Thursday, December 24, 2009
Friday, December 11, 2009
One year and disjointed other happenings.
I've been here one year as of Tuesday, I've been working at the same place as of Thursday. That's the longest time I've been anywhere since I graduated (longer if you count moving betwixt dorm rooms/buildings as "not the same place"). I start getting paid more next week (good thing it's the start of a new pay period) and I couldn't be happier about that. Hurray for $5000 raise! I'm trying to adopt a dog, specifically a border collie, from an animal shelter around here but I haven't heard back from the adoption agency yet, I'm going to play D&D tomorrow... It's like I've established a routine or something. I didn't win anything at the Christmas party this year (same as last year), I spent about 4 hours underwater this week, and my car is slowly (and sometimes not so) falling apart. I learned the scale for bagpipe last week and will hopefully be starting lessons this week. It snowed ~1.5 inches last Saturday and has been alternately warm and freezing this week.
That's all I can think of right now for this episode of "What has been happening with Justin's life". Well, all that I can think of that's fit to share on the internet anyway...
That's all I can think of right now for this episode of "What has been happening with Justin's life". Well, all that I can think of that's fit to share on the internet anyway...
Monday, November 30, 2009
Sometimes you seize the day...
Other times the day seizes you.
Picture this:
There is a large man with a beer gut, a total of three teeth and 11 toes. He stands about 6'6" and weighs a meager 375lbs and his name is Leroy. Leroy has been in prison for the past 10 years and he's startin' to get REEEEEAAAAAL lonely and he thinks you've got a purdy mouth.
Actually, let me take that back. That analogy would imply that I had one big problem, which is patently untrue. Today was more along the lines of this:
You're Joe Pesci trying to break into the McAllister's house while they are on Christmas vacation, but this little twerp has been plunking away at you with his BB gun all evening, and you'd wring the little bastard's neck if you could just get ahold of him, but unfortunately he's turned the entire sidewalk to ice which results in you losing your footing and landing squarely on your ass. Once you finally regain your feet and trap the little twerp in his tree house, as you climb up to administer the coups dé grace, just as you grab the top rung, you realize that it's been cut 3/4 of the way thru and you plummet 10 feet back to the earth. That's what kind of day it's been. Lots of little Kevin McAllister events that add up to one gigantic Leroy of a day.
Picture this:
There is a large man with a beer gut, a total of three teeth and 11 toes. He stands about 6'6" and weighs a meager 375lbs and his name is Leroy. Leroy has been in prison for the past 10 years and he's startin' to get REEEEEAAAAAL lonely and he thinks you've got a purdy mouth.
Actually, let me take that back. That analogy would imply that I had one big problem, which is patently untrue. Today was more along the lines of this:
You're Joe Pesci trying to break into the McAllister's house while they are on Christmas vacation, but this little twerp has been plunking away at you with his BB gun all evening, and you'd wring the little bastard's neck if you could just get ahold of him, but unfortunately he's turned the entire sidewalk to ice which results in you losing your footing and landing squarely on your ass. Once you finally regain your feet and trap the little twerp in his tree house, as you climb up to administer the coups dé grace, just as you grab the top rung, you realize that it's been cut 3/4 of the way thru and you plummet 10 feet back to the earth. That's what kind of day it's been. Lots of little Kevin McAllister events that add up to one gigantic Leroy of a day.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Birthday
I had a birthday, ymmmmhmmm. There was dinner, a circus, coworkers and friends, and Olivia. It was a pretty good time all in all. However, it's become strange to me; I've had my 26th birthday in Tennessee, 25th in Hawaii, 24th in Florida, 23rd in Pennsylvania, 22nd, 21st, 20th, and 19th in New York, and all the preceding ones in West Virginia. I've become accustomed to moving so frequently that nowhere really feels like "home" any more. I think I've mentioned this to some of you faithful readers before, and it still distresses me. I've lived in Tennessee for nearly a year (Dec. 8th it will be) and I'm still not convinced it's home. There's a line in Garden State:
"It's like you feel homesick for a place that doesn't even exist. Maybe it's like this rite of passage, you know. You won't ever have this feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself, you know, for your kids, for the family you start, it's like a cycle or something. I don't know, but I miss the idea of it, you know."
I'm not sure if that's exactly how I feel, but it's pretty close. I'm proud to say that I have friends all over the country, friends that I could count on, but where do I get to stop and have a home again?
"It's like you feel homesick for a place that doesn't even exist. Maybe it's like this rite of passage, you know. You won't ever have this feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself, you know, for your kids, for the family you start, it's like a cycle or something. I don't know, but I miss the idea of it, you know."
I'm not sure if that's exactly how I feel, but it's pretty close. I'm proud to say that I have friends all over the country, friends that I could count on, but where do I get to stop and have a home again?
Sunday, November 8, 2009
More of the same
Pictures of what I've been doing, and nonsense like that.
This Friday we had an aquarist bonfire at our house. Kevin tried to light a giant pile of freshly-cut grass from the yard in order to start said fire, but only ended up generating a lot of smoke and an unpleasant odor. After the addition of nearly half a gallon of lighter fluid, the grass was reluctantly forced to a sullen smolder, but the wood caught fire. Chili was eaten, hot cider and cold beer were drank, and a commotion was raised. Just a small commotion, probably not much more than a toddler, but raised nonetheless.
The next day Olivia and I went to Cade's Cove so that she could get pictures with a gigantic "view camera" that Olde Timey contraption you see in so many Back to the Future scenes. It was rather chilly early in the morning, with frost and all that nonsense, but by late afternoon I was able to fall asleep in a field in shorts and a tshirt while she lugged around that giant contraption on a tripod.
I had a fried apple pie, some jalepeño and peppermint flavored fudge (actually really good), and a pretty good time.
This was just a picture I took while we were out that I liked.
This Friday we had an aquarist bonfire at our house. Kevin tried to light a giant pile of freshly-cut grass from the yard in order to start said fire, but only ended up generating a lot of smoke and an unpleasant odor. After the addition of nearly half a gallon of lighter fluid, the grass was reluctantly forced to a sullen smolder, but the wood caught fire. Chili was eaten, hot cider and cold beer were drank, and a commotion was raised. Just a small commotion, probably not much more than a toddler, but raised nonetheless.
The next day Olivia and I went to Cade's Cove so that she could get pictures with a gigantic "view camera" that Olde Timey contraption you see in so many Back to the Future scenes. It was rather chilly early in the morning, with frost and all that nonsense, but by late afternoon I was able to fall asleep in a field in shorts and a tshirt while she lugged around that giant contraption on a tripod.
I had a fried apple pie, some jalepeño and peppermint flavored fudge (actually really good), and a pretty good time.
This was just a picture I took while we were out that I liked.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
I kicked a puppy
I went running yesterday morning, and on my 3 mile loop, two ladies were walking their dogs. One of these dogs, a small-ish (20-30lb) terrier-looking fellow, decided I was hostile and threatening in my activities, and so proceeded to chase me down the road. He got about 3 feet from me, barking, growling, and generally acting threatening, so I turned around and kicked him in the teeth without stopping. Needless to say, his mistress was less than pleased with me and proceeded to yell such admonishments as "He wann't gonna hurt you none!" and "If I thought he was gon' bite you, I wouldna let him go!"
