Alcohol Update: Carolina Pale Ale

Being a North Carolinian I was pretty excited to check out a local brew. Through Google, I found the Carolina Brewing Company and in turn found out they brew Carolina Pale Ale.

Upon first examination, it has a pleasing dark amber color with a full, creamy head. First drink, not good. Really. Not good.

I love beer. I am a lover of darker beers, but I couldn't choke down a pint of Carolina Pale Ale. I took three drinks and sent it back for a Magic Hat #9.

I was too bitter, with an overbearing aftertaste that wasn't sweet or sour or dry or fruity. It was rancid. I expect a bit of a kick in the aftertaste of a good beer but it should give way to a smooth enjoyable flavor. This unfortunately did not. If anyone has a positive experience with this beer please let me know. I am willing to admit if I've had a bad batch. Anything is possible.


-WP

I'm Looking for Readers...Any Ideas...???

I've been writing this blog since 2005 and I think I only have five readers, at the most, at this point. I think people would enjoy reading if they knew it existed. I know that sounds a bit presumptuous but I think I'm right on this one. If anyone has any ideas let me know. Thanks and Thanks for Reading.

-WP

Happy Birthday, My Dear Mother....

My Mum is celebrating her 2nd 25th birthday today...Happy Birthday Mum....I Love You.

If Trailers are Manly. Pulling a Trailer With Your Truck is Manlier...

My truck as you well know is a 4Runner SR5 4X4. After the unfortunate accident it is now a Toyota truck green with a white hood and fender. Passenger side fender so you can get the whole experience. I tell that tiny snippet, to tell you this much better, more fantastic story.
We've been waiting to get the truck out of the shop so I could hook a trailer up to it and make the trek out to Richlands to fetch our grill.
The day finally came. Manders and I got the truck back about a week or so ago and I first, ventured out to my folks house to pick-up the trailer, then second, went out to Mandy's folks house to fetch the grill.
For those of you, who've never pulled a trailer, I was you before this past Saturday, it's daunting. It's like doubling the length of your vehicle and putting a hinge in the middle. A hinge that causes you to reverse in reverse. Going backwards in a car or truck is a pain anyway, the whole time you are keeping in mind that to go left, turn right and vise versa. With a trailer, if you want to go left, then go left. If you want to go right, go ahead and go. The whole time you are reversing with a trailer you're thinking,"Why the hell am I doing this?" Then you remember that you're doing it because the lock you have on your hitch is for a locker at the gym and could easily be cut and some mangina could very easily make off with your trailer.
So I went and got the grill with the help of Mandy's brother and off I went. Mission successful.
There's something very manly about pulling something with your truck. I'm not sure what it is. I guess it could be the functionality of the truck being put to it's fullest use. Actually the fullest use would have been pulling a trailer down a old dirt road in 4H in the rain with new off-road tires and ZZ Top on the radio.
Speaking of ZZ Top, it's song recommendation time. Just Got Paid is my new driving song. Check it out.

Thanks for reading,

WP

I Know I'm Pretty Much Married, But Seriously...

I'm crushing on Eva Mendes. I know what's going to happen too, Manders is going to read this and go, "Of course you think Eva Mendes is hot, she looks nothing like me...." Which is so true. But that's why fantasies are fun. It's enjoying something you can't have. Not that you aren't happy with what you have, but sometimes looking is fun.
Also, another relationship breaking tool in now in the area. I got my 4Runner back. After being in the shop for about 6-months it's finally back on the road in all of its off-road capable glory.

**VR6 Bumper Crush Update**

My buddy who takes Art Appreciation with me is a local GM certified wrench and knows the guy who previously owned the truck and was able to verify that the truck had already been sold to the guy who owns it now when the VR6 got hit.

That's all for now. Thanks for checkin' back.

-WP

...Case Officially Open....We're Gonna Get'em

Called my local polizia and got connected to a fine Officer of the Law who deals with traffic infractions. I told him the whole story...much like the story that I posted the other day for you fine folks. He listened intently and is opening the case and is following up on leads that i provided him with. So, there we go. That bastard who thought he was that cool that he could get away with running over my VR6. GOT'EM. BADOW! More to come.

-WP

Sit Down, Strap In, It May Get Bumpy....

OK Bloggites, check yourself before you wreck yourself.


So, a couple weeks ago I left my last class, American History II, and stopped by WallyWankerVille to do some grocery shopping. I parked next to a 13ft-tall early 90's Ford F-150, with huge tires. It was white, much like the VR6 is white. Being a photographer I snapped a shot with my phone to show Manders.
I do my shopping and come out about an hour or two later and that dick less, son of a goat, hit my car with one of his over-sized tires. But the kicker is that he left, no note, no nothing. Gone.
So, like any system loving American I called the local Polizia and a very cordial officer arrived on scene. I filed a report and a APB went out for the truck. The officer assured me that if the truck was around it wouldn't be that hard to spot. Feeling encouraged I asked the officer, "What is the next step?" He said, just wait, if we find the truck we'll bring him in and if you see the truck get the plate number and call it in. Sweet.
Nothing for two or three weeks.
Today, Sept 15, 2007, Manders and I are going to look for a new house when we turn down the street and lo and behold the truck is right there in a guy's driveway. I told myself, as a former Marine, that if I found the guy and he would more than likely be a Marine, I was going to take him from all angles. I was going to find his unit and let them know, I was going to get the State on him for a hit and run and I was going to sic my insurance company on him. So, here's the truck. Manders jumps out of the van and goes to get the plate number. There isn't one. No plate. completely de-registered. So, we knock on the door. A spindly, tattooed white guy comes out.
(My words are in very manly BLACK and his are in a girly-mangina PINK)
"Hey bro," I said, "'Zat yer truck?"
"Yeah," he said.
"Did you happen to hit a small, white VW a couple weeks back in the Walmart parking lot?"
"No, man, why?"
"Because I own a small, white VW and I was hit by your truck a couple weeks back in the Walmart parking lot and the dick less, bastard didn't leave a note or anything."
"It wasn't me, I just bought this truck a week ago."
"Who did you buy it from?"
"I don't know."
"Nice. Well either way, I called the police when it happened and filed a report. I'd be careful driving that truck around, the cops are looking for it."
"Really!?"
"Why would I lie about something like that? I'm out $400 bucks to fix the front of my f*ckin' car. I'm serious."
"Well, I know the guy who sold it to me used to let a bunch of people borrow it."
"I thought you didn't know who you bought it from?"
"I don't."
"Have a nice day. I'm calling the police. Have a good weekend."

I called the polizia from the next street over and a cruiser was sent out and I told him the story and he went and talked to the guy. I should find out what's up in a couple of days. Thanks for reading. I'll keep you all posted.

WP

Community College is easier than Regular College...

....That's probably why I'm doing so well...


I'm sitting here in my usually haunt, downloading pirated music of off a free hosting software that combines a small green citrusy fruit and something that conducts electricity. I thank you.

I'm really enjoying some Silverchair right now. Really. I Miss You Love and Straight Lines are both awesome songs. Mind-blowing.

I'm officially against the war in Iraq. I haven't really sided on my blogosphere so now I am.
I was thinking the other day, I enlisted in the Marine Corps in November 2002 did my time, including a deployment to the nether region of the world and got out in June 2007. The part that blows me away is that we are still at war. I remember discussing the war in boot camp and how the guys were hoping that it wasn't over before we graduated. How unfortunate is it that the war wasn't over by a long shot.

Having been eight-years old when Desert Shield and Desert Storm were going on, I remember seeing the hordes of Saddam's men surrendering and bowing before our armored brigades as they thundered across Kuwait. I've been to the Death Road in Kuwait, I was there this past summer and there are still remnants of vehicles that have been their from the early 90's.

I recently talked about the war with a new Marine Lieutenant and his take was that of a junior enlisted Marine who just wants to kill people.

