SMELLS LIKE BULLSHIT

I spit on my pillow this morning.

Really, it’s true. I was having this amazingly real life feeling dream and I was chewing tobacco. I used to chew tobacco, I used a can and a half a day of Copenhagen snuff for about 10 years. I haven’t had any since I went cold turkey back in 1990.

So at the end of this dream, well it was the end because I spit on my pillow not because it came to a nice fairy tale ending and all was well. Anyway I was putting in a “dip” and I was getting it settled and needed to spit and I did and then it wasn’t EXACTLY right in my lip, so I spit.

And it was on my pillow.

So I did the man thing and flipped the pillow over and went back to sleep.

*CATUION* Rapid change of subject please keep all arms and legs inside of the car for your protection.

Last night the crazy roads department decided to cut short a lane of traffic by 200 yards. It isn’t a big deal BECAUSE where they did it was right before that lane ended anyway by an exit/entrance onto our woefully inadequate KC freeway. What pisses me off is the retardedness of the way they announced it.

The Street people,(City officials not the bums, although there is little difference in this story) decided the best wayo tp inform the public was to put up a flashing highway sign with a lot of words in a extremely stupid spot 2 FUCKING MILES BEFORE THE LANE ENDED!

I know people needed to know that there was a removal of some of the previously drivable roadway but it is 435 interstate for Christ sake! The fucking lane ended exactly…almost, in the same fucking spot that it had for the previous 50 fucking years! I say almost because it really is only about 200-300 feet difference. So 2 miles before a lane ends there is this HUGE flashing warning sign with entirely too many words on it causing the old people who are up at the fucking crack of 6:30am driving to their Wal-Mart greeters job, to slow down to the point of causing a fucking accident and read the stupid sign.

Here’s the kicker.

One mile up the road from the “Sign of Imminent Doom” there is a nice big, non-flashing street sing that simply reads “Lane ends one mile.” It is perfect, clear, concise, to the point and un-obtrusive. The perfect sign. If women had signs like this Men would have a better shot of getting the right present at the right time.

Fucking Bureaucrats.

Fucking whinny liberal fucking bureaucrats.

“Oh we have to give the drivers more warning then the obviously brand new sign that they might miss because they are on their fucking cell phones or putting on their fucking makeup, or trying to hide the body of the dead hooker that society had failed to properly educate on the dangers of sex, and drugs and that heathen devil music rock and roll. So lets make it a big flashy one with all of the words ever invented for LANE FUCKING ENDS PREPARE TO FUCKING MERGE YOU FUCKING WINDOWLICKING RETARDS”

Up next, my “Wild Cow Milking” experience.

Thank you all for the well wishes and the "get better soons" I do feel much better and if it wasn't for this chorline laced mop water sitting not two feet away from my cubicle slowly burning my sinuses and throat I would feel amazinly better.

I was watching the “Daily Show” last night and John Stuart’s guest was some broad who wrote a book about Abe Lincoln. It seemed like a pretty good book putting the spin on what we as Americans have been taught that old Abe was a brooding sufferer of depression or was bi-polar, or some other previously un-diagnosed psychological ailment. I mean who in their right mind would set free a whole race people that were doing such a bang up job of being slaves and repressed by the man? I mean really who would do such a thing?

So this lady brought up a pretty good point about politics and how as a nation we have sullied the title of Politician for the entire world. Since we have created the media monster that is TV and set forth to become the most “informed” ( I put that in quotes as a joke BTW) nation in the world we have shattered what our forefathers used to build this country.

Back when honest Abe and the crew were trying to change things they had to do it one person at a time. I know that is some what inefficient but there is something to be said for a public speaker who can change people’s minds and sway votes with a 4 hour debate. When Lincoln and Douglas debated the slavery issue in 1858 (didn’t know you were going to get a history lesson from some stupid fat guy in Missouridid ya?) 15,000 people showed up to listen to these guys argue. Two guys, 4 hours, 15,000 people , NO P.A.!! They had no amplification. They held 15,000 people attention by yelling for 4 hours! They brought forth change and debated if anyone had the right to own anyone else, and they did it all while standing alone on a stage speaking their minds. No handlers, no yes men, just two guys two different opinions, yelling...for 4 hours. And I thought NASCAR was a waste of an afternoon.

