SyNONYM

HorseShoe Bay IV

2012-10-31T16:36:00.001-05:00

Valkyrie continued his way through the only hatch connecting aft engineering section whichseparates the forward living and weapons sections. The humm of otherwise inaudible machinery instantly became apparent while the air around him instantly changed from a comfortable 60 degrees to an oil saturated 100 degrees.

Valk looked toward one of his shipmates working near the entrance.
"Spairo?" He shouted attempting to be heard above the loud ambiance.

He pointed down the corridor motioning to the control room.

A tall man Valkyrie proceeded down the passageway hunched over, weaving his head between pipes and cable conduits.

"Hey Quazi Motto, come on in." the muffled voice of Spairo came from behind thick walls of the radiation shielded room.

Valkyrie poked his head through the hatch, where relatively small girl stood poised over a series of gauges, dials, and digital readouts.

"How in gods name did you know I was coming, there’s no way you herd me over the turbine, and this room has no windows."

Spairo straightened herself up and patted the bicep of her old friend.
"A good engineer always knows what’s going on, as for how, that’s a little secret of mine."

"So what ya got for me, its not often you grace your presence back here?"

"More or less nothing, other then the fact were going out for supplies soon, need anything?"

"How about a case of old world brew?, oh wait even better how about a shiny new S8G reactor!"

"In your dreams" valk laughed. "What I'd give for a Cold Mountain Crest Lager. Although have you tried Doc's new concoction?
it will put some hair on your chest for sure."

"Not something I really need then is it?"

"Hey some guys like that sort of thing." The humm of the AC system instantly filled the otherwise awkward silence.

"Wow, Anywayayyy..." Spairo raised his voice just in time to change the subject. "About those supplies."

"Ha Ha, the look on your face"

"Oh no that's why we love ya." Spairo

So off the top of my head we could use any type of clean oil would be nice, Electrical wire at least 14gauge or better, oh any R114 coolant
or anything similar you can find were getting low. Are you going anywhere the NAVY base?"

"Don't know yet, were just getting the plan into action."

"Well let me know if you do, cuz I'll have one long list if you are.

"Tell ya what make that list up for me and We'll hand it off to the away team if they are."

"Fair enough."

"What should I tell Skip about his boat, how's she doin?" Valk.

"Well service air has a leak somewhere, and that electrical fire from last week is still causing grid issues. On second thought you tell my brother to get back here now and then haven't seen him in days."

"Will do, and I'll tell him, thanks Spairo."

"Anytime."

Cockat00's photostream

2012-10-26T18:53:00.001-05:00

Well now I have to figure out some more css and find out why the flickr stream is broken in the interim.

Cockat00's photostream on Flickr.

Exactly how I feel

2011-08-27T14:01:00.002-05:00

I know its been a while, and actually it wont be again but here's something awesome. I know NASA is plagued with federal red tape from here to the moon but there must be ways around it. Also the next book about post apocalyptic earth and Cockat00 is actually starting to take shape.

The Future Of NASA - Watch more Funny Videos

Horseshoe Bay 3

2011-06-27T13:01:00.004-05:00

So I had finished writing the engineer portion of the character introductions which was originally going to be part three, but as soon as I started part 4 the doctor I immediately changed gears and decided to put it out first. I really like this intro as for the first time you really see some personality shining through. So here ya go Part 3.

"Damnit to hell, “I cant work in these conditions. Rust everywhere, broken equipment, for god sake when was the last time the damn x-ray machine didn't irradiate someone half to death, not to mention there's no such thing as a decent...

The skinny doctor known to the officers as 'Papa-kitty' or 'doc' for most of the crew, picked up a tray of semi clean metal instruments and threw it against the wall of his small office. Almost almost sending a scalpel through the tail of his pet cat.

“May as well just grind up some mold growing in the kitchen and hand it out in pill form.”

“First off there’s no mold in the kitchen, and second would that really work?” asked Valkyrie. Who had perched himself against the half open hatchway just in time for the doctor's little show of affection.

“What, oh! Hey!”
Valkyrie opened the hatch the rest of the way and entered the office.

“Having a bit of a bad day are we?” Valk asked setting his clipboard down on the examination chair.

“Oh its probably not that, bad I'm just exhausted, didn’t sleep worth a shit last night, you know how it is.” Doc said.