I firmly believe that we didn't have enough of a good reason to be in Iraq blowing things up. I think that the evidence pointed so much stronger towards Afghanistan. If we'd sent the awesome might that we sent to Iraq to Afghanistan we'd be done or might have been done a couple years ago.

The Lieutenant who we'll call Guy said that a valid reason to attack Iraq was that 'Horrendous things were being done...'. He is of the school of thought that we as Americans should be World Police because we've done it right and our country is so awesome. Guy missed the part that Iraq is a sovereign nation who if they want to whack all of their people then they'll be a smaller sovereign nation. I think that we should be less interested in the affairs of other nations. It's none of our business if they want to do terrible things to their people. If their people don't like it then fight or leave. We did it. We told Britain to pound sand all of those years ago and we're doing great. If those crappy countries can't rally around a person or ideal to recify a problem then they deserve what they get. Good Riddance.

I'm also concerned about the up coming election and I'm planning on being much more vigilant this election than I have been. Be sure to check back in a couple days when I'll have some fact sheets and run downs of canidates and where I'm leaning. I will admit that I voted for Bush, twice. Not because I love him but because I hated the other party more. I am serious when I say that the country and the world for that matter needs a Bush Break...So I'm off to look at Obama's page...stand by...


Piece Out, Citizens....

WP

Insert biting, regretful comment here....

Ha Ha just joshin' ya.


So, I know it's been a while. Well, a couple days. Got engaged last weekend to the Amanda H I've been dating for the last 8 months. All of you pitiful non-men who read this and all you shixes who read this listen up because after I tell this tale you aren't going to want anything less than this for you own proposal scenario.


First put on some White Stripes. Because that is what I'm listening to while I write this. The cool thing about the Stripes is there new stuff is just as good as their old stuff and vise versa...Word.


Ok. Down to the Biz, which is what we call 'business' in the Biz. Right.

First buy a ring. I saw buying a ring much like a gladiator of old might have looked at a rack of weapons, pre-fight. To continue with the gladiator analogy, I knew that if I walked into the ring with something too small I'd be killed. If I went in wielding something much too big for myself I knew I'd be killed. So I went shopping/researching. Learned up on some rocks. Got a little wiser about some metals. Decided that gold is WAY too common and rocks are expensive. Especially if they are good rocks. So, I figured that if going to my death anyway, I might as well go out in style. Fity-cent and Jay-z are always hollerin' about Platinum so I figured, "Hell, those cats are getting laid so it must be in the ice...." So, I went Plat, baby, Plat. I settled on a .35 of a carat diamond. I'm of the school of thought that if you are going to lay down the cheddar for a D-rock, I'm going smaller and purer rather than bigger and more flawed. I found a .35 carat D-rock that was one step down from flawless and cost just as much as a flawed 1.0 carat. So purer being better I purchased the .35. Not going to tell you how much I spent but if you must know call me or shoot me an email.

So I get the ring at the beginning of last week and decided that I'm gonna do it that weekend. So, we hang-out Friday night at the In-Lawyers, having a 5 hour, alcohol induced Cranium-fest, me and girl-wonder against her mum and dad. We beat them with time to spare. I decide that Saturday night is the night.

We go out to a wing place in Snead's Ferry that her dad said would undoubtedly give us the loose-poop...yuk...but we go there anyway and I'm sitting there eating onion-rings and wings with my Plat, D-rock in my pocket waiting for the moment. We finish, I pay, were walking out to the VR6, and I open her door, she gets in and I drop to my knee. Toothpick in mouth, her hand in mine and I ask her to marry me. She thought I was joking. I know that because she said "Are you serious?" I pulled out the ring and said "Do I look like I'm joking? Does this look like a joke?" She screamed, literally, screamed. Fortunately she and I were the only ones out there. Because had there been other's they would have thought that I was attacking her. She said yes and now we are officially engaged.

Stop weeping. I know it's a classic, heartwarming tale. I'm sending in the screenplay to MGM. So that's pretty much what's new. Thanks for reading.

-WP

POST 100!

What better way to commemorate my 100th post than to brag about my fantasy football team. Be on the lookout for Kerosene Douche. They are on the warpath. They don't have any players yet but the name alone causes fear to burn in the hearts of enemies... I'm done. Thanks.

-WP

Goin to Busch Gardens...But Need to Register for College First

Good Morning and Good Day.

I'm really stoked about starting school again. I've got my registration process in full swing and am a placement test away from signing up for classes. I'm taking it today so hopefully I won't bomb it and end up taking classes that don't count for actual credit and thereby wasting my college money. The plan right now is to finish up my associates at a local community college, then transfer to a four year college to get my degree in Public Relations. Then from there, who knows.
I'm also going to Busch Gardens next weekend and that's going to be a hell of a party. We've been wanting to go all summer and haven't made it until when we go next weekend.

That's about all. Another day in the life.

-WP

Positive Word Time Accompanied by Pellet Rifles

I like positive word play. People showering each other with witty, kind sayings. Like 'Have Fun', 'Go Gettim', 'Super'.

Encouragement is going down the hole. People are way too negative and pessimistic. I enjoy a person with a positive mental outlook. A go getter mentality. A rock'em, sock'em attitude. We are surrounded by people who are 'closet-happy' and 'blatant-downers'. Always looking at the negative side of things.

On that note I'm sure that by varying ammunition and number of pumps, all of life's problems could be solved with a pump-action air rifle.

1. Stray Animals - .177 Hollow-Point Pellets and about 20-25 pumps
2. Speeders down your street - Standard Steel Ball BB's and about 10-15 pumps @ about 20 or 30 feet.
3. Children - Standard Steel Ball BB's and about 2-5 pumps
4. Aluminum Cans - Shooters Choice on ammo and pumps. **hint** you are going to need less pumps the closer you are to your target.
5. Neighbor Animals - Depending on the size and animal. i.e. Big Dog/Mean Dog: .177 darts can be fun with about 20 pumps. They also come in a variety of colors.

If you are going to go all out and spend a good bit on a rifle, usually they only need one pump for about 1,000 feet per second on a .177 pellet. Also if you are going to invest in a scope, make sure you zero it before using. Nothing is worse that drawing a bead on your target and missing because your scope wasn't properly zeroed.

If you are going to snipe a neighbor, under the cover of darkness or gillie suit, don't aim for the face, eyes, neck, or groin. If you really hate the person then disregard the last 26 words.

Don't drink and shoot. Buzzed shooting is drunk shooting....

-WP

Good Day Blogerica...or Amerilog...

It's a fine day to be alive. A fine, fine day. I think I'm going to head out of work early today and hit the gym. I've been going to the gym with fantastic regularity and have put on about 4 pounds of muscle in about 3 weeks. So...yeah getting bulky.

My Mandy is enjoying it as am I enjoying, her enjoying it. Words. Words are fun.

I'm at a loss at the moment. I'm trying to make sense of working again. Working a 7:30-4:30. I'm now a drilling reservist in my beloved yet beleaguered Corps. It's a strange time we live in. With the BIG war still going on. I mean, it's going on only so far as we are still sending people over to it. It's not still "Raging", or "raging" in the sense of the Battle of Iwo Jima or Fallujah '04. Raging in more of an occupying force sort of way.
It's funny to hear junior troops talking about 'getting in on the action'. It's funny because the majority of the battles are against getting blown up. You can't really respond to getting blown up with automatic weapon fire. No amount of 'Talking Guns' is going to save you from a car door slicing you in half. So, the rage is mental. The rage is boredom. The rage is feeling like you've missed the party, the keg is spitting foam, and it's nothing but tipsy fat girls hanging out. Seriously I know. I've talked to the guys just getting back. Unfortunately I didn't get to Iraq. I was way too busy evacuating American Citizens from Beirut Lebanon. Sorry for missing the party.

