After the rousing success of the first requested blog I decided to continue...
Growing up in the woods in Linden Grove I didn't really have much of a reason to learn Spanish. My dog didn't really care what language I spoke as long as I scratched his ears and gave him my left overs. Most of the imaginary friends I had didn't talk to me at all. The only foriegn culture I had was from the Canadian Channel and as far as I could tell they were just like me...smelled like maple syrup and a fresh cut ax. I'm not sure I even knew there was such thing as Spanish, except may be for the Speedy Gonzales cartoons, which as far as I can tell is a rather accurate portrayal of your average Mexican mouse. Besides that my dad would sometimes refer to "Metsaco" which for years I thought was a company owned by the Metsas who lived in the area.
When I was in high school I had to take a Spanish Class and I think my only thought about it was, "Why the heck do I need to know Spanish?!!?" Warp ahead 10 years and I'm obviously dating a man straight out of Mexico...it was during this time I instantly regretted not knowing how to say anything in Spanish besides, "Where is the library?" This summer while I slaved away at Vermilion Houseboats I decided to enrich my mind by teaching myself Spanish. And let me tell you...it's not really all that easy. How do you teach yourself something you don't even know? It's a perplexing idea. Sure...after a few weeks I could repeat the audio books I had downloaded...I can count...I can say simple things...but as soon as someone who grew up speaking Spanish starts talking I might as well be licking my drool off the window of the short bus. It's hard to learn Spanish when you really have nobody around you at any time who will speak Spanish with you...hell most of the guys I hang out with barely speak English. Every once in a while I'd speak with some of my Spanish speaking friends on Skype or by phone but I quickly realized they were about as adept at teaching Spanish as I was.
I really wanted to buy the Rosetta Stone program but I just could not justify the $600 price tag. I could never actually find anyone who had bought and used the program but always heard something like, "Oh my friend's friend bought it and it worked really well for him...also he was taking classes." I kind of feel like it's so much money that people just lie about it working so that they don't look like an idiot for buying it. Kind of like the people who fall for those scams where you spend in $200 bucks to get a plaque saying how smart you are. Anyway I tried going to the local library to see if they had such a program to either use at their facility or to borrow. The hardest part was getting to the Library during it's business hours. They seem to be open every other Tuesday from 3-3:30. Once inside I asked the librarian if they had such a program and she just looked at me like I was a moron for even considering they would have such a thing. After asking if they had any language learning software she directed me to the "Computer learning" section which consisted of such titles as, "Email for Dummies" and the manual for Windows 98.
So instead of spending $600+ on a program that was not guaranteed to work I cobbled together my own programs. I found a few great websites that helped. http://www.busuu.com/ http://www.studyspanish.com/ Both of which are free but try to get you buy more. Also http://quizlet.com/ is a great site for making your own flash cards. They will even have a realistic Spanish speaker say the words in Spanish for you. Besides that I downloaded the audio book Spanish for Dummies. I also bought the program call Spanish Immersion which had multiple discs with varying effectiveness. I then found a few ebooks that are free to download which really helped my reading and recollection. And supplemented all that with a few Apps. Jibbigo is a great program you can just talk into and it translates and doesn't need the internet. Spanishtt is a nice little learning tool and byki was also pretty good. I also downloaded a Spanish Slang app which was fun for learning a few slang terms and sayings. All in all I spent under 100$ and I think it was really a much better program than anything out there.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
As Requested: Manscaping
I recently implored you, the public, to suggest idea(r)s for new blog posts. I need to think of a clever title for this blog on request...then I need to think of a not so clever title I will actually use. You give me a topic and I'll write about it, that way we both feel like we did something today with our lonely little pathetic lives.
So today's request comes from my buddy Rex who wants me to write about manscaping. Lucky for Rex I'm kind of a know it all so I'd be happy to write extensively on the subject.
For those of you not in the know "manscaping" is the clever word pun that basically refers to a man's grooming, but doesn't just have to be done by Mexicans (racism is the best!). It mostly is used in reference to shaving one's special, bad touch areas but can also encompass grooming of any hair. I for one am all for Manscaping.. Listen fellas, nobody wants to get with a one eyebrowed, disheveled wilder-beast. I really don't need to see any canopies walking around the beach either. Trim that tumble weed...it's really quite freeing. I'm not saying you shave it smooth... nobody wants a school zone down there. Things need to be done in moderation. Besides that really itches.
If you're worried that it's not "manly" to shave Kool and the Gang then I really have only one piece of advice for you...stop being a wuss. There is nothing less manly then worrying so much about what makes you manly or not. I've seen some dudes in a dress that are twice as manly as me...scary as hell though. Besides it's not really all that difficult to trim a little...takes about five seconds once a week. If you need to feel like a man, go break something and put it back together incorrectly, or just drive around and not ask for directions...Only you can prevent forest fires!
So today's request comes from my buddy Rex who wants me to write about manscaping. Lucky for Rex I'm kind of a know it all so I'd be happy to write extensively on the subject.
