Times are a Changin'

I haven't supported this blog in quite a while now, but have no fear. I am now featured on another site that you may or may not enjoy.
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Huffing made easy.

I can honestly say that I have never thought of sucking on a can of computer duster, but whatever floats your boat, I guess. What happened to the good old days when people would just "Spark the Owl", "Smoke a Bowl", "Torch a Fatty", or "Dance with Mary Jane"?
New druggies really give good, old fashioned, stoners a bad name. Check it out. This was a compilation from a reality intervention show. Enjoy the freak show.

Love is blind.

No joke, it really is. I’m not speaking about how a young woman in love is blind to the jerk they share their bed with, or the fact that he hasn’t had a job in 5 years and is living with his parents. That is true enough, but I am speaking quite literally, that love makes you see something visually different than other people see.

I never would have agreed with this hypothesis until it happened to me. My daughter was born severely premature. When she finally came home from the NICU, her hair had all fallen out and she was still only 4lbs after months and months of all kinds of hell and triumph that I won’t go into here. I watched her grow and develop from 1lb 9oz to that beautiful 4 pounder. I was holding her one day and was staring at her little face and mentioned to my brother-in-law how I was amazed that some people have the ugliest kids and don’t know it. He says “Well, yours isn’t exactly winning any beauty contests…but she has been through a lot, and that is to be expected.” I was floored. I honestly saw the cutest little one in the world when I looked at her. Was he blind, or was I? Eight years have passed and I look back at those pictures and see a baby that had many medical issues and can almost understand how someone used to seeing a chubby infant would think my child looked skinny and sickly….almost. It has never crossed my mind that she wasn’t always adorable, except for that one comment by my brother-in-law.

Another example is a woman I saw through social circles many, many times. I would giggle to myself that she looked exactly like Aughra from The Dark Crystal (note the picture above). Then, my wife and I got to know her and her family and we all became quite good friends. We have now known her for seven years and I really don’t see it anymore. I remember mocking her, but now her hideousness has been reduced exponentially. I would say she is of average attractiveness like anyone. Seven years ago, I didn’t see that at all.

This is really a remarkable thing. Why can feelings change the lines and colors that our eyes take in? How can an emotion bend light? I really don’t know the answer, but I do know that when every parent says their kids are the cutest in the world; they aren’t lying. To them, the really are. To all of those women who want the light off because of a few extra pounds, know this: if your lover really loves you, his eyes don’t see you the way you think they do. Shapes are shifted and light is bent by a process that boggles the mind.

Bigfoot has been found!

Well, it is official. Bigfoot has been found and currently resides in redneck’s freezer. He is always in the last place you look. The undeniable photographic evidence shows a 7 foot 7 inch 500 pound Bigfoot stuffed in a small chest freezer. I say small chest freezer because a second picture later released shows three 5’5” studs standing next to it, and the freezer is pretty much dwarfed. That makes sense though, because you can really fold up the big guy, especially after the rigor mortis sets in. The other interesting part of the photo is the fact that it says it is a picture of a thawed Bigfoot. Correct me if I am wrong, but does thawed mean it was frozen, but now is not? Doesn’t the freezer do the freezing? …and it is still in a freezer, as we can see. I know people get that word mixed up. I can’t tell you how many times I have had to murder someone because they asked me to dethaw something from the freezer. It is already frozen moron, if I dethaw it, it only becomes more frozen. That’s right, more frozen, it gets way colder when you put it back in the freezer. Sorry, I digress, one may want to keep that bad boy on ice though, cause he is gonna be a little ripe if you keep him thawed. I included the pictures below.













The three geniuses had a press conference on Friday where they had planned to release the DNA testing results proving the rolled up carpet with a Chewbacca mask stuffed in a freezer is really a Sasquatch, but it seems the data wasn’t quite ready. Surprise, surprise. More info was uncovered though as they now say that they had a camcorder with them on their hike and they have some video proof of a family of Bigfeet…Bigfoots…Bigfooties that actually stalked them. I was a skeptic before, but after seeing a photo released from this footage, I am a believer. I am a little ashamed to admit that after seeing the freezer photo and reading the size specifications, I was worried they had actually accidentally bagged Patrick Ewing.

