EVERYTHING I LEARNED
There is a famous sign that hangs in many offices. There’s actually a book written on the same subject. “Everything I know, I learned in Kindergarten.” It is true in some respects, but in the grand scheme of things, I would beg to differ that my parents had a lot to do with shaping a lot of my opinions, thoughts, idea’s, morality, and the infinite other things you need to equip yourself with before you finally hit the real world. Then, when you finally do end up in the cold hard world of reality, you finally realize what your parents had been telling you along – was all true!
When you get to my age (mid 30’s) you do one of two things. You either have something happen to you, or others around you, that makes you question your mortality. Or, you have an early mid life crisis. You know the kind, where the life you’re living suddenly becomes null and void over night. You don’t know why, but the meaning is suddenly gone, and you embark on a journey to find out who you truly are. I thankfully had the previous happen to me. I had several of my friends loose their parents, either one or both. I went to a few funerals, and started to wonder what life would be like without my parents. When you do such things, it’s the clarity of what they have given you over the course of your life that becomes crystal clear. Not that you would be happy they are gone, but the sudden realization of how deeply they have affected your life becomes apparent. So here I am, at work, writing this little piece of journalism, not for my parents, but more for myself. So I can truly understand and be thankful for everything they have given me. Things so irreplaceable, that loosing one’s wallet and credit cards pale by comparison. These are things you will have your lifetime, which you cannot undo. Yet, every single day for the past two years (the approximation of my examination), I have found something I’ve said, something I’ve thought, something I wanted to do, could all be traced back to something my parents taught me. Scary isn’t it? Not scary in the sense that the idea of freewill is usurped, it’s the mere idea of how large an impact my parents have had in my life. It often gives me time to pause and consider the implications. So the following are just a few of the monumental things my parents have taught me, and how these have no doubt shaped how I see the world, interact with people in this cold, harsh reality of life, and the tools they have given me to survive and succeed, on my own.
Before I do that though, there are a few things I must present in order to frame the following. If you could ever have two parents more diametrically opposed, it would be my parents. My father came from a large family, living in a small suburb of Minneapolis, in a small house. His parents (from what my Mum tells me) were ungodly cruel to him. Physical and psychological torture was the common theme in the household. It was a blue-collar family that struggled to survive every month. My mum, on the other hand, came from a wealthy family, in a rich suburb of Minneapolis. Her father was a self made man. Accountant. Absolutely brilliant, his mind was as sharp as a sword. My parents came from different sides of the railroad tracks, but their philosophies on how to raise my Sister and I was born of their own families. My father wanted us to have everything growing up. My Mother wanted us to know the importance of hard work and effort. This, I suppose was the first thing I was learned. The second was more important, but infinitely tied to the first.
So let’s start with what both of my parents contributed to my “worldview” of reality. The first was to always appreciate the role of hard work in your life. Nothing will be given to you. My Father didn’t want us to have to work for things. He worked his ass off to provide for us, and wanted us to appreciate the better things in life. My Mom wanted us to know the importance of hard work. Both came across, and I blended the two in my own mind to get a greater message. You will be rewarded for your hard work. Don’t take anything for granted. There are no handouts in life, and if you truly want something, you ultimately will have to work hard to get them. When you’ve reached a certain level, things do become easy with money, but never forget where you came from. The old saying, “As soon as you forget where you came from, that’s when you’re headed back there.” certainly applies. So they both instilled in me that hard work pays off. The most important thing you can have in life is to have a great work ethic. Work hard till the job is done, and done right. This brings me to the second thing my parents taught me – compromise.
Although my parents fought over the most minor stuff, somehow they always found some kind of compromise. I don’t think they ever picked up that this really hit home with me, but it did. Having two completely different approaches to child rearing, they always had to find some middle ground. Right? Well, I got that one loud and clear. Sometimes my dad won out, sometimes my mom. In either case, I knew it was important to compromise to get to a solution both people could live with. As I grow older, I don’t have that surly fight in me so much, this one thing has made my life much easier.
Fashion. What could be more important than your first impression? Nothing. My father is an incredibly smart man. He had very little growing up, got a degree in mathematics from the University of Minnesota and made millions selling high technology for many, many years. His work ethic was second to none. Both my mother and father impressed me early on the importance of dressing properly and conservatively. My mother would coordinate, and my father always told me to iron your shirt, press your suit, and polish your shoes. They both instilled in me to dress properly when I would go out for anything like church, an interview, a new job, or a date. Any occasion where making a first impression was important, and to maintain the idea you weren’t a slob.
