Behaviors@Baseline

2013-01-12T11:29:00.000-08:00

Vacation Hard! Episode 12: "O! say does that Star-Spangled Banner yet wave...."

We finish up breakfast and go topside, making our way out to the street where the Grey Line bus tour would be by any minute. They do a "hop on, hop off" style tour with the double decker buses that stop at 20 minute intervals at each station which makes for an awesome way to see D.C. in a short amount of time. Being a total 8 year old, I have to be on the top deck when the bus gets moving, but quickly learn that being a tall person on the top deck isn't all it's cut out to be after I got hit in the face with a tree branch for the third time while trying to take pictures. The Marx Brothers and Three Stooges made a fortune off of comedy like that. For me, it's just another 'vacation'.

We had decided to stay on the bus the entire tour and get off at the National Museum of American History. Being the history lover I am, I thought I was ready.........then I walked in and nerded all over the floor.

Reader......this is something that you really have to see for yourself. The Smithsonian Institution is amazing and we, as United States citizens, reap the benefit of it's awesomeness. These buildings (the main buildings surround the National Mall in D.C.) house some of the most amazing stuff. Some of the stuff you can see at the National Museum of American History include personal belongings of many U.S. presidents including George Washington's sword, Abe Linclon's hat, and inagural gowns of the first ladies, the original Muppets, Archie Bunker's chair, Eddie Van Halen's original "Frankenstrat", Stratavarius instruments, parts of the Berlin Wall and the World Trade Center.

From the World Trade Center wreckage

Part of the Berlin wall.

Abe's hat!

It's time to play the music.......it's time to light the lights......it's time to meet the Muppets......

ARRRRCHIE!

Click here to check it out!

And the most amazing thing ever: the actual American flag that flew during the Battle of Baltimore in the war of 1812. The one that Fracis Scott Key wrote about in his poem "Defence of Fort McHenry" which would later be known as "The Star-Spangled Banner" and become our national anthem. Go see that in person and see if it doesn't nudge your patriot button just a little. It's very fragile and photosensitive, however, so they don't allow pictures to be taken. I didn't mind because it's not something I will soon forget.

Words can not describe how incredible the Smithsonian Institution is and how much gratitude it deserves. To my American Readers: you owe it to yourself and those who came before you as the builders of our nation to see as much as you can of what the Smithsonian has to offer. I know that may sound a little sappy, but it's the damn truth. To my foreign readers: if you get the chance, please come see our amazingly preserved history, because if I ever get the chance, I'll be nerding out from HERE to HERE to HERE. Believe it.

So we're about to leave the museum and I realize that they have one of the actual C-3P0 suits they used in Star Wars that I'm in dire need of seeing. We go over to one of the info desks and my Dad loudy proclaims: "My son wants to see some Star Wars shit." Shoulda said "My 34 year old man-child can't let go of silly things and get on with his sad life, so he has to see this robot thing he's been nerding about since he was 5."

Let me pause here and harken some of you to some understanding: I know I speak for a great many people when I say Star Wars is in my heart. There are many things that will always be endearing to me, like the "Lisenced to Ill" album by the Beastie Boys (the first record I ever owned) and the old 70's stand-up, Bill Cosby: Himself, which I can recite to you by heart cause I've been watching that shit since I was little...... "WHERE DID THEY GET CHOCOLATE CAKE FROM?!" Freaking classic. I think we actually had Star Wars, Indiana Jones, and Bill Cosby: Himself on the same Betamax tape. That's right. I said Betamax.

http://www.icomedytv.com/Comedy-Videos/ID/975/Bill-Cosby-Chocolate-cake-with-transcript-0927.aspx

But Star Wars? I still watch every Yoda scene twice (like when he walked in to save Obi-Wan and Anakin from Count Dooku and all you could see at first was his little shadow limping through the doorway?! LOVE. THAT. SHIT.) Or when, as a child, you find out that Darth Vader is actually Luke Skywalker's father?! Whhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaa?!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZbV5hn_ET0U

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0gDh6EPkPcU

Even if you're not a Star Wars fan, the dynamic between C-3PO and R2-D2 is funny and something that will always be remembered by people who don't get Star Wars. Even Larry remembered one day when I was talking about movies I loved to watch over and over when I was little: "Oh, you mean the movie with the pot belly stove robot?" - Yup. That's the one. R2-D2 was pretty gangsta.

So we get down to the main part of the building and see it and I snap this little gem:

Never let it be said that my Dad didn't care about foolish little things that make a grown ass man-child just a little bit happier.

From the main floor of our hotel

On the next episode of Vacation Hard!: Where's the beef? It's in my mouth!!!.............whoa.........wait........that's not right.

Vacation Hard!: En Fuego!!.......

2012-04-17T11:19:00.000-07:00

Irma starts knocking on the bathroom door, where I am sitting in peace, and hollers "There's a fire, Danny!". "Nuh-UH!", I want to holler back, but I don't. Just because my internal monologue filter is broken doesn't mean Larry won't whip my ass for being a jerk to his lady. I drag my bones up to get dressed and lurch out. Grab my shoes and socks and out we go.

Out in the hall I notice the lack of smoke odor. "There ain't no fire in here. Can we just go back into the room and hide?", I ask my Dad. "I think you're right, but lets just do what we're supposed to", he says, so we file down to the stairwell with the other 12th floor guests.

I plop down in front of the stairwell door to put my shoes and socks on and tell my Dad to go ahead and I'd catch up. He decides instead to go back to the room and double check that we had all major valuables, but didn't tell me that when he walked off. So I got my shoes on and waited about 3 minutes when a guy from the hotel came by and said we should go. Now, if I had any inkling that there was actually a fire, I would have waited for Dad, but I've been in a couple building fires before and this building was not on fire, so I left.

Down the stairs we went. The hotel guy followed right behind me and I'd stop every now and then and look up and listen to see if Dad was coming and he'd stop and ask if I was ok. "Yup, just waiting for someone". At one point he told me "You're almost there! You're doing good." like I was 5 years old.

At the bottom of the stairs, I'm freaking out a little. I never heard Larry behind me or even the sound of a door opening, so I was thinking he was being a smart ass and decided to stay in the room after all.

I turn to the hotel guy and ask "Did you see a guy come in behind us from the 12th floor? Did you hear anyone behind us on the stairs?".

"No", he says.

"Did you go through and knock on the doors to make sure everyone was out?".

"No, why would I do that?"

I look at this dick like he was from Mars: "Don't you think the hotel would want you to make sure it's guests are safe?".

"I don't work for the hotel, man."

This guy was wearing a pair of khakis and a black polo shirt and a hat with matching logos, so I assumed he was a hotel worker, but he was actually a roofer or carpenter or something when I looked closer, probably in for a convention or something . Shithead was telling me "We better go" and acting like a concerned employee of the hotel.

Even though it was a little irrational, I was pissed. I should have gone and checked to make sure Dad was coming, instead I'm being herded by this "Samaritan" asshole who probably thinks he was doing a good deed by "helping" a fat dude down some stairs.

Have you ever stared intensely at someone, not saying a word, until they leave your presence due to the severe anxiety it causes them? Try it, Reader. That shit works.

I exit the stairwell and there is Larry, standing with Irma outside in a mild drizzle. He tells me he went down right before me, probably slipping past me in a small group of people that left right before I did. We stand out there for about 15 minutes, waiting for the fake fire to be cleared. Afterward, tired and dishevelled, we wander off to dinner in the fancy hotel restaurant then up to bed.

Vacation Day 7

I got up early because sleeping in a fancy hotel bed with fancy down comforters and pillows is for fancy ladies and not for fat blue collar nurses with an asshole complex. I wander down to the lobby and snatch a complimentary paper, for which I had to show proof I was a guest at the hotel. Everybody in that lobby at 6am was wearing super fancy suits and ties and I was in comfortable vacation clothes, making me feel pretty out of place. This is why, last night at dinner, the waiters in the restaurant were just a little impatient and rude with us. We just weren't wearing the right shade of Calvin Kline and Brooks Brothers. I grab a coffee from the little bistro in the lobby and park it in a comfy chair and people watch in between reading the Washington Post, which has an unusual hard on for the Redskins, even for an NFL town. Probably because they don't want to think about how bad Washington politics suck right now so they turn the attention to something that sucks less.....The Chesapeake Watershed Region Indigenous Persons (PC term for the Washington Redskins - I thought it was funny)......who suck a whole lot these days.

I find the little computer room in the back hallway for the guests and print out the vouchers for the bus tour that we'll be going on today and call up to the room, cause those bums would've slept in til 10am if I let them. They get down to the lobby and grab a coffee and we got going into the little strip mall that's right underneath the hotel. We wander around down there and see a few shops and a little spot for a buffet style breakfast and stop in there, grab our dry omelets and corn beef hash and sit down. About 5 minutes go by and, I shit you not Reader, the fucking lights go out.

In the hall and in all the other businesses around us that we can see, all of the lights are on......but where we are.....where I am.......no lights. It was at this point that Dad and Irma are starting to show signs of actually believing that being on vacation with me is the proverbial crap shoot: any minute now somebody's gonna come in with a gun or there's going to be a monsoon (that's called 'foreshadowing' in case you were wondering). I mean, when the lights first went out the mood was like "Hmm, how strange," then, as we continued eating in the dark I caught them glancing at me quickly then looking away. Then they started leaning away from me and I'm pretty sure I saw Irma reach for a rosary in her purse. Then my eyes turned red and I was vomiting pea soup while my head spun around..........

On the next episode of Vacation Hard!: "O! say does that Star-Spangled Banner yet wave...."

.........then I walked in and nerded all over the floor.

Vacation Hard!: Part 10 - An Adventurous Venture for the Venturless Adventurer

2012-01-31T04:44:00.000-08:00

We all get loaded up on the flight and I wasn't the last person to be sat next to and it was kinda nice. And the lady who sat next to me was tiny, so much the better. The flight to Maryland was pretty uneventful and we land, grab our stuff and catch a ride to D.C. from Baltimore on one of those shuttles which we shared with some interesting folks from Australia and Thailand, and after seeing them I felt much less "touristy".

We get to the L'Enfant plaza hotel, where Ellie had strategically booked us. That hotel is the perfect distance to the National Mall, which was where all the really cool things to see and do in D.C. are, not to mention that it's situated right on top of the subway and also the perfect price: cheap. After settling in the room, we decide to get moving to see the sights.

We get outside and it's overcast......there have been overcast skies ever since I left Oregon. I haven't seen the fucking sun for more than five minutes the whole time I've been on vacation. And the humidity in D.C. is actually worse than it was in Texas that day.

Being awesome in front of the hotel

But off we went down the block to the Smithsonian Castle. As we walked down there was a slightly obscured view of the Capital Building.....to which my Dad says to Irma, "Look, honey.....it's the White House."

That stopped me in my tracks. This man used to grill me about everything from history to geography (knowing the capitals and cultures of different countries was a huge deal in my house) and it was hard for me not to be a total dick and correct him at the top of my lungs. So I just let it go.....for now.

