Bob Tres

Dear Diary

2011-07-19T17:38:00.000-07:00

It is day 212 of this befouled journey. I have not scribed anew this book for a week as my hands were broken as a result of failing to smile at our feminine figurehead during the weekly obsequiousity ritual.
Our company is down to twenty-five souls from the original eighty. Our heaviest losses were last Thursday and Friday when we lost two score and three of our crew because of a grave error from our fearless leader.

Morale is very low now, there is an undercurrent of dissent amongst the remainders. "I'll give that cockswaggle Captain a fist-bath!" and other ejaculations have been heard. Hastings has been unique in his loud outbursts and virulent mutterings. I suspect that he will not last long.

Our glorious Captain has been trying to conceal the state of our larders, but his hungry leering follow the more robust of the men. Soon we all will follow suit.

A polite scratch at the door beckons me away for now. Too polite a scratching by a measure, I hope I will return.

Weakly ride report

2011-06-04T22:29:00.000-07:00

For some reason Darthweasel has been rather cagey about letting his image be published to the intertubes. I snapped this picture of him as we were preparing our bikes for a small easy ride this morning, I hope I do not have a jihad declared on me for posting it.

Here is the ride report:
"Let's go this way!" "OK"
This discourse may have been unwise.

DarthWeasel proved to be an able coach. After many grueling uphill miles (with DW shouting "Come on! You ride like old people fu....ride!" we hit the velodrome. Education was provided on the finer points of a team pass. My brain got bigger.

As a reward we had donuts and more steep hills. Each hill was steeper than the last until finally we were actually breaking the laws of physics. This continued until my spirit was completely broken. DW laughed and laughed when I complained, then shouted "Silence! I KEEL you"

When at last we were out of hills to throw ourselves against, it was time to go downhill. And downhill we went, 30 to 40mph powered only by gravity. Many miles we went downhill. And then we were back at maison de Darthweasel

Sadly, I heard a news report that a group of annoyed terrain features altered DW in an unpleasant way.

Weakly ride report

2011-05-01T19:57:00.000-07:00

Not so many miles this week, about 60 ish. I recorded my last ride, by being what Riot Kitty calls "Geeky". Click here to view the map.

Only a few cycling things of interest this week; I picked up some new pedals and shoes that want to kill me. Imagine a human-sized beetle upside down under a bicycle, feet still attached, and you will know what happens when the (defective and homicidal) pedal does not release the shoe. I also (much to Riot Kitty's dismay) purchased a spandex clownsuit. They look funny but it feels like you are riding naked. In a good way.

Darthweasel's bike also has taken a dislike for humanity so we did not ride together this week. This will not abide.

-This post has been inspected and approved.

Why it takes me a long time to blog.

2011-04-09T22:03:00.000-07:00

You will have noticed that there is usually a long gap between my blog postings. I will explain to you why this in necessary and important.

I break down my blog writing process in to separate steps. Each step consumes between a few minutes and a week of my time. I could cut corners and skip some of these steps but I want my readers to have the best experience possible so I do not skimp any part of the process. Here are a few examples:

1: Writing the post. This is the easy part. I only have to ensure that the computer is clean, run a line quality test, measure the voltages and Ph levels of the backup batteries, and adjust the room lighting to the required lumen and color temperature levels. I then type in the content.

2: Verifying content. A copy editor with a contractual obligation is retained at all times to find and document all spelling and grammar errors. This is part of the ISO 9001 program requirement.

3: Verifying media. This is the time consuming part. I must take a 20% random sample of the displayed lettering, remove the sample lot from the screen and subject them to these tests: Opacity (over 80%) Edge smoothness (less than .5 micron) Modulus of elasticity (greater than 3k psi), Specific gravity (over 6.2), Transconductance (over 9 millisiemens), Optical index (within 5% of display surface), Speed of reflected photon propagation (= 6.626 × 10−34h), and reference color wheel for suitability.

Assuming that all components of the blog have passed the physical testing I then send them out for electrical testing to ensure that the FCC, CEN, BSI, and VDE.

These are only a few of the seven steps that I use to engineer the end user's experience to nearly 100% optimum state. I can only control the content at the source. If this blog has any flaws apparent at the terminus, a form 2074.3 /A rev. 2.6 is required to be completed. An associate will be dispatched to correct the consumers equipment, or in semi-rare cases, the consumer.

Osvaldo

2011-03-07T19:00:00.000-08:00

The only remnant of the building's significant history is 4 parallel scratches deep in the door frame, now wet with rain or the synthetic equivalent. Many years ago the mention of "Petrov's Pets and Fish" brought awe and respect to the do-badders of the the city but now it is just another husked squat.

The squinchy little man walks up to the now defunct pet store doorway with reverence draped on him like a large cat. Reaching out and touching the 4 gouges in the wood he shivers a little remembering the sounds of the epic battle fought here, the slap of suckers against fur, claws scraping beak, and ink splashing on the floor tiles.

This is where the Fibonacci three plus five ruled.

This is where the Grey Menace rose to power.

This is where Osvaldo conceded defeat.

This is where the the squinchy man made his pledge.

as much sex appeal as a road accident

2011-01-26T20:08:00.000-08:00

Oh freddled gruntbuggly thy micturations are to me
As plurdled gabbleblotchits on a lurgid bee.
Groop I implore thee, my foonting turlingdromes.
And hooptiously drangle me with crinkly bindlewurdles,
Or I will rend thee in the gobberwarts with my blurglecruncheon, see if I don't!

No pigs, squirrels, or lunar vampires. Only a list.

2011-01-18T21:06:00.000-08:00

I was talking with Riot Kitty when I realized that not everyone knew what the best recorded guitar solos are. I listed off the top 5 (mainstream-ish) guitar solo songs to her, for educational purposes. I will do the same for you. If you disagree, you are wrong.

