Much like most of you, I had the occasion to attend "high school" at one point in my life...One of the (few) things I enjoyed about attending high school was participating on the track and field team...Now, being "larger" (read: fatter) than the other kids in school, it wasn't bloody likely that I'd be competing in any of the "running" or "jumping" or (God forbid) "vaulting" events...As such, the only events left in track and field competition are the throwing events, commonly called "weight" events. In high school (at least in Colorado high schools), the only two weight events to choose from are shot put and discus. While in school, I participated in both of these weight events but, if I had a "strong suit," so to speak, discus would have been "it." I really did like the whole spinning and the throwing and stuff and, frankly, it really was a whole lot of fun being a "weightman," as opposed to anything else, especially due to the fact that, at any track meet, the weight events were always among the first events to take place...This meant that, if you were lucky enough to be a weightman, you didn't have to suffer through any "waiting around," you were pretty much "up" as soon as the meet started...It also meant that, once your event (or events) were completed, you were done for the day...Ah, sweet freedom, there was no end to the possibilities! You could lounge around in the stands and get sunburned, you could eat and chat with your friends, you could "hang around" and make fun of the pale, emaciated distance runners from other schools, you could chug 3 liters of grape soda real fast and then puke it up all over the exterior of a rival school's bus...

You know, you could do "whatever"...Anyway...

During my senior year of high school, I decided that I should "make the most" of all of the track meets which I was going to be involved in...Due to this fact, I began approaching the meets as more of a "social gathering" than a sporting event, replete with food, drinks, shenanigans and (of course) "goings on"...I would always pack up a large cooler full of "goodies" the night before a meet and would, in turn, always share the bounty that lurked within said cooler with the other weightmen on the track team...After all, once our events were done, what else we gonna do? It was best to simply while away those remaining hours by "eating food" and "making fun of stuff." Of course, the contents of the cooler were pretty much restricted to "cold foods," or, at the very least, foods that didn't require their being "served warm"...As such, there were times that I craved treats which my giant red cooler simply couldn't deliver...Thankfully, most of the venues where our track meets were held boasted AT LEAST a basic concession stand. Some of these venues, such as Garry Berry Stadium here in my "hometown" of Colorado Springs, maintained a pretty decent concession stand, from which all manner of wonderful food-related items could be purchased...At the very least, they sold more than just crappy candy bars and warm cans of soda...It is here, at said concession stand (of doom), that our story takes a dark and stormy turn...I shall now relate to you a tale off sorrow (also: woe) which will include (but is not limited to) "stadium seating," "Pumas" and "warm, lovely nachos"...

Read on, if you dare...

Heh...Ok, it's not as dramatic as all of THAT, but our story today does involve "loss." Stay with me, you'll understand in a bit...I hope...Anyway...

So there I was, strolling along the concourse-type area at Garry Berry Stadium on a beautiful Spring afternoon...I had already competed in the discus and was looking forward to experiencing a wonderful day filled with "eating" and "making fun of people" when I suddenly began to experience a persistent, food-related craving which my trusty red cooler could simply not satiate..Nay, I suddenly felt the familiar pangs which I knew could only be quelled by a warm tray of nachos (also: more cowbell) which, by some wonderful coincidence, happens to be one of the offerings at the Garry Berry concession stand (the nachos, not the cowbell). Giving in to temptation, as I am apt to do, I immediately made my way to said "stand," ordered up, paid for and received my "nacho tray." Sweet, cheesy victory was MINE! I should probably mention that this particular nacho tray didn't come all "pre-loaded" with liquified cheese product, something which would have probably just made those crispy, golden chips "all soggy." No, this nacho tray came with said cheese "on the side" in a handy, plastic cup (now with lid!)...With my chippy, cheesy bounty in hand, I ventured away from concessions and over to the stands where I could sit and enjoy my treat...

Before I go any further, I need to describe the "shoes" which I had the habit of wearing when I threw the discus. These shoes just happened to be an old pair of Puma high-tops, white with red trim. The tread on the soles of this set of footwear was virtually non-existant, having been worn down through years of being utilized, Fred Flintstone style, as the "brakes" on my bicycle. This fact made these shoes ideal footwear for discus throwing, as said "lack of tread" allowed for very little "friction resistance" when I spun across the discus ring. With that being said, as great as they were for "spinning," they weren't much good for your basic "walking" or "climbing" related chores. This fact seemed mostly insignificant to me at the time, but it was about to cause a major problem for me, as you will soon find out...

The bleachers at Garry Berry Stadium are your basic, garden variety staggered aluminum bleachers, the kind that you're likely to find at many "stadia" across this great land...So anyway, with nachos in hand, I approached the top row of the aforementioned metal seats and chose my spot...I stepped onto the edge of the top bench, intending to then step down to the platform, plant my ass on that top bench and, subsequently, "eat my nachos." Gravity, however, apparently had other ideas...Well, "gravity" and those damn Pumas...SCREW YOU, PUMAS!..Regardless, It seems that, when I stepped onto the "edge" of that top bench, I ended up with more "air" than "edge" and "lost my footing." As you now know, with no stinkin' "tread" on my shoes with which to create some suddenly much-needed "friction,", I became nothing more than a "body in motion," the aforementioned (evil) "gravity" doing it's dirty, sciencey work, pulling my largesse like a meteor towards the bottom of the stadium...

"Aww, crap," I thought to myself. "I'm fixin' to die."

Somehow, in a very lucid moment of self-preservation, I managed to twist my girth so that, instead of toppling forward and having my face ricochet off of the metal bleachers on the way down, I (thankfully) was able to fall (you guessed it) asswards toward the stands. Predictably, a mere split-second after I accomplished this feat, I began my (now infamous) descent down the bleachers at Garry Berry, my ample backside impacting each of the aluminum stadium benches along the way, instantly accelerating toward the bottom of the stadium as a giant snowball (with nachos) would roll down a mountain (made of aluminum). I had one thought in my head through all of this...I knew that I HAD to protect those nachos...

Those stupid snowballs and their not having "opposable thumbs," THEY could NEVER buy nachos...Anyway...

you may be currently thinking that any number of things besides "food" should be occupying my brain at such a critical moment, but you'd be wrong...After all, I had just PAID for those nachos, I damn sure wasn't about to lose 'em...As such, I focused all available energy on said nachos, the colorful paper tray full of chips in my right hand, the wee little cup of glorious, melty "cheese" in my left...Despite the fact that I was, of course, in the process of bouncing towards the bottom of a stadium on my ass, I really was doing a fine job of keeping everything level...Of course, I didn't have any time to give thought as to how I was going to stop...

Soon enough, though, THAT mystery was solved for me...

