutes into the drive I looked like I had been running laps in a sauna. I don't mean to brag, it's just that I'm pretty good at sweating.
So the other day I decided to take a look at it and see if I couldn't some how fix it. I grabbed my tool box, a heavy blanket, and one of those hangy light things (I also made a sandwich). I put on a pair of of old work jeans and found an even older t-shirt. I then checked myself in the mirror and realized I looked like a real stud. Like I should be a model in the Sears catalogue. I then took a little greasy and rubbed it on my jeans and shirt...even studlier. I pulled the trailblazer into the garage and after some light reading in the manual I even figured out how to pop the hood. I hung the hangy lamp from the hood, laid the blanket on the side panel and put the tool box on top of that so it wouldn't scratch the paint job...I've seen it done in the movies. Upon looking at what the manual referred to as the "engine" I realized I had no idea where the fan for the AC might be. I blame it on lousy American engineering and not my lack of knowledge. If they were going to make such a lousy fan for my AC they could of at least had the decency to clearly label it so that I could find it. So logically I tried the next step in fixing anything that is broken, I swore at it. Oh I used all the big 4 letter words I could, still nothing worked. I then wanted to kick it but realized that kicking my car might put a dent in it, so instead I kicked the lawn mower...so tomorrow I'll be picking up parts for the lawnmower.
Long, slightly boring story short, I never did figure out how to fix it. I did however learn that if I go over 70 mph that wind blows through the vents on it's own and a small amount of air conditioning comes through. Luckily it's summer and I dont' really have to worry about school zones although that school for the deaf seems to be in session...but they should be used to using their eyes as much as possible right?
Monday, June 21, 2010
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Dear Diary
I have a crap ton of blogs that I never post so I think I'm going to go through and post some of them that aren't ridiculously retarded...here's one.
This weekend (and then some) I am dog sitting my brother's dogs while he and his wife are out gallivanting in Las Vegas. You could say I am a dog person. I don't really understand the rationalization of having a dog or why it is that we humans enjoy having dogs but I do like dogs. I like dogs more than I like people. They don't say a lot and they like playing tug o' war. From childhood until I was able to drive I spent most of my time exploring the backwoods of Lindengrove in Northern Minnesota with my dog Grover. We'd chase rabbits, eat berries and do other dog/boy activities. He'd walk with me to the end of the driveway and we'd wait for the school bus to come get me in the morning. When the bus arrived I'd cross the road, get in the bus and watch out the window as he trotted up the driveway. I never had to teach him not to chase cars or to not follow me on the bus, he just knew. And after a long day of school the bus would pull up to my house and there would be Grover waiting for me. Not one time in the entire 10 years I road the school bus did he not meet me at the end of the driveway. On cold snowy nights he'd accompany me as I'd walk over to the hunting shack to play cards with the grown ups. He loved going over to the shack for the same reasons I did. There was a lot of food and a lot of people to play with. I spent 90% of my day outside as there was nothing else to do and he was there by my side for every minute of it. We built snow forts, dug holes in the garden,and chased the Schwan Man every time he came up the driveway. We'd go play by the pond, he'd swim and I'd throw rocks. Later we moved to town while our "New" house in Angora was being built. I didn't have the heart to put him on a leash so I let him run free. He never chased cars but frequently was found exploring the city. He never got lost even though he was at a new house, wouldn't even think of hurting a person, and the neighborhood kids were amazed with the fact that he would eat absolutely anything you told him to. One day we decided to try bring Grover out to the new house in Angora. Once there he wasn't leaving and we couldn't get him to come back with us to town. When we came back the next day he met us on the driveway like he had been there his entire life. He really was the perfect dog. Friends, Family, ...to me they came and went rapidly...but Grover was always there. Grover must of been about 14 when he died and I can remember it like it was yesterday. He started getting sick and sore and one day I came outside and he wasn't there waiting for me. I looked at the parking lot and he was laying on his belly with his tail wagging. I called to him and he wagged it harder and tried to stand up but fell back down. So I walked over there and put him on his feet and he was able to walk with me. The vet came and gave him some pills saying that it might only be arthritis but I knew that after 14 years if he didn't meet me at the door that there was something else that was wrong. I started keeping him inside, in my room so that he wouldn't be cold. It wasn't possible for me to get him in the house before, but now he seemed to accept it. Then one day I came home from school and he was over in the side of the yard laying in a pile of green ooze. I was so sad but he was still alive so I cleaned him up and called the vet. He said he would come the next day at noon and look at him. I carried him to the house and fed him some water and some beef jerky. That night he laid at my side while I played video games and we both fell asleep on the floor. The next day I got up for school and Grover was able to walk outside. I went to school and came back home during lunch to meet the Vet. When I got home I noticed that he wasn't in the yard and he wasn't responding to my calls. I ran through he woods looking for him and I found him miraculously about 200 yards from the house. He looked up at me and wagged his tail and I just sat with him holding him on my lap as I pet him. I remember talking to him and commenting on how his hair was falling out. I was feeling pretty sad and I finally said, "it's OK if you need to die" and then he started convulsing and I tried to sooth him...he then stopped and I sat there petting him for a good 5 minutes until I realized he had died. I just left him there...called the vet, told him not to come. Called my dad and told him where he was, and then I went back to school.