In no order: Links go to youtube videos.
Comfortably Numb
All along the Watchtower
Bohemian Rhapsody
Cemetery Gates
Sultans of Swing

Now you know. And knowing is half the battle.

Willoughby is...

2011-01-01T18:40:00.000-08:00

Willoughby is too busy for you right now.

Go away.

Go.

About Willoughby

2010-12-31T15:33:00.000-08:00

Willoughby is a pig. He is no ordinary pig -you know, the kind that you see in the grocery store, or in an animated movie. Willoughby is an exceptional pig.

All throughout school Willoughby's teachers would say, "Why don't you apply yourself, you have so much potential!" Willoughby would say to himself, "Why don't you get out of my way, it will reduce your chance of being trampled."

"Potential," Willoughby thought. "Is the difference in pressure in a system. Hmmm...that gives me an idea."

Many years later, the name Willoughby was said in fear. He had never hurt anyone but he had invented a doomsday machine. "Achieve your potential! Convert your matter directly to energy! Smile!" read the large logos on the boxes that Willoughby would leave laying about. "Just push the button!" read the label that was just below a shiny friendly button. No one had ever pushed one as the Willoughby task force collected and stored the machines as fast as they could be manufactured.

Willoughby was getting frustrated. Not one of his quantum devices had been activated. The universe had not been reduced to a flash of light, not even once. Back to the drawing board. Visions of self-pushing buttons danced through his head.

Things do not always work out as planned. Willoughby (who always read before bed) picked up "Death on the Nile" by Agatha Christie. He was hooked. After finishing one Agatha Christie book, he would pick up another, then another. Instead of building a self-pushing button, Willoughby was chain-reading mystery books. Suddenly the idea struck him. He had to deactivate all of the hundreds of doomsday machines that he had built. To do this he needed the help from the wind, the light, and stealth personified: Earl Gray - Ninja at large.

End part 1. Stay tuned for part two.

Propinquus ut tribuo versus.

2010-12-30T14:27:00.000-08:00

Is est duco tenus meus natalis. Is est meus tantum duco down quod EGO diligo is carus.

Discuss.

It will all become clear soon.

2010-12-29T17:14:00.000-08:00

And a few random movie quotes:

A man is defined by his actions, not his memories

Gentlemen, you can't fight in here! This is the War Room!

The word itself makes some men uncomfortable. Vagina.

The central message of Buddhism is not: "Every man for himself."

No, it's pronounced: Fronkensteen.

The suspense is terrible . . . I hope it'll last.

Look at me, jerking off in the shower. This will be the high point of my day. It's all downhill from here.

Fill your hands.

Well, he should have armed himself if he's going to decorate his saloon with my friend.

This is not the blog that you are looking for.

2010-12-22T18:21:00.000-08:00

I was going to post about the cruelty in the Peppermint Bark industry (poor peppermint dogs) but then I saw this chart and decided to post it instead.

You have termites in your smile

2010-12-12T19:38:00.000-08:00

You’re a mean one Mr. Grinch
You really are a heel.
You’re as cuddly as a cactus,
And as charming as an eel,
Mr. Grinch!
You’re a bad banana,
With a greasy black peel!
You’re a monster, Mr. Grinch!
Your heart’s an empty hole.
Your brain is full of spiders.
You’ve got garlic in your soul,
Mr. Grinch!
I wouldn’t touch you
With a thirty-nine-and-a-half foot pole!
You’re a vile one, Mr. Grinch!
You have termites in your smile.
You have all the tender sweetness
Of a seasick crocodile,
Mr. Grinch!
Given the choice between the two of you,
I’d take the seasick crocodile!
You’re a foul one, Mr. Grinch!
You’re a nasty, wasty skunk!
Your heart is full of unwashed socks.
Your soul is full of gunk,
Mr. Grinch!
The three words that best describe you
Are as follows, and I quote,
“Stink, stank, stunk!”
You’re a rotter, Mr. Grinch!
You’re the king of sinful sots!
Your heart’s a dead tomato,
Splotched with moldy, purple spots,
Mr. Grinch!
Your soul is an appalling dump-heap,
Overflowing with the most disgraceful
assortment of deplorable rubbish imaginable,
Mangled-up in tangled-up knots!
You nauseate me, Mr. Grinch!
With a nauseous super naus!
You’re a crooked jerky jockey,
And you drive a crooked hoss,
Mr. Grinch!
You’re a three-decker sauerkraut
and toadstool sandwich,
With arsenic sauce!

Christmas aggression and that bastard Santa

2010-11-28T16:02:00.000-08:00

Parking has just become much more difficult with the soccer moms flinging their SUVs around looking for the perfect parking spot that they feel entitled to. The blood is in the water now, the sharks are all out. People who are polite before thanksgiving will now cheerfully cripple you if you are between them and the pepsi display.

I blame Santa.

Just who does he think he is, self-righteously ignoring international law, spying on you, and catagorizing you based on a set of rules that he made up. I think that John Ashcroft and Santa are related or something.

About these rules: Naughty.....Nice.....whatever. There are only two categories. Are your deeds judged by severity? Quantity? Morality? If you pet your dog once for every time you kill a hitchhiker do you break even? What if you are a do-gooding saint but selfish in bed? Let's say you bugger a sheep. Texas; nice, NYC; naughty? WTF!

I think that Santa uses his vast surveillance network for his own sinister purposes. For him all the world's peoples are just a jerry springer show.

I say Revolution! Don't give the fat man his kicks. Sit and stare! Don't do anything worth watching. Not even in the shower. Embrace stillness, silence, and calm. We will ruin Christmas but regain our privacy. I'm starting now.

