i challenge any average working dude out there to drop two paychecks on a new fence, buy the materials to paint it, have your paint gun break down on you, watch helplessly as an unexpected rain rolls in, see the project through with the very few moments you have to yourself... and see if you dont understand your dad just a little bit more. the revelation is remarkable.
if your pops is anything like mine, he was the type of dude that would eat the leftovers of the leftovers in the fridge despite the discoloration and pungency. and if you did go out to eat, you could pull some ms. cleo shit and predict what he was gonna order every single time. you could just look for the cheapest item on the menu and be like "you gonna get the fish tacos dad?", and he'd be like "how'd you know?" mad psychic skills. though, occasionally you could catch that twinkle in his eye that revealed he was about splurge, and in that case you look for the second cheapest item. this is the dude that would wear the shit out of your school issued P.E. shirt years after you graduated high school. he could shower in the time that it takes most people to just let the water warm up. he'd curse the $900 quote from the mechanic and fix his debatably "classic" BMW in the driveway with parts from the junkyard. this process would entail him letting you "help" him, which basically meant you would hold the flashlight until you felt like your arm was gonna fall off at the shoulder. he always had a goal and he always met it, but you could never quite grasp his logic for the means of getting to it.
then at some point in time, you land yourself a decent job with solid paycheck, cop a new ride, get yourself a cool little place to call home, find a girl worth keeping, and life is swell. you are living large. life is grand, and you found a way to obtain all these things without having to wear kirkland jeans or arguing with a clerk about a coupon expiration date.
then one day, the faucet leaks. no sweat, you can either run down to home depot and pick up a couple parts or, if the problem is too big, you got enough stashed away to hire someone to repair it. you got this. over time the little house and car repairs pop up and eat away a little cash but youre still living comfortably. then BOOM, you wake up, the fence is only halfway done, you still got a gopher in your yard, your patio roof has a hole in it, the whip is due for an oil change, all the bills are due (except the least costly one just to fuck with your mental), you're hungover, you got deadlines to meet for work projects, that hidden muscle under your scapula is crazy sore, you forgot that it was trash day, and a jehova witness just rang your doorbell...
pops makes a little more sense now. all that shit he did, all his idiosyncrasies, seem a little bit more reasonable. nuking that sad ass looking bowl of spaghetti doesn't seem like such a bad a idea if its gonna save a few minutes and gets you back to working around the pad sooner. the price difference between the steak and the chicken is tabulated in your mind in ounces of paint instead of taste. you're wondering if you got any of them P.E. shirts lying around because your gym/painting/just-gonna-go-to-the-store-real-quick shirt looks like a pack of wolves got to it and you sure as fuck ain't trying to mess up one your nice joints.
shit. pops is a fuckin' genius yo....
dude wasnt cheap. he was an investor with selective spending. he wasnt a slob. he had impeccable time management skills. it wasnt so much that he was disconnected from the world around him, but more so that he was perfectly in tune with his own. today he lives in a dope pad which is pretty much paid for, owns toys for days, surfs as often as a coastal college student, and is just cruising his way to retirement, looking for shit to buy for fun on craigslist. he gritted his teeth early to reap the bennies later. normally the adage, "shit, im becoming dad!" has some negative connotation to it, but i caught myself saying it recently... and you know what? its all good.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Friday, September 3, 2010
the gopher
i have a gopher in my yard. i hate him.
of all the frustrating setbacks that come with home ownership, a gopher in the yard ranks up there in the top five or so. this furry asshole can't seem to grasp the fact that this is my home and not his. i yell at him, "go away fuckin' gopher, i hate you." he doesnt go way. he waits until i go to sleep, then digs a hole to who knows where and leaves a heaping mound of excavated earth in some unsightly place. he once left a mound so big in my front yard that it overflowed into the street, and as luck would have it, my neighbor a few houses up decided to wash his car that day. needless to say, his seemingly harmless dirt pile became an impenetrable levee. though i've joked many times about how cool it would be to have a house with a moat, this isn't exactly what i had in mind. when he's not building an aquatic defense for my fortress, he just carries on digging holes and making baby mountains. it makes for a very interesting game of bocce ball, but even that doesn't make up for the eyesore. he even had the audacity to poke his head up one day while i was working on the car. naturally, i grabbed the jack handle, ran over, and prepared to splatter this fool once and for all. the fucker disappeared. i stood there, metal pipe in hand, waiting to play the adult version of whack-a-mole for fifteen minutes. nothing. and of course, on perfect cue, he pops his head back out as soon as i get back to work. though i didn't decide to waste anymore time on running over there, i must admit that there was a genuine moment that i thought about going into my house, getting my gun, and making it rain hot lead in every direction for three square feet. i refrained, too noisy and i might jack up my sprinkler system. so yes, he's still there and my lawn is destroyed. at least i can reseed the lawn with a nicer looking grass come fall (thats how i justify my utter defeat).