I was sad but I knew life moved on. Soon afterwards my friends Sarah and Shelly randomly bought me a new dog...which I immediately named Homer. Homer is just as nice as Grover but gets himself into a lot more mischief. May be someday I'll write about him as well. Also I'll have to write about Baxter and Chauncey, the two dogs I am watching this very minute...They are good dogs and we have had a few adventures already. Mostly though they are more like cats and they just lie around the house almost annoyed if I get in their way. Still they have their charms. Anyway I didn't intend on writing a sob story about my dog dieing 10 years ago...so just know that I got over it.
This weekend (and then some) I am dog sitting my brother's dogs while he and his wife are out gallivanting in Las Vegas. You could say I am a dog person. I don't really understand the rationalization of having a dog or why it is that we humans enjoy having dogs but I do like dogs. I like dogs more than I like people. They don't say a lot and they like playing tug o' war. From childhood until I was able to drive I spent most of my time exploring the backwoods of Lindengrove in Northern Minnesota with my dog Grover. We'd chase rabbits, eat berries and do other dog/boy activities. He'd walk with me to the end of the driveway and we'd wait for the school bus to come get me in the morning. When the bus arrived I'd cross the road, get in the bus and watch out the window as he trotted up the driveway. I never had to teach him not to chase cars or to not follow me on the bus, he just knew. And after a long day of school the bus would pull up to my house and there would be Grover waiting for me. Not one time in the entire 10 years I road the school bus did he not meet me at the end of the driveway. On cold snowy nights he'd accompany me as I'd walk over to the hunting shack to play cards with the grown ups. He loved going over to the shack for the same reasons I did. There was a lot of food and a lot of people to play with. I spent 90% of my day outside as there was nothing else to do and he was there by my side for every minute of it. We built snow forts, dug holes in the garden,and chased the Schwan Man every time he came up the driveway. We'd go play by the pond, he'd swim and I'd throw rocks. Later we moved to town while our "New" house in Angora was being built. I didn't have the heart to put him on a leash so I let him run free. He never chased cars but frequently was found exploring the city. He never got lost even though he was at a new house, wouldn't even think of hurting a person, and the neighborhood kids were amazed with the fact that he would eat absolutely anything you told him to. One day we decided to try bring Grover out to the new house in Angora. Once there he wasn't leaving and we couldn't get him to come back with us to town. When we came back the next day he met us on the driveway like he had been there his entire life. He really was the perfect dog. Friends, Family, ...to me they came and went rapidly...but Grover was always there. Grover must of been about 14 when he died and I can remember it like it was yesterday. He started getting sick and sore and one day I came outside and he wasn't there waiting for me. I looked at the parking lot and he was laying on his belly with his tail wagging. I called to him and he wagged it harder and tried to stand up but fell back down. So I walked over there and put him on his feet and he was able to walk with me. The vet came and gave him some pills saying that it might only be arthritis but I knew that after 14 years if he didn't meet me at the door that there was something else that was wrong. I started keeping him inside, in my room so that he wouldn't be cold. It wasn't possible for me to get him in the house before, but now he seemed to accept it. Then one day I came home from school and he was over in the side of the yard laying in a pile of green ooze. I was so sad but he was still alive so I cleaned him up and called the vet. He said he would come the next day at noon and look at him. I carried him to the house and fed him some water and some beef jerky. That night he laid at my side while I played video games and we both fell asleep on the floor. The next day I got up for school and Grover was able to walk outside. I went to school and came back home during lunch to meet the Vet. When I got home I noticed that he wasn't in the yard and he wasn't responding to my calls. I ran through he woods looking for him and I found him miraculously about 200 yards from the house. He looked up at me and wagged his tail and I just sat with him holding him on my lap as I pet him. I remember talking to him and commenting on how his hair was falling out. I was feeling pretty sad and I finally said, "it's OK if you need to die" and then he started convulsing and I tried to sooth him...he then stopped and I sat there petting him for a good 5 minutes until I realized he had died. I just left him there...called the vet, told him not to come. Called my dad and told him where he was, and then I went back to school.