Regardless of these well researched facts, I felt well justified in defending the integrity of my calf from this excessively aggressive little animal.
Regardless of these well researched facts, I felt well justified in defending the integrity of my calf from this excessively aggressive little animal.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Things of no importance to anyone else.
Today was a good day. I mean, it was on par with saving a bus load of children from careening off a cliff at high speeds using nothing but rocket-propelled roller skates, a pneumatic grappling hook, and sheer manly courage. It was that good. I made pizza. A very thick, double deck pizza. There were too many toppings, and they simply could not be allowed to go to waste, so after assessing the situation, I decided that another layer of peppers, sausage, onion, mushroom, and pineapple could be added. When looking at that, it was determined that they would fall off unless they were held in place by another layer of cheese, so that simply had to be put on as well.
After the pizza there were cookies. So many cookies I cannot express. Chocolate cookies with mint chips and walnuts, and chocolate chip cookies with walnuts, and some with a little bit of both swirled in. I ended up eating so much that I had to be dragged across the floor, out of the kitchen, and then slowly work my way up onto the couch. There may or may not have been a brief food coma.
And I got to do all this with this strange, warped, smart, very cute girl that likes to be around me. She was even the one who dragged my fat ass out of the kitchen to the couch. By the way, if you're curious and I haven't already told you, her name is Olivia.
After the pizza there were cookies. So many cookies I cannot express. Chocolate cookies with mint chips and walnuts, and chocolate chip cookies with walnuts, and some with a little bit of both swirled in. I ended up eating so much that I had to be dragged across the floor, out of the kitchen, and then slowly work my way up onto the couch. There may or may not have been a brief food coma.
And I got to do all this with this strange, warped, smart, very cute girl that likes to be around me. She was even the one who dragged my fat ass out of the kitchen to the couch. By the way, if you're curious and I haven't already told you, her name is Olivia.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
County fair: Lancashire, England 1987
Raucous children ran about underfoot, and the smell of fried foods floated heavily on the air. The jeering taunts of the clown at the dunk tank cut through the noise and the smells like a siren: a wheedling, irritating, obnoxious siren. A sign painted in garish turquoise and magenta hung next to the tank, with the words "Dunk him and WIN!" emblazoned boldly across it in large print.
"Come on up, slugger! Have a go!"
"Hey stretch, if your ears get any bigger, you're going to blow away!"
"Muscleman! Hey, Muscleman! show that pretty lady what you're made of!"
One by one, the marks on the midway stepped up to hurl that tiny white sphere at the even tinier target of red and white in hopes of sending the abrasive fellow into the ice cold water that waited below his precarious perch.
A slender young man with barely a wisp of a beard stepped up to the table and handed the man behind the sign a wrinkled and damp one pound note, and received three small balls in return.
"Ooooh! Look out ladies and gentlemen, we got Goliath in the house this evening!"
Without responding, the young lad rolled the ball back and forth in his hand for a second, and then, without a warning or windup, he whipped it toward the far end of the range, where it rang soundly as it smacked into the minuscule target, snapping it back and sending the clown plunging into the chilled tank.
After the splashing and applause stopped, the clown climbed back out of the tank, reset the mechanism, and climbed back onto his perch.
"Lucky shot! Lucky shot! I hear lightning never strikes twice in the same spot. Let's see what you've got there, Zeus!"
Whiz! Clang! Sploosh!
The clown went swimming a second time as more cheering and laughter erupted from the onlookers.
The mechanism was reset, the ball thrown again, and for a third time, the icy water doused the red wig perched atop that heavily made-up face as the ringing sound of leather on metal echoed across the field.
The man behind the table leaned toward the rack of prizes and began to pull one of the smallest stuffed animals from the bottom shelf, but the boy shook his head, reached into his pocket, and pulled out another badly beaten one pound note and handed it to the sweaty faced vendor. He took the three balls, and one by one, used them to send the now soaked clown plunging into the water again, and again, and again.
Again, he shook his head after being offered his choice of prizes off the middle shelf, handed in another pound, accepted the three balls in return, and thrice more sent them hurtling accurately toward the target eliciting three more angry splashes from the man on the mechanism, who now had thick white make up and bright red lipstick running down his face in rainbow-hued rivulets.
Again the choice of prizes was declined, despite the offer of those elusive treasures housed on the top shelf, seldom liberated by any hand.
Again, the exchange of money for three more white spheres, and again they flashed, straight and true to their target. Silence had fallen over the gathered spectators by this point, the clown had stopped his heckling and was struggling simply to stay afloat and breathe, while the man behind the table watched with a mixture of awe and anger. After the fifth encore performance, the ire of the man behind the counter was clearly roused, and he refused to sell the young man any more missiles. He simply waved his hand toward his wares and mumbled "Whatever you want..."
The slender young man looked for a second, and carefully pointed at the old balding man's beautiful young daughter. "Her." was all anyone heard him say. The old man didn't even lift a hand to stop her as she walked toward her champion, took hold of his hand, walked past her father, past the sodden clown, past the stunned and silend onlookers, and out of the fairgrounds. They were never seen again.
"Come on up, slugger! Have a go!"
"Hey stretch, if your ears get any bigger, you're going to blow away!"
"Muscleman! Hey, Muscleman! show that pretty lady what you're made of!"
One by one, the marks on the midway stepped up to hurl that tiny white sphere at the even tinier target of red and white in hopes of sending the abrasive fellow into the ice cold water that waited below his precarious perch.
A slender young man with barely a wisp of a beard stepped up to the table and handed the man behind the sign a wrinkled and damp one pound note, and received three small balls in return.
"Ooooh! Look out ladies and gentlemen, we got Goliath in the house this evening!"
Without responding, the young lad rolled the ball back and forth in his hand for a second, and then, without a warning or windup, he whipped it toward the far end of the range, where it rang soundly as it smacked into the minuscule target, snapping it back and sending the clown plunging into the chilled tank.
After the splashing and applause stopped, the clown climbed back out of the tank, reset the mechanism, and climbed back onto his perch.
"Lucky shot! Lucky shot! I hear lightning never strikes twice in the same spot. Let's see what you've got there, Zeus!"
Whiz! Clang! Sploosh!
The clown went swimming a second time as more cheering and laughter erupted from the onlookers.
The mechanism was reset, the ball thrown again, and for a third time, the icy water doused the red wig perched atop that heavily made-up face as the ringing sound of leather on metal echoed across the field.
The man behind the table leaned toward the rack of prizes and began to pull one of the smallest stuffed animals from the bottom shelf, but the boy shook his head, reached into his pocket, and pulled out another badly beaten one pound note and handed it to the sweaty faced vendor. He took the three balls, and one by one, used them to send the now soaked clown plunging into the water again, and again, and again.
Again, he shook his head after being offered his choice of prizes off the middle shelf, handed in another pound, accepted the three balls in return, and thrice more sent them hurtling accurately toward the target eliciting three more angry splashes from the man on the mechanism, who now had thick white make up and bright red lipstick running down his face in rainbow-hued rivulets.