But seriously, they have to be rolling over in their graves watching how we have fucked up this country and led ourselves headfirst into the shitter. I’m not taking sides here either, it doesn’t matter if you’re republican, democrat, independent, flying spaghetti monster, or Bill Clinton. If you have been involved in politics within the last 100 years SHAME ON YOU! You have fucked up the best thing we had going. Republicans weaseling out of taxes, Democrats giving away money to people too fucking lazy to do anything besides squirt out babies, independents thinking that they can change the system, getting elected and finding out that we need a serious nuclear war, or at least some strategic bombing done to clean house and make for a new wave of government.

Just like it used to be.

Slow and semi inefficient but at least is was clear and concise.

Jesus where the hell did that rant come from. I must be feeling better if I can pull history outta my ass like that. So anyway my head has cleared up and I feel better , I still have a little fluid in my left lung gurgling around, but I will cough that up in no time! So I want to do some house cleaning on the ol'links list there to the left...if you are on there and like being on there let me know if you are on there and haven't updated in a long time odds are that you will be removed to dwindle back to obscurity....it isn't that I don't still love you but people change , it isn't you it's me, I can';t keep leading you on...ok no it really is you.

I swear to Christ I feel like 10 pounds of shit jammed in a 5 pound bag!. If this is what Pete had, it is no wonder he dropped all of his classes! Jesus christ on a pogo stick this sucks! I'm just glad I'm not a bird, it could be the asian bird flu. Or in that case I'm glad there aren't any gorillas in Asia, well at least none with a flu named after them. I swear I'll tell you all about the green stuff coming out of my nose and throat at a later date, but for now I need to go back to bed.

I pierced my Nipple once.

Notice how I said I pierced my nipple, and not I had my nipple pierced…yes it is a fine line of distinction but it is there.

It was the late 80’s early 90’s I don’t remember exactly when because I spent most of that time period drunk/stoned/tripping/ignoring the real world, so my memory is a little sketchy but it seemed to be all the rage and I saw a couple of people who had their shit pierced and it looked fun, so I thought a lot about it but never seriously.

But since I was in this drunken barn dance stage of life and was drinking every night, or worse it was no surprise that I was out and in rare form for even that point in my life. See when I was drinking heavily I would ask the bartenders at my favorite watering hole to put me on the “Quantity not Quality” drinking plan. And if they agreed I would order 5-6 shots, all different flavors, and a vodka Collins. I would wait until the cocktails were all poured and sitting in front of me and then I would proceed to down them. In about 30 seconds. I would then grin at the bartender, and ask to have my vodka Collins refilled and take that one to the back table where I would sit and people watch ordering anywhere from 5-10 more drinks over the course of 3-4 hours. I was a quiet drunk, I only caused problems once…in a bar that is, and I really just liked to drink and people watch. Much like I do to this day.

Anyway I’m drinking my fare share and more than likely your share as well, when I see a friend who I hadn’t seen in a few years and the drinking suddenly becomes a sport. We buy each other rounds, we buy random girls rounds and generally get so fucked up, had we walked near an open flame we would have burst into flames like the monks protesting the Vietnam war.

I’m really unsure what happened next, or for the next 3-4 hours of drinking, but what I do know is I woke up with a pounding head, and a taste like the neighbor’s cat snuck into my room shit in my mouth and tried to bury it with hot garbage. So since I had a class (Teaching music to children 101) I had to get up and shower. As I stumbled down the hallway carrying my towel and cursing the evils of drinking, I started inventorying the body parts that hurt, and checking for any mystery bruises. There was some dull ache going on in the vicinity of my chest but I attributed that to sleeping funny or possibly getting punched in a friendly manner at the bar the night before.

I step into the shower and start the routine, head to toe spending an inordinately long time at the penis region because what feels better the a morning tug right? But as I made my way down the face and towards the chest I could feel the pain in my chest moving to the left side and settling into that pectoral region. Then as I quickly tried to lather my chest and my soapy hands hit the nipple area, I screamed in pain and almost crapped in the shower.

