I had a dream...

Last night I had a dream. I don't remember much of it, but part of it stands out. I was looking at a tarantula on the wall, and his face was burnt... like, physically marred. He was in pain and I felt sorry for him. So I picked him up and set him on one of the ceiling fan blades in my room. There he turned into a hawk. A medium sized one, and he began cleaning his wings with his beak. After he had completely groomed himself, he turned into a humongous bald eagle. Like, he was massive and was bending the fan blades down. Then I woke up.

If I only had a dollar every time i heard...

You know how people say "man, if i only had a dollar everytime i heard that..." right after something often repeated is mentioned? Here are some things would likely result in few dollars: "Hey, is this delicious coffee or deadly hot lava?" "Oh Shit! That was my sister on the phone. Apparantly my grandma was just shot to death in a Taco Bell." "Ok. Really... Am I the only one that's been shitting blood or is it a national phenomena?" "Hey! Watch how fast I can eat this entire bag of Ole' Roy dog food!" "Herpes? AGAIN?!" "...and if it's a girl, we're going to name her Dickballs." "Does anyone have a problem if I eat these refrigerator magnets?" "Get Willie Nelson, Lou Rawls, and Tom Selleck on the phone NOW! Fucking do it. See if I care!" "Oh dear. Our vacation home burned to the ground and I was in it!" "Has anyone seen my $5,000,000 worth of animal crackers? It would seem I've misplaced them..." "I was widdled nearly to death." "Yeah, I ran a marathon once. It wasn't like one of those super long ones but motherfucker it was long enough. When I finished, my legs looked like pantyhose stuffed with cans of peas and corn flecked with concrete chips and an egg..." "WOAH NOW! WOOOOOOAH... Ok, The horseplay with the calf is getting out of hand!" "Hey Bitch! The bellboy stole our deli-sliced ham! This shit is NOT cool, so you better get off the fucking couch, lest I lay the smack down." "Wrestle that pit bull." "GRIBBLESHITS! GRIBBLESHITS! YAAAAAAAAAAY HORNGNEDBAUM!" "Who forgot to lay the tarp down? Now Uncle Peachtree's white linens are ruined and there's a green stain on the wall. Let's break out the Vegetable Oil and get to work... This could literally take all night..." "We broke the legs off the couch and ate them." "Get out of the tree, please. We don't even know you." "Ok, let's just calm down here. You can be the pirate but this is the last time. Everyone knows thats not how real life works..." "I don't have a cell phone. I do however have cellophane, invented by Jacques E. Brandenberger in 1908, a Swiss textile engineer who first thought of the idea for a clear, protective, packaging layer in 1900." "My new puppy's paws are made of latex, and everywhere he goes he leaves a pretty pink paw print." "Ok, boys. The name of the game is Numbers. First one to count to 406 wins. Ready? BEGIN! 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10-11-12-13..." "Let's insulate the house with white chocolate!" "The phone is ringing, will you please answer it? Yes, the phone. Yes. Ok, also - could you put that Jack Russell terrier in the oven? Thank you, you're an angel." "As a child, our mother told us to never wish on stars. She said it could result in the Wizard of Death coming into our rooms and quizzing us. She also said that if we got a question wrong, we would probably be drafted as a supplemental pick to the Montreal Expos baseball team." and finally "That's not a bow, it's a knot. And it's Knot Funny... HE HI HO HO HE HE HEEEEEEYAH!"

World's Wildest Police Videos.

Ok.

Have you ever seen that Fox show World's Wildest Police Videos? It's the one hosted by this guy:


His name is Sheriff John Bunell and he is a bad ass. He will seriously fuck you up. He will come to your house and arrest you, while saying things like "I guess it doesn't pay to run from the long arm of the law" or "This perp is getting a joyride... STRAIGHT TO JAIL" or something like that. And the thing is that I honestly believe him. It's like the total opposite of when William Shattner hosted Rescue 911. I didn't believe Shattner could have anything to do with emergency response, but I DO believe Sheriff John Bunnell could engage in some serious police brutality on somebody's ass.