When I was 14, I went to my first job (because my dad wanted me to work as soon as I was old enough) “interview”. My dad yelled at me for twenty minutes about how I’m not wearing jeans, I have to tuck in my shirt and I shouldn’t go there and present myself like a slob to a potential new boss. I finally relented and did as I was told. It was funny, because as soon as I got there, the manager came over, looked me up and own, and smiled. He asked me two questions, then told me I was hired and to show up the next day for work. It was something I thought was stupid, but when the manager looked me up and down, I knew my dad was right. It was the first lesson, and will always be seared in my memory.
To this day, I always hear him when I’m getting ready for an interview. Black sox, black shoes, black belt. Dress conservatively. Choose a modest tie, conservative pinstripe or solid color suit. I always hear my mother in my mind telling me what colors go with which, what tie will look good, but not overbearing. I see people (CEO’s of companies for Christ sake!) all the time who obviously have never been told how to dress properly. They wear brown belts with black shoes, crazy ass ties that scream “looser!!”, and the most gawdy suits you can imagine. I see all this and look heavenward, and thank God and god for my parents putting me on the right track when it comes to dressing myself. Since I took a lot of what they said together and melded that into one thing, let’s look at some things my mom and dad separately have done to impact my life.
I’ll start with my father. I can honestly say I’ve always held him in high regard and have always been proud and fortunate to have him as my father. There are so many things he’s taught me, the list would be too long to list them all. I’ll focus on some of the things that have struck me in the last few years.
Since sports have always been a big part of my life, my father instilled so many things about sports that I’ve applied to my own life. The single, most important thing I took from his teachings with regards to sports was this: always be a fighter, never give up. I know now, how important this was in his own life, so to hammer this theme a lot over my sports career separated me from the normal jocks who I was always compete ting against. This one thing has served me well. Now don’t think my father basically said to fight everybody, be a cheap-ass and play unfairly. It just meant to never give up. You get hacked from someone; you don’t lie around looking for the call. You get up, and keep going. This always gave me something a lot of guys I knew didn’t have – heart. There were some many jocks at my high school that coasted through sports simply because of talent. When stuff got hard, they got like soft serve ice cream and packed it in. I loved it when the stress levels went up; I loved it when things got tough. It separated the people who were determined to win, from those who simply wanted to showcase their talent. Being somewhat smaller (around 5’6” in high school), I had to have that burning desire to fight through the rough and tumble stuff to survive. Now take this and apply it to any part of your life and you see how important this one lesson is.
Another critical thing my father taught me was to learn how to help yourself, be self-sufficient. It seems an odd thing, but over the years, it has helped me in ways that looking back, were the difference between living and dying. It was THAT important. The one example I always use is when my ex-girlfriend (and mother of my son) left me high and dry in Fargo. She moved back to Minneapolis, and I suddenly had to pay child support, finish off my senior year in college and somehow work 50 hours a week to get by. My daily routine became the same thing day in, day out, my friends abandoned me, and I was left to my devices for months on end. It was a pitiless existence, and I was severely depressed. But just as my father had instilled in me when I was playing hockey, I just never gave up. I got up every morning, I did what I needed to do, and I trudged on. I didn’t want to ask for help, I knew if I wanted to get through it, it was up to me. No counseling, no drugs to numb the pain. I just took it on the chin and never went down. That was the difference between giving up and ending my life, or battling through it, knowing there was light at the end of the tunnel. One lesson, so many applications, but that was the hardest, most difficult time of my life. It was a great life lesson to know what happens when you get left out in the cold in life, and there’s no one around to help you.
Of course, my father gave me something I never fully appreciated until I had my own son. The idea of sacrifice and being un-selfish was something I completely overlooked. I look back now and am simply amazed at how much my father sacrificed to be at my soccer games, my baseball games, my hockey games, my communion, fishing, and a bizillion other things. It meant so much to him to be there for me when I got off the ice, just to pat me on the back and tell me. “Good work, great game.” I always thought this was normal, talking about the game on the ride home, what I did well, what I needed to do better. Now I have my son, I want so much to be that dad for him. It’s only now, I fully understand many of the other kids who had parents who were divorced and one parent or neither one of their parents would show up for their stuff. It must have been really hard on them now that I think about it. I was lucky; my father would work 8 hours a day, drive 45 minutes home, change his clothes and spend an hour outside throwing the football around with me. He never got mad, and never said, “No, not tonight Karl, I’m too tired”. There was so much time he gave me when I was growing up. It showed me how important sacrificing for your kids is, and being un-selfish with your time can have a really positive impact on kids. It did on me. Only now, can I really understand how important that was growing up.