Anyhow, click HERE for the remarkable photo of one of the stalking creatures that puts a big foot in the mouth of all skeptics.

IT Guys Rock

IT guys..you rock! I'm a computer geek myself, but there is a whole other class that I like to call the computer-douche. No where else in the world will you find 300lb, pimple faced asses so full of themselves and their "knowledge". Knowledge that only came to them by way of dateless Friday nights and countless hours entrenched in "Guild Wars" building up their level 77 Paladin Shadow Mage.

This is a long one, but classic. The more you work with computers, the funnier you will find this. Stick it out for the duration. It is worth it.

Hells Ya

That's what I am talking about. The only thing that would have made it better is if it was the opening dance scene and he dumped water over his sessy bod....in slow-mo stop-mo.

EBay Ruined Everything

I used to be a collector, a psycho really. I loved the hunt, the acquisition, and the placement of the piece in my collective puzzle. I collected toys and sports cards. Don’t say it, I know. So when EBay came around, I was thrilled. No longer was I confined to local shops, the world was opened like monstrous floodgates and I was there for the buying. I filled my collections, found the impossible to find, and watched as package after package of the previously impossible was delivered right to my door. Oh I paid handsomely for much of it, but it was worth it. It was a passion and an investment, well come to find out, a passion anyhow.

Then came the problem. Those flood gates were opened up to everyone else too. Before, if you walked into a card shop and found a Jerry Rice rookie card on the shelf, it was quite a find. You had to find the shop and be lucky enough to find the card there too. Now, everyone’s PC was linked to the same shop and there were always 20 or so of every rookie card always on the shelf. All of the sudden, it wasn’t that great of a find because they were always available. Owning the card wasn’t enough. You needed it in pristine shape, with the picture centered and the borders square. Mint didn’t mean mint any more. Mint had ridiculous requirements, and the near mint became worthless.

This happened with all of the collectable toys too. As EBay got bigger, everything became more and more available and hence more and more worthless. I have thousands of cards that literally are worth less than the paper they are printed on. I don’t see that ever changing in my lifetime. All of my toys are just toys, despite the amount I paid under the pretense of collecting. They are worth less than they were when you could find them on every Kmart shelf. Thank you, EBay.

Go take a look, even the most coveted collector's items in history are all sitting on EBay right now waiting for a bidder. Mickey Mantle rookie, there are three for sale right now. Go get one. Your Terry Bradshaw rookie you have been keeping for the last 30 years is worthless, because it is considered C8+ grade as the manufacturer didn’t get the card cut exactly right. Your card protector is worth more than the card in it.

EBay is a cruel mistress. I thought it was the greatest thing a collector could ever want, but by its very nature, it killed collecting. Oh, don’t get me wrong, they had help. George Lucas did his part too.

Old Dogs are a Dying Breed

I am not that old, but I sure feel disconnected these days. Nostalgia has been washing over me and I feel like an old man with archaic ideas. Here are a few of my thoughts.

Points and condensers are a thing of the past, but what about the old “Condenser trick”. You know, you grab a condenser, ground the body on the frame of the car, pull a plug wire and with the engine running, arc a couple thousand volts into that bad boy. Throw it to a buddy and when he touches both ends…Yowzer. That is a shock. It is a classic…and it is gone.

Muscle cars – No 4 cylinder car is ever going to be a muscle car. Displacement, noise, and power are prerequisite. I know, I saw The Fast and the Furious and your Rice-burner may blow my doors off, but a muscle car it is not, and will never be. Remember when you bragged about your cam and carb? No, I guess you wouldn’t.

