My arch nemesis / next door neighbor is calling the house during a Patriots game while I'm on an astral plane with friends. "Ugh I just hate being bothered" says Mom, oblivious to my personal polyphonic spree. Mom picks up the phone and invites her over. I chime in with a little rhetorical rhetoric.
"Then why would you invite the most bothersome person we *know* over?"
I am in rare form.
My neighbor's a boozer, a mess, and an excuse maker, and constantly looking for validation from subservient people who would rather placate her, than challenge anything she says or does - when they do she sours, says your mean, and changes the subject. Picture Fran Dreschers voice combined with a life of cigarettes, divorce, and disappointment, and you'll have a mind's eye picture.
Now she was coming over, again, to watch a game she didn't care about, again, to distract the entire family from the most important part of the game, again, while drunk, again, and would very likely seek advice from me, again, that she would completely brush off when I told her, again, the truth.
What's the most bizarre day of your *life*? Stressful, luckiest, strangest, craziest, it's all fair game. What's been your biggest blow up due in part to a stressful / bizarre day? (Read on to hear about mine - be warned it's long (like my Johnson).)
What she didn't know, and I haven't told *you* yet, is that I woke up at 9am that day, got lost in Boston for an hour after google's GPS confused the Boston Globe with the stupid Omni theater dome on the Museum of Science, had a job interview, may have accidentally parked in Tony Mazz's spot at The Boston Globe when I found it, was suckered into working from home on an off day, then because no one *told* anyone I was working from home, had to keep like three fellow employees from going home on time to assist with networking stuff. I was so stressed out that by the time the game rolled around I simply had no shits in my tummy left to give, and by the end of halftime my tummy was filled with sunshine.
But first, some background on my neighbor: One time she spent 45 minutes drunkenly quizzing me about all the various things her high-school aged flunkee of a son could do in the media.
"He likes sports! Like, sports!" she said.
I listed about half a dozen things her son could do with an interest in sports, from retail to volunteering at the local cable station to cover college basketball games, to saying he could help coach stuff for the YMCA or youth leagues.
"No, no, not like that - like, if you name a player, he can tell you what team they were on, like, where they went to school, what position they play, right away".
"Maybe he'll grow up to be a wikipedia page, then?"
"What's a wikipedia?" Came the response before she goes on to ask me about how 'online dating' works because she 'needs a man'. When I started to explain, she became bored with the complexities of writing about oneself - asked if I'd do it for her, and then changed the subject to how she intends to sue the guy who sold a car to her 'as is' because it didn't work, and yelled at her son for stealing cigarettes from her. You should never judge a person until you've walked a mile in their shoes. This woman's shoes are filled with enough dried bullshit to start bon fires for every pioneer on the Oregon trail.
She stumbled over, brought pretty good mini pumpkin pies then proceeded to force everyone to eat one. "You'll LOVE it, come on! Eat them! Before they get cold!"
She proceeded to ask me about a stupid freaking router she has that literally three people in my family have told her how to use. I refuse to do tech support for anyone I know personally because if something doesn't work at any point in the future, it's obviously going to be on me to fix it.
"So my sister has a router," This was not new information.
"The one you said you had two weeks ago?"
"Yeah,"
"Did that work out?"
"I don't have it yet,"
"So you don't remember anything I told you?"
(Note: explaining tech support, that thing I do for a living, during my free time, on drugs, is not fun)
"Can't you just come over tomorrow and do it?"
"I have to work from 11am to Midnight,"
"Well I can't do it, my kids won't,"
I briefly explain.
"So, there's this thing called google..."
"Yeah but I don't know how to google stuff, come on, I'm old,"
"I'm telling you how. You go to google, which is a website on the internet..."
"Yeah but I'm computer illiterate..."
"THEN GET LITERATE AND STOP ASKING ME TO HELP YOU! It's 2013! Computers aren't HARD anymore," I bellow in a high-voiced faux outage that cracked crystal in China. I can't remember what I exactly said, but for about a minute and a half I rambled about how I may not know the most about about cars but if I have a problem I look into it. If I need to make something, I learn how to make it.
"Hey, whatever happened to that girlfriend you had, that you brought over once? How'd that turn out?"