We're just about to get to the cross walk to the castle and we see this thing:

"What the fuck is that?" Dad and I ask almost in unison. It didn't answer us, so we moved on.

We cross the street to the Castle and wander the grounds for a while before going in.

There is soooooo much to see when it comes to the Smithsonian buildings (and the capital in general), so we quickly toured the castle which has a little bit of everything, and got out of there in about an hour, walking out on the other side where hundreds of tourists are wandering around on the mall grounds. We have a look around, seeing the Capital building, the Washington monument and most of the other Smithsonian buildings and realize there is no way we're going to get to it all, but it won't be for trying, so off we go down to the Washington monument.

Because of my curse (sorry Virginia and D.C. residents) there had been an earthquake about a week before I left on vacation, which had significantly damaged some of the structures in D.C., including the Washington monument, so it was closed to the public. I didn't even realize you could go up into the thing, but now I do and am highly disappointed that I couldn't because I'm cursed. Also, there was a storm on the way up the east coast, but we'll get to that later.

Moving past the monument and walking down the thoroughfare I see the Lincoln Memorial, which I'm totally geeking out about seeing, and I proclaim "There it is!", like the nerdy nerd I am. Larry asks what and I tell him. He looks at the map and says, "Oh, no, that's the WWII memorial. The Lincoln memorial is past that." I don't know if he was trying to eff with me or what, but since I know the man well and his M.O. has always been "I'm only wrong if I say I am, and only then because I thought I was wrong in the first place, but I was actually right". So I mutter, "Uh, ok", and get on with my life.

We get to the WWII memorial which, consequently, is not the Lincoln memorial, stop for a bit and move on down to the Korean and Vietnam War memorials.

As we come up to it we can see that the reflecting pool is not a pool at all.......it's a fucking mud pit. Apparently it needed renovating and the dudes down at the memorial preservation office got together and said, "Well, it's been 30 years or so since the pool has been fixed, so when should we do it?.........What's that Stirdivant?.........You want to wait until Daniel Briggs is on vacation here?......Hmm....sounds reasonable. Did he buy a really expensive camera just for this trip?......perrrrrrfect........" - This is the part where I imagine my old nemesis Stirdivant steepling his fingers and doing the Dr. Evil laugh. He's been dogging my shit since kindergarten.

Here is a shot of the Reflecting Pool reflecting fuck all.............no wait!! It's reflecting that porta-potty down there at the end!! Oh, joy.

On to the Lincoln memorial we go and I love it. If the pool had been there it would have been almost too perfect, despite the overcast skies. A few pictures here and we move down the road to the newly constructed MLK memorial. A few pics there and I start feeling woozy and irritated. I realize that I haven't eaten anything today, it's now almost 5pm and we've been up since the time nazi debacle this morning. I think this is the most I've accomplished in one day since nursing school.

I'd love to show more pictures of the MLK, Lincoln, and the three war memorials, but I found that I've lost something like 50 photos. Needless to say I was livid, but I have better ones that I took a few days after this that will be in an upcoming blog and later on the 'ole facebook page. Feel free to stop by and say hullo!

I walk ahead of Dad and Irma, saving them from "asshole mode". I walk across the bridge on the tidal basin and stop right in front of the Bureau of Engraving and Printing for a quick rest and a drink. My folks catch up and we all head back to the hotel.

When we get back, we're all seriously exhausted, irritated, and in dire need of showers. Well, I suppose I was the only one who smelled like a brothel, because being as big as I am (and paranoid about B.O.) that's just the life I live. So I drank my weight in water and head into the bathroom. I take a very long shower and get out and sit down on the can to relax in silence (easy with the visuals, Reader, my six pack isn't that sexy).

I'm totally exhausted and feel like a bag of smashed assholes. Sitting there for just a minute was wonderful and peaceful, like a mini vacation from my vacati --BEEEEEEP-BEEEEEEP-BEEEEEEP-----ATTENTION GUESTS OF L'ENFANT PLAZA---THERE HAS BEEN A FIRE REPORTED INSIDE THE BUILDING---PLEASE EVACUATE IN A CALM AND ORDERLY MANNER-----BEEEEP-BEEEEEP-BEEEEEP----ATTENTION GUESTS OF L'ENFANT PLAZA.........

No..........................................fucking..............................................way.

Next time on Vacation Hard!: En Fuego!!........NOT!

"Then my eyes turned red and I was vomiting pea soup while my head spun around.........."

Vacation Hard: Part 9 - It's the end of the world as we know it......because I forgot to take my watch off?!

2011-12-23T07:52:00.000-08:00

Let's have some back story before I begin the next part of the tale. I was adopted and raised by wonderful people. My folks were strict, but fair. I know, without a doubt, that if not for them I would be in prison right now instead of doing nerdy things like writing a blog.

That being said, and with all due respect, my parents were a pain in the ass. Most people's folks are, and you and your siblings sit around in your 20's and 30's talking about all the times you got in trouble and laugh, but when you're an only child........you get in ALL the trouble. The focus is all on you.

My Mom was notorious for waking me up for school with an animistic sort of shriek. Dad would just come in and pull covers off and threaten to pour water on me and I knew I had to get up because he'd actually do it. He threw away an $80 pair of sneakers once (Reebok Pumps....remember those?) because I didn't get them out of the living room before I went to bed one night. I never take a threat from him lightly, cause he'll do whatever crazy ass shit he thinks needs to be done to make a point.

The absolute worst habit he has is getting anywhere on time and I think he actually gets off on blaming other people for him running late. He gets himself worked up into a super shitty mood and has this whiny sort of growl when he talks, very much like I imagine my voice to be when I'm bitching at some of you Village Manor people when you don't do something I want or don't follow my instructions or when there's bickering. Y'all know I hate that shit.

Vacation Day 6:

So anyway, I'm woken up at 0430 by a slamming bathroom door. A moment later I'm in that twilight state right before sleep and I hear my father's whiny growl: "Danny! It's time to get up!" Needless to say, I'm grumpy. I had finally found a position on that bed where the iron bar wasn't raping my back about an hour bef-"Daniel! Get up!! Let's go!! Do you want to be late?!"--ore and I was comfortable and didn't want to move. I layed there, trying my best to remember that I'm a grown ass man now and I don't have to take this shit anymo---"Hey! Are you awake? IT'S TIME TO GO!!"

Here it comes, Reader: "I BEEN AWAKE, DAMN IT!!"

"WELL THEN.........GET THE FUCK UP!!"

So...........I got the fuck up. If it is possible to violently get dressed, I did that. Also violently brushed my teeth and violently packed my shit. I sat down, violently, to have a cup of coffee Irma had put on minutes after the bitching started, and again: "We don't have time for that! We gotta go! Right now!"

Pushing.......my........mother........fucking..........buttons...... "OK then! You wanna go? Let's go!" - So I grabbed my luggage and blasted out the door. I got about 20 steps away from the room and realized I had forgotten my camera bag and hat, so I turned around and came back. As I entered the room I hear Irma ask my Dad what was wrong. Dad says: "Oh, he's just being an asshole cause we have to go and he didn't get to sleep in and have his coffee." I grab my camera bag and Larry turns around and realizes that I heard him. "Well, it's the truth," he says. "Got that right," I say, because it was indeed the honest truth. Of course the annoying wake up call had nothing to do with it.

We get all our crap packed in the car and head out. Smooth sailing to the airport, park the car in the long term parking and make our way into the wrong end of the terminal. Got to the Southwest desk, checked in and boogied down to TSA, where my hazy, caffeine deprived brain caused serious issues at the metal detector. I was shuffled down to one of the stations where I mumbled something like "Whassamatter?" assuming that it was even English I was speaking. "You didn't take off your watch.....I have to scan you now." I look down and notice it there, something so simple, and become highly frustrated with myself. "Well, shit," I say. TSA guy frowns at me and says, "It's not the end of the world, man."

Somehow I am accutely aware that is not the end of the world. I am severely agitated that this guy (who was only doing his job because of my ignorance) would remind me of something so evident. I think the lack of earthquakes and boiling oceans and, you know, Jesus didn't drive by on one of the little airport wagons and say "Hey everybody......just a head's up. Might want to start doing some praying," might have tipped me off..........and then the truth of the situation hits me: I'm having a man-period. My sissy ass has been in airplanes and cars and in the heat entirely too much over the last few days and the idea of having to get on another sardine can coupled with no sleep, breakfast, or coffee has decimated my internal monolouge filter to the point that my most cynical of thoughts were going to declare war on everyone in the airport, especially Larry.

There's no reason everyone else should have to suffer because I'm "being an asshole", so I apologize for my language and finish up with TSA and we get moving. Irma and I decide we want to stop by a McDonald's there in the terminal for a quick cup of coffee because (like you need me to tell you) she had forgotten to grab her cup back in the room because Larry, the fucking time nazi was rushing everybody out the door. So we stop and get our quick meals to go and then book it on down to the gate. As soon as we get there, I noticed people lining up to board. Since I have an early bird pass for this flight as well, I get no time to enjoy my coffee or shitty hash brown.

So........as much as I do not want to admit this, the time nazi was right all along. If we had left any later I wouldn't have been able to enjoy my precious early bird boarding pass. So all you Readers keep your traps shut about it, because you don't know what it's like to suffer that man, ok. It's a terrible, ego-sucking ordeal that I hope to someday share with my own child, along with many other Larry traditions such as:

Taking F-O-R-E-V-E-R to get up on Christmas morning so we can open presents.

NOT telling me when to be careful of something when working on a car. Well, technically he'd tell me, but only after I've busted a knuckle or crushed a finger by saying "Ooooooh.......that shit hurts, right? Yeah, don't do that", and then laughing about it for 20 minutes and telling his compadres when they come over to shoot the shit. A routine question some of these guys would ask when I was at the shop, "Hey, Danny....anything bleeding today?"

Stealing anything in my apartment that he may have thought was initially his. Fucking pack rat disease.

Pretending like he can't hear you when you're spelling something unless you use the NATO phonetic alphabet.

Calling me to ask about something on his computer that's frustrating him. The man has worked with computers in cars and on multi-million dollar government aircraft, and yet a Windows operating system baffles him for some reason.

And the list goes on.

On the next episode of Vacation Hard!: An Adventurous Venture for the Venturless Adventurer

.........What's that Stirdivant?.........You want to wait until Daniel Briggs is on vacation here?......Hmm....sounds reasonable. Did he buy a really expensive camera just for this trip?......perrrrrrfect......."

Vacation Hard!: Part 8 - This ain't vacation. Normal people sleep on vacation. And there's less yelling......

