Memories

OK Readers this is sooo not my normal post content but I wrote it and I am posting it. Hate it? Too bad. My blog, my rules!

Well one of my favorite holidays has come and gone. Time to put away the styrofoam Jack-o-Lanterns for another 12 long months.

I really like Halloween. The children at my door and their shouts of "trick or treat", The colorful costumes and the smiling painted faces. Mom or Dad standing back on the sidewalk watching their little ones taking what may be their first solo flight into the world. Reminding them to always say thank you before leaving the porch. Perhaps remembering their youth, and feeling a little older, but at the same time proud that their offspring are carrying on a tradition that preceeds even their parents, and smiling.

I noticed that the smallest ghoulies, the first timers, are 100% against putting candy in their bag. They prefer to have the candy in their hands. Maybe they feel that, using the bag is akin to putting the goodies away. Older kids say in the 5yrs thru 8yrs range will use the goodie bag but they will look inside it even though they clearly saw you drop the candy inside. Still older kids above say 8yrs don't seem to care as long as you give them something. They have an agenda, fill this thing up with as much stuff as possible before Mom or Dad says it's time to go home. Their vast experience, gained from Halloweens past, has taught them that this collection process will end all too soon, and they know they need to hit as many homes as possible during the time allowed.

If memory serves, getting home was almost as exciting as being out there in the fracas. I remember dumping out my bounty on the kitchen table and discovering what beautiful sugary treasures I had accumulated throughout the night. There I would sit, gazing upon my loot thinking about how delicious it all looked, my mouth watering at the thought of all that candy.

Now as an adult I can still go back to that special time. I see it in the faces of the little ones at my door and I remember. Thank you little ones, for giving me back a few hours of my youth. See you next year!

Evolution

I sometimes think as humans we often do stuff that hinders our progress up the evolutionary ladder.

I recall from some time ago that a "friend" of mine,(may have been me) had some doggie-doo in his yard. Dogshit in the yard is a problem. While there may have been some questions of whom was responsible for removing the offending turd, it had yet to be disposed of. Being a human I chose to ignore rational thinking and left the dung where it was. I will call this inaction evolutionary failure #1.
The day that I went boldly into the yard to do who-knows-what, I, being evolutionally challenged, stepped in the dogshit that, well...that I knew was out there! This would be evolutionary failure #2
Now, not only do I have dogshit in my yard, it's on my shoe as well. This may have made me mentally reprimand myself for leaving the turd there in the first place, if I hadn't been moving downward at an alarming rate of speed. There I lay in the dogshitted yard with my dogshittty shoe and now a matching dogshit splatter on the ass of my jeans. Yep, evolutinary failure #3.
I have heard people talk about accidents always happening in 3's, so maybe I thought for a second that my "turd-venture" was finally over. I soon figured out though that this was no accident. This chain of events was an exercise in evolutionary failures. The accidents in 3's rule did not apply. Not today, not for me.
I got to my feet and wiped off my jeans...with my hand!

So there you have it. Dogshit in my yard, on my shoe, on my jeans, and finally on my hand. 4 evolutionary failures...Laziness, Forgetfulness, Clumsiness, and Stupidity.
What say you now Mr. Darwin?

ps. Sorry Danica, another poop story!

Halloween

I totally didn't prepare a spooky story for Halloween but here's a picture of my "spooky" house. We think it isn't haunted. :(

Lest there be any question...

A thought occurred to me today. What if my blog-buds think I am all uber-talented with making stuff up to write about. I'm here to say that this is soooo not the case. My imagination is ok at best. I blog about things that make an impression on me during the day. Sometimes I do reminisce about things from the past but it's mostly because I have recently been reminded of the event and possibly have a new "take" on it. As I get older and presumably wiser things tend to look different to me. When I was 8 yrs. old, eating a whole package of Oreo's seemed like an ok idea. Now at 44 I know that too much sugar is bad for me. Might not stop me from eating the cookies, but at least I won't be confused about the belly ache.
My blog posts are for the most part true events, and real thoughts. I know some of the thinking is a little skewed, but thats just how I roll. I look at something, question it's place in my world, and then write about my conclusions. It helps me to understand things if I put them in a "me" perspective. If I can find no reasoning to a particular something, I will usually put my own spin on it. Thereby making it more acceptable to me. (as my lovely wife says, it's all about ME.) Think of it as showing the work to figuring out a math problem. In any case my blog is me. A very good friend of mine reads these posts and would tell you that they are a pretty good representation of how things are processed inside my little mind. So, if you saw it here, there's a good chance it happened. I usually don't even bother changing the names to protect the innocent.
So, anyone still wanna read this stuff? I hope so because I may say something important someday and you will all be bummed out if you miss it. Or I will be.

That Depends,

Not gonna make it...
Not gonna make it...
Room key! Where's my room key?! Son of a....
OK bags down, light, LIGHT...Where's the friggin light?
Belt buckle, button fly open, come on come onnnn! Zipper down, AHhhhh! Made it.

I nearly just peed my pants. 44 years old and already wondering if "depends" might be the way to go. Whats the big deal? So my ass would look somewhat fuller and more voluptu-ass, I don't care that much. A giant ass seems like a small price to pay for freedom. Think of how nice it would be to just stop whatever you are doing and pee in your pants. Babies do it all the time, and almost everyone likes babies. They totally have it made too. If they get tired of crawling they just cry a little and someone picks them up and carries them around. Hungry? Couple of whines and a boob pops in your mouth. Pretty sweet deal if you ask me. (probably why almost no one asks me stuff)

I wonder if the "depends" come scented? I really don't want to be smelling like pee all the time. I guess I could spray some deodorant down there or something. I would always have a soft place to sit and they would be really warm on my man parts in winter. So, lets see...