Yuk

2010-11-17T17:01:00.000-08:00

I'm a slacker at updating this blog. Perhaps it is your fault.

Anyhow:

Weakly ride report 10-2-10

2010-10-02T20:55:00.000-07:00

It has been a pretty good week for riding. Once I got rid of that nasty infection that I picked up from a friendly squirrel I was able to get back on the bike. Here it is:

Tuesday: 25 medium-savage miles with DarthWeasel. He was in training for his personal assault on all the shrimps in the sea, I think in vengeance. (A shrimp once ate DW, then turned him into a newt.) He managed to double the speed limit on a public road and escape with his life. I kept myself busy yelling obscenities at the trees and shrubs that kept eyeballing me.

Wednesday: About 8 fast miles around town. I was barely keeping ahead of pissed off foliage.

Thursday: 10ish miles, nothing exciting. I bet you are regretting reading this.

Saturday: 50.3 miles with DW. Perfect cool sunny weather, flat and long multi-use path. I thought we were going to get lost a couple of times, we didn't. We kept an relaxed pace for 4 hours, saw wild blacksmiths, a brave bunny, an IQ vampire, and a wasp flew into my helmet and got stuck. If my saddle were more comfortable I would have been good for a couple more hours. Our route took us in a loop around Portland twice then out on the Springwater Corridor. Google it, it is pretty cool.

A day in the sun.

2010-09-24T21:31:00.000-07:00

Follow the link and watch it. Seriously. I'll know if you don't.

http://www.c-spanarchives.org/program/ID/233635&start=7039&end=7268

The Unpleasant Harold.

2010-09-18T18:11:00.000-07:00

3100BC-
The councilors of Urik voted that Unpleasant Harold was more trouble than he was really worth. A vessel was prepared that would contain the rain god in mild discomfort. Made of heavily cuneiformed baked clay and lac resin, this large vase should stand the ravings and bangings of the bastard rain god until the end of time.
A candied grasshopper (Unpleasant Harold's favorite) was placed in the vessel as a lure. When the damp deity tried to grab his snack, the lid came down, trapping the little shit forever. The vase was thrown into the ocean. There was much rejoicing.

Very recent history-
A filthy vase that had been tossed about in all the worlds seas was bumping against the wreck of the Isabella. A small crack that had been formed five hundred years before (a squid had tried to reproduce with it) suddenly opened and the lid fell right off. Unpleasant Harold was free!
The first thing that Unpleasant Harold did was to pull out his iPhone and check email. No new emails.
The second thing that Unpleasant Harold did was to get on check his twitter. 198,223,125 new tweets! The most recent one read "Bob_Tres Looking forward to a week of riding. This sunny Oregon weather is wonderful. Tryin' 4 200mi."

This really angered Unpleasant Harold as he was a bit of a spelling and grammer nazi. And the parts with "sunny" and "weather" and "wonderful". "We'll see about that!" said the decanted dickhead.

Unpleasant Harold brought his hands together, and there was evaporation. Unpleasant Harold used a rude finger gesture and there was condensation. Unpleasant Harold said a naughty word and there was precipitation. Unpleasant Harold touched himself...just a little bit...and there was a prevailing wind to carry the squishy air to Oregon.
"That will do for that bobtres and his bike ride and his grammar!" The soaked god of Sumer wades out of the waves while checking his iPhone to see what is new in porn.

Today-
"Weakly ride report." Bob Tres writes. "Rained out."

Roger the squirrel vs. herds of radiation-altered scientologists

2010-09-12T20:49:00.000-07:00

Roger the squirrel usually had good luck hunting the plains for scientologists. As he was munching on his latest catch, he noticed that there was a light green glow around his food. Roger, being a squirrel and not being very particular about these things, kept munching.

After waking from a long, long sleep, Roger found himself a wee bit taller. And a wee bit faster. And a wee bit smarter. With his newfound ability, he was twice as efficient at hunting the wild, wiley scientologists. His eating had never been better; his waistline had never been larger.

Waking up from a nap at about midnight, he saw a faint glow on the horizon. Upon investigating it, it appeared to be yet another radioactive scientologist.

"Nom, nom, NOM!" said Roger.

Long, long sleep. Faster, taller, smarter! Roger looked for more glowing lunatics.

Three years went by. Roger became the size of a city bus, and songs were sung about him all around the world. When a scientologist started to glow, he wet himself in terror and knew his days were numbered.

Roger prospered.

THE END.

Another weakly ride report.

2010-09-12T13:28:00.000-07:00

It's getting easier.
I started riding in late June when it was finally dry enough to go outside without a lifejacket and rowboat. I was doing short rides, coming back with sore "seat regions" and aching legs. My goal for the summer was to work up to 50 mile rides with no major drama. I think that I made it.

This week:
Monday- 25 miles solo, around town with some hills. I pretty much followed the route that Darthweasel and I had taken a few days before.

Thursday- 31 pretty quick miles. DW and I went mucking about some parks and trails. In a hundred yard stretch I narrowly avoided a toddler, a squirrel, a squirrel, and a squirrel. All four had walked right in front of me and stopped. I took that as a sign to slow down a bit.
DW was making the hills bow to him. We went back to the fast narrow twisty trail and endangered our lives a couple of times.

Saturday- 48 miles. I had been wanting to ride the Banks to Vernonia state trail for quite a while. I had ridden it once in 1998 and there had been huge improvements since. I took some pics for your viewing pleasure. Not that kind of pleasure. You sicko.

I'm beginning at the Manning trailhead, which is about 5 miles from the actual start of the trail where there is no parking. It's 106 miles to Chicago, we got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it's dark, and we're wearing sunglasses. (oops, wrong movie)

Most of the trail looks like a green tunnel through the forest. There is 18 miles of paved trail and 3 miles of packed gravel. The first 9.5 miles are gently uphill then a bit of up and down after. With the exception of a few horses and a person every other mile I had the trail to myself.