2011-12-09T16:06:00.000-08:00

Vacation Day 5:

We all get some much needed rest and wake up late in the morning, which for me (with this whole 'sleep at night' thing) is like 7am. I take a quick trip to Corpus Christi to have breakfast with Terri and Allesyn (another part of my second family and Laura's mother and younger sister respectively). We went out to a pretty good Mexi place Terri frequents where we chatted and reminisced. I was told later that when Terri went back there the folks asked about who I was and she said "That's my other son", which gave me the warm and fuzzies. The older I get the more nostalgic I become and that meant a lot coming from her. We get back to their place and look through some pictures I had mostly forgotten about and found some of the only pictures left of my Mom (Loretta) that were taken before she died, and on the night of my high school graduation. It was kinda hard not making the eye water when I saw those pictures, because I thought they were gone. And so I extend my sincerest love and gratitude to Terri and the whole family for keeping and caring for those pictures. It means a lot. And now that everybody knows what a big titty-baby I am, we can continue......

I jump in the truck and head back to Kingsville. Irma booked us at the family barracks on Lackland AFB in San Antonio for that evening, so we wouldn't have to get up early and drive all the way from K-ville for the flight out to D.C. that left around 8am. So we fart around, nagging each other to death, Dad showing me how well he's honed his considerable pack rat skills and Irma and I rolling our eyes at him like some kind of synchronized event in the Suburban Olympics.

We get the car loaded up with all our luggage and get going back to San Antonio. On the way I text Bunny and let her know I'd be in town in a couple of hours so we could hang out. We get to Lackland and get all our stuff unloaded and get ready to go out to the Naval Exchange (military shopping mall), which my Dad finds fascinating because there's no sales tax on base (something I enjoy statewide in Oregon).

After wandering around at the Exchange, we head out to Wal-Mart to get some much needed medicine for Dad, and I let Bunny know where we were and she picked me up. Off we went to Casa Rio (a popular mexican restaurant) on a Sunday evening. This place is right on the Riverwalk in San Antonio, which most people from those waters can tell you, is packed on any given weeked. But this is Labor Day weekend.......so yeah. After waiting outside in the stagnant heat we go in to eat...........Ok, Reader, I know I whine a lot about the heat, but you should go live in tropical climates where the only seasons are 'wet' and 'dry' with 4-6 storms a year that leave you without electricity and running water for days, take baths in trash cans filled with rain water, go to schools with no air conditioning, deal with bugs that will carry you off in force right after they give you any number of respiratory diseases and then tell me if living with the heat is worth it.

We spend less time eating than we did waiting to get in. I'm already in a foul mood because I'm uncomfortable with the heat, not to mention I've been couped up with all the traveling over the last 4 days, and I'm ready to really start taking pictures and having fun. So we finish up dinner and get out of there, walking all along the River Walk and the surrounding streets in downtown San Antonio, which at night is quite nice.

After that Bunny takes me back to the Lackland gates and Dad comes out to get me back on base. We get to the room and I feel like I need a pressure washer to get all the sweat and grime off of me. After a quick shower, I walk out and Dad's watching TV:

"Boy, I dunno what's wrong with these dumbasses. They can't seem to catch that Jason Bourne. He's a crafty motherfucker."

I chase him off to bed and......uh......well, I guess you could call it "sleep" on the pull out bed in the couch with the enormous iron rod cross bar that effectively raped me for the entire 4 hours I "slept". I was violently woken by a slamming bathroom door and began suffering flashbacks from my childhood:

"Danny! It's time to get up!"

On the next episode of Vacation Hard: It's the end of the world as we know it......because I forgot to take my watch off?!

"Pushing.......my........mother........fucking..........buttons......"

Vacation Hard!: Part 7 - Keep your foot hard on the pedal - Son, never mind them brakes......

2011-11-28T06:24:00.000-08:00

Ohhhhhhmyfuckinghead.

I checked my phone and it was.....oh God, the pounding!!........about 10am. My Dad hadn't called so I figured.....I'd shoot myself in the face to end this suffering.......I should call him. The T-Mobile reception where they live.......I think someone poured gasoline into my mouth.......sucks, so I had to borrow Roger's phone to call to see what the plan was.....besides vomiting copious amounts of intestine into my new best friend, Mr. Toilet......for the day.

Brrrrring, Brrrrrring...."Hello?"

"Arrum.....Good Morning--"

"Where the fuck are you?"

"Livingston Texas, Dad. How are you this morning?"

"All I know is you better get your ass back here in a hurry. Carlos (one of my step brothers) started your brisket last night and everyone is expecting you here before 5 O'Clock and it's the Labor Day weekend so get in the truck right now and move. Be careful. Love you."

"Uh-Huh. Can I have a cup of coffee first?"

"...............*silence*..........................."

"Ugh.......FINE!!"

"Ok. See you in a little bit."

By the tone of his voice, there was no way I was going to get to stay for lunch like I had planned the night before, so Roger hooked me up with one of those canned coffee drinks, and if a beverage ever saved my ass, it was that one.

So I got all my crap packed up and gave hugs to a busy 3 year old and got to hold Mia one more time.......and that's when she smiled at me......it's like she hypontized me with her little baby eyes.......and they said: "You are mine now, Daniel. You will love me all the days and buy me many things. And it doesn't even have to be my birthday. Go now and miss me terribly."

And so, totally dehydrated and hung over, I left. I thought it was totally unfair that I didn't get to spend more time with them, but I did say I'd be back to have dinner with my step family before we left for D.C., so this is all the Frontier's fault for breaking down the day before. Oh well, at least I got to spend a little time.

I hit Houston around noonish and it was pretty much the same as it was coming in the day before, but in reverse because going south is like traveling down hill. Since it was the Labor Day weekend, smokey was out in force. Out in force with the giant smokey asshole stick shoved up their collective rectum. These fuckers were looking to make some money off of people who were doing practically nothing. Are your passenger's feet on the dashboard? Ticket. Going 2 miles over the speed limit? Ticket. Got those fuzzy dice hanging from your rear view mirror that you've had there for like 5 years? Well, you'll find out on Labor Day weekend in Texas from a man wearing a giant coyboy hat (who isn't doing a fucking thing associated with being a coyboy) that your precious fuzzy dice are considered an "obstruction of view". Ticket. I had a state trooper follow me for (no joke) eleven miles. I know because he was the third one to get right behind me (or right along side) and tail my ass like I owed him money, so I hit the trip meter and watched. Buncha douchers.

Even with a bitchin' hangover and gasoline mouth, and on Labor Day weekend no less, I still made Houston Texas traffic my bitch. That's how nerds roll.

Thank God the average Texas freeway speed limit is 70mph. I got home in record time, I think, rolling into my step sister Claudia's house in K-ville around 4pm. Since Larry took up residence in my ass about getting home quickly, I figured he'd be there, but noooooooooo. He's still at the shop. Figures.

I go in and greet everybody and the house smells fantastic. Like a Mexican food flavor explosion. I get a beer and park it at the kitchen table and wonder at how much my step sister Claudia's children (who of course barely remember me) have grown. Claudia's son, Aden, quickly ropes me into watching him play his Star Wars video game on the Wii......let's face it: if it's got Star Wars in the title, I'm so down for whatever it is. So I'm sitting there watching him play, yelling at him to "watch out.....the guy is right there!! You gonna git kilt!!", and Larry walks in and starts teasing me about my affinity for all things dork. I've suffered this for years, so it's easily dealt with and we file off to dinner when Carlos shows up with the enormous brisket he'd been smoking for 18 hours.

I love the Chapas......they fed me until my pancreas screamed "One more fucking bite, and I'll give you diabetes so bad you'll need to DRINK your insulin from a Big Gulp cup!!"

It's a beautiful thing, to be surrounded by people who love you. I forget this much of the time, because I'm not around any family up in Oregon, and I live a fairly quiet hermit like life style, which suits me fine, but can get pretty lonely. That being said, when you are seperated from family and come back to it, you appreciate it so much more than when it's around all the time and peeing all over your toilet seats and losing all your nice spoons.

Next time on Vacation Hard!: This ain't vacation. Normal people sleep on vacation. And there's less yelling......

"Danny! It's time to get up!"

Vacation Hard! Part 6: Been makin' a fool out of folks just like you.....and helping white people dance.....

2011-11-20T08:53:00.000-08:00

Dad finished up on the truck around 7pm and I decided to wait until the next morning to make the trip to Livingston. We get to what we call "the little house" in Kingsville (the first house my folks bought after I was born) and I get straight to the task of washing the smell of baked ass off of myself and doing all the personal hygiene required to make me not smell like a homeless person then lurch off to bed.

The next morning I hear the old man grumbling and slamming shit around in what I assume was an attempt to make a point without actually saying anything directly to my face. I crack my door open and give him the "what the fuck" look. He stops in the hall and glares at me, pointing toward the bathroom:

"I don't know what the hell you're doing at your fucking house, son, but this here.........this is a man's house. We don't put toilet seats down in a man's house."

You damn women have me brainwashed even when I'm on vacation.

Vacation Day 3:

Larry and I poke around all morning, running errands, talking about a hundred different things. We had a quick meal at Lydia's, a popular place for breakfast in Kingsville, where we ran into a couple of his compadres and a couple of the nurses I used to work with and my first nurse boss ever, Mrs. Sears (who doesn't have a first name as far as any nurse at Spohn Kleberg Hospital knows) and her husband. Gave her a hug and chatted for a second and she gives me that same stern look she used to when I was a 19 year old punk and she says: "I'm watching you." I thought about it after we left and here is what I think she really meant: "I'm watching you on facebook, Dan. You seriously need to consider cleaning it up a little."

**Note to Mrs. Sears: Mrs. Sears, if you're reading this, I'm really, really sorry! I was raised in a military family and around guys who use the f-bomb as a noun, verb, and adjective. My Mom even cussed worse than some of those guys, so I have a hard time expressing myself without bad words unless I'm around people I respect, like you (what does that say about the rest of you nerds?). Love you, Mrs. Sears. Thanks for giving me a chance all those years ago and then putting up with me once I got there. No promises on the bad language, though.

So I left for Livingston around 10am which, according to everybody, was a bad time to leave because I would hit Houston during the clutches of rush hour hell. Here is my theory about that: every hour, with the exception of between 3 and 4 am, is rush hour hell in Houston, Texas. Just like it is in Atlanta, Dallas, L.A., Miami, Chicago, and any other city with shitty crime statistics. The blue collar criminals run until around 3am performing muggings and vandalism, then the white collar criminals wake up early for coffee and cocaine before they start a busy day of insider trading and various forms of securities fraud.

After an uneventful 4 hours of driving, I get to Houston. It's like driving in a Nascar thing (match? game? tournament? who cares?). People dart in and out of traffic and I begin to notice a trend: the only ones doing it are either suped up trucks and tricked out coupes or high end Mercedes and BMWs. Translation: Gangsters and Securities Traders. And now you understand.

Anyway, I get through Houston without a scratch and make it to BFE, Texas in a short order. After some initial confusion I find Laura's house and go in to meet the chillrun, Jackson 3 years old and Mia only 4 months. I've known Laura and my "second family" since I was 17 and for whatever reason the girls in that family have always called me "Boo". So Laura instructed Jackson to call me "Uncle Boo" which I thought would be uber cute.......until he started calling me "Uncle Boobs". Of course, he doesn't really know what he's saying and Laura tried to correct him, but let's face it: we're all laughing on the inside cause that shit is funny.