I don't know *what* she was thinking asking me that. When I posted about Great White Buffalos, I opted not to tell the story of one girl I had known simply because it was so convoluted, and messy, and awkward, that I couldn't possibly put it into words. But, safe to say, my neighbor had a hand in confirming my suspicion it would never happen.
"Oh, you mean the girl who had a boyfriend, that stayed here in Boston with me, and then during the course of the Superbowl you proceeded to ask over and over and over again why she wasn't dating me WHILE she was fighting with her BOYFRIEND over the phone? Yeah, we don't talk much anymore after you made her cry and feel like a terrible person,"
My neighbor slapped my arm.
"THAT'S MEAN"
Mom chirps in "What, you and <girl's name> don't chat anymore?"
Pzzzzzzt.
Text message. A girl I'd been talking to online is in the area and taking me up on an invite. An invite that was, apparently, news to me.But there it was, sent about an hour ago with my address and everything. I texted back, asking how long she was going to be.
Im in ur driveway. Come outside.
Well, shit. At this point any tangible sense of time and space and reality vanished. I now had to answer questions of why me and my 'best friend' didn't really talk anymore - a scabbed over wound I barely think about, explain that there was a different girl I had never met, and didn't really intend to invite over in the driveway, and The Patriots were about to mount a 4th quarter comeback drive.
"Hey guys I gotta go outside and meet this girl I'm just meeting,"
"Why don't we know about her?!" said my nemesis.
"Who is she?" said Mom.
"Well she's..."
"How come we never heard of her?!" came the neighbor.
"What's she like?" came Mom.
"How long have you known her?" came Dad.
It was an insane series of questions that I had absolutely zero chance of responding too, so I simply left. I go outside and meet this girl I had only seen in pictures. These situations are always awkward, awkwarder still when you didn't intend for them to happen, and are on drugs. She was cute. She wore a turquoise scarf, and a green shirt and coat.
I said she reminded me of the Emerald City from the Wizard of Oz. Smoooooove.
I invite her inside and following a clusterfuck of an introduction where every single person in the house talked over me while I tried to introduce this totally flabberghasted girl to my world.
She is then, literally, verbally, assaulted with tsnuami questions and comments and remarks from everyone in the house
here's an artist's interpretation:
hihowareyou?doyouwantachair?howlonghaveyouguysknowneachother?whereareyoufrom?doyouwantachair?ohyouhaveakidthatscooltheresomethingspecialaboutamotherandhersonright?
doyouwantachair?ohshesnothinglikethatothergirlyoubroughtover.doyouwantachair?doyouwantadrink?sowhatifyouredrivingjustonewontkillyoudoyoulikethepatriots?nowellifyouwannadatepaulyouhavetolovethepatriots.wereapatriotshousewelovethepatriots. youshouldkeepcomingoverwelikeyouithinkyoutwomakeacutecouple.soyouonlinedatehowdoidothatineedaman.
Finally after all that, it was quiet, and I was finally able to talk to her.
"So...you like to read?"
"I do!" She said.
and there they went again
OHilovetoread.paulsagreatreaderhewritesaboutstuffthatidontreallyunderstandbutitsgood.doyoulovehistory?ilovehistory.welostareyouapatsfan?ireallylovedthelastgirlpaulbroughtoverfromchicago.doyouwantachair?
"I SWEAR, NO ONE STANDING IN THIS ROOM WANTS A CHAIR, <Drunk Neighbor's Name>!"
Silence. For a fleeting moment I did a cost/benefit analysis of a murder suicide pact.
But instead, I invited the cute girl outside for a chat. She was actually really cool. friendly, smart, interested in education and childhood development, lived all over the world, had a big family, and was freaked out, but not upset.
I liked her. Eventually my two friends who were there (they were a couple), came out, and never in my life have I been so happy to have friends laugh at me. It was a most warm laugh. The kind of laugh you give to someone after they fell in a lake while trying to retrieve a football, or get brutually rejected by a hot girl.
They were laughing at me, but I was with them. We all chatted for a few, eventually my neighbor stumbled out onto the back porch and we all agreed to disperse. She either puked or spilled her drink as I walked the cute girl to her car, and my friends packed up their stuff. There was chaos I didn't see and only heard.
