Wednesday, March 30, 2011

My Words Are The Way.

Today I have been handed many gifts by Blodin, the Supreme God of Blogging.
 This morning I was presented with this car and it couldn't have been labeled more appropriately. Also it led nicely into today's update.
Dusho Indeed.
Speech influences thought. Thought influences speech. If you speak without thinking or think without speaking then you are failing yourself and those around you. If you really think about how you speak, the words, how you structure sentences, tone, volume, etc, then you will be at the bare minimum a thoughtful speaker. You’ll probably be a little robotic if you aren’t used to speaking this way, but being thoughtful is always better than being thoughtless. Unless you like pissing people off. In that case just say whatever and say it loudly, and maybe think about getting a monster truck, a closet full of Affliction t-shirts (click if you dare), and some flat-brimmed baseball caps.

I have always interested in how people speak. Me, You, Everybody. One thing about speech that interests me is new lingo and how often new “Word Trends” pop up and the next thing you know everybody around you is using the word “douchebag” to describe anyone or anything of which they disapprove. Shame on you all; I don’t use the word douchebag in that way, but I already bragged about this yesterday. It seems to me that these new trendy words or ways of speaking can sneak up on you and suffocate you in an instant. Just like a greasy drifter smothering you with a plastic bag so he can rob you for crack funds. It’s not your fault that everyone around you is using this new language constantly and before you know it you are so saturated with this language you start using it yourself without even thinking about it. Oh Geeeeezz Louise!, you think, and before you know it you are talking like a person not yet old enough to vote. FRUMPLESTILTSKINS!!!

Suffice to say, I have also heard that if one changes the way they think, they will therefore change the way they speak. The opposite is true as well. Change the way you speak, and you can change the way you think. If you’re lazy enough to let yourself be lulled into speaking like everybody around then guess what? You fucking think like everybody around you, and you dress like them, walk like them, behave like them, and live just like them. In the end, YOU ARE THE PROBLEM. You’ll probably become a proud member of a “Homeowner’s Association” before you know it and you’ll be part of your own little suburban dictatorship telling people that they are only allowed paint their homes one of 58 variations of taupe. Choose your words wisely.

Anyway, being the arrogant “do-it-yourself” bastard that I am I don’t like to be told what to say or how to say it, so I have always tried to come up with my own new language. Who says I’m not allowed to, fuck you, this is America and I can do whatever the fuck I want to and you have to buy it!

Sheen – something that was cool, but is now very uncool. Just like Martin and Charlie Sheen. You might say that these two gentlemen have lost their Sheen. (I originally came up with this in 2007, but isn’t it great how Blodin keeps answering my prayers and handing me all these great gifts?)
"Let's get this guy, Rick."
Berlinetta – use this word as an exclamation to point out someone or something to your friends that is fucking mock-able but unaware of its own mock-ness. 
For example: Fat, doughy bastard at a bar with a really tight shirt on who is trying to look like he’s a mountain of muscle that actually works out, and on top of that he’s ranting about something athletic like football or UFC. You would see him and without even turning to your friends, yell out, “Berlinetta, 2’oclock!” They’ll get the picture. But if they don’t I guess it’s possible your “friends” aren’t that Dawg (see below for the definition of Dawg).
Dawg – from henceforth, this word replaces “Cool”. I know, “Cool” has been around for a long time, how can I replace it? Fuck you, because I can, that’s how. I just can’t think of much that isn’t cool about dogs, so I think this is good word to replace “Cool” with. 
    Example:  “Hey dude, did you get a new car?”
            “Yeah, you like it?  It’s Dawg”
I spell it different because Dawg is pronounced differently from dog. This isn’t your pet; it’s an exclamation of severe approval. Dog is pronounced dawg. Dawg is pronounced, Dow-waeg, with two syllables. Figure it out. 

Delorean – this replaces the word “cougar” in reference to an older woman who likes younger men. I was informed by two of my top advisors that the word cougar is played out for good,( I also came up with this in 2007 but the world Cougar soldiers on bravely into meaninglessness, it even has a fucking crappy TV show), so I had to replace it. The reasoning behind Delorean is simple really. If you take a woman in her late thirties up to late forties, the last time they were truly hot was quite awhile ago. Just like the car from “Back to the Future”, the Delorean, it was hot way back in the day, back in the eighties, but now it’s just an aging icon. Sure it’s cool, but only in a throwback; laugh at it kind of way. Similar to how people like to get a good laugh out of talking about how we all loved some 8 bit Nintendo Entertainment System, and you may even break the fucker out to play a few games of Duck Hunt. However, compared to today’s systems that smelly little box sucks ass. Old ladies are the same way, if you find a good looking one who wants to engage in some dirty fucking sex, cool, but otherwise they are wretched people. You’ll drive that old Delorean around town every now and then because you get a bunch of looks from people who respect your style and you ability to rock the old school shit.  However, you don’t want to pound that old sagging ass every day for the rest of your life.  Just like you wouldn’t drive a Delorean on a daily basis. 

All right, now that I have pissed off every woman over age thirty five, let’s move on.

My last few words are not even words that I came up with. They are old words that I want to resurrect for my own usage, and if I am cool enough, I will be able to kick start the rebirth of these words on a larger scale. 

I don’t like to call women in “chicks” or “bitches” or “girls,” because I am not a “boy” and I have grown up and I follow the Golden Rule. I have always liked the old movies, think Sinatra era, when all the cool dudes called women “dames” or “broads,” (and ironically, when treating women like second class citizens was not only accepted but encouraged). I like those words for some reason, I think it’s because relative to “chicks” and “bitches” they sound so classy, so that’s what I call women if I don’t call them “women” or “ladies”. Sorry if you dames and broads don’t like it, but that’s just how I punch the muffin.
Also, start referring to all other strange people you encounter as “Rando’s”. I borrowed this one from the Broken Lizard guys who made such cinematic masterpieces as Supertroopers and Beerfest. According to Jay, the Indian dude in Broken Lizard, while they were in college they took to referring to “Random” guys they encountered as “Randos”.

Have a great day everybody.


Monday, March 28, 2011

I'm Gonna Open Up My Own Place, Dammit.

There was once a comedian that I was really into who I will not name here, but anybody who knows anything about stand up comedy knows that this guy is the guy who ripped off a big part of the comedic persona and on-stage material of the late, great Bill Hicks. I used to be really into this guy and I had his albums and I listened to them quite a lot. I eventually moved on to other comedians and it wasn't until later on that I learned about the lifting of persona/material from Mr. Hicks, so that had nothing to do with why I mellowed on this other comedian.
If you don't know who this man is, I hate you.
A big part of this guy's shtick is being the every-man, the hard working, blue-collar man on the street that the common man can relate to on every level. He was well known for doing then what Adam Carolla is well known for doing right now. One of his bits was about how he was going to open his own place, in regards to a bar or other place to drink and socialize. He was fed up with people being concerned with political correctness and he was turned off by trendiness. I'm sure he would consider himself "Old School" in this regard.