So Uncle Boobs held little Mia and instantly fell in love. With both the kids really; they're being raised to be polite and respectful, qualities many children severely lack nowadays. Jackson is a character if I ever saw one and sharp as a tack, and Mia's so damn cute it makes you want want to punch your significant other in the mouth and holler "It's your fault we can't make babies that look like this!" Maybe they ain't blood, but I'm damn proud to be Uncle Boobs to them chillrun.

"Hey Jackson! Lemme get a picture of you......uh......ok........that works I guess."

Gotta go feed the evil goats

Been a long time since I've held a baby. Laura watched me like a hawk.

Roger made it home from work and we started the drinking pretty early in the evening, Laura being the only responsible one. I quickly insulted Roger's choice of whiskey and bastardized it by drinking it with Dr. Pepper (I regret it in retrospect and apologize humbly). We finished off the whiskey and made the switch to Bacardi 151 and some lager that was darker than that swamp water shit they serve at McMinneman's (The Terminator) but delicious; then started smoking cigars and I made my first attempt at playing guitar drunk. I know I sucked, but the sauce had me thinking I was rocking hard, tasty abs when actually I was rocking wet, soggy noodles. And then the greatest thing in the history of alcohol happened: Roger made us flaming Dr. Peppers.

I don't know if you've ever had a flaming Dr. Pepper Reader, but if you have not, you must stop reading this right now and go have one. I'll wait.

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Jeez......take forever why don't you.

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.........HOLY SHIT, READER!! You look totally fucked up!! Told you that shit is ah-ma-za-zing!

Poor Roger was wore out after working in the Gulf and then driving all the way home. You can see the lid of the Tums bottle in the lower left corner.....cause we're old now and partyin' ain't easy no more.

We park our asses outside on the patio and continue the drinking. We talked about so many different things and I honestly can't remember it all; I just know the McGregors and I were nerding out over everything from diving (their profession) and guns to music, movies and military history (a right good Texas hoot'n'anny, Brother Cousin). There are only a handful of people I know that can bang out a conversation with so many different topics and never get tired......Roger and Laura: y'all complete the nerd in me and shit.

Off to bed around 3am and instantly slip into an alcohol induced coma.

Next time on Vacation Hard!: Keep your foot hard on the pedal - Son, never mind them brakes......

"You are mine now, Daniel. You will love me all the days and buy me many things. And it doesn't even have to be my birthday........"

Vacation Hard!: Part 5 - It's getting hot in here! So take off all your cloth---NO DAN!! You're in public!

2011-11-12T08:44:00.000-08:00

Vacation Day 2:

Irma went to work that morning and Dad and I got packed up for the trip back to Kingsville, where he has an auto shop that's always overloaded with work. We ran a few errands and stopped by the original Iwo Jima memorial which was relocated to Harlingen (God only knows why) after the much larger one in Arlington was built.

Dad's checkin' it out.

Once we got to Kingsville, I'd be leaving with the Frontier to go see my good friend Laura, her husband Roger and all the children they've had since the last time I saw them in 2006. She lives in Livingston, a little town about an hour north of Houston, so it's about a 6 hour drive from Kingsville, depending on Houston traffic, so it was important that I leave as early as possible to avoid Satan's rush hour.

So after a brief explanation on how to operate the Frontier, Dad let me go. Once again, if you know mechanics, they never have a completely functional automobile. The Frontier had a problem with the A/C where I'd have to open the hood and hit the clutch plate on the front of the compressor with a long stick Larry had specifically for that purpose, because the magnets were so worn and old that the plate got stuck in the off position every time you turned off the engine.........which led to him not turning off the engine even when it was appropriate:

"Aren't you going to turn off the engine before I pump the gas, Dad?"

"What for?"

"Uh......so I don't die. Isn't it dangerous to have the engine running when you do that?"

"Naaaaaaah." Which is "Larry" for "Just fucking do it, shithead. I know what I'm doing.".......needless to say, I've heard that A LOT.

Anyway, I get going a little later in the day. I miss an exit about an hour north of Kingsville and have to double back to get on the right track. The A/C goes out because I was probably pushing the truck too hard in my frustration, so I pull off on the shoulder so I can whack the plate to get it to go back on. I pop the hood and get out, whack the thing 2 or 3 times and it won't catch. So, like the mechanically impaired moron I am, I turn off the engine and wait for a couple of minutes to see if it just needed a "rest". Hit the key again and the bastard won't turn over.

Now, because of the understanding I have that bad shit happens to me on vacation, I'm much calmer and accepting of this situation than I thought possible. I calmly call Larry and field a bunch of questions that annihilate that patience:

"Well, what the fuck did you do?"

"I turned the engine off and it wouldn't turn back on."

"Why did you turn it off in the first place?"

"I thought it would help."

"The only thing I think it helped is your understanding about why you should not have done that."

"JUSTCOMEGETMEGODDAMNIT!!"

So there I sat. It was only 96 degrees at the time, but according to the heat index, it felt like it was 104. As I stewed in my ball soup, I realized something very odd: I go into the sauna at my gym in Oregon a couple of times a month and I am sweating more profusely sitting in a broken down Nissan Frontier on the shoulder of a Texas highway than I do in a place that is specifically designed to make me sweat. I laughed at this which served to briefly elevate my mood.

Dad showed up quickly with the car dolly and we got loaded up and went back to the shop in Kingsville. During the ride back we had this argument:

"Heat index is supposed to be 104 today."

"What a load of shit. If it's 96 degrees, then that's what it is."

"What? You don't believe in the heat index? It's fucking science, Dad. You lived in Wisconsin until you were 20. You're trying to tell me you don't believe in wind chill factor either?"

"Oh, hell no."

"Oh, what the fu--.....ok, so you don't think that if it's 20 degrees below zero outside with the wind blowing and you go outside without enough clothes on that it's not going to feel like it's about 15 degrees colder than it actually is?"

"Just listen to that sentence......first of all it's your own goddamn fault for going outside without proper clothing. Second, if you go outside and it's cold enough to freeze your spit before it hits the ground, I guaran-fucking-tee you, you're not going to give a shit what the 'wind chill factor' is."

I'm sorry, Reader. Curse words are mandatory when making a point in my family.

Anyway, back in Kingsville, Dad gets busy fixing the truck. He figured out that the alternator was the main problem, after he explained something about the break mechanics of that vehicle and how that somehow tied in to helping the truck not start. Clearly I'm not mentally equipped to tell you exactly what that is, because even though I try to understand what the hell he's saying, it still sounds like a Charlie Brown teacher's conference in my head, but here is the dialouge anyway (bear with me on this):

"Almost all newer vehicles are equipped with a safety feature that makes it so you have to push on the brake before you can start your car, so that means there is a little button at the base of the brake pedal that's engaged when you push it down. Now that's nice and all, but the Japanese, in their infinite fucking wisdom, decided that on the opposite end of that button, there needed to be a "pad" so that the button didn't get worn out as fast.......but the material used to make the fucking pad is kind of like the rubber that a pencil eraser is made out of, so it gets old and it dries up and falls apart."

"Well that's pretty damn stupid. What the hell did they do that for?"

"Hold on.......the engineers down at Nissan didn't call you when they were designing this model? Why didn't they call you, Danny? Obviously you have a lot of insight that can be brought to the table when these highly educated motherfuckers get together to build a new---"

"WAIT, WAIT, WAIT!!! You mean to tell me that the alternator and this pad thingy failed at the SAME TIME when I was driving this piece of shit?!"

"Well, son, you're 6'4", sitting in a truck designed by a small Asian man, and your goddamn leg probably weighs 70 pounds. I don't imagine you were being gentle with the pedals."

".......well, shit."

All of Larry's "work".

The Briggs' are simple folk; that piece of cardboard he's laying on is known as a "Mexican Creeper" in the Auto biz.

But you want to know the really funny thing, Reader? That truck has been servicing my Dad's trips back and forth to San Antonio to see his doctors for two and a half years. That truck has over 225 thousand miles on it's original engine. That truck has never broken down during that time. I get in the thing alone and it suddenly has a change of heart? I hope you're starting to understand the underlying theme here: I am seriously cursed.

Next time on Vacation Hard!: Been makin' a fool out of folks just like you.....and helping white people dance.....

".........HOLY SHIT, READER!! You look totally fucked up!! Told you that shit is ah-ma-za-zing!"

Vacation Hard!: Part 4 - Everywhere I go, there's weather......whether or not the weather is fair there......never.

2011-11-07T08:41:00.000-08:00

Larry and I drive to Harlingen from San Antonio, picking up conversation about many things most people would find tedious and boring, but our level of enthusiasm is both awesome and totally nerdy so you'd probably get a kick out of it if only to tease me later. I miss my Dad and his straight ahead way of making a point, but like I said before: the man lives to fuck with me. And that, dear Reader, is why I kick it in Oregon.

That and the Texas heat. I mean, seriously. I was on fucking fire.

The four and a half hour drive went quickly because Larry was telling his "airplane stories". Since I was old enough to hear them (about 15 by his standards) he's been telling me these stories about his some 7000 hours of flight time in the Navy. Apparently you can get into all kinds of shit when you spend that much time in military aircraft. I've been asked not to recount any of what he did until he's dead (some of this shit makes you chew your nails and wonder how the hell we ever made it though the Cold War without a nuclear holocaust), but I can say that if you've never heard a grown man tell you how he won a farting contest in the cockpit of an airplane with 2 other grown men by eating pickled eggs and boiled hot dogs, then you have not lost control of a major sphincter because you were laughing so hard that you had to think about breathing before you could think about not shitting yourself.

Anyway, I made it to Harlingen with clean underpants (this time) and had a quick dinner that my step Mom, Irma, had ready for us when we arrived. I swear I feel like a king when I go home to Texas. The people are so different: ready to make you feel at home and pump you full of food and drink until you wonder if your colon can really handle another pound of beef (the answer is yes). I wander off to my nice, comfy guest bed and sleep at night for the first time in probably 2 years or so. I felt rested and much less cranky and now know why I don't really have a social life. I'm kind of a dick unless I sleep at night, and since I work at night........well, it's safe to say that's a lot of dick.

Dad and I spend a little time out in the back yard, having coffee and talking. It rained the night before after something like 65 days of not raining. This is only pertinent to me because I just left a place where it's uncommon for it to go 10 days with no rain, so I get sick of overcast skies and come to the dry south Texas wasteland in anticipation of clear skies........and yeah......tough shit. Oh yeah! Remember that time I went to live in Brazil for 4 months back in late 2004 and it freakin' SNOWED in south Texas for the first time in 100 freakin' years?! So not only do I miss all the cool ass shit that happens, but Mother Nature and the people on the Weather Channel be plottin' on me. You think I'm kidding, Reader? Just wait.......

On the next episode of Vacation Hard!: It's getting hot in here! So take off all your cloth---NO DAN!! You're in public!

"JUSTCOMEGETMEGODDAMNIT!!"

Vacation Hard!: Part 3 - Ex-traneous.....Ex-acerbating..........Ex-plosive!!