There just so happened to be a decent-sized group of kids from Coronado high school sitting in the stands on that fateful day, they too, presumably, having competed in, and completed, their events...These "Coronado kids" also just so happened to be directly in my gravity-accelerated path...It wasn't long after I began my rapid descent that I plowed directly into this crowd, much like a big blue-and-nacho bowling ball would strike a set of poor, unsuspecting, Coronado bowling pins. At the moment of impact, all of my motion, downward or otherwise, was predictably, and abruptly, halted...My warm, golden, crispy corn tortilla chips though, which I had been doing such an admirable job of protecting, did NOT stop. Instead, they cascaded their crispy golden goodness over my head and down upon the unsuspecting track meet attendees whom I had so gracefully intruded upon only moments before...Sitting there, on top of (and tangled amongst) those stinkin' Coronado kids, I suddenly realized that I had, in fact, failed...I was left staring back up at that top bench where I had planned to be sitting, holding nothing more than an empty paper tray, save for a few greasy spots where those oh-so-tempting chips had been, and that stupid plastic cup filled with that stupid liquid cheese...Product...Stuff. At this point, I really wasn't embarrassed, like one might imagine I should be. No, I was just significantly disappointed (pissed off). As a result of said disappointment, I finished off the carnage by chucking the aforementioned cheese-cup as hard as I was able. Much like a small, orange hawk in flight, it sailed through the Spring air, the sun glinting off of it's regal little plastic lid, just before impacting and exploding against the side of one of those stupid, slick aluminum benches...And yes, hawks could do that if they were so inclined...

Take THAT, stupid bleachers...

I think that the oddest part about having finally plucked this little story from my memory and adding it to the ol' blog isn't having it "bring back painful memories," or anything, mostly because there really aren't any "painful memories" for me regarding this particular incident...Thinking back, I remember not being injured in the fall and I didn't have to endure any long-term harassment because of it either. To tell you the truth, I thought that the whole incident was probably pretty damned funny, just like everyone else...I really wish that someone had been videotaping me that day...Man,, I'd love to see it all go down, especially the part where I crashed into that pile of kids...Heck, rather than avoid any mention of my "fall," I remember that I went so far as to draw a cartoon which chronicled the incident as part of a project in one of the many art classes which I took. Unfortunately, I've been unable to find this cartoon (which is too bad, it'd make a nice addition to this entry)...I didn't REALLY learn any lessons that day, nor did I scrap those friggin' Pumas and go looking for different shoes to wear at track meets. Overall, I was left unscarred by the whole event, so much so that it's kind of an event that's a "non-event" in some respects...Probably why it took me so long to remember to type out the details...With that said, I do feel kind of a dull, longing pang regarding the incident:

I'm like, REALLY hungry for nachos now...

Labels: I eat food, indignities, lame stories, me roots

A while ago, while my wife and I (among others) were visiting my aunt and uncle (and their two kids), my uncle blindsided me with his big, post-cremation, what-to-do-with-my-remains idea: He wants me to "draw something" using (get this) his remains...Aaaaand I think he was kind of serious about it...No, my uncle is NOT mentally unstable...No, I am NOT making this up...

Perhaps I should explain...

You've no doubt heard by now about the (dubiously morbid) practice of manufacturing LifeGems. According to the company's website, a LifeGem is a certified, high quality diamond created from the carbon of your loved one as a memorial to their unique and wonderful life. The LifeGem provides a way to embrace your loved one's memory day by day.

Let's cover that crap ONE MORE TIME, shall we? the friggin' CARBON of your loved one...

You see, after your "loved one" is cremated, you're (usually) left with this "pile of ash" which you have to take care of. Now, you COULD be all TRADITIONAL and NORMAL and crap and just keep these "ashes" in an "urn" or something and display them prominently in your home...Yeah, you COULD do that, or, you COULD give them ashes up to the friendly folks at LifeGem...These ghouls wonderful people will, in turn, "harvest the carbon" from said "pile of ash," purify it and, eventually, compress it into an artificial diamond which you can then display to accessorize those "sassy pumps" that you picked up last week...Yeah, sure...Sounds perfectly normal to me...

"Oh, that's so lovely, where did you get it?"

"It's mom."

"Oh, your mom left it to you?"

"No, I mean It's actually mom. It's made from mom. mom mom mom."

"You're sick in the head, you know that?"

"No, seriously, look close, you can almost see that familiar gleam that once resided in her eye! now, that gleam's on my finger FOREVER...I'm thinking about making earrings from dad."

"Get away from me, don't you talk to me!"

"JUST LOOK AT HER! ISN'T SHE BEAUTIFUL? COME BACK! she didn't mean it, mother, she didn't mean it..."

So, as if that crap isn't bad enough, there's this artist fella' who resides in the Houston (Texas) area who has taken to producing paintings which include (in the pigment, I assume) "human remains." More specifically, he utilizes unclaimed human ashes, post cremation, to give a "human connection" to the paintings. After finding this out, I had reason to pause and think...I'm now not sure which would be MORE morbid: purchasing a haunted friggin' painting made from some crack addict destined for the Potter's Field or simply breaking off a chunk of the Sedlec Ossuary to take home as a souvenir...Either way, the shenanigans which I've typed about up to this point, if nothing else, run contrary to something which I've always believed to be true...

You shouldn't fuck around with the dead...'Cause they'll get ya...

Anyhow, back to main point of today's tale, my uncle the pencil...Yeah, so my uncle decided (at some point), probably after hearing about some of the things we've just talked about, what modern technology (and, perhaps, a lack of respect for our dearly departed) can do for your earthly remains, He decided that he wanted to have HIS carbon harvested, made into pencil graphite (or something similar) and then presented to me so that I could "draw something."

Talk about pressure...Draw what, exactly? A guy holding a giant hot dog? I'm gonna need some direction here...

You're probably assuming by now that he was just "kidding" and you MAY BE right...Maybe...I'm still not sure...He sure sold it as if he were serious...The question I should ask, though, is obvious: Do I want THAT kind of responsibility?..The answer: Probably not...What if I screw up? I don't want to have to ERASE any of him...What would happen every time I sharpened him? Would he scream? I mean, yes, I do draw pretty much all friggin' day...I doodle on scrap paper while I'm working on other stuff, I draw when I'm bored, I draw specific things as part of my job, I'm truly never without an opportunity to draw...That said, I don't often draw anything COHESIVE and I've never had to draw anything using a formerly living thing as my media...On a regular basis, I usually just "draw what comes to mind" (you see them, they're the goofy sketches I include at the top of every post) and, as you may already know, my mind ain't all "normal and stuff." What this all means is that, if I WERE to be presented with a pencil that happened to be manufactured from the "harvested carbon" of someone whom I knew, I'd most likely feel such a great responsibility to NOT draw something stupid that I would simply lock up and fail. Either that, or I'd forget about the pencil's signifigance after a while and...oh, I don't know, use it to keep score during a euchre game or something...

"But, if you used it to draw a PORTRAIT of the person it were made out of...Wow, THAT would be cool."

Yeah, maybe so...Talk about a conversation piece! I guess that it's POSSIBLE that I could even be assisted with such a project by "unseen hands," or guided along by the "spirit pencil lead" to get a great result but, when it's all said and done, I still don't think that it's a responsibility which I'm ready to take on...No, in fact I believe that morbid tributes such as that should be better left to the professionals...Well, them and those nutty Czechs...

