At 1:19 pm today, my body will turn 30 years old. That’s 210 in dog years. This is an unbelieveable occurance to me. Who let this happen? Who is responsible for this? I want answers!
It really started this imposing feeling on me. Brett Farve just retired. An old, graying man, hobbled by injuries... at 38. Jesus Christ ascended into heaven at 33. Kurt Cobain blew his brains out at 27. But 30? What so great happens at 30? The other day, Adam said to me "Wow, 30. You know what that means? You can’t ever trust a fart again." So there it is. There’s the meaning of 30.
One night when I was 10 years old, I burst into tears and ran into the den from my bedroom into my mother’s arms. I’d made a realization. My great grandmother had passed away recently at 82 years old. For some strange reason, I’d equated years into decades, making Mawmaw Neal 8.2 years old, but luckily I was only 1.0. I asked my mom "Will I die?" and she said "Well, someday, we all die. But there’s a long time between now and then." That was in 1988, and the time between "now and then" gets shorter all the time. But as I walked back to my bedroom, I held my head high and I said "I’m never going to die." Do I have the same resolve at 30? I guess one can only hope so.
Is it time to wear more sweaters?
Is it time to buy a watch?
Is it time to get a cocker spaniel, and wear knee-high black socks?
Is it time to buy a feathered wig, and wear it on my head?
Is it time for my daily spongebath, is it time to be spoon-fed?
There it is. My 30-poem. I don’t understand what the feathered wig had to do with anything, but who knows? But you know what: I’ll close with this. I am truly blessed to have such a great girlfriend (sorry Aimee, but ’wife’ sounds too grown up today), such great friends, to have such wonderful family, to have such terrific people that surround me in this life. I love all of you dearly, and you make turning 30 a little easier.
Now if you’ll excuse me, where’s the alcohol? I still have a few hours left before 1:19.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Monday, March 24, 2008
Things I Hope to Say Today
Hopefully, sometime today I’ll be able to use the following phrases:
"You know, this is kind of like how PeeWee accused everyone of stealing his bike. Everyone was a suspect, but when he pulled up the picture of the black dude from the magic shop, people probably thought he was a huge racist."
"Did you miss me? I did!"
"I just peed in your office. Sorry."
"Mommy? MOMMY!!!" (What I would say as I randomly page every person on my office phone.)
"Wow, I just crapped a dog. Just... wow."
"You’re about to get jelly rolled." (I’d say this when I dialed a wrong number, just before hanging up.)
"How now, brown cow? Come with me if you want to live."
"Is anyone going to drink this coffee? I just made it. Seriously, like-with-my-body-just made it.."
"What do you mean I can’t use crayons on my fax cover sheets? I just changed it to read ’fax cover shits’, that’s all. And I wanted to do it in violet to make it pretty."
"Yo check it. I wore a tie to work today. And nothing else. Am I fired?"
"That glue in the fridge is totally mine. Touch it and I’ll cut your motherfucking hands off."
"Janet, I wasn’t talking about you when I said ’Janet is gross.’ I was talking about all of us. All of us, except me. And kind of... except everyone else too. So not everyone not named Janet."
"Blazza-blazza-blar-blar!"
"I’m leaving work early because I need a haircut. Not a normal haircut.. An eyebrow hair cut. It’s complicated, and these things take time."
(Calling wrong numbers, someone answers, I say): "Hello? Are you there? Are you still there? If so, why?"
"Quick! Everyone! To my office for the lunch hour Tori Amos listening party!"
(If I was a hostess at Chili’s, I’d say): "Table for two? Smoking, non-smoking, or the near riot-like atmosphere dog fighting arena we keep in the Chili’s top secret area... in my pants?"
"Where is the forklift? Janet will probably need it to lift her fork today during lunch, heh heh.."
"You know, this is kind of like how PeeWee accused everyone of stealing his bike. Everyone was a suspect, but when he pulled up the picture of the black dude from the magic shop, people probably thought he was a huge racist."
"Did you miss me? I did!"
"I just peed in your office. Sorry."
"Mommy? MOMMY!!!" (What I would say as I randomly page every person on my office phone.)
"Wow, I just crapped a dog. Just... wow."
