Archive for November, 2009:
Reminiscing Scents
Reminiscing Scents
Thought up: 5.4.02 – 10:15am
Written: 5.10.02 – 3:15am
#7
When I was 17, I had my first girlfriend. We spent most days together, just even sitting around and watching T.V. sometimes. Not really having an idea of where we were going, or what we were going to do. I met her in the summer of ’96 and I knew that she was going to leave in August because her mother was marrying a nice guy from Caldwell, Idaho. The thing I remembered the most about her was the smell of her hair, I can’t describe it, but I would remember if I smelled it again. Anyway, every time I’d pass someone that used that scent, I’d say, “Hey, I remember that smell.”
Well, when I graduated high school, I made a few visits to her house during the year because it wasn’t that far from Walla Walla, WA, to Caldwell, ID. It was only 200 miles, and I had myself an ‘86 Dodge Aries. It wasn’t a gem to look at, but it got me from point A to point B each time I asked it to. It was reliable, until my sister drove it into a tree a few years later (totally beside the point, but I still think I got stuck when she got a new car out of it, and I was left with nothing). But while it was in its prime, I made that trip a good handful of times.
About 15 miles out of Caldwell, Idaho, it really starts to smell like horse and cow feces. I’d usually get there around 6 pm, right when it was starting to get ripe. At first I didn’t mind it. It would permeate around her house, and in her house, through the air conditioner and in the outhouse (ok, there was no outhouse, but I bet if she did have one it would smell). I got used to it.
So every trip I’d know that I was close when I could smell that sweet aroma. I got to thinking one day, I don’t really remember her for the shampoo. I remember her for the smell of cow poop. Maybe that poop was trying to tell me something – warning me of what was to come. If only I’d have listened to that poop. But I didn’t. Maybe it’s that “love is blind”, but I think mostly I didn’t listen to it because hey, everyone knows that poop usually can’t talk…
I heard of being thick headed before, but holy crap…
This lady got shot between the eyes and the bullet didn’t make it through her skull…
Flash Dance Should Not Be Done In A Microsoft Store
…They don’t even notice the girl in white pocketing something at 2:14. Also, the flashdance shouldn’t be so lame.
Dance Party Friday
First saw this on Media Morgue and thought it was awesome. There are many more to come. Cincinnati news has a good thing going.
Tags: dance party
Politics
We here in Montana have been getting an unusually high amount of politcal attention the last couple weeks. With that I bring you a love song by the Montana band The Clintons.
Speed Checked by Radar
Speed Checked by Radar
Thought up: 4.23.02 – 1:36am
Written: 4.27.02 – 9:27am
#5
I’m gonna take some time to analyze the sign we see on the roads ALL over every state: “Speed Checked by Radar.” As opposed to…? How else would you track the speed of a car? What kind of idiot decided to make this sign? What a splendid way to waste money in state government! I’ve thought of a couple of other ways to combat this “Speed Checked by Radar” (SCBR) dilemma. I propose, for the sake of taking down all those signs across the nation, to have speed checked by other means.
Option 1: There could be like 326 or 471 frozen goat heads randomly placed in the middle of highways and interstates. These heads will be set on 3-foot tall glass shafts. The SCBR signs will be replaced by Speed Checked by Flying Goatheads (SCBFG) signs. When the car runs into this goat head, (these goat heads will be very well camouflaged to dissuade people from missing them on purpose) it gets whacked a certain distance. And that’s where the state workers come in. State workers will be placed at 300-foot intervals along every major highway and interstate where the goat heads on glass shafts are erected. (Don’t worry, they don’t have REAL work to do anyway, might as well have them do something useful.) So when the goat head gets hit, a state worker will run out and see how far the goat head flew thus calculating the speed the driver must have been driving to hit it that far. Anyway, put like a good 357+ of them around various locales where these goat signs reside. When a perpetrator flies by the sign and thinks to himself/herself,
Himself/Herself: “Gee Self, my speed is being checked by radar. Should I slow down? (2 second pause to think about it.) Hell no! Radars only live on police cars, and there are no police cars within sight, so that sign is a waste of everyone’s money! Boy, I’m sure showing those radar-sign-making people a thing or two.”
And before they know it, WHAM, a goat head is splatted onto their car. And then I bet they’ll be the ones feeling sheepish… Get it, sheepish – wink, wink, nudge nudge.
Option 2: This might make animal activists a little angrier, but it would provide a different means of checking speeds on major roadways. We’re going to need a snail, a turtle, a boa constrictor, a mouse, a duck, a 3-legged cat, a dog that just got spun around like 15 or 16 times, an elephant, and a cheetah (might be hard to get a cheetah, so maybe a track with a toy train on it that can go 80 mph. I could make a suit that looks like a cheetah, or I guess a person could just ride the train with my cheetah costume I wore for Halloween).
Anyway, we’d line these animals up at random locations along the highway and as a car would shoot by, a race would begin. The animals would start running when the car passes them, and they’d race for 100 yards. Wherever this car finishes in the 100-yard race in comparison to the animals would give a relatively close estimate as to the speed of the car. True, the animals may become tired, but it’s all for the sake of sign preservation. And besides, who wouldn’t want to be driving along a highway, and look out their window and see a boa constrictor racing against them…
Surprise Party
This SNL skit was wonderful. Kristen Wiig is definitely the funniest cast member they have right now.
Are We There Yet?
Are We There Yet?
Thought up: 4.29.02 – 11:41am
Written: 4.30.02 – 1:27pm
#6
When I was young my family used to go on vacations. We didn’t have a lot of money, so our vacations would usually include one or more of the following:
1.) Sleeping in the car as opposed to a hotel or campground.
2.) Not really going anywhere, but more just driving around for 2 days, and stopping at rest areas and monuments and such.
3.) “Vacationing” to gramma’s house.
4.) Eating the 45 Shasta-smashed-bologna sandwiches packed in a hand me down green cooler in the trunk of our beautiful, spacious, stealthy 1989 LTD Crown Victoria. (By “stealthy” I mean stealthy like a hippopotamus on fire.)
5.) Me getting beat up by my parents for beating up my sister because I couldn’t beat up my brother, who had just beaten me up… yea, I got beat up a lot. It was a lose-lose situation, but I guess I never quite figured that one out.
When you’re a kid, you always want to be able to know where you are, when you’re getting to where you’re going, and when you could just stop and get out of the car. Well, for years, as every kid does, we’d ask, “Are we there yet?” And for years, my dad would always use the reply,
“Almost, just a few more miles.”
Isn’t that what he’s supposed to say? That’s what they always say, but we’d always just come back 5 minutes later,
“Are we there yet?”
Until apparently one day my old man got to thinking about it, he was ready for us to ask the inevitable question.
“Are we there yet?”
He looked back in that rearview mirror, raised up one eyebrow, smiled to show all of his off-white teeth, (kinda like that Grinch, when he finally realizes he could steal Christmas away from all the Whos in Whoville, and he starts to rub his hands in a circle, like when one dries their hands under one of those automatic dryers in McDonalds…) and said, much to our disbelief,
”Yup. We’re just looking for a parking place.”
Uhhhhh, what does a kid say to that? Because technically we ARE there, because he said so. And in our family, for all we knew, the vacation COULD lead to this very location on the highway. So for at least the next 3 or 4 trips, we had no clue how to respond to that one. We’d just gaze out the window and look for something that we might stop at, never really knowing where we’d stop. Boy, kids sure are dumb. I hope I never become one…