i've gotten some tips: flood him out, use traps, smoke him out, poison him, it goes on and on. haven't tried the traps yet, but thats the next venture. until then, we shall continue our battle. though you may think that his size and blindness may give me some unfair advantage. you are mistaken. he has the luxury of time. when im at work, he digs. when i am asleep, he digs. when i am inside the house, he digs. if i am at the store, gym, or beach, that motherfucker is digging. when i'm blogging...... dammit!
of all the frustrating setbacks that come with home ownership, a gopher in the yard ranks up there in the top five or so. this furry asshole can't seem to grasp the fact that this is my home and not his. i yell at him, "go away fuckin' gopher, i hate you." he doesnt go way. he waits until i go to sleep, then digs a hole to who knows where and leaves a heaping mound of excavated earth in some unsightly place. he once left a mound so big in my front yard that it overflowed into the street, and as luck would have it, my neighbor a few houses up decided to wash his car that day. needless to say, his seemingly harmless dirt pile became an impenetrable levee. though i've joked many times about how cool it would be to have a house with a moat, this isn't exactly what i had in mind. when he's not building an aquatic defense for my fortress, he just carries on digging holes and making baby mountains. it makes for a very interesting game of bocce ball, but even that doesn't make up for the eyesore. he even had the audacity to poke his head up one day while i was working on the car. naturally, i grabbed the jack handle, ran over, and prepared to splatter this fool once and for all. the fucker disappeared. i stood there, metal pipe in hand, waiting to play the adult version of whack-a-mole for fifteen minutes. nothing. and of course, on perfect cue, he pops his head back out as soon as i get back to work. though i didn't decide to waste anymore time on running over there, i must admit that there was a genuine moment that i thought about going into my house, getting my gun, and making it rain hot lead in every direction for three square feet. i refrained, too noisy and i might jack up my sprinkler system. so yes, he's still there and my lawn is destroyed. at least i can reseed the lawn with a nicer looking grass come fall (thats how i justify my utter defeat).
i've gotten some tips: flood him out, use traps, smoke him out, poison him, it goes on and on. haven't tried the traps yet, but thats the next venture. until then, we shall continue our battle. though you may think that his size and blindness may give me some unfair advantage. you are mistaken. he has the luxury of time. when im at work, he digs. when i am asleep, he digs. when i am inside the house, he digs. if i am at the store, gym, or beach, that motherfucker is digging. when i'm blogging...... dammit!
Sunday, August 22, 2010
grandpa
my grandfather is by far the most interesting person i have ever met. when i first started brainstorming through ideas of how to tell his story, i got a headache. initially, i thought to tell some background stories about him, and then tell some stories about how he has affected me and shaped my life. then i realized that world wide web just may run out of digital ink before i finish. though a blog post would never do him justice, i figure i should at least share a few fun grandpa facts. so until i have the book published, let these tidbits be the literary trailer:
-for as long as i can remember, grandpa has had two matching bushes carved in the shape of 8' chickens, with golfballs for eyes, in his front yard.
- i once got into a fist fight with my younger brother. grandpa broke it up and yelled at me because i was bigger. grandpa then took off his belt, used it to pin my left arm to my body, and then said " okay, its fair now. fight." i still won, but little brother did clock me a few good ones.
-grandpa looks like a a dirty, toothless hobo when he's cruising around the house; but when it's party time, he's always the most decked out. three piece suit, hat, teeth and multiple gold rings.
-the cabinets in grandpa's kitchen have golf balls for handles. homemade of course.
-grandpa used to have illegal cock fights in his backyard.
-grandpa would put rooster poop on the christmas lights so the neighborhood kids wouldn't unscrew them and throw them in the streets. this was in the day of the big lights.
-grandpa takes cookies from the buffet. he puts them directly in his pant pockets. no ziplocbag. No napkin. Nothing.
-to stop my uncle from using his car, grandpa chained a two by four to the steering wheel.
-grandpa uses a camping stove to cook. its on top of the house stove.