PROS:
Pee anytime or anywhere I want,
Soft place to sit,
Warm in winter.

CONS:
Bigger ass,
possible pee smell.

Looks like the pros have it, see you at Wal-Mart!

I wonder what will happen if...

ok try this click here

Kreativ Blogger...(sorry to disappoint)

A big thank you to Spot over at whatpassesforsaneonacrazyday She thought I needed to get all personal or something. I will do my best to make her proud.

What I'm supposed to do is write 7-10 facts about me then pass the “Kreativ Blogger’ award on to other favorite bloggers of mine. So read on...if you dare!

1: Not a lot of people know I used to be a redhead.

2: I prefer to think about things a lot before I actually do anything. It often gets me accused of being lazy, not true. I'm all about doing stuff as long as there is a point to it.

3: I do not start trouble. I do however like to make sure trouble stays stirred up. My motto: "sometimes you have to whack the hornets nest with a stick and see what flies out".

4: Currently married to my second wife, who was a close friend of my first wife. Simmer down...I totally met her after the divorce.

5: I don't like my job because it is terribly hard on my family life. I do like my job because it pays ok and gives me awesome benefits.

6: I almost never lose my temper anymore. I was a real hothead when I was younger but now it all seems a little foolish. Makes a lot more sense to me to just go to my happy place when I get irritated. Thank you Pfizer < totally kidding!


7: I'm a horrible typer. (typist?) I hunt and peck my way through these blog posts. This alone should make you be all like "Wow he must spend hours typing these posts for us."

8: My life is pretty much an open book. If someone wants to know something about me they should just ask me. This is really tough because I don't have any secrets that I know of.

9: I'm on facebook but I don't do farms or mafia wars or cafes or aquariums.

10: I really think you are all talented writers and I'm glad you let me hang around with you.

Thats pretty much all I can tell you at this point. If anything new pops up I will probably blog post it on a TMI Thursday. Sorry if this was a let down. I do better with direct questioning. Somebody (Kathryn) should come up with a nice fill in the blanks interview to pass around the blogosphere. Oh and I'm totally keeping the award picture.

Thanks Spot!

I will be tagging some people who are probably way more interesting than me:

1:Cynica
2:Todd X
3:Heather
4:Leese
5:Filmgirl

Loser?

Today I hung out in the shower till my fingertips went all pruny. I know right? It wasn't because I was overly gross or anything, I was trying to remember where I lost my belt.

I sometimes lose things. Maybe it's because, as my lovely wife tells me, I don't pay attention. I'm pretty sure thats not it though. Losing things is pretty universal right? I mean everyone has lost something at some time. Some people will try to pretty up the fact that they lost something by saying "it got misplaced". Totally different dealio. Misplaced is when you will almost certainly find the item in question. Lost is when you pretty much have given up on ever seeing the item again.

So you still think the two words are interchangeable? Try it this way, "I misplaced my virginity". See? Doesn't work. I know it's not a real good example because most of us "gave away" our virginity. There are however several documented cases of people waking up from a drunken after-prom party and being all like, "Hey, where's my virginity?" Mmm good times.

The item I hate losing most in the world is my keys. I can go for days without a wallet or a pocket knife or my watch, but my keys? Ugh. I get physically ill when I can't find my keys. Lovely wife will attest to my lost keys obsession. She actually giggled at me once when I was being a complete baby after having lost my keys.

I'm positive I will never see my belt again. It is lost. If any of you have lost some item and gone all freaky about it I would love to hear your story. Think of it as kind of a support group for people who lose things...does that make us...wait for it....LOSERS? LOL, I don't think so.
Thanks for stopping by! (has anyone seen my keys?)

And the award goes to....

Thank you to Spot at whatpassesforsaneonacrazyday
Sheesh I hope I did this right! She tagged me for this award a couple days ago and I was soooo excited!
So here it goes...



USE ONLY ONE WORD! It’s not as easy as you might think. Copy and change the answers to suit yourself and pass it on. It’s really hard to use only one-word answers so try your best.
Tag 6 other bloggers and let them know that you think they are 'Over the Top'!

1. Where is your cell phone? hand
2. Your hair? grey
3. Your mother? inspiring
4. Your father? genuine
5. Your favorite food? pizza
6. Your dream last night? scary
7. Your favorite drink? beer
8. Your dream/goal? happiness
9. What room are you in? library
10. Your hobby? blog
11. Your fear? Loss
12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? camping
13. Where were you last night? home
14. Something that you aren’t? young
15. Muffins? blueberry
16. Wish list item? sailboat
17. Where did you grow up? kansas
18. Last thing you did? farted
19. What are you wearing? boxers
20. Your TV? off
21. Your pets? cat
22. Friends? best
23. Your life? busy
24. Your mood? neutral
25. Missing someone? Linda
26. Vehicle? expedition
27. Something you’re not wearing? socks
28. Your favorite store? starbucks
29. Your favorite color? green
30. When was the last time you laughed? recently
31. Last time you cried? yesterday
32. Your best friend? Wife
33. One place that I go to over and over? hospital
34. One person who emails me regularly? sister
35. Favorite place to eat? home

For this award I am tagging:

1. Todd X
2. Cynica
3. Kurt
4. Filmgirl
5. BlackLog
6. Leese


Have an "Over the Top" day!!!

Marketing For The Masses...