For those of you not in the know "manscaping" is the clever word pun that basically refers to a man's grooming, but doesn't just have to be done by Mexicans (racism is the best!). It mostly is used in reference to shaving one's special, bad touch areas but can also encompass grooming of any hair. I for one am all for Manscaping.. Listen fellas, nobody wants to get with a one eyebrowed, disheveled wilder-beast. I really don't need to see any canopies walking around the beach either. Trim that tumble weed...it's really quite freeing. I'm not saying you shave it smooth... nobody wants a school zone down there. Things need to be done in moderation. Besides that really itches.
If you're worried that it's not "manly" to shave Kool and the Gang then I really have only one piece of advice for you...stop being a wuss. There is nothing less manly then worrying so much about what makes you manly or not. I've seen some dudes in a dress that are twice as manly as me...scary as hell though. Besides it's not really all that difficult to trim a little...takes about five seconds once a week. If you need to feel like a man, go break something and put it back together incorrectly, or just drive around and not ask for directions...Only you can prevent forest fires!
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
I used to be so damn funny
Finally a few helpful hints for when you are listening on the phone.
1. If you find yourself not paying attention and the person you are talking with catches you, just say you were going through a tunnel.
2. End each sentance with either "niner" or "over." And start each sentance with "banana."
3. Answer the phone scream "Caaaaptaaaaaiiiiin Caaaaaaveeeeemaaaaan!" and then hang up.
4. Call someone and then ask them "So where are you at?" (This doesn't work as well if you are calling their cell phone)
5. If someone you don't want to talk to calls you just tell them that your phone doesn't work.
6. Call someone and when they pick up just keep dialing numbers. Once the people catch on tell them to hold on because you are doing your taxes and ask if they know where the "+" sign is.
7. Get a friend and ask them to make prank phone calls with you. Then call someone and once they answer pull down your pants and moon the phone...then hang up and start laughing...then no matter what your friend says say "You're just mad because you didn't think of it."
8. Answer the phone and say "How many times do I have to tell you that I won't accept a collect call from Georgie Porgie." Then hang up.
9. Start dialing random numbers and try selling things that you don't use and are just lieing around the house.
10. For you answering machine message leave a busy signal.
11. Call someone and ask them if their phone smells like feet.
12. Next time someone calls and asks you to switch long distance plans tell them you already have a set of encylopedias.
13. Call the operator and ask if they have done any surgeries today...then laugh uncontrollably
14. Carry your cordless phone around with you and insist on telling people that it is your mobile phone.
15. Call a random number and order 6 tacos and 5 corndogs, with a side of meatballs, then say there is an extra fiver if you get it here in 15 minutes.
16. Phones just aren't really all that fun.
i have writers block!
So waaaaaaaaaay back when I got my first computer and I was at my old 24k speed modem I had a webpage called...www.users.uswest.net/~bige52...Today I decided to go back and read some of the things I wrote. The very first thing I ever made was a wacky page with a bright red background and green font that was just a scanned picture of Joel Pryzbilla, and me talking about how I wanted the same basketball shoes. But then I also had this list of things which I called "Number 1s" because Letterman had a top 10 but mine were all number one. Here is the first one I wrote and I think it's pretty damn funny for a 17 year old!
Things to do in/on the airport/airplane
1. Ask the guy next to you if he could hold on to your bowling ball candle while he is on the plane.
2. Try starting the wave.
3. While waiting for the plane keep winking at the pay phone, and say "I see ya baby."
4. If you are asked what seat number you have say "the nosebleed section" then laugh three and a half times.
5. Get on the plane last, and when you walk down the row give everyone high fives.
6. Try to get everyone line dancing.
7. Stand up on the plane and ask if anyone has seen your pet snake. Then say that he's probably chasing your pet rat.
8. When they ask you if you want something to drink say "No thanks. I'm a vegetarian."
9. Sit in the isle and say to the person near the window "Hey it's a little stuffy in here, do you think you could open the window for a little bit?" Then no matter what they say respond with 'Hey, no need to get snippy about it."
10. Always wear a snorkel when you're on the plane.
11. Ask the flight attendant for a doggy bag for your barf bag.
12. As soon as you get on the plane start grabbing all the pillows you can find, and try to make a fort
13. Keep calling the flight attendant "waitress" and the person next to you "Joe".
14. Every 7 minutes scream out DA DA DA DA DADA CHARGE!!!!
15. Say to the guy next to you "Man, this is the strangest train I've ever been on!"
16. If there is a woman next to you say "I sure hope the movie is a porno"...and start singing some kind of porno music.
17. When you get on the plane sign as loud as you can "I believe I can fly, I believe the can touch the sky..."
18. Keep insisting that you smell jet fuel.
19. Keep repeating out loud "The planes in Spain fall mainly while it rains."
1. Ask the guy next to you if he could hold on to your bowling ball candle while he is on the plane.
2. Try starting the wave.
3. While waiting for the plane keep winking at the pay phone, and say "I see ya baby."
4. If you are asked what seat number you have say "the nosebleed section" then laugh three and a half times.
5. Get on the plane last, and when you walk down the row give everyone high fives.
6. Try to get everyone line dancing.
7. Stand up on the plane and ask if anyone has seen your pet snake. Then say that he's probably chasing your pet rat.
8. When they ask you if you want something to drink say "No thanks. I'm a vegetarian."
9. Sit in the isle and say to the person near the window "Hey it's a little stuffy in here, do you think you could open the window for a little bit?" Then no matter what they say respond with 'Hey, no need to get snippy about it."
