Let's do this thing!

Lately I’ve been having run-ins with olderish gentlemen. This latest incidence and almost getting in a fight in a Sam’s Club parking lot. First off, I’m not opposed to the baby boomers, my dad is one. Granted, I have tried to take him out on more than one occasion. Perhaps, my latest run-in is due, in part, to karma. I don’t think so, my dad always has it coming; and it keeps him spry.

Midway is a great town. Founded by the Swiss, Midway shares many characteristics of the modern day Switzerland, such as neutrality and non-aggression. They have great events there.

I decided to go on a date there. It was a Jazz concert and it was free, bonus! While my date and I were walking to the grass seating area I had to stop by the restroom. As is my custom I make noises when I hear the door to the restroom open; groans, tapping of the feet, and the like. This usually lets people know that the stall is occupied.

The door opened and as I finished my noise routine I relaxed a bit. The next thing I know this 60ish year old man with a cowboy hat is peeking over the top of the stall. Weird right! We made eye contact and he grunted something about not knowing the stall was occupied. I guess I didn’t make enough noise, sounds like I need to invest in an air horn.

I finished my business and made my way to the sink. The peeper was finishing his business at the urinal and left. I dried my hands and left the bathroom, ready to meet up with my date. As I was walking in the parking lot this 60ish year old man turned to me and asked if I’d washed my hands. I responded enthusiastically that I had. I was even slightly proud of the fact. After my response Mr. Cowboy looked at me and gruffly responded, “I don’t think you did!”

Shocked, my date and I both stopped and just looked at this modern day cowboy of cleanliness. There was tension in the air as the elderly cowboy’s hand inched closer to his Leatherman. I didn’t press the matter and we left without resorting to blows/stabbing.

I don’t know what it is. Honestly, who does something like this? The fact that I did wash my hands irked me even more. Anyway, I have no idea who will hassle me next. However, I’m guessing a walker or dentures might be involved.

Death unto Thee!

I’m in the double digits now. The bodies just keep mounting. Every day I see at least one of the enemy. Sometimes I enjoy placing one in the bath tub and watching it try to scurry up the side; they never get very far.

The earwig army has been advancing. A few days ago they officially crossed the 38th parallel, the point of definite aggression. Thus, negating any chance they might have had for mercy. A man can only be pushed so far! I didn’t mind seeing them hiding in the carpet. I didn’t even mind when I found one in my bed.

During the night of July 12, 2010 at 2:23 am I awoke to relieve myself. All went as planned, and I returned refreshed. The loss of moisture had peaked my thirst and I decided to have a little drink. In the darkness I fumbled for the container and place the lip of the bottle to my lips. As I swallowed the cool liquid, letting it pass over my tongue, I felt something move.

My throat at this point immediately sealed off and everything in my mouth was spewed out. I rushed for the light wanting some illumination on what the offending moving liquid could have been. As I cleaned the spit mixture I saw it, horns straight from Satan himself! These horns, however, weren’t located on the head. They were on the creatures back end, the dreaded earwig. The fiends struck a powerful blow. Due to their actions; I have sworn to take upon myself the role of aggressor. No earwig shall be safe!

Until this point the earwigs have been a mild disturbance and somewhat entertaining. My mom really hates the things. Now I too, will do my part to exterminate them. Any living thing that enters my mouth unwanted will incur my wrath! The day of reckoning is at hand my earwig friends, and I shall be victorious!

Tis were (accepted Microsoft grammar checker) awhile since I’ve done any blogging. Things have been a little bit crazy. The working world has claimed another victim. I sit in a giant cubicle with 3 other people-all of us sit with our backs to each other- staring at a computer for 8 hours. It wouldn’t be so bad except we don’t speak to each other, ever. It is odd. My coworkers seem like cool people, but since we never speak I’ll never know. The following diagram shows my work space.

On a positive note, the person on the other side of my cubicle has stopped the daily crying session. I guess they came to terms that there is no escape. I wonder at what point I’d snap and start crying?

Other than work, life is wonderful. I’m back in my parent’s basement, for the time being. I’m a dating fool; I think it’s more appropriate to emphasize the later more than the former. The majority of my dating stories I’d feel bad about posting on the internet. However, they’re awesome! If you want a good laugh sometime, just let me know and I’ll regale you with a dating tale. I enjoy being an uncle, shout-out to Finn! I still play racquetball quite a bit. However, the only person that will play me these days is my dad.