-grandpa once made his own wine from grapes grown in his backyard. the wine tasted like shit and had chunks in it.
-the other kids had cap guns, we had these things grandpa made from celery that made a snapping sound.
-grandpa got into an argument with my uncle while they were working on a car together. grandpa just smiled and walked away. grandpa waited until my uncle started to put the battery back in and then proceeded to shoot him with the garden hose. i think he tried to kill him.
you cant make this stuff up. i will continue to jot down my memories of crazy grandpa facts and moments. hope you enjoyed the sneak peak. cheers.
-for as long as i can remember, grandpa has had two matching bushes carved in the shape of 8' chickens, with golfballs for eyes, in his front yard.
- i once got into a fist fight with my younger brother. grandpa broke it up and yelled at me because i was bigger. grandpa then took off his belt, used it to pin my left arm to my body, and then said " okay, its fair now. fight." i still won, but little brother did clock me a few good ones.
-grandpa looks like a a dirty, toothless hobo when he's cruising around the house; but when it's party time, he's always the most decked out. three piece suit, hat, teeth and multiple gold rings.
-the cabinets in grandpa's kitchen have golf balls for handles. homemade of course.
-grandpa used to have illegal cock fights in his backyard.
-grandpa would put rooster poop on the christmas lights so the neighborhood kids wouldn't unscrew them and throw them in the streets. this was in the day of the big lights.
-grandpa takes cookies from the buffet. he puts them directly in his pant pockets. no ziplocbag. No napkin. Nothing.
-to stop my uncle from using his car, grandpa chained a two by four to the steering wheel.
-grandpa uses a camping stove to cook. its on top of the house stove.
-grandpa once made his own wine from grapes grown in his backyard. the wine tasted like shit and had chunks in it.
-the other kids had cap guns, we had these things grandpa made from celery that made a snapping sound.
-grandpa got into an argument with my uncle while they were working on a car together. grandpa just smiled and walked away. grandpa waited until my uncle started to put the battery back in and then proceeded to shoot him with the garden hose. i think he tried to kill him.
you cant make this stuff up. i will continue to jot down my memories of crazy grandpa facts and moments. hope you enjoyed the sneak peak. cheers.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
pre-workout supplements
do i take them? oh yes, i surely do. am i any more fit because of them? that's highly debatable. thats not to say that the glucuronolactone or coenzyme q10 in the 314gram tub of "white flood", which i purchased for $29.99, doesn't hold any physique sculpting value. yet, it does raise the question of what these ingredients actually do and how efficient they are. the pudgy twenty-two year old with his chest out and coat hanger stance working the counter of your local supplement store will tell you that all of these ingredients are essential to obtaining real results. who are we to question? he speaks like a chemist and makes a whopping $9.00 an hour. the guy is legit. after nodding in agreement for fifteen minutes while muscle boy compares and contrasts products in a rehearsed manner, the average consumer has already made their decision. this decision is based on two things: budget and which product has the most badass name. white flood, no explode, jack'd, jet fuel, fusion force, chuck norris spluge... its endless.
so i ask myself, "why do i take them?" the answer is quite simple. its easy to stir the powder into water and down the sweet raspberry beverage. what's not easy, is justifying sitting on my ass after having the drink. i've never once, after the last sip, said to myself "that was tasty, i think ill go goof on facebook for an hour." after drinking "white flood", i've pretty much bound myself to some mythical must workout contract. the energy boost, i suppose, is a plus... but im twenty eight and healthy, i dont need it. i enjoy being fit. i don't always enjoy the gym. i literally have to put myself in an ethical dilemma some days just to muster up a little motivation. but whatever, i get it done.
just as the ugly girl wears her expensive cosmetics and is still pretty ugly, i drink my pre-workout supplements and am still relatively skinny. in the right light, we both might look a little better, but at least thin is in. ugly girls aren't real people.
so i ask myself, "why do i take them?" the answer is quite simple. its easy to stir the powder into water and down the sweet raspberry beverage. what's not easy, is justifying sitting on my ass after having the drink. i've never once, after the last sip, said to myself "that was tasty, i think ill go goof on facebook for an hour." after drinking "white flood", i've pretty much bound myself to some mythical must workout contract. the energy boost, i suppose, is a plus... but im twenty eight and healthy, i dont need it. i enjoy being fit. i don't always enjoy the gym. i literally have to put myself in an ethical dilemma some days just to muster up a little motivation. but whatever, i get it done.
just as the ugly girl wears her expensive cosmetics and is still pretty ugly, i drink my pre-workout supplements and am still relatively skinny. in the right light, we both might look a little better, but at least thin is in. ugly girls aren't real people.