I suspect someone had smoked some of Oregon's largest export crop before naming the trails. Click the picture to embiggen.

Stopping for a rest. A much older gentleman than myself rode with me for a while then took off up the hill like a weasel-bit badger. I tried to keep up for a while but my lungs caught on fire and my legs melted and came off. Then I turned in to a newt.

After reaching the end of the state park I continued into Vernonia and went around the creatively named "Vernonia Lake". It was like being dropped in to Texas. Everybody was wearing either camo or clothes/hats with flags on them (American and Dixie flags that is). Large, rude, and well beer'd. The lake was nice though, and there is a shooting range nearby, if you get bored fish'n.

The ride back to the car was mostly downhill, fast and fun. Watch out for the horse's (slightly used) breakfasts though. They are hard to spot.

On another subject. Fucking Drummers, How do they work?

New blog topic: Weekly (weakly?) ride report.

2010-09-04T18:46:00.000-07:00

So I am going attempt a weekly ride report. It will be my cycling diary of sorts, so I can look back and say "That jerk last September though he knew what he was talking about. What a jerk!"

So here is my week:
Got in a couple of 6 mile fast rides in the evenings. Had to catch my breath a couple of times, pushing pretty hard. There is one brutish hill that I need climb on my way home on my short ride route. This time last year I climbed it at 6mph, recently that has risen to 14mph. It is my benchmark hill really.

Went for a ride with Darthweasel Thursday. We took some old paths that I had not ridden in 20 years, climbed 1 short but nasty hill. I had to stop at the top for a couple of minutes. Maybe 7 miles or so.

Today, after some fun with a flat tire, Darthweasel and I meandered about town for a while. DW was fast today, I had to work to keep up quite a few times. I later figured about 30 miles. One road that I'll not ride on again as the shoulder is very narrow and I'm not the type to impede traffic. We found a trail along the Tualitin River that was amazing. Fast, twisty and narrow. Fun! Steep at the end though.

That's it. What, like you wanted more?

Squirrel Noir

2010-09-03T00:17:00.000-07:00

There was a rather unhappy squirrel that lived in a nearby forest. Let's call him Roger.

One day a nice deer suggested to Roger that he go and talk to the river. Perhaps the wise river could help Roger be happy.

Roger walks off down to the river. "Mr. River," says Roger, "I am not happy."
"Why Roger, What are you unhappy about?" asks the River.
"Mr River, I want things that I cannot buy." says Roger.
The River replies "Roger, buying things is only a distraction. Things cannot make you happy."
"Mr. River, I have not been promoted at work and I know that I deserve to be." Roger asserts.
"Roger, look at yourself from your employers point of view. They probably place you where you are most needed." the River explains.
"Mr. River, I cannot run as fast or jump as high as I want to." Roger whines.
"Roger, you need to be willing to work hard for what you want to achieve. If you still cannot reach your goal, then perhaps your goal was too high. Be realistic." the River sighs tiredly.
"Mr River, My wife and family are not who I wanted them to be. They will not change!" Roger grouches.
"Roger, you cannot reshape your family to suit you. Perhaps you should accept them." the River sniffs.

"Mr. River, My real problem is that I am not rich. Why didn't you tell me? Why did I have to figure it out for myself? I cannot buy my wife a fur coat, I cannot afford good running shoes, I cannot buy a Brooks Brothers suit to impress my boss with, I cannot buy a new Escalade to drive about in."

"Roger, There are yellow rocks in my bed, Roger, retrieve them and you can trade them for money. Perhaps then you will be happy." the River says.
"Mr. River, Really?!"
"Really Roger. Be warned, this is a big risk, and if you value my wisdom you will not take it."

-A little while later
"Mr. River, what where those bubbles you had in you a little while ago? Where is Roger?" asks the Deer as she approaches the water.
"Fucking squirrels. They never listen." says the River.

I am working on a new skill...

2010-08-23T21:18:00.000-07:00

I have many skills, none are very useful, but they amuse me. In the search for a new technique to master, I was told that the local community college was offering a course in creepy looks and stares. To succsessfully complete the course you should be able to look like this:

Now this could be very useful in many situations, such as: Jehovah's witnesses at you door, at a job interview, waiting in line at the DMV or Post Office, sex with a stranger, and many others.

Here is a mini blog within a blog of my classes:
Week 1: We were shown A Clockwork Orange repeatedly until we could sit though it with a straight face.
Week 2: 20 hours of being heckled by Scientology councilors.
Week 3: Chemical purge of hormones
Week 4: Required to show no outward emotion while viewing Westboro baptist church sermons
Week 5: Homework. Trips to the zoo to stare down large cats and owls.
Week 6: Now we had the emotionless stare, we had to make it creepy. We spent the week watching chess tournaments with porn soundtracks overdubbed. That worked well for all of us increasingly chemical dependent students.
Week 7: Homework.Scare strangers on a bus. To do this I bussed about reading Twilight and muttering approving noises into a portable tape recorder.

Next week if my final exam. I know intellectually that I would be nervous if I had any emotions left intact. I would let you know how it goes, but it really does not matter.

Whatever.

The number 20

2010-08-08T15:43:00.000-07:00

If you are shopping for a new number, I suggest that you consider the number twenty.

Twenty was invented in the late 1300s by a French monk. An Englishman had just called him "a cheese-eating surrender monkey" and the monk replied with "I shall install nineteen, no...uh....TWENTY, Yes, twenty lices in your underwear!" The Englishman did not know what twenty was, but he knew about lices so he apologized and went on his way.

The historical significance of the number twenty has shining moments and dark times as well. There were twenty people on the moon in 1969 when NASA held their first annual kegger in a crater party. On the darker side, Torquemada used twenty spikes and twenty heathens in his directorial debut "Happy Huggy Questions and Answers".