"You’re about to get jelly rolled." (I’d say this when I dialed a wrong number, just before hanging up.)
"How now, brown cow? Come with me if you want to live."
"Is anyone going to drink this coffee? I just made it. Seriously, like-with-my-body-just made it.."
"What do you mean I can’t use crayons on my fax cover sheets? I just changed it to read ’fax cover shits’, that’s all. And I wanted to do it in violet to make it pretty."
"Yo check it. I wore a tie to work today. And nothing else. Am I fired?"
"That glue in the fridge is totally mine. Touch it and I’ll cut your motherfucking hands off."
"Janet, I wasn’t talking about you when I said ’Janet is gross.’ I was talking about all of us. All of us, except me. And kind of... except everyone else too. So not everyone not named Janet."
"Blazza-blazza-blar-blar!"
"I’m leaving work early because I need a haircut. Not a normal haircut.. An eyebrow hair cut. It’s complicated, and these things take time."
(Calling wrong numbers, someone answers, I say): "Hello? Are you there? Are you still there? If so, why?"
"Quick! Everyone! To my office for the lunch hour Tori Amos listening party!"
(If I was a hostess at Chili’s, I’d say): "Table for two? Smoking, non-smoking, or the near riot-like atmosphere dog fighting arena we keep in the Chili’s top secret area... in my pants?"
"Where is the forklift? Janet will probably need it to lift her fork today during lunch, heh heh.."
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Chocolitter and Losing Man Points
Littering is wrong. You shouldn't litter. If you do, you could face a fine. But let me ask you this. What if you were littering with chocolate? Not wrappers or anything like that... but like real milk chocolate. Doesn't seem that bad then, does it?
You get pulled over. Here's the exchange.
"It's ok, officer. I just threw some chocolate out of my car window. That's all..."
"Oh, well alright then. I mean, it was just sugary chocolate. I'm sure the ants will take care of it."
Just make sure you're not lying about it. That officer might head back to find the snickers bar you discarded, only to discover he's trying to eat a cigarette butt or your old cell phone. Way to go, jerkface! You fucked it up for everybody.
**************************************************************
So check this out. I have AAA. Or Triple A. Or however you would type that in a blog. The card looks a little something like this:
my new embarassment card, from AAA!
The purpose for AAA is essentially to keep you protected if you're in west Texas, stranded on a desert highway, with 4 flat tires and an engine fire. Or perhaps in the ghetto and your tires have been shot out, or maybe you've punctured your gas tank while driving through unnavigatable ravines. Or maybe your tires have been burned off because you've driven through the 7th layer of hell, I don't know... Either way, it's really for extreme cases, if you get my drift. It only costs like $50 a year, and it's some piece of mind that you can purchase rather cheaply.
The other day I had a flat tire. Well, lets just say I knew I would have a flat tire. It wasn't flat just yet, but I could hear air escaping through the nail that was stuck in it. Therefore, it would be flat soon so all I could do was wait. I had driven somewhere to do something and ran into Justin. He's like "what are you doing later?" and I told him how I was waiting for my tire to go flat so I could change it. The conversation progressed, and eventually I admitted to him I was going to just call AAA to change it because I hadn't gotten my money's worth out of them this year. Which was true. Actually I haven't called them in like 2 years.
Justin went on to add that I'd be losing "man-points" if I couldn't change the tire myself. I told him it wasn't that I couldn't change it myself. Believe me... with the idiotic driving I've done in my youth, I've changed my fair share of tires. It was simply that I didn't want to change it myself. Plus, I've been paying these assholes for nothing for the last 2 years, and I wanted to get a little love back. The conversation lingered until I admitted I really didn't have any man-points to begin with. I got into my soon-to-be-flat-tired vehicle and rode off into the sunset.
On the way home, I called the 800 number to tell them I had a flat and I needed it changed. They went through the motions and told me someone would be there within the hour. I parked the truck in the driveway, and went inside to sit my happy ass on the couch and watch tv. About 45 minutes later, I heard a diesel engine pull into the driveway. I went out to present my card to the AAA man so I could get back to whatever non-manly activity I'd been immersed in. That's when about the worst thing that could possibly happen to me in this situation reared it's ugly head.