So I'm watching TV the other night. I know what you must be thinking, "Ol Price sure watches a lot of TV." It's true, and I know it's wrong but when I'm stuck in the hotel for hours there isn't much else to do. (squeaky inner voice...what about the workout room?)
Please stand by while I choke out my inner voice.

So anywhat, there I am watching TV and a toilet paper commercial comes on. It features a mother cartoon bear and her young cub. The cub had apparently just taken a nice dump and mom was checking his asshole to see if he had properly wiped. As it turned out the cub had indeed wiped but there was still a collection of toilet paper dingleberries stuck to his ass. The reason? Sub-standard toilet paper.

Now I ask myself, what marketing genius came up with this? I wish I could have been at the meeting that surely went something like this...

TP Exec: I see our competitors have begun quilting their toilet paper. How are we going to compete with that?

Marketing #1: Well sir we feel you should lower prices and play the bad economy sympathy card.

TP Exec: We are in the business of making money, not losing it! YOU ARE BANISHED!
(at this point a surly looking dwarf jumps out and punches marketing guy in the nuts)

TP Exec: NEXT!

Marketing #2: Sir our plan is to try and copy the quilting process only with a slightly different pattern. Then claim our pattern is more shit absorbent.

TP Exec: Thats the stupidest idea ever. How can one pattern absorb more shit than another...YOU ARE BANISHED!
(again the surly dwarf jumps out and punches marketing guy in the nuts)

TP Exec: NEXT!

Marketing #3: Well sir, (sweating) My team feels that toilet paper dingleberries are a real problem in today's society. We plan to use cartoon bears to show how your product will leave fewer dingleberries while still absorbing all the shit smears.

TP Exec: (dwarf cracks knuckles and smiles) Wait! That just may work. Just before this meeting, my secretary pointed out that while scratching my taint, a toilet paper dingleberry had become lodged under my fingernail. That could have been very embarrasing.
Congratulations boy, you have the account! (holds out hand and marketing guy disgustedly shakes it. Dwarf smells fingers)

And so it came to pass that, a company sells us a product using cartoon bears to play on our fear of dingleberries.
Simply Amazing!

Don't Pet The Turtle!

So my friend Brock has this fascination with turtles, and the turtles may be getting fond of him as well. A little history...
Brock's little girl (who is cool and may grow up to be a ninja) was needing a new pet. The cat was pretty scratchy and irritable so Brock figured a turtle would be a good second choice pet. So began the saga of "Slow Becky". Fitting name for a box turtle I thought. His daughter is smart. Slow Becky had a ton of adventures. She got to take a couple of train rides and stayed overnight in some of our fine railroad approved hotels. She survived the great power outage in the winter of 07/08. But Slow Becky was no spring chicken...err, turtle, she had a lot of miles on her shell and sadly she passed away peacefully one night as she slept.

Brock's house was to remain turtle free for many long months. Last week a new turtle "came" into Brocks life, or rather, into his hand! Apparently he was holding "Slow Becky II" and was presented with a fist full of baby-batter...turtle style! He realized what was happening when he looked down and saw some turtle junk hanging proudly out of the shell and was adequately grossed out. Afterwards, Slow Becky II (which hardly seems an appropriate name given the junk) was looking quite satisfied with himself and like any good man, drifted off to sleep leaving Brock to clean up the gooey mess.
So waddaya think? TMI? Have a nice Thursday!

Meet Hot Singles...

OK I may take this post down in a couple days cause it is soooo mean sounding. I don't even know why I'm publishing it. Yes I do but it is a secret. hee hee!

Dating services. What ever will we think of next. These things are everywhere. My tv is running non-stop commercials, and my junk inbox is full of crap e-mails offering to help me "meet hot singles now!" There is even a TV show now about a dating service that matches women with eligible millionaires. They should call it "Who Want's to Date A Sugar Daddy" Thats right I said sugar daddy. These women don't want just any hard working, honest, loyal, good looking man. They want a millionaire. Pre-requisite of at least $2mil. Really? Simply amazing. Shallow friggin hookers. Thats right I said hookers. I hope they enjoy their handful of cash when they sit on a porch alone watching a sunset or try to keep warm on a cold night knowing their new boyfriend is at that very moment going sack deep in his secretary's ass. Maybe she can call his huge account in the Caymans and see if it laughs at her friggin dry ass jokes. These men say that they are "just too busy" to find love the old fashioned way. Maybe after they make a love connection on the show their new woman hooker can be all sittin alone in his big ass house or feeding his dogs while he is out being too busy. Busy trying to keep her gold diggin ass wrapped in Armani. Sweety pie if you get all your work done I will bring you something extra special, a gift that goes beyond the pre-nup, A scorching case of herpes. Yeah then she will have the good life. I have heard wealthy people say they are afraid that potential dates are only interested in their money, Um, on this show thats a guarantee buddy!
Shame on the people who run these businesses. People will surely do anything to line their pockets. The online dating thing is my favorite scam. People lining up to give some jackass a pile of dough to meet their dream girl. I've been paying attention, the commercials say there are millions of people doing it and yet they always show like the same 5 couples. Hmm 5 out of millions? Wow I'm glad these guy's aren't in charge of landing 747's at OHare. Yeah think about it. Somebody must be paying for all the crap e-mails and the stupid TV commercials. I have a friend who moonlights in the matchmaking business. She says it works but I have to wonder. When I go to a restaurant and try something new it sometimes doesn't look or taste as good as I expected but I eat it anyway. Why? Because I paid for it. I'm not about to be made a fool of. Granted if my food shows up covered in goat hairs I will demand my money back. If my bought date showed up covered in goat hair she is probably a goat. Paying someone to meet eligible goats is at the very least wrong and maybe even illegal. So I will go on my paid for date and do my very best to justify her imperfections. That way I won't feel so ripped off when I get home later and call a real hooker. It's a rip off. Background checks are $39 online so sell that crap somewhere else. And if you feel you need a background check should you really be dating this person anyway? Get over yourselves you are most likely not so friggin important that you need someone else to find you a date. But it does make it awfully nice to have someone else to blame when it doesn't work out huh? You get to tell all your raquetball buddies how you got screwed by some dating service. Maybe they will feel sorry for you and jerk you off after the game. People please stop doing stupid stuff just to make other people rich. It's pissin me off. Really. All of you have a friend who can suggest a date for you, if your friends won't do you that favor guess what, they think you're a piece of shit. If however you have no friends you probably are a piece of shit and you should kill yourself immediately.