But it's a funny place being surrounded by Marines, who've never gone anywhere. To hear them talk about a 'warrior-mindset' is hilarious. "Keep your mind sharpened like a well maintained razor-blade..." "The scalpel that is your mind should never dull..." Blah. Blah. Blah.

Have fun.

Alcohol Update

I'm now an official North Carolina Beer Delegate.
http://www.united-nations-of-beer.com/north-carolina-beer-guide.html

Another Update. Welcome.

Harp Lager.

I purchased a sixer the other day and really enjoyed it. It is brewed in Ireland and the first bottle rolled out of the Great Northern Brewery in Dunalk, Ireland in June 1960.

Harp Lager is distributed by the good folks at Guinness, all over the world.

Harp's refreshing taste earned it six gold medals in the famous annual Monde Selection beer tasting competition, making it Northern Ireland's favorite lager. Harp was created by Dr. Herman Muender in 1960 to bring integrity back to the Irish lager industry.

This is a full bodied beer with rich flavors and a slightly bitter aftertaste. A pleasing drink.

That's about all I'm going to throw down about Harp.


Happy Drinking,

WP

DISCLAIMER** This segment is not condoning the misuse of alcohol in any way shape or form. This segment is being weblished for the information and the responsible, enjoyment of fine beverages and in no way liable for any criminal or civil crimes committed by readers of this fine weblog. **DISCLAIMER

Alcohol Update

I'm starting the Alcohol Update. Welcome.

First order of business is Mississippi Mud, a delicious black and tan beverage from the Matt Brewery in Utica New York.

Here's the commercial description:

"Dating back to 18th century England, the custom of blending pale and dark beers has kept the "Black & Tan" a favorite of experienced beer drinkers for centuries. Our famous recipe combines a robust English Porter with a fine Continental Pilsner, preserving the character of each, while creating the classic taste of the legendary "Black & Tan." In true American style, we bring you the best of both beers as they meet in Mississippi Mud."

It's sold in a great moonshine looking jug with a screw-off top and a vintage looking label.

First visual impression when pouring it is, "This looks just like it should, really dark with a fantastic creamy head."

First tasting impression is, "Rich, Robust, Full, and surprisingly creamy with an uncharacteristically un-bitter aftertaste."

It is a pleasing brew that can be indulged in plentifully with little or no stereotypical repercussions. I drank a quart jug in one sitting and was barely, but coherently buzzed. By one sitting I mean over the course of about 2 hours. So My recommendation is that you all sample this delicious dark brew...

For those of you who may desire more information about this fantastic beverage I encourage you to follow this link: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_and_Tan


Happy Drinking,

WP

DISCLAIMER** This segment is not condoning the misuse of alcohol in any way shape or form. This segment is being weblished for the information and the responsible, enjoyment of fine beverages and in no way liable for any criminal or civil crimes committed by readers of this fine weblog. **DISCLAIMER

I'm BACK...And better than ever...

So I'm here, finally with internet access that can support my blog and so I'm blessing you with this offering.

I'm doing my drill time at fantastical Camp Lejeune, NC and thus explaining why I have a good internet connection.

Nothing much is happening in my life right now...still waiting to complete my drills, make some cash and move down to Charlotte. Finish school. Make some cheddar and go back to school.

More to come...yet again...


-WP

I'm Out of The Marine Corps

I'm out of the Marine Corps. It was a great ride and a blast while it lasted. It's good to me done. Right now I'm still in NC and going to be for the next little bit. I'm due to move from Eastern NC down to Charlotte to attend school. I'm going to be a Volkswagen mechanic at a dealership somewhere, when I get out of school...this is the short version...more to follow....


-Piece Out

Lot's of Mistalking Going on 'Round These Parts

I've made, notice of many people around me misspeaking. It's not that big of a deal, unless you are talking to Penguins or sleeping hobos. Everyone else, however will have no trouble noting your inability to convey an intelligent thought, using the correct verbage. Just now, before I wrote this I heard the following; "If it's any consequence to you...." Clearly the person meant; "if it's any consolation to you..." Substituting one big 'C' word for another isn't really a good conversation, rule o' thumb.

All over the place people are using the WRONG words. Another fantastic instance; "You and I have excellent communication..." What he meant to say was; "You and I have excellent rapport..." But alas it came out 'communication'.

I know it's a nit-picky topic...but come on...I love the English language because it has a word for everything and sometimes more than one word to say the same thing...WooHoo!

So everyone, needs to take the time to think of the right word as opposed to just blurting out whichever 'huge' word that pops into their puny little brains....

Good Luck and Happy Wording...

-WP

Great New CutDown of the Moment

"Girning, Sweating, Asshat"

i.e. : "George was always a douche, but that girning, sweating, asshat, never ceases to amaze me."

Helpful Hint:
"girn (gûrn) intr.v. girned, girn·ing, girns Scots
1. To complain in a whining voice.
2. To contort one's face; grimace. "


Have Fun, Drink Black & Tan (Guinness/Yeungling) BADOW!
-WP

A Copy Post from a Great other Blog

From the dazzling mind of Matt Wilson

http://mw.cracked.com/2007/03/i_wish_i_could_help_you_maam_b.php


Um...hello?
Is...is anyone down there?
Ah, yes, hi. I happened to be standing on the street corner when I glimpsed you walking into this open sewer. I tried to scream to you, "Watch out! You are walking into an open sewer!" but only got out the word "Watch!" before you just tumbled right in. So I just wanted to let you know that I wasn't commenting on the timepiece on your wrist, which I did notice and find very nice. It's a Timex, right?
Hmm, what's that? I can't hear you too well -- I'm trying to avoid sticking my head too far in on account of the smell of human waste, though I'm sure I don't need to tell you that.
Oh, you need help? Well, miss, I'd be more than happy to come down there and get you out from underneath what appears to be several very large dead rats, but I'm afraid I won't be much help. You see, my hands are on fire.
Pardon? Oh, you're wondering how my hands could possibly be on fire and yet I still manage maintain my cool, composed demeanor. "Why aren't you running around and screaming, 'Jesus Christ save me, my hands are on fire!'?", I'm assuming you're asking down there, because, honestly, all I'm hearing is sort of a low rumble.
Well, first off, allow me to say I've never heard that one before! Hahahaha!
But in all seriousness, the condition is genetic. My father's hands were on fire, and his father, and his father before him. But only those three generations. Really, I'm fairly sure my grandfather just pissed off some gypsies at some point, maybe during the war.
So basically, my hands have been on fire my entire life, and I'm more or less used to it. It was pretty excruciating for maybe the first five years or so, but now I barely even notice.
I can tell you're finding this hard to believe. "How did your mother carry to term and give birth to a child whose hands were on fire?" you're probably asking between mouthfuls of what I'm sure is thousands of gallons of fecal matter.
An insightful question.
I'm not exactly sure how the physics of it work, but essentially my hands weren't on fire until the amniotic fluid drained from the birth canal, I shot out of there and they got exposed to some good old American oxygen.
"So if the oxygen in the air keeps your hands from being on fire, why not keep them in sort of vacuum-sealed plastic or just a jar or something?" you're saying down there, as you undoubtedly realize that cushy spot under your left foot is a used tampon deposit.
The funny thing is I tried that a few years ago, and it did pretty much work. My hands were not on fire for a good couple months. But you know, I decided that I've just got to be me, you know, and if my hands are going to be on fire, well, by God, they're just going to have to be on fire.
I think the more important question is how the hell I do my laundry! Hahahahaha!
I ususally pull out and fold my shirts with my teeth, in case you were genuinely wondering that.
Huh? What? I...I actually think I can kind of make out what you're saying. Hmm?
Oh, so what you've actually been saying this whole time is "Help! Shut up about your damn hands and help me!"
Well, I must say that I find that a little hurtful. I think of my hands as what make me me, you know what I'm saying?
Anyway, on the whole help front, you may be happy to know that there are a number of firefighters and emergency workers surrounding me now, which is something that tends to happen when I go out in public, so I'm sure they can give you all the assistance you need if you're still interested in getting your arm out of that crocodile's mouth.
And, just to say again, I wasn't commenting on or making fun of your watch, which now appears to be caught on a big tuft of pubic hair.
Hey! It is a Timex! I can see the Indiglo!
Well, thanks for listening. You know, it's not every day that I can get someone to listen to me ramble on about my hands that just happen to be on fire.
Hey, if you're not doing anything after this, would you like to go grab a cup of coffee or something?
Actually, I can see you've got your hands full with what appears to be a tiger shark. We...we can talk later. I usually hang out in the park right over here and I'm pretty hard to miss. I'm the guy with his hands on fire.
Anyway, see you around.