Walking the girl back to her car, coming down from my 0 miles traveled journey, and just casually apologizing and making light of the situation, She mentioned it was *not* her worst first meeting with an interested fellow, ever. I said I was offended and she laughed a genuine laugh for the first time that night. It wasn't nervous or trying to be nice - she just found that shit funny. I kissed her goodnight thanks in part to a general lack of shits to give, she kissed back (which upon sober reflection of our text messages she likely assumed was to be a hook up), and waved goodbye.
There's a sense of serenity that comes with the tail end of these sorts of nights. I took to my work computer, made some follow up calls to people all over the world, including India, Canada, and California, and found a peace in performing the jobly duties I typically hated. The entire day seemed like a disaster and being able to do something so mundane was welcome.
Getting lost on my way to a job interview, fighting with networking equipment, the Pats losing a game, inviting over a girl and forgetting she was coming, and a drunk neighbor I can't stand stressed me out so much where I was so beyond caring about anything, that everything was wonderful, I had that Jimmy Stewart smirk of "Oh gosh, well, whatever'.
Then I checked my e-mail at exactly 12:18am. The house was empty. The neighbor had left, my parents were sleeping, and I was alone, literally 18 minutes into a brand new day an 9 hours before I had to go into work for a 13 hour shift.
"Welcome aboard / Team Meeting" was the first e-mail in my inbox. This had been a wild day of opportunity, frustration, bad choices, good comebacks, embarrassing moments, good friends, terrible drunks, and a pretty girl I may very much like, and will hopefully see again roughly...4 hours after this post, but here was the highlight.
I had completely forgotten about a 5pm call I took. I got the job.
I'm now the managing editor of an actual website on the actual internet that makes actual money. Is it enough to quit the job I have now? The one I'm loyal too, but not passionate about? No. But it's money, it's creative, it's cool as shit, and I can't wait to work my fingers to the bone, just like I was two years and two months ago when I volunteered to work at Ebert Presents and was hired on full time about a month later.
I'd never had a day like this in my life. If this is how they turns out, I suppose a few more wouldn't hurt either.
"Then why would you invite the most bothersome person we *know* over?"
I am in rare form.
My neighbor's a boozer, a mess, and an excuse maker, and constantly looking for validation from subservient people who would rather placate her, than challenge anything she says or does - when they do she sours, says your mean, and changes the subject. Picture Fran Dreschers voice combined with a life of cigarettes, divorce, and disappointment, and you'll have a mind's eye picture.
Now she was coming over, again, to watch a game she didn't care about, again, to distract the entire family from the most important part of the game, again, while drunk, again, and would very likely seek advice from me, again, that she would completely brush off when I told her, again, the truth.
What's the most bizarre day of your *life*? Stressful, luckiest, strangest, craziest, it's all fair game. What's been your biggest blow up due in part to a stressful / bizarre day? (Read on to hear about mine - be warned it's long (like my Johnson).)
What she didn't know, and I haven't told *you* yet, is that I woke up at 9am that day, got lost in Boston for an hour after google's GPS confused the Boston Globe with the stupid Omni theater dome on the Museum of Science, had a job interview, may have accidentally parked in Tony Mazz's spot at The Boston Globe when I found it, was suckered into working from home on an off day, then because no one *told* anyone I was working from home, had to keep like three fellow employees from going home on time to assist with networking stuff. I was so stressed out that by the time the game rolled around I simply had no shits in my tummy left to give, and by the end of halftime my tummy was filled with sunshine.
But first, some background on my neighbor: One time she spent 45 minutes drunkenly quizzing me about all the various things her high-school aged flunkee of a son could do in the media.
"He likes sports! Like, sports!" she said.
I listed about half a dozen things her son could do with an interest in sports, from retail to volunteering at the local cable station to cover college basketball games, to saying he could help coach stuff for the YMCA or youth leagues.
"No, no, not like that - like, if you name a player, he can tell you what team they were on, like, where they went to school, what position they play, right away".
"Maybe he'll grow up to be a wikipedia page, then?"
"What's a wikipedia?" Came the response before she goes on to ask me about how 'online dating' works because she 'needs a man'. When I started to explain, she became bored with the complexities of writing about oneself - asked if I'd do it for her, and then changed the subject to how she intends to sue the guy who sold a car to her 'as is' because it didn't work, and yelled at her son for stealing cigarettes from her. You should never judge a person until you've walked a mile in their shoes. This woman's shoes are filled with enough dried bullshit to start bon fires for every pioneer on the Oregon trail.