“Guess so, only I know for a fact you haven’t slept a decent night in months, think all this might be getting to ya?” Valkyrie.
“Hhaaaaaaaaa” he exhausted a long drawn out sigh. I'm probably just bored, for god sake today I treated a shipmate for a damn sprained wrist, that he apparently got while playing guitar hero. Pssh!”

“What about your plants, don't those keep ya busy, how's that little vegetable garden you call medicine doing?”

Papp-akitty noticeably perked up.“Actually not bad I mean with the light rations so low right now its hard to get real fast growth but they’re comin along quite nicely. But then again they do the growing themselves while I sit here and fix hangnails.”

“Ha Ha, I thought you were supposed to be a doctor or something, not a florist.” Valkyrie muttered under a laugh.

“Why can't I be both.”

“Alright doc I'm ending the conversation right here.” He said under another chuckle. “If you want excitement I've got some for ya, cap needs volunteers for a supply run, and having a medic with the group would certainly make finding more volunteers easier. Plus extra rati..”

“Are you kidding sign me up... Wait I get a gun right." Doc.

“Ummm of course, no one leaves the ship with ought a side arm.” Valkyrie.

“Screw that, If I'm headed out there I want a big gun, not some wimpy little pistol, I've seen first hand what those raiders can do!”

“Tell ya what, you sign up and Ill make sure you have the largest gun you can carry.”

“That's more like it!”

“Put your name here Papa.” Valk handed the clipboard to the doctor. “You know your the strangest man I know, the florist doctor who carries a rocket launcher, some one ought to write a book about you.”

Horseshoe Bay II

2011-05-26T17:31:00.003-05:00

I'm proud to say that after a few months of playing and writing my longer story its nearing completion and I will be releasing them periodic eposode format so with ought further a due here is the long awaited boring part two. Mind some of these are not the final versions but are close.

“Alright,” Cockat00 said under a drawn ought sigh, holding his head up toward the just only visible ruins of the old world under the last light of day. “Until tomorrow you magnificent bastard”. A gate sentry closed the hatch illuminating the dark passage with the tell tale red glow of any submarine, and proceeded down the ladder.

“I’m tired Valk, tell the officers no cribbage tonight, I’ll be in my cabin if anyone needs me.”I want the names of those volunteers in the morning. Oh and make sure Peptide has a runabout ready for them.”

Elsewhere in the ship the last few of functional servers hummed with use.

”Actually they’re strained under the workload, It’s amazing they’re running at all.” Nolte said.”I mean considering we haven’t had an overhaul or real replacement parts in months."

“Yeah cap says you’ll be getting those parts soon he’s’ getting together a resupply party and I’m in charge of getting it ready. I need a birthday list of everything you need in here I’m not guaranteeing you’l get everything on it but hell it’s a start for the guys going out.”

“Whose goin?” Nolte spit a brown stream of dip into a half full Perrier Bottle.

Don’t know yet, just started taking names and right now it’s only volunteers. Valkyrie put on his bargain face. “Extra game time rations for those that sign up.”

Nolte started laughing "Oh yeah extra game time does us allot of good when you don’t come back at all and end up in some fiends croc pot.”

“Well your chipper today.”

“I haven’t slept in two days, trying to keep these servers goin, why don’t you come back when you have some parts for me.”

Valkyrie “Fair enough, cap’n says no cards tonight, get some sleep why don’t ya. Your gonna need it.”

Nolte snuffeled and twisted off some screws opening the side of a loud server.

Valkyrie “Suit yourself then.”

“Make sure they bring back good parts this time, the last party brought me a load of half broken shit.”

Valkyrie lifted the dog handles on the door preparing to leave.

“What I really need is a shower.” Nolte mumbled under his voice as the large first officer closed the hatch sealing the cool room to itself. “Bring back some god damn new parts that work.” He yelled as the large steel door swung shut.

HORSESHOE BAY

2011-02-17T17:38:00.001-06:00

Here is a beginning of a project I've been working on. Mind its still in beta but I figured you would all like a taste.

“We're receiving unconfirmed reports the presidents of France, Russia, and the United States, along with the Prime Minister of England and Chairman of China are collaborating to launch their nuclear weapons towards”......

“Authorities are urging everyone to seek shelter as low as possible. If your near a cave system please get to”.....

“Notre Père, qui es aux cieux, que ton nom soit sanctifié, que ton règne vienne, que ta volonté soit faite” …..

