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
8.13.2007
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
-WP
8.01.2007
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
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
7.31.2007
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
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.
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.
7.26.2007
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
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
7.25.2007
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
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 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
6.09.2007
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
-Piece Out
5.16.2007
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
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
5.14.2007
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
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.
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
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
5.10.2007
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
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
5.07.2007
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
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...
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...
5.03.2007
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
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
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
3.23.2007
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.
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.
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