Understand my father was a mathematician. He was so very analytical in everything he did. If he were building something, he would map it out, analyze it, put together an approach and then move on in the order that he wanted to. As a child, this meant actually reading the directions for ANYTHING before we plugged it in or put two legos together. As trivial as it seemed as a child, I now understand how important it was. As an adult, I still read the directions anytime I get a new VCR, DVD player, walkman, etc. His analytical, logical thought process has helped me out of many jams. When all else fails, you still have to read the directions. No jumping ahead, no cutting corners. Read the directions, and everything will be just fine. I saw how he broke things down, examined things and did things in a logical manner. His teachings helped me to sort things out, untangle problems one step at a time. It’s something small, but probably has had the biggest impact on my life overall. This also taught me to be patient. Take your time, and do it right the first time. His attention to the smallest detail showed me you couldn’t overlook anything.
The one thing I do give full credit to my father for is my warped sense of humor. Making me laugh was always the easiest thing to do, but my father had such an intelligent, witty sense of humor to him. Something I latched onto early in my life. The way he told jokes, and the way he told stories were so unique. Just a few nights ago, my wife and I stopped over to give my mother her birthday present and chat a bit. My dad told me an old story about one of his co-workers at one of his old jobs, and how he put in his two-week notice. It was a story I had never heard, but he had me rolling after a few lines. The funny thing? I knew I told stories the same way, with the same facial expressions and the same delivery – VERBATUM. When I always tell a story like the one he told, I can hear my father’s voice, and visualize his expressions in my mind. It’s me talking, but it is for sure my father, always coming through in some weird way. It’s weird to think you would develop your own sense of humor, but mine mirrors my father’s in ways I could never dream of. I often think this is some strange genetic link that will be passed to my son. Something of a sub-conscious family heirloom passed on from generation to generation. So now on to my mother, and the wonderful things she’s inspired in me to do.
My mother is the pacifist, the environmentalist, the activist, and the spiritual superwoman. What my father didn’t give me, my mother more than filled in the blanks. It was the classic case of Ying and Yang. Whatever my father left out, my mother aptly filled in the blanks. Were there was strength, my mother provided restraint. Were there was fight, my mother provided pacifism. Where there was amplified voices and loudness, my mother provided calm. Where there was callousness, she provided emotion and empathy. My mother (and my sister, god love her) took great care in making sure I was in touch with my feminine side. There are many things she taught me, but below are some of the big ones I have carried with me my whole life.
My mother was a pacifist. She told me never to fight, walk away. My father taught to fight. Sometimes I would fight, and other times I would simply walk away. As I grew older, my mother instilled in me that my intelligence was a more dangerous weapon than my fists. Once I started to learn this, it became a fun game to simply outwit the people who wanted to fight me. Mental toughness and metal finesse is what she gave me. Over the years, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve simply talked my way out of a jam in a bar with some drunken idiot. Because of this, my nickname quickly became “the weasel”. As I’ve gotten older, I employ these techniques much more frequently. I basically avoid confrontation, and allow my superior mental skills to carry me through. This of course, also gave me the basis for how to properly argue with people. My mother gave me the great foundation; and it was my college professors who sharpened my wit and made my arguing skills far more nimble.
More than anything, my mother fostered my own creativity. Where my father showed me the analytical side of life, my mother always encouraged my artistic, creative side. I could draw for hours, color pages and pages of books, and let my mind explore. My mom could give me some pencils and paper and I was in wonderland for hours. It was a part of my childhood that I loved. My mother always encouraged this side of us, and it served me well in college and in other areas of my life. It was something fairly simple, but gave me another angle to life. She told me my imagination was something very powerful and potent. Simply honing my imagination to use in other areas of my life has been incredible. Without my mother encouraging this side of me, I never could appreciate art, sculpture, architecture and many other things that to so many people see as dour and un-interesting.