“Please Stand by, and for now, God help us all.”

----------------

After the failure of the Willis missions, as a last desperate act, the leaders of the world agreed to send the earths entire nuclear arsenal towards the the comet, in an attempt to alter the it's trajectory.

----------------

“Dammit,” Cockat00 said, crushing the empty pack of cigarettes in his hand “Last one for a while.”

He struck the home made match on the solid steel hatch, and carefully joined the flame to the crooked stick. The sun rarely showed its rays through the thick nuclear dust clouds, but he looked west anyway hoping for a glimmer of light. A small breeze caught the crushed discarded pack and blew it around in small circles. Somewhere in the distance the sound of sporadic gunfire broke the silence.

“Raiders probly,” A voice from behind, his number two in command a heavier set man named Valkyrie. “Sir we need to close up for the night.”

“Just a moment,” Cockat00 said. Taking a longer drag to ensure no tobacco went to waste. He flicked the butt over the rail into the cold water below bouncing off the faded white numbers 739.

“You know we had three more hard drives fail today.” Valkyrie.

“Yeah I know, I read the report.” Cockat00.

“At this rate well be out of replacements within the better part of a month.” Valkyrie.

“Again I know.” The gentle waves broke lightly off the side of the submarine.

“Sometimes I just wish the damn thing would have hit us dead on and put an end to it all. “Start taking names for a landing party, extra game time rations for those who volunteer, and get Dalek to draw up a list of possible sites mot likely to produce parts.”

MST3k Says

2011-02-06T22:06:00.001-06:00

'Project Ka-nif-e'

2011-01-20T14:39:00.002-06:00

Right before Christmas I got it into my brain that I would start the next book, which I have deemed 'Project Ka-nif-e'' consisting of fun and perhaps a few not so fun stories from my many years in Scouting. Call it my de-facto New Years resolution I guess. Anyway I came up with some ideas for chapter progression and what not but after a few days of being really excited about writing the creative part of my brain withered into nothingness. And again I fell back into pretending that I was working on the new book and blog.I then spent a fair about of time complaining with myself and in some cases making shady deals with my brain, in order to coax my psyche into doing more stuff for the blog, but to no avail.

Then came Xmas my sister got me a great journal (I call it a journal but its really a man diary) for writing down stuff. It comes with me most places and it's great because if something pops into the old noggin I can just jot it down (in all honesty thats where these lines are comin from).

Which brings us to the now, 'Project Ka-nif-e'' is finally starting to take shape. Most of the stories I have started so far or that I have at least chosen for the upcoming book have never been posted on the blog, unlike Temba, where half of the stories debuted right there on the web. Some of them have even been works in progress for some years now (one paragraph at a time). In any case now that I'm actually working on it, It's been difficult to single out the stories as there are so many of them. I am mainly focusing on the more comical events but throwing a few serious stories in there. As for the length I'm again shooting towards the length of Temba. I really liked the way you could just sit down and read one chapter and it only took 10 minutes.

So summarizing everything hopefully I get off my lazy ass and get some work out for everyone to enjoy.

Great Short film

2011-01-09T03:44:00.002-06:00

So sorry but no new posts, again I leave you wanting more. In the mean time.

Empty Glass

2010-12-16T11:28:00.002-06:00

My official Star Fleet academy glass sits gingerly upon its 3.5 inch floppy disc coaster, empty.

As most of you know thats not a good sign that generally means the creative part of my brain has gone dormant. It's been that way for part of a month, in all honesty theres tons of stuff going on right now so that may have something to do with it. Although the true culprit is most likely Blizzard entertainment and their new Cataclysm expansion pack for World of Warcraft. You would think I would be completely sick of it now (in all honestly I was beginning to get sick of it a few weeks before the new release) but, with ever changing lore and game play I find myself rejuvenated to play it again. *Note to self make another Warcraft post.*

Something to look forward to though, when my sister comes home for Christmas this year from college we plan on writing a nice post for everyone. I'm really excited about it as she is also quite a good writer hopefully we can come up with something really great.

I've got a little side project in the form of a Lan Party for our great area started which finally, via the evil powers of facebook finally got some attention. http://fonddulan.com. Hopefully with everyones help we can get that baby rolling. Lan parties again as anyone who reads this site are always special events.