My next big adventure is going to Boston in about a month. I’m super stoked! I should be able to post blog entries a little more often, since I’m in the work grove.

Some of Art

Sometimes at work I get bored. The following is what happens.
I call this one "The Way to Love"

Some sandworm.

The eternal struggle - Bird vs Worm

Ewww Gross!

Funny moments are great. Every once in awhile something just makes you smile. This morning as I was getting some milk and an English Muffin from Lee’s, I got to have myself a little chuckle. As usual the employees were going about there business, seemingly without and sign of disgruntlement.

However, as I was passing the meat department I overheard the lady stacking meat exclaim, “GROSS!” The first thought I had was the lady might be a vegetarian. Wouldn’t that be wild? Hire some vegetarian to stack meat, pretty ironic. It also might have been that the meat was super nasty. Either way I was amused.

Popped eyeballs anyone?

Self-defense classes are awesome and a little weird, even more so when they are done by your church group, FHE. Let me start this off correctly, and by covering my bases, by saying the teachers were great. In case anything in here ever makes its way back to them I don't want to get something broke or pulled out of me.

The class was more oriented towards women; most self-defense classes seem to be this way. As you can imagine talking about being raped at a church outing doesn’t happen very often; it was a little bit awkward. What made it more awkward was the teachers demonstrated the rape position. Both of the teachers were guys. Sorry, no pictures.

Something fascinating, how much emphasis was placed on popping someone’s eyeball out of its socket, or just plain exploding it. I am 100% sure this move would be effective. If someone removed my eyeball, I’d be down for the count. The instructors said if you could actually get the eyeball to explode, well even better. Plus, I imagine, the ocular fluid from an exploded eyeball might give a person powers. I’m reminded of how Native Americans sometimes ate hearts to gain courage. Eyeball fluid should do something; perhaps, jumping higher.

Remember, after an eyeball is popped there will be vomiting; either by the popped or the poppee; be prepared. The added vomit will definitely be an added bonus and a more interesting story once the police arrive. “Officer, I didn’t mean to spew. I just didn’t know removing an eyeball would be so gross.”

The other part I found rather jocular was the demonstration on what to do if you were “on bottom”, or you being raped. One guy straddling another one if front of a room of people is a shock. It’s even more of a shock when the guy on bottom is being strangled by the guy on top. All the while trying to explain to everyone you need to punch this person in the throat or wail away on his junk, and of course, if you get the chance, go for the eyes!

Living la vida loca.

I’ve been single for awhile now; at least this is how I thought of myself. I’ve never really considered myself a bachelor. However, I do believe I have reached bachelordom. The bachelor is an interesting creature. Most are between the ages of 25 and 35. These men have been on their own so long they have adapted to a lifestyle most would find appalling. From eating habits to grooming, there is something most “normals” would find wrong about the bachelor’s lifestyle. I'm sure I'll get a few comments and posts from this post. Also, heads up ladies, the show The Bachelor, completely false.

Last night I came to the realization that I am in fact a bachelor. I was hungry so I decided to go to the store at 10:30 p.m. Now most people don’t go shopping at this time of night. However, everyone should. The variety of people at night is amazing and you never know what you’re going to see. You might see a midget, a pierced lady, a crazy person, even the elusive bearded lady; it is a good bet it will be memorable. Wal-Mart is usually the best place to go if you’re in the mood for a late night exhibition. I was at Smith's.

As I was wondering around I bought a pack of Ho-hos and a Mexican Coke, that’s it. I didn’t buy any vegetables, cleaning products, toiletries, etc.; I bought Ho-hos and Mexican Coke. I imagine I would never do something like this if I was married. It just wouldn’t be done. I’ve seen enough married guys to know what’s up. Even when I’m dating someone I don’t buy stuff like this, often. Women have a great power and ability to train men. The bachelor is a wild animal that has not yet been tamed. I realize that someday some lucky lady will tame me. Until that day I am going to frolic in the woods.

The Ho-hos were delicious, as was the Mexican Coke. I’m not sure eating the hot pickles was a good idea, but they were in the fridge, so I ate them. I finished my Ho-hos, Mexican Coke, and hot pickles while watching some 17 year old girl finish singing some song on American Idol. I hate that show. I slept soundly last night as I was kept company by the serpent women and a leprechaun army. Being a bachelor isn’t all bad. You just have to look at the positives. They’re definitely there.