I don't consider myself old school, but I do get irritated by trends, the willingness of most people to not only follow trends but to appear not to give much thought to what they are doing in the first place. I call it "global thoughtlessness" but most people call it "douche-bag." I don't use the word "douche-bag" or any of it's derivatives, douchey, douchiness, douch-tard, or douch-tastic, etc.
This is the only thing I refer to as a douchebag.
One of the major things about me that you will become familiar with is how I am not so into starting new things as I am into Quitting old things. I'm very into quitting in general and I think the world would be a better place if more people were into hardcore quitting. I love to quit. New habits, old habits, and activities that aren't even habits because they are just traditional customs or obligations placed on me by society; things like paying taxes, working, bathing, shaving, etc.
However, I am going to break from my pattern of quitting just for a bit because a man can't live on deep fat fried sourdough croutons alone now can he?
All You Haters Eat My Salad
I'm gonna start something, YES, I'm gonna open my own place. I'm fucking sick and tired of not being able to tell other people what to do because I've bought a very small amount of low-level quasi-authority.
Here are the rules of MY PLACE, (some will be posted as "Official Rules" and others will just be private rules so I can wield them in any way I want, at any time I want, to anyone I want, and to any degree I want, like a dictator or a regional manager):

1. There is no dress code; unless my taking issue with your style of dress allows me to pick on you and then kick you out.

2. I get to pick the contents of the jukebox, and I get to play the jukebox, but you get to put money in the jukebox. My musical tastes are not only always right but they are the best as well.

3. Fights are allowed and encouraged as long as the right people are getting the shit kicked out of them. (see #1 & #2 for possible victims.

4. Prices will be adjusted based on how much the bartender hates you. More hate=higher price. Or maybe the bartender just has a drug habit, (which I have no problem with as an employer) and they need to score.

5. If you drink light beer or something from the major breweries like Miller, Coors, etc. then you will not only be allowed to stay at my place but you will be barred from leaving until myself and everyone else who wants to join is has had the opportunity to try and make you cry. Also, ordering "cool" drinks will get you slapped by an orangutan.

6. Standing up for yourself if you are the target of ridicule or physical violence will probably get you shot. I'll then plant drugs on you and then my and my lackeys will record a faked security tape making it all look like you attempted a robbery. Before you die I'll try to get you to sign over any assets you may own into my name.

7. There will be only one bathroom and women who complain about the seat being left up will have to clean that bathroom or perform a strip tease for me in my private office if I so choose.

8. The lid on the toilet is to be left UP at all times. Also, if you take a brag-able shit it will be photographed and twittered about and posted on the bar's Facebook page. After 10 "worthy" shits you get a personalized beer stein and a holiday named after you. I think this is attainable for everyone, even women.
Somebody gets a free t-shirt.
9. If anyone pisses ON the toilet seat, ON the toilet, or ON anything except the water in the bottom of the toilet then the bathroom attendant (ME) will out you as "One of Those People" and you will be restrained so "One Of Those People" can be forcibly tattooed on your right cheek.

11. No fucking kids.

12. Pets are okay, but it's also okay to get someone else's pet drunk while you are in the bathroom with that girl that everybody else knows is really a dude.

13. I promise to never organize or allow to be organized a benefit or fundraiser for anyone or anything. I will not be responsible for any "raising of awareness" or money for any people who have diseases or need help.

Well, that's it, I hope to see you all there. I'm thinking of calling it either "Factory Line Defect" or "The Outsider's Lounge and Sex Dungeon," but I can't decide yet.
Fuck Yeah!
See you all soon,


Friday, March 25, 2011

I Am In A Fucking Mood Today.

Not a mood for fucking, as in sex, I'm in a fucking mood as in a BAD fucking mood. I just want to grab people by the face and press my thumbs into their eye sockets. Since I've been abusing YouTube and having so much fun embedding videos into my blog so I don't actually have to come up with content I think I may just close out the week in that vein. Here are some vids of Mike Leach, who always cheers me up because he knows what he knows and he knows that what you know or think you know doesn't mean shit to him. Dig?

The title of this video is "Mike Leach Has Outburst, Too." This made me wonder what else he had done prior to having this outburst, and if this is an outburst then MY outbursts are complete psychotic meltdowns of apocalyptic proportions. Click HERE to see the video because the "embedding has been disabled by request."

Don't you feel the anger just rising off of him like steam coming up off the swamp every morning? Yeah, I can tell you are feelin' it. I absolutely love this next video from Coach Leach, he breaks it down in such honest terms. Simple language delivering a simple message. No beating around the bush, especially a fat girl's bush.

Everyone knows that Lubbock is full of fat whores. Fat whores who will tell you everything you want to hear just so long as you keep the gravy train coming, literally.

Lest you come to believe Coach Leach is an uncaring man who may have misogynistic tendencies I will share the following two short videos with you as a way to show the coach's softer side.

Great advice, Coach.

Dating advice and advice on how to deal with parents, fucking brilliant.

Listen assholes, Coach Leach may not be the head coach at Texas Tech anymore but this is a good thing because I really feel that he is better suited to being a "Life Coach to America." I know that this is not yet an official position but if the president is capable of appointing a poet laureate for these United States then I'm pretty confident that he can appoint Coach Leach as the official "Coach Laureate For These United States" and the entire world would benefit as a result.

Thanks for reading, have a nice weekend.


Thursday, March 24, 2011

Let's Get One Thing Straight, Mutants. (Kris will love this.)

You are not on the team. You are not on the team now and you will never be on the team. Maybe you were on the team, in the fucking past, but no more, move on with your sad, sad life. For those of you who are not on the team, were never on the team, and will never be on the team, how do you get so emotionally into something that is so far away from you? I've never been that interested in things that I simply watch from a distance. I don't watch sports anymore, but I do like to watch sports fans. These people are a hoot. Check out this piece of shit.

Wow. Well he does have muscles so maybe he played football in the past. Or maybe, just maybe, he's an irritating meathead who likes to make lots of noise and bring lots of attention to himself because daddy didn't ever give him a hug. He needs to find something personal that he's passionate about that he can pour all that energy into. I'm sure many people think that he is already pouring his personal, passionate energy into something by being a "fan" of the Arizona Cardinals, but I just think it's pathetic. I'll never understand how all these macho, tough guys who obviously want to be the center of attention can build their egos around the successes of other men who are probably much, much tougher and far more macho and who don't waste much time "cheering" on other men. No wonder viagra sells.

Here's another turd whose week just got ruined because something happened to someone else who is involved with a project that is off limits to him.

Oh this IS tragic. That's hard to deal with isn't it? What the fuck happened anyway? Did his kid get pushed down at soccer practice? Trick question; he wouldn't let his kid play a faggy sport like soccer, and you know that. It's good to know that amongst these "fans" there are some people present who have the presence to see how fucking ridiculous this man-boy looks and got some video of it. I feel this was done for me and me alone so I could embed the video in this blog post and point out the weaknesses of others.