Semi-Classic movies – Everything is getting remade, which makes the original obsolete or at least tainted by the remake. Another 10 years and nobody will ever remember Jamie Lee Curtis as the “Queen of Scream”. Rob Zombie did a much better job with Halloween…but in doing so, he buried history. Even the movies that don’t get remade have crappy sequels. Disney classics have cartoon TV series and 16 sequels that make the original masterpiece nothing but a little white noise in the monstrous engine that is marketing. BTW, if you didn't know, Zach Effron is Ren in the new Footloose remake....way to kill a classic with a High School Musical nightmare.

Oak Furniture – What the hell are people going to buy as antiques 100 years in the future? “Next up for auction is this classic do it yourself oak veneer desk from Wal-Mart that remarkably still has the cardboard backing intact….do I hear $4?” Here’s an experiment, go to Oak Express and try to find anything that is solid oak. You won’t find it, they may tell you it is solid, but if you look, only the trim is solid wood. “Packing significant lumber” means something entirely different these days.

Big Mac – Remember when a Big Mac was big? Compare that to the Double Six Dollar Burger from Carl’s and it isn’t even a warm-up. Perception is an amazing thing. No wonder our kids out weigh us by the age of seven.

Gym class – Back in my day we were required to do push-ups, sit-ups, and run to pass the class. Now, I actually have an in-law whose child is taking her high school gym class via internet. No joke. She doesn’t even go to a gym, or a school.

Military – Remember when the military kicked your ever-loving ass to train you. Made you enter a gas chamber until you puked blood so you knew the effects of gas. Spit in your face and made you a hardened fighting machine. Now they can’t even get in your face without fear of a lawsuit. They are a politically-correct, equal opportunity employer,. So you can’t run a mile, come on in, we’ll find something for you. Call me crazy, but I would prefer the physically elite as my country’s bodyguard.

Grades – I read an article where some schools have forbidden red ink being used to correct tests. They say it has a bad association for the kids and seeing the red marks makes them feel bad. Way to prepare kids for the vicious world out there you idiots. When they are out of a job, I wonder if they will ask the bank not to use red ink when describing the negative $600 balance in their checking account. It should make them feel better.

Yellow Pages – Remember when it wasn’t just a link on the internet?

These are just a couple of things that make me fear for our future and pine for our past. I won’t touch on current music because if you have ears, you already know. Wow, if I am this disconnected by 32, I’m going to be insufferable by the age of 50.

Damn You Vacuum Man!

Five years ago I needed a new vacuum cleaner for the house, so I start checking the local stores to find something to replace the ol’ Phantom Fury. After talking with a friend, I head down to a little, independent vacuum salesman with a tiny shop in the worst part of town. When your vacuum dealer is wedged between an auto body paint supply and a pawn shop, and across the street is the porn store, you might want to keep driving. Nonetheless, I stop and head inside to see what he has.

I couldn’t imagine what this guy could offer because, let’s just say, if he sells one vacuum every week, he is probably ecstatic. I find a Hoover and he sells me on the 5 years of free bags and 2 years of in-house warranty including free belts. Free belts?...You kidding me? He is also a repair man, so I think it might be nice to have a local place to drop it off if we have problems. Plus, 5 years of bags? That is a whole lot of free bags. (BTW: He strongly opposed the bagless vacs and I listened.)

I head up to the counter and pay and then ask for my bags. Then it hits he…he has no intentions of giving anyone 5 years of bags, and here’s why. He hands me a little punch card with 10 circles on it. In order to get your free bags, you must come in for a single package every six months. My months were Jan. and July. If you don’t come in during those months, in the years indicated on the punch card, you are out of luck. Further, he will keep no record of your purchase, so you must have the original punch card to get your bags. I’ve already paid, but am a little angry that he is setting up a seemingly impossible scenario.

How often do you think about vacuum bags? Can you keep a punched business card for 5 years? Of course not, nobody can…but me. I decided right then and there that this guy wouldn’t beat me. He sold on me on something and then, like mail-in rebates, set up so many hoops to jump through that nobody could negotiate successfully. He had no idea who the hell he was dealing with.