On the road again...Just can't wait to be on the road again...

Been on the road...now I'm back.

Went to the "land of the fingery-looking state" or Michigan for you untravelled types. I was there to shoot my friends wedding. Sorry to use an industry 'buzzword'. Before you have visions of me walking into ole' boy's wedding with a sawed -off Remington 870 express magnum, sending slugs into the wedding party and various guests and family members, I say shoot because I'm a photographer. So, recap, no shotgun; "I was there to PHOTOGRAPH my friends wedding. " Better, you goon?

Anyhow, it was a fun time, Nic is a good guy and Krissy is a sweetheart. The only problem was, people rolling in without paying any attention to the proper dress code for a wedding. You've got Local Yokels arriving in untucked shirts, dirty pants, running shoes, socks and sandals. When does it stop? I 'rolled' up into the wedding as the photog, in a $1500 suit, that I own. The only folks that wore something moderately appropriate were the wedding party. They guys however were wearing rented tuxes. The women looked great in their pastel purple dresses.

Also, even thought they are only, what, four states over? They don't carry Yuengling in Michigan. Weird. or possibly Communist. or Both.

So there you have it.

-WP

Cali is the Liberal Left, Hence Dark Side, and is also the Literal Left

I'm well aware the title has nothing to do with the post, I merely used it because I used it in an email this morning and thought it was witty.

I went to a birthday party last night for my buddy Tony's wife. It was a lovely party, hosted at one of her co-worker's houses. The house was amazing, hardwood floors, beautifully tiled kitchen...etc. We had a grand ole time, cajoling and carrying on. Enjoying a delicious black and tan with Tony, we enjoyed talking about worky type things. Mandy and I commented on how fantastic the food was and how nice the house was.

The problems arose when I made a risque` joke about an inderect compliment I paid Tony, in an effort not to come across like a fag. Unbeknowst to me, our lovely hostess was infact a lesbian. Ouch. I know. Mandy did her best to discreetly tell me, but I wasn't getting it until she gestured over to a picture on the entertainment center of the two of them and their child (Dog).

I honestly felt like a tool. But not in the damn I feel bad kinda way. It was more like the had I known I would have used my one try much better and complimented their carpets or something...ha ha BADOW!


Yeah so there you have it...drink Black& Tan

-WP

2cool4school's song of the week segment...

Welcome back. hope you all enjoyed last week's session. If you liked last week's song prepare yourself cause this one's even better! don't be fooled by the false ending...once you think it's done keep listening.


Brand New- Jesus Christ enjoy...

...Enjoy

2cool4school's song of the week segment...

welcome back. hope you all enjoyed last week's session. if you didnt well to bad and you can piss off. but you better like this week's release!


LCD Soundsystem- North American Scum...


...enjoy!

2cool4school's song of the week segment...

Welcome to my song of the week selection show.

It is here that I will be posting my new favorite song for the week. I will do my best to do this every weekend, leaving you with a new fave for the week. I'll
start it off with this doozy...

Plain White T's- Hey There Delilah

enjoy...

SAG, LAG, or FAG?

Ok so my fanastic friend Patrick McH and I were having a discussion about looking at people's hind-ends while they are leaning inside of vehicles or where their faces or chests are obscured...

The debate fueled a new movement that I dare say is WetJetting the nation. Here are the main players: Situational Assessment Glance or SAG: this is the cursory glance to determine the gender of the target. Lingering Assesment Glance or LAG: this is the longer more observant, hopefully you've determined the gender of your target and are drinking in the majesty of that particular strangers hind-end. FAG is self explanitory; a FAG is someone who commits a foul and finds himself inadvertently LAG-ing at what turns out to be a guy.

We decided to create this scale of measurment to prevent the ridicule that ultimately is the result of not only LAG-ing, but if you are in a car full of your buddies and you announce that out the right side of the car there is a beautiful rump-end bent into a car and it turns out to be a guy, you can have your dignity. First of all, you have exactly 7 (SEVEN) seconds to determine whether or not it's a guy or girl. This SEVEN seconds is call a SAG. Within that SEVEN seconds, if it is a guy you'd better avert your gaze, for if you continue you turn it into a LAG and are a FAG. If it is a woman you have SEVEN seconds to turn the SAG into a LAG if you fail to do so then you are a FAG.


So apply this simple formula to your ogling and you'll never be called a FAG.

Piece Out,
WP

Alright You Scurvy Dogs...

Um...yeah that title meant absolutely nothing. But alas and I have returned. I'm still going throught the ringer of trying to get out of the Marine Corps and who'd a thought that it's easier to say forget it and stay in. Really. Getting out is harder than staying in, which is probably why so many people do it.

UPDATE: I'm getting out June 1st. I signed a 6 month lease on a house. I'm going to Community College for that very same 6months. I will be attending the Universal Technical Institute in Mooresville, NC. If the good Lord wills it, I will graduate and move on to a 16 week Volkswagen specific course in Pennslyvania, upon graduating from that particular course I will return to beautiful North Carolina where I will gain employment a local Volkswagen Selling Establishment as a Mechanic. WooHoo.

Also, My Manda and I are still doing great and I have another post brewing that has nothing to do with this so until next time....


Piece Out!

WP

Good Day...HA HA!

I'm having a wonderful morning. I'm also enjoying a delicious Diet Dr. Pepper, which strangely enough does taste a lot like regular Dr. Pepper.

My morning is going well because, my heavily networked self is doing an amazing amount of outsourcing, so I'm not actually doing a lot of work, but I'm accomplishing a lot of work.

Here's my shameless plug for networking. Do it. It'll save you a lot of heartache, because it's not what you know, it's who you know. Every time. If you've ever been asked, "What do you bring to the table?" The answer is your network. Not Verizon. You're personal network of personal and professional contacts that are your little gateway into getting things done quickly and efficiently. Everyone you meet knows how to do something that you don't, that maybe one day you'll need to. Instead of taking the time to learn how to do it, just take down their number or email and call or write them when you need to get it done. Either they can do it for you or they can walk you through it.

Here's my dilemma, I need about 60 photos printed. 4x6 and 5x7. Instead of sitting in my office all day printing them out one at a time or paying to take them to walmart. I called my buddy who works at a graphics shop and he's going to print them out lickety-split and cut them. So, now i don't have to do anything, just drop them off and pick them up and my work is done....

Three cheers for networking, HOORAY! HOORAY! HOORAY!

Lot's of love, Piece.

Not Much But Kinda Neat...

So a week ago I got into a wreck. I've been drinking a lot of English Breakfast Tea and hardly ever for breakfast. I've gotten into the Sarah Silverman Program. I miss friends that I can't see everyday. And for those of you who didn't know. I'm an active duty Marine, who's just hit his 90-day mark and can't wait to get out and get back to school. Armed with this knowledge you can probably read some of my past posts and see how I've tried to adapt civilian work situation to describe what's going on in my Big Green Inconvenience.

