Road Trippin'.

I'm a really laid back individual, not much gets me riled up. I don't curse...much, especially not when I'm around other people. I don't know what happens when I get behind the wheel, but I'm a different person sometimes. It's funny how the slightest thing on the roadway can lead to the f-bomb and things that I would never say in any other setting.

Sometimes I catch myself and laugh it off, I certainly don't mean the things I'm saying, but it seems to make the commute more interesting. I've found that my favorite term to call other drivers who aren't driving so good is, "Dick-wad". Don't know where it comes from, but it just comes out, it makes me laugh sometimes afterwards. I guess my reaction depends on the severity of the actions of other drivers. You might get a, "What the 'f' are you doing, Grandma?", when some old lady stops prior to merging into traffic on the interstate. And when someone won't let me merge into traffic, you'll probably get a, "Real nice, thanks a lot, Dick!", or "Bitch!", it just depends. The big one is when someone almost causes me to wreck, that's when I get testy. "Bleep....f'in'...bleep, what the f'ity f are you f'in' thinkin', you stupid f'in, dick-wad!", and so on, and so on, but you get the idea.

I know I'm not the best driver in the world, and I know I've done some really stupid things behind the wheel. I'm not above cursing myself out either. All in all, at the end of the day, I'm just thankful to make it to my destination safely and can laugh off the little things that happened along the journey. I'm not really mad at those people I cursed out along the way, they're people just like me, just trying to get to where they're going. It's like the cartoon with the sheepdog and the wolf, at the end of the day, everything is cool.

Fuzzy Childhood Memories VI

First Job - 1992
Maybe you cut the neighbor's yard for a few bucks a week. Maybe you flipped burgers at some fast-food joint. Maybe you bagged groceries at Piggly Wiggly, or maybe you just gave out BJs in the parking lot for a quick buck or two...It doesn't matter, the point is, everyone remembers their first paying job whether it was good or bad. When you're 15 or 16 years old, you'll take a the $4.25 an hour and think you're well on your way to being the next Donald Trump.

$4.25 an hour, that's what I made at my first job. That was the minimum wage in 1992. I got a gig working at a local sandwich, slash ice cream shop because the lady that owned it went to my church and my parents thought it would be good for me to get a little work experience. I wasn't that thrilled about it, but one of my friends was working there too, so it made it a little better. I don't think he was too keen on working either.

It's not like the job was hard or anything. You pretty much just ran the drive-thru, scooped some ice cream, and mopped the floors. It wasn't so bad. We got a 15 minute break and a $5 allowance to buy food. Some days you got to change the message on the sign outside or do something cool like sweep the entire parking lot. That was about as good as it got.

Most of the time I was manning the drive-thru, something that I hated to do, although I did get mad tips. Actually I only got tipped once and it was only 15 cents. I don't think I had taken an economics class up to that point, but somehow I knew that 15 cents added to my minimum wage salary was not worth the opportunity cost of having to clean out the women's bathroom. You might as well have been sending me to clean out the reactor at Chernobyl 'cause to me, it was one of the most godforsaken places on Earth. I remember the first time they sent me in there, I was thinkin' it couldn't possibly be as bad as the guys bathroom, after all, women are the fairer sex. Man, I was in for a shock. First off, this place stunk like I don't know what, kind of like someone took a dump in a can of Starkist. There were spent tampons and pads all over the floor, it looked like a war zone. I didn't want to touch that stuff even with my rubber gloves on. I pretty much just held my breath for as long as I could until I could saturate the whole place with bleach. Then I would just flush the toilet and get the heck out of there. It got to the point where that was pretty much all I did...Flush the toilet and spay some bleach and be out with the quickness. It wasn't long, however, before the boss lady called me into her office, telling me that I needed to do a better job cleaning the women's restroom. Not long after that, and this is no coincidence, I decided that I had better focus more on my studies and playing on the baseball team and that I really didn't have time for all this and a job, so I decided to quit.



It was sort of like this when I had to clean out the women's restroom...

Yes, I will always remember my first job. Although I don't list the skills I learned from that job on my resume, nor do I hearken back to those days to answer questions during an interview. I will say that the things I experienced are forever burned into my cerebral cortex whether I want them there or not.