Labels: 'de paranormal, lame stories, misguided rantings, spooky shit

As I mentioned (in passing) sometime last week, I had been "tagged" by Rocket Jones (some time ago, now) for one of those meme-type posts that we are all so insanely fond of...Now, it's not that I've been blowin' in off, I really did try to get this thing taken care of in a timely fashion...Sadly, though, it was not to be...The reason is a simple one, which I will share with you now...Rocket's meme (the "meme in question") implored the "tagee" (among others, "me") to post, and subsequently elaborate upon, 5 things I miss from my childhood...

Sounds simple, right?..Yes, well...It's not...Not for me, at least...

What's my frickin' problem, you may ask? Well, kids, speaking frankly, I could probably just ramble nonstop, filling countless pages with crap which I DON'T miss about being a kid, but, when challenged, I couldn't readily come up with any more than 3 stupid things which I really, truly miss from that "magical" time known as "growin' up." Now, don't get me wrong, I didn't have a bad childhood by any stretch of the imagination...I guess that it was...well...Largely uneventful...That, or I just didn't pay enough attention...Thanks for being "forgettable," 1980s...

Anyhow, after a little "brain thinkin'," I did FINALLY fill out that "list o' five" with things that I truly can say that harbor a fondness for and that I REALLY TRULY cannot experience anymore, at least not with the same childlike perspective. I am ready to fulfill my "tagee responsibilities" and share my list with you all...now:

5 Things That I Miss From Childhood

1. Carnation breakfast bars - chocolate chip flavor
"Back in the day," there were these smallish, crispy, gritty, chocolate-coated, granolaesque chunks of absolute heaven known simply as "breakfast bars." These special little items were available in a few different flavors, but the chocolate chip was my personal favorite...These bars weren't overtly flavorful, in fact, I remember them as tasting "just right," with a nice, crumbly texture that went perfectly with a glass of milk...One of my favorite things to do with these bars was to painstakingly strip the thin chocolate coating off of the bar with my teeth, leaving just the crispy innards which I could then savor at my own pace...Ahh, the memories...It's probably just as well that they're off the market...Carnation would've probably repackaged them by now as "Carnation XTREME Energy bars," or some such crap, to appeal to a "younger market." Stupid bastards...Anyhow, I digress...

2. tie: Candilicious and Bonkers
Holy crapola, two (actually three) "food-related" items in a row!..Look, as far as "candy" goes, there have been no finer creations in all of confectiondom than the (painfully) sweet creations which I just mentioned. Both Candilicious and Bonkers were similar in that they were chewy, fruity-flavored (or the candy approximation of fruity-flavored) candy chunks which were aggressively marketed toward children...Bonkers had kind of a "two-pronged attack," if you will, with a "concentrated block of flavor" wrapped in a...more normal...ring of flavor...or somethin'...Anyway, they were pretty friggin' good...Watermelon was my favorite flavor, but all of the flavors were awesome...Now, with that in mind, think of Candilicious being mostly like the Bonkers "concentrated block" without the "normal" outer ring...That's right, nothing but a concentrated, sweet chunk of candy which was likely to put you into a diabetic coma just from breating the rush of "candy air" which would woosh out when you first opened the bag...I recall fondly when my then-friend Ryan and I finished off two bags of that friggin' candy while playing Mike Tyson's Punchout for the NES...I was SO high on the sugar that night...Oh man, I remember being sick for like...two days...Good times...
*While hunting for Candilicious and Bonkers links on the web, I came up with nothing...Well, after getting links to adult chatrooms and porn sites when I searched for "Candilicious," I figured that I should probably cut my losses and move on...Heh..."Candilicious."

3. the game shows Whew!, Press Your Luck and Tic Tac Dough, respectively.
All of the game shows I mentioned up there "kicked ass," but Whew! was easily the best...Ok, I can't tell you exactlly what the point of the show was, or how the contestants could win, or even what they could win...But, what I DO remember, was that, at the end of the game (lightning round, or what-have-you), the contestants had to answer questions. For every question they got right, they pulled down the arm of a movie monster statue-thing, like Mummy or Frankenstein. I liked it a whole lot probably because I was like...4 years old and there were a lot of colors...Come to think of it, I wonder if I actually miss this at all...Well, I can say that I DO miss Press Your Luck, mostly for the Whammies and I miss Tic Tac Dough for the VIC 20 dragon that would eat both your money and your soul for lunch if you uncovered it...Come to think of it, I think I just miss watching people fail...Miserably...At the hands of really crappy computer graphics...I guess I need more of that...

4. Space Center and Quarter Zone, et al
OK, look...When I was a kid, I was COMPLETELY FRICKIN' PREOCCUPIED with video games...I couldn't get enough of 'em...My favorite at the time was Dragon's Lair, even though I wasn't really any good at it..Regardless, I remember that I'd bug my mom incessantly to give me money and take me to the Quarter Zone, which was an arcade on Hancock...Of course, like I mentioned, video games cost "money" and, while we weren't destitute when I was a kid, we also weren't stinkin' rich...As such, trips to the arcade were a bit rare...Eventually, though, an arcade called the Space Center opened up, of all places, in Fountain, not far from where we lived...The best thing about THIS arcade? Instead of a quarter, ALL THE GAMES COST 5¢! And games like Dragon's Lair, which usually cost you TWO WHOLE QUARTERS, at the Space Center only cost 10¢ per play...While it lasted, the Space Center may as well of been Mecca for me...Oh man...Only a DIME to play Dragon's Lair...Surely, things couldn't have gotten any better...

5. The house that I grew up in...twice.
Hey, I was stuck for...stuff...To miss...About growin' up...
The house in question is a 1950s ranch-style on Hackberry street in Security. It sports 3 bedrooms, 2 baths, an eat-in kitchen, a formal dining room, a nice big backyard and, until recently, some very majestic trees...As a family, we lived in this particular house two separate times, for a total of 17 and a half years. The only problem with the whole scenario is that my parents never OWNED the place, it was always a rental. Despite that fact, the house was always home to me, so much so in fact that, even though I haven't actually resided at the Hackberry house since 1996, if I have a vivid dream where I'm inside a house, The house in question is the only house that ever materializes...Now, I realize that the old house just keeps getting older and that I'll most likely never own it myself, nor is it likely that I'll ever set foot in it again, but I've got a lot of memories invested there...I live close enough to it that I can walk or ride my bike past it whenever I please...Checking up on the house, so to speak...It almost makes me sad that "my house" isn't my house anymore, nor will it ever be again...Goodbye, house...I hope they treat you well.

And there you have it...There was some other stuff that I was supposed to do regarding "posting links" and "tagging other people" for this but, since I'm terrible at following directions, I'm gonna take a pass on all of that...You all have a fine Monday, now...