Here's one last video:

Boy, that is sad, he's so young and he could probably be doing something worth a shit if he wasn't so tore up inside about how the football men from his school of choice didn't win the game over the other football men from some other school. Jesus, how can you get it up to give a shit?

I won't lie, I've had my times when I could relate to this madness but for the most part it was because I WAS ON THE FUCKING TEAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I played football from the 4th grade through my third year of college, and there were times during my time as a football player and after my time as a football player when I was really trying to be a "fan" and I was very emotionally involved with sports. I never felt good about it. I'll admit that I was just following the herd and taking the easy path by living vicariously through these sports teams that I was not a part of so I know the truth people. You can't hide it from me.

Fans will some times try to bullshit you about why they are so into the teams or athletes that they follow, but they are never honest or insightful enough for me. NO NO NO. Not honest enough for Keith Earickson, no sir. I'm a big deal in the field of honesty; some would call me an authority in the field of Honesty. I know I do. I'm a legend in my own mind. This is probably why I couldn't maintain my fan-ship with sports teams and athletes I had nothing to do with. I know what's up; we were all trying to steal a little piece of success from them. We wanted to feel like we were important and WE WON and people actually gave a shit about us. Don't bother with actually dedicating yourself to doing the hard, thankless work that is required of you. Just show up with a t-shirt on and go crazy, drink, drink a lot, everybody else is doing it so who is going to call you on this bullshit.

Well, not me, I'll be somewhere else doing stuff. My stuff. If My Stuff shits the bed and I lose then I lose, but if it wins then I WIN. Just like Charlie Sheen. He really is winning and the entire world seems to be transfixed on him for just that reason. Game On Sheen, game fucking on.


Wednesday, March 23, 2011

NO!!! You Put YOUR Titties On The Glass.

Because I'm worried about my previous post coming off as self-righteous and condescending I am going to ram a blob of silliness and fart noises into your face before you bombard me with dismissive emails telling me how full of myself I am and you aren't going to read my "bitter rants about nothing" anymore. I really am worried that people will feel as if I am criticizing them in that post, but I assure you I am not criticizing you, just stating some truth about me. BUT. Now I am going to criticize shit, but I think we can all criticize the following shit, after all, it's really shitty.
Here's a video someone made for a Mickey Avalon song called "I Get Even" and it is a brilliant track.

So, Mickey Avalon doesn't get mad he gets even. For a guy who probably weighs in at 145lbs those are strong words. If you watched the video you will get that it isn't so much a video as it is a slide show. I love the picture of him swinging on the morbidly obese security dude. Mickey Avalon couldn't get even with a meatball sub.

What's great about this next video is how it relieves me from having to come up with anything funny on my own, and I don't have to criticize it either. The humor is built in to the video, integrated humor you could call it, and the video actually criticizes itself before finally self destructing. Enjoy.

Oh America, your culture has become quite a "Situation", WHHOOAA, fucking zinger there my friend. I bet I could sell that joke to some amazing comedy TV show, like Chelsea Lately or VH1 Storytellers. Watching that video was quite amazing AND significant. For the first time in my life I actually began to HOPE that the government really does have special, top-secret, re-education camps. I'll even help build them if they'll let me pick who has to go. Of course this brings up a valid concern, can you re-educate someone who never got educated in the first place? Sure, in so much as we agree that re-education is just a euphemism for torture, and in that case, "Where's my black hood, honey, it's time to go to work. I've got a Situation (2 for 2 motherfuckers) to take care of, hahahah, lol, hardy har har, wheeez wheeez, snort, ROFLOL, fuck it.

See, I told you we'd get back to farting around pretty soon.


Mr. Rogers Rules.


All of the truly true and important lessons I learned in life I learned before the age of 8. Here are some of them:

The Golden Rule - treat others as you wish to be treated.

That was the biggest one because it covered so much. Even at the age of 6 I could see that The Golden Rule could be applied to any and all interactions amongst people and it made very clear the idea of showing respect for others. There is no question about how to act around other people when all you have to do is ask yourself, "How would I feel if....."

In other words, frequently practice "putting the shoe on the other foot" and testing out how it feels. If the shoe feels different on the other foot that means there is an inequality present. Ask yourself why. Investigate further to see if this inequality is necessary or maybe it's just because you are a self-centered twat that doesn't respect other people. Just think about it.

Another great teaching I got at that early age was that, "If people don't like you and appreciate you for who you are then they aren't your friends." Adults love to tell little kids this, and it was very comforting to me. Just think about it. The message is telling you to be you, all the time, without shame or apology, and as long as you aren't violating The Golden Rule you can rest your mind easy knowing that you are doing nothing wrong in the world. If someone tries to say there is something wrong with you or you are doing something wrong, (and often the MOST wrong thing a person can do is to be deficient in the eyes of another person, e.g., you don't have enough money/stuff, you don't have the "Right" kind of stuff, you're fat, you're ugly, you're stupid, you stink, you're not smart enough, tall enough, funny enough, skilled enough, it can go on forever), then all you have to do is check yourself out really quickly. First, "Am I breaking The Golden Rule?" Yes/No. Next, "Is this person referring to ME or are they referring to something I am doing?" Because we all make mistakes. You very well could be doing something wrong. You may be trying to eat a sandwich by squeezing it between your ass cheeks. That sir is the wrong way to eat a sandwich. But if someone is referring to YOU as wrong, then all you have to know is that they are wrong for spouting such bullshit. They are violating The Golden Rule, I bet they wouldn't like it if you told that something about them was wrong. Try it out and see.

Here's where Mr. Rogers comes into the discussion. Mr. Rogers, on his show, always made sure to tell us that we were just perfect, just the way we were, and we were loved for being just that, being ourselves. I saw a great, great documentary about Mr. Rogers last summer. It was entitled, "Mr. Rogers & Me," and it is a great film. I really hope this film eventually gets a wider release or is distributed in some way so that more people can see it.
It's fucking great, and yes, I do appreciate the irony of referring to this film as great while also throwing in what is termed, "filthy language." You know what though, that's me, I use "bad" words. That's part of who I am and there is nothing wrong with it. Strangely enough, for people that are sensitive to "dirty words" and don't speak them, don't want to hear them, and don't think others should speak them, they often are more sensitive to the blunt meaning derived from these words and less aware of the message that is being passed across that just so happens to include a naughty four-letter word. These are people who have a bigger problem with a complement that includes a cuss word than an insult that is spoken in clean language. What the Fuck?

Anyway, I could talk about censorship for a long, long, long time, but I want to move on so I can meet the magical, "Rule of Three," by adding one more example of the truly valuable teaching I was confronted with at a very young age.

Money can't buy happiness.