Fuzzy Childhood Memories V

The Case of the Dented Skull - 1985
It was normal day just like any other. I was about eight or nine, my brother was five, and my sister was less than an year old. We were just being kids that day, jumping around on my parents bed, having fun. We were supposed to keeping an eye on my sister and that's what we were doing. It's no fun to just sit there and watch her, so we were trying to make her laugh, jumping around and acting crazy.

Here's where the details begin to get a little cloudy. I don't know how it happened exactly, but you know how babies' heads are really soft and the skull has yet to harden? Well, for some reason, my brother dented my sister's head like a ping pong ball, only it wasn't popping back out. She was screaming and wouldn't stop, so we began to panic.



It was obvious that something needed to be done and with me being the oldest, I took it upon myself to fix this dent in my sister's cranium the only way I knew how. The only training that I had was fixing dented ping pong balls. I knew from mashing on the sides of the ball around the dent that sometimes you could fix it, so with this knowledge, I began mashing on my sister's head around the dent trying to get it to pop out. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, her head returned to it's normal shape, much to our relief.

Not wanting to get into trouble for this, my brother and I both swore never to speak of this incident again and we kept this secret for many years until just a few years ago. We figured because my sister did not end up retarded or anything that we could finally bring this story to light. Who knows what effect that day had on my sister's mental capacity. Maybe she would be a genius today if not for our irresponsibility. We're just glad she turned out normal.

How NASCAR Saved my Life.

Old Man Winter has it out for me and my truck, the other day, it was snow, but today it's the freezing rain. Freezing rain was looking like plain old rain until I hit a bridge on Aviation Parkway, right near the airport. I was following a friend to his new town home, it was raining a little, but not bad. We had been going up to 75 mph on I-40, over bridges and overpasses without any regard for the weather, the roads appeared to be in good condition. Once we got to Aviation Parkway, everything still appeared to be fine, but that would soon change. Just before we made it to the bridge, there was a cop who was pulled over on the side of the road behind another car with it's flashers on. This caused us to slow down to around 50 mph or so, still way too fast for what was about to happen. As I was about to cross the bridge, I noticed my friend in the car ahead of me slide a little, but by that time, it was too late for me. I felt the back end of my truck start to slide out to the right, I knew I was in trouble. That's when adrenaline took over and instincts kicked in from hours of playing NASCAR video games on my computer. I was into a skid and luckily there were no cars in the lane to my right because I had to chase the rear end to keep from going around. The steering wheel was just spinning wildly and I ended up over-correcting as the back end was still out of control swinging back to the left. At this point, I'm fighting it hard until finally I made it to the other side of the bridge where the pavement wasn't icy, but wet. I'm still going sideways, so I brace for the tires to take grip and once this happened, the truck began wobbling wildly from side to side, so I wasn't in the clear yet. I just kind of held on and tried to keep the wheel straight until finally everything settled down just in time to go over another bridge. This time, I was slowed down just enough to keep from spinning out, however I was on the verge of losing it again. After all this, I decided to just try to make it back home, so I just crept along until I finally made it back in one piece. I felt like I just made it back to pits at Daytona after making it through the "big one". All I need now is four fresh tires and splash of fuel, but I think I'll just stay in for the rest of the the day and count my blessings.

Storm of the Century

How can an inch of snow cause this many problems? Does everyone become completely retarded when it snows down here? The city of Raleigh and the Triangle area were literally paralyzed by a freak snow storm. I tried to make it to work, but no matter which way I turned, there were problems...Cars strewn everywhere. School buses were turned sideways blocking all four lanes of traffic. SUVs were slamming into ditches, it was nice. Because all the routes that I could think of were blocked, I just turned around and tried to make it home, but with 80,000 miles on my tires and only rear wheel drive to propel me, I decided not to attempt to navigate a steep, icy hill about a mile away from my place. I parked in a nearby deserted parking lot and walked the rest of the way home in the freezing cold. The rest of the day I just watched the news and all the people who were stuck in traffic for up to eight hours and how kids were having to spend the night at their schools. All this for an inch of snow...That's crazy.

What were these chicks thinkin'?

From wral.com

New Job.