In other news

2010-11-29T16:51:00.003-06:00

Today I resumed work on a series of stories about when I was a boy scout. I started writing these stories almost two years ago, but a long set of writers block and another longer set of just not feeling like writing overcame the project. I had intended to originally release all the stories in a small ebook, but now after working on them I think they are perfect candidates for another lulu release. So now I have to switch writing styles from just stuff I end up jotting down for the blog into real material. Perhaps it will end up being an ebook but I'll just keep writing.

In other news I'll be releasing the digital version of Temba for free for a time, of course under creative commons. The printed book of course will remain on lulu. The download will be available on the right side of the blog so if you decided that five bux was to much for you then now will be your chance to grab it for free.

Lastly: The more write the more ideas pop into my mind that being said I encourage any readers to submit their ideas for posts they would like to see here on SyNONYM.

10Base-T

2010-11-17T11:11:00.004-06:00

Twas the night before church day and all through the house not a creature was stirring, wait, who am I kidding, there were ten fifteen year old boys widely stringing internet cable about the family dining room transforming the normally decedent thanksgiving gathering area into land of gaming geekdom. The frilly table cloth had been replaced with an old bed sheet, the tables normal candle light centerpiece now consisted of glowing CRT monitors, and empty pizza boxes. The solid wood floors were squiggled with internet cable and orange extensions cords.

In the corner basking all it's glory sat a single 16 port 10Base-T ten meg wired hub, with no internet, no DNS(computer address assigner, in non nerd terms), no server, just a hub with seven computers attached to it. Nobody had ever heard the term wireless, the preferred operating system was windows 2000Pro, there were no X-Boxes, fancy smart phones, or HDTV's, our mice had balls, there was only one LCD monitor present, and of course there existed no girls (well my sister wanted to play, but we didn't let her, 'No girls allowed we said').

That night a disordered group of social gaming friends and acquaintances had come together in the spirit of virtual competition to create our first real LAN/Computer party. None of us realized it at the time, but with each passing round of Unreal Tournament, Quake, or Starcraft, friendships were being forged.

“Whats the name of the server?” Someone shouted.

“Enter the Cock” I yelled back, an obvious pun on my appointed nickname Cockat00.

“Ok got it, I'm in” The anonymous voice of Peptide replied.

“'Headshot!” Some speakers sounded. “Awww what the fuck, Valkyrie was that you?”

A manly giggle followed by a hand clap sounded off the wooden floor.

“Of course it was, all he ever does is sit in the corner and snipe”. Woody said.

“Yeah to bad he sux at it” Revstan.

“I killed you didn't I?” Valkyrie.

“How do I set my IP?” “Peptide show him, would ya.”...

"TCP or UDP?"...

"Reset the bots to normal."...

"Are we out of pizza?...

And that's how the evening progressed. We taught ourselves how to trash talk one another, drank soda until our bladders bled coke-a-cola, and played until our eyes burned like Tabasco. Not a single person got one minute of sleep that night, and by the time the last bit of information had been transmitted over the network the morning had slipped in to afternoon. With the school day quickly bearing down upon us we unplugged our towers traded AIM/MSN screen names and packed up the cable, trading our games for MS Word and procrastinated homework.

Word of our little event spread around town fast and our little event marked the beginning of what would later turn into Fond du Lan(a great big LAN). Today that group of geeks that came together so many years ago is scattered about the country, but we still play games thanks to the invention of a little thing called the interwebs.

That night has come to be known in our circle as GWLP1 and honestly it holds a very special place in our memories. For most of us it was the first time we had socialized with other gamers in a format which was not the school cafeteria. We were on our own, nobody told us what to do, when to go to bed, or what games to play. Nobody was sitting next to our table making snide comments about our geeky ways. We came together to play games, and that we did.

Had the table not have been solid oak it would have crumbled under the weight of the monitors and and endless stacks of pizza boxes.

Because I have to

2010-11-13T05:14:00.002-06:00

I love the movies, happen to see this on reddit I'm still Laughing.

Nothing Happened

2010-11-10T03:42:00.002-06:00

So I thought I was done with P3 of Hammock Shop, I read through the whole thing and decided that after three revisions, finally, it was crap, just a load of phrases that were supposed to be funny and descriptive. However, in reality they were about as funny as seeing a kernel panic error on your Linux server. So I'm starting again hopefully this time it won't suck. I've got lots of stuff going on right now which may have something to do with my inability to give part three the glory it deserves. So figured maybe I needed a break from doing that project. So I'm gonna start writing some other stuff and come back to Hammock Shop.