Twenty is also very versatile.You can use it to change a flat tire, divide it by broccoli, whiten your teeth, and also for your, um, marital problems.

In short: buy it now! Or buy eighty and share with friends! Just leave me alone...

Paid for by the four times five council.

Vampire Squirrels on the Moon!

2010-07-09T17:17:00.000-07:00

It was a dark and starry night. The solar wind had quit howling as the sun set, leaving the landscape with a sense of tense waiting as if an unspeakable evil is about to wake. A dark rustle is heard but the source cannot be located. (I know, sound in vacuum? Suspend your disbelief already.) Tiny glints of reflected starlight can be seen in the distance like evil things that reflect light from far away. Fear grips you like an ice cream headache.

A panicked run will not help you, screaming will only help *them* find you. You look for a place to hide. Over there, to the left! No, your other left dummy! A large hole in the ground that's large enough to hide your fear in. And it is large.

Looking out from your hidey hole you begin to feel hope, like a straining bear who managed to catch a claw in the running hiker. Perhaps you will live though the night after all. As you settle in for your long wait to daylight you notice that the small cave that you are cowering in is remarkably comfortable. And warm. And a little stinky. And teeth line the walls. And there is a large tongue on the floor that disappears deeper into the ground. Perhaps you should have inspected your coward cave a little better before you dove in, genius. You are in a space sloth's mouth! You have only bare hours to escape before the giant beast bites down and swallows you up like something yummy that it likes to eat!

Peeking out of the sloth, you see the dreaded Vampire Squirrels on the Moon outside. They are waiting. They have a sign: "please remove yourself from our sloth". They have formed a protest.

Much later you reflect on what good people Vampire Squirrels really are. The offer to share a pint with you was terribly considerate. You feel a little woozy though.

Attn: DarthWeasel

2010-07-07T18:58:00.000-07:00

Performance. Instead of emailing, I thought to blog this to you.

I have been informed of a tagging.

2010-07-04T16:17:00.000-07:00

Tagged. Me. Are we in such a poor state of affairs that a upstanding blogger like myself could be tagged without so much as a second thought? Is true.

1.) WHAT ARE YOU WEARING ? Brooks Brothers 3pc. pinstripe with a white spandex bodysuit underneath. You know, just in case.

2.) WHAT IS ONE THING THAT PEOPLE SAY ABOUT YOU THE MOST ? Why did he say that?

3.) WHAT IS ONE THING YOU WILL NEVER HEAR SOMEONE SAY ABOUT YOU ? Please Sir, may I have another?

4.) WHAT PERFUME OR COLOGNE DO YOU WEAR ? I brew my own cologne from pure distilled rainwater and ambergris.

5.) VANILLA OR CHOCOLATE ? Chocolate if it comes in a bar, Vanilla if it comes in a tub.

6.) PLAYBOY OR MAXIM ? There are those who would find these choices limited. I have the internet.

7.) WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU SPOKE WITH ON THE PHONE ? Riot Kitty

8.) WHAT DO YOU HAVE FOR A RINGTONE ? Rrrringgg......Rrringgg.... and so on.

9.) WHAT MOUNTAIN DO YOU WANT TO TRAVEL TO MOST ? The Big Rock Candy Mountains
You never change your socks
And the little streams of alcohol
Come trickling down the rocks
The brakemen have to tip their hats
And the railway bulls are blind
There's a lake of stew
And of whiskey too
You can paddle all around it
In a big canoe
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

10.) IF YOU ARE A MAN... ARE YOU A LEG MAN OR AN ASS MAN ? Both. Sooner would be better than later.

12.) DO YOU BELIEVE IN GOING DUTCH ON A FIRST DATE ? I prefer that she pay.

13.) WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF YOUR DATE FROM THE INTERNET SHOWED UP AND LOOKED 10 YEARS OLDER AND AT LEAST 30 LBS HEAVIER THAN IN THE PICTURE ? Depends on the picture that I forst say. It could be good, it could be bad.

14.) MEN.... WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF YOU WOKE UP AND DISCOVERED YOU HAVE A WOMAN'S BODY? I have one, right next to me. (in a non-creepy way...Sheesh, you people!)

I'm glad that I am not a Squirrel

2010-07-02T16:17:00.001-07:00

Five reasons why I am glad that I am not a squirrel.

1: The hours. A squirrel has to be up all hours of the day and night fighting crime and preventing natural disasters. I need my sleep.

2: The fur. Most people think that squirrels grow their own fur. This is not true. PETA protests furriers for squirrels regularly.

3: The diet. I don't like fish. I also don't like cold water. Everyone has seen the films of majestic packs of squirrels hunting salmon in Puget Sound. This is not for me.

4: Language: Squirrels have 27 different words for kill, 21 different words for menace, and 33 different words for cuddle. I don't think I could master the subtleties of Sqeakish.

5: The smells: Squirrels have a very sharp and refined sense of smell. The average squirrel can tell what your cousin in Oklahoma thinks of Sarah Palin just by smelling the exhaust from your car. There are many, many smells that I do not want to get to know better.

I will stick to being a Lorax for now.

My plastic joy

2010-06-29T22:23:00.000-07:00

I was tasked by Riot Kitty to share with the whole world 5 people I'd like to get jiggy with if I could, and apparently, my partner won't get mad and kill me with a shot gun. I'd need a time machine and some seduction enhancement medication.

My first grown up lust, Siouxsie. Hot goth.

Dana Delany: I saw Tombstone and many naughty and borderline illegal thoughts coalesced.

Isabella Rossellini: The first woman that David Lynch introduced me to. We had a short lived but torrid romance (in my head).