Well Done!

I bitch about my job...frequently. The crappy hours the no days off and most of all the boredom. On a recent trip however I decided that I didnt have the worst job ever, or even the most boring one.

Our main line in Kansas City runs past a huge, abandoned building complex. Some of the buildings have missing doors, and most have their windows knocked out. The area is however, for some odd reason unbeknownst to me, patrolled by a security guard. Really? This makes as much sense to me as putting a lock on my garbage can. Anyway the security company has a guy who drives around the area in a little truck all night long, armed only with a spotlight and his razor sharp wit. I call him the "Protector of The Cones!" See there's a little driveway that crosses our tracks and someone has put up 3 traffic cones to prevent vehicles from entering the area. Anyone on foot can enter anywhere, because there is no fence. A good part of the time the security man can be found parked directly behind these cones. Bravely protecting them from, I don't know...cone bandits?

This guy has got to be so bored he wants to kill himself every night. I sometimes wonder if he sits there in his truck staring at the cones, reflecting on his life and his career choices. I guess recently someone else was concerned about his emotional well being because they put one of his cones on our tracks where it fell victim to the steel wheels of a 200 ton locomotive and was mercilessly cut in two!

I figure he immediately realized that his previously impenetrable fortress wall had been breached. This realization almost certainly reminded him that his job as "Protector of The Cones" was important, even vital!

There he was, a lone commander minus one third of his soldiers! His "trio of ultimate security", was suddenly a duet! Being a resourceful leader, he retrieved his now 2 piece cone. He then called upon the "ancient knowlege of security", buried deep in his psyche and quickly formulated a plan. "It's crazy", he thought. "Just crazy enough to work"!
He placed the bottom half of the cone in it's rightful place on the ground then jammed the remainder of it right on top of it! Success!

His cones were back where they belonged. His tiny orange army was standing proud, and his abandoned fortress was once again safe from intruders. All thanks to his quick thinking and years of experience. Perhaps a lesser man would have been afraid. But not he. He has tasted fear and has no appetite for it. He is the "Protector of The Cones"

I imagine at this point he sat back gazing upon his handi-work. 2 full sized cones and one shorter, slightly crooked cone, and gave a sigh of relief.
Fully sated and content, I suppose he smoked a well deserved cigarette and thought to himself, well done security man, well done!

High Skool

I have a class reunion/get together in a few days. 26 years! (I know right? I still look hot! or not) Class of '83. Some of you probably weren't even born yet but here's what was hot:
Music: ACDC, Van Halen, Pink Floyd, Journey, The Cars...
Food: Taco Bell and Sonic (ok those are still hot)
Cars: Anthing that ran well enough to get you up and down the main drag till the wee hours of the morning. Ahh, the memories.

I thought about getting all buffed up for the big gathering, but realized that would require a shit-load of Bow Flex time and several hundred miles on my treadmill. I'm not that energetic. (which I'm now thinking may be the reason I'm not so fit) The best workout I ever got on that Bow Flex was putting it together. Second best was Brock and I carrying it up the stairs in the garage. The treadmill is up there too, didn't want them to be lonely so I keep them together. The last time I was up there they both stared at me, trying to make me feel guilty. It didn't work.

I don't think my old classmates will mind if I have let myself go a little. Hey by the time you get into your mid 40's you have undoubtedly had some stress. I will be leaving my shirt on though, no need for them to know about the yak inspired back hair thing I got goin on.

My lovely wife is forever telling me I need to, "get in shape". I tell her ROUND is a shape. She thought I needed to color my hair once too, till I reminded her that "grey IS a color". She certainly has a lot to put up with. I should maybe buy her a card. Somebody needs to remind me to head to Hallmark and pick out something that says:
I know i'm sometimes a jackass but lots of people think the stupid shit I say is funny and you are so cool to put up with it and I probably am not going to change cause i'm a guy and we don't like change so enjoy this card and when do we eat?

She has put up with my non-sense for over 18 years. Wow thats better than my parents and my teachers. Well, I'm pretty sure my parents still think I'm cool. My teachers, on the other hand, probably start each day thanking their lucky stars that I graduated and didn't send my kid to their school.

High school, what would I do differently if given another chance? Nothing. I had a blast with some of the coolest people in the world and lived to tell the tale. Why would I want to change that?

Thanks Jim!

Today I will be showing my age.
I really like animals. So today I want to dedicate a post to Jim Fowler of the TV show "Wild Kingdom".

As a kid, I often thought, who has a cooler job than this guy? Travelling around the world seeing new places, and working with all those wonderful animals. Jim's job wasn't all peaches and cream though. His other half, Ol' Marlin Perkins was always making Jim do all the dirty work.

Marlin: "While Jim wrestles the angry water buffalo, I will stay in the safety of the hut. Just look at Jim go! See his bulging muscles, and notice the curvature of his taut, athletic buns!"

