Severe Weather Warning

See, in Cleveland when you see these words in the winter, they're usually accompanied by a roll of the eyes, a calculated indifference ("Oh well, it's winter in Cleveland"), and then an anxious check of the details anyhow, because you need to estimate how many additional hours it may take you to get home from work that night.

Here in the Grand Canyon State (which really should rightfully own the Sunshine State motto, but that's another story), a Severe Weather Warning actually indicates the following. Tell me folks, honestly, you're as nervous as I am, aren't you?

...AIR STAGNATION ADVISORY REMAINS IN EFFECT UNTIL 5 PM MST THISAFTERNOON...THE NATIONAL WEATHER SERVICE IN PHOENIX IS CONTINUING THE AIRSTAGNATION ADVISORY UNTIL 5 PM MST THIS AFTERNOON FOR THE VALLEYS OF SOUTH-CENTRAL ARIZONA...INCLUDING THE GREATER PHOENIX METROPOLITAN AREA. ASTABLE ATMOSPHERE...COMBINED WITH LIGHT WINDS IN THE LOWEST LEVELS OFTHE ATMOSPHERE WILL CONTINUE TO PRODUCE A STAGNANT AIRMASS OVER THEREGION TODAY. SLIGHTLY STRONGER LOW LEVEL WIND SPEEDS SHOULD LEAD TO BETTERATMOSPHERIC MIXING DURING THE DAY ON WEDNESDAY.

The forecast, BTW, calls for 5 straight days of sunshine. Better issue another weather advisory!

Yeah, I love it here.

FID

I got tagged today

...But not like that, dammit. Oh well.

Anyhow, LoLo tagged me. So, for the oh, 2 people that see this, you probably won't be surprised, but here are five weird things I do:

1) I will yell and scream and actually stare as I am passing by at drivers who fail to use their turn signals (or don't use their lights when it's raining, or who take a turn at like 0.5 MPH as if the car would tip over when taking a turn, or who get on an entrance ramp at like 25 and then suddenly speed up at the last possible second because THEN they realize that "Oh, it's a highway), even if they couldn't possibly have affected the lane I was driving in.

2) I start a blog with the intent of posting all my humorous (although admittedly weird) thoughts throughout the day, then virtually abandon it.

3) Sometimes if I can't sleep at night, I'll get up and do like 50 pushups in the dark. I don't know why, but I usually fall asleep about 3 minutes after I climb back into bed. Seems to work almost every time. If I every get married, I imagine this will be a tough one to explain to the wife.

4) I occasionally trim the old short and curlies before going out at night knowing GOOD AND GODDAMNED WELL that I will not hook up at a bar. But I always tell myself "Hey, you never know." Even though yes, I do know.

5) I get a receipt from the gas pump every time I "Pay at the pump!" because I don't want some f'n thief to try to overbill my card, but then the receipts just sit in my console for months until I clear them out. Only once in a blue moon do I ever bother to look a the receipt to make sure it cleared the bank the right way. So I'm just killin' trees.

There are lots of other weird things, but I'd probably have to post them on a different, shall we say, less family-friendly blog.

Anyhow, that's that!

Oh Boy, Oh Boy!

Oh Boy, Oh Boy!


Why is this duck smilin' and laughin'?
Well, wouldn't you?

Back in the day, I used to have dozens audio files; probably more like hundreds. One would think at my age, I wouldn’t find them quite so funny anymore. WRONG! For those of you that remember, enjoy. For those of you that don’t, welcome to my pervo sense of humor. Odd that Angela didn’t find this funny, but thought her “got a surprise for ya” dealio was…. Anyhow.

Speechless - Well, not really

Ok, I have HAD IT.

What the fuck is going on in this country that Bill Clinton was nearly impeached for a blowjob, but GW, Rove, “Scooter,” and scariest of all, Cocksucker, er sorry, Dick Cheney have barely suffered the slightest of damage (except to their reputations, and even that is questionable) for no-bid contracts, flat out lying, leading some bizarre, never-in-a-million-years-could-it-be-justified war in Iraq, and supporting torture by CIA agents. But then Bush says it’s not that he’s really supporting torture, it’s just that he doesn’t want detainees to know what they cannot be subjected to. Excuse me, WHHHHHHHHHHAATTTTTTTTT????!!!!!!!!?????????

Ok, but I can even deal with that, given the utter lack of intelligence they have collectively and their genuine disregard for so many things American. I could go on, but this is probably a post for a day when I can be more organized and actually link you all to some of the shit these idiots try to (and most often do) get away with.

But what I can’t understand is the argument for “intelligent design.” And I’m not only picking on Kansas, cuz Bob “Bobblehead” Taft and cronies in Ohio also led a similar piece of shit legislation to allow this garbage to be taught, too. I’m not picking on people who choose to believe it, just don’t pass it off as science. Unless, of course, these same morons are willing to let me come into their churches and teach science. You can imagine how well THAT proposal would go over.