10. Always wear a snorkel when you're on the plane.
11. Ask the flight attendant for a doggy bag for your barf bag.
12. As soon as you get on the plane start grabbing all the pillows you can find, and try to make a fort
13. Keep calling the flight attendant "waitress" and the person next to you "Joe".
14. Every 7 minutes scream out DA DA DA DA DADA CHARGE!!!!
15. Say to the guy next to you "Man, this is the strangest train I've ever been on!"
16. If there is a woman next to you say "I sure hope the movie is a porno"...and start singing some kind of porno music.
17. When you get on the plane sign as loud as you can "I believe I can fly, I believe the can touch the sky..."
18. Keep insisting that you smell jet fuel.
19. Keep repeating out loud "The planes in Spain fall mainly while it rains."
Friday, September 9, 2011
Should I try to write again?
I think I might try to start writing for the paper again. Although I'm not even sure they would have me. I definitely have a unique perspective on life that I think others in the area need to hear. Being a gay man, one who was “known” in the area I feel my voice still has some weight. But my thoughts of writing do not come without reservations. I am not scared to say what I think. I'm not fearful of being harmed for writing about being a gay man in Northern Minnesota. I have no fear of being ostracized in the community. Oh I'm sure there will be a lot of gossip, but that's nothing new. I'm sure it will be just like before, some people will love me, others will hate me quietly. My main concern is that my father will still be here. Where as before he was so proud to read my articles and hear others talk about it, I'm not sure he will feel the same way about what I want to say now. Then again he will most likely deal with it in his midwest manner of just ignoring that it exists and going about his day as usual.
But I have a lot to say. Especially since next year the state of Minnesota will be voting on whether to deny gays the right to marry. Not only do I have a lot to say about being gay but I also have much to say about the community. It is dieing...slowly. It is sad to see and there are so many resistant to change. Someone has to speak up. We need jobs, we need education, and we need an open mind. Eh...may be it's not a great idea that I write for the paper, I feel like I'd be writing looking to start a fight.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Here's the problem...
Ok i don't know what the problem is but damned if I don't have all the answers. Today is my day off from work. I really don't know what to do with myself on my days off. I have a hard enough time trying to be sane for the 30 minutes each workday I have to myself...let alone an entire day!!?!??! It's too much...i can't handle it. Everything I do I feel like I should be doing something else. Last time I had a day off I drove to work and studied and did laundry...and ended up doing work for free...and I prefer that to this!
Today I cleaned up my dads house a little and chatted with him...it shouldn't be hard to talk with your father but maaaaaaan...ugh. He's always loved to tell me the story about how when my mom first had cancer and started treatment, she found out she was pregnant with me...how the doctor said I was a miracle...and how I was the only baby to make it..blah blah blah. It really is a nice story if you hear it...the problem is that I really can't believe any story he tells anymore so who knows...for all I know they found me in a trash can at Hardee's and decided to keep me (pleeeease let this be true). Anyway since he found out I'm off the vagina this story has taken a new twist and therefor has moved up on his list of stories. So now I hear about Homer the wonder dog, how my highschool math teacher Mrs. Bidle told him i was so smart (which probably went something like, "Derek is really smart...but he refuses to do his homework.) and now how I was hooked up to a million tubes and wires as a baby and how he was mad about it but the nun told him it was ok because I was the only one to be able to hold a bottle...(i was always a really good eater so that's probably true). But then he says, "Yeah the doctor said you could have changes later in life...I don't know what he meant by that." Aka "It's ok your gay..." I love the guy but...he's crazy as a loon.
Anyway like I said I've been working a lot. I work at work...i eat at work...i sleep at work...I take my days off at work...I dream about work...work work work work. AAAAAAAaaand I'm still poor. Go figure. Being back up north is both a strange mix of relaxing and frustrating. There are times at night when the sun is going down and the lake is calm and the docks are empty and I feel almost at peace, then usually someone farts (me) and the moment passes. No really all I am missing is someone to sit next to me (cue the dramatic and slightly sad violin music).
Besides that, I've been attempting to remind myself that there is a world out there by reading the news...which reminds me...Michele Bachman's husband is flaaaaming. It both makes me laugh and a little sick that heruns a clinic that "teaches gays how to be straight." I've seen slinkys that are straighter than that dude. It's one thing to be in the closet...it's another to fool around on the downlow...it's a new low to spend your time to convince others that being gay is wrong just so you can feel better about yourself.