The Triple A man... or what the Triple A man was supposed to be... was a woman. A little black lady, probably about 45 years old or so, was standing at the rear of the truck. I didn't know what to do. I was ashamed. I was just going to turn and walk back in the house but I didn't want her to think I was a racist or something. I wanted to be like "Oh, I was just playing... That was my kids making a prank call to you guys..." or maybe tell her it was the wrong house, and that tire only looked flat because it was a special kind of look-flat tire they just started making.
I was now in negative man-point land, and this lady knew it. I muttered something about how my jack was broken to her, and she smugly smiled. "Dammit, it could be broken! You don't know!", I thought. Fuck... Come on, AAA. Why not send a girl scout to change the tire next time, to add more insult to injury? Maybe you could hire infants or amputees to change tires. I'm expecting some guy who really digs changing tires to show up. You guys send a woman?!
She opened the back ot the truck and pulled out this air hose. Then pulled out this wheeled jack, hooked the hose up to it, and hydrolically lifted the truck in 3 seconds. The compressor was loud enough to attract my neighbors to the windows, just to make sure everyone knew a female was changing a man's truck tire. I was covering my face like criminals do on TV when the police are escorting them from jail to a police car. I wished I had a halloween mask to hide my identity. Like a hockey mask or something, but that I guess that would be kind of bizarre.
The hose was eventually placed into an impact wrench, and the lady changed the tire like a pit crew in NASCAR. I was impressed with the speed. I thanked her for helping me, and told her I'd get that jack fixed. I then waited for her to call me a pussy boy and push me on the ground, but it didn't happen.
I'll of course be renewing my AAA man-points eraser program again in April. But next time I have a flat tire, I'll push the truck behind a building or into my backyard before I call anyone.
You get pulled over. Here's the exchange.
"It's ok, officer. I just threw some chocolate out of my car window. That's all..."
"Oh, well alright then. I mean, it was just sugary chocolate. I'm sure the ants will take care of it."
Just make sure you're not lying about it. That officer might head back to find the snickers bar you discarded, only to discover he's trying to eat a cigarette butt or your old cell phone. Way to go, jerkface! You fucked it up for everybody.
**************************************************************
So check this out. I have AAA. Or Triple A. Or however you would type that in a blog. The card looks a little something like this:
my new embarassment card, from AAA!
The purpose for AAA is essentially to keep you protected if you're in west Texas, stranded on a desert highway, with 4 flat tires and an engine fire. Or perhaps in the ghetto and your tires have been shot out, or maybe you've punctured your gas tank while driving through unnavigatable ravines. Or maybe your tires have been burned off because you've driven through the 7th layer of hell, I don't know... Either way, it's really for extreme cases, if you get my drift. It only costs like $50 a year, and it's some piece of mind that you can purchase rather cheaply.
The other day I had a flat tire. Well, lets just say I knew I would have a flat tire. It wasn't flat just yet, but I could hear air escaping through the nail that was stuck in it. Therefore, it would be flat soon so all I could do was wait. I had driven somewhere to do something and ran into Justin. He's like "what are you doing later?" and I told him how I was waiting for my tire to go flat so I could change it. The conversation progressed, and eventually I admitted to him I was going to just call AAA to change it because I hadn't gotten my money's worth out of them this year. Which was true. Actually I haven't called them in like 2 years.
Justin went on to add that I'd be losing "man-points" if I couldn't change the tire myself. I told him it wasn't that I couldn't change it myself. Believe me... with the idiotic driving I've done in my youth, I've changed my fair share of tires. It was simply that I didn't want to change it myself. Plus, I've been paying these assholes for nothing for the last 2 years, and I wanted to get a little love back. The conversation lingered until I admitted I really didn't have any man-points to begin with. I got into my soon-to-be-flat-tired vehicle and rode off into the sunset.
On the way home, I called the 800 number to tell them I had a flat and I needed it changed. They went through the motions and told me someone would be there within the hour. I parked the truck in the driveway, and went inside to sit my happy ass on the couch and watch tv. About 45 minutes later, I heard a diesel engine pull into the driveway. I went out to present my card to the AAA man so I could get back to whatever non-manly activity I'd been immersed in. That's when about the worst thing that could possibly happen to me in this situation reared it's ugly head.