Life, how precious is life? My mother instilled very deeply in me the importance of feelings, emotion and empathy. When you hurt other people how does it feel? How does it feel when you hurt? Simple lessons, but something that has grown so deep in me, it’s hard to NOT think of anything on an emotional level. Making sure I’m aware of other people’s feelings, their emotions and being considerate of that is so important. Tolerance is what she taught me. Being reserved, balanced in your emotions. Curb your anger, look inside your own emotions, and think beyond the physical anger you feel. Pretty deep huh? Once you start see the implications, it becomes staggering how important this became in my own life. How to deal with people that have never learned this is scary. I realize she taught something not many people have or cherish. It is the humanistic level some people never get to. It’s a whole other level of emotional stability and feeling.
My mother, even in her non-violent manner, also instilled in me to never underestimate the underdog, and her fiery spirit always taught me to never, ever, underestimate people. She also showed me that sometimes you have go your own way to be successful. The best example is when she (a woman) coached my hockey team in a league that had all male coaches. She got hazed and they dumped on her and what not. She just didn’t listen to the negativity and just pushed on. Well, well, what happened? Only the city championship, that’s all. She never told the other male coaches to go shove it; she just didn’t listen and did her job. Trailblazer? You bet. Strongest willed woman I know? You bet. I was young enough, but smart enough to know this was the example to follow. She never bothered anybody; she just let her work speak for itself. How wonderful is that? She showed me how to take the negative and turn into something positive.
My mother has also been a fiery woman when it came to politics. She really hammered home a ton of stuff that I have taken to heart. She instilled a very strong environmental awareness; she always spoke up, no matter the consequence. She taught me to make sure my voice is heard. If you don’t stand for something, you’ll go for anything was what I learned. Never be silent, speak up. Being an individual is more important than simply going along with other people because they THINK they know best. My mother has never taken shit from anybody, and her fiery, activist attitude is definitely strong with me. Many, many times in college I stood alone in defending my viewpoints and philosophies. I didn’t do it to be cool; I did it because I thought it was the right thing to do. Standing by what you believe in is very important to me, and is something I look for in my friends. I would prefer someone who takes a position and defends it, rather than to simply cave in and tell me I’m right. This is something that was instilled early in me and has simply grown over the years.
Some of the very nature of my life, I think a lot of these things have been amplified over the years. People always talk of how their friends influence them. How they take a lot of their beliefs and make them their own. I know a lot of people like that. I know a ton more people who simply follow whatever their friends do or say to fit in. Through my whole life I’ve thought of myself as an individual. I never had a clique in high school to hang out with. I always saw those people as rich snobs. People who saw themselves above everybody else. I was a jock, but didn’t like hanging with the jocks. I skateboarded (much to the dismay of my parents) and even those guys didn’t take to me very well because I was a jock. It’s not that I didn’t fit in; I never WANTED to fit in anywhere. Thus, I cast off my friends in high school, and started a new in college. When shit got bad in college, I found I really only had a few real friends. To this day, I probably have three people who can I honestly say are my real friends. Is that sad? Nope, it doesn’t bother me; I choose to live my life like I have. Having said that, my influences to a large degree were my parents. When I told my parents because of sports I never drank until college, they thought that was good. I knew people who had DUI’s before they were in college. They thought it was funny, I thought they were morons. Is that how you get “cool points” with your friends? Maybe that helps explain why I didn’t get those people. Maybe that’s why now I can look back at the first part of my life and be thankful my parents influenced me to the degree they did. They showed me the right stuff to follow; they pushed me in the right direction. I’m not in drug rehab, I’m healthy and still enjoying life like I’m 25. This isn’t a thank you letter; it’s just a bit of information to tell them they did a great job raising me. I wouldn’t have it any other way, and I wouldn’t want any other parents. They should take solace in the fact that there are many parts of me that are them. Many parts of them I hear when I talk to people, when I argue with people, when I tell jokes. When I hold my wife close and love just holding her in my arms. When I hurt when my son cries, when I score a goal when somebody told me I couldn’t. When I close my eyes and dream in vivid color, When I open a new DVD player and grab and read the directions first, when I read a spy novel book and get lost in myself. When I change jobs and my dad says, “You’re doing the right thing son.” When I fall asleep every night knowing my parents have given everything of themselves to make me who I am. I want them to know we are infinitely connected; they are so much a part of me. They can sleep well at night, knowing I intend to pass all of this knowledge to my son and future children. It was all worth it, every day, every minute.