This is a big one for me and it is a very simple saying that can start off really complex thinking, debating, etc. It is a simple statement that is open to interpretation because of the word "happiness" which is definitely subjective and therefore there is as many definitions of happiness as there have been people in the history of the world. I don't think we would be hearing this one so much if there weren't the first two teachings I mentioned. The biggest things I take away from this phrase are things like this: "No matter how much money or stuff I have, or don't have, it will never change who I truly am as a person." "No one can judge me as a person based on my money or stuff." "Money should never be an obstacle that stands between a person and the things that person truly NEEDS, e.g., air, food, water, protection/safety, sleep/rest, socialization, and YES, happiness."

But we tell our children that they CAN change the world. Are we lying? Did we mean it when we said it but later on change our minds? Why do we bother to impart these teachings to our kids when we don't follow them ourselves? If we say these things for empty reasons, how do we feel about that? Surely, we must know that they will grow up to find out that those were just words and no one, (no one that matters, right?), lives their lives by those teachings, right? The people who matter, the politicians, the cops, the judges, the powerful and influential, (who always seem to be wealthy as well, hmmm), don't follow these teachings, but they say they do. A child can see the dishonesty. One can go from being confused to being enraged when they confront this reality.

I think I've been scratching my head all of my life thinking about how a person lies to their own face over and over, and then goes on to lie to others when they know exactly what they are doing. Confused? Yes, I was at times and occasionally I still am when something totally new surprises me. Enraged? You bet, lots of rage and anger. A one time lie every now and then is just that, a mistake, we all make them and we acknowledge them, correct them and move on, but to build your entire life upon a foundation of lies and maintain those lies for years is sociopathic. To lie intentionally, make plans to lie and how to protect those lies is devious and it pisses me the fuck off.

How do you say one thing and do something else? By accident of course! Well, I know that, because I've done it plenty. But when I know I am doing one thing while saying another and I see it in myself I cut that shit out immediately, or is more often the case as an adult, I never even get started in the first place because I see the glaring discrepancy. I see the error ahead of time and I choose not to continue on that path. I'm sure some people would and could point out to me specific examples of my being a hypocrite, and if you can I say, "DO IT," let me know because I Don't Know. If I knew I wouldn't do it, and I have no ego left ladies and gentlemen so I can promise you I won't get defensive and respond to your claims with claims of my own against you. If you've got me dead to rights then I will own up to it, but I'm willing to bet that a re-clarification of my position is what's really necessary. I'm sure that most of the issues that could hypothetically be brought up are the result of mis-communication between honest people, and one person misunderstanding how another person feels.

I'm sure some people will feel I am being self-righteous, but that is how YOU feel about ME. Bottom line is, you're feelings are all about you, not me. My words match my actions. My actions match my words. I know where I stand.

Thank you very much if you read this. I wrote it because I wanted to talk about my values in an open manner. I'm not focused on criticizing the words or behavior of any specific people and I am not talking down to anyone in particular. I just wanted to talk about what I believe and why.


P.s. This was not "fun" but it was good work I feel. Yeah, I'm braggin' on myself. I can do that because I walk the walk. I'll post some "Big Fun" later.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

MY Bodybuilding Poses.

You all know I've been lifting weights, right?
And I just ate a full rack of ribs.
So I think it is safe to say that I will probably be a competitive bodybuilder sometime around late summer 2011.

I know that being tan is a big part of bodybuilding, but I think that fake tanning crap is gross and I don't like the sun THAT much so being tan will not be part of MY bodybuilding career. I'm gonna be a ground breaker in pale-ass bodybuilding.

Also, no speedo for me, sir. I'll be wearing shorts, thank you very much, the speedos look horrible. The speedos with the tan is just too much. What are you people thinking?

Some people may think that I have no chance in bodybuilding due to my resistance to tanning and speedos, but I am going to overcome all of that with superior posing and a superior wit on stage. Also, I'll punch a guy, bodybuilders are just really big, but they can't fight for shit. This is a widely known truth. They never get enough fighting practice due to the fact that most people are too intimidated to start shit with them. That won't be me. Also, I'll be sucker punching them. No face to face confrontations for me, no sir!

Here is a sampling of the poses I am working on currently, just trying to reinvent the game, homeboy.

I'll offer a comparison to what are more traditional poses just so you can see how hard I'm pushing the envelope.

I call this one, "Giving a person directions when you don't know how to get to where they want to be."
As you can see, my "REAL" pose is a modification of this "fake" pose. Who ever does this in real life?
Because I have no friends I will often play "pretend" with my bike. Here we are playing "bullfighter," which I am using as inspiration for another awesome pose similar to the following.
Where is this jerk's bull? What is he even doing?
I do this one every morning when I get out of bed, so I am really great at it. I call it "The Morning Stretch."
Isn't mine so much better than this?
After I do "The Morning Stretch" I usually have to limp around the room while holding my back, which I am going to incorporate into my posing routine.
My pose kicks the shit out of this. Whatever it is.
This might as well be a pose, I smell my arm pits every morning, mainly due to the fact that I have worn this shirt every day for about two months.
This pose is weak. Also, I don't appreciate him trying to appeal to me by "using" the ocean like that. A beautiful, strong, amazing ocean does not make up for you and your "visual pollution" with the banana hammock.
Here are a few more pictures that I found while doing research. The first picture is of a "person" doing a "pose" that I find very inspiring. Don't stick to tradition. Burn your own path through the jungle. Get crazy.
Bold, sir. Very bold.
I really like this one because I can only assume this guy is a "Babe Hunter" and he is stalking some amazing babes. He's just about to pounce on them and begin to liberally apply tanning oil to their nubile bodies.
They're gonna be glad to see me! I have the waist of Lindsey Lohan and the arms of The Guvernator.
I'll post some more pics after I get done "cutting up", right now is my bulking phase, hence the ribs and tater tots everyday. Once I get all shredded I'll blow you away with some photos.


Friday, March 18, 2011

From The Hopper: Part III: Lagunitas Hop Stoopid Ale

 Golden colored, sweet & flowery aroma, light fluffy head.

102 IBU-it's very hoppy but seems to be missing something at first, but by the bottom of the glass it is full on.

Here is the data straight from Lagunitas Brewing on the webs:
Hop Stoopid Ale
For those mornings when you have to cut right to the chase, this is the one. Sure to blast through just about anything still lingering from the night before, this mouthful of Hops and huge rich Malt has a gaurantee built right into the name! 

ABV: 8%
It might make a difference that I only have one cup to drink out of, and it's plastic, and I don't have a refrigerator so perhaps I didn't drink this beer under the best conditions but it was still awesome. I do love a "hoppy" beer. I can't recall the last time I drank a "light" beer from one of the major domestic brand names. I don't think it would taste like beer to my tongue anymore.

In other news I returned 5 books and 10cds to the library earlier today and then I picked up some amazing stuff before I left. Remember, this is the public library in Flagstaff, AZ and I am simply checking out standard library materials, for free.

I have been blasting the neighborhood with some fucking great music tonight. Disc numero uno was the soundtrack to the Roky Erickson documentary called You're Gonna Miss Me. Disc two was an album from The Stooges released in 2007 called The Weirdness. Both were intense and very heavy. The neighborhood will Thank Me I am sure.