Labels: Done Got Tagged, lame stories, me roots

Welcome to Friday, kids! Welcome to that coveted "last day of the workweek," the "gateway to the weekend" and, of course, the day best suited for displaying phrickin' photoblogs...The subject of today's exhibition is one that I don't believe I've had the occasion to tackle visually in this forum: your humble host flopping around in a seemingly uncontrollable fashion while on a flat, frozen surface...

Simply put: me "playing hockey."

As I've mentioned countless times in the past month, we had a number of different people in town for my wife's graduation and these "people" had enough foresight to bring "digital cameras" with them...In a stroke of good fortune, my father-in-law, along with Big Al, saw fit to use some of the space on said digital cameras to capture a number of images while watching me get my ass whipped deftly deflecting pucks during a recent game at the mall...I am prepared to share some of these aforementioned photographs with you...now...Click 'em, see 'em bigger, yadda yadda yadda...


Here is a shot of me taking...well, "shots" before the game during "warmup." The fact that it's warmup is obvious for two reasons: number 1: I'm on my feet and number 2: there are no members of the opposing team visible in the shot. As you will soon find out, both of those occurrences are quite rare during actual gameplay...


Ok, so I say all of that and here I am, in an upright position, (hopefully) tracking the puck somewhere to my left...I appear to be cheating back toward my right for some reason...That, or I'm just terribly ineffective at covering the post there...Damn, I'll have to work on that...Stupid post...


Aaaaand from this point on, you'd be hard pressed to find a shot of me in any way shape or form "on my feet"...In this picture, I assume that I'm in the process of making a stick save and deflecting the puck to the corner there. At the very least, I appear to be cutting down the angle alright...Power of positive thinking, man...


This here is a pretty good depiction of your standard "aww shit scramble moment." I can tell by the position of my legs that I had already split to my left and am in the process of trying to "recover" and cut down an angle...As a bonus in this shot, you get a "blurry Andy" in the background. This is neither the Andy who has a blog, nor my buddy Andy from PA...No, kids, "blurry Andy" happens to be the Andy that tends to break people's legs...and stuff...


Continuing with the same theme as the last photo, we have ourselves a classic "oh crap" pose...Obviously, something went awry here, since I'm mostly "bunched up," but am reaching back with the glove to try and stave off a shot...Or something..Maybe I'm just "stretching." Yeah, that could be it...Sure...


HEY, this shot actually doesn't make me look too terrible...For one thing, I appear to be in a decent butterfly position, my torso is uprght, my head is up...Well, holy crap...My only hope is that I've already deflected the puck to the corner, or the position of my stick is gonna give me some problems in a second or two...Dammit, GET IT TOGETHER, KNIGHT! C'mon...


And here we have a familiar position for your humble host: on my ass...At least it appears that I have the puck trapped between my pads, so this scene isn't a total loss...I will say that there are times during games where it really is nice to be able to just sit and relax, if only for a few short, precious seconds on the oh-so-cold ice surface...ahhhh....Anyway...


Now HERE'S a familiar sight...Me staring at a puck that somehow found it's way into the net...According to the most recent "stats" posted for our league, I end up facing an average of nearly 60 shots per game, which is the highest in the league...Now, I'm not complaining, but when you see pucks at that rate, scenes like this are bound to happen...Understand, though, that there's nothing I hate worse than not stopping the puck...Stupid puck...Screw you!...Screw you to Hell!..Anyway...

So there you have it, kids, yet another completely narcissistic photoblog for your viewing pleasure...You all have a fine weekend, now...

Labels: hockey stuff, Phrickin' Photoblogs, sports

You've no doubt seen the commercials on television, late-night or otherwise, for those "Invention Submission" places which promise that, if you'll merely send them information about YOUR idea or invention, they'll "help you market" said idea. Now, I've personally always been more than a little leery of companies like this. It seems to me that you'd have to be really friggin' desperate, extremely naive, or "both" to want to share the particulars of an invention that YOU came up with that could potentially make YOU rich with someone whom you only just met by watching a television commercial when you really should've just been in bed...That said, I've ever actually had the occasion to "invent" anything, I'm just sayin' that, if I did, I doubt that my first call would be to a bunch of hacks who are only allowed to advertise during the Late, Late Show...

Well, ok...They advertise during the daylight hours as well...But c'mon...

While I was recently in Las Vegas, I witnessed possibly a "metric shitload" of commercials for these inventor's idea submission outfits...In fact, it seemed that every third commercial had something to do with "patenting your invention" or "submitting your idea to industry." Of course, personal injury lawyers, bail bondsmen and seedy slot and keno joints were the main subjects of most of the OTHER advertising I remember seeing on television there...Comparatively, it didn't make the invention folks seem so bad...All of this, I assume, has to do with the "percentage of desperate people" in the las Vegas area...

After all, you have to know your audience...

Anyhow, at one point, Big Al asked me if I had given thought to making fun of the whole "invention submission" idea. My answer was a decisive "not yet," although, in truth, I hadn't really given any thought to the subject as a whole until he said something. After being immersed for a few days in the advertising for these seemingly benevolent corporations, though, I felt that I had no choice but to try with the "making fun." There is a "tweest," however, to my spoofing today...The "tweest" is, in fact, that I decided to do the spoof all "old timey" and stuff...Allow me to "set the stage"...The year: 1912...The scam: Ye Olde Inventor's Clearing House...The inventions: old...The people: Dead by now...You: implored to listen and (hopefully) enjoy...

Now, c'mon...Is that crap the "bee's knees" or what? You all have a fine Thursday now...

Labels: all those funny voices, audio, spoof commercials

As an aside, before we begin: I've been "tagged" for one of those "meme" things by our old buddy Rocket Jones. It's one that will probably make for a decent post, so I AM working on it. For now, though, you get...other stuff...like this:

Chances are, if you're visiting this blog, you possess the ability to "read." Since this scenario IS highly likely, then it's also quite probable that you attended "school" of some sort at one point in your life. Due to this fact, you would then be able to (potentially) remember some of the very early textbooks and/or primers which you would have been exposed to in such an "educational setting." It is my intention to "make fun" of such things...now...

One of the first textbooks which I can remember utilizing to "further my knowledge" was a yellowish paperback titled Phonics Is Fun, which featured a bright yellow cover emblazoned with a picture of a hot-air balloon...I really don't know just why THIS particular book sticks out, mostly since I could already read by the time I got to "school," I don't truly remember getting much out of it. The book did, however, introduce me to certain themes which I later found would be prevalent in pretty much every other basic textbook I would be exposed to up until Junior High...To sum up, these books would always feature primary colors, which I assume was an attempt to appeal to the minds of the most basic of children. In addition to these texts' limited color palette, they would often feature bright, cheerful photographs, or half-assed illustrations, which I presume was another attempt to lure in the younger children, under the pretext of "fun" as opposed to the stagnancy that is "book learnin'." On top of that, these things always featured scenarios that were very foreign to me and my pale, suburban world: Characters with names like "Pablo" and "Maria" who would regularly buy things like apples from "street vendors" and then attempt to divvy up the spoils in a manner which forced you, the reader, to solve their friggin' urban problems for them. Look, Maria, it doesn't look like ol' Pablo wants to be equitable about these apples. Hey, you paid for your half and, since he doesn't feel that you deserve them, perhaps you should take a bat to his knees. That'll surely learn him, and good!

