It Takes A Nation of Millions to Hold Me Back

Holy hallucinogens Batman! It's been over a week. Looks like I got a lot of 'splainin' to do.

For my inconsistancies I should be dropped into a tank of sharks that have the ability to read amateur poetry.

Which side of Abe Lincoln's head do you have to be able to see in order for your tires to be too bald?

It's A Cube, Rubix!

There's a secret screwdriver method to solve things. You know a screwdriver, no not vodka and orange juice...that's just a whole new set of solutions. I'm talking about ripping the plastic squares right off the rubix cube's core. Just jam a flathead screwdriver into the edge and tear it to bits and build it back to perfection in fourteen seconds. It's much less shoddy that tearing all the stickers off. For one once you remove an adhesive it's just never the same. Once the backside of that sticker has a taste of freedom it's never going to face away from the light again. It's also insanely hard to get everything back to the right angle. I'm pesky over angles. It's gotta be right angles all the way. Anything other than ninety degrees is downright unsettling.

It's sheer luck when you can tear off a sticker in it's entirety. Utter perfection.

On a side note one thing has never sat right with me, in a movie when a character is supposedly a genius or some kind of savant they can solve a rubix cube within seconds. When did the rubix cube become the litmus test of mental acuity? It's like measuring somebody's brain power by a pop culture fad. You might as well determine their IQ by having them feed a pet rock or have them spin collectable plates on a stick.

I guess what I'm getting at here, if you're going to cheat at a Rubix Cube peal off the stickers. Leave that screwdriver stuff to the amateurs. I'm talking about serious skill. If you can remove all the stickers and leave them more or less intact and can place them back on strategically perfectly fitting the square, why that's just as amazing as solving a real rubix cube in my opinion.

Bananas Have the Most Appeal

A lot of people want to become rich enough not to work anymore. Not me. I just want to become famous enough to only get work in Geico commercials.

You know, the ones where people need the help of celebrities to talk about their claim. Now I don't have the use of a talking guitar like Peter Frampton. However I think I could be just as cool as the Police Academy guy. It's nice to keep these people off the streets. I mean it's not like being a human sound effect is a transferrable skill. Not many accountants need to sound like robots or power windows. Well maybe he could sell power windows.

I hope I one day reach the level of D List movie star reduced to selling power windows, then maybe Geico would be knocking on my door asking me to join the ranks of C List celebrities. That's a pretty nice promotion. However there's no amount of commercials one can do to match the commercial status of William Shatner. That man can sell anything and probably has sold everything.

Well none of us can ever be William Shatner, but each one of us has the potential to be that Police Academy guy.

38 the Hard Way

Well like I previously stated. Getting home is half the fun, or is it getting there? Well either way it makes sense because in this situation, the "there" in question is home. And getting there was like pulling teeth.

I like that expression, like pulling teeth. Because honestly that can't be easy. I mean yeah dentists do it, but they have a special chair and they have tools and they get to knock that person out first. I'm assuming that's integral to the plan.

However, I digress. I'm wandering here.

After partying like it was 1999 on Saturday night I had to make my way home. Saturday night left us with a rather underwhelming snow storm. Nothing like they predicted. No apocalypse, no nukes, no nothing. Just some flakes. The snow plow went by 46 times and all was well again.

So I packed up and I hit the trail for my 38 mile trip home. A trip that would normally take me a leisurely 45 minutes. However it was this day that I was introduced to the frantic world of white knuckle driving.

My dodge stratus is ill equipped for New York driving. First and foremost I do not have snow tires. In fact some have compared my tires to racing slicks. Whoops my bad. Second, this car barely sits a half inch off the ground, it's practically like driving a submarine. With ice and snow covered roads my car reacted more like a sled than a quality American automobile.

At this point my attention turns to the serious. No more one hand on the wheel one hand navigating the shuffle list on the iPod. It was time to put my hands at 10 and 2 and drive 20 miles per hour in a 55. At this point I had to assume I was still following the road because all lines and recognizable forms of pavement had disappeared. For all I know I could have driven a frozen river home, okay well no I didn't do that.

Luckily the other partyers were following me because they needed to get home as well. Which worked out good because they had to help navigate my car (car turned sled) back onto the road twice. At this point I just wanted to make it home by January, let alone with my car.

I felt like I was navigating the Oregon Trail. Thankfully none of my horses drowned and I didn't come down with diptheria or anything that spectacular.

I did make it home, a good hour and a half after I left. I would have kissed the ground, but after hearing snow and slush scrape under my car for the better part of my trip home I really didn't want to see the ground again. Besides kissing the ground is for sissies or if you're in a plane and almost crash and say or do something really embarrassing right before the plane rights itself.

Boy I love a good ramble.

Maybe I'll walk next year.

Holiday Edition

So this is Christmas.

And tis the season, to part-ay!

Well seriously folks, Christmas is about giving. It's about giving the best dollar store gifts you can find, just like those three wise people that gave baby Jesus a novelty shot glass and a travel sized version of boggle.

In the spirit of the season I climbed into my car and headed to Chuck and Colleen's first annual Christmas/beer pong/Walter's birthday celebration extravaganza. And not unlike the wisemen and the star of David, I followed winter storm warning all the way to the party. Well I guess it really wasn't like the star of David at all, I just like parallels and metaphors, lots of metaphors.

When I arrived I drank a joyous holiday punch out of a tub, well a tub nearly the size of a bathtub. Talk about festive. It was enough to put anybody on the floor, but not before forming a few obscene sentences with those fun words people seem to put on their refrigerator. You'd be suprised how quickly you can make an R rated sentence out of G rated words.

For the gift exchange I bought the dollar store sized version of "Hungry Hungry Hippos" and a can of sardines, you know for the really hungry hippos. That and they were a whole 59 cents. 59 cents isn't even money, it's practically a novelty, just like any other amount of money under 75 cents. Why 75 cents? It just seems like the proper cut off. I was lucky, my friend Drew got my gift. That man appreciates a fine sardine. And if we ended up snowed in well we'd all have a great lunch with those sardines.

I scored some sweet swag myself. Walter wound up being my secret santa. I received a cap gun, a real slinky, some silly putty and a deck of cards. Talk about a great collection.

After that we reconvened to the living room and watched one great movie to keep us in the holiday spirit, "28 Days Later."

I passed out, and it wasn't even on the floor. The best part was I didn't even leave my shoes on, I've never been so proud.

They say getting home is half the fun, well in this case it's nearly half the story. So I may have to save that for another time.

A Life Less Fulfilling

When people ask what I do for a living, I can tell them one of three things.

I sell timeshares to household pets.

I assist in a program that provides time traveling to inner city youth.

I hose down STDs off of various celebrities..

Some of these take weeks, and they provide good excuses as to why I'm not blogging.