Whatever – I could write 30 pages on my utter disgust and disbelief for the whole anti-intellectual movement this country is migrating toward (or have we already arrived there, as I strongly suspect and fear?) but remember folks, anti-intellectualism usually breads fear, and fear breads nothing but paranoia, distrust, and all sorts of other unpleasantries, not the least of which is fascism.

I’m not saying that the people that lead the country or want to teach creationism ARE fascists (they’d have to have understand the word and be able to spell it first), only that each successive step they achieve, even though the steps are probably not intentionally some widespread master plan, I AM saying that I simply cannot believe we’re going back 50+ years in our thinking. Think McCarthy-style paranoia and witch hunting, only instead of relatively high-profile political figures, Big Bro is going after private citizens [think I’m kidding? Check out the Electronic Frontier Foundation’s insights on the PATRIOT act (and yes, PATRIOT is actually an acronym… go look it up online sometime)]. Scary stuff.

Ok, well, this has been horribly disorganized, but please, for the love of Country, next time you vote, read up on your candidates a little more, and if you don’t vote, you should be locked in a cage with a history book until you understand how important it is.

Done.

Tonight's post has been brought to you by the Constitution of the United States of America, which has apparently been completely forgotten by (or unknown to, as the case may be) our leaders.

Lightsabers, Star Wars, and Me

About 10 years ago (side note: it is truly insane that this was 10 years ago… I can’t believe it), I was dating this absolutely great girl. She shares a name with a famous 70s rock singer, who, coincidentally, now happens to be very popular among gay men, or so I understand. She looked absolutely nothing like the singer (thankfully), but definitely had her attitude, sarcastic style, etc etc. We're still close friends, and she still cracks me up.

But, as usual, I digress.

Let me back up a couple steps. For those that don’t know, I have, unfortunately, a pretty damn hairy chest. If I had the money, I’d have it all lasered off, but that shit is NOT cheap and it IS painful (yes, I know from experience, which is a post for another time). Anyhow, bottom line is, Chewbacca and I probably share some DNA somewhere along the line. I’ve finally learned to live with it, but for a long time, I was exceptionally insecure about it, and it actually probably contributed to my (oh, boy, confession time) late loss of virginity.

At one point while C and I were together, she was staying at her cousin Patty’s house. Patty was a big, beautiful woman. Well, actually, she wasn’t that beautiful, but she was certainly big and hilarious, and had an infectious laugh, and had boobs big enough that she could have shared them with like 3 women, seriously. And in Patty’s house, C and I did it in almost every room (or at least that’s how I like to remember it). It was definitely a good part of my life. And, surprise, again, I digress.

C had a son, K, about maybe 20 months old during this part of our relationship (no, not mine, for you inquiring, gossipy little bitches). And on one particularly awesome, beautiful summer day after work (C and I worked together), I was holding her son while we were getting ready to go outside. I only had on a t-shirt, typically hot, humid summer Cleveland day. It dropped down a little bit, showing off the oh-so-sexy chest hair, and K just grabs a fistful, looks up at me, then C, then Patty. He smiles really big, like he’s about to say something really declamatory and important, and says (are you ready for this?):














“DOGGIE!!!!”


Needless to say, all of us were laughing, them at me, me at myself out of sheer embarrassment. Alas, this has become quite a good memory over the years.

So, yeah, that didn’t do a whole lot to make me more secure about my chest, but you know, it’s pretty damn funny looking back.




To the whopping 3 or 4 people that actually read this shit, have a great weekend, and I'll see you all at Christmas.


Tonight’s post has been brought to you by Jessica Alba.

Showing off

Movie going

Today I went to see the movie Domino with Keira Knightley, among others. I won't bore you with how beautiful she is, just trust me.

So... bear in mind that the movie is rated R. As in "we'll let kids under 17 in with a parent, but you should know the movie is violent, sexual, and has lots of rotten language." Anyhow, if you're, say, 14 or 15, I say no harm, no foul. But if you're, say, 8 to 10 years old, honestly, this is not a movie for you. But apparently in Flagstaff, parents are down with their kids seeing this, since probably a third of the audience was made up of kids in just about that age range. Even still, even though *I* wouldn't allow this if I were a parent, I don't really give a shit if you want to expose your kid to it - just don't whine about it in the paper when he/she blows up your house or rapes a classmate or something. ANYHOW, I really wouldn't care, but for God's sake, MAKE THE KIDS SHUT THE HELL UP. See, this movie has a story line that won't interest most kids, and one they probably don't really understand, so they start talking, and that just about makes me wanna punch them!!!

Most movies that are R-rated are for two reasons: 1) Content or 2) To keep out moronic kids who'd rather see Yu-gi-oh or however you spell it.