OK I made up the buns thing, the rest however is fairly accurate if my memory serves. I wonder if Jim ever got wealthy handling all those animals? He should have. I remember seeing him several times on late night talk shows with various snakes and critters. The host of the show usually got creeped out at some point and asked him to put the offending animals away. But not before the audience had a good laugh.

So Jim, this blogs for you! You have given us a lot of warm fuzzy moments and also some really good laughs. You spent a good part of your life teaching us that animals are to be respected, not feared. For these things we say THANKS!

Dear Mr. President...

Ok readers no comedy today just a rant.

Dear Mr. President of Taco Bell. I am from a smallish city in southeast Kansas and I pretty much grew up on your delicious and affordable grub. T-Bell has been a food group of mine as long as I can remember. I like that you can go in there after a night of drunken debauchery and spend $7 to kill a $40 buzz. As a youngster I liked that your location allowed for my friends and I to turn around while "cruising" downtown. As an adult with a stupid job that keeps me out till the odd hours, I like it that your place is almost always open. Now on to the point of this letter.
Earlier this year tragedy struck our town. You saw fit to close our Taco Bell and rebuild it. You probably thought you could make it better and stronger like the Six Million Dollar Man.

The trouble began with the closing of our store. The closest Taco Bell to us is around 20 miles away and when your drunk and hungry, or late for work...you know. But we pulled together as a community and got through it. There was much texting and tweeting and speculation about when our store was going to reopen. There were too many facebook threads to count about what we were going to order and how much we were going to enjoy it.

Well the big day finally came, the store was opened. Much to my dismay I was out of town and so I missed the gloriously long drive-thru lines and the elbow to elbow dining room rush.
Upon my return to town I did get an opportunity to visit my old dear friend the Bell. Disappointment is putting it mildly.

Lets start with the parking lot. I pulled in and waited behind some drive-thru traffic to get into a parking spot. Then I waded back thru that traffic to head inside. Wow did you guys ever screw that up!
The lobby and front counter area looks really cool and updated, but it EB-SO-LUTELY will not flow.
You stand in a loosly formed line to get to point "A" and order your food. Then you have to go thru a bunch of people to get to the beverage station at point "C". With drinks in hand you navigate the mosh pit back to point "B" to collect your food, then scramble exactly backwards with drinks and food in hand to point "D" for sauces and napkins. After you have completed these difficult manuevers, you can assume the role of an offensive lineman and bash through the melee towards the same door you came in only minutes before. At last back in the parking lot food and drinks in hand, you dodge the drunken masses still waiting in the drive-through line and make it (hopefully) safely back to your car. As soon as the Xanax starts to work it's glorious magic, you can begin the task of backing out of the parking spot, narrowly avoiding the drive-thru line, and out of the parking lot.

Mr. President of Taco Bell I recommend 3 things.
First: Read this blog post.
Second: Call your design team and ask them to come to your office for a visit. (They will surely think you are giving them a sweet raise or pat on the back.)
Third and most important: FIRE THEM ALL and send their paychecks to me for alerting you to their incompetence.
Sir, I am confident you will feel better after doing these things.
I will continue to enjoy your products as long as the drive thru line isn't too long. I will not be going back inside your store until the old reliable design is reinstated. If I feel the line at your drive thru is too long I will be headed for Hardees or Sonic. I like their food too so it makes me no nevermind.
Thank You and Have a lovely day.
Sincerely,
Mark Price

TMI Thursday. Oh My

When I was 18 years old it was legal for me to drink beer in my state. By state I mean geographically not my mental state. I was very glad of this because I really like beer. One night some friends and I were doing our usual mon./tue./wed./thur./fri./sat./ thing at a local bar. Just hanging out having a few beers (few is a relative term) and contemplating the irreparable damage that we were doing to our livers and brain cells.
Being from the midwest I was no stranger to having a big nasty wad of chewing tobacco in my mouth pretty much all the time.(Really? Who said EEEeewwww? So, it's safe to assume that you have never had anything questionable inside your mouth? thats what I thought.) For this reason a lot of us young men carried 2 beer bottles. One was for drinking from and the other was for spitting into. So after we had solved pretty much all the worlds problems I reached for my drinking beer and had a refreshing swig of ...tobacco juice! Lemme tell you, thats one mistake you don't want to make twice. I quickly decided that things could only get worse if I alerted my friends to my mistake as they would have undoubtedly given me some hideous nickname that I would still be trying to shake 25 yrs later. I calmly set the bottle down and acted as if nothing had happened. A couple of seconds later the guy to my right picked up his spitting bottle and made a nice deposit into it. Thats when I realized it was the same bottle I had just set down. TMI? Sorry, and have a nice Thursday!

Bad Boys, Bad Boys...

I realize it might totally ruin the shows, but what if the bad guys on reality cop shows just gave up? Let's face it, they aren't getting away. Sure they run and they hide but in the end the police always prevail. They always find the ones hiding in the attic, in the bushes, and on the roof of the house. They also always find the guns and the dope. I wonder if its time for a new kind of show. One where the bad guys are a little less energetic and have seen other cop shows.... Here's the trailer for this years newest police drama...

Car gets pulled over, driver hops out and violently throws himself to the ground. Pretty good so far. He then begins yelling out to police still climbing out of their cars, "This car is stolen and the trunk is full of cocaine! I shot 3 people last week with the stolen pistol in the glove compartment and I have multiple outstanding arrest warrants. The name on my drivers license is fake and you can find 9 overdue library books hidden in my basement meth lab, under a box of grenades! Shoot me now!"