I jump into the spray of water trying remove all of the soap from the chest to try and ascertain what the fuck happened. Needless to say I was pretty sober by now and my hangover was removed and replaced by extreme nipple pain. I looked down and lo and behold my left nipple was wearing one of my earrings.

Not surgical steel, not a store bought “piercing” nipple ring guaranteed not to get infected, or to cause toxic shock syndrome, but one of my own old dirty funk infested, football player, hasn’t been cleaned in years, hoops. I was shocked, bewildered, and slightly confused. Where did this come from? How did this happen? HOLY SHIT IT REALLY HURTS. So dancing around in the shower I rinsed, opted to not have the morning tug, and jumped wet out of the shower. It was decision time.

Do I keep it in and hope that my nipple doesn’t turn black and fall off or do I risk removing it and causing amounts of pain that could only be determined by the use of higher math, a live chicken and a pants load of carpenter ants? I opted for the removal. Gently grasping the hoop with both hands I spread the two halves of the hoop apart almost making it straight, just to give me enough room so that the damn thing would come out in one swift pull doing little to no damage to my nipple. I took three deep breaths, steadied myself, and yanked.

A little pee came out.

It hurt so bad that I swore to never pierce anything other then my ears ever again and that the next time I ran into said old friend to punch him right in the face.

Just out of principle.

What kind of pirate am I? You decide!
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Brought to you by Rum and Monkey

I was tossing and turning all night. It was a typical night of ½ sleeping and weird dreams but there was only one that was powerful enough for me to remember it. So all of you arm chair psychologists and dream analyzers tell me what the fuck is going on.

I’m driving a Volvo, wait there is more, and I have packed it with everything I own and am driving across country. I don’t know which direction I’m driving but I think it was east because of the people I meet.

I pull into this gas station that appears to be crowded but there is a lot of people just standing around. I really don’t notice that until I get into the store and pick out what I need and head to the cahier station. I ask the teenager behind the counter a direction question and she looks at me with those vacant teen eyes, and says” Eet Don’t matter now how, you’ll be right back.”

I just stare back at her for a couple of seconds and then head out the door, where I see a kid that was like 10-11 years old holding a sign like a bum that read “ a place for a cig and a beer” Like that was all he would ever need to to be happy…I start to walk back to where my car was parked and I hear a guy tell the kid to just give it up it ain’t gonna happen, when I notice my car, well more to the point I notice it’s not there. I look around for a few seconds and my mind processes that there are a lot of people and no cars.

The people were separated from the cars with a series of poles and some rope like a redneck style of velvet rope. And I see the back end of my car in line with the others I also notice that there are some people in the crowd holding signs with numbers on them like auction paddles, but in my dream I feel that these are “waiting to be helped numbers”. It was then that I see a guy on the inside of the ropes and he is walking around trying to look like his in charge. All of the people shy away from him and that helps his bad ass ego inflate. I call to him at the same time as a black guy, who is standing just a bit in front of me, does. He ignores the black guy and walks up to me and asks “what the fuck do you want?” I get right in his face and ask real threateningly to please go help the black guy first, since he had clearly been waiting longer .

So he looks at me with a pseudo confused look on his mug but he does it, I can’t hear what they are saying but I se the black guy start nodding and hen walk away. This hillbilly walks up to me and asks” Yer satisfied now I take it” I reply “Yes, I am , Now did you Tow my car?
HB – Yeah I did!
Me- Well I want it back
HB – Well you cain’t have it.
Me- What gives you the right to tow all of these peoples cars and not let them leave?
HB- I’s got one of them dollar bill things and it says right on there that I can do this!
Me-???WHAT?? Fuck you it does not! At this time I crawl under the ropes and it seems that no one in the crowd had thought to do that yet of if they did they were intimidated enough to go back under and to wait patiently for their cars. I’m neither of those traits, Patience and easily intimidated….not me.
HB- Git yer ass on the other side of the rope!
ME-Or what?
HB- I’ll kick your ass
Me- You feeling froggy ? Jump mother fucker!
HB- you think I’m doing wrong why don’t you call the cops?
Me- Yeah I will but I won’t call the law in this town I’m calling the state troopers and maybe the DA from (I think I said Washington, but I’m not sure) The man paled at this suggestion. I could see his bravado getting smaller the more I talked.
HB-But you cain’t do that, I got one of them dollar bills…..
Me- I think what you got is a nice racket selling these stolen cars back to their owners and your using the money for compound up in the mountains where you spout religious rhetoric like that guy in Waco Texas.
HB-(Eyes bugging out of his head, getting physically smaller as his ego is battered) I’m just building a home for my family, and all of their families!
Me- Bullshit! You’re trying to be like David Koresh and what you need to do is to stop worrying about that dollar and start worrying about your eternal soul burning in the hells of fire and brimstone.