Today I cleaned up my dads house a little and chatted with him...it shouldn't be hard to talk with your father but maaaaaaan...ugh. He's always loved to tell me the story about how when my mom first had cancer and started treatment, she found out she was pregnant with me...how the doctor said I was a miracle...and how I was the only baby to make it..blah blah blah. It really is a nice story if you hear it...the problem is that I really can't believe any story he tells anymore so who knows...for all I know they found me in a trash can at Hardee's and decided to keep me (pleeeease let this be true). Anyway since he found out I'm off the vagina this story has taken a new twist and therefor has moved up on his list of stories. So now I hear about Homer the wonder dog, how my highschool math teacher Mrs. Bidle told him i was so smart (which probably went something like, "Derek is really smart...but he refuses to do his homework.) and now how I was hooked up to a million tubes and wires as a baby and how he was mad about it but the nun told him it was ok because I was the only one to be able to hold a bottle...(i was always a really good eater so that's probably true). But then he says, "Yeah the doctor said you could have changes later in life...I don't know what he meant by that." Aka "It's ok your gay..." I love the guy but...he's crazy as a loon.
Anyway like I said I've been working a lot. I work at work...i eat at work...i sleep at work...I take my days off at work...I dream about work...work work work work. AAAAAAAaaand I'm still poor. Go figure. Being back up north is both a strange mix of relaxing and frustrating. There are times at night when the sun is going down and the lake is calm and the docks are empty and I feel almost at peace, then usually someone farts (me) and the moment passes. No really all I am missing is someone to sit next to me (cue the dramatic and slightly sad violin music).
Besides that, I've been attempting to remind myself that there is a world out there by reading the news...which reminds me...Michele Bachman's husband is flaaaaming. It both makes me laugh and a little sick that heruns a clinic that "teaches gays how to be straight." I've seen slinkys that are straighter than that dude. It's one thing to be in the closet...it's another to fool around on the downlow...it's a new low to spend your time to convince others that being gay is wrong just so you can feel better about yourself.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Minneapolis Pride...who knew?
Part 1
So one day I was at work devouring a pizza when I get a few texts from my cousin. She was very excited about me going down to the cities and she may have been drinking as the message didn't quite make sense to me. First of all...I was not aware that I had any days off. Apparently she had set it all up for me so that I could enjoy one day of pride in sunny Minneapolis, MN.
So I finished work on Saturday, showered in a houseboat, put on my best driving clothes and jumped into the Trailblazer. It wasn't long before I was completely bored. I tried listening to my Spanish lessons but I was too busy day dreaming about the upcoming weekend. What was pride in Minnesota going to be like?!?! I hadn't exactly had the greatest of times at any pride in Texas...well that's not true. I had great times at each Pride but really it was just because I was with fun people...everything else was kind of an after thought. So as I made my way down to the big city I called my cousin to see what she had instore....turns out that she had nothing instore. In fact...she wasn't even answering the phone. Luckily my other cousin was more than willing to pick up the slack and we made plans to spend the evening. So I spent the first night eating sushi and taking in all the action going around me. After a brief sleep my other cousin called me in the morning to inform me that I was not only going to the parade...but I was actually IN the parade. So I just kind of went with it.
The good thing was that I actually got to see a lot of the parade. We were something like the 116th group/float and it was nearish the end. Also I wasn't complaining that we were behind this badass all black drum line either. As I watched the floats go past waiting for our turn a few things struck me...first of all, there were a lot of floats that really have nothing to do with gay pride. Like the END WAR float. Sure, I guess on the surface that is a good thought. War usually sucks for all involved...but what does that have to do with gay pride? I guess you have to think of them as an organization and not the message but that is difficult to do. I just didnt' really like that there were people trying to "end war" while the rest of us are trying to get equality. Let's stay on message here.
Another thing that I knew would happen but was still surprised people bothered were the strange protesters there. There would be these random guys with cardboard signs and messages written on them. They all really looked homeless to me, which is why I guess they have the kind of time to try to go by themselves to convince gay people god hates them. The thing I really didn't understand was how little effort they put into it! I mean for real...you're trying to convince a group of gay dudes dressed in Gucci that your path is the right path and you show up with pants 4 sizes to big held together by an orange extension cord, and two different sized shoes!?!? Also...he had spelled lesbian wrong. I tried telling him that but I think he just thought I said being a lesbian was wrong and he started to talk with me and I just kept throwing candy at him until he went away.
Finally it came time for us to walk and that's when I realized another flaw in our plan...we were throwing the worst candy ever! Who the hell wants those gross ass red and white mint candies you get for free at every business everywhere!?!? If our group was handing out that candy for Halloween we would of been egged for sure. Here we are trying to bribe children to believe gays are cool and we are handing them inferior candy...hell half of the kids I gave it to threw it back at us....