The Triple A man... or what the Triple A man was supposed to be... was a woman. A little black lady, probably about 45 years old or so, was standing at the rear of the truck. I didn't know what to do. I was ashamed. I was just going to turn and walk back in the house but I didn't want her to think I was a racist or something. I wanted to be like "Oh, I was just playing... That was my kids making a prank call to you guys..." or maybe tell her it was the wrong house, and that tire only looked flat because it was a special kind of look-flat tire they just started making.
I was now in negative man-point land, and this lady knew it. I muttered something about how my jack was broken to her, and she smugly smiled. "Dammit, it could be broken! You don't know!", I thought. Fuck... Come on, AAA. Why not send a girl scout to change the tire next time, to add more insult to injury? Maybe you could hire infants or amputees to change tires. I'm expecting some guy who really digs changing tires to show up. You guys send a woman?!
She opened the back ot the truck and pulled out this air hose. Then pulled out this wheeled jack, hooked the hose up to it, and hydrolically lifted the truck in 3 seconds. The compressor was loud enough to attract my neighbors to the windows, just to make sure everyone knew a female was changing a man's truck tire. I was covering my face like criminals do on TV when the police are escorting them from jail to a police car. I wished I had a halloween mask to hide my identity. Like a hockey mask or something, but that I guess that would be kind of bizarre.
The hose was eventually placed into an impact wrench, and the lady changed the tire like a pit crew in NASCAR. I was impressed with the speed. I thanked her for helping me, and told her I'd get that jack fixed. I then waited for her to call me a pussy boy and push me on the ground, but it didn't happen.
I'll of course be renewing my AAA man-points eraser program again in April. But next time I have a flat tire, I'll push the truck behind a building or into my backyard before I call anyone.
Sunday, January 6, 2008
The Witch Doctor
Hey, sing this:
I told the witch doctor I was in love with you...
I told the witch doctor I was in love with you...
and then the witch doctor, he told me what to do.
he said:
"Oooh eeee, oooh ah ah. Bing bang, walla walla bing bang.
Oooh eeee, oooh ah ah...
Bing-bang! Wallawalla bing bang!"
verse 2:
I then asked the witch doctor, "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
I then told the witch doctor "I think there's obviously a language barrier here I was not previouly aware of..."
I told the witch doctor I was in love with you...
I told the witch doctor I was in love with you...
and then the witch doctor, he told me what to do.
he said:
"Oooh eeee, oooh ah ah. Bing bang, walla walla bing bang.
Oooh eeee, oooh ah ah...
Bing-bang! Wallawalla bing bang!"
verse 2:
I then asked the witch doctor, "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
I then told the witch doctor "I think there's obviously a language barrier here I was not previouly aware of..."
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Can I proposition you?
Listen,
I'm not going to come at you all fancy pants bells and whistles here, but I have something to tell you, ok. Look. I've started a new band. "A new band, Sam? Fuck, man... what is this gonna be, the 19th myspace page you've started, and now you want me to be friends with?" I can hear you now. Seriously. And your thoughts sting me like a bee. Ok? I know... i know. But this one is different...
"Different, Sam? Yeah. What, does this one not include instruments? Is this some sort of vaudeville play? Different how, Sam. PERFORMANCE ART? A puppet show? How is this so different, shithead? What the fuck is so different about this, you fat fucker?"
Easy there, people in my mind. You don't have to be so mean.
"Um, apparantly we do."
Ok, I'm just gonna lay it out there. The name of the band is Supervillain!. It's sort of like Knuckledusta, except it's john gray, danny more, dan thompson and me instead of john gray, adam king, mikey terito, kyle bailey, and me. And instead of poorly covering things like Bush and Rage, now we're poorly covering Kelly Clarkson and TLC.
If you're not doing anything on Friday, December 21 and you're looking to party a little bit, come check us out at the North Gate Tavern with our buddies, the Stellaphonics.
Oh, and for those wondering out there, the wisdom teeth came out nice.. I just have some pain to get over and I'll be a-ok.