At this time he had shrunk to the size of your average math teacher and was laying in a ball on the ground, he looked at me like I was the devil himself and he started running for his car and he sped off. I turned to say something to the crowd…….


And the fucking TV came on!

We use it as our alarm clock and it is such a pain to reset it I just turn it off by hand or get up. Since this is Saturday and I was planning on sleeping in, this weird assed dream compelled me to get up, and write it down.

So what the fuck does it all mean? Ask your friends and family members, because I think this is my calling to gather the masses and wage war on stupidity.

There seems to be a new front on the job horizon! I can say without impunity that it is making me giddy as a school girl! I can’t say more then that because these pages have ears but there is a possibility that I will be log term happy in a matter of months! And I’m not talking hitting the lottery either! I’m talking all about the real deal1 (Although I did buy the winning ticket this morning! 290 MILLION!! Are you kidding me?)

So in other news I need to get back in the gym I have become sort of sloppy. Me and Bouby have taken a month off of our diet because we were tired of all of the cooking and eating the same shit all of the time so we stopped and now I feel sluggish and mopey. I know it is a vicious circle where you are too tired to work out because you stopped working out and have lost the energy to work out because you don’t work out. See what I mean it is even hard to type.

A new larger version of TV Guide is out. Not only is sitting in front of the TV making us fatter, it's even making TV Guide bigger.

The Belgian arm of Unicef wanted an attention-getting TV ad for their campaign, "Don't let war affect the lives of children." So they made an animated spot showing happy Smurfs dancing in Smurf village with bunnies and bluebirds. Suddenly, warplanes appear and napalm them. The ad ends with Baby Smurf crying, surrounded by flames and prone Smurfs. They plan to air it only after 9 p.m., but a preview on the evening news left adults shocked and children crying in terror. The ad agency said they originally wanted to make it even more like a real war, with Smurfs losing arms and heads, but Unicef said no. That's the trouble with Unicef: no sense of humor...They should've let the "South Park" guys make it.

Tihomir "Tiger" Titschko of Bulgaria has won the first European Heavyweight Chessboxing Championship in Germany. Competitors alternate four-minute rounds of chess with two-minute rounds of boxing. It can go for a maximum of 11 rounds, or until either a knockout or a checkmate. Titschko beat German champ Andreas "Doomsday" Schneider with a checkmate in the 9th round. A spokesperson for the World Chess Boxing Organization said, "The basic idea in chessboxing is to combine the #1 thinking sport and the #1 fighting sport into a hybrid that demands the most of its competitors, both mentally and physically." …This sounds like the way my family used to play Monopoly.

This is the funniest thing I have seen in a really long time! Just run your mouse over the pictures! Click Here

As promised here is some groovy pictures of the Cooler Go-Cart, Now who is going to place the first order?

Ahh, this weekend was good! I spent as much time on the road as I did partying and have9inbg a good time but it was all very, very worth it. Wichita is a dirty little burg with a bunch of dirty people in it but since my friend Jason and his wife Heather live in the new and shiny part it was relatively dirty free.

I did start off disappointing my host when I noticed the keg that he bought was Keystone light. Now, I’m all for beer, don’t get me wrong and in my youth I would have relished in the fact that free beer is free beer! However since the invention of Keystone beer I haven’t been able to drink more then 2 of them before I get a raging headache and a oily taste in my mouth that doesn’t go away for 2 days. I think it was what ever they were using to “line” the cans with back in the early 90’s when that was their sales pitch. “Bottle beer taste in a can”, but whatever it was it made me sick.