Today I started a new job. I work with this guy:





...















No, he doesn't wear this to work, or I would not be there.

This Old Apartment.

Where is Bob Villa's ass when you need him? This old apartment is getting ridiculous. It's always nice to take a shower while standing in sewage that's backed up into your tub. That's like the third time in a year that it's happened. We suspect the Rosie O'Donnell types that live next door as the cause of the clog, but I really don't want to think about that. That's not the only problem we've had. On Christmas Eve, the hot water hose sprung a leak and soaked the carpet. The maintenance guy had to come out and fix it and the carpet dude had to set up a fan and dehumidifier and leave it running all weekend. The ceiling has leaked, with water pouring out of one of the light fixtures. It's just one thing after another. I see spiders crawling around all the time and just the other day, we caught a mouse. It had been crawling around on the counter tops, taking a dump all over the stove, real nice when you're getting ready to have breakfast. What will it be next time? Don't know how much more I can take.

Fuzzy Childhood Memories IV

Kirby Rocks Christmas (1980's)

Christmas is a time of giving and spending time with family. Our family would gather at my grandparents' home for the traditional meal and exchanging of gifts. I'm sure it was not that much different than any other family Christmas celebration, pretty basic stuff, basic unless you count Kirby. For those of you about to rock Christmas, I salute you, and yes, I mean you, Kirby. Kirby is my aunt's brother and we only saw him on rare occasions, and Christmas was one of those occasions. A guitar master, Kirby was packing a Strat nearly every place he went. He resembled a cross between Neil Young and Meatloaf, but he rocked out to Whitesnake and Poison right in the middle of Christmas. He would sit on the couch, oblivious to everyone, just stroking out licks on his guitar while we all exchanged gifts. Kirby never had any gifts to open, but he didn't care, he had the gift of music and sometimes that's all you need.


If Neil Young and Meatloaf had a kid, Kirby would be his name-o.

Fuzzy Childhood Memories III

The Chesnut Wars (Late 1980's)

This wasn't some George Lucas dreamed up battle with Yoda and Jabba the Hut, this was real. We had to defend our turf from the fat kid across the street or he might come over and bust the springs off our trampoline.

The battle lines were drawn in the back yard between two chesnut trees separated by thirty yards of open field. Having him out numbered four-to-one we wasted no time with our aggression. My older cousin began launching the first wave of chesnuts, narrowly missing their target. The response was swift, but expected as we were able to avoid the flying projectiles. The battle raged for what seemed for like an hour, neither side backing down, each taking minor hits, but remaining steadfast.

With ammo running low, our portly opponent launched a desperate final campaign, peppering our positions with fists-full of chesnuts. Though risky, this maneuver proved to be decisive as a lone stealthy chesnut made a direct hit on my left eye leaving it blackened and swollen. At this point, we knew that we had been defeated, reluctantly surrendering use of the trampoline. Thus it sits today barren of springs, a lasting relic of the Chesnut Wars.

Sold Down the River

Well, so much for poker, I suck. The state finals were tonight at Jillian's. There were like 130 people there and I would guess I finished about 120th. If I had just went out first I could have won a 'Poker for Dummies' set, but anyway. Okay, so here's how it went down. I have the low stack on the table, down to my last 2200 and the big-blind is coming to me next hand. I'm dealt a pair of tens, so I figure it's now or never...Now's my chance. I push it all in and the guy to my left goes all in as well, but everyone else folds. We flip our cards, he has an ace-ten off suited, so I'm up on the hand. The flop comes out...No help to either of us. The turn card...Still no help. The only way I lose now is if an ace comes up on the river. Bang! Ace! I'm dead. I get to go home and watch the Wolfpack blow the lead and lose to the Dookies...Life is real grand.

Fuzzy Childhood Memories II

Dixie Youth Baseball - 1986-1988
I was 10 years old and life was good. Baseball was my passion, Ozzie Smith was the man. My red Nike cleats paid homage to him, although our uniforms were yellow with brown lettering. We wore the Dixie Youth logo proudly on our right sleeve, not really knowing the implications of the 'stars 'n bars' incorporated into it, other than it was like the ones on top of the 'General Lee' in 'The Dukes of Hazzard' and everyone thought 'The Dukes of Hazzard' was cool. Heck, every car horn just about was rigged to sound like the 'General Lee'. What a bunch of rednecks.