So one day I was at work devouring a pizza when I get a few texts from my cousin. She was very excited about me going down to the cities and she may have been drinking as the message didn't quite make sense to me. First of all...I was not aware that I had any days off. Apparently she had set it all up for me so that I could enjoy one day of pride in sunny Minneapolis, MN.
So I finished work on Saturday, showered in a houseboat, put on my best driving clothes and jumped into the Trailblazer. It wasn't long before I was completely bored. I tried listening to my Spanish lessons but I was too busy day dreaming about the upcoming weekend. What was pride in Minnesota going to be like?!?! I hadn't exactly had the greatest of times at any pride in Texas...well that's not true. I had great times at each Pride but really it was just because I was with fun people...everything else was kind of an after thought. So as I made my way down to the big city I called my cousin to see what she had instore....turns out that she had nothing instore. In fact...she wasn't even answering the phone. Luckily my other cousin was more than willing to pick up the slack and we made plans to spend the evening. So I spent the first night eating sushi and taking in all the action going around me. After a brief sleep my other cousin called me in the morning to inform me that I was not only going to the parade...but I was actually IN the parade. So I just kind of went with it.
The good thing was that I actually got to see a lot of the parade. We were something like the 116th group/float and it was nearish the end. Also I wasn't complaining that we were behind this badass all black drum line either. As I watched the floats go past waiting for our turn a few things struck me...first of all, there were a lot of floats that really have nothing to do with gay pride. Like the END WAR float. Sure, I guess on the surface that is a good thought. War usually sucks for all involved...but what does that have to do with gay pride? I guess you have to think of them as an organization and not the message but that is difficult to do. I just didnt' really like that there were people trying to "end war" while the rest of us are trying to get equality. Let's stay on message here.
Another thing that I knew would happen but was still surprised people bothered were the strange protesters there. There would be these random guys with cardboard signs and messages written on them. They all really looked homeless to me, which is why I guess they have the kind of time to try to go by themselves to convince gay people god hates them. The thing I really didn't understand was how little effort they put into it! I mean for real...you're trying to convince a group of gay dudes dressed in Gucci that your path is the right path and you show up with pants 4 sizes to big held together by an orange extension cord, and two different sized shoes!?!? Also...he had spelled lesbian wrong. I tried telling him that but I think he just thought I said being a lesbian was wrong and he started to talk with me and I just kept throwing candy at him until he went away.
Finally it came time for us to walk and that's when I realized another flaw in our plan...we were throwing the worst candy ever! Who the hell wants those gross ass red and white mint candies you get for free at every business everywhere!?!? If our group was handing out that candy for Halloween we would of been egged for sure. Here we are trying to bribe children to believe gays are cool and we are handing them inferior candy...hell half of the kids I gave it to threw it back at us....
So now that I am back up state (that's what I'm now calling Northern Minnesota...sounds so much fancier...like eat with utensils fancy!) I've been spending time with friends and family again. Really nothing has changed but it's a little weird since I haven't seen many of them since my coming out party (there is still time to get me a gift if you forgot...preferably jerky). Anyway things have been pretty good since coming up here. I work a lot and I'm trying to learn Spanish by myself and those two things keep me tied up pretty much all day (your lame tied up joke here _______). The one thing about being back is that I have learned I could never live here. May be if I was married and had a family...then I could do it. I'd actually LOVE to live here. The people here are just as I remembered. The bad people really aren't all that bad. People are laid back. There's not as much drama....but I just couldn't do it. It's all the little things I've come to expect in life. I can't find good internet. Which is really annoying when you have a Skype date with a Mexican every Sunday night at 10 pm. It takes FOREVER to get anywhere worth going. There's only a handful of places to go eat. The grocery store is closed when I go to work and closed when I get home from work. I'm convinced nobody ever is able to actually go in the library with their weird hours, and worst of all...there are very few gays. Oh sure. They are out there. I've seen them. I can hear them howl at night. And it's not that I'm looking for a quick hookup...it's that I'd like to have A gay friend up here. Someone under the age of 40 who hasn't sent me a picture of their penis would be preferable. I guess I'm not really trying that hard. All my best friends are kind of close to here anyway. Why go out of my way to meet new friends when the people I've liked the most for my entire life are within driving distance anyway? Plus like I said...I work a lot. Well..I'm AT work a lot! Haha. Most nights I have just enough time to go home, shower, put in a movie, and fall asleep before it even gets started.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
My triumphant return
So I'm back in God's country. That's right, Angora, MN just had a population boom (goes the dynamite). Being back up north is a strange mix of good and bad and weird and new and old and the same and the color purple...I'm not sure I can find the words to describe it but I'm told they are in the Dictionary.
Everything is the same really, but everything stills feels different and I can't help but think that maybe it's not the town that's changed...may be it's me. dramatic pause as I look off into the distance with a solemn expression. A bird crows in the distance and for the first time you understand love.