So my wife and I make a vow right then and there to beat the vacuum man. We had our months marked and took in that raggedy little punch card every 6 months for 4 ½ years. We had some close call, hitting the last week, if not the last day of the month. I could see the disgust in this eyes every time we walked in for free bags and didn’t buy a thing. It was a thing of beauty. I had him on the ropes, we were so close.

But alas, we lost. Yesterday, August first, my wife calls me in horror.

“I forgot the vacuum bags” is all she says. She didn’t have to remind me that July was our month, gone, never to return, no more bags for you.

“Nnnnnnnnnooooooooooooooooooooooooo!” I shriek, as the receiver drops from my shaking hand.

The vacuum bag Nazi won. He knew it the whole time. Game over.

Vacuum man, I’ll see YOU in HELL!

You Can't Go Home Again.

I went to my hometown last weekend for a wedding and did a little nostalgic site seeing. Wow, things change. I cruised by the house I grew up in and it now resides smack dab in the middle of trailer trash alley. I tried to turn around in the cul-de-sac but the mountain trash had so many cars lined up on the street that I had to do a three point turn on the circle drive. I glanced over at my old buddy Dusty’s house and it is now a run down pile of garbage. It’s funny because I always thought it was so nice compared to our house. I looked through the fence that was missing most of the pickets to see a hoodless Fiero sitting in the back yard. No, there isn’t an RV access to the back yard. Why do poor people have so many cars? Where do they get them and why do they keep them. Cars on blocks in the yard is a cliché….someone should tell these people that. The entire town is comprised of people stuck in the 80’s driving cars from the 70’s. I guess having an emissions test does more than cut down on the smog, it also cuts down on the 1972 Chev. Blazers that are missing the hart tops too.

I also noticed that abundance of 70’s vintage home-built, wanna-be, monster trucks where the mullet clad driver had his 15 year old mate sidled right up beside him in the middle of that bench seat. Seat belts be damned! I honestly haven’t seen this driving phenomenon since 1987.

I had several hours to myself so I hit more of the old haunts. I went to the bowling alley that was a favorite hang-out. Noon on a Saturday and not a soul to be found. I went to the Skateland, to see if it was still around. It was, but not a person there either. The whole ½ of the town that I spent most of my childhood was now ghost-like and abandoned. I went to my Junior High and hiked up to the track where I spent so many nights trying to shed my blubber. It was cracked and old and the only person out there was practicing Frisbee. Alone. Frisbee is a two person game at least; unless you are really, really sad and lonely. Maybe he was getting his chops up for a big game later. Oh, and he was at least in his 40’s. Then, I headed to my old elementary school and it was still close to what I remembered with the exception of the four add on buildings and a parking lot where the soccer field used to be. Kids don’t need to run when you can get a couple dozen more cars in there. Of course, I wouldn’t let my kid walk to school in that neighborhood these days either.

Even the park that was famous for its WWII tank had changed. The tank is gone and was replaced with a skate park. Those WWII guys are all almost dead anyhow, who needs to remember that crap when you can have a sweet-ass skate park for the little baggy pants bastards.

I tried to go down to a fish farm in the canyon where I used to practice my fly fishing casts, but it is now obviously owned by Randy Weaver’s extended family as is it plastered with No Trespassing signs and threats of death, dogs, and guns.

As an auto parts delivery driver of yester year, I also ran a couple of my old routes to see the old delivery spots. Everyone is gone, closed down, and out of business. I realize that it has been 15 years or more, but doesn’t any business have staying power anymore? Every single dealership now has a different name as well. It is like a bizzaro world. Café Ole is now Café Meza, Taco John’s is now Indian Joes. I felt sad, a little mad, and disgusted all at the same time. Luckily, I have XM radio so I could go to the 80’s station to make the feeling of quazi-bizzaro time-travel complete.