I played shortstop for Golden Corral. They were like the Yankees of the Reidsville Dixie Youth League. Golden Corral was one of the finest dining establishments in the whole town and our team enjoyed the perks. After every Monday practice, we were treated to a free meal at the restaurant, we were on top of the world. On the really hot summer days, while other teams were lucky to have lukewarm water with a lead aftertaste, our team had and endless supply of iced down Coke and Mr. Pibb.

I remember a few of the kids on the team. There was Lil' Red, the biggest kid in the league. He would have to buy a new 'Bomb Bat' every week because he hit the ball so hard that the bats would deform on impact. There was Dinky Robertson. He was the kid who always acted cool and tough off the field, but on the field he was always getting hurt and ended up crying every game. Lets see, there was Ricthie Wright, son of a dairy farmer. One day he came to practice with a bandage on his face, apparently he had been bitten in the face by a cow. There were many more, but those are just the few that stick out.

Dixie Youth Baseball was not the Little League World Series, but we didn't care. All we knew how to do was to just have fun. You won some, you lost some. Maybe somebody's dad got mad and beat down the umpire in the parking lot. Maybe some of the parents took it a little too seriously, belittling their kid for not swinging on 0 and 2. So what if some of the kids were already chewing tobacco at the age of 10, it's all just a part of life and growing up I guess.

G-Dog's Famous Pick-up Lines and Phrases

Over the years my good friend G-Dog has said some pretty outrageous stuff, all of which while intoxicated. Here are some things he has said that vividly stand out:

1. "I sure will be glad when they burn this f**cking whore palace down!" - By 'whore palace', he meant a nightclub called Time, which used to be located at the Charlie Goodnight's complex in Raleigh. He said this while walking in the parking lot going to the car to leave. There were two girls walking right next to us...Needless to say, they did not give us their number.

2. "I'm the ugliest man in the world." - He used to use this pick-up line frequently at frat parties. Even if the girl seemed interested in him at first, after uttering those famous words, they usually had to leave for some odd reason.

3. "Don't worry, If you swallow that watch, you'll just sh*t it out in the morning." - It's hard to believe, but yes, he actually did say this to a girl at a party. Don't ask why, the normal human brain cannot comprehend such things.

4. "Bluuuuuuuh!" - Last but not least, this is what he would yell out at the top of his lungs without warning. He did this probably for three straight years before finally getting tired of it. You got used to it after a while and nowadays you kind of miss it.

Got Herpes?

Well, apparently you do. At least that's what my friend, a Valtrex sales-rep, would tell you. He'll tell you a lot of things about herpes that you really don't want to know. The details get more graphic in direct proportion to his blood-alcohol level. From what I gather, GlaxoSmithKline makes their reps watch countless hours of herpes footage, kind of like preparing for the big game on Sunday. The only thing missing is John Madden and a telestrator. This kid went on and on about things he's witnessed at clinics and conferences. All the while, your Cheetos aren't looking so tasty anymore and you just wish he sold Ritalin so that he could give himself a free sample and calm the fudge down. Click on the little sucker below to find out more about herpes from the American Social Health Association.

Lake Johnson Trail

If you live here in Raleigh and you're looking to take a short break to enjoy the great outdoors, then look no further, you've found the place. Lake Johnson is located just a few miles from the NC State campus off of Avent Ferry Road. It offers a nature trail that encircles the entire lake as well as several picnick areas. It has an abundance of nature including water fowl and the elusive college co-ed. You'll find the paved trail good for walking, biking, or jogging with several challenging hills to push your endurance. At the main office, they also offer snacks, boat rentals, and other services. If you go to Lake Johnson, there are things to be on the lookout for. Watch your step, that's not a Snicker's bar_occasionally you run into some goose or dog poop along the trail. You might not smell it until it's too late. You'll also have to watch out for creepy guy who walks around giving his cat a piggy-back ride. Yeah, he's creepy, he'll stare you down through is Coke bottle glasses. Just be aware, no need for concern. All in all, the lake is a great place to spend some time and relax.