No but for realz (as the kids say), things are different. Sure there is a different water tower, my dad has stripped half of his property of trees, and the roads in town have a slightly different configuration, but the changes I recognize the most are my own.
I went and got a hair cut today. I first tried the two salon's in town and they were both booked for the entire day, which I find ridiculous. Why is this small town getting so many damn haircuts?!?! So instead I went to the old stand by, the Gay Blade. Or i guess it's really called The Hair Place. It's the same guy that's cut my hair for the last i dunno...15 years? He's not quite as fast but he still gets the job done. But as I sat there getting my hair did, I looked up and realized there were three deer heads mounted on the wall and each of them was positioned so that it was looking directly into my soul. I found it oddly amusing...really only in Minnesota would this happen. When I was in Austin I would get my hair cut at Sports Clips which was designed for men...but now I understand the truth...THIS is where men get their hair cut. Not at Sports Clips. There are no fancy TV's on the wall at The Hair Place. There are dead dear staring you in the face!
Anyway I would like to give a special shout out to Mary Conger . She is a good gal, and once you get past the smell she's a catch. Thanks Mary!
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Mythbuster/creator
I decided that since I'm pretty sure I can't fix the crazy in the world that I"m just going to join them. People don't care about facts anymore...they just look for things that reaffirm what they already believe, so I'm just going to make some things up and hope they catch on.
1. Obama was not only born in Africa, he's also secretly white.
It's true. I dare Obama to release his credit card information so that we can see the millions of dollars he spends on shoe polish each year. NOBODY HAS THAT MANY SHOES! He's obviously a white dude. (side note he looks slightly like Alfred E. Newman as a white man) Also I saw him throw a baseball...he's not an athlete. He talks like a white guy. I didn't hear him say "Homie" once in any of his speeches...who does he think he's fooling? Not me or Donald Trump, I'll tell you that! He's only claiming to be black to secure the minority vote in America and it worked. So I think we should all start a petition to make him release all his credit card information because I can't think of a single reason why he wouldn't do it besides the fact that he's trying to hide that he's really white.
2. Homosexuals recruit young men.
I am here by stating that yes I was recruited. When I turned 18 I got a letter in the mail from the Army, the Navy, and the FDA (Fairy Dust Academy). After weighing my many options and only after being aproved for a low interest loan I finally decided to become Gay. That totally not anti-gay Senator from Montana was onto something. WE DO recruit. Duh. How else would there be gay people? I was very happy living my life perusing the vagina when this man in rainbow fatigues jumped out of the bushes and convinced me to be gay. My reasoning was that since everyone is so understanding and not bigoted in any way there was no reason for me to not easily switch sides and be gay. I mean penis...vagina...who cares right?!!? All it takes is a smooth talking gay to make all those hetero boys change teams. It's obviously not intense social and religious pressure for them to hide their sexuality....
3. Bacon is bad for you...bacon grease however will make you immortal.
Doctors are out to get you but they do it in a clever way. See they want to keep you aging so you get old and sick and then they buy yachts in the Caribbean and drink Shirley Temples out of goblets made of crystallized dinosaur bones. Here is the truth, and you can trust me I read medical files for a living...I have an inside source. Bacon Grease hardens your arteries which not only lets the blood flow throw faster but also prevents them from distributing the aging drug that has been released into the air by the man who invented the nursing home. It all makes perfect sense if you close one eye and bang your head on your desk.
4. Aliens exist but there is no such things as flying saucers.
It's really just giants playing frisbee. Quit being stupid.
5. Listen this is the most important and I don't think I have much time. I probably shouldn't be wasting all this time telling you how much time I don't have at the moment. I think someone is on to me and my truth sharing blog. But I must get this final crucial piece out before they shut me down. I really can't stress enough how much tim....
6. Nothing to see here folks. All is well. Please keep breathing the air.
1. Obama was not only born in Africa, he's also secretly white.
It's true. I dare Obama to release his credit card information so that we can see the millions of dollars he spends on shoe polish each year. NOBODY HAS THAT MANY SHOES! He's obviously a white dude. (side note he looks slightly like Alfred E. Newman as a white man) Also I saw him throw a baseball...he's not an athlete. He talks like a white guy. I didn't hear him say "Homie" once in any of his speeches...who does he think he's fooling? Not me or Donald Trump, I'll tell you that! He's only claiming to be black to secure the minority vote in America and it worked. So I think we should all start a petition to make him release all his credit card information because I can't think of a single reason why he wouldn't do it besides the fact that he's trying to hide that he's really white.
2. Homosexuals recruit young men.
I am here by stating that yes I was recruited. When I turned 18 I got a letter in the mail from the Army, the Navy, and the FDA (Fairy Dust Academy). After weighing my many options and only after being aproved for a low interest loan I finally decided to become Gay. That totally not anti-gay Senator from Montana was onto something. WE DO recruit. Duh. How else would there be gay people? I was very happy living my life perusing the vagina when this man in rainbow fatigues jumped out of the bushes and convinced me to be gay. My reasoning was that since everyone is so understanding and not bigoted in any way there was no reason for me to not easily switch sides and be gay. I mean penis...vagina...who cares right?!!? All it takes is a smooth talking gay to make all those hetero boys change teams. It's obviously not intense social and religious pressure for them to hide their sexuality....