Goodnight now.
Karl
SOMETIMES THINGS HAPPEN SO FAST. . .
First is was the impending lockout, then there were the debates, then the whispers started, and now the circle is complete. . . 
First of all, I'm sooooooooooooo pissed and depressed today. Hockey finally conceded and cancelled it's season after the NHL failed to secure a new collective bargaining agreement between the owners and the players. So what happens now? Who knows, but its going to be a very long summer for hockey fans.
Other big news this week was the sacking of Flip Saunders from the Timberpuppies and Kevin McHale took over as the coach. The verdict is till out on McHale as a coach, he's 1-1 so far.
So what good news is there? Well, my Manchester United Red Devils beat their rivals Manchester City 2-0 in one of the most hyped Derby's this eason.
The best news though? I'm leaving my current employer in a handful of weeks and some days. I'm already pumped to see my checks get a shot in the arm. Too many months wondering what the fuck I'm going to do to get by after I get paid. Stability can be such a nice thing sometimes.
That's all I got today, nothing major, just a little update. Can't think of any funny stories, soooooooooooooooooooooooooooo bored, I guess??
LATE
THINGS THAT MAKE YOU SAY "OH FUCK"
Starting a new job isn't easy. Hell, changing careers is in the top ten of stress related life changes. Well, add me to the list of these poor bastards.
As of exactly two days ago, I accepted an inside job at a monolithic company. You see, I just read a funny article about a guy who started a blog after he got a gig at Goggle. It didn't go so well, too much information for Google's likening ended up on the internet. Read about it here. So I will spare you the details of my high profile earnings, comp package, etc. I always wanted to live in the corporate world, tell people I work at some big name place. You know those conversations right?
"So where do you work?"
"insert big corporate name here"
"Wow! That's really cool, what do you do there?"
"I'm in sales, we do (insert really cool product here)"
"So what do those do? "
Instant gratification, instant corporate cred. It makes you look cool, like you have your life together and are in the process of working your way up. It also usually means your making good money and have a stable job. At least that's the perception - right?
Who wouldn't want that? Me! For so many years I lauded my friends who were running en mass to big corporations after their college graduations. Me? Nahhhhhhhh, I would prefer having a dynamic life, do my own thing, make 30K a year and have my personal freedom.
So when does 30K not cut it anymore? When do you get out of your futon in the morning and WISH you had a better bed, a better apartment (or better, an actual house or townhome) to live in, or just better STUFF? Well, for me, it happened right around 34. I figure with no 401K at my present employer, and a hard cap on my earnings, I figured out my dreams had changed, my life has changed, and I want out.
When your 25, you appreciate working in a mall, picking up 18 year old girls with fake i.d.'s. You don't need much else. When your over 30, picking up 25 year old women is hard because you don't have enough money to get yourself a beer. This is when you know things must change.
So I spent many, many, months devouring the internet looking for a job with a big company. I work in wireless (cell phones) so I thought a jump to a major carrier would be an easy fix. I got several interviews with those carriers. However, when you know more about what the people interviewing you do about THEIR OWN product, it creates some animosity. For instance:
"So why do you want to be a sales trainer for Verizon Wireless?"
"Because I know your product inside and out and I know the best way to sell that product and which trainers are good, and which trainers are terrible. So I know what works and what doesn't"
*sarcastic look on woman's face*
"What do you think doesn't work in regards to our trainers?"
(nice - just set me up you pissy bitch. I can't believe she actually asked me that.)
"The trainers that just spew the information to the sales people. The ones who don't give you any good ideas on how to sell something they've never sold. There are trainers who really don't train slaes people, in my opinon"
*another pissy look from interviewer*
"Interesting, would you care to name a few?"
(at this point, it's confrontational, and time for me to go!)
"I don't think that's necessary, and I don't think this interview is going much further - is it? Because (here's where I get pissed and unload some stress) you came and got me 20 minutes late, have asked me poorly stated questions from the get go, and honestly, if you're going to be my boss, I wouldn't last a week. I have much more important things to do then to sit here and be grilled by a bunch of people who couldn't carry my jock in regards to selling your products. So if you want a trainer who can train the hell out of sales people and make them produce, then hire me. If you're just looking for some lackey on a leash, then I'm not your guy - oaky?"