Jennifer Connelly: I dare you to watch Requiem for a Dream without loosing a bit of your heart.

Laura Harring: David Lynch again displays impeccable taste to my impressionable self.

Oh, there is a blogger that I have quite a crush on, although my thoughts are as pure as the driven snow. Really.

That is all.

An ode to my underwear

2010-06-23T15:14:00.000-07:00

Dear underwear, you have faithfully done your service to me for many years. We were an instant match and we have always been comfortable together. There has never been an awkward moment.

I have never doubted your reliability or discretion. When I needed you, I was never disappointed. In return I have done my best to keep you clean and happy.

I am sorry for what I have been forced to undertake. As underwear you naturally age faster than I do so when I started noting your frayed elastic and thin spots I knew the end of our partnership was near. I'm afraid that in the interest of your state of mind I've treated you very badly.

The basket that you now reside in is not actually the Disnyland lobby. Instead of frolicking with a giant mouse you will be squeezed in with kitchen waste and used kitty litter. Instead of your promised luxury retirement you will likely be buried in a landfill along with many of your suffering kind. I thought that the empty promises would keep you happy for just another day.

Excuse me now, I need to go shopping.

It's not easy being Three

2010-06-21T20:52:00.000-07:00

It's not easy being Three for me. I mean, it would be hard for anyone but as I sort of identify with it, I take it kind of personally.

My interest in numbers started early in life. When the Count would say "Three! Ah Ah Ah!" I would cheer and promptly turn off the TV. I did not want to hear anymore. It was a jealousy thing, I think. School taught me to count past three, but I was always stuck. One, Three, Six, Nine, Ouch! (a ruler on the knuckles)

As I progressed I learned about prime numbers. A new horizon opened as I could now identify with a single integer and a larger group of numbers that contained my personal symbol. In high school I experimented (as many have done) with identifying with Seven, Twenty-Nine, and even One Hundred and Thirteen. I felt really dirty after the last one.

After I was done with school I embraced the whole world. (in a completely wholesome way, wink wink...). At my lowest depth the only communication people could get from me was "twentyfoureleven - twentyfoureleven." It was then that I met a beautiful woman and soon to be wife.

She approached me and the first thing I noticed was her badge number: 3041. I was gently led to her patrol car (#839) and tenderly placed in the back seat. "Is it too hot or too cold?" she asked. I replied with an offer to buy coffee.

When I was released five weeks later we went for coffee. A wonderful few hours of caffeinated bliss before she had to go to work. I knew she was my soulmate when I saw her phone number: 691-449-7919.

Marriage has been exponential. It is much better than sitting in front of an Amiga punching out a new program to find the largest Mersenne Primes. I love her, especially when she talks in base-8. HOT!

I have no more time for you. It is 9:19, I must go cleanse myself.

Ducks and a flower.

2010-06-07T20:49:00.000-07:00

If there is anything that you've probably seen before, it's a duck. Just sit and look in any direction and you'll probably see a flower. The relationship between flowers and ducks is not complicated. The pair do not interact in a mutually pleasing or satisfying way. There is no dislike either however. They co-exist.

As I was observing ducks and flowers today, I was suddenly struck- by a flying insect with bad eyesight. You probably don't really care though. Admit it.

On the happenstance that you are wondering right at this very moment what a duck or a flower look like you can either look out your window or glance down just a little bit.

No, I'm the sheet slitter's son.

2010-05-15T14:33:00.000-07:00

I saw this on fark.com today and it made me break out in a rash. Enjoy!

You must slit the sixth sick sheet slitter's son's sheet, secure it next
to the toy boat from the Hackensack Socko Kicky-Sack Sack Kickers'
picnic in Secaucus, stretch it past the sack pickers' station and the
sock plucker's chute, and pick a sack, pluck a sock, and flick the plug,
so I can put the pea in the plucked sock with the picked sack for
ballast and bounce it off the rubber baby buggy bumper, into the Parker
Packard purple pewter pressure pump. Is that understood?

Inadequate Pudding

2010-05-06T22:01:00.000-07:00

The pudding was insufficient. Through no fault of its own, the pudding cannot perform the function required of it. Perhaps in other circumstances the pudding could have excelled, but it has failed the only opportunity it was given.

Go now, Egg, and sit on your hill of beans and think about the suffering you have caused. And wipe that stupid grin off of your face!

A day of giggles and tears

2010-04-30T19:49:00.000-07:00

Well, neither really.
I have a secret soft spot in my cold hard heart. That secret soft spot is Vintage Motorcycles!

Today was the practice this weekends race, featuring Vintage Motorcycles! Out to the track with me- there are leaking unreliable old British and Japanese Vintage Motorcycles (!) that I have not drooled on.

With visions of CB160s, Triumphs, RD350s, and other Vintage Motorcycles -!- dancing in my head I compulsively checked the weather all week. Weatherman keeps reassuring me that there will be no rain.

Arriving at the track, I can hear.......wait for it......birds. And rain falling. And myself think. That should not happen near Vintage Motorcycles! Everything was wet so I figure that the practice had been canceled. (it turns out they were on lunch)

Oh no, My local craigslist returns 55 results typing "Vintage" in the motorcycle search bar.

Pics or it didn't happen.

I found a letter today

2010-04-19T19:09:00.000-07:00

After my joking post of yesterday, today's blog post is kind of a coincidence.
Picking up the mail today I noticed a sheet of neatly folded paper on the ground near the mailbox. It is such a strange letter I knew that I must transcribe it on my blog.

Note: This appears to be page one of many, I only found a single sheet.

Letter:
My Friend *****
I am sorry to have neglected to write to you or even email over the last few months. I felt that I should write a letter as it is more personal than an email.