But they won't shoot him. They never do. These officers on tv will run 7 blocks, crash through bushes, climb fences and dodge traffic, all while wearing slippery shoes and like 80 pounds of vest and gear.

I would most likely just shoot. I'm not a runner.

I think that if the bad guys really wanted to escape they would jump into a lake or river and swim away at a leisurely pace. There's no rush cause I promise those officers aren't gettin in the water wearing all that heavy equipment. They would sink like a rock.

I wonder if I could make a living teaching criminals to swim? Hmm. Or maybe selling life jackets to policemen. Thats all for now!

Sweet Ride!

My first car was a 1963 Ford pickup. Ol' blue, Hoop-de-ville, The Blessed Mother of Acceleration! It was a pukey bluish color, had an AM radio that didn't work, and retreads for tires. It was 6 cylinders of pure fury with a tricky 3 speed column shift assuring mind bending acceleration and asphalt buckling torque. I really loved that truck. I would go anywhere and do anything in it.

I remember one time my brakes had completely failed but in my 16 yr. old brain I thought it would still be ok to drive this death trap to school. I know, stupid right? (16 yr old thinking has been known to be a little skewed.) I figured if I left a little early to beat the traffic and stayed a little late I should be fine, and I would have a good story to share with my friends. My plan worked brilliantly in the morning. I was among the first people at school, you remember them, the smart people who came early to study or do some extra credit stuff. You know, the nerdy ones who are cleaning our teeth, giving our kids shots, and raping us in our divorces now. Yeah those kids!
I clearly should have studied the after school traffic patterns more thoroughly before concocting my plan for greatness in a time of no brakes. People apparently were in no hurry to leave school. There were cars freakin everywhere, in the morning people just pretty much showed up in a clump. They leave one by one in their own sweet time. SHEESH PEOPLE I DON"T HAVE ALL DAY!
I decided to chance it and smacked a car. Well really just bumped it. In a way it was funny cause the girl in it was lookin at me like..."are you gonna stop?" And I was lookin at her thinking "Dude, you really should move cause I got eb-so-lutely no brakes". Her folks were really cool about the "accident". Ok so I forgot to mention that I had previous knowlege of the no-brakes thing.
Another time a friend and I decided it would be super cool to drive my truck with our feet on the dash. We cranked up the idle so she would run without pushin the gas and off we went. About 100 yards later we hit a speed bump to fast on our way out of the school parking lot and kicked out my windshield. All of a sudden the joke was on us. Since the glass didn't break we stuck it in the back of the truck and continued on our merry way. For the record I do not recommend driving without your windshield. It totally shields you from the wind. (and bugs) Who'd a thunk it? We eventually made it to his house, found some bathroom caulk and did a fine job re-fitting the windshield.
I had some really good times in that old truck. If any of you have a first car story I would soooo like to hear it. Thanks for stopping by!

Floats Like A Butterfly...

Today I'm thinking about luck. Who's lucky? Who's unlucky? What does it even mean to be "lucky"? I don't think it is a set in stone thing like, this happened so...pow... you're lucky. No I think maybe there are lucky events in ones life.

Take my buddy Ken for example. Ken likes to gamble at the casinos and he wins loot a good part of the time...thats lucky. I know though, that last summer his truck was broke down for a time. Kind of unlucky. Me, I always lose dough at the casino, but I have a really pretty wife to offset my pain. So I'm lucky that way. I'm not sure what the odds are for any given event, I mean, what kind of a number describes "random"? I don't know.

I do know that yesterday at Quik Trip, Ken won $100 on a $5 scratch ticket. Meanwhile, I was outside pumping gas and getting stung by a bee. So I called my pretty wife to tell her about it (whine like a little girl) and she was very supportive and encouraging. She told me I was probably stung due to the fact that I am sweet, like a beautiful flower. RIGHT, THANKS WIFE!

So there I sat pondering my sweetness when something new occured to me prompting my second call to the wife. "Honey", says I, "what if I am allergic to bees?" "No way" she told me, "you wouldn't be able to call me cause you would be all gasping for air and swelling up by now." GREAT I thought. So began my wait for an agonizing, choking, swelled up death.

5 minutes later I noticed I was still breathing so I decided to call my friend Brock. "Hey, what should I do? I got stung by a bee." His reply?..."Get someone to suck out the poison."

I just hung up. I am not going to waste my last few minutes on earth talking to some guy who can't tell rattlesnakes from honeybees!

So there I sat waiting, and wondering...AM I LUCKY?
Turns out I guess I am lucky. I didn't keel over from my bee sting, however it would have been a lot easier and less painful to find that out by winning $100.

What Grinds My Gears vol.2 (bonus blog)

Hey something new for the "what grinds my gears" series.
It really grinds my gears when a hospital employee walks 22 feet past the escalator to get on the elevator to ride up to the first floor. Seriously? You're going to screw everyone else on this elevator because you don't want to take the escalator? What, are you afraid the escalator may break down and leave your dumb ass stranded for a few hours? WHY? WHY? WHY?!
The elevator is the only means of travel from the ground floor to floors 2 thru 6. The escalator only goes to the first floor. The elevator doors open on floor 1 next to...wait for it...the top of the friggin escalator!! I know right?! Meanwhile I along with several other people stand for an extra 20-30 seconds on the elevator cause Mr. Jackass didn't want to ride the escalator. Whats an extra 20-30 seconds you may ask. Well nothing unless you're,
A: holding a blazing hot cup of coffee, or
B: trying to hold in a fart, or
C: trying not to pee in your pants, or
D: ALL OF THE ABOVE
I guess my point is, why create an unnecessary delay for the rest of the world?
Back to you Tom.