She stumbled over, brought pretty good mini pumpkin pies then proceeded to force everyone to eat one. "You'll LOVE it, come on! Eat them! Before they get cold!"
She proceeded to ask me about a stupid freaking router she has that literally three people in my family have told her how to use. I refuse to do tech support for anyone I know personally because if something doesn't work at any point in the future, it's obviously going to be on me to fix it.
"So my sister has a router," This was not new information.
"The one you said you had two weeks ago?"
"Yeah,"
"Did that work out?"
"I don't have it yet,"
"So you don't remember anything I told you?"
(Note: explaining tech support, that thing I do for a living, during my free time, on drugs, is not fun)
"Can't you just come over tomorrow and do it?"
"I have to work from 11am to Midnight,"
"Well I can't do it, my kids won't,"
I briefly explain.
"So, there's this thing called google..."
"Yeah but I don't know how to google stuff, come on, I'm old,"
"I'm telling you how. You go to google, which is a website on the internet..."
"Yeah but I'm computer illiterate..."
"THEN GET LITERATE AND STOP ASKING ME TO HELP YOU! It's 2013! Computers aren't HARD anymore," I bellow in a high-voiced faux outage that cracked crystal in China. I can't remember what I exactly said, but for about a minute and a half I rambled about how I may not know the most about about cars but if I have a problem I look into it. If I need to make something, I learn how to make it.
"Hey, whatever happened to that girlfriend you had, that you brought over once? How'd that turn out?"
I don't know *what* she was thinking asking me that. When I posted about Great White Buffalos, I opted not to tell the story of one girl I had known simply because it was so convoluted, and messy, and awkward, that I couldn't possibly put it into words. But, safe to say, my neighbor had a hand in confirming my suspicion it would never happen.
"Oh, you mean the girl who had a boyfriend, that stayed here in Boston with me, and then during the course of the Superbowl you proceeded to ask over and over and over again why she wasn't dating me WHILE she was fighting with her BOYFRIEND over the phone? Yeah, we don't talk much anymore after you made her cry and feel like a terrible person,"
My neighbor slapped my arm.
"THAT'S MEAN"
Mom chirps in "What, you and <girl's name> don't chat anymore?"
Pzzzzzzt.
Text message. A girl I'd been talking to online is in the area and taking me up on an invite. An invite that was, apparently, news to me.But there it was, sent about an hour ago with my address and everything. I texted back, asking how long she was going to be.
Im in ur driveway. Come outside.
Well, shit. At this point any tangible sense of time and space and reality vanished. I now had to answer questions of why me and my 'best friend' didn't really talk anymore - a scabbed over wound I barely think about, explain that there was a different girl I had never met, and didn't really intend to invite over in the driveway, and The Patriots were about to mount a 4th quarter comeback drive.
"Hey guys I gotta go outside and meet this girl I'm just meeting,"
"Why don't we know about her?!" said my nemesis.
"Who is she?" said Mom.
"Well she's..."
"How come we never heard of her?!" came the neighbor.
"What's she like?" came Mom.
"How long have you known her?" came Dad.
It was an insane series of questions that I had absolutely zero chance of responding too, so I simply left. I go outside and meet this girl I had only seen in pictures. These situations are always awkward, awkwarder still when you didn't intend for them to happen, and are on drugs. She was cute. She wore a turquoise scarf, and a green shirt and coat.
I said she reminded me of the Emerald City from the Wizard of Oz. Smoooooove.
I invite her inside and following a clusterfuck of an introduction where every single person in the house talked over me while I tried to introduce this totally flabberghasted girl to my world.
She is then, literally, verbally, assaulted with tsnuami questions and comments and remarks from everyone in the house
here's an artist's interpretation:
hihowareyou?doyouwantachair?howlonghaveyouguysknowneachother?whereareyoufrom?doyouwantachair?ohyouhaveakidthatscooltheresomethingspecialaboutamotherandhersonright?
doyouwantachair?ohshesnothinglikethatothergirlyoubroughtover.doyouwantachair?doyouwantadrink?sowhatifyouredrivingjustonewontkillyoudoyoulikethepatriots?nowellifyouwannadatepaulyouhavetolovethepatriots.wereapatriotshousewelovethepatriots. youshouldkeepcomingoverwelikeyouithinkyoutwomakeacutecouple.soyouonlinedatehowdoidothatineedaman.