2011-10-30T09:10:00.000-07:00

"It is no coincidence that in no known language does the phrase 'As pretty as an Airport' appear."
-- Douglas Adams

We finally land in San Antonio. "Deplaning", as it's called in the biz, is super awesome. It's where the passengers in the middle and back of the plane wait for 20 minutes for the people in the front to remember that they have luggage in the overhead bins.......oh yeah......and common sense. And if you can get them to remember both at the same time it's a magical event. Like watching whales fucking or something.

I'm walking out of the terminal keeping an eye out for my good friend Ann, who I've called "Bunny" ever since she was a baby nurse that I had to train to do all the wrong stuff (she's subsequently moved past my 'Dark Side' training style and will now tell you how awesome she is at high volume). She said she'd pick me up for lunch before I headed home with my Dad. As I walk out, she's hiding off to one side, like she was going to let me pass and then yell at me from behind and then be all butt-hurt because I didn't recognize her. Then she would have leverage (among women's favorite things to have besides "babies" and "sparklies") to be able to say things like, "HEY, remember that time that I went to pick you up at the airport and you didn't even recognize me?! Yeah, so go buy me something sparkly to assuage my grief over that shit."

After gathering my things from the "oops, we smashed your shit" conveyor belt, we walk outside. The built up heat latent in my bones and skin from all the lava daggers everybody on the plane was shooting me with their devil eyes collided with the oppressive South Texas heat and I burst into flames. Then Bunny politely informs me that she forgot where she parked. This situation sounds vaguely familiar.......

This is the story of The Journey to Find The Bunny's Car.

Day 1:

While I had packed very well for this unexpected and ardorous journey and felt I was best prepared for the worst of conditions, I would have never guessed that as we trekked across the vastness of the San Antonio International Airport parking structure (3 fucking levels, Bunny. REALLY?!) that I would be on fire. I had left all my flame retardant clothing at home.

Day 2:
She drove up behind me as I was searching the same row for the 2nd time because that tricky bitch probably knew where the car was the whole time and was doing this to me to seek revenge for us losing touch for like 5 years or whatever it was. I got in and the flames were intantly extinguished because she started talking and laughing and all the oxygen was sucked out of the car. We had a good chat on the way to lunch and we're laughing the whole time because seperately we're funny, but together our comedy is magical. Like watching two monkeys hump a football or something.

We finish up at Lorenzo's "Fo' Realz" Italian and I call my Dad for a place where we can meet. Now, talking to Larry about anything that involves a specific event to take place at a future time is never easy; the man lives to fuck with me, questioning everything, but mostly directions and spelling (I learned the NATO phonetic alphabet just so he'd never be able to screw with me about spelling: "Did you say C or D?", "CHARLIE, Dad!! Fucking CHARLIE!!"). I would share further about that interesting dynamic, but that's a whole blog unto itself and I have shit to do today, so let's skip to the part where Bunny is driving me to the Wal-Greens and I say, "You watch, my Dad's gonna give me some shit about my hair. You should ask him about the time he introduced me as his daughter to a bunch of his Navy buddies when I was in the 10th grade".

We sit waiting for him and Bunny asks if I know what he drives. I tell her that if she just watched for the shittiest piece of shit rolling into the parking lot, that'd be him. Because anybody who's got a mechanic family member or friend knows that all their customer's cars are nice and they drive shit that's just about to fall apart. So anyway he totally fooled me by rolling up in a not-so-bad (for now) Nissan Frontier. We get out of the car and I introduce Bunny to my Dad. And this man, who I haven't seen in 2 years, doesn't say, "Hello, son. How was your flight?" or any of that cordial shit normal white movie parents say to their kids. Dad says, "You gonna go with your hair like that?" So after I indignatly holler "SEE!! I freakin' TOLD YOU!!" and when Bunny stops laughing, Dad asks, "What's the name of your band again?"

"I'm not in a band."

"Oh, then I guess it's time for a fucking hair cut then, huh?"

On the next episode of Vacation Hard!: I been workin' on a Night Train......drinkin' coffee, takin' C17H21NO4..........

".......it's safe to say that's a lot of dick."

Vacation Hard!: Part Deux. Pronounced "Doo". That's gross French people.....grow up.

2011-10-23T10:27:00.000-07:00

Fortuately, I had purchased the Southwest "Early Bird" boarding pass, which allowed me to be among the first to board thus ensuring I'd have enough time to get settled before people started cramming up the airplane. Southwest has the policy to allow passengers to choose their own seats which is both a blessing and a curse, because toward the end of the boarding process you'll inevitably have a family with small children who did not board right away (even the Early Bird people can't board before parents with small children and the disabled) and now they can't sit together and the flight attendants will ask that people start giving up seats. They will not allow the plane to leave until several good samaratans, in a fit of kindness (or impatience) get up and move for these people. Well, my fat ass wasn't getting up, because I almost had my seat belt on. Yes, I'm one of those sorry assholes who needs a belt extender becasue I miss being able to buckle my airplane seat belt by like this ________ much, depending on the size of your computer screen. Because of this I refuse to eat anything on the flight, but really it's mostly because I can't lower the tray table down all the way because my knees are pressed up against the seat in front of me. God forbid the person in that seat wants to recline it at all. I had a guy once who slamed his back repeatedly into the seat thinking it was stuck and then looked at me with an "eat shit" look when I asked him to stop.

People would pass me in the isle and the looks I got were either in disbelief or disgust. And it's funny to me because they'd look at the empty seat next to me and then up at me and I could read them like an open book because I chose to look each one of them in the face like an open challange to "sit here and lick my elbows". I was the last person anyone on that flight sat next to. I completely understand why, but it still kinda hurts to know that I was the one that sucked the most out of a couple hundred people, but I still have nothing to blame but my intense love for ice cream and otherwise awesome genetics.

Finally, a woman made her way into my row to sit next to me. "Hi," I said. "Grunt," she replied and glared at me as if she was trying to make me burst into flames with the power of her mind. She plopped down into the seat with a look of obvious defeat. Turns out she's a nurse too and we talked shop for a while until I had to answer "the question": "No, I'm an LVN" being the answer. After that the conversation died down considerably, which was fine with me because she just wanted to talk about how allergic she was to everything and how badly the hospital she worked at had been treating her. Gosh lady, it must really suck to have a degree and a hospital job in a down economy.

I catch my connecting flight in Denver and board a plane with about 20 vacant seats, so this time I had a whole row to myself, but somehow still suffered a few disparaging looks from passer-bys in the isle. Why people be hatin' on big folks? You know I can literally throw you little shitheads, right?

Next time on Vacation Hard!: Ex-traneous.....Ex-acerbating..........Ex-plosive!!

"........This is the story of The Journey to Find The Bunny's Car.........Day 1......"

VACATION HARD!! - This time it's personal with a vengency like aftertaste!!!!

2011-10-15T10:56:00.000-07:00

The cabbie shows up 10 whole minutes early and calls me: "Uh, so you're cab is here. I been sitting out here for like 5 minutes." Calm and ever polite I say "Oh, thank you. I'll be right out." - but really I won't because......I mean......mind your tone, asshole. So I did what my mother often referred to as "dilly-dally". I triple checked some things and went pee, even though I didn't really need to go, just so I could make that shit can wait a little longer. Then I go out and get loaded up and hop in the front seat and find the real source of his irritation: "Who goes to the airport at four in the fucking morning, dude?"

My normal response here would be, "Your Mom", but I was more concerned with making sure I got where I needed to go on time and that all depended on Mr. Tudy-Pants cab driver, and I know how crafty some of these fuckers can be about getting you anywhere in a timely manner, so I just kept my trap shut and gave him a look that said either, "If I wanted to go to your Mom's vagina at four in the morning, you're gonna take me, cause I'm paying you, dicklicker," or "I have a large fecal mass occupying the majority of my lower intestine and if we don't get the FUCK ON OUT, I'm going to evacuate it inside of your cab."

And that seemed to get things moving.

On the next episode of Vacation Hard!: Whatchoo talkin' 'bout, Willis?!

".......sit here and lick my elbows."

Vacation Blog Prologue

2011-10-09T10:06:00.000-07:00

Vacationing is always an iffy thing for me. People think I'm crazy when I get nervous about going on vacation, but nearly every vacation I've ever been on results in either serious personal issues or injury. Not kidding. Here is a short list of absolutely true events that occurred during my vacations:

1) September 1996: A naive 19 y/o Dan is commissioned to help a good friend and his Mother move from my hometown, Kingsville, Texas to their hometown, Baltimore, Maryland. We drove a U-Haul van all the way up and had a pretty fun time from my recollection, but what sucked was Hurricane Edouard was on its way up to that area and there was a cold front coming in from the west at the same time. All that change in weather caused a serious head cold, which I carried with me when I flew out, which played hell with my sinuses and destroyed one ear drum, causing mild permanent hearing loss and what looked like miscarried alien babies coming from my nostrils for a couple of weeks. Rotting on the inside while you aren't able to hear people tell you how horrible you look was never in the vacation plan.

2) October 2002: I took a trip up to Peoria, Illinois to see my girlfriend at the time, who was completing an internship at a hospital in the area. I stayed in the male dorms the first night I was there to help keep the cost of vacation down. I also bathed in the communal shower there (which made me feel like I was in prison) with a polite young Indian man who apparently had FUCKING CHICKEN POX......which I never had as a child, growing up mostly over seas where people don't get sick very often (one of the few advantages of living in the tropics). I spent the next four days alternating between laying in a bath tub full of aveno and oozing pus all over my nice hotel bed. I had fucking chicken pox lesions in my ears and on my nutsack, for fuck sake. What fun.

3) November 2006: My good friend Laura was graduating dive school and I went down to Houston to watch her graduation and see my Dad and second family. At the time my marriage wasn't doing so well and in August of that year I had made the incredibly ignorant decision to reply to a post on Craigslist of a woman who seemed interesting to me, because my lapses in judgement may be few and far between, but they're pretty fucking legendary. Needless to say it was a totally dumb and I regretted it immediately, but moved on. The night Laura graduated I got a call from my wife telling me she'd found that email in my outbox (there was no reply by the woman) and so pretty much nailed the coffin shut on our already failing marriage. Certainly not a shining moment in the history of vacation or fidelity.

4) September 2009: After my Dad and his wife Irma were up to visit the beautiful (and at the time dry) Pacific Northwest, I was helping my then girlfriend move into my apartment. As I was coming down the stairs with my billionth load of stuff, I tripped and fell down about four steps, spraining both ankles and tearing ligaments in both feet (interesting how you can actually hear a popping sound when that happens). I landed on my elbows and knees and cried like a little girl, mostly cause I knew I was fucked with both of my ankles sprained. I was out of work for an extra five days and layed around feeling sorry for myself and wondering what the fuck it was about vacation that bad shit always seemed to happen. Aside from the 2006 vacation, none of it was really my fault. I'm just as careful and aware as any other time during the year, so I don't really get it. Maybe my negative karma comes due only during vacation, or something more sinister is working behind the scenes to ensure I never actually have fun during a time when fun is the only thing on the agenda. Whatever it is, I'm very leery about taking vacation and now you see why.