I had once again fallen into my time old trance which happens in the early morning hours when I'm writing, only I'm not writing. It look like I'm writing, but I'm not really, the cursor just blinks at me taunting the keyboard for characters, and nothing happens. Minutes pass, the cursor blinks, and the open office document, blank. A movie always plays in the background filling up the empty stillness with some sound. Oddly enough on that particular night the movie Barton Fink, was a picture about a writer who can't get started on his story.

I was about an hour and a half into the movie/writing project when my idea came. I just started working on it and so far it doesn't suck.

Almost

2010-11-04T23:56:00.004-05:00

Hello all,

Been real busy this past week, I wont bore you with the details but part 3 of the hammock shop is almost done look for it soon. So again I leave you with something very funny.

For the Horde

2010-10-24T19:10:00.001-05:00

The spirituous Shaman Cockat00 and the infamous Warrior Bigandnasty stood side by side in honor and brotherhood just as Thrall and Garrosh in the yesteryears.

Ancient primary waters of Nagrand fell from the cliffs of the elemental throne creating a thin mist over the ancestral grounds, the cleansing droplets fell upon the brows of the Horde clan RRPs members, as they waited..

The new formed rust on warriors armor clinked and the ground shuttered under their feet as he lifted a tainted red banner encrusted with insignia of the Horde, and planted it at their feet.

"Let it be known to all present, to those afar, and to the ancestors. My time as your leader has come to an end." The Warrior shouted. "FEAR NOT," for the spirits have come to me and they have told me of a young shaman who shall lead you us victory. "He has stood among you in battle many times, he has healed your wounds, called upon the elements to strike our down foes, and now, he stands before you." "His Name is Cockat00."

The banner fluttered behind them as a calm primal breeze floated through its war tattered cloth. The two Orc's turned to face one another. The mighty warrior lifted his heavy weapon and rested upon the shamans shoulder.

"Gol'Kosh" I relinquish command of the Rubber Room Psychos to you wise shaman, do with them as you wish."

"Swobu" and "Aka'Magosh" to you Bigandnasty. The new leader whispered to his predecessor."You will never be forgotten."

The Two Orcs turned to face their guild.

"From this day forth you will be united under his command." "Hail now your new leader."

"Lok'tar Ogar!"

This was something I wrote quickly for our guild change of command ceremony.

101010

2010-10-19T14:54:00.005-05:00

Working on the last part of the Hammock shop story, its taking a bit, lots of stuff going on this week. So for now I'll leave you with something great. After the awesome paper animation Star Wars Trilogy I've been on a quest to find more, although its not paper its just as awesome.

I'll let you hang the hammock up

2010-10-12T03:36:00.008-05:00

Part 2 of Welcome to the hammock shop

I headed straight for the kitchen, franticly opening and closing drawers, “There must be one here somewhere.”

Mike held up his now half empty bottle from across the room. “Only been here for three minutes and already I'm a half a beer up on you, you're gonna have to do better then that.”

In what seemed an eternity later, “Pay-dirt an opener,” at last I was united with my beloved, completing the circle of life. The festivities could now begin.

The glorious day was filled of the unspoken code, beer was drunk, tobacco was burned, fish were caught, lunch was made, yet as the day came to an end only one task remained. The building of the sacred ancestral signal fire.

Aye but this could be no ordinary fire, it had to be worthy of the gods. Mike and I have fire bugs inside us just as every man does, but despite our extensive time spent in the outdoors we rarely got to partake. Although we were in scouts there was rarely much need for fires that could guide an airplane down, and when the young scouts would inevitably sneak off to build one it was always Mike and I who had to stop them, and give them the Smokey Bear speech. As a result our vast combined knowledge of pyrotechnics went mostly overlooked in favor of smaller cooking fires.

“Hey I could use another beer ya want one?” I asked stacking the final piece of wood atop the log cabin design to complete stage one of the fire.

Chop...Chop...Chop, the sound of Mike's dull axe echoed around the area as he mauled another tree branch into pieces.

Mike turned his head, and tilted it ever so slightly, “Do you really have to ask?” He said.

I thought for a moment “Actually I'll bring down a cooler for us.” I said.