*stunned silence*
So I get up, put my stuff back on and walk out still fuming. So this is how it went. Several interviews, some good, some great, and some just plain miserable. I finally came to the conclusion that I have too much knowledge and too much experience. Oh yeah, got shitloads of retail interest to run a retail store. I've worked retail, I know how it's a grind during the holidays. I don't want that. I don't want to have to work on the weekends. Thanks, but no thanks. Sothese carriers, they don't want people with experience, so they can mold them into their own little robots. I've spent 7 years in this god forsaken industry, which is a lifetime and this is what I get. So here I am, ready to flush all this stuff down and start over.
So I changed gears and started looking at inside sales positions at large companies. Suddenly I started getting stuff here and there. And sure enough I finally got my offer. So as of next month, I'm a ghost in this industry. Gone, see ya, bu-bye!!
I was hesitant at first, but as the time drags on and the more customers I have to deal with, I'm glad I'm moving to cube land. I'm geeked to come in and produce like the top dogs. Go balls out for the next two months and get to where I want to go.
So now its a toss up. My next blog, will it be a book or corporate experience??
The future is uncertain at this point. . .
Which leads me to my picture of the day:
The weather man sez we've only had 12" of snow this winter! How pathetic! So now, at my other work, we're already taking down our snowboard displays and trying to get rid of the stuff. So that means spring can't be too far off, right? So in the midst of of all this tuff, I can't help to post a few pics of mountain biking. Enjoy. Also, I'll be posting pics of my new bike (as of last summer) as soon as I get em' off of my camera.
Yeah, I know, she's riding a POS GT, so save your emails for somebody else!
LATE
ONE FROM THE EDGE. .
I read blogs, mostly for fun, sometimes for material or something to jar a memory loose so I can have something to write about. Today was special though. I just remembered this great story about an old roommate.
Now, I must preface this by saying I've never had any really bad roommates. Most of my roommates in college were on my soccer team. So acting stupid when you're lit up, or peeing in their shoes after a long night of drinking was common. Going days and not showering, using all of your roommates soap (the always dangerous mamalian bar trick), and generally acting like a slob didn't go well with the sort I lived it. It was accepted we all had some class and chose to be respectful of those around us.
When I moved back to Minneapolis, I wasn't so fortunate to pick out decent roommates. You see, I didn't want to live with my parents, so after I got a job (which was a really shitty one) I moved in some of my co-workers. ALL of them were cards in their own right, but the best was probably Terry or Josh. Terry was one of these people that didn't believe in showering or changing clothes for that matter. He would basically work 11 hours in the summer heat, with a full polyester suit. Then come home, lay down on the couch fall asleep, get up the next morning and just go to work. I think his all time record was like 5 days doing this. He FINALLY took a shower after several people mentioned a nostril flaring stench following him wherever he went. Thus, he was nicknamed "DISenterry". Now Josh, he was another ball of wax. I nicknamed him "Yoshi" because he had a glass pot pipe shaped like a mushroom that reminded me of the Super Mario Bros game.
Anyways, the guy was a pothead, and four years older than anybody in the apartment (which put him around 29,30). This guy just mystified me to no end. He got caught up with some English broad that liked fancy gifts and expensive food. It wouldn't be anything for them to go out and blow $200 on lunch. Of course, Josh was a sucker for a nice ass and big tits. He ALWAYS ended up paying the tab. Of course, none of us were making any money, let alone enough to be supporting a fucking English mistress and her expensive habits.
So after several months of doing this instead of paying the bills and more importantly RENT, we were on the verge of being evicted. So one night his skank English bitch comes over for one more roll in the hay before she heads back across the pond.
As fate would have it, they were drunk and started to get pretty loud. She was such a fucking screamer, I always had to put on my walkman in order to avoid hearing them knock boots till all hours of the morning. Tonight was no different. So as they were getting louder, I started to pound on the wall and yell "Put a sock in that bitches mouth motherfucker!! I'm trying to sleep!!" Then it would quiet down for a bit, then escalate again. This is when I finally started to plot. You see, they'd go on and on for like an hour, then break and come out into the living room, then go back in for another session. In between sessions, I went into my other roommates bathroom and got her baby powder and put it all over his sheets, then pulled his comforter back over the evidence. I was banking on it being dark (he liked letting candles burn all night long) when they were getting it on. Of course, being drunk and horny, they never noticed it until they were almost done. The reaction was PRICELESS.