Friday, August 13, 2010
hiccups
ahhhh yes, the inevitable nuisance which we are all, at some point, affected by. no matter what your personal belief is in the matter of human creation, i can tell you this: they or it did pretty good overall, but in the area of useless human body tendencies they definitely botched it. there is no other bodily glitch quite as useless and annoying. at least with the "out of nowhere eye-twitch", you can use it for entertainment or comedic value. "dude, dude, dude, dude, dude, check it out...... my left eye is twitching like crazy. do you see it? can you see it? there it goes again. did you see it?" and we all get a laugh and say our twitchy-eyed friend is gross. the raising of the hair on the arms or the back of the neck, also seemingly useless. for what it's worth though, after trending the occurrences you can use these moments to gauge how good someone sings, whether or not you're cold, or how bad you have to take a crap. hiccups on the other hand, hold zero value. that is of course, unless you enjoy being pointlessly interrupted and being viewed by others as a floundering baby seal. hiccups suck. pun slightly intended.
even the so called "cures" for hiccups are a bit punishing. hold your breath- okay? so when do i breathe again? before or after i pass out? drink a lot of water- im not thirsty and we still have a thirty minute car ride home. eat a spoonful of sugar- diabetes runs in my family you ass. have a friend scare you- one; if i know someone is gonna scare me i wont get scared. two; if you succeed in scaring me, i just may punch you. so i'm free of hiccups, but now i have to deal with a troubled friendship. just great. the remedies are never enticing. you never hear "oh, you have the hiccups? get a massage" or "hiccups eh? have you tried going down a waterslide?"regardless, even if the road to hiccup freedom is rough, do as you must. there's nothing more disturbing than the person who chooses to carry on with their conversation, even in the presence of an audible diaphragm blast every three words. not only is it rude, its super weird.
although the chances of the hiccup pill (or better yet, spray) ever being produced are slim to none, we can still dream. and until that day comes we will continue to see the hiccup be the cause for unintentional fragmented sentences, spilled coffee, awkward body jerks, and maybe even sharts. death to the hiccups.
even the so called "cures" for hiccups are a bit punishing. hold your breath- okay? so when do i breathe again? before or after i pass out? drink a lot of water- im not thirsty and we still have a thirty minute car ride home. eat a spoonful of sugar- diabetes runs in my family you ass. have a friend scare you- one; if i know someone is gonna scare me i wont get scared. two; if you succeed in scaring me, i just may punch you. so i'm free of hiccups, but now i have to deal with a troubled friendship. just great. the remedies are never enticing. you never hear "oh, you have the hiccups? get a massage" or "hiccups eh? have you tried going down a waterslide?"regardless, even if the road to hiccup freedom is rough, do as you must. there's nothing more disturbing than the person who chooses to carry on with their conversation, even in the presence of an audible diaphragm blast every three words. not only is it rude, its super weird.
although the chances of the hiccup pill (or better yet, spray) ever being produced are slim to none, we can still dream. and until that day comes we will continue to see the hiccup be the cause for unintentional fragmented sentences, spilled coffee, awkward body jerks, and maybe even sharts. death to the hiccups.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
citizens arrest
in a day and age where people can be found doing despicable things, people can also be found committing acts of greatness. with that said, there lies the possibility of moments, when the stars align, where both events can occur simultaneously in the same spot...
not-so-official guide to making a citizens arrest:
1. catch a fool slippin'- witness a crime in first person as its going down. base your decision as to whether or not a crime is taking place solely on what you see. leave all assumptions aside. sometimes righteousness looks shady and sometimes mischief looks kosher. visual fact; that can be your only resource.
2. pause for a reality check- ask yourself these simple questions before you make tomorrow's newspaper: is the crime big enough to warrant me getting involved? (don't go fuckin' batman status on somebody for littering), is anybody in danger? can this fool kick my ass? does this fool got some dudes playing lookout that will come kick my ass when i aint looking? how is this thing gonna play out when the fuzz arrives? if after all that, everything checks out, roll your sleeves up friend... its about to pop off.