Here are some Lake Johnson pics from last winter:

Karate Dude

Working out at the gym is all about how much weight you can lift, not about the proper form and technique. At least that's what you would observe if you went to my gym. There is this one guy, we call him 'Karate Dude' because he sounds like Mr. Miyagi passing a kidney stone the size of Ralph Macchio with each rep. He does this one exercise where he loads about 8 plates on this machine which is used to work your back_the row machine. Well, you're supposed to sit down while doing this exercise, but he stands up and it looks kind of like he's training for the lawnmower olympics. I think the whole gym turns their heads to look with each grunt. It doesn't matter what exercise he's doing, he goes above and beyond the call of duty. Karate Dude, we salute you.

Saved by a Crackhead

Now we've all been approached by crackheads, right? You know they are heading right for you and you know exactly what they want. You don't have crack, they know this, but you have the next best thing, cash. You try to avoid eye contact, but it's too late as you feel the spittle pepper the side of you face from the words, "P-p-please, man, can I_can I have f-five dollas? I j-just want to get some f-food." You're like, "There's a 'Burger King' right here, I'll buy you some food," but apparently they don't have a taste for flame broiled burgers. They say, "Why can't you just give me five dollas?" You might as well just give up at that point, you're not going to get anywhere trying to get through to someone with a one-crack-mind.

This scenario plays out all the time, but when was the last time a crackhead helped you out when you were in a jam? Well, several weeks ago, I was saved by a crackhead. I was heading downtown for poker night at Woody's Tavern, but couldn't find a parking spot. I circled several times with no luck. After a while, I noticed a car pull into a lot close by and park, so I decided to park there as well, allthough there were gates around the lot, but they were all open. There were several cars in the lot and I didn't see any signs that said you couldn't park there, so I figured it was okay.

After several hours, I returned to find that the gates had been closed and my truck was trapped inside. I was trying to figure a way out when I saw a car trying to get out through one of those swinging-arm type gates. A passenger in the car was able to get out and lift the gate just enough for the car to slide by and set the car free. I then pulled up to the gate knowing my truck was a lot higher than the car that just barely squeezed out.

It was looking grim when out of nowhere, a crackhead comes sprinting over. He had noticed what was going on from about fifty yards away. Out of breath he says, "Hang on, man, I got you." With super-crack strength, he lifts the gate over his head, knees wobbling from the exertion, the gate was now just high enough for my truck to make it through. I was free and grateful and I thanked him.

Before I pulled away, I thought I would offer him a few dollars for the help, but before I could even offer he asked right away, "You think you could give me some change?", and by change he meant five dollars. I said, "Sure," and reached in my wallet and pulled out a five which was stuck to another five. I separated the bills and handed one to him. At this point, he saw further opportunity and asked, "Man, how about just giving me that five, too? Come on! Please?" So, without hesitation, I handed over the other five. The old crackhead was satisfied and delighted, he said, "Thank you, man! I love you!", and he gave me a hug. I thanked him for his help and headed on my way home greatly relieved. One man's pursuit of crack had saved my day.

Fuzzy Childhood Memories I

Setting: pre-school, 1979, age: 3 years old. There I was, minding my own business building a tower out of wooden blocks. The tower reached epic proportions and was pushing three feet in height, when all of a sudden...Disaster...A little girl, who will remain nameless, maliciously attacked the structure, reducing it to rubble. I was enraged and gave a stern warning of swift retaliation if it were to happen again. Determined, I pressed on and rebuilt the block tower, restoring it to its original prominence. That's when history repeated itself and there was only one course of action to take...that's right, I bit her in the face. She never knocked over my blocks again. That is what pre-school was for, learning, and everyone learned a lot that day.

Tolcher

This past summer, back in July, I had the day off and decided to play golf. I went to the Raleigh Golf Association because you don't need a tee-time. Since I was by myself they paired me up with a couple of other people, one of which was Michael Tolcher. I didn't know who it was, but it turns out he's a musician and was in town that day to play a show later that night. I ended up going to the show that night not knowing what to expect, but it was really good, he puts on a great show. There were not too many people there, but he still has some teenage groupies that go to all his shows. I would describe the show as funk-rock with a little pop mixed in. Not too bad, lots of energy with a nice sound. Anyway, he seems to be a real nice guy, down to earth and a pretty good golfer, although I think I got him by a couple strokes that day.

