Thursday, March 30, 2006

Just When You'd Just About Given Up On Me . . . . . .

That's right, I'm back. I still have a bunch of irons in the fire so I don't know how dedicated I'll be for awhile, but I'm still here anyway.

So much has happened in the last few weeks that there's no way in hell that I can enumerate it all here, nor would I particularly care to, but it basically boils down to Justin spending a little more time with family and friends, mostly outside, and not spending quite so much time sitting in front of a keyboard as a result.

I don't have a heck of a lot of time right at the moment, (lot of that going around lately), but expect a full blown post within the next couple days. There's been a lot circulating around in this big piece of meat between my ears lately, and I hope to find time to slam some of it onto the screen. If anybody still reads this thing besides the all of the people that keep finding me by doing Google searches for methamphetamine recipes I'll be surprised, but hey, stranger things have happened.

Peace, love, sunshine, lollipops, rainbows, and all that flowery shit out to all of you, stay tuned.

Friday, March 17, 2006

Happy St. Patrick's Day

May you all find the pot at the end of the rainbow.

Monday, March 13, 2006

I Guess I Need A Break

Try as I may I just can't seem to muster up the desire to write about anything. A recent death in the family has been occupying most of my thoughts for the last few days, as well as couple of other family members that are battling serious medical conditions of their own. I apologize for my recent, unannounced 2 week hiatus, but I'm afraid that I'll be forced to extend it a little longer. It's just that it's difficult to have fun and write about it when one's mind is full of worry and grief. I'll be back to normal soon enough I'm sure. After all, my readers depend on me . . . both of them.

Tony, I hope all is well with you and the family, and I was glad to hear that you arrived safely. Take care, and keep in touch.

Saturday, March 11, 2006

Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, I'm Still Alive

Just been a little busy with other things since I've been back. Stay tuned until I get time to write about something, or whatever. Until then enjoy the pretty palm trees, hey I thought they were neat, I'd never seen one before. Simple minds, simple pleasures.

Thursday, March 02, 2006

I Had An Idea That Reality TV Sucked . . . .

but I guess I just had to prove it to myself. This evening I did something for the first time in my life, I watched an entire episode of Survivor. Yeehaw, that's an hour of my life that I'll never get back. I apologize if I'm unable to string sentences together in the future since I'm positive that I lost at least 15 IQ points having watched that hefty dose of mind rot. And these shows pull in top level ratings? I guess that explains why no one from the ratings companies have ever called me. What I'm still trying to figure out however, is what the heck this show has to do with survival? It seems to have a lot more to do with politics if you ask me, whoever can BS the rest of the group the best is the one that sticks around and wins the cash. To hell with whether or not the person actually knows anything about how to survive.

Put me on that show, I'll walk around belching and farting up a storm and telling the smart ass little punks to go to hell, take their tribal alliances and run them up their behinds. They'll be jumping through hoops and doing parlor tricks for rice and beans and all the while I'll be building a log cabin and eating fresh seafood every night. They may vote me off right away, but at least I'll be comfortable while they're starving and acting like idiots on a quest for cash and fame. Chances are they'll be wanting to crash on my living room floor and scam themselves a few of my cast off crab legs. I'll boobytrap the shit out of the place too, let's see 'em vote me off and try to take over my digs then. Shad, the attorney from New York City, doesn't know how to make explosives and Malayan man traps, I do. Lotsa luck sucka.

Here's my idea: Six islands with similar resources, six morons from all walks of life. Each person gets a small selection of items, everyone gets the same stuff. Maybe some rope, a plastic tarp, a hatchet, a knife, personal hygiene items like a toothbrush and some soap, just the bare essentials. Maybe give them each a few days supply of water too. Then comes the twist, each person gets to pick a few items to take along of their own, say three things. Put each person on an island all by themselves with a camera and instructions on how to use it. Hide a few cameras in treetops and stuff too. The last one to say uncle wins. Total isolation, no bullshit, no immunity, no tribal council, just survival. Last one standing takes home the cash. I'll sign up for that one.

Speaking of jumping through hoops and looking like an idiot, I regret to inform you all that there won't be any biodiesel experiments this weekend. I know you're all disappointed, but my gracious employer feels that my weekend would be better spent in California getting smoke blown up my pantleg by a bunch of corporate bigwig types. Myself, not being the hoop jumping type, will be lucky to still be employed when I return but I'll do my best to keep my big mouth shut, as long as they don't try to make me do the Wal-Mart cheer, I was looking for a job when I found this one.

They call it "New Employee Orientation", since I've been an employee of this company for six months now and I'm working in an industry that I've been involved in since birth, (actually I'm the third generation), I tend to think that I'm already oriented quite well and need no further orienting, but they seem to disagree. I figure that if they want to orient me they should come here and do it, I'm not the dumbass that decided to put the corporate HQ in California, and I have no desire whatsoever to go there. Since I have to go there anyway, I'd really like to sneak off to West Coast Choppers and sniff around a little, but from what I've been told it's not a vacation, they don't give you any time to do anything except listen to your prescribed dose of propaganda, sounds more like "New Employee Brainwashing" if you ask me. Oh well, they're footing the bill and putting me up in a fancy hotel and stuffing me full of high dollar food so what the heck, we'll see what happens. Luckily I've never been exactly what you'd call impressionable, if they like banging their heads against a wall, go for it.

The big thing that pisses me off, is that I was really hoping to be able to live my entire life without ever having the experience of being crammed into a tin sardine can and blasted through the sky at 600 MPH, especially when said sardine can is scheduled to land in California, not exactly the place this backwoods hillbilly wants to be. Oh well, maybe when them Hollywood types see how damn good looking I am they'll make me a movie star, we'll see. Don't worry, I'll still appreciate all you scumbags when you're paying ten bucks a pop to come and watch me make out with Angelina Jolie on the big screen, I'll even give you my autograph for free. At least you'll all live with the knowledge that "you knew me when". I'm just kidding, you're not scumbags, and my wife would kill me if I made out with Angelina Jolie, Keira Knightly however . . . . . . surely she'd understand . . . . . . wouldn't she?

Well there you have it, my first episode of Survivor, my first trip on a commercial airline, and my first time setting foot in California, and don't forget my first batch of biodiesel from last week. A whole batch of firsts and you all get to watch . . . . . perverts. I'll be sure to take lots of pics while I'm gone so I'll have something to show you when I get back. Well . . . . . . as long as the plane doesn't crash anyway . . . . . gulp. Should I somehow miraculously survive this perilous journey, escape a fiery death in a tragic plane crash, dodge bullets from drive by shootings, not get mugged stabbed and left for dead in some LA backstreet, or suffocate under a pile of rubble after a record breaking earthquake, I'll be back next week with a full account of the whole debacle, or at least the parts that aren't "priveledged company information".

Is California really going to fall into the ocean someday like my mom told me when I was a kid? She was just joshing me right? . . . . . Wasn't she? . . . . . . gulp.