3. say some outlandish shit to the perp in an attempt to stop him/her- "ay motherfucker, quit that shit!", "stop right there bitch!", "what the fuck you doin' asshole?!", or "break yo self foo!!" all can serve as great pleasantries to get mister or misses wrongdoer's attention when said in an authoritative tone. whatever you say, be creative and sound like a super hero. this is your chance to end the situation simply with words. tell baddy mcbadperson that they must stay until po-po gets there. since this probably wont work, prepare for the physical portion of the scenario...
4. detain your perp- the events in this process can range widely. foot pursuit. wrestling match. submission by the perp. submission by you. one hitter quitters. you getting shot. who knows? just remember to not use excessive force. again, do... not... use... excessive force. in this lawsuit crazy world, you don't wanna catch a case for trying to be the poster boy for street justice. in other words, don't use the judo chop to the neck when the ankle kick will suffice. after you've used your physical prowess to subdue your bad guy/girl, pin them down. try to stay away from makeshift restraints; once again- lawsuits.
5. hit up the boys in blue- use the celly or tell a witness to call the local authorities. keep your villain pinned until the mustached officer arrives. on average it should take them as long as it takes to get to the local winchell's from your current location for them to arrive. be prepared to tell the cops everything that went down and keep it strictly to the facts. avoid asking the officer if he knows that he smells of coffee and has raspberry preserves on his lapel. he knows.
6. begin your legend- have your crew over for beers and tell them a ridiculously inflated version of your good deed. post it on facebook. tweet it. make a webpage. hire one of those message writing planes. tell the ladies at the bar. write a book. soak up the recognition dear friend... you deserve it.
kinda sorta disclaimer:
im not a lawyer or a cop. i don't even like cops. i don't know any lawyers, but i probably wouldn't like them if i did. either way, they probably wouldn't condone the actions mentioned in this post even though i did do a few minutes of research on the subject. but hey, if its your day to be a hero...
not-so-official guide to making a citizens arrest:
1. catch a fool slippin'- witness a crime in first person as its going down. base your decision as to whether or not a crime is taking place solely on what you see. leave all assumptions aside. sometimes righteousness looks shady and sometimes mischief looks kosher. visual fact; that can be your only resource.
2. pause for a reality check- ask yourself these simple questions before you make tomorrow's newspaper: is the crime big enough to warrant me getting involved? (don't go fuckin' batman status on somebody for littering), is anybody in danger? can this fool kick my ass? does this fool got some dudes playing lookout that will come kick my ass when i aint looking? how is this thing gonna play out when the fuzz arrives? if after all that, everything checks out, roll your sleeves up friend... its about to pop off.
3. say some outlandish shit to the perp in an attempt to stop him/her- "ay motherfucker, quit that shit!", "stop right there bitch!", "what the fuck you doin' asshole?!", or "break yo self foo!!" all can serve as great pleasantries to get mister or misses wrongdoer's attention when said in an authoritative tone. whatever you say, be creative and sound like a super hero. this is your chance to end the situation simply with words. tell baddy mcbadperson that they must stay until po-po gets there. since this probably wont work, prepare for the physical portion of the scenario...
4. detain your perp- the events in this process can range widely. foot pursuit. wrestling match. submission by the perp. submission by you. one hitter quitters. you getting shot. who knows? just remember to not use excessive force. again, do... not... use... excessive force. in this lawsuit crazy world, you don't wanna catch a case for trying to be the poster boy for street justice. in other words, don't use the judo chop to the neck when the ankle kick will suffice. after you've used your physical prowess to subdue your bad guy/girl, pin them down. try to stay away from makeshift restraints; once again- lawsuits.
5. hit up the boys in blue- use the celly or tell a witness to call the local authorities. keep your villain pinned until the mustached officer arrives. on average it should take them as long as it takes to get to the local winchell's from your current location for them to arrive. be prepared to tell the cops everything that went down and keep it strictly to the facts. avoid asking the officer if he knows that he smells of coffee and has raspberry preserves on his lapel. he knows.
6. begin your legend- have your crew over for beers and tell them a ridiculously inflated version of your good deed. post it on facebook. tweet it. make a webpage. hire one of those message writing planes. tell the ladies at the bar. write a book. soak up the recognition dear friend... you deserve it.
kinda sorta disclaimer:
im not a lawyer or a cop. i don't even like cops. i don't know any lawyers, but i probably wouldn't like them if i did. either way, they probably wouldn't condone the actions mentioned in this post even though i did do a few minutes of research on the subject. but hey, if its your day to be a hero...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)