Again the choice of prizes was declined, despite the offer of those elusive treasures housed on the top shelf, seldom liberated by any hand.
Again, the exchange of money for three more white spheres, and again they flashed, straight and true to their target. Silence had fallen over the gathered spectators by this point, the clown had stopped his heckling and was struggling simply to stay afloat and breathe, while the man behind the table watched with a mixture of awe and anger. After the fifth encore performance, the ire of the man behind the counter was clearly roused, and he refused to sell the young man any more missiles. He simply waved his hand toward his wares and mumbled "Whatever you want..."
The slender young man looked for a second, and carefully pointed at the old balding man's beautiful young daughter. "Her." was all anyone heard him say. The old man didn't even lift a hand to stop her as she walked toward her champion, took hold of his hand, walked past her father, past the sodden clown, past the stunned and silend onlookers, and out of the fairgrounds. They were never seen again.
Friday, October 2, 2009
What has Justin been up to?
Well, I'm glad you asked. Even if you didn't, the fact that you're reading this indicates that you're curious anyway. I started drawing again...kind of. At least, I've done one drawing, the first one in a very long time.
It's called "Poi at rest" if you like those boring names that describe what is in the picture. If, like me, you find those names pedestrian and prosaic, it's called "Excuse me, but your goat is in my petunias". It was drawn in honor of the Fall Wildfire going on this weekend that I am currently missing.
Also, I've been doing some hiking, some of it with a young lady of questionable taste (she's going hiking in the woods with me after all), and recently we went up the Ramsay Cascade trail, a 4 mile trip that starts out as an easy jaunt up a mild incline, and then after a mile and a half, turns into a vertical death march up a narrow trail with boulders and roots everywhere.
(Headed up the trail)
(View of the stream below the falls)
We managed to make it up in 90 minutes, eat lunch at the top of the falls, and then it proceeded to rain. Steadily.
(View from the bottom of the falls)
The trip back down was much wetter and considerably faster, but there was a certain amount of intentional puddle splashing, tree shaking (I got hit in the head with a branch), and mud.
(View in the rain from a bridge over the stream)
In addition, since it is now October, and Halloween is rapidly approaching, I went all Jack(Skellington) O' Lantern-y.
(My pumpkin)
And to finish it off, here is a view across the valley from my back porch at the new house.
(A little dark, but the colors are better)
These pictures brought to you courtesy of the new SD card reader I bought to replace the USB cable for my camera that I lost. If you Boston guys happen to have noticed a Canon USB cable, it might be mine, it's been missing since Spring Wildfire.
It's called "Poi at rest" if you like those boring names that describe what is in the picture. If, like me, you find those names pedestrian and prosaic, it's called "Excuse me, but your goat is in my petunias". It was drawn in honor of the Fall Wildfire going on this weekend that I am currently missing.
Also, I've been doing some hiking, some of it with a young lady of questionable taste (she's going hiking in the woods with me after all), and recently we went up the Ramsay Cascade trail, a 4 mile trip that starts out as an easy jaunt up a mild incline, and then after a mile and a half, turns into a vertical death march up a narrow trail with boulders and roots everywhere.
(Headed up the trail)
(View of the stream below the falls)
We managed to make it up in 90 minutes, eat lunch at the top of the falls, and then it proceeded to rain. Steadily.
(View from the bottom of the falls)
The trip back down was much wetter and considerably faster, but there was a certain amount of intentional puddle splashing, tree shaking (I got hit in the head with a branch), and mud.
(View in the rain from a bridge over the stream)
In addition, since it is now October, and Halloween is rapidly approaching, I went all Jack(Skellington) O' Lantern-y.
(My pumpkin)
And to finish it off, here is a view across the valley from my back porch at the new house.
(A little dark, but the colors are better)
These pictures brought to you courtesy of the new SD card reader I bought to replace the USB cable for my camera that I lost. If you Boston guys happen to have noticed a Canon USB cable, it might be mine, it's been missing since Spring Wildfire.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Dammit...
Go ahead. Laugh at me. I'll still deny that I have a type, but lately I seem to have found myself going on several dates with a competitive tall blond girl.
I hate you all.
I hate you all.
Friday, September 4, 2009
New News
Well, we moved into our house last weekend, and I would have said so earlier, but we were without internet for a WHOLE WEEK! (I know, crazy, right?) So for those of you who care, my new address is
1026 W. Union Valley Rd
Seymour, TN
37865
So that wonderful. No tiny, cramped apartment. I also have a bed now too.
On the other hand, my grandfather died two days ago. I feel bad because I missed the last two Thanksgivings and Father's Days which were always a time when my family would get together and he would always be there. I don't think I'll be going to his funeral because that's not how I want to remember my Pappy. I remember waking up early in the morning and going out to the kennel to help him feed his dogs, or him putting me on the pony, Magic, and giving me a ride (even tho I'd been riding my own for quite some time, this was a new horse, so it was wonderful). He'd let me play with all the new puppies from every litter his dogs had, and even kept my favorite dog to use as a breeder so that I could always play with him whenever I'd visit. He was a tall man (if not quite so tall as I) and even after 90 years you could still see that he'd been a farmer. That is how I want to remember him. That was Pappy.
So that sucks.
1026 W. Union Valley Rd
Seymour, TN
37865
So that wonderful. No tiny, cramped apartment. I also have a bed now too.
On the other hand, my grandfather died two days ago. I feel bad because I missed the last two Thanksgivings and Father's Days which were always a time when my family would get together and he would always be there. I don't think I'll be going to his funeral because that's not how I want to remember my Pappy. I remember waking up early in the morning and going out to the kennel to help him feed his dogs, or him putting me on the pony, Magic, and giving me a ride (even tho I'd been riding my own for quite some time, this was a new horse, so it was wonderful). He'd let me play with all the new puppies from every litter his dogs had, and even kept my favorite dog to use as a breeder so that I could always play with him whenever I'd visit. He was a tall man (if not quite so tall as I) and even after 90 years you could still see that he'd been a farmer. That is how I want to remember him. That was Pappy.
So that sucks.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Disuse
We've gotten bad. Not a single one of us has posted anything new in a bit, and I'm sadly out of touch with everyone else. Things here are getting on. My roommate (kind of) bought a house, and so since his "Plan A" fell thru, as Plan A's tend to do, Plan B is that we move, and I pay him rent which he puts toward his mortgage. My theory is that 'tis better to help someone you know than just pay rent to some landlord. (Esp. since I have bad luck with them) Life in Tennessee is... typical. It's still Summer, so tourism is still kicking. We have to drive thru crazy traffic to get home, but there's no rush since it's still 80 degrees by the time we get back. I've gone running, or biking, or swimming almost every day for the past 3 weeks, even if I have to wait until 6 o'clock for it to cool off enough. Life has fallen into a routine, and I think I might have to mix things up a little bit, but I'm not sure how. Something will come. Maybe I'll start a community class on building useless but entertaining things out of cardboard.
Infinite
In the dark, how far away is the sky?
Can you reach up and touch it
Or is it infinitely distant?