I Luv My Job vol.2

Blogbuds, you may all relax. I seem to be over my recent bout of poop-blog-itis. (for now)
Ok, as mentioned before I work for a railroad. As such, part of my job requires me to sometimes ride in a "railroad road cab". Basically this is a sit down, strap in, and hang the f*** on, process. "Road cabs" are vehicles that travel from terminal to terminal and all points in between, hauling us low-life train crews around. The drivers of these cabs are mostly coffee and No-Doze addicts who look like they haven't seen a bed since 1987. I have to say it is terrifying to look over at the speedo on a foggy night and see the needle bent towards the 85 mph line while your driver happily snoozes away in his luxury suite at the Sleepytown Motel. It's a real hoot! There's something special about grabbing the wheel to avoid hiway guard rails and oncoming traffic. Even more special is when the driver doesn't wake up as you wrench the wheel from his grasp. Oh yeah, let the good times roll! I caught myself wondering the other night, how in the world is that driver going to make it 130 miles back home with no one to help him steer? Then it occurred to me that he would probably be fine, after all he just had a nap on the way here!
I had a driver thank me once for "saving his life". "Don't be a moron", I said. "I was saving my life. Now please clean the ice off this windshield and SLOW DOWN!!"
I love this job!

Good Friends?

I have an old victorian home. I affectionately (or not) refer to it as the "money pit". Yeah, like the movie. Thats a whole other blog though. I have been slaving away at a remodel of said house for like...... 2 1/2 years now. One of the first improvements we made was to put a bathroom downstairs. Great, now I don't have to do the pee-pee dance up the stairs cause I "procrastinated". (hi kathryn!) Nope, now I can wait till I just about start to dribble, then run for it! Anyway, the toilet that I installed in the downstairs bathroom is, well, kind of smallish. Apparently this tiny toilet is a source of entertainment for my friends. See I have a couple of friends who are, for lack of a better phrase...poop freaks! They are way too interested in the things that come out of their hineys. So interested in fact that they feel it is appropriate to take pictures of their doo-doo and message the pics to all their buddies. Here's the deal, my tiny toilet makes their ka-ka look enormous. I'm not a hunter but I liken this big-dung thing to a trophy deer. Trophy poo, and a picture to prove it. Its gotten so bad that I have to be on the lookout for these guy's. At first I thought it may be just crazy luck that these guys were having urges at the same time they showed up at the house. Then it occurred to me, one guy drove 9 miles to get here, and the other guy drove 24 miles to get here. This is no accident, it's a planned event. First degree poop-icide, and these cats are GUILTY!
People, don't let this happen to you. Replace any small or midsized toilets in your home with big, bold, industrial sized thrones. Also, demand that guests check their cell phones at the door. Really nobody wants to talk to you while you are doing your business anyway. I know this cause people have asked me not to call them while I'm on the pot. (the accoustics in a bathroom are weird, this accounts for all of us thinking we can sing really well while showering) My blackberry has a really sensitive speakerphone mic, so when I'm in there...they know! Anyway have a wonderful day, and take a little time to think about who your friends are and why they are special to you. Thanks for stopping by!!

Don't Say I Didn't Warn You

I apologize in advance for this post. I know most of my followers are ladies so they won't have a good understanding of this stuff. If you are easily offended you,
A; probably should throw out your computer. and,
B; shouldn't have checked the "i understand and wish to continue" box.
Maybe they will know of some guy's that they could point towards my blog. My buddy was talking to me about a cartoon we watch and the main character did a piece on the news called "you know what really grinds my gears", and a blog post was born.

I hate it when I sit on my nuts. It is incredibly painful and its one of those things you never see coming. If you trip on something and you see you are about to fall, you kind of mentally prepare for the impact. Your body sort of tenses up and you go all smushy faced like you're really constipated and trying to poop. I bet if you stop frame photographed people right before they smashed into the ground you would swear they were pooping. Anyway the "nutsmash" is different. You don't see it coming. You open your car door, climb inside, and sit down...sheeeeit!! Guys know what I'm talking about. There you are thinking that your day is going along fairly well and WHAM! good day gone bad. Hopefully you are alone in the car when this happens, because it hurts so bad you find out you can't even cuss right. If you're with someone you want it to be another guy cause he will understand and sympathize. He will probably say "Ssssssss, Oooooo dude I hate that". On the other hand if it is your wife, she absolutely will not sympathize and will probably giggle a little. Thats what my wife does.
Another thing that us guys hate is when our nutsack sticks to our thigh. It comes from wearing boxers in the summertime, or going commando. I know. Heres a little clue ladies, when you see us doing a kind of little funky looking dance, there's a chance we are trying to shake something loose from our thigh. Be happy we arent sticking our hand into our pants and physically making an adjustment. Past experience tells me that little innocent move can get you banned from Wal-Mart. (for the record, I was a little preoccupied and didn't notice I was in the ladies undergarment section)

I know, not my normal blog content but LiLu said it's TMI Thursday so I figured it would be ok just this once. Sorry if I have offended anyone. I should be back to my old self in a couple hours.
Back to you Tom.

Well Written?