“Don't forget your four beers behind me.” He yelled as I walked up the hill from the fire pit near the waterside to the house atop the hill.

“Not true only three I had one right before we took the boat out and snorkeled to that island,” I yelled back.

Chop...Chop...Chop

I returned a short time later beer cooler in one hand MGD in the other.

“Think this is enough?” He asked. I stared at the faggot (bundle of sticks) Mike had accumulated for us to burn.

“I don't know man we have a reputation to live up to.” I was speaking of course of the infamous campfire of 2007 Mike and I had built at this very same spot. We were told in fact that the blaze was so large, it was clearly visible by the inhabitants on the other side of the lake. Now in our defense I don't remember it being that enormous, but apparently the elderly neighbors thought the sun had come up.

“Dude it's fine the only thing we don't have in there is dynamite.” Mike affirmed.

“Ok, whatever you say ya pansy.” I said, taking a long swig of suds.

“Hey just remember I'm bigger then you, and I'm holding an axe!” He buried the tools head in the nearby stump. I handed him a beer.

And so it was, as light turned to dark our patented log cabin/tepee campfire design came to life. It started just as any fire does one match and a few embers, but it wasn't long before it's radiating heat became so intense we were forced to move our plastic camp chairs back twice in fear they would melt. The conflagration made the traditional roasting of marshmellon impossible until the wee hours of the morning when the beer was nearly gone and the loons had long stopped their song and the night silence fell upon the lake.

Finishing the tasks brought forth in the great unspoken convention a deep befuddled slumber infused its keepers.

Welcome to the Hammock Shop

2010-10-08T03:36:00.003-05:00

PART I

In many practically feeble attempts to find the quickest routes to the scattered bars and Mom and Pop shops that take the place of the super center stores 'Up nort dair A.' I became quite familiar with the the roads of the deep North woods of Wisconsin, a necessity when you only get one day a week away from the Boy Scout Camp. Anyway a few miles from the camp at one of the sparse intersections of roads and alongside the Wolf River there lies a small drab outcropping of civilization. A bar “Bob and Jonis,” “Bear paw” kayak shop/river tube rental shop, and an abandoned once popular diner club. But it's there amongst the faded nothingness where the colors of the rainbow break through the the otherwise gloom of run down buildings, that you will find the Hammock Shop.

It was late July, the week of my birthday to be exact, and again my long time friend Mike and I found ourselves in Northern Wisconsin, in the middle of another uncharacteristically common heat wave of the times. Which was of course made even worse by the fact I was still dehydrated from a birthday celebration the night before. Our parents had been, for the better part of a week, on one of their bi-decade vacations, at a friend of the family's lake house; an old stomping ground of ours, and had invited us up for a night. Presumably to find humor in out shenanigans.

The age-old broken concrete crunched under the weight of our twenty-fourth century chariot, as we came to the end of our journey, Lake Arbutus. We opened the car doors to the tune of Kid Rock's 'All Summer Long' letting the thick clean air seep into our id, we mentally prepared for the night to come.

See when one travels 'up North' with his buddies he enters into an unwritten social contract in which certain undertakings must be completed to fulfill said contract. The contract contains such formalities as burning things, the approved time of 'beer thirty'(or when it's ok to crack open the first drink of the day), fishing obligations, cigar/pipe time, you know... the standards. Then again the contract only has one rule in that each of its parts has no stipulations, only that they must be done.

The car doors shut behind me and my feet touched ground for the first time in three hours, my back cracked relieving the pressure.

Mike and I shared glances through the squiggly heat waves emanating from the roof of my black Ford Focus, and with ought use of a single word we made seemingly choreographed turns towards the trunk, where the beer cooler was.

“Awe man riding shotgun is tough work.” Mike said as the cap of a Spotted Cow Beer hit the gravel driveway and rolled to a stop a few feet away.

“Next time you can drive then.” My hand rifled through the layer of ice packs to the New Castle Brown Ale which occupied the bottom tier of the cooler.

“Hey you volunteered.” A sarcastic Mike said.

“Shit...Hey you got an opener handy?” The top of my beer of course not being a twist off. Knowing a good chance mike had on his sandals with the opener built into the sole.

He just smiled and walked away shaking his head and leaving me to fend for myself.