But I digress...

Just as our old buddy Collin has had the (enriching) opportunity to sift through the never-ending supply of really bad clipart which we have here at work and, subsequently, turn said bad clip-art into thought-provoking cartoons, I have the occasion (almost daily) to sift through our "stock photography," very little of which is even remotely up-to-date. Every now and then, I come across a photo which just screams "turn me into something sarcastic." Hey, who am I to ignore the voices, right? That said, I present to you my version of one of those crappy little textbooks which a very young student might be exposed to...You can click it, it gets bigger:


So there you go...I'm not sure that this needs any further explanation, so...Enjoy!

Labels: lame stories, Phun With Photoshop

Hey, look, it's friggin' "Monday" already...This (startling) revelation can mean only one thing: That "one thing" is that the stinkin' weekend went a little too fast...Damn!..That said, I do have a wee tale of weekend-related sporting triumph to relate to you all...First, though, I need to grab a digital shoehorn and retrofit a "happy father's day" message into this entry...Here goes:

Hey, happy father's day, dad!

Ok, it is now the time TO SING THE SONGS OF SPORTING TRIUMPH...or something...heh...Anyway...

On Friday night, my wife and I had some softball to play with the B52 team that we play on...On Fridays...Anyhow, the game was against a team that had, in the past, pretty much "owned" our team...Now, not to brag, but collectively, us B52s are a pretty decent co-ed softball team, so a team that can defeat us on a regular basis is kind of rare...There are, however, certain instances wherein we flat out "can't get our crap together," so to speak...Up until this past Friday, playing against the aforementioned "opposing team" has been an exercise in futility for the B52s, resulting in as many losses as games played against them...As Friday's game got underway, and we played a bit, things started to "not look too bad for us"...We put some runs on the board early and, conversely, were playing pretty well on the defensive side of the ball...I didn't really have occasion to notice much of anything going on outside of the gameplay for a couple of innings. Soon enough, though, I became acutely aware, as did everyone else on the team, of an "fat and obnoxious drunk guy" who was in the spectator area...This particular fella' was somehow connected to the team that we were playing, though he wasn't playing in the game himself...He had, at some point, decided to move past the role of "cheerleader," and began to actually "trash-talk" our team, singling us out when we were at bat, or in the field, laughing hysterically for no real reason, screaming when we went to swing at a pitch, or (in my case) just generally insulting our game play or appearance...Usually, I can ignore people like this and USUALLY the home plate umpire will eventually step up and tell "random obnoxious fan" to either quiet down or leave...

Did you see that? Huh? Did you, in fact, see how I said "usually" in all caps? Ha HA!..That there's FORESHADOWING, man!...

Unfortunately, on Friday, we had ourselves an umpire at home plate who was officiating only his fourth game ever and turned out to be too sackless to call balls and strikes, let alone tell someone behind the fence to "tone things down"...Add to this the fact that his "partner," who was the field umpire, just "generally don't give a shit," our loudmouth fatty friend soon figured that he could act with relative impunity...Not helping matters, Us B52s had ourselves a "pretty bad inning," at one point, in which we allowed the opposing team to rack up 7 or 8 runs. With what appeared to be an insurmountable lead for "his team," ol' chubby was really letting loose, laughing and taunting up a storm, while ingesting (quite possibly) his 12th beer of the evening...I could tell that his antics were wearing on the nerves of some of my teammates, especially the females...I soon decided that something had to be done to "shut his ass up." Now, I couldn't very well just walk up to him and knock him out...That "solution" would just get me in "trouble." Along the same lines, I didn't think that going over to him (sans the hitting) and merely telling him to "shut the fuck up" would work well either, in fact I figured that if I did something like that, it would only add "fuel to his fire." You see, the last thing which you want someone like that to know is that they're getting to you...Still, this turd had to be silenced...Forgive me for being dramatic, but our "honor" was on the line...

We HAD to win the game...I decided, at that point, that if we WERE to accomplish such things, I would have to hit a home run...

Now, I don't normally put THAT kind of pressure on myself before any at-bat, let alone when we're behind, but I knew that, if we were going to rally and win, we would need a boost...I knew, also, that I had to let this jackass know that he was, in fact, hurting his own team by being an obnoxious jerk...I had the whole scenario planned out in my mind: I would foul the first pitch off, which would give "him" an opportunity to begin talking trash to me and, at the same time, give me time to turn around and give him a good "stare down." After that, I would proceed to "nail" the next pitch into a far-away part of the outfield and run like hell, scoring on the play and delivering a very healthy "rude gesture" of some sort to "fat-chops" as I crossed home plate..."Heck yeah," I thought..."that'll shut him up good..."

I then figured that, while the whole scene played out well in my imagination, I should somehow change that "rude gesture" to something a little more...tame...Anyhow...

Speaking truthfully, I figured that it would be a "cold day in Hell" before any "revenge scenario" which I dreamt up would come into being...Heck, I really do tend to be a whole lot of "daydream" and not a lot of "execution," but the game was still going, so I guess I could have a shot at it...Come to find out, in the top of what ended up being the final inning of play, things were, indeed, looking as if I would at least get a chance to fuck up my perfect revenge plot follow through on my "diabolical plan"...I was the second batter up, with no outs, the female who was batting in front of me already on base. Not surprisingly, Chubb-rock was still spewing his inane bullshit...As I took my place in the batter's box, he began berating me, as he had done during my other two at bats in the game. I took a sharp, early cut at the first pitch and sent it foul...This, of course, gave Mr. Fatty occasion to emit a maniacal cackle...I turned sharply and stared directly at him, which stopped his annoying laughter cold dead, a look of shock frozen on his drunken and pudgy face...After giving him the good, hard "stink-eye," I turned back towards the batters box...

Up until this point in the game, I had been trying (albeit unsuccessfully) to look for a "weak spot" in the opposing team's outfield...Earlier in the game, I had been robbed of a hit courtesy of a great play by their left-fielder, so hitting THAT way was out of the question...I also figured that, if I hit the ball in the air to center, the aforementioned left-fielder would probably catch up to it...Since the park and rec changed to a softer-core ball (to prevent injury to players, you see), actually hitting the ball out of the park was unlikely, especially considering the swirling wind which was prevalent on friday night...I ultimately decided that I'd have to "line-drive" the ball, low and hard toward center or right field to even have a chance of hitting this home run I so desperately craved...With all of that self-imposed pressure seated squarely on my shoulders, I made ready for the next pitch...