Silhouetted in the night
A shadow against the stars
If you stand perfectly still you can almost
Fly
The horizon
Where the stars touch the Earth
Caressing her skin
If you listen, you can hear your heartbeat
Feel your breath catch and know
There are only two options
You can fall or you can fly
If you stare, you could be pulled
Your feet would leave the ground
Which?
I
Do not
Fall
Can you reach up and touch it
Or is it infinitely distant?
Silhouetted in the night
A shadow against the stars
If you stand perfectly still you can almost
Fly
The horizon
Where the stars touch the Earth
Caressing her skin
If you listen, you can hear your heartbeat
Feel your breath catch and know
There are only two options
You can fall or you can fly
If you stare, you could be pulled
Your feet would leave the ground
Which?
I
Do not
Fall
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Burly burlesque
I went to a burlesque show in Knoxville last night. I spent several minutes lost because the place, "Sassy Anne's" was down a tiny side street in what looked like a residential section. Sassy Anne's turned out to be a tiny, 3 story bar with a balcony-like upper floor that looked down onto the 2nd floor and an impromptu stage. They had World Book Encyclopedias from 1952 scattered about and giant cogs and gears on the wall along with prohibition signs and other similar 1930-60's memorabilia. I was encouraged.
Sadly, the show itself was less than spectacular. The performances were not even on par with your typical Barefoot Monkeys after-party, and they fell far short of a typical Aural Pleasure or Hot Chocolate offering. The performers themselves were all of the type that could most politely be described as "curvy", but would more accurately be said to be "burly".
All in all, it is encouraging to know that such things occur around here, but this particular show fell far short of my hopes.
Sadly, the show itself was less than spectacular. The performances were not even on par with your typical Barefoot Monkeys after-party, and they fell far short of a typical Aural Pleasure or Hot Chocolate offering. The performers themselves were all of the type that could most politely be described as "curvy", but would more accurately be said to be "burly".
All in all, it is encouraging to know that such things occur around here, but this particular show fell far short of my hopes.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Wreck of the Scumby Thooner
In swamy spring did we tithe and tyre
A young man's fortune to the waves
Followed we fortunes fickle and dire
That sent men to their graves
With Gyre and Gimble at my side
Stroth then, this fellowship of three
And struck our course with pride
We set forth t'ward the sea
In Mungy Port had we no sooner
Broke backs to grimful toil and labor
Then docked a ship, the Scumby Thooner
A brutish coursing saber
All precarious and intriguing now
Our futures were soon seeming
This vessel had upon its bow
A maiden with hair streaming
Took we then jobs as men o' the line
To fight for God and Nation
A corsair's life is one that's fine
This was to be our station
Across the sea and down the main
Searched our crew for plunder
'Til in summer off the coast of Spain
Came echoing peals of thunder
'Twas nightfall 'fore the storm did break
And tossed the Scumby Thooner
Debris floated in our wake
And lower rode our schooner
'Neath Heaven our heathen hides
Toiled long into the night
Above Hell we fought against the tides
In hopes to stay our plight
Before the dawn could come to hand
We'd run against a shoal
As wreckage flew, we swam for land
But few men reached the goal
And as pale light broke across the sky
To notes of angelic choir
Standing fast and true we heaved a sigh
Myself and Gimble and Gyre
A young man's fortune to the waves
Followed we fortunes fickle and dire
That sent men to their graves
With Gyre and Gimble at my side
Stroth then, this fellowship of three
And struck our course with pride
We set forth t'ward the sea
In Mungy Port had we no sooner
Broke backs to grimful toil and labor
Then docked a ship, the Scumby Thooner
A brutish coursing saber
All precarious and intriguing now
Our futures were soon seeming
This vessel had upon its bow
A maiden with hair streaming
Took we then jobs as men o' the line
To fight for God and Nation
A corsair's life is one that's fine
This was to be our station
Across the sea and down the main
Searched our crew for plunder
'Til in summer off the coast of Spain
Came echoing peals of thunder
'Twas nightfall 'fore the storm did break
And tossed the Scumby Thooner
Debris floated in our wake
And lower rode our schooner
'Neath Heaven our heathen hides
Toiled long into the night
Above Hell we fought against the tides
In hopes to stay our plight
Before the dawn could come to hand
We'd run against a shoal
As wreckage flew, we swam for land
But few men reached the goal
And as pale light broke across the sky
To notes of angelic choir
Standing fast and true we heaved a sigh
Myself and Gimble and Gyre
Friday, July 3, 2009
They all have unfortunate initials
Phineas Michael Simpson had an unfortunate monogram. As a child, he was tormented relentlessly by the older boys because of this and for this reason he was a bitter and angry young lad. At the age of 14 he'd taken a Wiffle™ bat and bludgeoned the leader of his tormentors, Webster Anders Smythe-Pennings, into the emergency room. Twenty-five stitches, a course of vicodin, and two weeks later, Webster repentantly approached Phineas and begged his forgiveness. Phineas laughed in his face and kicked him in the balls.
Webster was a man of few words. This was due to a speech impediment he'd developed as a teenager. Realize, gentle reader, that most speech abnormalities manifest with the acquisition of language, but Webster's particular trouble stemmed from the fact that he'd bitten part of his tongue off during a schoolyard brawl during his formative years, and this had given him a noticeable lisp that had made him extremely shy and hesitant to talk to girls. The only woman he'd ever felt comfortable around was Maryanne. Webster had met Maryanne at the Youth Christian Camp he had been forced to attend by his parents. Maryanne had been the reason Webster had entered Seminary School at the age of 18, but he had not seen her for more than eight years. It's sad sometimes, how childhood loves slip out of our lives almost unnoticed.
Maryanne Ooglethorp Pree looked at her watch. She swore angrily, stomped on the clutch, shifted into fifth gear, and gunned the engine of her old but trustworthy Chevelle. She had less than seven minutes to get to where she needed to be. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she considered how angry people would be if she were even thirty seconds late. It didn't bear thinking about, so she pressed her foot even more firmly toward the floor and coaxed a few more RPM out of the roaring engine and a few more MPH out of the drive shaft. Sweat trickled down her temple and her teeth clenched together. She heaved a sigh of relief as she pulled into the parking lot outside the bank just in time to see the glass doors explode outward in a shower of shimmering shards and three men in black coats run out. She'd been in time.
Webster was a man of few words. This was due to a speech impediment he'd developed as a teenager. Realize, gentle reader, that most speech abnormalities manifest with the acquisition of language, but Webster's particular trouble stemmed from the fact that he'd bitten part of his tongue off during a schoolyard brawl during his formative years, and this had given him a noticeable lisp that had made him extremely shy and hesitant to talk to girls. The only woman he'd ever felt comfortable around was Maryanne. Webster had met Maryanne at the Youth Christian Camp he had been forced to attend by his parents. Maryanne had been the reason Webster had entered Seminary School at the age of 18, but he had not seen her for more than eight years. It's sad sometimes, how childhood loves slip out of our lives almost unnoticed.