Get a library card dork, use it, cherish it, pass it on. The library kicks serious ass. I'm talkin' about fat rich-lady ass here, it spreads that ass wide open and covers it in hot mustard. I feel bad for not appreciating the library enough to actually use it for so many years.

Drink great beer, read great books, listen to great music. Accept no substitutes. Fuck what they think.


Thursday, March 17, 2011

Bike Drive-train Overhaul. Very Late, but Better Than Never.

I've been wanting to post this for weeks but things kept happening that threw a monkey wrench in my plans. Here it is finally, my post devoted to overhauling the drive-train on my crappy beach cruiser. (Hopefully after a few more changes in my crappy beach cruiser it will be somewhat of a sturdy, reliable "townie" bike.)

My crankset crapped out on me again and I had promised myself that I would replace the broken parts with something lighter, stronger, and more reliable. I had the traditional BMX crankset on my beach cruiser. One piece crank, fairly big chain ring, platform pedals, and an adjustable bottom bracket.

I bought a bottom bracket conversion kit so I could get away from the heavier one piece cranks that I have always used in the past. I got aluminum an aluminum alloy crankset with a slightly smaller chain ring, and I got a new chain and lighter platform pedals. Here is the re-build(I didn't take pictures of the disassemble.)
There's supposed to be something in here?
Stop it Evil Twin, stop it now!

This is the new bottom bracket.
I made a little "doo-hickey" to get the bearing cups pressed in together.
I lost the rest of the photos in the "Great Acer Desctruction of Early 2011" but here's a photo of the finished bike.
Everything installed correctly I hope.

New headlight, cyclocomputer so I know how far/fast I go, new drive-train, new pedals, new rear light. Whew, done.
Now I just have to ride it.


Wednesday, March 16, 2011

So tired, so sore, must attempt something.......ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

My legs are hammered to shit. I am sore all over. Today was truly an interesting experience. For some reason I was really bothered by any and all noises, so every time I heard something I had to get up from my desk and go to my front door to look out and investigate the source. All day long I was getting up to walk to the front door, looking at nothing or maybe some dick with a loud car driving by, or maybe it was the tow truck, the dump truck, the delivery trucks, or the fucking wind. I felt like a neurotic mess all day. I feel like I heard a million car doors slammed and an armada of trucks with loud exhaust drive past my home. I could not tune this shit out and concentrate on anything.

When I was sitting down I practically did nothing except mindlessly move shit around. Pick up those books and re-stack them over there. Flip through that stack of notes and rearrange them in some other order. Put them down over there, no over here, no I was right the first time, over there is better. Put this down, pick that up, pick this up, look at that thing again, etc, etc. All fucking day. I was really productive. This post makes no sense, so watch this video, which makes all the sense in the world.


Tuesday, March 15, 2011

So I Didn't Actually Cut My Arm Off After All.

Sorry for my absence. This post will be late and it will be double-long to make up for missing yesterday. I know its hard for you to go without my much more frequent postings but don't get down on yourselves, you're only humans.

You probably noticed there was no "Weekly Update" on Sunday, well Sunday night came around and after posting Monday through Friday I realized that a weekly update is really totally unnecessary if I'm going to post every day during the week. If I have something to post then I will post. I didn't end up with any spare time to post anything yesterday because I was having too much fun rebuilding my data with MY NEW LAPTOP THAT FINALLY ARRIVED. Expedited shipping my fucking ass.
The new laptop, it's tough they say. We'll see.
So anyway, the Panasonic Toughbook is here and it's awesome. Using the Toughbook makes you 8 times the man, easily. It's got a handle so you can carry it like a little briefcase. I bet if I hand-cuffed it to my wrist people would think I was a secret agent. Probably not, I lack that whole "tall, dark, handsome, mysterious," stuff that is so essential to being a spy. To be honest with you I am a little intimidated by this machine, I think it could kick my ass. It did slap me in the face for not putting enough Parmesan cheese in the egg salad I always make every Monday, but I can understand why "The Toughbook" would be on edge after being in the hands of the postal service for 7 straight days. He won't hit me again, promise, he's a good laptop, works hard, skilled with his pimp hand, he didn't mean it, I'm sure. Let's not talk about it anymore.
Looks sturdy, but can it "compute" stuff?
Hmmm, magnesium, isn't this shit flammable?
HONEY!!! I'm going out, ......, to compute stuff!
Yesterday at the YMCA I had to face the music with my strained bicep and it was still gimpy. I did bench and had to skip incline and go home, and today I did squat which still somehow made my arm sore, SQUAT!!! That's how fucking heavy duty I am, I get bicep action from doing my squats. This was the first full week of working out with the new maxes and yesterday and today were "Heavy cycle days" and I am even more sure that this workout is going to beat my sorry ass into the ground. After loading up the bar for my last set of reps on squat I only had two inches of bar left before the weights would be hitting the floor. I truly terrified some people today, the former marine, "The Stairmasters", the spinners, the clueless idiots who will only touch dumb-bells and nothing else. The guys with the mismatched upper and lower body muscle groups almost turned into a big bag of dick farts when they saw what I was doing. Some middle aged guy with a young girlfriend looked on in horror as I lifted all the weights in the gym as he and his lady worked on their inner thighs using a cable machine. What the fuck, dude?

I walked up to him and just stared at his girlfriend's massive cans while I asked, "When are you gonna start your work out miss?" The girl started to reply to me and I raised my hand to stop her, "I'm sorry ma'am, I wasn't asking you, I was asking your little sister here, (motioning towards the middle aged turd), and he just scampered off leaving a trail of something that resembled tapioca pudding. Former marine came over to help me unload the bar, and I hadn't even asked him, he did it out of respect. I'll kill him last.

In the first 10 days of March I eclipsed all traffic stats from any other month with recorded traffic results. The entire month. I am so proud of all of you. When 10 days of traffic beats the best 30 days of traffic, ever, we are doing something right. You need to do more however, pass on the link for this masterpiece, tell your friends, email this greatness to all of your family and coworkers. Odin knows they aren't leading worthwhile lives, so they should be able to enjoy my 300 flavors of awesome over here at Space Driftin'. Seriously, I have to make a living somehow, bring me the traffic my loyal readers, for all I know the higher traffic stats don't represent real readers. It could be from the increased frequency of posted updates that has the "Google Spiders" all over this blog, as well as the less desirable "Yahoo Crab Lice." So I am counting on you to get faces in front of this shit.

 I don't know how any of you liked last week's posts. I never get any comments or emails from any of you. Buncha lazy ass readers. It isn't enough to just read this blog obsessively, you have to give me feedback, not so I can make the blog better but because I'm a scared little girl who needs constant support in everything I do. When I say I write this blog for me, I'm lying, I am addicted to seeking the approval and acceptance of others. Can't you tell? Can't you trust me? I'm trying my ass off to communicate to you dullards how serious and sincere I am about.........well, stuff, and..........things.

