Tuesday, May 21, 2013
This sign is outside a little corner market in my neighborhood. To me, it seems awfully close to a heavily-accented mispronunciation of Lunds (a grocery store chain we also have in the area).
It seemed pretty funny to me. Like the thought of an Asian guy choosing the name of his store based entirely on a self-deprecating joke. I laughed. I hope that doesn't make me racist.
Sunday, May 19, 2013
You know the vicious pack of raccoons I met as a child? Well, when I went to Mexico this year, I met the Dr. Jekyls to those horrific Mr. Hydes.
These little guys were everywhere. And, like the raccoons I told you about, they were relentless beggars.
But, unlike the raccoons I had met, these guys were entirely nonviolent. They mostly acted like they wanted to be your very best friend.
Take note, raccoons. Take note. This is how it's done.
Thursday, May 16, 2013
Raccoons are tricky animals. They look kind of adorable but it turns out they're actually blood thirsty monsters. I know that last bit to be true because I experienced their vicious blood lust first hand as a child.
When I was about twelve, my family went camping with my mom's brother and his family. When the fire was out and it was time to go to bed, the parents slept in one tent and the kids slept in another one. We sat in our tent and played cards instead of going to sleep, and after a while we went out to the picnic table to eat some potato chips. And then we were all scarred for life.
We were only out there for a minute or two before we saw the first pair of glowing eyes peering out from the brush. Then we saw another. And another. Then a pack of raccoons crept toward us through the dark. They did not look like ordinary raccoons. Those things were obviously well fed from the crampground scraps and I swear some of them were the size of full grown collies. They kept inching closer, growling and hissing as they tried to edge in front of each other. They were frighteningly aggressive and they had us surrounded.
We realized they were after our potato chips, and my cousin, Jimmy, threw a handful off to the side, hoping it'd distract the raccoons and open up a route for escape. It kind of worked; some of them started fighting over the crumbs, but four or five more came out of nowhere and took their spots. So then we tried throwing the whole bag. But the same thing happened and those godless killers thought we still had more.
Trapped on the tabletop, the four of us huddled together pretty much accepting our fate as a scary campfire story to tell future generations. Finally, my dad poked his head out of the tent to investigate all the commotion. He was actually kind of surprised by the number and size of the raccoons, too. He came out with a pillow and shooed them away while we practically dove into our tent in unison.
I swear to God, the next day we found raccoon blood around the campsite from when those monsters were fighting each other. Obviously, we barely escaped with out lives.
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Mothers are the amazing. Seriously. They're like god damn saints when you think about it. Think of all the shit you put your mom through (especially when you were in high school), and she still loves the crap out of you. Right? Amazing.
I'd like to use this as an opportunity to apologize to my mom for some the shit I put her through.
|Mama and me|
-- Sorry about the time you found a bottle of vodka in my closet. (I suppose I should mention the birth control and the cigarettes while I'm at it.)
-- Sorry for running away from you at the county fair when I was four.
-- Sorry about the time Amy and I smoked cigarettes in my bedroom. (You might not actually know about that one.)
-- Sorry for leaving those crayons in front of the vent, and the super vibrant rainbow stains in the carpet that resulted.
-- Sorry about begging you to let me paint a "really awesome design" on my wall and then only finishing about a sixth of it.
Yeah, Mom, I can't believe you didn't just give me away a long time ago. But thanks for not doing that. You're the best.
Thursday, May 9, 2013
Want a fun activity? Go back and read some of your old text messages, but take them completely out of context. You and your friends will sound like crazy people. Here are some of the gems from my phone:
-- Great. Now the atheists are getting preachy.
-- Also, a woman with one of those sticks blind people use just stopped to look at something. Today is confusing.
-- She's a mouthy little bitch for a three year old!
-- Just so you know, that was technically a haiku.
-- Old timey french porn!
-- Oh. Congratulations. On the anniversary, not the funeral. Unless you were trying to kill that person. Then congratulations indeed.
-- Gordy got stung by a bee in the mouth.
-- Cook me dinner. Just throw it away when you are done, but text me a picture first.
-- Swordfish live less than ten years.
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
Updated: My dad pointed out that I forgot Herbert Hoover. So, shit. It probably would have been something about a vacuum. I don't know. The inspiration just isn't there today.
I had trouble falling asleep the other night. That doesn't happen to me very often, so I'm not really sure how you're supposed to deal with it.
Word on the street is that you're supposed to count sheep, but that ended up getting me all flustered. Are you supposed to count them as a big herd in a pen? Or are you supposed to count them as they walk by one by one? I tried the latter, but then I got distracted by the ones that had already walked by and gathered off to the side. I wanted to know what they were up to.
So I finally said fuck it. Instead I came up with frat house nicknames for all of the U.S. Presidents. They are terrible. And I am going to share them with you. You're welcome.
George Washington - G Dubs
John Adams - Number Two
Thomas Jefferson - TJ
James Madison - Mad Man
James Monroe - Five Spot
John Quincy Adams - Q Tip
Andrew Jackson - Ajax
Martin Van Buren - Eight Ball
William Henry Harrison - Scary Harry
John Tyler - JT
James K. Polk - Poker Face
Zachary Taylor - Zack Attack
Millard Fillmore - Milli Vanilli
Franklin Pierce - Frankie P
James Buchanan - Bucky
Abraham Lincoln - Abelicious
Andrew Johnson - AJ
Ulysses S. Grant - U Boat
Rutherford B. Hayes - Ruthie
James Garfield - Slim
Chester A. Arthur - Chestnuts
Grover Cleavland - Ohio
Benjamin Harrison - Big Ben
William McKinley - Mack
Theodore Roosevelt - Papa Bear
William Taft - T Train
Woodrow Wilson - Woodie
Warren G. Harding - G Unit
Calvin Coolidge - Cool Cal
Franklin Roosevelt - Rosie
Harry Truman - H Bomb
Dwight D. Eisenhower - Double Ds
John F. Kennedy - Fritz
Lyndon B. Johnson - BJ
Richard Nixon - Slick Dick
Gerald Ford - Model T
Jimmy Carter - JC
Ronald Reagan - Four-O
George Bush - Bushwacker
Bill Clinton - Spanky
George W. Bush - Junior
Barack Obama - Beezy
Sunday, May 5, 2013
I lived with my good friend, Kayla, for a couple of years after college. One day, after I brought home a decorative gun for our living room, she predicted that I would have "the weirdest house someday." She turned out to be very, very accurate.
I love my house, but if I try to look at it objectively I guess I do have some weird shit.
|The gun that started it all.|
|It took forever to get the boyfriend to agree to this.|
|It was also hard to explain why we needed this for over the desk.|