Maryanne Ooglethorp Pree looked at her watch. She swore angrily, stomped on the clutch, shifted into fifth gear, and gunned the engine of her old but trustworthy Chevelle. She had less than seven minutes to get to where she needed to be. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she considered how angry people would be if she were even thirty seconds late. It didn't bear thinking about, so she pressed her foot even more firmly toward the floor and coaxed a few more RPM out of the roaring engine and a few more MPH out of the drive shaft. Sweat trickled down her temple and her teeth clenched together. She heaved a sigh of relief as she pulled into the parking lot outside the bank just in time to see the glass doors explode outward in a shower of shimmering shards and three men in black coats run out. She'd been in time.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Break in
Somebody broke into my apartment this morning.
Now that I have your attention, turns out that culprit was none other than yours truly. I had to do my laundry after my 11 day vacation in New England, but I didn't have cash to run the machines. So, naturally, I decided to do some grocery shopping so that I'll have food and get some cash back. After returning from the grocery store, putting my newly acquired food into the refrigerator, locking the door, and closing it behind me, I realized that I'd left my keys on top of the refrigerator just as the click of the closing latch sounded. Swearing commenced. After a moment of quick thinking, I pried the screen off of the window to my bedroom and tried to lever the glass open. Turns out that I'd left my window locked. So had my roommate. And the window in the living room. As desperation began to set in, I decided to try a tactic that had stood by me many times in the past: a credit card. Fortunately the door to our apartment opens inward and I was able to jimmy the door open in about half a second flat, get my keys, go do laundry, go for a run, and get all of this done before noon. Hurray for productivity. Hurray for only semi-legal skills.
Now that I have your attention, turns out that culprit was none other than yours truly. I had to do my laundry after my 11 day vacation in New England, but I didn't have cash to run the machines. So, naturally, I decided to do some grocery shopping so that I'll have food and get some cash back. After returning from the grocery store, putting my newly acquired food into the refrigerator, locking the door, and closing it behind me, I realized that I'd left my keys on top of the refrigerator just as the click of the closing latch sounded. Swearing commenced. After a moment of quick thinking, I pried the screen off of the window to my bedroom and tried to lever the glass open. Turns out that I'd left my window locked. So had my roommate. And the window in the living room. As desperation began to set in, I decided to try a tactic that had stood by me many times in the past: a credit card. Fortunately the door to our apartment opens inward and I was able to jimmy the door open in about half a second flat, get my keys, go do laundry, go for a run, and get all of this done before noon. Hurray for productivity. Hurray for only semi-legal skills.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Unconventional Pirate
After losing his leg to a falling beer keg
The pirate spent a week as a gimp
The doctor did say in a cheerful way
You'll soon walk again with a limp
The candle burned bright all thru the night
And with sunrise begins our story
Of the corsair with the curly hair
Who walked his way to glory
Now the truth be told, if I may be so bold
He was man not without charm
And many a lass did find his company sublime
And paraded about on his arm
Where once was his leg instead of a peg
Our hero walked with the aid
Of a new limb crafted on whim
From the haft of a garden spade
Now in all the land I've found naught a man
(You'd better believe me, I've tried)
Who'd found more treasure while walking with leisure
Digging for gold with every stride
Now if you've no quarrel, I'll tell you the moral
Of this tale without woe
Treasure can be found in places abound
If we just look where ever we go
Dedicated to...well, you know who. And if you don't, you'll know him if you ever meet him.
The pirate spent a week as a gimp
The doctor did say in a cheerful way
You'll soon walk again with a limp
The candle burned bright all thru the night
And with sunrise begins our story
Of the corsair with the curly hair
Who walked his way to glory
Now the truth be told, if I may be so bold
He was man not without charm
And many a lass did find his company sublime
And paraded about on his arm
Where once was his leg instead of a peg
Our hero walked with the aid
Of a new limb crafted on whim
From the haft of a garden spade
Now in all the land I've found naught a man
(You'd better believe me, I've tried)
Who'd found more treasure while walking with leisure
Digging for gold with every stride
Now if you've no quarrel, I'll tell you the moral
Of this tale without woe
Treasure can be found in places abound
If we just look where ever we go
Dedicated to...well, you know who. And if you don't, you'll know him if you ever meet him.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Proper upbringing
When I was a child I asked my mother
What she thought I should be
She looked at me and then she said
Whatever will make you happy
Be a carpenter or a farmer
Or a man who sails on the sea
She said I should be whatever I want
For the only one I must answer to was me
As an older lad much grown in size
I asked my father what would happen to me
I was told to become a man of conviction
Unafraid to become strong and free
A man who wasn't ashamed to do things
That all the world would see
He told me to be whatever I want
For the only one I must answer to was me
Mother and Father I thank you both
From you I learned I must be
A man who is strong-willed and stubborn
Unafraid to do things that people would see
I'm not a carpenter nor farmer nor man of fame
But a man who is proud and free
I am what I want and the only one
I must answer to is me
What she thought I should be
She looked at me and then she said
Whatever will make you happy
Be a carpenter or a farmer
Or a man who sails on the sea
She said I should be whatever I want
For the only one I must answer to was me
As an older lad much grown in size
I asked my father what would happen to me
I was told to become a man of conviction
Unafraid to become strong and free
A man who wasn't ashamed to do things
That all the world would see
He told me to be whatever I want
For the only one I must answer to was me
Mother and Father I thank you both
From you I learned I must be
A man who is strong-willed and stubborn
Unafraid to do things that people would see
I'm not a carpenter nor farmer nor man of fame
But a man who is proud and free
I am what I want and the only one
I must answer to is me
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Love Potion Number 9.1
The gentle tinkling of the bell carried well in the hush of the dimly lit shop. Strange objects covered the walls: a stuffed owl stared back at me from the top of a large glass-fronted cabinet, there was a dried and pungent strand of some gray/green rope that I could only assume was a mummified sea snake hanging in the corner, and a round table covered with a colorful tablecloth stood next to some cabinets and a sink, and placed precisely in the center of the table was an incense burner that must have been made from an alligator's skull.
The bizarreness of the surrounds did not prepare me for the woman who emerged from the back room. She was a very short woman, no more than five feet tall, and well into her late sixty's. She wore a floral summer dress, and her hair hung down just past her shoulders. She was a bastion of normalcy in this exceptionally strange room. When she saw me, she grinned and I could see a flicker of gold crowns reflecting the light off her teeth.
She seated me at her table and gave me a cup of tea, and before I knew it, I was telling her all about Sarah, the long string of pleasant girls after her, and all the problems I'd been having for the past two years. She nodded sympathetically, and after my cup of tea was finished, she took it from me, upended the cup over her napkin, and proceeded to stare at the leaves as they sat there looking exceptionally brown and wet. After a moment of staring, she took my hand and pulled it closer to her eyes and carefully examined my palm, all the while mumbling to herself and gesturing with her other hand.
A knowing smile creased her face, and again I saw the flicker of her gold teeth. She hopped off her stool, winked at me, and turned around to face the cabinets behind her and proceeded to open every single one of them and pull out numerous unlabeled bottles of liquid from their depths. A powerful astringent smell filled the room as she proceeded to pour one bottle after another into her porcelain sink, and the clear liquids obeyed the rules of some strange alchemy and turned an inky black color. She grabbed a bottle off the shelf next to her, filled it with the strange concoction, and handed it to me.