So I sent my older brother to the liquor store to buy some supplies. As he was leaving to go to the store Jason asked what the deal was, and I told him my plight, and he was very sad because he didn’t take a poll and was earmarking at least 1/3 of the keg for my personal consumption. Normally on a trip like this I would have obliged him but since it was the “stone” alas I couldn’t.

Needless to say when the brother got back with a ½ gallon of Captain Morgan I was pretty well set. And come morning with the help of one of our high school friends Angie that bottle was empty, and I was out 10 bucks from the marathon Texas hold’em tourney in which I only participated in to slow my rum consumption.

But the main reason why I was there was to watch Jason’s boy play football. For those of you who have seen the movie “Rudy” you will understand the way I felt as I watched Jason play when he was in high school, he was 5 ft nothing, 100 and nothing lbs, and had hardly a spec of natural ability. But the kid had heart. I was only lucky enough to see him play one time in High School and it was the game where he got his one and only lifetime interception….Quite the fluke really, but none the less it was the high light of a rather ordinary football career, and I got the opportunity to see it happen.

In all reality Saturday’s game watching his son play might be the only time I get to see him play too, and wouldn’t you know it the little shit got an interception too. I couldn’t have been any prouder. That and the Boy has a lot more talent then his dad does/did have. And He'll need it kick the asses of all of the boys who want to date his sister, she is a cutie!!

Then it was back into the car for the 3 hour trip home and a shopping spree that lasted most of the afternoon. I was still kind of hung over but none the worse for wear really, but I doubt seriously if there will be any large rum consumption, for a fairly long time.

One of the guests called Jason before he came over asking if he needed to bring anything and Jason made him promise to bring the “toy”, this of course sparked the attention of my Brother, who is gay, because who doesn’t like a good toy now and again! I had loftier goals then my orifices for any toys one of Jason’s friends might be bringing.


This guy and his wife show up riding what appears to be a go-cart. But in reality it was so much more. Had I been more sober I would have snapped a picture or 10 because this thing was cool! He had spent some down time and a couple of hundred bucks building this contraption and now I want one.

He had taken an old riding mower frame and steering, and the back fenders. He then replaced the engine with a 3 ½ horse Briggs and Stratton motor, and turned an old cooler into a seat. So he had a completely mobile beer stand that was semi street legal with the exception of the open containers held in the two built in beer holders. He and his wife proceeded to get so drunk that at the end of the night they couldn’t even drive their cooler home, and had to walk.. As soon as I get pictures of that thing I’ll show how cool it really is to have a 3 horse powered, riding cooler complete with beverage holders and headlights!

Supermodel" Tyra Banks is "really tired of this rumor," she says. "It's something that's followed me forever." What's that? A "rumor that I have fake breasts. But I just want to show you something," she said on her TV show as she reached under her shirt and removed her bra. "This is the natural me," she declared. "But this probably isn't enough for some people, so I'm going to take it a step further." She had a plastic surgeon come on stage and perform a live sonogram of her breasts to prove there were no implants. "Tyra Banks has natural breasts," concluded Dr. Garth Fisher....With that important crisis averted, we can now turn to trivial things like war and hurricane recovery.

Meth addicts in the work place-They work REAL hard for 30 days, but then they drop dead and you have find new ones, but since they tend to breed like rats it is a pretty good deal.

This life is a one way journey. There are no return tickets to this life. Once you’re gone that is it. I’m not saying that you won’t come back as a monkey or a tree frog, but THIS life as you know it is only going to happen the one time.