Moving on. Ahem. I am so glad I destroyed that Acer Ferrari last week. If I had not done that I would not have gone to the library, and that would suck. The library is badass. I have been checking out shit left and right ever since I got my card. They got books, DVDs, CDs, everything. I found some fucking Roky Erickson at the Flagstaff library. Can you believe that shit? A fucking 13th Floor Elevators CD that I can check out for free, bring home, rip into my laptop, and then return. I'll probably end up buying that album anyway but the library is a great way to not spend money on the only things I spend money on besides food, which would be books, CDs, and other media. I have been checking out and reading these books I read when I was in elementary school. There was a mystery series aimed at young boys that was not the "Hardy Boys" and it was called Alfred Hitchcock and the Three Investigators. It really brings me back to read these books, good times.

That's right, I read children's books, I also read Noam Chomsky cocksucker so deal with it.

I know this post is kinda shitty but I am pressed for time and still catching up on shit. Send me an email, or whatever. Thanks for reading.


Friday, March 11, 2011

From the Hopper: Part II: Great Divide Brewing Yeti Stout

I ordered my new computer 4 fucking days ago, AND I PAYED FOR EXPEDITED SHIPPING! Where is my new computer right now? Well it's still in Chicago, which is where the people I ordered it from are located. That's what they call expediting. You order it and four days later it will still be in OUR general vicinity. Way to go fucknecks! Just be prepared for the whining and the bitching about computers to continue. I ordered a factory refurbished computer so you know there is going to be nightmare after nightmare associated with this piece of shit. I fucking hate myself.

But I don't fucking hate beer. Today's beer comes to us from Colorado at the Great Divide Brewing Company.

This is a beer after my heart, it is called Yeti Imperial Stout, (I can't direct link to it, on the main page look towards the lower right and click on the Yeti Imperial Stout icon), and it is a damn good beer.From the web:

Yeti Imperial Stout is an onslaught of the senses. It starts with big, roasty malt flavor that gives way to rich caramel and toffee notes. YETI gets its bold hop character from an enormous quantity of American hops. It weighs in at a hefty 75 IBUs.  9.5% ABV

Silver Medal Great American Beer Festival, 2009
Bronze Medal Great American Beer Festival, 2008
Silver Medal Great American Beer Festival, 2005
Bronze Medal Great International Beer Competition, 2005
Bronze Medal European Beer Star Competition, 2009
Silver Medal Brew New Zealand Beer Awards, 2009

I found this beer to be really sweet, which I don't normally like, but it was very welcome with this beer. There was a musky, rich aroma that I am sure is from all of the hops, and I am going to assume that the sweetness I tasted is caramel and toffee. Whatever the fuck it was it tasted great together. I'm definitely going to try this one again as well as anything else from Great Divide. Just check out their website and tell me anything they make doesn't sound awesome.

On a completely unrelated topic: the new weightlifting cycle has started and it's going to make me cry like a little girl, of this I am sure. I was angry the other day, (what's new), and I threw a broken lawn chair with my left arm. Doing so must have strained a muscle in my left bicep because I had to put up with quite a bit of pain yesterday for the upper body workout. Biceps aren't even focused while doing flat bench and incline but I had to suffer through it anyway. What's really weighing on my mind is how many days I'll eventually have to accept that I'm going to miss while I let this small "boo-boo" heal all the way up. I did lower body today and only did squat because there is no way I could pull on a bar for dead-lift and still have a working arm later. The only use my biceps are seeing is whatever it takes to load and unload the bar while I do my lifts, and if that is enough to irritate the injured muscle as much as it is then I may be taking some more time off. Hopefully it will feel okay by Monday.

If not, fuck it, I'm cutting the arm off.


Thursday, March 10, 2011

From the Hopper: Part I: Port Brewing Old Viscosity Ale

This is a new thing I am going to start doing here at Space Driftin', telling you my experiences with different beers. These are not reviews. Let me be clear on that from the start. I don't do reviews, of anything. I just tell about my experiences and you can take that for whatever it is so don't think I am suggesting anything or telling anyone else how to feel about anything. I'll do my best to describe my feelings about "The What" and hopefully I can do this in a clear and intelligent enough way that it is useful. Maybe it'll be funny too.

The first beer I am going to talk about is from Port Brewing and the beer is called Old Viscosity.
Here's what they have to say about it, just in case you're too lazy to go investigate for yourself:

Old Viscosity

American Dark Strong Ale

Old  Viscosity
Old Viscosity
“Not your Dad’s Wimpy 30 Weight is how our original label used to describe this massive chewy and thick beer.
Code named by our brewers-”The Big Black Nasty,” this is monstrous dark ale is brewed to no particular style. Thick and sludgy like oil from the crankcase of a wheat threshing combine, Old Viscosity blurs the boundaries of Porter, Stout, Old Ale and Barleywines.
A blended beer that mixes old and new brewing traditions into one finished beer, Old Viscosity starts out with 80% of the packaged beer produced from a stainless steel fermentation.
It then joins another 20% Old Viscosity (from a previous batch) that has been aging in bourbon barrels.
The blend of the two beers yields an incredibly rich and luscious ale that reveals chocolate and cocoa notes melded to silky body of burnt wood, vanilla and ash.
Malts – Two Row, Wheat, Domestic and English Crystal, Carafa III and Chocolate Malts
Hops – German Magnum
Yeast – White Labs California Ale and Proprietary Yeast Strains
Original Gravity – 1.092
Terminal Gravity – 1.014
ABV – 10.5%
  I do love a dark, heavy beer and this beer was everything it promised me it would be, just like "She" never did. Definitely a heavy hitter with the higher alcohol content but there was no heavy alcohol taste or smell. I recall a very fresh and oxygenated aroma that was mildly strong. I tasted metal, or maybe I just convinced myself that I tasted metal after I read the side of the bottle but I distinctly remember tasting metal, in the good way. Have you ever had to hold a crescent wrench or a screwdriver in your mouth while you worked on something? That clean metal taste that I can only describe as tasting metallic, that was definitely in there for me.

As for it's chewiness and thickness, that is hyperbole for those of you who like me who take things really literally. If you don't drink a lot of heavy beer then this will seem very thick to you, but for me, a guy who drinks exclusively of the dark and heavy, it was not that noticeable. I'll put it this way, drinking Old Viscosity is closer to the "feel" of drinking whole milk as opposed to the "feel" of drinking straight water, which is what it feels like to drink most "light" beers. Whatever tickles your pickle, man. I like the heavy stuff. I also like beer that tastes like mostly beer. The taste of Old Viscosity reminded me of wood, nuts, earth, and the aforementioned metallic taste. I'm not saying that I dislike other tastes, I'm just saying that those heavy elemental tastes are most appealing to me.

Hopefully your local liquor store or beer specialty store carries beers from Port Brewing. I have never had a beer from them that I didn't REALLY like. Their Wipeout IPA is one of my favorites and I'll be sure to talk about it one of these days too.


Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Great News, I'm Going On The Road!!!!