I should take this opportunity to share a tiny little nugget of information about slow-pitch softball, in case you've never had the occasion to participate in the sport...There are times that the ball seems to hang up in the air FOR-FRICKIN-EVER before it comes down toward you...My last at-bat on Friday evening was one of those times...However, when said pitch (finally) came within striking distance, I swung the bat well, smacking the piss out of the damn thing and sending it on a frozen rope towards left-center field...I then took off like a "bat out of Hell," running as fast as a fat kid with a bad achilles can...As I approached first base, I glanced up and saw that the left-center fielder had let the ball GO BETWEEN HER LEGS! "SHE MISSED THE BALL! MOVE, MOVE, MOVE" my brain began yelling...I saw that the ball had made it all the way to the fence as I was nearing second base and was thinking to myself that there was no way that even that damn left fielder, as good as he was, could recover to back up the play and throw me out...Still, I was anxious approaching third, hoping that I didn't suddenly screw things up...I knew that, if we were to win and, especially, if that fat friggin' loudmouth was EVER going to "shut the Hell up," I HAD to score on this trip around...As I approached third, I got the "go ahead" from the player coaching the base..."Hot damn," I thought..."This really is all coming together"...

I just had to figure out what I was gonna do after I crossed home plate...

Back to reality...I noticed that the opposing team's catcher was crowding said "home plate" as I neared, making motions which suggested that he was about to receive the "ball"...The ball itself, though, never came close to said catcher, nor would it have arrived in time to tag me out...Despite a half-assed attempt by this "catcher" to bump me wide of the plate, I made it home. As I crossed home plate, I could hear cheers from both my teammates and also my family members who were in attendance...I then turned toward my obese agitator and made the cheers twice as loud as I pointed decisively at him, as if to say that what I had just accomplished was for him and him alone...This simple gesture, performed in front of everyone in attendance, rendered him, for possibly the ONLY time in his drunken, pathetic life, "speechless." Yes, our buddy was suddenly a drunk idiot without anything drunkenly idiotic to say...

And, oh yeah..."Holy crap...I actually DID it"...

Apparently, once Tubbs regained his bearings, he DID think of SOME things to say, but I wasn't listening anymore...From that point in the game on, his taunts had no effect on our team...We rallied in the inning and went on to win the game, earning a much-needed victory against a team that has been able to beat us pretty much at will in the past...After the game, I could hear fat chops yammering on about something, still trying to get my attention. I never did acknowledge his existence, but I did hear him squeak somethin' out between his drunken "fuck yous" and "you sucks" that were aimed my way...What timeless words of sage wisdom escaped his inebriated lips, you ask?..

"I was only kidding, man."

Labels: hockey stuff, lame stories, sports, tales of triumph

You KNOW today is Friday...Hell, you can feel it in your bones, smell it in the air and (most importantly) even read it on the calendar. As you know, one of the many things that Friday brings to you is the sheer joy that is the Phrickin' Photoblog...Now, I know that I shirked my duties this past Friday whilst I was off having the big fun in Sin City, but c'mon...I'm posting a photoblog today, so...let's just forget about the past, shall we? Like the Grass Roots said: let's live for today...

And speaking of "today," our theme "today" centers around my wife graduating from one of those stinkin' (well-respected) "liberal arts" colleges with her master's degree. Yes, yes, she's all smart and I'm...well..."not"...Anyhow, as I mentioned in an earlier post, there was family in town to witness the big event. Fortunately, some of this "family" had the foresight to bring "cameras" and were also taking "pictures." it is these "pictures" which I have the good fortune to be sharing with you all...now...oh yeah, click 'em, they'll get bigger.


Sig Heil!
Apparently, the infamous salute depicted here has yet to go out of style in some places...Hey, heil to you too, buddy!..Seriously, I think this was part of the benediction...Or something...um...Aww, crap...I'm probably going to Hell now...Let's move on...


And your guest speaker: Truman Capote...OK, so they CLAIMED that this guy is alumni and a doctor and a writer and develops stories for some hit television show, but they can't fool me...No sir...Begin the thawing of Truman Capote...Hell, the little guy even SOUNDED like him...MOOSE! MOOSE, you IMBECILE! Say your God-damned PRONOUNS!


This kindly old gentleman wandered on stage at one point, donned a cap and gown and began thanking all the graduates for their...service in World War II...or something...He was confused, but they humored him...I hear tell that, after the ceremony, he was lured back to the nursing home with "cookies," kinda like the guy on that crane in Atlanta without the murder and the standoff and the water and the taser...Well, maybe a little with the taser..."Here's a nice cookie...Here's...GET HIM! zap...


I got my maaaster's...I'm smarter than yooooouu...
Boy, she looks happy...You'd think that it took a lot of "hard work" or somethin' to get that degree...Off topic, I think that if I ever had the occasion to go for a master's degree, I'd try my best to write an "antithesis" and see how that went over...Anyway...


The hood, eet chokes me!..
Seriously, this is a great picture...


Here's my wife, after the ceremony, with some of that "family" we were talking about earlier...from left to right, my wife's sister, my wife and Big Al, who belongs to the sister there...It was a bright and sunny day...I had a lot of sunscreen and a big floppy hat on...This is why I'm not in any of today's pictures...But I digress...


And, we close today's Phrickin' Photoblog with one more "family" picture, this one featuring my wife's stepmom, who prefers to be called "stepmonster," my wife and my wife's dad, who, incidentally, was the one who snapped all of the photos featured today (except this one, smartass)...Way to go, "wife's dad." Fine work...

Ok, kids, you all have a fine weekend!

Labels: get outta town, Phrickin' Photoblogs, tales of triumph

A while back, I posted a couple of banners which I had whipped up and entered into Rocket Jones' banner contest...Also a while back, but (obviously) a wee bit after that post, I had posted the fact that I thought I might have WON said banner contest...

Winning rules, losing drools...But we all know this...Anyway...

As it turned out, I DID end up as the beeg weener, as the banner that was closest to mine in votes was slipped in anonymously by Rocket himself...Best part about all this, there was a PRIZE associated with this contest...

Gosh, I love prizes...Who doesn't, right?..

Well, not too long ago, Rocket Jones himself contacted me (via the "email") stating that he had my "prize" ready to send, all he needed was my mailing address...Being the trusting soul that I am (also greedy: c'mon, man, PRIZES) I responded in a rapid fashion with the needed information. While I was recently away on vacation, my prize arrived via the USPS...After I opened the envelope and had a look inside, I realized that I was suddenly in the presence of quite possibly the coolest prize I've ever won, rivaling even the $20 gift certificate I won when I was 9 that I spent almost solely on candy and treats at my local Alco...

Damn, that was a lot of candy...Twenty bucks worth, and them's 1983 dollars!..No wonder I was such a fat little kid...But I digress...

My (completely awesome) prize from the Rocket Man looks like THIS:
click on it to see it beeeger


Now, I ask of you...Is that, or is that not, the coolest...prize...ever?..You may be currently scratching your leetle head, wondering what the prize actually is (probably due to the reflection in the photo). Since I'm nothing if not "helpful," I will tell you what it is...It's a collectible lapel pin of a Quebec Nordiques goalie, fool! It kicks the major ass! Anyone who knows me will know why I feel this way...Come to think of it, even if you don't "know me," you've probably got a good idea...Seriously, look at it! It's so COOL...