This show is like a car accident. While flipping through channels, everyone has to stop on it for a second. It could be consdensed into about 5 minutes. They literally show every part of every clip about 15 times. Over and over again. All the while, Sheriff Bunnell is saying some idiotic shit. I'd love to see bios of the people who write his retarded dialogue. They are probably people who have been arrested on this show and their sentence is that they have to write incredibly stupid shit for this show.

Also, I love the dubbed in crashes and police sirens. Especially when the camera filming is in a helicopter thousands of feet above. I'm sure it would be a boring show if there was no sound, but do you believe that they could honestly record the soundtrack of what is actually happening. Like there's a superpowerful microphone on the helicopter or something?

I'm waiting for John Bunnell to jump out of the police car and arm tackle someone who's running away. Or ram someone with his "unit" (what he calls EVERY police car) and physically take them into custody. Or even better yet, arrive to the scene of an accident riding a lion and commanding a herd of wild beasts... calling on thousands of hawks and eagles to attack everyone standing around. Beastmaster John Bunnell screaming for the slaughter of hundreds of people.

Now that would be a good show.

Anyways, I'm headed to Orlando this weekend for yet another wedding. Please pray for me that I don't die in a horrible ball of flames and death. I hope John Bunnell is on my plane.

My Army of Monkeys and Horses.

i'm bored and yesterday i finished the majority of work i had to do for this week. so i figured what the hell. post a blog. yesterday we had band practice - which is really just an excuse for me to drink beer. after that, i went to Champs (or is it Champps... or Chammps...) and ate with a few people. it was kind of funny, because right before practice, i told talley and paul i was eating at Champs and they both laughed because they thought it was the shoe store. wouldn't that be interesting? so i went to the restaurant all the while thinking how funny it would be to eat in the shoe store, and drank even more. luckilly it's only about 2 miles from my house. when i finally got home, i opened another beer in the fridge and spent about 45 minutes trying to convnce the wild housecat that lives outside my house to come INSIDE the house because it was warmer in there. i finally warmed up some deli sliced turkey in the microwave and set it inside the front door. when the cat started eating the turkey, i shut the door and said "see? doesn't it feel much warmer in the house"? she probably thought so for a minute but then realized she was inside and started making all kind of fucked up meows and noises. i opened the door and with the quickness... she was up and out. i was sad because i thought i was being like St. Francis of Assissi, and i walked outside and told the cat this. then i started thinking how great it would be to have dominion and command over all animals, complete mind control. i would have an army of wild horses with chimpanzees on their back. the horse for the speed. the monkey for dexterity. i would send these armies over to old people's houses. as the herd of monkeys and horses approached the house, one of the chimps (the lead monkey) would get off the horse and quietly open the front door. he would then walk back to his horse, get on it and then lead the charge... 10, 20, 30 horses being ridden by monkeys running wild through the house. knocking over lamps... attacking the old people in thier beds... fucking awesome. alls well that ends well. i passed out on the couch with all my clothes on and woke up at 2 in the morning and my hand was asleep. michelle wie was on television on a replay of ESPN's Sportcenter. so i got up and went to bed.

the night i got beat up

Here's a little story people have been reminding me of lately. Now, i haven't been in many fights in my life. it's just not something i really want to do. i assume nobody likes to get punched in the head, neck, chest, face, eyes, or mouth but i guess you just never know...

let's flash back to march 2002. i was manic, depressed, and unstable. i'd just gotten out of a super long relationship that had spanned my senior year of high school all the way thru college. it was a love-hate thing. it was fueled by teenage angst and later by twixter post-college rage. head over heels one minute and painfully low the next.

one night while leaving a super bowl party, i had an revealation. get out of this now. virtually the end of a 7 year fight came to a denoument. it was like the voice of God telling me "Look... this just isn't in the cards for you people. You take my name in vain too much...". it was either that or the gallons of beer i drank that night. regardless, i had a long drive home from Mike's in Gonzales and plenty of time to think. by the time i got home, the decision had been made. the fights were over...

but i suppose we had one REALLY GOOD fight left in us.

