Category: Love

Surprise Wolf Shirt. We Had A Good Run.

They say bad things happen in threes and I am really counting on that to be a truism. In one day I had to replace the entire rear brake system in the car, destroyed my iPhone and the epic shirt that has come to be known as the “surprise-wolf” shirt is stained beyond wear because I do laundry about as well as this guy can lull a baby to sleep with a lullaby. The brakes and phone are just a fact of life but I can’t get over the loss of this shirt. For five dollars at a Value Village it has brought me fame and fortune. Well, maybe not that but it has complimented my version of style. Let’s take a trip back to 2008.

I had just recently moved to the great white northwest and trying to blend in I figured that corporate attire might not translate so I figured what better way to show the natives that I too was down with style of the time. So I bought a wolf-scape shirt and was eager to grow a beard to complete the transition from suit to mountain man. (minus the Cubs hat)

The joke was kind of on me though because most people in rural North Idaho freaking hate wolves. I mean they will shoot them and leave them on the side of the road. Apparently these majestic (once endangered) creatures like to rove in packs and destroy all in sight. And they just do it for fun too. It’s not uncommon to see a bumper sticker stating their approval of the “kill all wolves bill” that was actually voted on in the state congress.

So it is completely my modus operandi to rock this shirt to a bar where 9 out of 10 people believe that by wearing this wolf shirt I am not only a bleeding heart liberal but also with the Taliban. I felt like I showed up to a breast cancer awareness rally sporting a shirt that says “I’m more of a butt and leg guy”. So the shirt only had a few wears until I moved down from the mountain and to a more progressive city where it was looked at as more of a hipster shirt than my real intension of wanting to be…tough?

There was a particular party that a little hidden gem was found in this infamous shirt. While mingling with the masses as I proudly sported my wolf shirt a girl stopped  and paid a compliment to my “beautiful four wolves on the tummy”. Four wolves?? From what I had known there where just three but before I jumped to conclusions and poured my beer on her head for confusing math with feet I went to the restroom to take a closer look. And I found a…

FUCKIN’ SURPRISE WOLF…IN A TREE!!! This blew my mind. There were so many thoughts running through my mind like why did I never notice this before? How many people have I met while wearing this and told them how proud I was of my three wolves (Alex, Joan and Dale)only to look like quite the fool to leave out the surprize wolf that has since been named Paul? Why did the artist put this wolf up in a tree? Does he/she just like to draw wolf heads? So many questions.

Well, I came out of the bathroom enlightened and proceeded to show off the surprise wolf to anyone who would listen. It may have been similar to a two-year old carrying around his potty to a dinner party gathering showing what he did. Regardless, that night changed the scope of that shirt and I walked a little taller knowing I had a shirt with a wolf in a tree. Or standing behind a tree trunk. No matter.

Today I look at the stained shirt and after writing this odd obituary I am not yet ready to let it go. No, I think there is a time and a place where I can get away with this shirt that has survived my time in Idaho and reminds me all the time of the most beautiful people who are still in my life. Strange how such silly things bring back the best memories. So when I wear this and people comment on its less-than-white appearance I will ask them who the press secretary is. FACE!

But I will admit there was a grown man who cried in his shirt when he thought he ruined it.

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I’m Three!

Well, before August gets here I suppose I should post something or suffer the fate of July 2010 being the first month I missed sharing my thoughts, random obscure trivia and death pools like how long will Brian Dennehy be circling the drain for.  Yeah, this blog has never been one to accumulate mass amounts of good karma points but I digress. Tonight I finally have time to catch everyone up. All three of you. There is no work that is pressing at the office, my research has finally gotten to a manageable cluster and I decided to rest and not run another race tomorrow.  I am currently staring at six more marathons and an ultra relay before October’s end. So with this free time, where to begin?

Living in Moscow Idaho is like living in the DOS prompt of America. There is really nothing here and if you leave this town you will drive through miles of rolling hills, blue sky and occasional farms only to arrive in another town that looks just like the one you came from. It’s a lot like living in a flash program. It will never change and does not end. Kind of like this.

I think my neuro research has effected my brain. Irony! I have spent so much time in the lab, hospital and library, I think I am socially inept. Yesterday I was at the local Co Op (hippy grocery) and the check out girl asked me what color my eyes were. I told her I wasn’t sure because I can’t see them. In my mind I was trying to be funny playing off the fact that I see with them and was unable to…you get it. But I came across like a dick-nerd. The worst kind! Being a nerd is bad enough but when a dick lable is added, that makes my fists itch. But I regained and thanked her for her compliments and the promptly spilled my change on the floor. I’m going to buy my fruit somewhere else for a while.