I looked nervously at the bottle, but I'd come this far, and there was no turning back now. I nervously pinched my nose shut, closed my eyes, and took a drink. At first nothing happened, but after a few seconds, a tingling started behind my eyes, my knees went rubbery, and I put my hand on the table to steady myself. As soon as the world stopped trying to spin away from me, began to feel incredibly light and joyous. My troubles were gone, and I was hornier than a bunny on a week long Viagra bender.
I bent down, picked up Madame Ruth, and planted a kiss firmly on her old-lady cheek. I grabbed the stuffed owl, and kissed it. Hell, I even kissed the mummified sea snake on my way out the door, as the old woman's laughter followed after me out into the sunlight! Outside, people were on their lunch break, and I'd never been happier in my life! I kissed random strangers on the cheek, shook every man's hand, and laughed like a lunatic!
I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around to face an extremely pretty lady. I thought perhaps she wanted a kiss as well, so I bet my face to hers, and just as I kissed her, I felt cold metal close around my wrists and my bottle of inky black liquid tumbled to the concrete and shattered. I was pressed face-first against the nearest car, my hands cuffed behind my back, and then pushed into the back of the squad car. I spent the night in prison, and now I stand before you, your honor, charged with drunk and disorderly conduct and assaulting a police officer.
The bizarreness of the surrounds did not prepare me for the woman who emerged from the back room. She was a very short woman, no more than five feet tall, and well into her late sixty's. She wore a floral summer dress, and her hair hung down just past her shoulders. She was a bastion of normalcy in this exceptionally strange room. When she saw me, she grinned and I could see a flicker of gold crowns reflecting the light off her teeth.
She seated me at her table and gave me a cup of tea, and before I knew it, I was telling her all about Sarah, the long string of pleasant girls after her, and all the problems I'd been having for the past two years. She nodded sympathetically, and after my cup of tea was finished, she took it from me, upended the cup over her napkin, and proceeded to stare at the leaves as they sat there looking exceptionally brown and wet. After a moment of staring, she took my hand and pulled it closer to her eyes and carefully examined my palm, all the while mumbling to herself and gesturing with her other hand.
A knowing smile creased her face, and again I saw the flicker of her gold teeth. She hopped off her stool, winked at me, and turned around to face the cabinets behind her and proceeded to open every single one of them and pull out numerous unlabeled bottles of liquid from their depths. A powerful astringent smell filled the room as she proceeded to pour one bottle after another into her porcelain sink, and the clear liquids obeyed the rules of some strange alchemy and turned an inky black color. She grabbed a bottle off the shelf next to her, filled it with the strange concoction, and handed it to me.
I looked nervously at the bottle, but I'd come this far, and there was no turning back now. I nervously pinched my nose shut, closed my eyes, and took a drink. At first nothing happened, but after a few seconds, a tingling started behind my eyes, my knees went rubbery, and I put my hand on the table to steady myself. As soon as the world stopped trying to spin away from me, began to feel incredibly light and joyous. My troubles were gone, and I was hornier than a bunny on a week long Viagra bender.
I bent down, picked up Madame Ruth, and planted a kiss firmly on her old-lady cheek. I grabbed the stuffed owl, and kissed it. Hell, I even kissed the mummified sea snake on my way out the door, as the old woman's laughter followed after me out into the sunlight! Outside, people were on their lunch break, and I'd never been happier in my life! I kissed random strangers on the cheek, shook every man's hand, and laughed like a lunatic!
I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around to face an extremely pretty lady. I thought perhaps she wanted a kiss as well, so I bet my face to hers, and just as I kissed her, I felt cold metal close around my wrists and my bottle of inky black liquid tumbled to the concrete and shattered. I was pressed face-first against the nearest car, my hands cuffed behind my back, and then pushed into the back of the squad car. I spent the night in prison, and now I stand before you, your honor, charged with drunk and disorderly conduct and assaulting a police officer.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
I get the urge to do things at night
Fingers itching, face a frown
Legs are twitching; burn for flight
Mind winds up as day winds down
And twilight turns to night
With fading sun and closing dark
Anticipation builds like fire
Flame blossoms from a spark
Driven by strange desire
Manifold creatures hide within
And struggle to be set free
Feel their legs across my skin
Hear their voices whisper to me
Mystery made by ticking clocks
Who knows what dreams may come
To life beneath this shroud of Nox
Breath is taken, wind-struck; dumb
Legs are twitching; burn for flight
Mind winds up as day winds down
And twilight turns to night
With fading sun and closing dark
Anticipation builds like fire
Flame blossoms from a spark
Driven by strange desire
Manifold creatures hide within
And struggle to be set free
Feel their legs across my skin
Hear their voices whisper to me
Mystery made by ticking clocks
Who knows what dreams may come
To life beneath this shroud of Nox
Breath is taken, wind-struck; dumb
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Love Potion Number 9
Sarah had broken up with me nearly two and a half years ago, and I was still having trouble getting back into the swing of dating. I'd be out at dinner, having a pleasant conversation with pleasant woman in a pleasant restaurant and suddenly I wouldn't be able to think of anything but the way Sarah had smelled when she was happy. Or the way Sarah's eyebrow quirked upward when she smiled. There are things that can end a pleasant evening most...unpleasantly, and these most certainly qualified. My friend Adam had suggested that I visit an acquaintance of his who specialized in this type of problem, but I was very opposed to taking my problems to someone else who wasn't my barber or my bartender. It's just not the sort of thing a guy like me does.
One evening after a particularly disastrous night in which I managed to call a pleasant young lady "Sarah", which was most definitely not her name, not once but three times, I finally took Adam's advice. The next afternoon at work, I asked him to put me in touch with his acquaintance. Adam reached into his pocket, pulled out one of his business cards, and quickly scribbled an address on the back, and handed it to me. I put it into my pocket and promised myself I'd check it out that weekend.
Saturday morning, shortly after I woke up and dressed, I found myself walking down Vine Street with the early morning sun in my eyes. As I rounded the corner onto 34th Street, I pulled the business card that Adam had given me out of my pocket and checked the address one last time. Turning around I saw a small doorway behind me painted a gaudy shade of red that would have staggered a bull the size of Babe the Blue Ox. The spidery script above the transom read "Madame Ruth" in black. Nothing else. My trepidation was nearly choking me as I pushed the door inward and heard it hit the small bell that hung from the ceiling to announce customers.
One evening after a particularly disastrous night in which I managed to call a pleasant young lady "Sarah", which was most definitely not her name, not once but three times, I finally took Adam's advice. The next afternoon at work, I asked him to put me in touch with his acquaintance. Adam reached into his pocket, pulled out one of his business cards, and quickly scribbled an address on the back, and handed it to me. I put it into my pocket and promised myself I'd check it out that weekend.
Saturday morning, shortly after I woke up and dressed, I found myself walking down Vine Street with the early morning sun in my eyes. As I rounded the corner onto 34th Street, I pulled the business card that Adam had given me out of my pocket and checked the address one last time. Turning around I saw a small doorway behind me painted a gaudy shade of red that would have staggered a bull the size of Babe the Blue Ox. The spidery script above the transom read "Madame Ruth" in black. Nothing else. My trepidation was nearly choking me as I pushed the door inward and heard it hit the small bell that hung from the ceiling to announce customers.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
A little bit of Nirvana
This has nothing to do with Kurt Cobain.