I was sad but I knew life moved on. Soon afterwards my friends Sarah and Shelly randomly bought me a new dog...which I immediately named Homer. Homer is just as nice as Grover but gets himself into a lot more mischief. May be someday I'll write about him as well. Also I'll have to write about Baxter and Chauncey, the two dogs I am watching this very minute...They are good dogs and we have had a few adventures already. Mostly though they are more like cats and they just lie around the house almost annoyed if I get in their way. Still they have their charms. Anyway I didn't intend on writing a sob story about my dog dieing 10 years ago...so just know that I got over it.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Most over rated job of all time: Superhero
When I was a younger man I used to dream of the day when my super powers would fully develop. Now that I am wiser I am glad I decided to not pursue the life of a super hero. Let's face it...being a super hero is a shit ass job. First of all it pays nothing. Any good Superhero worth their cape and tights won't take hand outs. And it's not like you can just run around robbing banks either...I don't think people like that. Unless you're giving it back to the people but that pretty much negates the entire reason for robbing the bank in the first place. I guess you could try to market yourself but then you're really no better than Paris Hilton or some other talentless ass clown. That means you have to get a job. A real job. And it's not going to be some high class easy ass job either. You're going to have to leave all the time which means you're going to get fired a lot. Which means you're not going to have that great of job. Let's say you're a big CEO and there is an important meeting and you're preparing and just about ready to make a move that will revolutionize the industry when you hear a bus full of babies crying in the distance. What do you do? Do you just let the bus full of babies die? Or do you screw up the big meeting? If you leave the babies everyone is going to be all, "Where is Super Derek (still working on the name)?" They'll start getting pissed that you didn't save the babies and no matter what you do after that they'll just be, "Well I guess he saved the world today but where was he when the babies died?" or, "What does he have against babies? Does he hate children?" You can't save everyone and that means people are going to be pissed. So basically you'll just be working dead end jobs. Probably at McDonald's or Target. And the worst part is that they'll expect you to do extra work...I mean what good is having a super hero working for you if he doesn't do super work?
Then there is the obvious danger to your friends and family. There's always the super villain that will use them against you since you yourself are invulnerable. That's what super villains do because I've seen it in movies. Plus can you really have friends if they know you're a super hero? Every time they move, every time they need something real quick, every time they need anything they'll call on you. And the one damn time you don't show up they'll resent you for it. Plus they're not really going to want to just hang out. You can't play sports with your bros, it'll just make them jealous. Basically they'll get drunk and make you do party tricks. And forget about a love life. Sure it'll be easy to get dates but you'll never know if you've found someone who loves you or loves your job...of course that doesn't seem to bother basketball players.
Then there is the whole being a superhero. Super powers are way over rated. Flying? What a pain in the ass. Bugs in your teeth, you're hairs always messed up, and you'll probably get attacked by birds. Birds are bitches. I'll travel by car thank you. Invisibility? What good is that really? Oh you can't be seen? Welcome to high school. The only thing it's good for is hanging out in the locker room being a perve and you can see that shit on the Internet already. Super speed? So you're everyone's bitch now? You have to be everywhere on time? What's the rush?
So yeah. That's why I chose to not be a super hero. It's a lot of work. No pay. Everyone says they like you until you don't help them out then they hate you....yep I'll just keep reading medical transcription...that's where the excitement is at. I get to press the buttons on my keyboard a lot and it makes this lovely little clicking sound...just can't get job perks like that being a super hero...but may be there is something to being a super villain?
Then there is the obvious danger to your friends and family. There's always the super villain that will use them against you since you yourself are invulnerable. That's what super villains do because I've seen it in movies. Plus can you really have friends if they know you're a super hero? Every time they move, every time they need something real quick, every time they need anything they'll call on you. And the one damn time you don't show up they'll resent you for it. Plus they're not really going to want to just hang out. You can't play sports with your bros, it'll just make them jealous. Basically they'll get drunk and make you do party tricks. And forget about a love life. Sure it'll be easy to get dates but you'll never know if you've found someone who loves you or loves your job...of course that doesn't seem to bother basketball players.