I have a friend of a friend, who’s sister’s cousin’s uncle’s brother buddy from the war uses limewire and last night he decided to download the movie “Constantine” and this morning when I …I mean he woke up and checked the down load he was super surprised to find it was Mexican porn! And I don’t mean all Latina ladies or anything like that I mean it was good old fashioned American porn DUBBED in Spanish! How freaky is that

Have you heard that Kevin Federline is back to his old tricks of being an sperm doner and then basically ditching the Mom. He has spent his time partying and hitting golf balls and talking on the phone until all hours of the night! Why do I care you might ask? Well I don’t I just like to make fun of stupid people and that dumb bitch should have saw this coming! Unless the sun rises and sets in her vagina, then it isn’t special and since he left his then 1st baby’s momma who was preggers at the time why would he want to wait the allotted 2-3 weeks healing period before he hits that again? What a stupid woman. I should call Kev up and see where he got his brass balls implanted.

National Porn Sunday is coming up this weekend, get your lube and keep it handy!

I’m on my way to Wichita this weekend to see a friends kid play football and then to spend the day Saturday drinking heavily watching K-State play football. So wish me luck and I’ll have many cocktails for all.

Here is Cinny trying to take a shower...isn't she sweet!

And from the "You've got to be fucking kidding me" Dept.;
If you're upset that your digital camera takes blurry, crappy pictures, lighten up. You might actually be capturing a person's aura.
That's the view of Barbara Gray -- energy healer and aura expert -- who says the digital camera is a great tool to examine colorful auras because it "catches things that the eye can't."
Gray admits she usually observes others' auras by just looking at them and unfocusing her eyes, but one day after meditating, her body felt so energized she thought, "I wonder what would happen if we took a picture."
She says her friend snapped a photo of her and the digital camera revealed Gray's plain white shirt half-covered with pink, gold and green colors.
A casual observer might assume the camera was lousy but Gray says she has since looked at other photos and seen not only auras, but orbs, or white balls, which she says represent people who have passed on.
She warns people to watch out when taking pictures at funerals or a historical site like Gettysburg, because she says, "There are so many orbs hanging around."

And from the "NO SHIT SHERLOCK" vault;
NEW YORK (Wireless Flash) -- Steroid king Jose Canseco may have been hitting the long ball during his playing heyday, but off the field he was packing no balls at all.
That's according to his ex-wife and cover girl for September's Playboy, Jessica Canseco, who says Jose's balls from his frequent steroid use were almost non- existent.
In her words, "We're talking about marbles."
Still, the busty blonde bombshell, who was married to the former Oakland Athletics and Texas Rangers slugger from 1996-2000, says it didn't affect Jose's performance in bed since "we all know he was having a lot of sex," referring to the dozens of women she caught him cheating with.
The former Hooters hottie goes into more detail about her life with Jose in her book, Juicy: Confessions of a Former Baseball Wife (Regan Books), which hits stores Sept. 6.

And finally the Hollywood Minute;

It's reported that Kate Moss' name has become slang for cocaine in London. Not because Kate was caught doing it, because she's white, weighs about a gram and can fit in a straw.

Vin Diesel had some triple-X intentions with a young lady in the Dominican Republic and now he's catching heat for it in the press down there. It seems Vin was making the moves on a 23-year-old architecture student at the exclusive Santo Domingo club Praia. However, things took an ugly turn when he invited her back to his hotel and she refused. Vin asked her, "You think this is a game?" He went on to say, "I could be with thousands of girls if I wanted to, but I want to be with you." Vin then called over the club's security people and had the woman escorted out because she refused his advances. A rep for Diesel had no immediate comment.

It's a boy for Nicolas Cage and his wife, Alice Kim. Kal-el Coppola Cage was born yesterday morning in New York City. If you're curious, Kal-el is the birth name of Superman on the planet Krypton. Of course, Coppola is Cage's family name. His uncle is director Francis Ford Coppola.

San Francisco is still a groovy place!

We arrived here on Wednesday afternoon and promptly missed three subway trains due to phone call sightseeing and just second guessing ourselves. Well ok Second guessing and not being forceful enough with my traveling companion. But we made it to the hotel shortly. The view from the train was stunning, the trip was quick and we walked right past our hotel which according to mapquest was .01 miles from the BART station. Well it might be but it is also translates into RIGHT OUT SIDE OUR FUCKING DOOR.