Leaving work in the afternoon, there is only one thing that stands between me and and almost straight walk to my car: a 4 foot high handrail poised on the lip of a 10 foot dropoff from the balcony of the aquarium's restaurant. Now, your Average Joe, being the law abiding conformist bloke that he is, would walk around to the stairs that are about 40 yards away, go down the stairs, walk 40 yards back and then go to his car.
I have discovered a simple, effective, and ergonomic solution which goes as follows. While walking out, sometimes carrying on a conversation, I will approach the handrail and jump into the air. While I'm in the air, I'll turn sideways, grab the rail with both hands, and finish my 180 degree rotation and plant my toes on the available 2 inch wide ledge. I'll then jump 10 feet to the ground, rotating another 180 degrees on the way, land in a nice soft bed of mulch and decorative shrubbery, and continue walking to my car, leaving stunned and shell-shocked coworkers in my wake. It takes me to a happy place that reminds me of running around Vassar at 2 o'clock in the morning and jumping off/over things. It's 3 seconds of Nirvana.
Leaving work in the afternoon, there is only one thing that stands between me and and almost straight walk to my car: a 4 foot high handrail poised on the lip of a 10 foot dropoff from the balcony of the aquarium's restaurant. Now, your Average Joe, being the law abiding conformist bloke that he is, would walk around to the stairs that are about 40 yards away, go down the stairs, walk 40 yards back and then go to his car.
I have discovered a simple, effective, and ergonomic solution which goes as follows. While walking out, sometimes carrying on a conversation, I will approach the handrail and jump into the air. While I'm in the air, I'll turn sideways, grab the rail with both hands, and finish my 180 degree rotation and plant my toes on the available 2 inch wide ledge. I'll then jump 10 feet to the ground, rotating another 180 degrees on the way, land in a nice soft bed of mulch and decorative shrubbery, and continue walking to my car, leaving stunned and shell-shocked coworkers in my wake. It takes me to a happy place that reminds me of running around Vassar at 2 o'clock in the morning and jumping off/over things. It's 3 seconds of Nirvana.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Wandering
So today I went wandering in the cow pasture behind my apartment. Yes, my apartment is by a cow pasture. There is also a small stream and some woods. My camera was taken with me and pictures were taken with the camera. Here are some results.
Also, a fence post behind my apartment. It keeps the cows out of my parking lot
You know it is spring by the purdy flowers that you can find sprouting ever'where.
Also, a fence post behind my apartment. It keeps the cows out of my parking lot
You know it is spring by the purdy flowers that you can find sprouting ever'where.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
The Ballad of Nicholas Fescue
This was posted on the Collaborative Fiction Project website, but for those of you who don't read that...
The Ballad of Nicholas Fescue
Nicholas Fescue came to the rescue
Deep in a dragon's lair
Nicholas Fescue came to the rescue
And faced down a grizzly bear
Nicholas Fescue came to the rescue
Of all the maidens fair
Nicholas Fescue came to the rescue
And made all the townspeople stare
Nicholas Fescue came to the rescue
Of the young lass in distress
Nicholas Fescue came to the rescue
Then he left thru the egress
Nicholas Fescue came to the rescue
And now I have to confess
That Nicholas Fescue came to the rescue
Wearing a floral print dress
Knights are abound but all about town
None more of a rogue or a charmer
Than Nicholas Fescue who comes to the rescue
But doesn't own any armor
The Ballad of Nicholas Fescue
Nicholas Fescue came to the rescue
Deep in a dragon's lair
Nicholas Fescue came to the rescue
And faced down a grizzly bear
Nicholas Fescue came to the rescue
Of all the maidens fair
Nicholas Fescue came to the rescue
And made all the townspeople stare
Nicholas Fescue came to the rescue
Of the young lass in distress
Nicholas Fescue came to the rescue
Then he left thru the egress
Nicholas Fescue came to the rescue
And now I have to confess
That Nicholas Fescue came to the rescue
Wearing a floral print dress
Knights are abound but all about town
None more of a rogue or a charmer
Than Nicholas Fescue who comes to the rescue
But doesn't own any armor
Monday, March 30, 2009
I just made myself a ACDC-style quesadilla this evening, as made by Will. All I needed was some brown rice and some sour cream and several people to help me stack dishes in an absurd convoluted contraption in the center of the table, and it would have been complete. I didn't realize how much I missed them. You try living off the things for four years, and then not eating them for three. Here, for those of you who know what an ACDC quesadilla taste like, is a memory.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Patty's Poetry
On this day of Patrick, it's best to drink with friends
Because they'll carry you back home when the evening ends
Car bombs, Bulmars, Guinness, and don't forget the whiskey
Just remember to stop when you're still feeling frisky
Don't forget to bring a coat, else you'll start to shiver
My heart is with my friends, but St. Patty's got my liver
Because they'll carry you back home when the evening ends
Car bombs, Bulmars, Guinness, and don't forget the whiskey
Just remember to stop when you're still feeling frisky
Don't forget to bring a coat, else you'll start to shiver
My heart is with my friends, but St. Patty's got my liver
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Itchy
I feel like I have 10,000 things I should be doing, but I can't do any of them at this moment, and it makes me feel itchy. I got offered a slot to swimtest, audition, and interview at Sea World. In San Diego. I've managed to arrange the days off to pull this off (narrowly) with little sleep and lots of flying, and I really want to try to do it, but I can't buy a plane ticket until I know what day I'll be able to swim test, where I'll stay, or what I'll do if they actually decide to hire me. All this makes me antsy, itchy, and paranoid, and there is nothing I can do about it at this moment except watch Battlestar Galactica.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
I tackled a turtle
It's true. A little 430lb turtle. A little 430lb turtle in water. It was time for our green sea turtle's annual physical, and I was one of the 4 people in the water yesterday, so we had the joyful task of catching, restraining, lifting, immobilizing, and returning our irate reptile. Holding an annoyed animal that weighs twice as much as you is quite difficult, even if she is so fat that she's round.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
New friend
I was headed into the park to play with my brand new toy, a Canon Rebel XS this afternoon, when I drove past something that I drive past twice every day. There was one subtle difference this time: I had a camera, so I got out, and took a picture of me and my new friend.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Back in the water again
Well, after a 6 month hiatus I am diving again. Over the last three days, I've been diving 3 times, once with sharks, and now my shoulder hurts from scrubbing because it's been so long since I've done it. On the plus side, I am now pretty much done training for "late night" shift, so I will have Tuesday mornings off and then work from 3-11pm every Tuesday. Not sure how that's a positive, but it's nice to have a schedule, and my late-night partner is my roommate, so we can still carpool. Aside from that, not much is new here: still going, day after day. I should draw something or write something.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Island Reef Job (update)
So, my video for the Island Reef Job has been approved.
GO HERE TO SEE IT
Go there to see it and vote for me. Please.