In 2010 into early 2011 my Dad, Larry, was having serious health problems which I won't elaborate on because he's going to read this some day and call me up to tell me "all those people don't need to know my business". Anyway, I think these problems finally gave him a sense of mortality, because he finally agreed to stop his "busy life" and come with me on vacation. Washington D.C. was where he wanted to go and that's where we went........

Hilarity fucking ensues. I guess I never learn.......

Super Quiz #2: Health and Wellness

2011-08-17T10:09:00.000-07:00

Super Quiz #2: Health and Wellness

How much water should the average, healthy adult drink in a day?
a) 8 – 8oz glasses (64 oz) or about 2 Liters (you're such a nerd).
b) You don't really have to drink that much water as long as you drink an equal volume of something else like Dr. Pepper, beer, or Gatorade.
c) I ain't drinkin' no water! Fish fuck in the water!
Should stem cell research continue?
a) Yes.
b) No – until I have a stroke or Parkinson's disease or one of my loved ones has a serious medical condition that could be cured with the findings in stem cell research, then it'll totally be ok.
Which of the following is most hazardous to your health?
a) Eating an entire bucket of fried chicken by yourself at least 3 times a week.
b) Working 14 hour shifts 6 days a week in a coal mine in the 1930's
c) Ice Hockey
What is a “panic attack”?
a) A serious medical condition possibly caused by a past experienced trauma or severe immediate stress.
b) An excuse to miss work or not work at all
c) An excuse to have a legal prescription for mild narcotics
d) An excuse to have people pay a lot of attention to you
e) An excuse to keep it quiet in your house
Make it so the room you are in is completely quiet and tell me what you hear.
a) Ringing. I take a lot of aspirin/motrin and have a poor diet
b) Pounding. I eat a lot of salty food and sit around all day playing video games/masturbating.
c) The Ocean. I never clean my ears / I have an ear infection.
d) Moaning and sucking. You lucky bastard.
How long should it take an average healthy adult to walk a mile?
a) About 20 minutes, depending on traffic
b) I don't know. Is my Rascal fully charged? (HOLY CRAP! Did I not just say 'walk' you lazy ass?!)
c) It depends on whether I'm going uphill, both ways, in 3 feet of snow or not.
d) I'll let you know as soon as I get this fucking hip replaced, asshole! (Oh, sorry Grandpa) I KNOW YOU ARE! (I'll go charge the Rascal)
How many nurses does it take to screw in a light bulb?
a) Zero – that's not my light bulb.
b) Zero – call maintenance. That's their job.
c) More than you can shake a stick at if the light bulb is required in the room of a patient with a really hot grandson or something.
What's the difference between God and doctors?
a) God would never remind you, at every opportunity, of how stupid he thinks you are.
b) God understands the following equation: Disgruntled and unappreciated nursing staff = NO SLEEP.
c) God doesn't think he's a doctor.
What's that on your face?
a) Acne. I'm a teenager trying to figure out what products work best for me.
b) It's an exfoliating mask of Pomegranate, Ginko Biloba, and natural fruit enzymes. (Wow. That sounds like a really expensive waste of time, middle aged white lady.)
c) Sperm. (I thought I told you to stop doing porn!)
d) It's a fucking mole, OK?! Stop calling it my “third eye”!
Answers:
You gonna die

Super Quiz #1: Sex & Relationships

2011-08-11T12:36:00.000-07:00

Super Quiz #1: Sex & Relationships

How often do you masturbate?
a. Once or twice a month. I just don't have time for more than that.
b. 5-8 times a month. I got a lot of stress to rub out!
c. 4 or more times a week. It's like an extra mini workout!
d. (Lie) I NEVER!! (Applies to women only)

Women – how often do you have sex with your significant other? (Blowies and Handies don't count)
a. 6-8 times a week. We're Catholic newly weds!!
b. 2-4 times a week. My significant other is still (sort of) sexy!
c. 2-3 times a month. Just so they'll stop whining (plus my side action keeps me busy).
d. Sex? What for? Asshole is lucky I even come home after work.
Men – how often do you have sex with your significant other?
a. (Lie) I get that shit whenever I want it! If not I get it somewhere else!
b. (Lie) 3-5 times a week.......yup......can't live without this good lovin'.
c. (Lie) I give it up like 3 times a month so I can keep banging my side action without any snooping.
d. Sex? What for? I have to have 3 (preferred alcoholic beverages) just to be able to have a conversation.
How many loving, meaningful relationships have you had?
a. I love them all, just as long as they're paying my bills
b. < 5. I found my love early in life and we've been togeth – BLAH, blah, blah. I'm fucking thrilled for you.
c. > 5. I haven't found “The One”, but I believe in my heart they're out there waiting for me (awwwwww.....BARF).
d. *sniff, sniff*.........I've never been loved!! Why won't anyone love me?! - (It's probably the smell) - What smell?! - (I dunno, Peppy. Just paint yourself up like a cat and keep trying.) - Huh?
How do you handle passing gas around your significant other?
a. Just let it out. They're used to it.
b. Distance self 10-20 feet from loved one, fart, crop dust, wait 30 seconds and then return to loved one.
c. Go to the bathroom and run the faucet and hope no one hears you because your ass sounds like a trumpet.
d. Forced Dutch Oven.
How do you express your love to your significant other?
a. Flowers, candy, massage and all that fancy bullshit.
b. Oral sex
c. Electrified Cattle Prod (Roger and Laura only)
d. Restraining Order
How many sexual positions have you tried with your significant other?
a. One or two. Sex is for procreation, not recreation / I'm too old for that pretzel sex crap!
b. 3-5. He/She needs variety during sex.
c. > 6. We're into yoga and pilates and sex is a natural forum to express your inner – (Oh my goodness!! Your aura.....it's so beautiful!) - Oh, my! Thank you! You really think so? - (No. Just shut your hippie face and go cleanse your chi or stroke your chakras or whatever. And by the way, “Tantric Sex” isn't really sex.) - ASSHOLE!!
d. > 15. Kama Sutra professional meets gymnast meets nymphomaniac meets meth addict.
What is the best way to spend time with your significant other?
a. Them on one side of the room, me on the other.
b. Out to dinner and a movie then straight to bed for missionary sex – (Ok. Let me be the first to welcome you to the 21^st century where we do it doggie at least once in a while. Jeez.)
c. Running from the law.
d. Sparring partners at the gym. That way I can beat the shit out of them without hearing the authorities prattle on about “domestic abuse”. So annoying.
Complete the following sentence: I love it when my significant other________
a. Goes down on me. Hey, I did the dishes and vacuumed. I got it coming.
b. Showers/Bathes with me. That way I can wash all the crevasses they never seem to clean.
c. Talks dirty to me.
d. Does thoughtful things like brings me flowers and rubs my feet – (Yeah, yeah. You're loved. We get it. But you really should know they only do that crap so they can get head later.)
THE END?

Guamgolia

2011-07-24T13:18:00.000-07:00

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kill_Haole_Day

Some WWII history......and I'm the king of it!

Y'all's sack racing skills are weak.....

Mouth full of braces, awesome glasses, pubescent facial hair......it's a wonder I could cut the teen angst bullshit long enough for a photo.

Where's the best place to catch jungle fever? In the effing jungle, of course!

The Quest for the Sacred Ikea Wind-Up Clock (part 1)

2011-07-24T03:24:00.000-07:00

Facebook Asks Me to Tell the Truth One Hundred Times......

2011-07-24T03:22:00.000-07:00

First a gentle reminder. If you experience any of the following:
Easily hurt and/or compromised feelings
Extreme religious and/or political opinions and mentality
Diarrhea of the mouth while suffering the above afflictions
Please do not read my blog.

If you have an aversion to cursing, violence, sex, destruction of property, having a sense of humor, or Article 19 of The Universal Declaration of Human Rights please do not read my blog.

If you dislike or have difficulty understanding satire/sarcasm, just don't even bother. Nobody likes you anyway.

Awesome blog reading discretion has been advised. Don't be mad, Boo.

WHAT WAS YOUR:

1. last beverage - Homeless orphan tears.

2. last phone call - To my butler to come post my bail

3. last text message - "Don't tell (your name here) that you're coming over tonight, sweetie. From.....oh, I think you know who I got that message from.

4. last song listened to - My ringtone "Jungle Boogie" by Kool & the Gang

5. last time you cried – when the doctor spanked me the day I exited the womb. And only then cause of the trauma of being born, or whatever, and it was fucking cold in that room and he went and threw down on me like that. Asshole.

HAVE YOU EVER:

6. dated someone twice - Nah....I would never subject someone to that kind of torture. Who am I? Jack Bauer? Uh...well technically, yes, but don't tell. Damn it.

7. been cheated on - Sure. But I'm ok with watching karma explosions from afar. They're like pretty non-judgemental fireworks.

8. kissed someone & regretted it - Nope, but I'm sure she did. I'm so bad at it.

9. lost someone special - Nope. She's in the back yard - right where I left her.

10. been depressed - Dude. The Cubs haven't won a world series in over a hundred years. That's some kind of freaky masochistic depression.

11. been drunk and threw up - No, but if I did would you hold my hair and tell me I'm pretty?

LIST THREE FAVORITE COLORS:

12. Old Blood

13. Activated Charcoal (with stomach contents)

14. Prolapsed Uterus

THIS YEAR HAVE YOU: (2011)

15. Made a new friend - Lots of 'em. They're all imaginary, so I don't have to share my stuff with real people

16. Fallen out of love - Like I said: She's in the back yard where I left her.

17. Laughed until you cried - No. I just jump straight to crying with these sorry ass questions.

18. Met someone who changed you - Pretty sure my folks changed me. Things would get messy otherwise.

19. Found out who your true friends were - "True" and "Friends" should never be put in the same sentence. There are two kinds of friends: "Back Stabbers" and "Front Stabbers". I got me some real good Front Stabbers though.

20. Heard of someone talking about you - NO! I'm really dissapointed about that too! I pawned all my spy equipment for a ninja outfit.

21. Kissed someone on your friends list - Shoot. I kissed everybody here. Just not with tounge.....but you know you wanted to.

22. How many people on your friends list do you know in real life - Is this real life, Facebook? Between Mafia Wars and Farmville, I can never tell.

23. How many kids do you want to have - I don't know......they have all those child labor laws now.

24. Do you have any pets - See Episode 9 of my blog. I have two of those.

25. Been grounded - Man, I was grounded the whole time I was 9. In real life.

26. What did you do for your last birthday - I worked. What did you do Facebook? Oh, that's right......only reunited thousands of people with long lost family and friends. Why don't you get a real job?

27. What time did you wake up today - 8:35, 8:44, 8:53, 9:03, 9:12, 9:21, and 9:30. I love the snooze button, but somebody's got to make it longer than nine minutes. It's just cruel.