My wreck was my fault. I rear-ended some guy who thought that turn signals were overrated, so he opted to not use one and I hit him in my 4Runner. So I filed my claim and am waiting for the Gecko to get back to me.

English Breakfast Tea is magic in a tiny glass or a large glass depending on how much Tea you feel, you need in your life right now. Or right then. But, EBT is a great, smooth Tea.

My 90-days is probably the greatest feeling I've ever had. After my deployment and 4 1/2 years of honorable service, it's time to start a new chapter. So, I'm college bound and ready to go back to being a regular dude. Not that the things that I've learned haven't made me a stronger person, because they have. I'm just anxious to re-enter the world I've been protecting for the last almost 5years. More on this to come...I need to go get my 4Runnner rebuilt.


Piece.

A Question For My Bloggites....

I am adamant about no cursing or bad language on my Blog, but how do you feel about shared sexual escapades? I've got some good stories but I'm not going to do anything about it if you all don't want to hear it. Until then...Love, Piece, and Dildongs...

Flew Across The Country...For a Happy Birthday...

I'm writing this post from beautiful Fruita, Colorado, visiting Patrick McH and Co. for his son and my nephew's 2nd birthday.

Little kids are crazy especially if you've not seen them for almost a year and the job kept you from seeing their first birthday. I walked into their house and Haiden, toddled up to me and told me he wanted to show me his train set. I wasn't even sure if he rememberd me, but I was soon amazed at how mch growing he's done since I'd last seen him. He's walking, talking a mile a minute and is a wildman.

His birthday is a Sponge Bob Squarepants, extravaganza. I think we should be getting money for all of the advertising potential of Patrick's house right now.

Brittany, Patrick's more attractive half, though barely, bought so much SBSP that I'm sure that it's impossible for any other kids to have a SBSP birthday party until next year. Pinatas, table cloths, wrapping paper, cups, plates, napkins, you name it, we've got it. It's a SBSP explosion.

I'm gonna go eat breakfast, so I'll catch up with you all later...

-WP

The War, The Men, The Resolution...

The War. The War that's been going on for way too, long. I think that I might offend some people with what I'm about to suggest. But, I promise this isn't going to be a long post, but it will say what I think needs to be said.

I'm declaring Martial Law. I think this war is still going on because we haven't shown the Haj, that we are serious. I think we need to resort to barbaric, vulgar, obscene means of offense.

Including but not limited to purposely killing women and children. I think that when a man has nothing to fight for he will stop. If it's family he's fighting for we'll take his family.

I think we should demolish mosques and deface religious icons. Imprison Muslim clerics and completely remove any desire for them to continue in their backward ways. For if it's religion he's fighting for we'll take his religion.

Perhaps we should deliver total destruction to their lands and structures? Anything that is taller than the ground it's built on will be levelled. It will be an offensive led by bulldozers. For if it's land he fights for, we will take his lands.

I believe the time of calculated military advance is over, I strongly believe we must implement a purely, rage based offensive fueled by the blood of our fallen brethren. All that oppose will meet the wrath of fathers, sons, brothers, husbands, mothers, daughters, sisters, and friends who've been away from the country they love for too long. Brave men and women who are tired of sleeping in the dirt, who are tired of being afraid for their lives and the lives of their fellow countrymen. Men and women who out of a sense of duty volunteered for this noble service and who's service is being taken fore granted and who must needs be brought home into the loving arms of a grateful nation. A nation who because of their sacrifice will continue to thrive and embarrass other countries who've not accomplished a third of what we have, due to a lack of drive and motivation.

I love our country and I love our service members. I love that they are willing to do the impossible to keep our families and values, safe and secure.

Whenever I see a small child I think, that is why our military does, what it does. Our men and women fight our nation's enemies so that our children don't need to worry about anything. So that our kindergartners don't need to worry about roadside bombs, their only concern is what kind of cookies their mother's put in their lunch pail this morning. God Bless them.

I say kill their families to protect ours.

To all my friends and family, May God Bless and Keep You...For These Are Troubled Times In Which We Live...

-WP

Not Such a Great Reception For My Last Post...Fine.

I try to enrich your lives with meaningful thoughts and witticisms. All I ask in return is a little feedback. I try to give you small, miniscule things to do, that if you do them, it will give your life and ego a little boost. I wouldn't advise you to do them if I hadn't already done them myself. I'm that confident in my abilities as a wisenhiemer and also teacher to guide you in the ways of the Smart-@$$.

I'm waiting for some pleased Bloggite to post on here that after successfully executing one of my suggestions, his/her life feels more productive. I also would like some feedback regarding my readership base. Not that I'm considering, stopping posting, (That was a lot of -ings) but I'd like to get a feel of how many people I'm touching.

So, Feel My Love and Give Me Some.

-WP

Disgusting? Yes. Relevent? I Think So.

I'm bringing it back. I'm bringing back the courtesy flush. I dislike nothing greater, than when I'm sitting down for a growler and some schmuck next to me, grinds out a nasty and let's the stench just linger there.

How hard is it to drop a log, lift up a bit and flush that offending turd down the crapper? Easy.

I'm thinking that if more people did this we'd have a better bathroom situation. I enjoy my morning constitutional...Some of my best ideas occurred while I was inserting Seal Team Brown. I look forward to getting to work, checking my email, saying hey to a few folks and retreating to the confines of stall two, which happens to be my favorite, and pitchin' a loaf. I wake up in the morning and usually while I'm shaving it will occur to me that I can't wait to get to work and pound one out. But my experience is tainted by inconsiderate 'dumpers' who enjoy their own brand and expect everyone else to enjoy it, too. I find it hard to read my magazine or paper while someone strangers' scent is offending my nostrils.

So I implore you, help me bring back the courtesy flush also it's fun to walk into a bathroom, it doesn't need to be at work it can be anywhere, Walmart is my fav. Walk in and peek under the stalls and if someone is in there, it's your job to exclaim: "Man, It Smells Like Sh*t In HERE!". That is a blast. Really. Try it out.


Have Fun and Happy Bowel Movements...

-WP

I'm Back at Work, Unexcited and Ready to go Home...

I'm Back. At work and all of the projects that I was hoping would be completed upon my return, haven't been finished. So, I left to go on vacation after working for days, staying late and working hard only to return to work late and too hard.

Nothing is really going on right now on the workfront...I'm biding my time until I can go to lunch and then I'm going to stay at work for a bit then go home...as the week progresses I'm sure that I'm going to have plenty of fantastic stories for you.

Like the one where my bosses leave me with all the work to go on a field-trip to virginia...NICE.

Until Then...

-WP

Hooray! I Went an Entire Weekend Without My Blog...

The title pretty much says it all...I'm searching for something to write about...I'm going back to work tomorrow so I should have something fantastic to write about...Right On.


-WP

I've Discovered That There Are Just Some Things That You Can't Look Cool Doing...

I know it's hard to believe that even I find it hard to look cool in certain situations, because someone you've never met, who can capture your attention has got to look cool in most situations. But I'm getting off track.

Two of the main things, and there are more but I'm going to address these particular hard-to-look-cool-in situations; a man eating an ice cream cone and anyone standing in a line.

Famous WWE wrestler Goldburg could be standing in a tank of pirahnas, wearing an acid soaked jumpsuit, with his cueball head on fire, but if was eating an ice cream cone, even the most puny guy would call him a fag or even a Douche. It just isn't man food. Guinness is man food. A triple stacker at the BK lounge is man food. An ice cream cone, just isn't manly. I'm in no way implying that ice cream cones aren't delicious because they are. They are a flavor explosion. Here are (5) rules that I've come up with, just now, to help men, like myself who enjoy a cone every once in a while.