I mentioned a few days ago that I had registered to work as a volunteer at a few music festivals in exchange for free admission through an organization called Work Exchange Team (WET) and I got email confirmation today that I have been accepted as a volunteer. All I have to do is make a small deposit to secure my position and then I will be off in late May to "The Hangout Festival" in Gulf Shores, AL, and then I'll be going back to Arkansas to work at "Wakarusa" in early June.

This is exciting. I am going to have to get on the ball if I am going to build a bike and cycle out there, but if that doesn't happen in time I will just make other accommodations. My plan is to build a Surly Long Haul Trucker touring frame by myself and then outfit it with all the panniers so I can load up all the equipment I will need to make it from Flagstaff to Gulf Shores, AL, then I'll probably visit with my folks and other friends in Oklahoma before going over to Arkansas for Wakarusa. After that I may come back to Flagstaff or I may have other adventures to go on. If I get to work as a volunteer at Bonnaroo and the "All Good Music Festival then I will probably have to leave Arkansas immediately to get to Manchester, TN in time. The All Good Music Festival is all the way over in West Virginia.

Man this is fucking exciting. I love Flagstaff and I don't want to move anywhere else right now but I do want to travel around on bike and just get it on in general.

I have no access to my pictures right now so I can't post the update I had originally planned for today. As soon as I get my new computer in we will be back on line hopefully and ready to have some real fun.

Enjoy it fuckers.


Tuesday, March 8, 2011

New Lower Body Maxes!

Another day of total domination for me over at the, "Valley of the Sun Family Fun & Fitness Center That Only Has One Squat Station But Has 8,052 Cardio Machines and A Rock Climbing Wall," you've heard me heap tons of praise on this facility before, but it can only get better with me in there scaring people.

Today was lower body max day and I performed stunningly yet again. After weighting, (pun intended) for twenty minutes for two guys to use the smith machine, badly, I got to load up. Is there a rule amongst the public in regards to performing squats that I don't know? Are you supposed to use the goofy bar pad and only go down a third of the way? That's not how I do it, but I'm no expert, I'm just the guy that squats more than everyone else.

Yeah, I'm bragging. Don't like it, go read the "Fairies Who Only Do Things Half Way Blog."

There are two things for me to correct before we go any further: 1) I did not max on dead-lift back in December when I started lifting again, and 2) I was working off of the wrong squat max because I forgot that this particular smith machine starts out with only 20lbs of resistance instead of the 45 you would be dealing with if you were lifting actual free weights. Is there anything that doesn't suck about smith machines? I can't think of anything. I scratch perverted images into it's paint every time I work out on it to make up for the lame-i-tude.

So I thought my squat max was 365lbs but it was really 340lbs. No matter, I did a workout based on percentages calculated from 365lbs.

I started out with dead-lift and finally ended up with a one rep max of 410lbs. I'm going to go ahead and make excuses for myself because I've already started down the path of annoying braggart so why not top it off with some excuses to cover my ass. When I first started lifting weights way back in 1904 I was taught on a "trap bar" that had heavily knurled handles, tape, and we had chalk for better grip too. The handles were narrow and easy to grip for my somewhat short fingers. The bar on the smith machine I am now using is very large in diameter and has very shallow knurling so it is much harder to grip. This makes it hard to hold onto and therefore harder to lift a lot of weight but in the end it's a great way to develop more grip strength so I'm not complaining too much.

My new squat max ended up being 470lbs. and I am very pleased with that. So that was the day at the Y and now I am done with maxing for my next workout cycle. I'll put together a new program tonight or tomorrow on my off day and start lifting on it Thursday. I'm thinking I'll stay in this cycle for 16 weeks but I am going to add graduated levels so I won't feel like I am pushing air by week 5 like I did this last time. As I get stronger I will gradually push up the percentages to keep the pressure on as much as possible.

In conclusion:
Old max-none
New max-410lbs

Old max-340lbs
New max-470lbs

Thanks for reading.


Monday, March 7, 2011

New Upper Body Maxes!

The day started off with a bang of excitement. Once I realized that my Acer Ferrari was just not going to boot up for me I realized that my Acer Ferrari had disrespected me too much and something had to be done.

I channeled my rage into a lazer-beam of destruction and I broke that useless piece of shit into a thousand tiny fragments. It fucking felt good too.
Sometimes I break things.
I had had it with the obstruction that my laptop had become and I "dealt" with the issue fairly and sanely in my opinion. Fuck worthless shit. You try to hold me back, Acer Ferrari, I will break every microchip in your fucking body. Of course, I wouldn't have done this had I not finally procured a backup external hard drive to place all of my valuable writings, pictures, and music into so I theoretically could terminate my laptop one day if I so chose to do so, with extreme prejudice.

My laptop had become like Col. Kurtz from "Apocalypse Now" and he was out there in the jungle operating with no decent restraint or commitment to human dignity. I had to take my laptop out, and if a few knuckles were bloodied in the process then so be it. Damn it felt good to fucking break that thing. I just kept picking it back up and slamming it on the floor as hard as I could. I also broke this shitty IKEA table that has been pissing me off for too long now. Fucking Junk. I dealt on that cheap Swedish bull-crap. I dealt a full fucking hand.
When you diss Keith, you diss yourself, fool.
Enjoy spending eternity in computer hell, fuckface!!!
There was a good side to all of this destruction, just like there always is in life, I was motivated to go to the local library and finally get a library card because I was now given the option of buying a new computer locally amongst whatever was available in Flagstaff, or I was going to have to find a computer with Internet access so I could order the computer I've been wanting to order as a replacement for my disappointing Acer.

First off, without a working computer with an Internet connection I had no way of finding where the hell I should go in Flagstaff to begin my computer search, and since I already had a model in mind that I wanted it just made sense to go to the library and log onto a public terminal and order a new laptop. So that's what I did, got the library card, went to the YMCA to max out, stopped at the library down town and ordered me a new unit. If you have read anything on this blog in regards to my computer usage you would realize that I am, how you say, rough on these fucking things. To me it made sense to buy a Panasonic Toughbook laptop because not only am I rough on these things just using them at home, my plans in life could take me far and wide and trying to operate day to day in very tough physical environments. Panasonic Toughbooks are generally marketed to and used by the military, EMTs and fire personnel, cops, and various types of "in the field" workers like contractors, surveyors, rangers, etc. Hopefully this computer will serve me well and I won't fucking destroy it. I just hope I am able to plug in my Western Digital external hard drive and access my personal journal, pictures, music, and all of the other irreplaceable written documents I have created over the years.

So now that we have that horse hockey out of the way let's move onto the really exciting news for the day. I DID re-up my maxes today on bench and incline. I have no way of knowing if I had any residual anger from the "Immaculate-Laptop-Crushing" of 2011, but it may have given me a little juice, who knows, I felt great. We have strange weather today in Flagstaff. There seems to be an oscillation every 30 minutes between cool and partly cloudy with a nice bit of sun shining down and sleetish-snow with heavy, gusty wind that tries to pull my beard out by the clumps. When I was riding my bike over to the YMCA I got to fight with the sleety-snow and the fucking wind. It was great. I must be losing my mind because I really like riding in this kind of weather. How can you not enjoy the challenge? It's just another test for me to push through, literally in the case of the strong head-wind I had to ride through today.