easter weekend, 2002. me and a bunch of friends had gathered at my parents house to do a little pre-partying and night planning. getting a buzz and deciding what bar to go to. it was here that my friends revealed that most of them had been invited to a party at my ex-girlfriend's house. she'd informed one of them about how awesome it was going to be and how there was going to be a spacewalk, a pool filled with pudding, jello shots - you name it. my friends, being the stand up folk that they are, were like "man, we really want to go to this. i mean, there might be naked chicks" and all this shit. of course.

i, being the post-volitile man child i was at the time, became furious. my friends weren't gonna go to a party and leave ME at home!!! i had 2 options at that point: raise hell and tell them we should all just go somewhere else; or i could go to the party with them. unfortunately i opted for the latter, thus putting into motion a wave of events that should have never happened. we packed a couple of ice chests, got in a few cars, and ventured into the promised land.

when we arrived, i was amazed at all the cars. i'll give her credit - this was a pretty good party. people were running around out of thier minds. there was a slip-n-slide (or a piece of visquine caked over the lawn with a nearby hose), spacewalk, all kinds of shit. scantilly clad girls were covered in pudding, water, pieces of grass, dirt... it was an interesting scene to say the least. she'd also made about 5 billion jello shots, to which my friends helped themselves to aggregiously.

booze, girls, the hose, and a bunch of people we don't know are not a good combination for my clan. as the hours ticked by, i watched my buddy Dustin take at least 10 shots. now, you have to know him to appreciate him. he's an odd one and engages in questionable behavior when the alcohol flows. always pulls off the shirt and starts talking amazing amounts of shit. a very powerful country accent (even though he's not from the country) and a touch of madness, combined with his 5 foot frame mixed with everclear was a death sentence for all of us. he's walking up to girls and saying things like "yall wanna fuck?" and "yall wanna see it?", etc...

by 2 am or so, it had come to a boiling point. it was getting crucial that we got him out of there. every girl in the party had now seen him with his pants down as he propostioned them. it wasn't pretty. finaly he walked up to the wrong girl, a friend of ours from way back but no longer single. in fact, surrounded by her boyfriend and several of his friends. they were all standing around their car and getting ready to leave. dustin was smashing his pecker against the passenger side window and screaming "YOU WANNA SEE IT?!" we were like "Oh my God, this is not good...". her boyfrined's pals were not amused and said something along the lines of "Bruh, you better get the fuck out of here or, bruh, we're gonna kick your ass... bruh" or the like. mac, matt allen, and myself (the only ones in my click left at the party) were trying feverishly to get dustin into mac's car. i remember saying "hey man. he's drunk. we're getting him out of here" and mac saying something like that as well.

just then, dustin tears into this "FUCK YALL MOTHERFUCKERS. I'LL BEAT ALL YOUR ASSES" and we're like "No. You won't. Let's just get in the car". The goons are adding fuel to the fire, saying "You better get that motherfucker out of here" and we're like "yeah, we're trying" as we goad dustin to the car. Dustin continues with "Let me go. I'm gonna go beat the shit out of those motherfuckers" and we're like "Come on, man - you're wasted". Finally we got him into the backseat of the car, shut his door, and we all walked to our corresponding car doors and got inside. As soon as we shut our doors, Dustin got out.

I remember looking at all of them in the car, realizing that things were about to get bad. Mac looking into the backseat from the driver's seat. Matt looking into the backseat from the front passenger seat. Me looking at the both of them from the backseat. There was this collective "Oh shit. Here we go" that came out of all of us. Dustin was outside screaming, daring them to come over. As we all opened our doors, one of them finally got tired of hearing his shit and walked over to him.

We all walked to the back of the car and one of them lunged for Dustin. As he tried to move out of the way and assume a fighting stance, his lower leg just snapped. Nobody had laid a hand on him. Just the way he pivoted. He just sort of crumbled, holding his leg going "Motherfucker!". So the guy sort of leans over him like he's going to hit him and Mac pulls him back.

Next thing I know, Mac is on the ground getting pummeled. left. right. left. right...in the face. I'm like "Hey, man. Just get off of him.." and tried to pull him off but I was hardly slowing the blows. Finally I started punching the guy in the back of the head until he stopped.