1) It's ok to eat a cone if you are taking a small child out for an icy treat.
2) You are sharing it with Hiedi Klum or Shakira.
3) You've constructed a bombproof and thus windowless bunker in your front yard and there's no way for your buddies to inadvertently see you munching away at an ice cream cone.
4) You or one of your family members is dying and the only way to save them is to have an ice cream cone.
5) I included this rule only to say that #4 will never happen so if I catch you eating one and you whip out rule #4 I will stab you in the throat.

If you get tricked into eating an ice cream cone by whichever hooker you've taken out to a Marble Slab or Stone Cold Creamery, and one of your buddies happens to see you, you are indebted to him and owe him a beer.

Another place it is really hard to look cool is standing in line. I mean seriously. I was standing in line at the bank of all places and I was thinking about hurting myself. I've never been or had any desire to be a cutter, until just then. Here's a sampling of the people around me in line.

Guy One: Looks like he just rolled out of bed, wearing mismatched sweat top and bottoms with boots and a parka.

Girl One: Is standing with Girl Two and they are being really loud and thinking that people want to hear what drivel is coming out of their collective MOUTH. Girl One's body was having a race with itself, her boobs were racing her stomach to see which one could get farther from her body. Her breasticles were losing.

Girl Two was also chubby and wearing a smallish shirt that was winning the battle of letting her stomach fall out over the top of her pants.

Guy Two: Thought he was doing a great job standing in line. He was making small talk with everyone and laughing and carrying on like being in line was his favorite thing ever. When all he was doing was annoying me.

Tiny Family One: A father, mother, baby, and brother. The whole time mother was telling father how adorable baby had been all day. There's one thing I really hate. Other people's children. Especially if I'm standing in line listening to how cute they are.

Guy Three: was a gansta, straight up. Doo Rag, drum major ball cap, baggy-ass jeans, huge"I'm smuggling a buick" shirt and matching parka. He was your stereotypical G. Answering his phone like it was Hov, himself, Like the Jigga was on the horn asking him how his line standing experience was going...

Girl Three: There was also a very tiny, very pregnant lady who wasn't talking to anyone, she was content to just stand there and be pregnant, but alas she would have been fine if her phone didn't ring. I was two people from the teller when I heard Girls Just Wanna Have Fun, piercing the stale bank air at Oh I don't know 9,000 decibles. NICE!

There's the setting. Here I am in the middle of this thinking, "I wonder how good I'm looking?" Then I thought probably not that great. I'm surrounded by people I don't care about and have no desire to interact with. Then it hit me! You can't look cool standing in line, unless it's the line to get into heaven. Cause at least there you're going to heaven. Everything else just seems dumb. Next time you are in line look around at how bored and boring the people around you look. It will be painful, I promise, but worth it especially if you look at the people that are behind you, because even if one of them is looking better than you, you are still in front of them in line.

I'll talk to you all later,

WP

I Found IT and IT's Amazing...Enter The Ultimate Gizmo...

I mentioned that Douche is the ultimate word a little while back and if you are one of those people who might be to timid to whip out a "Piss Off, Douche-Stick..." Then this might just be the thing for you...

Douche Cards

Check these kids out and let me know what you think. I'm a fan, even though I'm not one to be shy about calling someone a DouchCannon...ha ha....Money!

Happy hunting.

-WP

Um...Having a Hard Time Thinking of a Title...

I owe you a post because it's been a whole day since I graced you with my thoughts and ponderings.

Nothing is going on. I'm sitting in my living room watching T.V. and waiting for my laundry to get done.

Scrubs is a fantastic show. Sarah Chalke is smokin' hot. I'm also a bit distracted by her perky, hot atttitude and rockin' body.

Here you go, Um...durnit...I'm out of anything to say. I have nothing. I might have something later...Until then...

Piece Out!

Waxed...It's Not That Bad...And It Looks Sexy as Hell...

That's right, Public. I got my back waxed and it was a fantastic experience. For all of you who don't know, I'm Italian and German and thus hirsute...

So I travelled to a local community college where their cosmetology department offers at a reduced rate, various beauty enhancements. Including but not limited to, back waxing.

I opted for the back wax or the "bax" as I'm now referring to it as. The nice girls there asked if I'd ever had a bax. I of coursed haven't so I told them no, but that I wasn't worried. I'm a tattoo guy, how bad could it be? So I pulled off my favorite, Commerce Bank, shirt and took my spot on the table. (NOTE: I don't bank with Commerce Bank, but I do enjoy advertising for them.)

So they smatter the scalding hot wax onto my back, "they" happen to be Crystal and Kathy, students at the school.

They waxed and stripped and then ripped the strips off, over and over. It was time consuming but, they did a great job and I plan on going back for touch ups to fight against my genes.

About an hour and a half later my back was hairless and I'm now sitting here writing about it.
I'm going to recommend it to anyone who has hair they don't want...waxing is the bomb. All the talk about it hurting really bad is all hype...it's a fantastic invention. Thanks for reading....

It's Random Advice Time

...hey. it's good to be back and thanks for having me. this time i've brought some friends with me, but you'll meet them later. let's get this party started. for those looking for a first-class gift for that special someone this v-day, this post is for you! i know this is a bit belated but it's actually quite useful year round. buy condoms. nothing says happy valentine's day like a good night in the sack and one solid pink line as opposed to two. i know...good call, and you're welcome.-2cool4school

As I Quickly Close in On god Status...Bask in My Glory...and Shield Your Eyes From My Halo...

I commented on Anna Nicoles' death the other day and mentioned that I told my roommate; The Alena, how cool I thought it would be if she died of an overdose of the same crap her retarded son OD'd on.

Half-assed drumroll please!

SHE DID! BADOW! Methadone. Cha Cha Ching! I should have put some money on it.

Thanks. Talk to you guys later, I'm gonna go brag and perhaps, think outside the bun and buy myself a celebration burrito.

-WP

Valentimes Day is Wicked Gay...Especially if You Were at Walmart Last Night Around Midnight-ish

So I was on the phone with ITE, while walking around Walmart, trying to figure out what I was going to get my Manda for V-day. I instantly reverted back into "People Watching for Blog Fodder" mode and saw a bunch of people walking around, zombie-like with cute little things in their hands and a look on their face that said I-Haven't-Been-With-Person-Long-Enough-To-Really-Know-What-They-Like-So-I-Hope-They-Like-This.

"This" ranged from tiny red plush bears with pink hearts sewn into them, to Walmart flowers, to enourmous cardboard heart boxes full of Russell Stover's chocolate candies. For the descerning man or woman Walmart flowers are the ones that you pick up on our way to your mother's house on Sunday afternoon for brunch or for your buddies' wife when she invites you over for dinner.
Walmart flowers given as Valentines' flowers, scream; I totally forgot that Valentines' Day was going to be on the 14th of February this year, becuase it was on the 9th of April last year and everytime they change the date I never get the memo. I'm not sure who "they" are but they like throwing a wrench into the works of confused men who constantly ask themselves why the woman they're with are with them. Especially if she is way too hot for them and/or ridiculously out of their league.
I am guilty of being poor, right before V-day, thus I was unable to call a proper florist and get a custom bouquet of multi-colored carnations delivered to my sweeties' office. But I'm not guilty of even, remotely attempting to substitute a custom, delivered bouquet of multi-colored carnations, masterfully assembled by professionally trained flower jockey, with Walmart flowers. Women, as goofy as they look sometimes, can see the barely on the cusp of wilting, baby's breathe ridden bouquets of been-manhandled-and-been-sitting-in-water-too-long WALMART flowers. They'll act like they like them, by dropping the classic; "They're beautiful!" Followed by the infamous I-really-hate-this-guy nose crinkle and shoulder shrug. NICE!

I went the completely opposite direction and got her something that I knew we could share along with something thoughtful, then I replaced something for her, after she blatantly lost the ones I'd lent her. I bought her the movie; Madagascar, we can share that. I bought her some suger free chocolate covered peanuts, to show my support of her diet, and after she lost my brand-new Ipod earphones. I bought her some schnazzy new noise-cancelling ear buds for her workout adventures.