When I started this project you warned me and explained the myriad ways I could go wrong. I felt that the risk was worth taking because, although not monetarily rewarding, a positive result would be deeply satisfying.
Everything went well at first. The suppliers you suggested were agreeable to the terms that we laid out (thank you again for your guidance on that) and I quickly collected the material and assistance that I needed. Your foresight saw me through multiple hurdles. Unfortunately there were unforeseen consequences in my personal life that I had to overcome to pursue my goal. I never thought that I would miss what I had to expunge; the cost was higher than I had hypothesized
For obvious reasons I cannot go into detail about my failure. I will spend a couple of months in ***** to study the aberrant results. Further contact should shortly follow depending on my disposition at that time.

Truly I am expecting your displeasure regarding the personal cost of this project and how it will effect our relationship. You have often told me that I am cynical in my interpretation of human nature and that we could season any rough weather. I feel that I can predict how you will react to the probable future that now lies before me. This is much rougher weather than most.

I can give you a few vague details about my recent months to somewhat mollify your overdeveloped curiosity.
Following the first test the results were tainted by a partial breakdown of my willpower. My emotional state prevented full diligence. After marshaling my reserves I completed the second test satisfactorily, although I was in quite a position for many days afterward. Beginning the third test I found myself with uncontrollable tremors and a very fragile constitution. I could only go on after dosing myself with the remedy that you had thoughtfully provided. The test-

The moon

2010-04-18T18:01:00.001-07:00

So I'm learning photography as part of my Master Plan to become world emperor.

Because you asked, the Master Plan is complicated, subtle, devious, and foolproof. Prepare yourselves.

You could peet them with vellocet or synthemesc or drencrom or one or two other veshches

2010-04-04T14:24:00.000-07:00

Well, this is the time of the year when your humble narrator, clearing his gulliver after a good spatchka, smots twin eggiwegs and gets all painty.

Viddy this, brother, yon eggiwegs- all white- clean as the driven snow. Baboochka and myself govoreet colours but everything zvooks baddiwad.

Messel, droogs, Messel! Old Bog was real horrorshow! Us lewdies proceed painty wise eggshell white.

We owe pee and em no appy polly loggy, my brothers. These eggiwegs are doby.

A little Balzac

2010-03-28T21:21:00.000-07:00

Madame-
Your conduct astounds me as much as it grieves me. Not content with breaking my heart with your disdain, you have the indelicacy to retain a tooth-brush that my means do not allow me to replace, my estate being encumbered with mortgages.
Farewell, very beautiful and most ungrateful friend. May we meet again in a better world.
-Charles Edward

More pics

2010-03-14T17:11:00.001-07:00

Some pictures

2010-03-11T19:00:00.000-08:00

Just playing around...

Jane Austen's Pancetta

2010-02-17T17:55:00.000-08:00

"Oh, Mr. Legge-Bourke, You know I cannot come away with you because my family's fortune is on the wane and soon I feel that Father might loose his peerage."

"Worry yourself not, Ms. Rentoul. With the coming of Mr.______ you will needs nothing toward your wants."

"If only Mr.______ could arrive soon-haste. Our sty needs re-guilding. I have a shame by it. Mr. Legge-Bourke, could you see us a marriage under the rose? It would take a great burden from my hocks."

"Ms. Rentoul! You know everything in which I involve myself is always quite Bristol!"

"Truly, Mr. Legge-Bourke, truly."

powerline

2010-02-05T17:09:00.000-08:00

A power line was knocked down across the street last night so I ran right out with a camera. Classy, I know.

Moose and Lion

2010-01-30T19:51:00.000-08:00

"Lion, You are invited to dinner." Moose whispered.

The most awesome and cool toy car ever!

2010-01-13T00:13:00.000-08:00

Yes, it is real. You can believe your eyes.

It is national Be Kind to Spiders Day! Note: do not read.

2010-01-07T13:35:00.000-08:00

This day, for some, it the most holy day of the year. Today is the day that you should show your eight legged companion the love and respect that he or she deserves. There are many ways of doing this.

For example I just helped Esmerelda (a jumping spider) down from her frightening stay on the ceiling. I asked where she wanted to go, and she informed me that jumping spiders are partial to sleeping in pillowcases.

Ethen (a hobo spider) managed to get stuck in the bathtub. A chauffeured ride to the back garden later and now we are fast friends. We have beer and poker nights every Thursday.

Ellen (a wolf spider although she sees herself as a couger) was looking kind of blue as she sat on the kitchen soap. We got to talking and I discovered that all she needed was a darker shade of lipstick to really perk up her self image.Ellen really loves her new goth look and has been quite successful with the younger men.

Now here are a few bit of trivia that I bet you did not know:

If you gift a favor to a spider, they will change the oil in your car.
Spiders are very affectionate and love a good cuddle.
All spiders must have at least two of the letter E in their name. This is just good sense.
If you walk though a narrow place and get a web across the face, that is the web owner's way of claiming you as his bitch.
Spiders are the Giraffes fiercest enemy.
All arachnids can cross breed with rodents.
It is considered good luck to have a spider swinging from your sunvisor while you drive.

Pigford T. Swineforth

2009-12-31T18:35:00.000-08:00

Hello. My name is Pigford T. Swineforth. I am writing to you today to tell you about my new year resolutions. In case you are wondering why I would share my porcine thoughts with you, it is to satisfy a court order.

Resolution #1: I will treat my employees with the respect that they deserve. Oh, the pink slips will fly. If hear "minimum wage violation" or "I have rights" again I'll outsource all their jobs to Haiti.

Resolution #2: I will find a better accountant. I will have to spend nearly 3 percent of my income in taxes. I have a feeling that my accountant will go to the police again if I try to convince him any harder than I have already.