Love always,
e-sam
I'm not going to come at you all fancy pants bells and whistles here, but I have something to tell you, ok. Look. I've started a new band. "A new band, Sam? Fuck, man... what is this gonna be, the 19th myspace page you've started, and now you want me to be friends with?" I can hear you now. Seriously. And your thoughts sting me like a bee. Ok? I know... i know. But this one is different...
"Different, Sam? Yeah. What, does this one not include instruments? Is this some sort of vaudeville play? Different how, Sam. PERFORMANCE ART? A puppet show? How is this so different, shithead? What the fuck is so different about this, you fat fucker?"
Easy there, people in my mind. You don't have to be so mean.
"Um, apparantly we do."
Ok, I'm just gonna lay it out there. The name of the band is Supervillain!. It's sort of like Knuckledusta, except it's john gray, danny more, dan thompson and me instead of john gray, adam king, mikey terito, kyle bailey, and me. And instead of poorly covering things like Bush and Rage, now we're poorly covering Kelly Clarkson and TLC.
If you're not doing anything on Friday, December 21 and you're looking to party a little bit, come check us out at the North Gate Tavern with our buddies, the Stellaphonics.
Oh, and for those wondering out there, the wisdom teeth came out nice.. I just have some pain to get over and I'll be a-ok.
Love always,
e-sam
Friday, December 7, 2007
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Goodbye, Pen.. Cat whistles, and going under the knife
Do you ever talk to pens or highlighters, maybe any other office supplies? Because I do. I just realized it as I was writing with a red pen and it was sort of fading in and out. I held it up to my face and said, "you know, this isn't really working out. I think it's time we went our seperate ways..." and walked to the trashcan. The exchange looked like this:
So goodbye, Office Depot brand red ink fine point pen. It was good while it lasted.
*************************************************************
The other day, me and Aimee were sitting on the couch and for some reason, we were talking about kittens. I think I was doing a kitten impression, to which Aimee followed up with this sound like "Beeeeyeeeeeeeeew...". I told her that kittens didn't sound like that, because they don't really have lips. So making a "b" sound isn't really possible, becuase lip pursing isn't really possible in the feline culture. If they could do that though, they could probably whistle. And I think we're all in agreement that would be pretty neat.
*************************************************************
Tomorrow morning, I'm having surgery. It's serious, motherfucker. I said SURGERY!!! True, the word is close to "sugary", but there's nothing sweet about it.. I'm getting 3 wisdom teeth jerked out of my skull. They've been telling be that I needed them out, oh, since High School, but I guess the apparant LACK of wisdom they've provided has persuaded me to wait till now. So tomorrow at 7:20 am, under the influence of valium, I will have an IV put into my body and drift into another realm. Hopefully I'll make it back. I kind of expect to be like in The Big Lebowski, when the Dude is flying through the air, drifting along until he realizes he's holding a bowling ball and falls to the ground...
Anyways, say a prayer. Shit like this makes me shake like a leaf.
So goodbye, Office Depot brand red ink fine point pen. It was good while it lasted.
*************************************************************
The other day, me and Aimee were sitting on the couch and for some reason, we were talking about kittens. I think I was doing a kitten impression, to which Aimee followed up with this sound like "Beeeeyeeeeeeeeew...". I told her that kittens didn't sound like that, because they don't really have lips. So making a "b" sound isn't really possible, becuase lip pursing isn't really possible in the feline culture. If they could do that though, they could probably whistle. And I think we're all in agreement that would be pretty neat.
*************************************************************
Tomorrow morning, I'm having surgery. It's serious, motherfucker. I said SURGERY!!! True, the word is close to "sugary", but there's nothing sweet about it.. I'm getting 3 wisdom teeth jerked out of my skull. They've been telling be that I needed them out, oh, since High School, but I guess the apparant LACK of wisdom they've provided has persuaded me to wait till now. So tomorrow at 7:20 am, under the influence of valium, I will have an IV put into my body and drift into another realm. Hopefully I'll make it back. I kind of expect to be like in The Big Lebowski, when the Dude is flying through the air, drifting along until he realizes he's holding a bowling ball and falls to the ground...
Anyways, say a prayer. Shit like this makes me shake like a leaf.
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