Finally after all that, it was quiet, and I was finally able to talk to her.
"So...you like to read?"
"I do!" She said.
and there they went again
OHilovetoread.paulsagreatreaderhewritesaboutstuffthatidontreallyunderstandbutitsgood.doyoulovehistory?ilovehistory.welostareyouapatsfan?ireallylovedthelastgirlpaulbroughtoverfromchicago.doyouwantachair?
"I SWEAR, NO ONE STANDING IN THIS ROOM WANTS A CHAIR, <Drunk Neighbor's Name>!"
Silence. For a fleeting moment I did a cost/benefit analysis of a murder suicide pact.
But instead, I invited the cute girl outside for a chat. She was actually really cool. friendly, smart, interested in education and childhood development, lived all over the world, had a big family, and was freaked out, but not upset.
I liked her. Eventually my two friends who were there (they were a couple), came out, and never in my life have I been so happy to have friends laugh at me. It was a most warm laugh. The kind of laugh you give to someone after they fell in a lake while trying to retrieve a football, or get brutually rejected by a hot girl.
They were laughing at me, but I was with them. We all chatted for a few, eventually my neighbor stumbled out onto the back porch and we all agreed to disperse. She either puked or spilled her drink as I walked the cute girl to her car, and my friends packed up their stuff. There was chaos I didn't see and only heard.
Walking the girl back to her car, coming down from my 0 miles traveled journey, and just casually apologizing and making light of the situation, She mentioned it was *not* her worst first meeting with an interested fellow, ever. I said I was offended and she laughed a genuine laugh for the first time that night. It wasn't nervous or trying to be nice - she just found that shit funny. I kissed her goodnight thanks in part to a general lack of shits to give, she kissed back (which upon sober reflection of our text messages she likely assumed was to be a hook up), and waved goodbye.
There's a sense of serenity that comes with the tail end of these sorts of nights. I took to my work computer, made some follow up calls to people all over the world, including India, Canada, and California, and found a peace in performing the jobly duties I typically hated. The entire day seemed like a disaster and being able to do something so mundane was welcome.
Getting lost on my way to a job interview, fighting with networking equipment, the Pats losing a game, inviting over a girl and forgetting she was coming, and a drunk neighbor I can't stand stressed me out so much where I was so beyond caring about anything, that everything was wonderful, I had that Jimmy Stewart smirk of "Oh gosh, well, whatever'.
Then I checked my e-mail at exactly 12:18am. The house was empty. The neighbor had left, my parents were sleeping, and I was alone, literally 18 minutes into a brand new day an 9 hours before I had to go into work for a 13 hour shift.
"Welcome aboard / Team Meeting" was the first e-mail in my inbox. This had been a wild day of opportunity, frustration, bad choices, good comebacks, embarrassing moments, good friends, terrible drunks, and a pretty girl I may very much like, and will hopefully see again roughly...4 hours after this post, but here was the highlight.
I had completely forgotten about a 5pm call I took. I got the job.
I'm now the managing editor of an actual website on the actual internet that makes actual money. Is it enough to quit the job I have now? The one I'm loyal too, but not passionate about? No. But it's money, it's creative, it's cool as shit, and I can't wait to work my fingers to the bone, just like I was two years and two months ago when I volunteered to work at Ebert Presents and was hired on full time about a month later.
I'd never had a day like this in my life. If this is how they turns out, I suppose a few more wouldn't hurt either.
Why does this John Corrigan have a random Temple University email address that doesn't even match his initials?
ReplyDeleteI don't know if this would count as any of the topics that you said but I do have a few stories that revolve around Disney theme parks. For a bizarre day, it was when I found out that they were adding the film characters to the POTC ride from 3 different sources. I will continue the story later.
ReplyDeleteGrab your Mighty Ducks Starter jacket and Surge cola - it's time once again for a dwindling group of wrestling fans to not let the 90's stay dead.
ReplyDeleteMy most vibrant Disney memory is getting stuck on the Epcot ride after a woman in a wheel chair screwed up the dismount from wheelchair to ride.