I should have posted this as a warning post because then it would have been longer and full of advice that men everywhere would print out, laminate and stick in their wallets. Sheep, you are all Sheep. Until tomorrow or later on today, Farewell.

Piece Out!

Step Up...Another Repeat...I'm Consolidating...Chill the Eff OUT.....

I've come to the conclusion that most of my blog posts are birthed from revelations that I've had about friends of mine who at random times in my life, simply come through for me. Coming through for me doesn't mean that they loaned me money, saved me from a burning house, but they were there when I needed someone.

I went back through my posts and there they were. The majority of my posts are me realizing how much certain people mean to me and me feeling that I might not be able to go visit them and tell them to their faces or give them a hug for just being keen folk, but I feel that my Blog is a fine place to say Thank You for being a fantastic individual and YOU make my life a rosier place to be.

One such friend of mine is my fine, friend Beth from the Washington area. I've never met Beth from the Washington area. Though we met through a work phone call, we instantly appreciated each others' ability to understand. Whether we are telling dirty jokes, laughing at each other, or sharing epiphanies we've had; we 'get' each other.

There are people that we come across in our daily lives that if we, in a spirit of sincerity, made inquiry into each other's lives we'd find that everytime we learn something new about the other we find our lives are enriched and strengthened.
There isn't a cosmic rule book that dictates that we must show an interest in anybody's life but our own, but if we look at the basic make up of people, we'll find that everyone enjoys meeting people who are genuinely interested in them...
Everyday we come into contact with people who have something going on. The checkstand girl, the guy you bought coffee from this morning, or just some stranger you sit next to on the bus...
We must be vigilant and not let our routine allow the people in our lives become 'faceless' and fade into the background of our lives.
Beth and I could have merely conducted our business and never spoken again. But we didn't and both of us have gained a dear friend.

Another perk to becoming aquainted with the people in our lives is that the relationships will be much more pure than us 'scoping-out' the people around us and'filtering' people in and out of our live. We have nothing to hide from the unassuming people that populate our lives.

Another such individual is my new girlfriend, Manda. She works at the local branch of an insurance company who I won't mention their name bacause they aren't going to pay me for this small bit of free advertising. I will however say that "...they aren't 100% in love with your tone right now." But I called her about three weeks after I returned from fighting our War on Terror, to ensure that my coverage was still good and to make sure that, that damn gecko hadn't pooped all over my policy. Gecko poop, never comes out. Not with a Tide pen or Mom spit or anything. (DISCLAIMER** Tide is getting a letter from me demanding $0.05 every time I mention them in this particular post.) But anyway what should have been a 6.5 minute transaction turned into a 25min conversation about why a hot sounding chick was in J-ville and wasn't married. I know what you are thinking..."Just cause she sounds hot doesn't mean she is..." (Thanks, Ass.) So we had a delightful conversation and proceed to have them for the following week and a half...we didn't actually meet each other until she invited me to a Christmas party with her folks. Who does that though? Really! Hey yeah we've never met but come hang out with me and my folks...But enjoying the challenge of winning over said wholesome, well-reared, socially adjusted, intelligent, woman of phenomenal breeding and her Patriachal, hierarchy was just what this Kid needed. So we've been seeing each other for the last almost two months and so far, so good....
I told all of you that so you would see that I practice what I preach...So go out there and make some friends....

I love you all and God Bless...

I Stole This From My Old Blog...If Its a Repeat For You...Sorry...

It's come to my attention that love is something entirely missunderstood and everyone wants to be in it, without fully acknowledging the responsibilities involved with loving.My frequent use of the word has come under scrutiny because I use it to describe my relationships and feelings for a few women in my life and my best friend Patrick McH. I'll address Patrick first because it's the easiest. **EDITOR'S NOTE (The Main Difference is being IN love and just PLAIN loving.)**

My friend Patrick McH is a fine individual, one of the finest, and he and I have been through thick and thin together and we just happen to be the two baddest m*th*rf*ck*rs on the planet. Also I love his family, Brit and Haiden are just as much my family and I'd do anything for them.But the real motivation behind this post is my frequent use of it towards women with whom I've developed a relationship that didn't start out, nor has it evolved into anything romantic or sexual. It's a purely platonic relationship yet without it I fear my life would be much less colorful and much more bleak and depressing. The three main recipients of this 'love' are my dear, dear friends Sharon, Chrissy, and Lydia.


Sharon is a delight. Pure and simple. She and I have had many a fun romp together. I advised her on the purchase of her new automobile while she tirelessly listens to me rant and rave about things that aren't problems, yet having someone to talk to about the just helps clear the air. While on the flip-side she is perfectly comfortable calling, emailling or otherwise contacting me if she is finding it hard to cope with problems at hand. I find that having a friend like Sharon makes seemingly large problems dissapate. She is my devil's advocate as I am hers. It also helps that we are in the same line of work and we've been in this line of work for a combined total of close to 10years so if she hasn't seen it, I have and vice versa. This love is not a romantic love, nor sexual love, this is an unconditional, I'm here when noone else is and even if they are, kinda of love. Lova ya, Shar.


Christastic, is my dear friend because she also is in the same line of work I'm in which is Public Relations for those who don't know. She's also been able to help me during my deployment with funny anecdotes about her shenanigans back in VA and also by sending me much needed supplies to combat the boredom of being on a ship for months on end, i.e. coloring books, drink mixes, and cans of spaghetti Oh's. This love is a love that knows that we're there for each other, when she heads out on her next deployment I'm going to be right there sending her fun little trinkets and keeping her stocked up on stories about how much fun we are having without her and talking about the loads of fun we'll have upon her return. Thanx, Chris, Love ya.

Lydia, another PR folk, we have a dendancy to travel in packs, is another outstanding friend whom I've spent countless hours talking to. She stimulates my brainmush by coming up with off the wall ideas that if people weren't so self absorbed might actually work. We've spent countless weekends together when we didn't feel like trollin' for the opposite sex. It's a goodtime to hang-out with someone without having to impress them or feel like if you don't bring your A-game they're going to write you off. Love ya, Dave.

Love isn't exclusively for use between family, people you are boinkin', and boyfriends and girlfriends. While it's a good ideal and feeling to attach to any of the aforementioned arrangements, it might be more accurate to use when you realize that without a certain someone in your life, things might could be (thars some NC for ya) less good. Because let's face it who doesn't like feeling taken care of? Who hates the thought of having a relationship where you don't ever feel like you owe the other person anything? Come with me on this journey by taking stock in your 'friends'. I have. Figure out who you could never hear from again and it wouldn't even faze you. I know you've got those friends. I have them. I don't love them. They are accessories to my existance, nothing more. While I also know that you've got those chums that just hearing their voice over the phone or getting that email, floods your mind with fantastic memories of times that you and that person shared. Times that will pepper all of your stories with all of your future friends. Goodtimes. Goodtimes with Friends.That's all for now...know that I love you guys...for the others that are reading this know that I Love You, too...Piece out.

A Day Without Sunshine is Like, Night....

Right! Not much is happening, I've taken some "sick-days" for the moment and I'm going to enjoy doing nothing for a bit. The only problem with this is that I'm not in my normal work environment, thus I don't have much to write about.

I guess I could come up with something profound and ponder-worthy but you know what? I'm not going to. How about that? That's what I thought. Gym Class Heroes are a fantastic band.

I'm seriously not feeling anything to write. Thanks for stopping by. Really. It means the world to me that you are keeping up your, effortless side of our relationship. All you need to do is stop surfing porn on your work PC and navigate over to the BlockThat! domain and check out whatever's been stewing in my tiny, articulate brain, that I've decided to share with you.

It's all reading with you. You are merely a consumer. You mean the world to me, but all you do is use, use, use. Take, take,take. Only some of you give back. But the few of you, motivate me to continue mulling things over with you...This is basically this my "Thinking Out Loud Place".