Ok, enough on that. My next issue with my experience today is that I am truly glad Flagstaff has banned smoking in bars and restaurants. But apparently not the smell of 3-days-unwashed clothing and stale smoky/dirty smell that accompanies the nasty habit. There was a guy sitting BEHIND me a row or two who absolutely reeked. I moved, but honestly, the air in most stadium theaters goes UP, not down, so how much smoking did this guy do, exactly, and how long had it been since he'd washed his clothes? He didn't reek of BO, just filthy smoke. Gross. I'm all about free will and chioce, don't get me wrong, but one would hope some people would CHOOSE to wash. Apparently not.

Nothing hilarious or intriguing today, just thought I'd rant a little. I think next time I'll write about K - haven't really thought much about her since I moved here, but for some reason she popped into my head today.

In the mean time, enjoy this pic of a California condor that was totally posing for a small crowd at the Grand Canyon (only an hour away from me, by the way for any of you who want to visit). I took this around 3 weeks ago.

Flan

P.S. Today's post has not been sponsored by George Bush or Karl Rove, @ssholes that they are.

Woeful Tales of Dating

This pic has nothing to do with the post, but instead is just to give you a taste of why I moved out here. I actually took this myself, so thanks for the compliments, jackholes.


So to the story we go:

A couple years ago, I think 4, (if my alcohol-impaired memory is worth a damn), which is actually more than a couple, actually it's a couple times two... Um, let me start again.

About four years ago, I was dating a girl named An----, hereinafter referred to as A. Anyhow, she was a nice girl - blonde, cute face, LOVED sex (a bonus in any book, fo' sho'!) and basically was an ok girl. She was an "older woman," being 30, I think, and definitely wanted to find herself a marrying man. She was also, um, "pleasantly plump." I mean, she was no fat girl, but she was kinda pear shaped, if ya catch my drift. And she was SOO proud of her tig ol' bitties, but they were actually B-A-N-A-N-A-S, and they were the floppiest damn things... no fun at all. But I digress.

First date, I show up and she tells me:
1) Her cat must like me because he's blessed me with a display of the old brown eye. Her words, not mine, seriously.
2) That she is often gassy because she's a vegetarian.

So those two items combined create red flag (or brown, as the case may be) number one.

Now, I am ALL ABOUT being comfortable around your significant other, and I mean that physically and emotionally. But honestly, d'ya think that's apropo for a first date? Methinks not.

Our second date:
'Twas around her birthday. Despite my promise to myself to take it easy (I'm notorious for going overboard and spending too much money too early), I decided to take her to Don's Pomeroy House for dinner. Now, it was mid-week, and I realized I may have underestimated the effect that growing up in Akron may have had on her, but honestly, I did not expect her to open the door wearing fishnets (I'm not kidding) and have 80s-style crimped hair. She asked me, in all sincerity and genuineness, if I liked it. I didn't respond, but instead asked "So are you ready to go? Where's your coat?" (Thank God it was cold outside - at least I could keep that nastyness somewhat under cover.)

Keep in mind this was the year 2001 or thereabouts. I was beyond mortified, but what the hell was I going to do, ruin her birthday? At some point during the course of the meal, she proceeds to tell me that another reason she doesn't eat meat is because it ferments in your stomach. A fact I'd be willing to concede, but her additional reasoning was that it created too much gas. Given her statement from date number one, I couldn't figure out exactly how this girl planned to find any nutritional sustenance.

This is clearly red/brown flag number two.

Fast foward a while... maybe 2 months. We have a romp in the hay, which she nearly ruined for me because she insisted on screaming during the whole routine. And I don't mean breathy, sexy, semi-loud moaning, but actually SCREAMING. I was totally distracted and could hardly finish the deed. Really, REALLY annoying!!!!!!!!! And seriously girls, I know I'm good, but I'm no fool, I'm not that good. So if you start screaming, I'm assuming that either 1) I'm hurting you (an instant boner-deflator) or 2) There's a stranger in the room about to stab both of us. Just don't do it!

So anyhow, we finally wrap up, and she gets her nasty cottage-cheese, banana-boobed bod out of bed to go pee. Just after she closes the bathroom door, I hear it open. She says "Hey sweetie, I got a surprise for you!" She sticks that same fatass out the door and lets rip a gigantic gas bomb. No, not kidding. Yes, disgusting. She is, forevermore, The Farter.

Things went rapidly down hill after that, and though I hold no ill will toward her whatsoever, sincerely, I do have to share one last thing. The day things finally ended, she called me up and told me blah blah blah I just don't think blah blah and words words nonsense hot air, and "I just think you have a lot of growing up to do!!!"

Wait - the girl who aims her ass at me and farts after sex tells me *I* have a lot of growing up to do? KEEE-RYST! And people ask me why I left Cleveland.

So - there's my first official blog entry worth a damn. Hope you enjoyed. As the mood strikes me, and especially once I can figure out how the hell to post pics, I'll add some more great dating experiences.

Some previews of things to come:
1) The one-night stand/semi-stalker
2) High school memories
3) The one I thought was "the one"

P.S. Send me some topics - I will gladly offer my view of them.

P.P.S. Tonight's post has been brought to you by my new love. Holy CRAP, how do you get a genepool like that?

Hope you all are well.