28. What were you doing at midnight last night - Why? Are the Russians asking questions again? Tell them I was with your mom.

29. Name something you CANNOT wait for - Robot women.

30. Do you have plants - Yeah. They didn't die for once. Who knew they needed water?

31. What is one thing you wish you could change about your life - I should never have started this blog....now I have to finish.....less than a third done......I can only churn out so much bullshit in one sitting.....

32. What are you listening to right now - You're mom cooking me breakfast while I type this up. You have a really nice computer, by the way.

33. Have you ever talked to a person named TOM?.............What do you know about TOM, Facebook?! HUH?! Who told you about him? Do the words "witness protection" mean anything to you? Don't even THINK the name TOM again!

34.What's getting on your nerves right now? Your fucking tone.

35. Most visited website? Oh....change the subject......fine. That's cool. My most visited web site is www.Facebooksucksmynuts.com. How 'bout that?

ABOUT YOURSELF

37. Nicknames? - Dan, Danny, Dan-Dan, DJ, Dan The Man, Dan The Man Who Cooks Spam In The Pan With His Hand, Gringo, White boy, Honky, Haole, Boo, Boo Radley, Stanley, Wayne, Jolly Green Giant, Stephen, Big D, Big Daddy, Doofus, Poopy Butt, Tinman, Santa Claus, HEY NURSE!! (to which I reply "HEY, PATIENT!"), and my all time favorite: Shithead.

38. Relationship Status? - Posessed. By the ghost of Hellen Keller. So speak the fuck up.

39. Zodiac sign? - The Incredible Hulk

40. Male or female? - Look at me. Now look down. Do you see my package? Look over there at the mailbox. Now look down again. Mail this package to the lady who bought it on Ebay. Now look at me. Now look down again. I have a penis. You're a pervert.

41. Elementary? - LAPD instiute of body chalk outlines and graphic design.

42. Middle School? - The Milli Vanilli academy of Lip Syncing and White Boy Dance Moves

43. High school/College? - The Chuck Norris School for Beard Grooming and Fake Kung-Fu / PU

44. Hair color?- It depends greatly on whether or not I'm angry.....you wouldn't like my hair color when I'm angry.

45. Long or short?- What? Attention span?.........um........yes?

46. Height?- Taller than you standing on a stool on your tippy-toes

47. Do you have a crush on someone? - What are you getting at? I know I'm a heavy guy, ok? I'll be careful with these poor fragile women, jeez.

48. What do you like about yourself? - Well, lots of things until I started answering your horrible ego crushing questions.

50. Tattoos? - I'll get a tatoo of the words "I'm Stupid" upside down on my belly. That way when I'm seventy and I think "Why the hell did I ever get a tatoo?" I'll look down and remember why.

51. Righty or lefty? - That depends on which side of your mouth you like to chew your food.

FIRSTS:

52. First surgery? - THAT IS FREAKING CLASSIFIED, DAMN IT!! Why do these questionnaires always ask about that?

53. First piercing? - Pierced a guy's lip with a hole punch one time. Fucker shouldn't have touched my crayons.

54. First best friend? Jenny the Cat. Those damn Guamgolians killed her, that's why I needed the ninja outfit. I seek revenge and everybody knows that revenge is a dish best served cold. In a ninja outfit.

55. First sport you joined? - Baby Seal shot put

56. First vacation? - I take a three week trip to Bosnia every year so the rest of the year at home seems like a vacation by comparison.

58. First pair of trainers? - Hanz und Franz. They were there to pump >clap

RIGHT NOW:

59. Eating - The last of the spahgetti from Episode 6 of my blog. I'm a bachelor, ok? Shit stays in my fridge a long time. Don't judge me.

60. Drinking - Whiskey out of your Mom's navel. Breakfast has been served.

61. I'm about to - smack you in your dirty mouth.

63. Waiting on - These godawful questions to stop.

YOUR FUTURE :

64. Want kids? - I dunno, man. Those child labor laws.....so strict.

65. Get Married? - To who? My Robot woman? I'm not sure if I'm ready for that kind of commitment.

66. Career - I want a job posting real questions for Facebook. Also, questions for dudes, cause these are chick questions. See dude question samples in the section below:

WHICH IS BETTER :

67. Lips or eyes - Hmm. Lips are salty, but eyes have that creamy center. Could we do a cabab thing?
67 (b): Zone or Man coverage?

68. Hugs or kisses - Haven't I warned you about touching me? Perv.
68 (b): Pitcher or DH?

69. Shorter or taller - Depends on whether you prefer no respect or fucked up knees.
69 (b): Guinness or Sam Adams (cause Bud and Miller are just pisswater)

70. Older or Younger - Doesn't matter as long as I get my money.
70 (b): Bonds or McGwire

71. Romantic or spontaneous - Sadistic
71 (b): Blowjob or Handjob

72. Nice butt or nice legs - What happened to boobies?! So important......
72 (b): Strippers or Hookers?

73. Sensitive or loud? - See #70's answer
73 (b): Golf or Bowling?

74. Hook-up or relationship? - Both are potentially hazardous to cash flow, so no.
74 (b): .308 or .223

75. Trouble maker or hesitant? - Whatever gets the job done
75 (b): Online Video Games or Cable Sports Packages

HAVE YOU EVER :

76. Kissed a stranger - Your Mom isn't really a stranger. You should call her more though.

77. Drank hard liquor? I don't really like all this peer pressure

78. Lost glasses/contacts? Yeah. They should be in your room somewhere, if you don't mind looking.

79. Kiss on first date? Again, Facebook, these questions are becoming redundant. #70's answer applies.

80. Broken someone's heart? - I guess if they say so. Shouldn't leave it lying around like that though.

81. Had your own heart broken? - Yeah, but it had it coming. That's why the brain is in charge now.

82. Had a Blind Date? Yes, but she kept running into stuff, so I just left her. Also she wanted to hang onto my arm so I could steer her......and what did I tell you about touching?

83. Turned someone down? - Somehow, I think Salma will get over it.......plus I don't think you really want to talk about the time you got drunk and rubbed your dirty ass on my leg......

84. Cried when someone died? - What am I? Heartless?

85. Fallen for a friend? - Here's how that goes: Front stabbers give you a decent, caring relationship and then "fall out of love". Back stabbers drink all your booze, but give you the best sex before they set something on fire and leave. I'm sticking with my robot woman.

BELIEVE IN:

86. Yourself - Nah. I can lie to myself better than anyone can.

87. miracles - If the Cubs win a World Series in my life time, you can ask me then

88. love at first sight? Sure. Also believing in unicorns and gremlins.

89. heaven? - Hell yeah. Got to be a better place than this shitbox.

90. santa claus? - Shoot, I knew him way back when he was Sinterklaas. Dude owes me 20 euros.

91. kiss on the first date? - What the hell? Do I believe in 'kiss on the first date'? Were you abandoned as a child, Facebook? What is it with you and all the touching and kissing and poor grammar?

92. angels? - Not really. They've been a pretty crap ball club for a while now.

93. ghosts? - Sure. I talk to your Grandma all the time. She says you masturbate WAY too much.

ANSWER TRUTHFULLY:

94. Had more than 1 girlfriend/boyfriend at a time? - Nope. I prefer for the grass to grow over before I move on to the next one.

95. Did you sing today? - Not quite drunk enough.....

96. Are you happy with how your life is going right now? Sure. I just had my breakfast and I got a whole 3 hours to kill before you get home. So life is pretty peeshay (that's French for "peachy")

97.If you could go back in time, how far would you? - Right to the time when you sat down to start writing out these stupid questions, Facebook, so I could smash your nice computer. Then when you asked me why I did it, I'd ask "Do you know who I am?", and since you know the **answer to that question you'd start to cry. The truth hurts, I know..........there, there.

98. If you could pick a day from last year and relive it? - I'm not answering because I see the light at the end of this tunnel and it's just a fucking repeat of the last question. Why does Zuckerberg get all the billions with shit like this going on?

99. Are you afraid of falling in love? - Deathly

100. Posting this as 100 truths? - Whatever makes you happy, Facebook. Just stop with all the touchy feely crap, ok?
** I'm your Daddy.

Luckenbach, Texas

2011-07-23T09:18:00.000-07:00

Writer's Block

2011-07-18T09:45:00.000-07:00

Facebook Asks Me to Tell the Truth One Hundred Times......

2011-07-07T10:41:00.000-07:00

First a gentle reminder. If you experience any of the following:
Easily hurt and/or compromised feelings
Extreme religious and/or political opinions and mentality
Diarrhea of the mouth while suffering the above afflictions
Please do not read my blog.

If you have an aversion to cursing, violence, sex, destruction of property, having a sense of humor, or Article 19 of The Universal Declaration of Human Rights please do not read my blog.

If you dislike or have difficulty understanding satire/sarcasm, just don't even bother. Nobody likes you anyway.

Awesome blog reading discretion has been advised. Don't be mad, Boo.

WHAT WAS YOUR:

1. last beverage - Homeless orphan tears.

2. last phone call - To my butler to come post my bail

3. last text message - "Don't tell (your name here) that you're coming over tonight, sweetie. From.....oh, I think you know who I got that message from.

4. last song listened to - My ringtone "Jungle Boogie" by Kool & the Gang

5. last time you cried – when the doctor spanked me the day I exited the womb. And only then cause of the trauma of being born, or whatever, and it was fucking cold in that room and he went and threw down on me like that. Asshole.

HAVE YOU EVER:

6. dated someone twice - Nah....I would never subject someone to that kind of torture. Who am I? Jack Bauer? Uh...well technically, yes, but don't tell. Damn it.

7. been cheated on - Sure. But I'm ok with watching karma explosions from afar. They're like pretty non-judgemental fireworks.

8. kissed someone & regretted it - Nope, but I'm sure she did. I'm so bad at it.

9. lost someone special - Nope. She's in the back yard - right where I left her.

10. been depressed - Dude. The Cubs haven't won a world series in over a hundred years. That's some kind of freaky masochistic depression.

11. been drunk and threw up - No, but if I did would you hold my hair and tell me I'm pretty?

LIST THREE FAVORITE COLORS:

12. Old Blood

13. Activated Charcoal (with stomach contents)

14. Prolapsed Uterus

THIS YEAR HAVE YOU: (2011)

15. Made a new friend - Lots of 'em. They're all imaginary, so I don't have to share my stuff with real people

16. Fallen out of love - Like I said: She's in the back yard where I left her.

17. Laughed until you cried - No. I just jump straight to crying with these sorry ass questions.

18. Met someone who changed you - Pretty sure my folks changed me. Things would get messy otherwise.

19. Found out who your true friends were - "True" and "Friends" should never be put in the same sentence. There are two kinds of friends: "Back Stabbers" and "Front Stabbers". I got me some real good Front Stabbers though.

20. Heard of someone talking about you - NO! I'm really dissapointed about that too! I pawned all my spy equipment for a ninja outfit.

21. Kissed someone on your friends list - Shoot. I kissed everybody here. Just not with tounge.....but you know you wanted to.