ReplyDeleteI was at the papyrus portion of the ride and kept hearing over and over and over and over again that it was the first form of paper. I was in 3rd grade.
I'm gonna stay out of the crazy stuff (Hi NSA) and just go with the luckiest...One day in undergrad I went with a buddy for an overnight AC trip. The key to going to AC when you're a poor college kid is to never ever bring a debit card, just the cash you intend to spend. This can backfire if you lose all your money, I once drove back with two friends and we were literally scraping sticky pennies and nickles out from underneath the seats of my car to pay the tolls after having to steal whoppers from a rest stop by sticking them in our pants...
ReplyDeleteI go down to AC with 500 bucks in cash and sit down at a 1-2 NL table. Buy in for 250 bucks and immediately get crushed, lose set over set, flipped Q high flush to nut flysh, etc. We decide to go to take a break from gambling and go to a bar, my buddy finds a chick and they take off for a few hours...bores I decide to enter a big poker tourney to kill time. Buy in was 200 bucks, I have 208 bucks on me. To make a long story short, 8 hours later I win the tournament and make almost 8900. I hate playing long poker tourneys and only played bc my buddy was off hooking up. Thank you AC sluts
Hahahaha nice. That's awesome. I figure with the NSA they're focused more on things like terrorism and such...I think the rule is they're only really allowed to 'act' in the vent of a possible dangerous act.
ReplyDeleteI'm back, so anyway, one day I see online that the Pirates ride was going to add the film characters to it, later that day, I get more info about it in a magazine and then at night while watching Disney Channel, I saw the real thing.
ReplyDeleteFor a crazy story, I thought of something better although the other Disney story consisted of me getting pooped on by a bird multiple times. When I was younger, I would go with my dad on these trips to play grade school basketball. He was the couch of a 7-8th grade team and when they kept winning, they would go to out of town even out of state tournaments. On the trips the kids would cause soo much havoc. Man the crazy stuff I saw... Destruction of rooms, kids beating up each other with nerf balls, sandwiches, and kids dangling kids over stair wells in the hopes to find missing shoes.
Yea, I don't think the nsa would give a shit about me...just don't feel comfortable about pulling all my skeletons out of the closet.
ReplyDeletePinball is awesome.
ReplyDeleteThat's really all I have to contribute here.
Yeah I kind of went off the reservation a bit. It'd been a long week.
ReplyDeleteI love me some poker, but I'm not big enough into it to wanna win big money, but not really into the free side of it either. Why must online poker be illegal! Why! Why!
ReplyDeleteBecause Temple doesn't assign e-mail addresses based on initials. The tu obviously stands for the university's initials while the rest is a random string assigned based on when you enroll. I'm also a Temple student and have the same sort of e-mail, although mine is much farther along because I only started at the university recently.
ReplyDeleteI also like the clever title.
ReplyDeleteIt could be as equally addictive as a slot machine.
ReplyDeleteToday was a pretty stressful/lucky/strange/crazy day. I got an offer to change companies, make like 12k more a year and...relocate to Buttshit, Wyoming. Seriously a town of about 8,000 people.
ReplyDeleteSo I'm a bag of mixed emotions. It's just me so I can pick up and do whatever but I have a ton of lifelong friends here and they all have kids now and it's fun. I wouldn't know anyone in Buttshit and the closest "city" (of 162,000) is more than an hour away. The only plus I can think of is that I love camping and hiking and skiing so in the summer months there will be lots of chances to meet people doing that as I'd only be an hour away from Yellowstone. Also that's a lot of fucking money, I'm alone I can make 12k do a lot of crazy/fun things, and Buttshit is only 13 hours from where my whole world exists so I could make lots of four or five day trips home once the job gets settled and I can do most of it from a laptop.
I don't know, it's a lot to consider and I have to make up my mind by Thursday so I feel like I'm sort of in a pressure cooker at the moment.
That's a tough one. Did you have a first instinct upon getting the offer?
ReplyDeleteA thank you.
ReplyDeleteI'm trying to get my boss to buy a pinball machine. He likes the idea and knows it will make money, we just don't really have anywhere to put it.
ReplyDelete13 hours? By car? So then probably 4 hours by plane or so (including the hour it would take to get to Cheyenne)? I'd probably do it, then again I don't know how much you make to begin with. An extra 12k a year would be huge for me, as far as I know to you 12k might just be extra "fun money" for you.