That's when the melee began. One of the other dudes threw me onto the ground and had his knee on my right arm. He's punching away while one of the other guys comes over and is punching me as well. I'm using my left arm to try and sort of deflect the punches but they just keep coming. Bap Bap Bap Bap. I remember thinking "Ok. Ow. Ok. Come on. Please stop hitting me. Ow. Dammit. This is rediculous. We're making fools of ourselves..." but the guy just kept pounding away.

Eventually they got tired of beating us. We got up and assessed the damage. I remember picking Dustin up and putting him in the car. It was ironic that the guy that got us into all this had never thrown a punch. My lip was bleeding but that was all. I thought "Wow, all that punching in the face and all I got was a busted lip?". Mac looked ok (at the time). I remember looking up and everyone at the party was just looking at us. Everyone was thinking "Oh. It was that Ex-Boyfriend that caused all this trouble."

Dustin immedietly starts talking about how needs to go to the hospital. We kept telling him he would be ok and that if we went to he hospital they would call his parents. "I don't fucking care, man. My leg is seriously broken, i know it...". So we head to OLOL and proceed to spend the next 5 hours there...

All in all, Dustin required major surgery on his leg involving a metal plate. Mac's eyes were both black, and I got a busted lip. I called the ex-gf the next day to apologize but it did little good. Getting punched in the face doesn't hurt that bad, but it makes for a great story.

Wesley Willis once sang about the Rock and Roll McDonalds. Well, I think I finally found it. A couple of weeks ago, i had to drive to Lafayette for my job. We have a couple of active things going on around ULL and every now and then, they pull my card to go look at them. Well, a few friday's ago I just happened to get the nod. It wasn't too bad, because I'd worked the bar the night before and got off at around 3, but by being on drive detail to old Acadiana, it nets me about an hour extra of sleep. So anyways, I didn't have to wake up until 8 which is good. It also coincides with the fact that I usually top my bar nights off with a little midnight snack from Jack in the Box (home of the 99 cent heart attack)...

Well, like a real Jack in the Box - you never know when it's going to pop out. It's like those toys from when you were a kid - you turn the little crank and SURPRISE! So I'm just past Breaux Bridge when I feel the first signs of discomfort. I can tell that this one is going to be bad too. My stomach is just going crazy rumbling and tumbling and it's just not a good situation. To top it off, I had that post late night dry sweat thing going on, and my hair was sort of matted down and I was all unshaven (just giving you a visual). You know the look I'm talking about. Well, you know how that look feels? Just horrible. Like, I'm leaning forward over the steering wheel - mouth open, slightly frowning. So finally I'm nearing the University exit and I'm like "Man, I'm going to have to take care of some buisness soon"... So I pulled into a Circle K instincively, then realized this would be the worst place to do what I have to do. I mean, I've never had a good experience in a Circle K bathroom. So I turn around and continue driving. Then I see a McDonalds. I mean, this can't be so bad. It's almost 10, the breakfast rush is probably out of the way (you have to plan these things...), and there's not too many cars in the parking lot. Just a van. A long one with a lot of windows with some church listed on the side of it. Nothing out of the ordinary.

So I walk inside, visibly uncomfortable - hastily walking fast and awkward to the bathroom. As i'm making my way through the dining room, there's a bunch of people, more than i'd think would be in here, sitting at tables together. They're also wearing these little green chords around their necks attached to those laminate backstage pass looking things. I really think nothing of it, because at this point i know that time is of the essence. If I don't get in this bathroom now, i'm going to have a VERY bad day in Lafayette if you know what i mean.

I open the bathroom door and thank God it's empty. It's nice to know that every McD's bathroom is fairly uniform: brown tile, beige walls with that orangepeel finish, lots of flourescent light. There's usually a papertowel dispenser next to an electric blower in which someone has most certainly scratched 'step one' into reading "push butt" instead of "push button". Classic humor. I'd like to meet the first guy who came up with that one. Not to get off the subject, but I noticed most of the blower companies wised up and learned to just use pictures instead of worded instructions. That's too bad. I'd always snikered at the thought of an old man in say 1987 walking up to it after washing his hands and saying "well now, gotta dry mah hands.. lets see here... step one: push butt...ok.. oooh.. AW DAMMIT. NOW MY ASS IS ALL WET. i'm going to ask for the manager...".