3. Bacon is bad for you...bacon grease however will make you immortal.
Doctors are out to get you but they do it in a clever way. See they want to keep you aging so you get old and sick and then they buy yachts in the Caribbean and drink Shirley Temples out of goblets made of crystallized dinosaur bones. Here is the truth, and you can trust me I read medical files for a living...I have an inside source. Bacon Grease hardens your arteries which not only lets the blood flow throw faster but also prevents them from distributing the aging drug that has been released into the air by the man who invented the nursing home. It all makes perfect sense if you close one eye and bang your head on your desk.
4. Aliens exist but there is no such things as flying saucers.
It's really just giants playing frisbee. Quit being stupid.
5. Listen this is the most important and I don't think I have much time. I probably shouldn't be wasting all this time telling you how much time I don't have at the moment. I think someone is on to me and my truth sharing blog. But I must get this final crucial piece out before they shut me down. I really can't stress enough how much tim....
6. Nothing to see here folks. All is well. Please keep breathing the air.
Monday, March 28, 2011
I decided to let someone cut my hair
A few days ago I finally bit the bullet and got a hair cut. Just so you know...i look damn good. I've been needing one badly for about 5 hundred years (give or take some major exaggeration). The problem I have with hair cuts is that they are so damn expensive and I am convinced that went people look at my hair all they see is color, put in a trance, and are unable to properly explain what they are looking at. I say this because nobody ever seems to agree with me that I need a haircut nor that I ever had my hair cut. Yet they all are convinced that I've spent hundreds of thousands of dollars dying my hair to match the color of pure sunshine.
I think though...i found someone I like. No offense to my hair cutting friends out there, but men just don't need a haircut over $15. I don't need it styled, and dyed, and primped...it makes no sense. I've had the $50 haircuts. I've had the $10 hair cuts...it's all the same. I'm not saying there isn't skill involved. I once tried doing it myself and it was a national disaster. FEMA still hasn't recovered. It made dogs howl. It was the one issue republicans and democrats agreed on. Caused cancer in lab mice...Even Charlie Sheen thought I looked crazy...ok i'll stop. I think the problem was that I tried using meat shears...but who is to say.
Anywho. I went in and got my much needed haircut. There were 6 stylists and one of them was going to win the opportunity to get me to sit in the chair and not talk to them. Which reminds me. Why do they all INSIST on chatting ...just cut my damn hair. I don't want to be buddies. Do a good job and I'l come back...I'm not coming back because you asked me how my day was and talked about your vacation to Mexico. I just don't want to chat when I'm getting a hair cut and two things usually happen. One, they feel weird that I'm not talking, which makes me feel weird, which pisses me off. I'm not rude, I just give short answers which one would assume means I"m not really in a chatty mood. But nooooo...stylists seem to be completely shocked that anyone anywhere doesn't want to banter on about hair cutting gossip. So either we both start feeling weird or they don't even seem to notice and they just babble. This usually leads to the most inane one sided conversations. If you let people talk they will tell you the most private things for no damn reason. (There are old blogs here somewhere about a racist stylist, and a dude who was trying to hide porn from his wife who he hated.)
But this day I was lucky, and luck was a lady. She looked and sounded like an imitation of Gloria from Modern Family. There is one thing and one thing only that will actually make me want to hear you talk and that's having a sexy Latin accent. growl. Not the "I don't really speak English Latin" accent, but the "I speak English perfectly fine but I still sound sexual" Latin accent. She was all, "Aye Papi, how jew whant me to cut jewr air?"
Conversation started as usual. She asked me what I was doing and blah blah blah...But then her conversation started getting oddly factual. Somehow she slipped in that she was done at 7 and single. She also was slyly asking whether I lived close by and if I had a girlfriend. I admit...I flirted some, i mean obviously that's not going anywhere but hey it was fun. Plus she had this long nails and was massaging my scalp and it felt uhmazing. Then while she had me in her grasp she asked if I wanted to just got a piano bar later and just reeeelax. And I had to tell her that I played for the other team. She was a little embarrassed but was nice about it.
Anyway. The end result was actually a really good haircut. I think I should of had her cut the sides a little shorter but there are no lines and it's even. She does good work. Hooray Super Cuts...haha.
until next time,
D
I think though...i found someone I like. No offense to my hair cutting friends out there, but men just don't need a haircut over $15. I don't need it styled, and dyed, and primped...it makes no sense. I've had the $50 haircuts. I've had the $10 hair cuts...it's all the same. I'm not saying there isn't skill involved. I once tried doing it myself and it was a national disaster. FEMA still hasn't recovered. It made dogs howl. It was the one issue republicans and democrats agreed on. Caused cancer in lab mice...Even Charlie Sheen thought I looked crazy...ok i'll stop. I think the problem was that I tried using meat shears...but who is to say.