ReplyDeleteHere's something bizarre that happened to me today: I get to work, punch in and get set up and shit, I go to blow my nose because it's running from walking up there in cold (despite being the BoD resident gearhead I rarely actually drive) and when I do it I get the worst nosebleed ever. I mean, I was pouring blood, my apron looked like I was at .8 Muta. It's actually not that bizarre I guess, I always get nosebleeds this time of year because my body has a tough time adjusting to the change from nice fresh air to dirty dry recycled furnace air and it dires up my nasal passages so bad they crack and bleed a little, but the amount of blood (thanks to my medication) was just astounding, and this was the first time I can recall it ever happening in public. Freaked me the fuck out, I was totally off my game for the whole night.
ReplyDeleteToday I hunted for and killed Bigfoot.
ReplyDeleteThen got my fat hog sucked.
On an unannounced Philly TV station Tuesdays at 10 pm. I question the veracity of this.
ReplyDeleteDon't do it. In life, there's more equity in enjoying your time spent where you want to be than 12K a year. If you want 12K more per year, learn how to save it. Traveling to and fro is not a way to live.
ReplyDeleteNow lick my teeth, they're dryyyyy
I was on the Indiana Jones ride at Disneyland and it broke down, sticking us there. A guy came to get us right away and walked us all the way to the end, which was WAY cooler and more memorable than actually riding the ride in the first place! How many people ever get to see the inside of a ride like that?
ReplyDeleteThis basically happened to me a couple of weeks ago. The temperature from morning to midday practically doubled and blood was hitting my shirt and the driver's side seat before it was touching my chin. I pulled over and washed myself of with my thermos of water so that I was halfway presentable.
ReplyDeleteNot to go off on a tangent, but one of my workmates recently busted his head open by slamming his van's rear door precisely on the hairline. Instead of calling it a day, he decided he just had to pick up one more client's documents with a balled up rag and white shirt soaked in blood. Needless to say, they were horrified yet impressed at the same time.
Up his fuckin' ass, I'd tell him.
ReplyDeleteBosses, am I right?
Hey, congrats on the job! That's awesome!
ReplyDeleteI stopped having days like that when I moved in with my girlfriend, since the most crazy-ass days for me usually involved strange women, booze and a loss of any and all inhibitions. Of course, all the booze I drank from about 2001-2007 has left the details of most of those nights a little hazy as well.
Also, people who refuse to learn anything about technology, and who wear that fact like a badge instead of being ashamed of it, annoy the piss out of me. Every day at my office, I have to talk someone through something as simple as sending an email because these people refuse to learn common things that millions of people do every day. It just really gets on my nerves.
You live in Orlando?
ReplyDeleteI'd do it, but not for the extra money. A change of scenery is a great thing sometimes. Also, you said you loved camping/etc. You might find that grow to be an even bigger part of your life and meet some amazing new people along the way. You'll be far away from what's familiar, but it's fun to carve out a life in a brand new place. Sort of an excuse to start over. And if you really don't like it after a while, you'll have a decent chunk of money saved up that will help making moving back and finding a job again easier.
ReplyDeleteI keep a few cotton balls in my go bag because I've had nosebleeds at inopportune times before and cotton balls clog those nostrils up better than anything.
ReplyDeleteMy initial thought was to bounce until I started doing some research into how small the town really is.
ReplyDeleteYeah, Billings not Cheyenne but same difference. I only make about 28 a year so another 12 will definitely change my circumstances. I have a pretty good life set up for myself now, $12,000 more a year would basically get funneled directly into my "gotta see every baseball stadium in the league" obsession.
ReplyDeleteBut yeah I checked it out last night, I could fly home round trip for about $280, gas/snacks/beer for a round trip drive would be at least $200. I've also got a friend who works for Alaska that could probably hook it up now and again.
You're the second person in six months to get it. (Though I think his name was actually Gresto I'm too lazy to change it now)
ReplyDeleteYeah I'm really starting to lean that way, even just a year or two out there by myself would give me an opportunity to really save up. And yeah, the crappy little town is not even a pinky finger away from Yellowstone on the map, my telescope and I could really build a healthy loving relationship out there this summer I think.