22. How many people on your friends list do you know in real life - Is this real life, Facebook? Between Mafia Wars and Farmville, I can never tell.

23. How many kids do you want to have - I don't know......they have all those child labor laws now.

24. Do you have any pets - See Episode 9 of my blog. I have two of those.

25. Been grounded - Man, I was grounded the whole time I was 9. In real life.

26. What did you do for your last birthday - I worked. What did you do Facebook? Oh, that's right......only reunited thousands of people with long lost family and friends. Why don't you get a real job?

27. What time did you wake up today - 8:35, 8:44, 8:53, 9:03, 9:12, 9:21, and 9:30. I love the snooze button, but somebody's got to make it longer than nine minutes. It's just cruel.

28. What were you doing at midnight last night - Why? Are the Russians asking questions again? Tell them I was with your mom.

29. Name something you CANNOT wait for - Robot women.

30. Do you have plants - Yeah. They didn't die for once. Who knew they needed water?

31. What is one thing you wish you could change about your life - I should never have started this blog....now I have to finish.....less than a third done......I can only churn out so much bullshit in one sitting.....

32. What are you listening to right now - You're mom cooking me breakfast while I type this up. You have a really nice computer, by the way.

33. Have you ever talked to a person named TOM?.............What do you know about TOM, Facebook?! HUH?! Who told you about him? Do the words "witness protection" mean anything to you? Don't even THINK the name TOM again!

34.What's getting on your nerves right now? Your fucking tone.

35. Most visited website? Oh....change the subject......fine. That's cool. My most visited web site is www.Facebooksucksmynuts.com. How 'bout that?

ABOUT YOURSELF

37. Nicknames? - Dan, Danny, Dan-Dan, DJ, Dan The Man, Dan The Man Who Cooks Spam In The Pan With His Hand, Gringo, White boy, Honky, Haole, Boo, Boo Radley, Stanley, Wayne, Jolly Green Giant, Stephen, Big D, Big Daddy, Doofus, Poopy Butt, Tinman, Santa Claus, HEY NURSE!! (to which I reply "HEY, PATIENT!"), and my all time favorite: Shithead.

38. Relationship Status? - Posessed. By the ghost of Hellen Keller. So speak the fuck up.

39. Zodiac sign? - The Incredible Hulk

40. Male or female? - Look at me. Now look down. Do you see my package? Look over there at the mailbox. Now look down again. Mail this package to the lady who bought it on Ebay. Now look at me. Now look down again. I have a penis. You're a pervert.

41. Elementary? - LAPD instiute of body chalk outlines and graphic design.

42. Middle School? - The Milli Vanilli academy of Lip Syncing and White Boy Dance Moves

43. High school/College? - The Chuck Norris School for Beard Grooming and Fake Kung-Fu / PU

44. Hair color?- It depends greatly on whether or not I'm angry.....you wouldn't like my hair color when I'm angry.

45. Long or short?- What? Attention span?.........um........yes?

46. Height?- Taller than you standing on a stool on your tippy-toes

47. Do you have a crush on someone? - What are you getting at? I know I'm a heavy guy, ok? I'll be careful with these poor fragile women, jeez.

48. What do you like about yourself? - Well, lots of things until I started answering your horrible ego crushing questions.

50. Tattoos? - I'll get a tatoo of the words "I'm Stupid" upside down on my belly. That way when I'm seventy and I think "Why the hell did I ever get a tatoo?" I'll look down and remember why.

51. Righty or lefty? - That depends on which side of your mouth you like to chew your food.

FIRSTS:

52. First surgery? - THAT IS FREAKING CLASSIFIED, DAMN IT!! Why do these questionnaires always ask about that?

53. First piercing? - Pierced a guy's lip with a hole punch one time. Fucker shouldn't have touched my crayons.

54. First best friend? Jenny the Cat. Those damn Guamgolians killed her, that's why I needed the ninja outfit. I seek revenge and everybody knows that revenge is a dish best served cold. In a ninja outfit.

55. First sport you joined? - Baby Seal shot put

56. First vacation? - I take a three week trip to Bosnia every year so the rest of the year at home seems like a vacation by comparison.

58. First pair of trainers? - Hanz und Franz. They were there to pump <CLAP> me up.

RIGHT NOW:

59. Eating - The last of the spahgetti from Episode 6 of my blog. I'm a bachelor, ok? Shit stays in my fridge a long time. Don't judge me.

60. Drinking - Whiskey out of your Mom's navel. Breakfast has been served.

61. I'm about to - smack you in your dirty mouth.

63. Waiting on - These godawful questions to stop.

YOUR FUTURE :

64. Want kids? - I dunno, man. Those child labor laws.....so strict.

65. Get Married? - To who? My Robot woman? I'm not sure if I'm ready for that kind of commitment.

66. Career - I want a job posting real questions for Facebook. Also, questions for dudes, cause these are chick questions. See dude question samples in the section below:

WHICH IS BETTER :

67. Lips or eyes - Hmm. Lips are salty, but eyes have that creamy center. Could we do a cabab thing?
67 (b): Zone or Man coverage?

68. Hugs or kisses - Haven't I warned you about touching me? Perv.
68 (b): Pitcher or DH?

69. Shorter or taller - Depends on whether you prefer no respect or fucked up knees.
69 (b): Guinness or Sam Adams (cause Bud and Miller are just pisswater)

70. Older or Younger - Doesn't matter as long as I get my money.
70 (b): Bonds or McGwire

71. Romantic or spontaneous - Sadistic
71 (b): Blowjob or Handjob

72. Nice butt or nice legs - What happened to boobies?! So important......
72 (b): Strippers or Hookers?

73. Sensitive or loud? - See #70's answer
73 (b): Golf or Bowling?

74. Hook-up or relationship? - Both are potentially hazardous to cash flow, so no.
74 (b): .308 or .223

75. Trouble maker or hesitant? - Whatever gets the job done
75 (b): Online Video Games or Cable Sports Packages

HAVE YOU EVER :

76. Kissed a stranger - Your Mom isn't really a stranger. You should call her more though.

77. Drank hard liquor? I don't really like all this peer pressure

78. Lost glasses/contacts? Yeah. They should be in your room somewhere, if you don't mind looking.

79. Kiss on first date? Again, Facebook, these questions are becoming redundant. #70's answer applies.

80. Broken someone's heart? - I guess if they say so. Shouldn't leave it lying around like that though.

81. Had your own heart broken? - Yeah, but it had it coming. That's why the brain is in charge now.

82. Had a Blind Date? Yes, but she kept running into stuff, so I just left her. Also she wanted to hang onto my arm so I could steer her......and what did I tell you about touching?

83. Turned someone down? - Somehow, I think Salma will get over it.......plus I don't think you really want to talk about the time you got drunk and rubbed your dirty ass on my leg......

84. Cried when someone died? - What am I? Heartless?

85. Fallen for a friend? - Here's how that goes: Front stabbers give you a decent, caring relationship and then "fall out of love". Back stabbers drink all your booze, but give you the best sex before they set something on fire and leave. I'm sticking with my robot woman.

BELIEVE IN:

86. Yourself - Nah. I can lie to myself better than anyone can.

87. miracles - If the Cubs win a World Series in my life time, you can ask me then

88. love at first sight? Sure. Also believing in unicorns and gremlins.

89. heaven? - Hell yeah. Got to be a better place than this shitbox.

90. santa claus? - Shoot, I knew him way back when he was Sinterklaas. Dude owes me 20 euros.

91. kiss on the first date? - What the hell? Do I believe in 'kiss on the first date'? Were you abandoned as a child, Facebook? What is it with you and all the touching and kissing and poor grammar?

92. angels? - Not really. They've been a pretty crap ball club for a while now.

93. ghosts? - Sure. I talk to your Grandma all the time. She says you masturbate WAY too much.

ANSWER TRUTHFULLY:

94. Had more than 1 girlfriend/boyfriend at a time? - Nope. I prefer for the grass to grow over before I move on to the next one.

95. Did you sing today? - Not quite drunk enough.....

96. Are you happy with how your life is going right now? Sure. I just had my breakfast and I got a whole 3 hours to kill before you get home. So life is pretty peeshay (that's French for "peachy")

97.If you could go back in time, how far would you? - Right to the time when you sat down to start writing out these stupid questions, Facebook, so I could smash your nice computer. Then when you asked me why I did it, I'd ask "Do you know who I am?", and since you know the **answer to that question you'd start to cry. The truth hurts, I know..........there, there.

98. If you could pick a day from last year and relive it? - I'm not answering because I see the light at the end of this tunnel and it's just a fucking repeat of the last question. Why does Zuckerberg get all the billions with shit like this going on?

99. Are you afraid of falling in love? - Deathly

100. Posting this as 100 truths? - Whatever makes you happy, Facebook. Just stop with all the touchy feely crap, ok?
** I'm your Daddy.

The Brutal Truth About Medical Professionals (And the Crap We Put Up With)

2011-07-03T06:45:00.000-07:00

Dan's Country Style Recipes: Mashed Up Taters

2011-07-03T06:41:00.000-07:00

Mashed Up Taters

Ingreedyants:
5 pound taters
1 pound each uh Provalone and Motzerella cheezes
1 pound bacon
2 - 8 oz stix cream cheeze
1 quart half n' half
1 tubba crumbled Gorgonzola cheeze
Salt n' Peppa (not the band, dummy.......the continents)

Firse, yeh cut dat bacon up inna lil peeces an' start fryin' it inna pan til it gets crunchy. While yer doin' dat, yeh take dem taters an' yeh peel 'em (or don't. However yer Mom an' dem likes it.) Den yeh boil 'em in a pot uh water n' salt til deys a lil mushy. Den yeh take dem taters outta dat water an' put 'em in a big ole bowl an' put all dat cream cheeze in dare an' mash it all up. Chrow yer Motzerella an' yer tubba Gorgonzola cheeze in dare too (not deh tub part, jes deh cheeze part). Den yeh putcher bacon in dare, greese an' all (but don't tell nobody yeh done it dat way cuz dey won't eat it iffen dey know dare's bacon fat in dare. Dunno why. I guess dey's all worried bout dey helf and whatnot.) Den yeh mix n' mash it an' pour in yer half n' half til it's deh desired constituency. Den yeh pore dem taters in a bakin' dish and heatcher oven to tree-hunnert-an-fitty degreez. Top yer taters wif dat provalone cheeze an' bake it fer bout twenny minnits.

Now iffen yeh want dem taters tah be extra good, yeh take an' put 'em in deh fridginator fer deh nite, den yeh take 'em out deh next day an' yeh bake 'em again; den dey's gooder dan when yeh only baked 'em once!!

Please don't eat 'em iffen yeh got deh followin' prollems:

Hypersession
Lack-Toes intollerants
ASHD – Atrificial Sporadic Hard Deseeze
Deh Sugar Diabeetes
Common Cents

Yer Welcome.

A Conversation with a GPS

2011-07-03T06:38:00.000-07:00

Anger: It's not just a reason for bad heavy metal songs.

2011-07-03T06:33:00.000-07:00