I witnessed my cat eat a fly today. It wasn’t good enough that she licks her butt but now eats flies. Just thought you needed to know.

This blog turns three years old in a couple of days. I don’t trust myself to post on the exact day so I’ll just say it now. Weee! A lot has happened in the past three years and I wouldn’t do anything different. Well, probably quit tequila sooner. I don’t miss making this face anymore.

I missed motherfucking David Bowie Day! Dag rabbit! Okay, since it was my brain child to begin with I think I reserve the right to change the date. It will now be David Bowie Day on August 14th. Mark it on your calendar. Do what you have to do and when you do, you’ll know what to do. Remember that.

So here is to another three years of nonsense! Thanks for tagging along and all the great people I have met on the way. Seriously, it’s amazing how many friends I have just because I decided one day to start this WordPress page. I love you all. So, I guess it’s back to the path. See ya on the way!

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I No Longer Fear Hell…

…for I have seen Valentines Day.

Now before you ask, I did not plan on ever watching this abortion of a film but I was staying at a friend’s house because I have an office over one hundred miles away from my place (not exaggerating) and that forces me to be a couch hobo from time to time. So, when he informed me his girlfriend was in charge of the movie, I had no choice but to watch…in horror.

Usually I would never admit to seeing this, fearing embarrassment equal to having an involuntary bowel evacuation on the monorail at Disney World but this movie was so cliché’, unimaginative, woman-suffrage-ending, nauseating craptastic and utterly boring, I swear to God it cost me a penal inch. About half way through my fists were so itchy I took a swing at my buddy’s cat. Lucky for it, cat’s have a sixth sense about bad movies and it retreated for the closet. Quick little devil.

So where to begin? The movie follows a number of different people who are all having issues with Valentines Day, ranging from the sappy guy who loves the holiday to the kid who wants to get roses for his sweetheart to the old couple that is having their 50th V-Day. There is about as much creativity as a Christian Mad Libs book here. I am actually pretty impressed with how dumb Hollywood thinks we are and still gets away with it! I mean, fuck, I watched this!

The cast is a diarrhea mix of anyone in the mainstream that will piss off a moderately intelligent person. So let’s break it down one by one. There are a lot of them.

Ashton Kutcher plays a guy who owns a flower shop, loves Valentines Day, proposes to his girlfriend but in a twist gets dumped (when I say twist, I mean like when Scooby Doo catches a ghost and it turns out to be the maid) and ends up with his long time best friend in the end. And he wears pink through the whole movie. I can’t decide who is more annoying; him or his character. I had to be on my best behavior since this wasn’t my place but within the first few minutes of his debut, I telepathically dented my soda can.

I was worried the film would only have one black hole of talent but when George Lopez showed up I breathed a huge sigh of relief. It’s funny but I tend to fall asleep to Nick@Nite and for some reason the George Lopez show is always on infringing on all the good shows. So I change the channel while saying aloud in my best Mexican accent “click” (cleeeeek). Naturally I repeated that when he showed up as one of Ashton’s employees. I didn’t even explain myself.

Okay, so I just looked at the IMDB page and the cast list is so long, if I ripped on every character in this movie, this post would be about 10,000 words and I would be create such a storm of hate, I think my ora would turn a visible tie dye of puke-purple-green and cause a rainstorm in this cafe’. So I will point out a few.

The typical chick-flick cute boy who buys flowers for his fist love in an elaborate display of innocent affection without fear of ridicule from his fellow classmates. Of course it’s not for a girl but the teacher. Shock and twist! But then he gets shot down by the teacher and he is forced to give his $55 dollar bouquet to the Indian girl. If I was a writer for this movie, this kid would be a quadriplegic and bullies would disconnect the battery from his rascal wheelchair and roll him into the girls restroom.

Ah, Jennifer Garner is the teacher of the sweet boy whose misguided crush leads her to her best friend Ashton Kutcher after she learns of her doctor/boyfriend’s double life marriage. She beats the shit out of a paper mache heart filled with chocolate (obviously women’s substitute to prozac on Valentine’s day) with an aluminum bat. God, who is the doctor that would cheat on that walking radar dish? Ooooo, she might hear me

Of course! It’s Dr. McDickless! How could one cast this movie any different? Wait…where is his counterpart, Dr. McDouche?