Resolution #3: My son. He has to go. All day and all night I worry about his "ethics" and "decency" that he keeps throwing in my face. Perhaps he is still bitter about the limp that he picked up during his childhood education.

Resolution #4: Sex. I'll find something new. I've exhausted the talent of the local service providers and have had to turn to the internet. I've reached the end of the internet and cannot find anything new, I'll just have to invent a new way to do it.

Resolution #5: I will lose weight. I measure 5 hands across the back and the local restaurants keep inviting me into the kitchen for tours. I do not trust them.

Resolution #6: Take care of the neighbors. They keep posting videos of me on youtube. This has to stop. Perhaps a visit from a Blackwater consultant will help then see my point of view.

Resolution #7: Inquire about having my Hummer stretched and widened. Also if the engine can me changed to flex fuel (gasoline or rendered seal fat) that would be great.

Resolution #9: I will take further measures to make sure that the gifts and services I provide to our great politicians are fully appreciated.

Resolution #10: Adopt a kitty. I want a cute cuddly kitty.

Thank you for reading my list. By reading this list you have agreed to indenture yourself to Pigforth Heavy Industries (PHI) for the period of 1 year.

I have a new love in my life.

2009-12-07T18:16:00.000-08:00

First I have to apologize to the previous love of my life. If you read the last post, you will know that she and I met while roasting owls over a fire at a lumberjack camp. It pains me to think of the heartbreak that I am going to cause when I tell her about my new love. I don't want to hurt her, but it is sort of her fault that I am head over heels again. If she had not done that thing that she did then I would not have this conflict.

I should not even think that way.

As I write this, I am wondering if perhaps my new love would feel weird about being invited into an existing relationship. I still have very deep feelings for my wonderful wife, perhaps she would agree to a third? I'll probably end up living alone if I asked my two dearest into the same bed.

But maybe. Just maybe. The reward is almost worth the risk.

Let me know what you think. Here is a link to a few pictures of my happiness.

A little about me.

2009-11-30T20:45:00.000-08:00

First I should tell you that I am de-emphasizing some things about my past that I am embarrassed about or is subject to a non-disclosure agreement.

I was born in the Isle of Lipari where my parents were moderately successful cuttlefish merchants. (It's true, even cuttlefish ink is used in Italian cooking). I lived my first ten years in modest luxury. The only real childhood drama that I had was a nasty series of ear infections and a undeveloped sense of morality that was caused by a lack of vitamin K.

Fleeing the revolution, my parents took me to Brazil where they had just purchased a Jatoba plantation. It was there that I learned to love books, engineering, and thrift. Unfortunately the family plantation was seized by the city council to make way for a new favela that was being planned.

To the USA, I was 16 and almost fluent in two languages. We landed in Miami and made our way to Estero Bay where our last family home was purchased. I do not know all of the details but there were an awful lot of Canadians in and out of the guest bedrooms. Just under a year later, a week before my 17th birthday, a black short bus pulled up and left with my parents. I still miss poor P&M. At the time of the abduction I was in the boathouse...um...reading. Yes, Reading, That is what I was doing.

17 years old and on my own. I had little else than the clothes on my back, the change in my pockets, and $37k in the bank. I had recently seen The Goonies and therefor felt a powerful pull to the west coast. I came to Oregon to start a new life with a new name.

I arrived in Portland and found work as a lumberjack before I even left the airplane. The stewardess had passed out applications an hour before we landed.
I loved my new job, driving to majestic old-growth rain forests that had been unchanged for a thousand years. then cutting them down. Many an evening were spent drinking micro-brews and roasting owls over an open fire. That is how I met my wife, my soul mate.

In the all the years since, I've considered myself very lucky to have the warm companionship and love of my pet rabbit, Mr. Clankers.

Now you've done it.

2009-11-29T21:16:00.000-08:00

The setup:
You are a poor sharecropper from Mississippi with 8 children. The rent is due, the kids need dental work, your wife (or significant otter) needs more 80 proof medicine, and you are out of sour cream and weetabix.

Today you though that you'd make a nice toast and drown your sorrows in butter and strawberry jam. How could you possibly be prepared to have your yummy dreams cruelly torn from you by Jesus appearing on your delicious snack.

The reaction:
After the media, talk radio, and the very reverend C.D. Plunkitt leave you receive a phone call. It is leadshackcasino.com offering $1.37 million for your toast. You of course jump at the offer thinking that you buy a swimming pool and fill it with sour cream and weetabix.
A McMansion is promptly helicoptered in.

The aftermath:
You wake up with the Angel Gabriel standing at the foot of your bed with a pair of pliers and a blow torch. As he goes to work on you he patiently explains that Jesus was sent to your toast to deliver a message of your higher purpose uniting all peoples and religions. Over your screams he expresses sorrow that you would sell your divine foodstuff to buy the American dream as seen on TV. His words: "Son, I am disappoint."

Epilogue:
In your haste to get on MTV's "Cribs", you did not get medical insurance. Now you are in the red for $600k and have a permanent limp.

Congratulations.

Behold Raccoons, ye mortals, and despair!

2009-11-28T19:51:00.000-08:00

There are a few things that you should know about raccoons. They have an image of being funny and friendly in a scary sort of way. This is exactly what they want you to think.

The most important thing to keep in mind is to never !!NEVER!! enter into a contractual agreement with this animal. If you think that herpes is hard to get rid of, you should try seperating yourself from woodland litigation.

The second thing that you should know about raccoons is that they do not, in fact, lust for your soul. That is the territory of the swan. The raccoon lusts for your action figures and your cow knickknacks. These are both used in horrific rituals that you are better off not knowing about.

Last, and most importantly, If you find yourself cornered by raccoons (at a country and western bar perhaps), your best defense is to keep calm and let them kill you gently. If you panic, you'll just die tired. Who wants to enter Valhalla all worn out?