It went something like this. . .
HER: Oh god, pound me baby, pound me so hard!!"
HIM: Oh yeah baby!! Oh yeeeeeeeeaaaaaaahhhhh!!"
*then abrupt stop*
HIM: "What the fuck did you put on me?"
HER: "Ummmmmm nothing Josh, why?"
HIM: "Because there's shit all over in my bed!!"
HER: *screams*
HIM: "WHAT THE FUCK IS IN MY BED?!?!?!"
HER: "Oh my god, look all this pasty shit in the bed!!!"
HIM: "What the FUCK is IT?"
Just the sheer panic in his voice had me laughing hysterically for hours. Not to mention everytime I thought about it, it just made me laugh out loud. Classic, completely classic.
The funny thing is this. We did get evicted. We moved into another place under the condition with the landlord we would be on a month-to-month lease. Yeah, we moved in in May and on August 31 (that's just four months later kiddies) we got a letter that said our landlord wasn't going to renew our lease. After inquiring as to why he wasn't, it was pretty simple. Josh hadn't paid rent for the past 3 months!! So the landlord simply reclaimed mine and my roommates deposit in order to pay for the rent this dumbass never paid.
Needless to say, everytime I went to go rent an apartment, I got refused because the eviction was now on my renters history. So in order to get this off, I had to take all of my roommates to court, have them sign a shitload of papers about what happened so I could be absolved. It was a MAJOR headache and something I'm glad I've never had to go through since.
After that little experience, I ended up moving in with my best friend. Which was better in many regards, but not all. I'll get a few of those experiences later. . .
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh shit yyyyyyyyyyeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh
the pic, errrrrrrr pics of the day. . .
After John O Shea's goal sealed the deal for the Red Devils. The announcer said he could play for 15 more years and never have a prettier goal.
What can I say? The match was everything it was hyped to be and more. In the end, my Red Devils prevailed. In doing so, they leap frogged Arsenal in the standings and set up an end of the season barn burner between us and Chelsea.
Figures to be a great ending to another great season!!!
LATERS BRAH!
LET THERE BE LIGHT!!!!
So after almost two years in the Chemtrail trenches, I have decided to delete my Chemtrails blog. Ahhhhhhh yes, it was hard, but needed to be done. I've posted my feelings in another post on this blog (Tuesday May 25th, 2004) The link is here if you need it. But just in case you wanted a window to the madness, here you go. DONT FORGET YOUR TINFOIL HAT EITHER!!!
So now I've got more ideas for another blog. I've always wanted to write a book and I think starting another blog specifically for that purpose would be cool. Then having people comment on it and help me edit it would be even cooler. I'll have to get some more stuff down before I start off on this endeavor.
Okay, so what is going in in this bizzaro world we live in? Hmmmmmmmmmmmm, some good news here and here. So I was pretty much awash in emotion as the Iraqi election happened. Pretty insane some of the things we take for granted here. People risked their lives to go vote. I would say that's a determined set of people bent on realizing thier own hopes and dreams for thier country. Also a gigantic victory for Bush, who has been burdened with expectations of failure from Libs and Dems alike. Oh well, such is the climate in our country these days.
Another great hope is this movie I just learned about today. The documentary is called "Voices of Iraq" and is a pretty powerful story of the Iraqi nobody has seen up to this point. Check out the trailer Pretty incedible story - I know. Intersting how the editors had no idea how biased the media really were here. There are several examples cited in the movie which was stunning. You can also rent the movie at NetFlix if you want.
My new favorite home. Very cool people, lots of eager debate. Good for the soul I say.
Brutality in all it's glory. That's what the NHL lockout has become. Millionaires bickering with Billionaires. Who gets the shaft everytime? Ummmmmmmm, the players. Last chance is this week to salvage the season. Read all about it here. Like Is aid, stick a fork in the NHL it's over. I mean the NHL is over. Not coming back for probably another 2 years. By then, it won't matter. The fans will be long gone and they won't come back. So here's what I say to the owners. .
Nothin much else going on here, Ive got another brillant story I'll be posting tomorrow. Another one of those stories that will have you saying W T F? ? ?
LATE
oops, forgot, the pic of the day - right??
In honor of those who risked their lives to vote, this is for you FREE Iraqis and your incredible bravery in the face of overwhelming odds.
pretty amazing shit my friend. . . .