Ok.. anyways, so I run into the stall, slam the door, drop down and just BLAM! you know. Do my thing. oh man.. relief. Thank you sweet Jesus. Oh thank You!!! but no sooner had I sat down I heard the door open. Ok, now - you know this is going to be bad. You NEVER want that door to open when you're in a public bathroom stall. Never. It's like you just went from taking care of one of nature's absolute most necessary things to putting on a show when you don't feel like it. It's like seeing a little dog wearing a sweater... he's not happy about it. Well, Ii wasn't happy about this. So i hear what sounds like 2 people in the bathroom shuffling around. I'm like "what in the hell are these people doing? TRYING to make me feel uncomfortable?".

Next thing i know, one of them starts going "UUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNGHHH". Now i'm freaked out. I'm like "What the fuck is going on? Could there be genuine retards in this bathroom with me? This is either going to be extremely awkward or completely hilarious - one or the other" So then the unthinkable happens. I'm sitting down on a toilet, obviously feeling vulnerable - when one of them looks over the stall. Down at me. I mean, I'm naked waste down, man.. I have pants around my ankles! There is the top half of some dudes face staring at me. I look back at him, blink for a seond, and as plain as possible say "Um, can I help you?"... The face retreats and says something in retard to the other guy, and i'm like "I'm getting the fuck out of here...". I wiped and got the hell out.

As I open the stall door, there's 2 dudes standing there looking at me with green chords on like i'm the outdsider. It was eerie. So I open the bathroom door and they're all out there. It's like "holy shit..."... Like - of all the luck, I pick the one fast food place where these guys are. Every table is filled with retarded people looking at me. Like they sent the other 2 in after me. Where's the church leader that was supposed to be watching them? Who is in charge here?! What the fuck is going on?! As I left, the first thing i thought was "Man, I should have just crapped at the Circle K". I guess the moral of the story is try and avoid fast food at all cost. If you buy it at the fast food restaurant, chances are you'll be leaving it at another fast food restaurant... The second thought i had was "I have to call Hilbun immediately. Of everyone I know, he'll probably get the most humor out of this...". So there it is.

Semi-Meaningful Tasks HURT!

what if it was your job to perform small semi-meaningful tasks that caused some pain and/or discomfort? like, what if it was your job to put keys on keyrings, or clasp and unclasp gold necklaces... (you know those circular hooks with the little barb sticking out). what if it was your job to see how many times a lighter would provide a flame, or just start pull start lawn mowers. like, thats all you did. pull start lawn mowers...all day. you know, we can invent everything in the world, but instead of just inventing new stuff - why not spend time improving what we have? i'd love beer in a bottle, without the somewhat painful job of opening it. maybe i'm a big panzy, but instead of creating a new dispenser for beer (like the party ball), why not make regular 12 oz. bottles easier to open? i mean, when you get up to 32 oz., it's a screwcap. now, why make that size easier to open? i mean, you'd have to go through several painful 12 oz. bottlecap openings to equal the far easier task of simply unscrewing a much larger 32 oz. personally, i think that by making the much bigger bottle even EASIER to open, it promotes alcoholism. but no, instead of making a domestic bottlecap thay doesn't scrape your skin all up, they'll invent some sort of new device to dispense beer into (like a new 11 oz. bottle, or a ceramic lemur coffee mug). here's another question: why does coffee have to be so hot? i mean, is that absolutely necessary? couldn't it be just a little cooler? does it have to be 4000 degrees, with the power to melt your skin off? now, instead of making even more varieties of coffee (like lattes, cappachinos, mochas), why not just make regular coffee a little less hot? i know, i could get iced coffee... but that's just it - i don't want iced coffee. i want regular coffee that isn't hotter than freaking lava. i don't know if i've mentioned this before, but i like the little warning i see on the side of to-go coffee cups. it says "Warning: The Product You Are About To Enjoy Is Extremely Hot". that's not exactly true. you're not ABOUT to enjoy it, you're ABOUT to burn your tongue like an idiot. now, it should say "Warning: The Product You Are About To Enjoy Is Too Hot To Physically Consume Right Now. Wait A Little While So You Don't Burn The Piss Out Of Yourself.". now, that would be a great warning.