Frantically I looked for some type of wooden ledge for the ole 'Overboard' beer method, to rid me of the evil round metal which lied between me and my fortune of ale, but to no avail. It had rained that morning and the wood was too damp to preform the procedure.

Moments later a familiar voice.

“You made it!” Our mom's greeted us.

“Yeah we sure did, do you know where I can find a bottle opener?”

New Site Look ++

2010-10-06T22:13:00.003-05:00

Well after a while of working on a new template for the blog its basically ready, and just in time for new stories and content so come back and see the new changes. I was trying to keep the idea of the old template, and well as you can tell this is what I have come up with. One thing that is quite annoying is that the process of adding things, such as the digg story feed. It used to be it had to be done in java or html and added to the code now there is a not entirely great wasiwig gadget thing its a real pain in the ass to use but once I figure it all out it will probly be ok. Well thats all for now.

Still Here.

2010-06-27T11:41:00.004-05:00

As the straight edged puzzle pieces of me begin to form the border of the picture again, I start working on the next book (which I am having a great time thinking about). This also means posting again. I know I know but even as I type this I have tons of stories to tell. So check back now and then.

Tuesdays

2009-12-08T14:01:00.002-06:00

As far back as I can remember.... Us guys have been going out for wings on Tuesdays. Schmitty's Oar House, on the lake just outside of our old time stomping grounds of Fond du Lac Wisconsin. Rain or shine the only thing that kept us away was a bad schedule at work, or when one of us went off to college (of course there were always vacations). There's only one rule, “No Girls Allowed”. Like a tree house full of all you can eat chicken wings, beer, and hot sauce, our booth/table stands as a secret fort.

It didn't matter if you were a geek, jock, whether you had a hundred dollars in your wallet, or you walked in with a piggy bank and a hammer, when you were at Schmitty's on a Tuesdays with a basket of wings and a beer in front of you, you were part of the gang and may as well be a king.

The bar/restaurant is really nothing spectacular. A row of gambling machines complete with (for fun only) stickers line one wall. A big game hunter arcade game sits next to them. A large bar snakes along the other. Down the open walls, the seasons are visible through the windows as well as the lake. Booths line the outside of the eating area while tables make up the middle section. The only art is made of old 'Hamms' and 'Old Style' beer signs. A haze of thin smoke floats above the invisible thermocline flowing out from the bar stools.

Most of the time we're not carded, like Cheers everybody knows our names and what we want. We walk in sit down the waitress all of about twenty and never entirely ugly looking asks.

“Would anyone like anything other than wings?” She should ask.

We could all rename ourselves Norm while were there. Of course everyone has their choice of zest. Ranch, Hot, BBQ, whatever floats your boat. That's really all she has ask.

“What type of sauce?”

Aside from the usual bullshit conversations about work, annoying old girlfriends, the best type of sauce, the proper way to eat a wing, the babe of the day, and weekly life updates, there are few really worth while discussions. And that's exactly the way it's supposed to be.

/* It is just hitting me this is a far change from what going out for wings used to be remember. We've come a long way since hooters during senior year./*

Shiny Toy Guns @ Summerfest

2009-07-06T13:22:00.002-05:00

Great time I went with Dan. Wish Carah was still with the band but here are some snippites from the great preformance.

In other news I am finally starting to get the writing itch again the book sorta burned me out for a while and I have been taking a needed break from writing and doing fun stuff before life kicks in again.

Hoked on Foniks workd for me.

2009-05-01T21:12:00.002-05:00

It was second or third grade, one or the other, or most likely both. To be exactly specific I can't, my memories from that time period are a bit hazy, in retrospect I think did a little to much raspberry ICEE and froze my brain off back in those days.

The hard plastic of the 1970's vintage, multi colored, once size fits all kids chair felt cool against the skin of my short adorned legs. A small crack down the middle of the back restraint pinched my GI Joe t-shirt between is teeth while a bead of sweat rolled off my forehead.

“The next word is magazine, magazine.”

Ok you can do this, sound it out like mom said, I thought to myself.

Mmm agg, maga, magazene. From deep inside my lungs a dull frustrated sigh leaves my mouth, maga, magazene, Yeah magazene. The dull point my No. 2 learners pencil moved over the double wide lines blue and red lines of my K-3 writing pad.

“Is everybody done? Raise your hand if you still need more time. Nobody? Ok then, the next word is pancake, pancake.”