So when we finally got into the room and smelled the difference between clean country air and what apparently is some good old fashioned smog/fog/street people stench it was quite a good time. I checked my voice mail and quickly found that Mr. Dusty Pork Tornado, and called and left me a message, I called him back and he was going to meet us at the front of the trade show hall where he was working/attending and give us a quick run down of his “day job”. It was then Al, (I call him that because that is his name) and went back outside to check out the surroundings, it was then I discovered that if I can’t see the sun, I have no idea what direction I’m facing.

In city’s like SF where there are literally 1000’s of buildings over 5 stories it is hard to get a fix on exactly where the light is coming from. So this retard gets us going in the wrong direction, but I don’t admit it, just yet I let it linger on until Thursday…But any way we decide that by the time we get back to where we were going to meet Dusty we would never make it, so we gave up. .. Ok just the idea of going to the Mascone center. We instead called Dusty back and proceeded to a place that we both knew and it lo and behold served alcohol. So Al and I started drinking and eating our dinner. When he showed up it was a absolute blast.

If you ever have the opportunity to chat with Dusty in person take the time to do it. He is a genuine person and should be praised like a demi god at the very least.(He has also paid me to say that.) I ended up going with him and a couple of his sales guys at a party where there were more geeks/freaks/and nerds in one room then I have ever seen. I swear I could have cleared the hotel if I would have yelled “HOLY SHIT WILLIAM SHATNER” and the whole room with the exception of the vapid boob/booth girls and Dusty. It was the craziest thing ever. But I did get to meet his She Boss and learned about her Hubby “Big Skinny” and I also got to meet the amazingly petite cohort, who’s hands would make even my tiny gherkin look “John Holms-ish” That and the two sales guys Woody and Drew, That is who they look like not what they do by the way.

Woody Harrleson AKA Eric

Drew Cary AKA David

Still with me good.

Well the six plus of us had a lot of fun drinking beer and laughing at each other stories about who’s clients were the dumbest, men giving birth, and Indians. (feathers not dots). So around 10 pm or so PST, the party is over and it is time to head back to the Smells So Well Hotel, It was a fun night. I highly recommend it.

I apparently made a pretty good impression on Boss lady because she told Pork how much fun she had! So I hope they give him another jet plane filled with Jelly beans as a bonus again this year.

Pork, I had a blast and if you’re ever in KC trying to get something to Sprint, let me know because you spent entirely too much on beverages. My turn next time. Or if really want I can just send the beer and we will have a virtual party. Have a good time in Hawaii with the Skirt and I hope our paths in the future at least once.

The Plane ride home was somewhat uneventful. All of our landing gear went up and down as it was supposed to, the beverages were cold and plentiful and we were 30 mins late.

I know it isn’t a big deal but somehow we flew back from the west coast stuck behind an older jet who had it’s left turn signal on the entire 1300+ miles. I swear to Christ I have no idea how we pulled off being late.

For those people who fly from the left to the right you have all experienced the glory of the jet stream. 999 times out of a 1000, the plane will leave on time and arrive 30 mins early. Well not in this case. Some how when we took off and when we landed we lost not only the 15 mins we saved by being good cattle and sheep and finding our seats and stowing all of our carry on’s. Some of us had 3-4 times the LEGAL amount of carry on’s, but we also lost the 30 minutes that we usually save by hitching a ride on the jet stream.

Fuck no! And then when we get to the baggage carousels everyone rushes up to the revolving stainless steel rack and waits for their baggage. And since we all know that the people who do this obviously KNOW where their bags are and when they will be coming out, so yes that would be perfect place for them in the way of everyone elses bags that really do come off the plane first!

Fucking cockmonkeys!

And Then I crawled into my brothers car and drove 3 hours to hunt deer with my bow, and saw one lone doe, along with one squirrel, one bunny, 5000 mosquitos and a grasshopper. I didn't not see anything I could shoot at. But I did get to spend a lot of time with my Dad and my brother, which was fun.

From Left to right: Nightmare, Pork Tornado, David, Waitress, and Eric. Photo taken by the ever present camera man Al.

And since NoGoodDaddy thinks I photoshopped him in here is a different picture of the 5 of us!