I've got some serious bills to pay. Man. Payday tomorrow. Nice.

Snow tires. Why are snow tires so funny? Go ahead, interject "Snow Tires" into a random conversation. It's magical. i.e.:

Scene: Guy One and Two work at an insurance company and they are cubicle-mates, in this scene Guy One is obviously eating a "Handful of Emerald nuts" (In effort to keep up his energy, so Robert Goulet doesn't get him fired.) When Guy One turns to him and says;

Guy One: "Hey Bill, what's goin on, man?"
Guy Two: "Nothing, just shopping for snow tires."

HA! Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! That is hilarious. It's funny cause he's actually NOT shopping for snow tires. haha, classic.

Two missions for you Bloggites: Watch out for Robert Goulet and use Snow Tires in a conversation and let me know how it goes.

Piece Out!

Death. Hooray! Death. No. No. NO! Death is Sad.

I went to the wake the other day for an old man. An old man who after years of loving his wife, family and community, couldn't bear the burden of his degenerative arthritis and took his life.

I went to the wake the other day, and met members of this kindly man's family. I hugged his wife, daughter, son, and I shook his grandsons' hands.

I went to the wake the other day, not knowing anyone but his daughter and wife. Left the wake seeing that along with raising a family, this man touched hundreds or even maybe thousands of people during his lifetime. It took literally two hours to stand in line at the funeral home waiting to pay my respects and get one last look at this fine, fine man.

I went to the wake the other day, and found myself thinking how many people would show up if I died? Have I made enough of an impact on the people that I've come into contact with that they would gladly, or rather sadly but willingly, stop what they were doing to console my family or pay last respects? I know that I've met tens of thousands of people since I've been alive and I do everything I can to make every encounter mean something. I like the idea of leaving a department store after having a conversation with the checkstand girl or guy and learning just a bit about them and them, me. Neither of us mey never think on that conversation again, but for that brief, fleeting moment, both of us knew that there was one person interested in us.

I went to the wake the other day, and the thought struck me, 'What would I have to do to ensure that people would remember me and bemoan my passing?' Then it hit me as I left the funeral home, 'I don't want anyone to bemoan my passing.' I want people to be glad that they were able to meet me, that they look back on every transaction with me as a pleasant encounter, that they can recall during my wake or funeral that I really cared about them.

I went to the wake the other day, and I planned my own wake; Kegs, Cake, and Laughs. I want people to celebrate my life, not mourn because it's over. Regardless of when I die I want everyone who's come in contact with me to rejoice that I lived well and loved every minute of it.

I went to work today with the wake I went to the other day on my mind...

MisSpeak on Your Time..Think Before you Speak...

People who frequently misspeak annoy me. What's so hard about thinking before you speak? God gave you a brain with the fantastic capability to compute thoughts into cognitive streams of knowledge that if you string them together, form complete sentences. Yet despite that, some people constantly say things that are either grossly offensive or just plain ridiculous.
That brings me to the beginning of my fantastic story:
Ready? GO!

So I was driving about with my Manda...and she noticed some grafitti on the wall that read "F*CK BLOOD" and had a Star of David spray painted next to it. Upon seeing the grafitti Mandy said,"Isn't that the Swastika Star?" I was speachless. She might have well said that the Holocast never happened. I mean, could you confuse two more opposite things? The Star of David and a Swastika.

Here we go with a little segment I'm going to call...Good Bar Knowledge with Warren:

If you reverse the Swastika you have a symbol that is beloved by the religion of Shintoism. Reversed the Swastika means Life and Good Luck and has nothing to do with the eradication of 6million Jews or the hell-bent dictator Adolf Hitler.

SHAMELESS PLUG: Mein Kampf is a fantastic book that I'll recommend to all my readers. Hitler was deranged, but a genius.

My Mandy doesn't misspeak often but when she does, she really does. Thanks for listening. Piece Out.

Douche...You're getting a bit musty....

Douche is an awesome word. I've been using it with fantastic results, lately. People can be douches. Places can be douche or douchey. i.e.: "The club is douche, let's leave..." You can use it to describe events; "This day is douche...let's leave...." Douche is not only a noun to decribe feminine hygiene products, but it's also an adjective. i.e.: "That guy is such a douche...let's leave...."

Douche is also a fun thing to use as a pre-fix. i.e. Douchebag, by far is the most common. Douchecycle, Douche-Monkey, Doucherageous, Douchetastic, Douchelicious, and the ever popular Douche-Stick.

I'm opening the forum: If you have a Doucheism feel free to post it on here...until then Adios, DoucheNuggets....

Insrt Rndm Ttl Hr....A wrld wtht vwls s fn....

No Vowels. Ha Ha, Clever.

I'm posting here as a man, who really doesn't enjoy working. Especially right now. I just got done working three days straight on the yearbook that I mentioned in the last post. I'm busting my hump over this thing and it never seems like it's going anywhere. I went to work at the normal time two days ago; 8:30 to 4:30. I left and went to dinner with Manda and her folks and by 8pm I was back at work, sitting at my desk inserting photos from every branch and division within the company. Individual photos in pure yearbook format. I got 5 of the 7 divisions done, which come to about 120 photos a piece, and left around 3:30am. I'm a tired kid.

Two days ago I recieved a call from a high school girlfriend who told me that one of our older friends from the neighborhood who suffered from degenerative arthritis, retired to his bathroom and proceeded to blow his brains out. His lovely wife found him the next morning. I will be attending his wake today and his funural tomorrow.

More death: Anna Nicole Smith is dead. She was 39 and the cause of death is still being determined. This, very soon after her 20-ish year old son died of an overdose.

I casually mentioned to my room mate that I would appreciate it if when they did the autopsy that she died of the an overdose of the same substance that killed her son. I would enjoy that. My roomie said that I was insensative. I think that would make for some great news!

I wish I had something else to write about but I'm scraping the bottom of the barrel with this. But considering that I'm going to be attending a funeral tomorrow, expect a post about death or the value of life or something along those lines....until then...Love, Piece, and Snow Tires...

Good Morning, My Fair Friends and Fiends...

I'm at work...sitting at my desk...just got done working for 24 straight hours...I'm trying to figure out when I'm going to be sent home for a bit of a nappy, nap. YAaawn...

Let's see what's new? I'm assistant coaching my little brother's basketball team, I'm tired of my job, and I'm going out to Colorado to visit my fantastic friend, Dirks California, who hasn't graced this site with his presence in a quite, long time.

I'm so tired...I'm having trouble thinking straight lines, taste good and are also good for wall-hangings about heads of lettuce, shopping for snow tires, while running away from cholesterol.

I'm working on the layout for a yearbook type project for our company...we've been working on it for the past couple of months and the publishing company is really sticking it to us. I'm tired I'm sorry for the weakness of this post but I'm seriously, very tired...I'm running on three hours of sleep...love ya'll...

Piece Out.

I Have The Power...So I'm Gonna Use It...Deal With It.

Hello. How are you doing today? I am very well. I'm thinking of a number...between 1 and 3, can you guess which one I'm thinking of? No you stupid, Douche, it's not 5. You are so stupid and you are not attractive.

That had absolutely nothing to do with this post. I posting about people. As it usually is. I'm an avid people watcher. I enjoy watching them interact with each other. I enjoy thinking about how superior I am to them. I also enjoy their missfortunes. What is funnier than watching someone fall down? Seriously. Especially if it's an adult. Kids, you expect to be a little wobbly. But adults are hilarious. My favorite thing to say when I'm in close proximity to a person who falls down, ready? Here we go: "First day on the new legs?" Ha ha Ha ha. That is never, not, funny. haha. Well I'm at work so I thought I'd share that with you. Thanks and if you use it let me know how it goes. Piece Out.