He is doing a show with Gavin DeGraw here in Raleigh on Wednesday, January 12, at the Disco Rodeo (formerly The Ritz). If you get a chance, check it out.

San Diego Pics SEP. '04

Pacific Beach, San Diego, CA

Barry Bonds on the Jumbo Tron, Petco Park.















Petco Park, Batting Practice















\Downtown San Diego Palm Trees















Downtown San Diego.

Wolfpack.

Keeping with the 'W' theme of the previous posts, here is one regarding NC State Wolfpack hoops. High expectations have turned to struggle. Team shooting is abominable. I'm not going to say my grandma can shoot any better, but I will say she couldn' t do any worse. Tony Bethel hasn't produced, he's more like Tony Bustel. Julius Hodge has bulked up to a whopping 87 lbs. and his free-throw shooting is suffering. He continues to put up decent numbers, but still he's one of the most overrated players in the country.

The whole team lacks coordination and basic basketball skills such as dribbling, passing, and shooting as well as basic athletic ability. This seems to be a common thread for every Wolfpack team under Herb Sendek. I don't know if the trouble lies in recruiting or coaching style, but it's something. Sendek does get a lot out of his players as far as huslte and defensive effort, but it's not pretty basketball. So many wide open threes and so many bricks. Teams are just going to start packing in the zone and letting 'em fire away. Can everyone say NIT?

World Tavern Poker.

The poker craze is taking Raleigh by storm and I have to admit that I'm caught up in it a little, although I don't take it seriously. I'm just amazed at how many people do take it seriously. These dudes spend like 6-8 hours a night, 5 and 6 days a week playing in these tournaments for little more than the chance to win beer mugs and tee-shirts and accumulate points for bragging rights. You should see some of these characters. Most are college kids just out drinking and finding new ways not to study. You got your regular old drunkards who are just out drinking and a poker game breaks out, they don't have a clue. Then you got your hard-core poker guy that thinks he is the best poker player in the land and tells everyone how close he is to being invited to the 'World Series of Poker' and he keeps you updated on the monthly trip he takes to Vegas where he's high the whole time and never sleeps, but still manages to clean house at the poker table and not wreck his Harley on the way to the strip joint. I just go to get a little second-hand smoke and get out of the house for a night. The smoking has to be the worst part of poker, it's like it's mandatory or something.

Well, the Raleigh city championship is this week...Thursday, January 13th, 7:00 PM at Jillian's downtown. For more info, check out www.worldtavernpoker.com.

Wild Card.

It's playoff time! It's an exciting time of year for football, NFL that is. The college bowl season just seemed all wrong this year, there has to be a playoff. Nobody wants to see the 'Monostat Yeast Infection Bowl' between two .500 teams that can't even finish in the top eight of their conference.

At least we have the NFL. Watched the game at a friends house last night (Jets-Chargers). Brand new 55" Sony LCD HDTV w/ surround sound...sweet. Marty 'Coach of the Year' Schottenheimer...I guess the San Diego fans can go back to hatin' him. The Jets were trying to hand it to them. What was up with that roughing the passer? That was retarded. Anyway, the Jets won, I guess it doesn't really matter much to a Giants fan. Didn't get to see the Rams-Sea Hawks game, heard it was good...Sea Hawks choked, what's new?

Sitting around watching the game with your buddies drinking, you can have some pretty off-the-wall conversations and ideas. We were thinking it might be a good idea to have a cable sports network where anything goes, where the announcers can say anything including profanity. I can just picture Dick Vitale calling a game..."This is awesome, mother-f***er! With a capital 'A'!" I'm sure people will watch that.

Well, back to the Wild Card. I guess today It's Broncos-Colts and Vikings-Packers. I'm thinking the Colts and the Packers move on, Colts could run the table. Peyton is a dork, but he can play and you gotta like that.

Welcome Message.

Welcome Everyone! This is the first posting of just random thoughts and ideas. Nothing here is serious. There is no intention to provide any useful information or to offend anyone. There is no direction...Who knows where this will lead?....