Then there is the whole being a superhero. Super powers are way over rated. Flying? What a pain in the ass. Bugs in your teeth, you're hairs always messed up, and you'll probably get attacked by birds. Birds are bitches. I'll travel by car thank you. Invisibility? What good is that really? Oh you can't be seen? Welcome to high school. The only thing it's good for is hanging out in the locker room being a perve and you can see that shit on the Internet already. Super speed? So you're everyone's bitch now? You have to be everywhere on time? What's the rush?
So yeah. That's why I chose to not be a super hero. It's a lot of work. No pay. Everyone says they like you until you don't help them out then they hate you....yep I'll just keep reading medical transcription...that's where the excitement is at. I get to press the buttons on my keyboard a lot and it makes this lovely little clicking sound...just can't get job perks like that being a super hero...but may be there is something to being a super villain?
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Things I'm going to invent...patent pending
I'm about to reveal something that I usually try to hide from the world. I have a slight chapstick addiction. I know the world sees me as a lumberjack of a man. Traveling the Minnesota woods, eating stacks of pancakes, chopping down trees with a single swoop of my ax, and wrestling with my big blue ox. That's either me or Paul Bunyan...using my head it's actually quite hard to tell the difference. But my lips are sensitive...like a flower made of snowflakes. And yes I've already heard it all before. The lip balm companies secretly inject their applications with lip drying enzymes and minerals...or something like that. And to that I say, "Good on them." Yeah sometimes I go Australian. Anyway I don't care if that's true. I'm willing to admit that possibly, may be, there might be some truth to the argument that if I just stopped using the chapstick, my lips would be able to take care of themselves. But I've tried it...it hurts. For a while I tried just keeping a jar of petroleum jelly by the bed so I could just smear it on at night. It worked good enough but the jar was gigantic and wasn't really portable and I also had a hard time explaining to the people who'd walk in my room for no good reason why I felt the need to have an industrial sized tub of petroleum jelly on my night stand. Lately I've been attempting to use lotion on the old kisser. This has had some positive effect but it doesn't last that long and also kind of tastes terrible.
I don't use the medicated sticks, they smell like medicine and I don't think I'm diseased. Oddly enough I actually dislike the chapstick brand chapstick. Some of them are flavored which just causes me to lick my lips...which causes them to dry out. Also the red one makes it look I've been drinking cherry Kool Aid. No, my brand of choice is Burt's Beeswax the peppermint kind. I like it because it's natural, which means I'm trendy, and also the peppermint makes my lips slightly tingle, which makes me think they won't get dandruff. Tingling means it's working right? An added bonus is that the peppermint smell makes it smell like I brush my teeth...as long as I don't open my mouth.
Anyway my one problem with pretty much every lip balm ever invented (well except for the girly sparkly kinds) is that they come in a cylindrical tube. Which means the instant you drop one or set one down...it rolls away. Do you know how many quarter used Burt's Beeswax tubes I have laying around right now? Me neither! I just know that every time I look under the bed I see that guy that stays under there has the most luscious lips. So my invention is the square lip balm tube. This way if I drop it...it stays put.
I'd also just like to point out that you may think I'm an idiot for writing about lip balm, but I equally find it odd that you just read all of it.
Anyway peace,
D
I don't use the medicated sticks, they smell like medicine and I don't think I'm diseased. Oddly enough I actually dislike the chapstick brand chapstick. Some of them are flavored which just causes me to lick my lips...which causes them to dry out. Also the red one makes it look I've been drinking cherry Kool Aid. No, my brand of choice is Burt's Beeswax the peppermint kind. I like it because it's natural, which means I'm trendy, and also the peppermint makes my lips slightly tingle, which makes me think they won't get dandruff. Tingling means it's working right? An added bonus is that the peppermint smell makes it smell like I brush my teeth...as long as I don't open my mouth.
Anyway my one problem with pretty much every lip balm ever invented (well except for the girly sparkly kinds) is that they come in a cylindrical tube. Which means the instant you drop one or set one down...it rolls away. Do you know how many quarter used Burt's Beeswax tubes I have laying around right now? Me neither! I just know that every time I look under the bed I see that guy that stays under there has the most luscious lips. So my invention is the square lip balm tube. This way if I drop it...it stays put.
I'd also just like to point out that you may think I'm an idiot for writing about lip balm, but I equally find it odd that you just read all of it.
Anyway peace,
D
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