ReplyDelete1) As soon as that girl showed up why the fuck wouldn't you get out of there? Take her to a bar or restaurant. She drove all the way to your place for some kind of online booty call...and you immediately introduce her to your parents...wtf? Dude just my two cents but if you had played it cool you probably could have fucked.
ReplyDelete2)Who watches football with their parents? That would fucking suck. And why even waste time getting into a back and forth with that cunt neighbor? Just tell her you'll help her tomorrow, and then just blow it off.
I don't know where you live now, but an extra thousand a month to live in a complete shit hole like Wyoming doesn't seem that sweet.
ReplyDeleteAlso, rather than going back to visit friends, invite them out to visit you. I live in Boston and have lots of friends scattered around New England and New York. They know they can always crash with me if they are coming into town, and as a result I end up seeing a lot of them a couple times per year. Maybe being near Yellowstone isn't as much of a draw, but at least a few of your friends might take you up on an open invitation.
ReplyDelete"Now lick my teeth, they're dryyyyy." Would be the best wrestling catch phrase...ever. The disgust by the audience would be phenomenal.
ReplyDeleteDude, I'm a "mover". Lived 3 different places in the past 9 years. I always look at it as "i can always move back if I don't like this place." I guess it just depends on your situtation...If an extra 12 a year could help you out financially, I'd say fuck it and do it. That's just me tho. Tough call
ReplyDeleteI kind of live in a shit hole now is the problem. The only difference is proximity to something cool (Seattle's 150 miles away) whereas in Buttshit it would be more like 400 miles to the nearest actual city of import.
ReplyDeleteNumber 1 was just tremendous.
ReplyDeleteSmall town can be brutal. I made one big move in my life from a small / medium town to a bigger city and the difference in the people was palpable. If you are at all liberal or free thinking avoid small towns.
ReplyDeleteThis might not be the craziest but it's the most recent I can remember - a while ago me and my bro were discussing some kid we kinda knew and hadn't seen in 10 years and wondered where he was at. Days later I'm trying to find my way around Soho and ask some random dude standing there to give me directions... it was the fucking guy! We both said "do i know you?" at the same time but I stopped just short of saying I was discussing him days earlier, that might've been weird. Pretty crazy coincidence though.
ReplyDeleteYeah, I'd do it.
ReplyDeleteI was not all there, sir.
ReplyDeleteBy dead Bigfoot?
ReplyDeleteI've lived in seven different places in the last 11 years, in 10 different apartments.
ReplyDeleteI've spent the majority of my post-college career living in/working in small towns, but they were always a lot closer to a public hub or a bigger city. Honestly, as long as there are things to do, places to go and people to see, it's not that bad. Plus, living like a king with the extra $12K could be nice.
ReplyDeleteIt doesn't really hurt to consider doing it for a year and if/when you're ready to move back, you can command a lot more money because of your salary history.
I wish.
ReplyDeleteWhich Patriots game was it? The SNF 49ers game?
ReplyDeleteI think that was implied.
ReplyDeleteThe idea of ranking your nosebleed on the Muta scale cracks me up.
ReplyDeleteHa! I once lived in 7 different places in one calendar year! I'm more transient than alllllll ya'll!
ReplyDeleteI've ben pretty stable lately though. Four places in the past 8 years and now I own so probably be here a little while.
I can't think of any other way to describe it.
ReplyDeleteYeah my. drunk ass just sent the email saying I would so, yeah lol.
ReplyDeleteGood for you... Get that money, man!
ReplyDeleteHaha, yeah I know it's just the closest city featuring an airport. There aren't really borders out in Buttshit as far as I can tell.
ReplyDeleteI believe it was Marv Gresto.
ReplyDeleteI'm more of a Ken Fresno man, myself.
Holy Jesus did you see Jim's appearance on Celebrity Ghost Stories?! He completely torpedoes the appearance by telling the story of the Ghost of Edgar. So money.
ReplyDeleteBetter idea: Pinchinko machine above the urinal.
ReplyDeleteNo, then people would be writing Fight Club movie quotes and drawing swastikas (I assume it's just one guy going that, ignorant fucking asshole...) on the machine instead of on the wall.
ReplyDeleteWhy would watching football with your parents suck? I used to watch football with my old man all the time.
ReplyDelete