Anywho. I went in and got my much needed haircut. There were 6 stylists and one of them was going to win the opportunity to get me to sit in the chair and not talk to them. Which reminds me. Why do they all INSIST on chatting ...just cut my damn hair. I don't want to be buddies. Do a good job and I'l come back...I'm not coming back because you asked me how my day was and talked about your vacation to Mexico. I just don't want to chat when I'm getting a hair cut and two things usually happen. One, they feel weird that I'm not talking, which makes me feel weird, which pisses me off. I'm not rude, I just give short answers which one would assume means I"m not really in a chatty mood. But nooooo...stylists seem to be completely shocked that anyone anywhere doesn't want to banter on about hair cutting gossip. So either we both start feeling weird or they don't even seem to notice and they just babble. This usually leads to the most inane one sided conversations. If you let people talk they will tell you the most private things for no damn reason. (There are old blogs here somewhere about a racist stylist, and a dude who was trying to hide porn from his wife who he hated.)
But this day I was lucky, and luck was a lady. She looked and sounded like an imitation of Gloria from Modern Family. There is one thing and one thing only that will actually make me want to hear you talk and that's having a sexy Latin accent. growl. Not the "I don't really speak English Latin" accent, but the "I speak English perfectly fine but I still sound sexual" Latin accent. She was all, "Aye Papi, how jew whant me to cut jewr air?"
Conversation started as usual. She asked me what I was doing and blah blah blah...But then her conversation started getting oddly factual. Somehow she slipped in that she was done at 7 and single. She also was slyly asking whether I lived close by and if I had a girlfriend. I admit...I flirted some, i mean obviously that's not going anywhere but hey it was fun. Plus she had this long nails and was massaging my scalp and it felt uhmazing. Then while she had me in her grasp she asked if I wanted to just got a piano bar later and just reeeelax. And I had to tell her that I played for the other team. She was a little embarrassed but was nice about it.
Anyway. The end result was actually a really good haircut. I think I should of had her cut the sides a little shorter but there are no lines and it's even. She does good work. Hooray Super Cuts...haha.
until next time,
D
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Smooth with the Ladies.
Two days ago I went into work and saw that this girl Elana who I really like working with was there. Her and I almost never work at the same times and when we do it's never in the same areas so we rarely get to chat. I just think she's a little funny and she's good at her job so I enjoy it.
Anyway something is a little off about Elana and I'm having a really hard time figuring out what it is. I see her in the back before I've started and I go up to her and tell her, "Hey, you look different somehow today." She kind of gives me a weird look and then someone else comes up behind me and distracts me and when I turn back to her she is already gone. I'm really busy that day so I don't really get much of a chance to talk with her. Every once in a while though I'd be around her and something is different. She looks...magnified somehow...like someone cropper her out of a photo, enlarged her, and then cropper her back in so that she looked bigger. NOT fatter...just bigger. I can't figure out if it's just that I"m closer to her now or what...So I keep staring at her and something is definitely different. So I tell her, "I can't figure out what is different...I think it's your hair...it's prettier in some way." And she kind of blushes. And then we are back to work...the entire time I'm working though I can't stop thinking about what it is. Was she always that tall? I can't put my finger on it. I keep seeing her out of the corner of my eye and I just can't figure it out.
Finally about 4 hours into my shift someone asks me to show something to Hailey on the computer. My first response is, "Who the hell is Hailey?!?!" And they go..."The girl you've been ringing with all day." And finally...it hits me...ELANA IS HAILEY!!! That's why she looked so different! White girls all look the same.
Anyway something is a little off about Elana and I'm having a really hard time figuring out what it is. I see her in the back before I've started and I go up to her and tell her, "Hey, you look different somehow today." She kind of gives me a weird look and then someone else comes up behind me and distracts me and when I turn back to her she is already gone. I'm really busy that day so I don't really get much of a chance to talk with her. Every once in a while though I'd be around her and something is different. She looks...magnified somehow...like someone cropper her out of a photo, enlarged her, and then cropper her back in so that she looked bigger. NOT fatter...just bigger. I can't figure out if it's just that I"m closer to her now or what...So I keep staring at her and something is definitely different. So I tell her, "I can't figure out what is different...I think it's your hair...it's prettier in some way." And she kind of blushes. And then we are back to work...the entire time I'm working though I can't stop thinking about what it is. Was she always that tall? I can't put my finger on it. I keep seeing her out of the corner of my eye and I just can't figure it out.
Finally about 4 hours into my shift someone asks me to show something to Hailey on the computer. My first response is, "Who the hell is Hailey?!?!" And they go..."The girl you've been ringing with all day." And finally...it hits me...ELANA IS HAILEY!!! That's why she looked so different! White girls all look the same.
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