Oh good, there he is. I was worried that he would be left out from this all-star circus. He plays the quarterback that is in turmoil because he is gay and has to come out. That’s bad news for his agent…

Jessica Beil because she is a depressed single girl on Valentine’s Day that eats chocolate by the pound. Wow. That’s a hell of a character. Way to be an actress of discernment. but there is hope for her because she is falling for a sportscaster who is breaking the gay football hero story and it is none other than…

Jamie Foxx! Is it just me or does this guy look retarded? And by retarded I mean full on Oshkosh overalls and a helmet. I have always thought that and I feel liberated to speak my mind. But his powerful boss doesn’t think so. She is a strong stocky woman who could care less about Valentine’s Day because she couldn’t get laid in a prison with a fist full of pardons. That can only be…

Kathy Bates!

Man, I can’t do this anymore. The list is too long and the characters are too two-dimensional! The only way this movie could take anymore of a turn for the worst would be if Queen Latifah was in it.

Of course she is! Aaaaaaaaaand scene!

Let me end this on a good note. My buddy’s girlfriend cried twice during this movie and that’s okay. Different strokes for different folks and sometimes strokes make people retarded.

Good night folks!

19

Finally. Self-Aware.

At exactly 11:34pm on the 8th of March, 2010, I finally became totally self-aware. I believe it to be like a dog who figured out that his shock collar finally ran out of batteries and he is free to roam around and roll in anything he wants to. And it only took an incredible amount of pain, misunderstandings, drunken forgetfulness, white lies for fear of being labeled something totally opposite of what is and anger. None of this is me. I was never raised to be this. But with this new found awareness comes the responsibility to be more proactive than reactive.

To be more proactive than reactive has not reached complete consciousness with me but I know I have switched gears by my subconscious actions. It’s a feeling and one I am familiar with. Much like the same as when I stopped being panicked when shot at but slow and methodical with calm and a weird peace. I wish there was a word for it. Back then I used to say it was “divine stupidity; commonly mistaken as courage”.  No, I think a real switching of gears happen without control and without objective knowledge. It just does.

So, with that being said, I am now going to tell you about my TA in the class  Neuroscience: Clinical and Behavioral Study. He has a neurological tick that causes him to make high pitch chirps every few seconds. It is mostly like a mild case of  Tourette’s. And I find it funny. Boy, I wish I didn’t. There has been so many times we would be studying his certain neuro disorder and he is in the back of the classroom trying to muffle his “YIP!” every few seconds. I do feel for the guy but irony is my kind of humor. I am now self-aware enough to know I am an incredible asshole.

So, I needed to get that off my chest. I always let you know what is on the noggin. Sometimes I feel the people who don’t know me at all, know me the best. Talk about irony! Waa ha ha ha!

A little something to keep you up at night

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Sooooo…. Yup

It has been so long and I have missed you all so much. Really. Honestly. The thing is I just don’t know how to jump back in this whole blogging thing again so I guess I am just going to do it. There has been a few life directions I have changed and last Sunday I turned 30 so this is as good of a time as any to start up the ol’ VeggieMacabeness that will someday be the word of all humanity. Just wait. “Be Excellent To Each Other”.

I was asked to speak at the 2010 Young Executives Conference for NEC and Konica Minolta next week about what lessons I have learned and how I attribute them to my success. There are a few things wrong with that last statement. One, I am neither young or an executive. I am a project manager for a medium size office that will pay for my Neuro PhD. Two, everything I learned in life has been from the 1987-91 TGIF line up on ABC so the joke is on them, I guess. Three, I am far from a success. Do successful people break off the trunk from the broccoli in the grocery store to make it lighter or hold onto a box of Nabisco Spookie Fruits from the eighties? Not really.

I know I am getting older and it really hit me when my parents sent me their gift. It was a fruit basket. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful because many people my age don’t get anything, but a fruit basket? I just sent a fruit basket to a new customer as a token of appreciation. This does not compute. Maybe I am just being a whiny weenie Will? Nononono. Wtf? A fruit basket?

I have finally managed to ignore all vices for the past couple of months and hit the gym to get back in the shape I was in at 28. My goal is to be in better shape, look hotter and be tip-top happidy hap-hap happy come this summer. I have a goal to make this the one true crazy summer of fun and mayhem. And then grow up. You know, like buy land, get married and have kids? I at least make the effort.

Oh shit, it happened. I hate teenagers. Everything about them makes me want to hurt puppies and babies. I have no idea where that came from but as I am writing this I just saw two walk by in their emo-skinny jean-black and purple-wierdo hat-sad walk and I want to say, “MRAAAROOORAPDAP!” because there are no words for my pissiness. “I weep for the future“.

I know that this post had a tinge of bitchiness to it but I promise great stuff on the way including a Megadeth backstage post on the first of March. Man, I hope Dave isn’t too big of a prick. And I hope I don’t get nervous and get shaky leg syndrome like the time I met Alice Cooper. That was just embarrassing.

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