Anyway...

I must take this opportunity to say a hearty "thank-you" to Rocket Jones, for handing out the best prizes, bar none. This, kids, is why you should enter contests and stuff.

Labels: hockey stuff, lame stories, sports, Stupid Contests, tales of triumph

As is customary when I've been away and have TOO MUCH CRAP rolling around in my pointy little head, I am (once again) going to blatantly rip off gently borrow the format of everyone's favorite monkey, who is known simply and inexplicably as the Monkey. This is due to the fact that I am just as "lazy" as I am "evil" and, if you are to believe the things which are typed by the likes of Collin, then that makes me much lazier than you...Believe it...

Anyway, here goes...

I just returned home from visiting the Las Vegas area, something which my wife and I are apt to do at least a couple times per year. We've had family in the area for about 5 years now, and it seems that the number of people whom we can visit/stay with/depend upon to cart our lazy asses around keeps growing year by year. My wife's dad, stepmom, and grandmother all live there, and my wife's sister and her man (Big Al) recently purchased a very nice home just up the road from the dad. In addition to that, my friend Andy, who is the copywriter Andy that DOESN'T have a website, lives there now with his wife. It's kind of nice to visit Las Vegas and NOT stay at a hotel/casino sometimes, it helps me avoid two things that I really kind of hate: cigarette smoke and "people."
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Speaking of Las Vegas (we were), it's just so damn strange to be in a place with such gigantic frickin' landmarks. Now, I know that this is nothing new, but I think that I noticed it just a bit more than normal this time since I was a full-time passenger and not a driver. Case in point: you can see "the Strip" from a good number of miles away, but can't actually GET to "the Strip" in a timely fashion from that "good number" of miles away due to the insane amount of traffic and road construction. Don't get me wrong, Vegas has been crowded before during my many visits, but this most recent visit was easily the most crowded I've seen it...
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So, that Michael Jackson guy...Um...So what's with him?
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Remember when I said that I might post while I was away? Remember that? Heh...I...um..."lied."
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I participated in the a poker tournament at the Orleans while I was in Las Vegas. In a strange twist of fate, the same exact hand (Ace-Eight) won me my first pot in this tournament, just as it did when I played in a tournament at the Orleans around Christmastime. Conversly, a wired pair of nines led to my exit from the tournament BOTH FRICKIN' TIMES...Same place, same hand, same result... I think that the lesson to be learned here is NOT TO PLAY NINES...Of course, I'm sure that if I were to FOLD the nines, a nine would come up on the board. Why? Because this is how my luck works. Overall, though, I did better than the last time. It's only a matter of time before I win one of those stupid things...
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Speaking of "not losing" (we kind of were), the Sharks, with whom I play the "hockey," are on a "not-losing" streak. We've tied the last two games we've played in the advanced league at the Chapel Hills Mall. This "not losing" thing is a real confidence booster for the team, it's only a matter of time before everything comes together and we "win" a game.
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We rented and watched a couple of movies while I was in vegas...White Noise, the supposedly spooky film based loosely on the real-life Phenomena that is EVP, was the first rented film that we suffered through watched. Granted, it had it's moments of shock value, but I found the plot to be a little weak and the drama, what there was of it, was not particularly well-developed. You kind of knew who the bad guys (or spirits) were the whole time and the "big payoff" at the end was not that big of a twist...I guess I did like how there was no happy ending at all, for anyone, in this film, but as "horror" movies go, the previews and the commercials I saw for this film turned out to be scarier that the film itself.
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Speaking of "scary," or, better yet, things that turn out to not be scary, the second film that stole two precious hours of my life away I sat through was Wicker Park which appeared to be, if the trailers and commercials for the film are to be believed, a "suspenseful thriller." in the end, though, this film turned out to be anything but. I can easily break this movie down to 3 specific points...Ready? Good... A: If you're scheduled to go to China, you GO TO FRIGGIN' CHINA. You don't turn into psycho stalker boy, looking for your "woman," who ain't even still your woman, you just go...to...China...Of course, there wouldn't have been a movie if he DID go to China, but that would've been just fine with me.
B: If you're a psycho stalker girl who's been doing everything she can to get to psycho stalker boy who's been trailing your friend, obsessed with HER the whole time you've been obsessed with HIM and you've finally gotten said stalker boy to notice you, you should probably take the opportunity and simply kill your friend. I mean, really, she gave up WAY too easy...Again, I thought that this chunk of shit movie was supposed to be suspenseful! I really don't think that the Star Wars series would've had the lasting appeal that it does if ol' Darth Vader just simply said "ok, whatever you wanna do, I'm gonna just go hang out" when Luke refused to come to the dark side...Or whatever, I dunno, I don't like Star Wars...Anyway...
C: Without "flashbacks," this movie could've easily been nothing more than a half-hour sitcom, even if you threw in some commercials. The way this story was told was not "innovative," nor was it "clever." It was, in fact, "fucking annoying." I hate you, Brandon Boyce...You too, Paul McGuigan...
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Have a fine Tuesday, kids!

Labels: get outta town, hockey stuff, lame stories, poker, sports, stagnation, tales of triumph

So I was thinking that I should probably post something today that would say, in no uncertain terms, that I may not be posting for a while. I'm not exactly sure how I should word it, or even where to start, but I really feel compelled to say it, mostly so "people" (that's you, by the way) don't start abandoning my wee blog for fear that I've just up and died or (God forbid) slept through my alarm again. Ah-heh...no, it's nothing like that...heh...Also: this "grass" you've heard about? It's NEVER greener... Never...Keep that in mind...Them other "blogs" is nothin' but trouble...Anyway...

So, kids, I may not be posting for a while...

This is due to the fact that I'm taking some more time off of "work" and, seeing that "work" is where most of the "magic" happens, my contributions here may be quite sparse until a very special time known only as "next Tuesday." I am going to be a little more proactive, though, and set things up so that I can do a little posting while I'm away (even perhaps that photoblog phriday thing which everyone loves so much) but, just in case things don't go "as planned," I thought it'd be best to give a heads up...

Consider yourselves "heads upped."

In other news, I updated my links (just a bit), changing the order some, shuffling at least one to the "retired" pile and adding at least one new blog link to the "I Read These" section. Now, it's obvious that I'm not nearly as organized (or just plain nuts) as that Collin fella, nor do I "get around" the way HE does (that would be like "ol' King Kong," in case you were wondering, which you were), but I can say that I didn't have any trouble updating my linkies, unlike the sheer Hell he got himself into yesterday re: HIS links...Heh...

In addition, it would seem that my sister has tagged, among other people (ok, among ONE other people), me for another of those insipid "meme" posts. These meme things really are the STDs of the internet world, it would seem. As opposed as I am to contracting any sort of "digital disease," I just MAY do it. Maybe. But, like I said, I might not be posting for a while. Who knows, it may have been LONG FORGOTTEN by the time things are back to normal for me (which, in case you missed it, may or may not be "before next Tuesday"). Oh, by the way, my sister was "tagged" for the aforementioned "meme" by a very nice lady. Who's not "bad," or "insipid," in any way. Thought I should say that...Anyway...