WOW, Did I just do that? Here's the thing, I just read someones blog post and commented. The crazy part is, I used the words...wait for it...."well written". I know right? Immediately after publishing the comment my inner/other me asked "Who the F*** do you think you are?" I had no answer for myself. I don't know where I get off thinking I know what is or isn't well written. I did enjoy the posts literary components, I thought the writer presented her ideas really well and it didn't leave me wondering what she was talking about. Does that qualify as well written? How do I know? I'm just some guy who writes a blog to keep from driving his wife and friends crazy with his random blathering on about who-knows-what. If in fact it is a well written piece, good for the writer!
I guess my point is that if I slip again and use the phrase "well written" in any of my comments about your posts, please take it as a compliment. Thats how it was intended.
I just get a little tired of saying "Oh that was good" it sounds so freaking generic. I don't think it always conveys my thoughts on the piece. And I feel weird if I hog up like a half a page leaving a way-too-in-depth comment. Maybe that is something I will work on in my writing. Maybe I will stop blogging altogether and just comment. Maybe I could start a new blog that is just full of comments, and my readers could try to guess whose blog post I was commenting on. Nah, too confusing. I will just keep blathering on and see what comes out. Now I shall hold my chin inquisitively, and wonder what I have done with my monacle, and my turn of the century looking Sherlock Holmes pipe.

Research

Daytime TV. Who's watching this stuff? I wanted to try to be more like a real writer so I asked my friend Mary what real writers do to prepare. She said I should research my subject, then write something. So, thats what I did! OK actually I vegged out on the couch for a whole day watching tv.
First up was Maury. Are all his shows titled "Are you my baby's daddy?" Really! So theres a chick on there who had been on the show a number of times before and once again Maury tells some random guy, "You are Not the father!!" and the guy hops happily around the stage for awhile and the girl runs off to the "backstage hysterical-crying room". By now the producers have spent thousands of dollars on plane tickets, and DNA tests flying half of the guy's who live in this girls hometown to his show only to find out none of them is the father. She must feel like such a whore, no wonder she is crying. If she had as many dicks sticking out of her as she's had stuck in her she would look like a porcupine!(a crazy sex toy version of a porcupine)
So I moved on to another channel to watch the white knuckled suspense of daytime court shows. Is anyone not a tv judge? We have a bunch to choose from but they all do pretty much the same show. The networks should spice it up a little. Judge Timmy The Transvestite would be funny, or maybe conjoined twin judges who always rule differently and beat the shit out of each other with their gavels! That would be entertaining.
So I moved on and hit the mother of all daytime tv shows. Jerry Springer! I know right? The guy is awesome and never lets America forget that even gap-toothed, cracked out, less-than-sexy people need love too! Granted a bunch of them find it at family reunions. Who cares though as long as it makes good tv. Scripted? I certainly hope so. His show also proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that there are a number of women out there who will show their boobs on tv for 34 cents worth of beads. I love this country!
I don't think we can blame the hosts though, or even the guests. Nope we need to blame the advertisers. If no big corporations advertised on these shows the shows would disappear. So, way to go brand X dishwashing liquid and brand Y super strength trash bags, you are giving the 6,000,000 unemployed people in this country something to do at home all day. Maybe someday, when they're working again they will return the favor and buy your products. (I wonder what it would cost me to advertise my blog on tv?)

Light It Up

I have been turning lights off and on all week. I know that sounds weird but I am looking for a light that makes noise. Isn't it strange that all the sci-fi movies of yester-year have lights that make noise? Really, every time the alien spacecraft is floating around, the lights on it make a throbbing, light-noise. Even when the humans go onboard the spacecraft the inside lights make the same creepy noise. Light sabers...yep they make noise too. Um, Mr. Spielberg, yes...uh, the sabers are made of light. Are we absolutely certain we want them to make a noise? Oh, ok you're the boss!
My guess is he did it because thats what all the other sci-fi movies did. Think about it, he is a little kid at the movies thinking, Wow light that makes noise is sooooo cool! Nearly all the episodes of the twilight zone had noise-making light. And Star Trek? Sheesh, even the sparkle in Captain Kirk's eyes made a noise. Lasers, tasers, and phasers, all that crap had noisy light beams.

Not one light have I found that makes a noise. White light is quiet, blue light is quiet, and green light is quiet. Heck I even went downtown to see if red light made any noise. I heard some noises there allright, but I don't think any of the noises were coming directly from the light. Where is this mystery loud light from the movies of my youth? I may never know.

Sweet Deal?

I got an E-Mail today. It was an offer for a $25 gift certificate from Restaraunt.com. Hey it has to be a bargain at only $8 right? Lemme get this straight cause I'm a little slow at math. I send Restaraunt.com $8 and they send me a gift certificate for $25.
I think its safe to assume that Restaraunt.com is paying in the neighborhood of, oh lets be generous, $4 for these gift certificates. So for doing nothing more than irritating me with crap e-mails they make $4 profit. Bravo guys, thats good business. I suppose the restaraunts issuing the gift certificates are pocketing the remaining $4, and without even having to bring me a glass of water. Even better business. Gold star for the marketing department.
Dinner out at a decent restaraunt with my wife and son runs me approx. $55 with a tip. Now when I show up with my $25 gift certificate that knocks the cost down to $30 so I will probably order dessert. $18 for dessert brings my bill up to $48, add to that the cost of the gift certificate ($8) and I have spent $56. Hey a net loss of only $1!! Thats awesome, till I figure in the $5 gas to get to the restaraunt and back home.

Now I have to worry that I may set myself on fire when I get home because at some point I'm going to realize that I spent $8 that ended up costing me $61. I'm no genius, but I have to be smarter than that, right?

Who is buying this stuff? Please... STOP IT! I am reminded of a Shakespeare play, I think it was Romeo and Juliet. "Would a rose by any other name smell as sweet?" (or something like that).
I'm here to tell you this deal smells like a TURD.

Hey I have an idea, Restaraunt.com why don't you send me a $17 gift certificate...for free!