Anyway, I eventually made it to the "family-fun-n-fitness center, but-please-don't-drop-those-weights y'all," and I got to work. Here are the days results:

Bench: 350lbs, (old max-275).

Incline: 315lbs, (old max-265).

My personal best on flat bench is 390lbs back when I played college ball. That was 1999 I guess, I was 21 years old and weighed in at 194-197lbs. All of my personal record lifts come from that period, I inclined 365lbs, deep squat was 605lbs, and we did power cleans instead of dead lifts and my power clean was 275-290lbs, I can't remember exactly.

If I could just get my eating habits to be mostly healthy most of the time then I would probably feel a lot better. I go in streaks unfortunately, I can go a month eating like an Olympian and then something will take me off the wagon and I turn into a "pizza assassin" like I am now. I have to treat my bad eating habits like an addiction because my eating habits are so bizarre and extreme. The eating is the only missing piece, and if I can fix that I will have overcome my life's biggest struggle. I know I can do it. I just have to be brave and open minded to dealing with the reasons I eat like I do in different ways than I haven't tried yet. I see it all coming together. Fear doesn't stop me like it used to and I have no ego left with which to say, "NO," or "I can't or won't do that," due to some deep seated personal value that forces me to think that I have to do everything alone or I am weak and needy. My perspective now is summed up by looking at the "bottom line" and I think that focusing on the result I want as the "bottom line" and then committing to doing whatever is necessary to achieve it, (so long as it's not hurtful or destructive to myself and/or others), is the way to a resolution for me.

Thanks for reading,


Sunday, March 6, 2011

Weekly Space Driftin' Update 3/6/11

Have you ever seen Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome? Stupid question, of course you've seen that movie. Well do you remember the underground pig farm where they harvest methane to run Barter Town? Sure you do, sure you do, greatest scene in the movie probably. Well how do you think it smelled down there? I can only imagine that it smelled something like what I am smelling right now. You see, I am a big fat pig and after going to see Nick Swardson last night I went to the Pay 'n' Take in downtown Flagstaff and then I came home to destroy two large pizzas all by myself. Now it's a Thunderdome of Farts in here and only one man will leave.
"Come lay with me m'lady.
Now that I have decided to update this blog as much as possible I don't know how necessary the Weekly Update will be, but I may keep doing it just to talk about anything I may have missed or not had time to cover during the week. I don't know exactly what I am going to do. All I know is I am addicted to the idea of rebuilding my website in a truer form and working to make it as popular as possible. Promotion. Self Promotion in my case. I can't say I'm against it. If it's done for the right reasons then its cool with me. I have shit to promote dammit. Tell all your fucking friends about what I'm doing here, especially the ones that would really hate it.

It's Sunday night and I'm listening to Coltrane, (A Love Supreme, do yourself a favor and buy it), everything is maximized, perfectionized, brillianterrific, and the planets are aligned for my continued dominance over this domain. The week started out great enough, the VW dorks, (their "ours" are changing?), next door are getting evicted and I'm getting my access to the bathroom restored. Yeah! Taking shits in the general vicinity of where you sleep and eat and all that cool stuff!
I'm still missing my "out of bed" times on some days but I'm getting up in the early AM on most days. This has had good affect on my productivity. I finished my last week of weight lifting for this cycle so next Monday and Tuesday I will hopefully have exciting new numbers to brag about when I max out again. I am totally crushing it at the "YMCA family fitness center with no real squat rack and signs on the wall about not dropping weights out of respect for the people in the aerobics room downstairs," and I am glad to be moving forward to pushing around more weight starting next week. What I don't get about the signs reminding people not to drop weights is how it is disrespectful? And if the people lifting weights upstairs have to "respect" the aerobics room by not dropping weights then why don't the aerobics instructors have to respect EVERYONE IN THE FUCKING BUILDING by not playing the worst fucking music in the world at a very high volume.
Aren't we precious ladies! Get that MAN out of my room!!! Let's crank up the Kayne Weist girls!!!
Is it required that spin classes and aerobics classes have to pump the air full of high grade musical abominations? Every day I hear music coming from either of those rooms that sounds like Ricky Martin and Fergie got together and decided to make music that would drive people to suicide, and they fucking hit it out of the park. I know who put that fucking sign up. It was some entitled cunt aerobics instructor who thinks she can legislate to the world around her just because she has access to Microsoft Word and a Xerox machine. I'm gonna put my own sign up, but it's just gonna be a picture of boobs that I drawed.

I did a lot of reading and writing this week. Got some good jokes put down, I just need an innocent audience to use them on now. I also did some work on rebuilding my website and getting this blog integrated into that so then I will have a nice, big, neat pile of vile awesomeness to share with the world.

I really am a fat pig right now. Just as I thought would happen the weight lifting made me incredibly hungry and I am holding solo eating competitions every day. Really have to focus on this during the upcoming week before it truly gets out of hand.
Got in an email fight with my sister later this week and I have finally reached the point of being completely done with her forever. What's the point when you've tried everything you can think of and all you get back is the same kind of "fuck you" that you've always received for the past who knows how many years. I feel like I'm sailing and we were heading for rocks, but we cut the jib and I had my head on a swivel so I ducked just in time and turned my head to see the jib pass over me and the sails caught full wind to propel me in a completely new and safe direction away from the rocks and the storm. I don't even know why I say anything at this point. I know how she'll respond. She reads this blog so I'll probably get an unfiltered 100% crazy, defensive, hateful response just for typing this, but I'm on permanent "IGNORE" when it comes to her. This is the second time in my life I have decided to completely give up on having a relationship with my sister. The only reason this is the second time is because the first time I didn't do it right. I completely shut her out of my life but I didn't tell her what I was doing or why, but this time I have made it clear to her as best as I can and it's up to her now. I hope for her she gets what she needs, but I'm not waiting around because it probably won't ever happen. I already have enough to handle with my life. No sense in trying to help someone who doesn't want to help themselves.
Things are getting really good here in Flagstaff which means it's probably time to leave. Not for good but just on a trip of some kind. I need to be on the road and I should find out this upcoming Wednesday whether or not I will get to go on that trip(s). I signed up for the Work Exchange Team(WET) which is a service that allows you to exchange volunteer service at a music festival for a free pass to that festival. I signed up for one in Alabama called The Hang Out, and I signed up for one called Wakarusa. I will also be signing up for Bonnaroo and the All Good Music Festival. You work about 5 to 6 hours a day and the rest of the time you get to just enjoy the festival. I hope I get picked because I plan on building a touring bicycle up so I can ride there under the power of my own legs, and it will be an epic cycling, camping, music adventure. I'm gonna build that bike anyway and the only real issue for me is finding which places I want to go and for how long.

Thanks for reading.