Pan, pankaa, pan, pankake. Yes, got another one no way I am going to have to stay after school learning my spelling words today.

The clock read 11:12, oh man if I can just make it through the rest of this stupid spelling test lunch I'm only two of the big numbers away, and then after lunch recess.

“The word is library, library.”

Libraire. Ha, done, come on teacher give me the hard ones. I so saw mom pack a pizza lunchable and Capri sun for my lunch this morning while I was getting ready. The other kids are going to be so jealous when I open my brand new official Batman lunch-box with pizza lunchable.

“Ambulance, Ambulance” She said.

Ambulanse. This new Fonics thing is really working.

A few years later a new feature was added to a wide variety of word processors, the feature was f7 or spell check.

In keeping secres of...

2009-04-25T23:59:00.002-05:00

Having an extremely difficult day I only wish I could really understand what it is I keep on thinking about. Funny thing is I do understand, but do not have the courage to go through with what I have been thinking about. strangely enough a smile has been forming on my face for the past few hours. I am currently reading through some of my past entries and cringing at how terrible the english and grammar are. But this one is seconds away from being being well I don't even know, still this blog post I wrote some time ago has really hit home this afternoon.

From the vault:
Hail Drops are falling on my head
Saturday, March 19, 2005

Saturday evening Bruce, Sheila, Kim and I decided to go on a double date. The plan was, go out to dinner together and from there the split up and go do whatever it was each us wanted. We took both cars in order to ensure maximum distance and secrecy from the falcon-like eyes of the elders after dinner. I found myself right at home in the Texas based steak house Bruce and Sheila choose BJ

After a brief joke session and the appetizer, which was actually big enough to be a four course meal, I swore to myself and my stomach I was never going to eat again. A seemingly short time later as our waiter brought the salads and soups I wondered if stomach pumps were included as a complementary service for customers. By the time the main course (a 16oz steak) came to the table Mr. Tummy and I were on the verge of a digestive tract breakdown. “Oh lord where are the Tums”. At least I saved some room for the dessert the “ChocTanic.” And oh yes we brought home the doggy bags.

Following our dinner fit for the Hulk, Bruce and Sheila gave us some driving directions to a club entitled Jillians. Not a far drive, Jillians, according to their research it was supposed to be quite the place to hang out. So Kim and I hoped into out sleek Bullet Red…….”Family…….Mini,,,Van””Yeah..”. And headed off, what we did not know was that a very interesting night of laughing, tanning, sitting, and pondering was in order.

Arriving at this Jullians our initial impression was one of good nature. Valet Parking, Neon lights, water fountains, bouncers, tons of clubs, even a live band playing right outside (pretty good might I add) filled the entire area. However our initial impressions were soon filled with feelings of curiosity. Yes there were lots of teenaged kids, but none not a college student was to be seen. And right along intertwined with them were old people. I mean the median age must have been about 40 (as I am sure not a single 40 year old adorned the streets that night). The streets were filled with both the munchkin land-like ambiance of High School kids, and the formaldehyde smell of old people.

A strange place. Kim and I walked around hoping to find a group of college kids and follow them in the shadows to a secret college spot that only college students knew about, but were unsuccessfully disappointed. However along our walk I did get a sun tan from the flamingly bright, as I honestly believe that every guy with a compass that didn’t point to north was out (a.k.a. not straight PPL). It was about that time that Kim and I realized where we were. A perfect place for kids between the ages of 14 and 17, and the grandparents that brought them. Most of the clubs read you must be 21 to enter and the ones that did not require the age were totally filled with ankle biters. We then retreated to the relative safety of Borders to see on the off chance if they had Wil Wheaton's other book “Dancing Barefoot”. Nope guess it’s more of a specialty item. We found a group of street performers and enjoyed their tunes until we decided it would be time enough such that the parents would not wonder why we were home so earyly.

At this point Kim and I both dazed and confused, decided we would be better suited back at home watching a movie of our own choosing. Where we could snuggle without wide eyed staring kids just waiting to yell our “OOOOOOOOhhhhOOOOOO” or the criticism of old people who thought that anything more than holding hands in public is a sin. We drove back in the family mini van over the next fourty minutes to her parents house while made fun of the various weird evening events that had taken place.

Arriving back home we watched “The Rock”and some other movies I really can't remember even watching. The most wonderful 64 hours of my life happened over that weekend, my how I miss them.