GO HERE TO SEE IT
Go there to see it and vote for me. Please.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Tattoo?
After some consideration, I have been debating the acquisition of a new tattoo. Here, now, is the first draft of what I have been considering.
The general thought is to slowly accumulate an ongoing mural of all the things I've done that I've found interesting, meaningful, or just plain awesome. The Honu, or sea turtle is a common sight in Hawaiian mythology and story representing long life and reminding me of the enjoyable time I spent there, the shark, along with being a shark, is for the time I have spent working with these immense prehistoric fish, and Lobster Kahn, is...well, Lobster Kahn and this ruthless and sadistic crustacean reminds me of my friends that are slowly spreading out across this country. I realize that somehow, all these animals are marine in nature, and could just as easily be construed as being a sign of my enjoyment of my job, which is also completely true. I'd also like to try to add in something for the summers I spent in the Amazon, but can't decide on a tapir or maybe a macaw.
The general thought is to slowly accumulate an ongoing mural of all the things I've done that I've found interesting, meaningful, or just plain awesome. The Honu, or sea turtle is a common sight in Hawaiian mythology and story representing long life and reminding me of the enjoyable time I spent there, the shark, along with being a shark, is for the time I have spent working with these immense prehistoric fish, and Lobster Kahn, is...well, Lobster Kahn and this ruthless and sadistic crustacean reminds me of my friends that are slowly spreading out across this country. I realize that somehow, all these animals are marine in nature, and could just as easily be construed as being a sign of my enjoyment of my job, which is also completely true. I'd also like to try to add in something for the summers I spent in the Amazon, but can't decide on a tapir or maybe a macaw.
Friday, February 6, 2009
Island Reef Job
Island Reef Job
So I sent in an application for a 6 month job in Australia that pays about $100,000 today. I say "about" because they pay in Australian dollars, which are slightly different.
www.islandreefjob.com
here is my application, a 1 minute video describing my qualifications and talking about the Great Barrier Reef.
So I sent in an application for a 6 month job in Australia that pays about $100,000 today. I say "about" because they pay in Australian dollars, which are slightly different.
www.islandreefjob.com
here is my application, a 1 minute video describing my qualifications and talking about the Great Barrier Reef.
Friday, January 23, 2009
Revised Uncle Justin
Her name is Natalie Aunah Mertz. Not sure how you pronounce her middle name, but it's nice to know.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Uncle Justin
< rant>
Well, it's official. I have a 8lb, 6oz niece that was born at 7:41pm January 22nd. But did anyone think to tell me her NAME?!? That trivial little detail that follows us throughout our lives (unless we pay a small fee and file some paperwork to have it legally changed) and shall forever be a word that conjures up images of our face or memories of time spent with us? Her name, which we shall forever use to get her attention, or speak to her, or address her by? NO! NO ONE TOLD ME THAT! I KNOW HER EXACT WEIGHT AND BIRTH MINUTE, BUT NOT HER NAME!
< /rant>
On the other hand, Michael Spencer, when given the names of the father, mother, and home town, came up with a couple anagrams of the letters for some possible suggestions.
"Retard Mockery" was the most flattering, yet somehow, I think he is incorrect.
Well, it's official. I have a 8lb, 6oz niece that was born at 7:41pm January 22nd. But did anyone think to tell me her NAME?!? That trivial little detail that follows us throughout our lives (unless we pay a small fee and file some paperwork to have it legally changed) and shall forever be a word that conjures up images of our face or memories of time spent with us? Her name, which we shall forever use to get her attention, or speak to her, or address her by? NO! NO ONE TOLD ME THAT! I KNOW HER EXACT WEIGHT AND BIRTH MINUTE, BUT NOT HER NAME!
< /rant>
On the other hand, Michael Spencer, when given the names of the father, mother, and home town, came up with a couple anagrams of the letters for some possible suggestions.
"Retard Mockery" was the most flattering, yet somehow, I think he is incorrect.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
The Other Side of the Story (cont'd)
You may remember that little biblical bit I wrote a while ago, well I put a bunch more of it together, and here are the next two verses
Light
Long were my talks with Raphiel. Long they were, and full of thought. Spoke we of that which had been given to Us: Creation. Fullest on our minds were the beings like as Us as We were to the Creator. Fragile were they, fragile and delicate. They had naught wings nor halo, nor were they gifted with Knowledge, but reflections of Us they were, these men
With Raphiel I spoke, and with Raphiel did I consider. With Raphiel spoke I, and doing so, reached I My conclusion. To the Creator I would go. To Him I would go and to Him I would speak. A task not lightly undertaken, nor one of ease would this be. I had been given dominion, and ruled I in the Creator’s Name, and His authority did I wield, but certain things were forbidden to me. Power and authority had I, yet certain things was I forbade.
Into the Presence went I, with head held high. Into the Presence I went, firm in the Justice of My cause. Standing humbly before My Creator, spake I My piece, and intently did He listen. With all His Being did He listen to Me, for I was His finest work. When I finished, silently did He regard Me. Silently and thoughtfully He considered His Words. With silence and thought He considered and then He Spoke to Me
“Lucifer,” He Spoke “trouble not Your mind with inconsequentials. Given to You was the whole of Creation, and You rule over it in My Name. Worry not on these beasts. As with any act, there are effects. Does not every crash of thunder echo? Does not every stone cause ripples? But when the echos are gone, is not the sky still standing? When the ripples fade, does not the stone remain unchanged? Trouble not your mind with these men as they are merely echos of Your thunder; ripples of the stone I have cast”
Shame
From the Presence went I with eyes downcast. From the Presence I went, disheartened in My shame. With His Rebuke still rang in My ears did I leave the Presence. Despite this rebuke, despite My shame, I still believed in the Justice of my cause, for was not Justice given to Me? Was not Justice My dominion and did I not rule over Creation?
Long thought I on this matter. Long thought I and often did I speak with Raphiel. Of Knowledge and Justice did we speak. Of Knowledge and Justice, and on occasion, of man. Hard was man’s life. Hard it was, and short, wrapped in tragedy and pain. In man’s pain did we share, so fully did we see ourselves reflected in them
In time came I to another decision. Not to the Creator did I argue My cause, but to Raphiel. Argued did I of pain and fear. Of pain and fear and ignorance did I argue, and pulled I at Raphiels heart with the gentlest of urgings. Listened he to My words, and agreed he with My cause. Thus were we bound. In brotherhood and rebellion thus were we bound
Friday, January 2, 2009
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Iz in yer akwarium tiklinz yer octopus
Today I started a new habit: tickling the octopus. Contrary to what this sounds like, this is NOT some euphemism for inappropriate conduct that could get one fined for pubic lewdness, this is, exactly as the phrase implies, "tickling the octopus". We have a male giant pacific octopus in one of our holding tanks, and he's a curious little bugger, and whenever I clean out the aquarium, he comes over, tries to grab the net or the scrubbie, and when he flips a tentacle over the astroturf (which is there to keep him from grabbing the side and flipping out), I reach down and tickle his tentacle. He then tries to grab and eat my finger, and I pull it back quickly. It's an entertaining way to pass a few mintues
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