In closing, since I may be away for a little while, I shall leave you with one more crude sketch to lovingly gaze upon:

You love crude sketches AND YOU LOVE POPEYE, TOO!...Crude sketches of Popeye are your master!..KNEEL BEFORE THE CRUDE SKETCH!..

heh...um...Anyway, you all have a fine "rest of the week."

Labels: cartoons n' stuff, get outta town, random drawings, stagnation

As I was saying last week, I had another "comic strip" to complete, again on short notice. It's growing more and more obvious that (cut becausse I'm skeered of someone reading this), in addition to that, pulls Collin away for some time since he helps me "ink" the individual characters. I'm doubting that, when the (again, cut because I'm a wuss). With that said, I do have a new one to share and, since I don't have anything else to post...Here it is:
click-it gets bigger

While I did draw the toons, keep in mind that I did NOT come up with the script for this, nor did I come up with the names of the "villains."

Oh, yeah, I almost forgot...There's some big tall Herman Munster guy who was begging for blog traffic last week like a simpering infant would beg for a sweet, milky breast, full of...um...breasty, milky life-giving goodness...I guess...Anyway, If you're so inclined, why don't you visit him and help boost that self esteem of his...He huffs glue, by the way.

Labels: cartoons n' stuff, pointless shit

Hey, kids, it's finally Friday! Seeing as I completely disappointed at least one reader last week due to there not being an official Photoblog Phriday post, I thought it might be nice to make up for said transgression by posting photos today that would be DOUBLY exciting...Double the fun, yeah?..

Or maybe not...

See, like I said, I THOUGHT about it. Unfortunately, since all I could find last night were some (very) random and (kinda) odd pictures to share, what you get today is nothing more than the same crap which I always post. But, like they say, it IS the thought that counts...Yes it is...Ok, ready for the big show? Good, here we go...clickonthemtomakethembiggerandallthatcrap...


What would Phrickin' Photoblog Phriday be without a gratuitous, open-mouth shot of yours truly? Now that I look at this picture, I appear more "skeered" than "happy." Rest assured, though, if I'm makin' that face, I'm most likely filled to the proverbial brim with the "glee." This picture was taken by my buddy James Brown a few years ago while I was working at KKFM. I no longer work at KKFM. I still have the Roy jersey, though...
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Here's a picture of one of the hamsters that my sister and I had as pets way back in the 80s...SO CUTE, THIS HAMSTER!..Look, I TOLD you these pictures were random...Anyway, this particular hamster was mine and was named "Nikolai," after the famed professional wrassler Nikolai Volkoff. Hey, look, you can see some hamster turds in the picture...Great...
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And speaking of Nikolai Volkoff (we were), here is his infamous tag team partner, the Iron Sheik...This picture was taken in 1986 when, as a birthday present, my mom took me (and my sister) to our first live professional wrestling event. Back then, I thought that it was pretty friggin' awesome, being there live...Of course, I haven't watched pro wrasslin' in years...This is most likely because I do not live in a trailer park, nor do I have a confederate flag hanging in my room...Well, not anymore, at least...
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Here we have a picture of your humble blog host in a relaxed position, playing Grand Theft Auto: Vice City...This picture is a couple of years old and, no, I'm not sinking into the LaBrea Tar Pits...I'm lying on our old bed...Thank God the Playstation makes it's home in the living room where we live now...
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In keeping with the "totally random" theme, here is a picture of my wife as a small child visiting with perhaps the most effed-up Santa Claus I've ever seen. What's this guy doin', chewing on his fake beard? Did he hide snacks in there? Is it made of sweet, sweet cotton candy? What's the story? Hey, as an added photoblog bonus, dig the retro TV tray and the weird-ass toy high chair boxes behind ol' creepy Santa there...
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And we end today's photoblog with a heartwarming "family moment" shot wherein I'm rubbing my dad's bald head, presumably for "good luck." Now, I know that my dad appears as innocent and docile as a mewling kitten in this particular photo, but rest assured...His clasped hands are most likely hiding the "I am going to snap your neck, boy" look that he's so famous for...Either way, this picture rules...

Heh..."mewling kitten"...

So there you go, kids, yet another installment of Phrickin' Photoblog Phriday. For those who are wondering, I DID get the newest Captain Kia comic strip done...I may post said comic in the near future, I may not...Regardless, I'm just relieved that the stupid thing is complete so I can start working on...Well, other work...You all have a great weekend, kids!

Labels: Phrickin' Photoblogs, pro wrasslin', sports

and Collin's busy too, because he's helping me. The newest stinkin' comic strip thing that I was told I had to do NOT ONLY needed to be done before tomorrow, but it needed to feature two brand new "villains." Here's the digitally inked version of one of those "villains" now:

He's fat. He's also gonna be colored soon. This is what I do. Yay me.

Labels: cartoons n' stuff, random drawings, stagnation

And so ends, for now, my "vacation" and subsequent "blog pseudo-hiatus." I did get a lot of things done around the house and outside while I was "away," which is good, because it all needed to be done. In addition to that, I pulled a couple of shifts at the radio station over the holiday weekend and slept most of the day on Monday (too much "workin' outside," you see). I went shopping yesterday and had dinner with my parents at their new favorite Chinese buffet...See, I've had to try and keep myself busy, because my wife is gone for a couple weeks, having traveled to Las Vegas to visit her Dad, Stepmom and Sister. I'll be flying out to join her in about a week. Until then, though, more with the "busy." The biggest difference I've noticed, being the only person in the house, is that I keep hearing all manner of "house noises," which I would probably dismiss otherwise. As it stands, while I'm alone, I'm constantly going through the "who's making THAT noise" process. Don't get me wrong, I'm not paranoid, I just always figured that, up until now, it was my wife making all the noise. Now, I realize that's not always the case...

Speaking of not being paranoid...

Yesterday, while I was working in the yard, the wind must've blown open the door that leads into the house from the garage. Now, I know that the thing doesn't always latch properly, but seeing the door ajar when I know for a fact that I closed it before going "out of sight" of the darn thing just didn't sit right with me. As such, (just to be SURE) I decided that I should "clear the house," as it were, going from room to room and checking every possible place where someone could be hiding. I realized that my sheer girth wouldn't be sufficient protection for such a task and, at this time, I don't own a gun. Because of that, I chose as my weapon the first, and most intimidating, item which I could think of: a big-ass Chinese meat cleaver...I'm sure I looked pretty comical, traipsing all over my home, checking in closets and behind shower curtains, cleaver in hand, but, as it turned out, nobody was there to witness such things...It's for the best, anyway...I keep that thing awfully sharp...

It looks like I should get back to work here, I have an ad I need to get proofed by noon AND, now, a new Captain Kia comic to draw...Hopefully, I'll have some actual "content" to share very soon...Have a fine Wednesday, kids!

Labels: indignities, lame stories, radio stories