tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79252265739028169562011-11-27T16:01:33.268-08:00Personal Adventures. Pop Culture. Humor. Swear Words.Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01162196557733147428noreply@blogger.comBlogger191100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925226573902816956.post-32061145566799893882009-06-09T08:05:00.000-07:002009-06-09T08:14:45.732-07:00

Okay... so here's another site I visit occasionally: Ping Pong BallsThe premise is that they post the punch line, and you have to write the joke. Here's my recent post there.-----I went with a friend to a new restaurant, decked out in 80's style, covered in pictures and screen shots from various 80's sit coms. It was pretty wild looking, neon colors against bright white tile floors. I took a

Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01162196557733147428noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925226573902816956.post-49529388758941158502009-05-21T13:22:00.000-07:002009-05-21T13:35:40.307-07:00

Last night I had an amazingly funny visual in my head...A Tyrannosaurus Rex playing ping pong. And by the picture, I guess I'm not the only one!But I'm thinking I could probably beat a T-Rex at ping pong.  I have pretty quick reflexes, and I can also can put some wicked english on the ball.I think T -- or maybe it's Mr. T -- would have more than a few tactical disadvantages.  With that huge body

Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01162196557733147428noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925226573902816956.post-44728197220602417732009-05-15T03:35:00.000-07:002009-05-20T13:52:15.392-07:00

So I'm looking around from the tiny bar area, waiting for someone to order a Fruit Loop, and I'm thinking, 'this is actually one of those cool parties you don't see everyday...'My sister has always been a big pain in the ass.  It's true.  She's my big sister, and helped raise me... even though I'm only two and a half years her junior.  She was the one that stood up to a bully in the playground

Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01162196557733147428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925226573902816956.post-72858385202445074762009-05-01T11:01:00.000-07:002009-05-01T12:15:32.417-07:00

[Note: I know this is a break from the regular format.  Please let me know what you think, but I will return to my more fun self soon, I promise.  Either that or I'll be bitter the rest of my fucking life... time will tell.]I knew it was going to happen, and now I feel like I must voice my opinion on something.  Like the old man with a newly installed penis pump said to the call girl, "Better

Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01162196557733147428noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925226573902816956.post-78869662001810540302009-04-21T12:08:00.000-07:002009-04-22T09:25:36.792-07:00

Don't worry, I haven't run out of stuff to write about, but I decided to give my stories about pain a rest for a little while in order to freshen up my brain. This really is more of a reset for me, as getting stuck in any kind of a rut, even a relatively good one, is still a fucking rut.So I went to this stupid website that a managed to stumble on called plinky. It's pretty lame from a social

Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01162196557733147428noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925226573902816956.post-81303762144297909012009-04-14T03:00:00.000-07:002009-04-15T08:37:17.005-07:00

Another week, another beat down.  But this time I found it difficult to walk out of da club, and was considering my options.My problem wasn't that I wanted the exercise to stop, but rather that I actually found it difficult to maintain a standing or walking position.  My balance was shot and my muscles burned deeply.I arrived a little early so that I could jump on an elliptical or a bike for a

Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01162196557733147428noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925226573902816956.post-3807849784579477232009-04-08T03:24:00.000-07:002009-04-08T19:19:55.318-07:00

"I think this will be more informational than anything else," I said as we walked toward the door."Oh," she said, looking a little confused."So who knows? Maybe I'll join you when I'm done."She nodded, whipped out her key card and threw it in front of the scanner. As the machine beeped, I pulled my card out from my sweatshirt pocket, waited for the beep and followed behind her.After going up to

Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01162196557733147428noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925226573902816956.post-70430322412974646482009-03-31T07:05:00.000-07:002009-04-02T07:43:22.764-07:00

[Editor's note: I took a vote of anyone who happened to happen on this site, and apparently people like to read about the absurd above all things. So here's a story that's completely that. Enjoy, and don't forget to vote on other crazy crap over in the sidebar!]So, I had this thought about what it would be like to take an hour or so out of President Obama's busy schedule. What would we do?

Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01162196557733147428noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925226573902816956.post-7052128937251011092009-03-30T06:29:00.001-07:002009-03-30T12:50:58.888-07:00

I'm trying to think back to who really gave me the raw thumbs and forefingers that I have right now.  Do I blame myself for being too stupid?  Hell no!  America is a litigious society, and if I was too ignorant, how can it possibly be MY fault.  I could blame my parents, but I don't think I could do that without sounding like a whiny bitch that needs to gain everyone's approval through an

Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01162196557733147428noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925226573902816956.post-49071235805557567002009-03-25T12:49:00.000-07:002009-03-27T14:16:52.298-07:00

This past weekend, the wife and I were busy with spring cleaning.  No, really.  It's spring!Spring cleaning has a couple of variations up here in Minnesota.  There's the spring cleaning you do inside as you get ready to turn off your hibernate mode while it's still cold out, and there's outdoor cleaning you rush to do before good ol' Mother Nature decides to take a shit on you again.Minnesota

Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01162196557733147428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925226573902816956.post-13549995626587917292009-03-20T06:27:00.000-07:002009-03-21T08:25:31.918-07:00

The absolute first clear memory I have is a doozy.  I was somewhere around three years old.It was the mid 70's... so imagine a house filled with awful wallpaper, plywood wainscoting, shag carpeting... every last bit of it in the most awful shades - mainly prairie gold, rusty orange, deep brown, and avocado green.  Basically, a big group of designers from around the world all took a massive crap

Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01162196557733147428noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925226573902816956.post-53376876218977584362009-03-13T07:07:00.000-07:002009-03-13T12:19:10.935-07:00

I have been having an affair ever since I was twelve.Someone has given me a certain something special, I believe the French call it, "je ne sais quoi," or some such nonsense.  Those fucking frogs are always making me piss my pants with all the funny shit they say!  I mean, who else would think "whore's ovaries" would be a good snack?  Hillarious!Anyway, my special person has always given me what

Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01162196557733147428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925226573902816956.post-48156189364588481672009-03-07T13:03:00.000-08:002009-03-13T07:07:19.736-07:00

So, here it is... my first blog that has nothing to do with travel.  Here we go...I realized today that I'm getting older.  I'm not OLD yet, though some of my younger friends would probably try the ol' "Hey, gramps" routine on me.  A word to the wise:  You don't wanna let the tiger out of the cage, man.  I may be older than you, but I can spaz out like nobody's business.Spring is on its merry way

Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01162196557733147428noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925226573902816956.post-75599812526829147912009-03-04T06:28:00.000-08:002009-03-04T11:45:01.311-08:00

Now that I've had a little space from the vacation... now that the combination of tan, burn and freckles have faded... now that my stupid, awful fucking cold has returned only to a little congestion... I figured that I would settle it once and for all.  Where would I rate Key West in all of my adventures?  Actually, I'll put it into context of all of the SUNNY destinations I've been.Here's what

Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01162196557733147428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925226573902816956.post-72089282874430372312009-02-26T10:41:00.000-08:002009-03-04T11:44:23.462-08:00

   "Should I do it?" I asked.  I was nervous for some reason."I don't know!" she smiled back.  She was laughing just at the thought of it."I'll go, I'll go, I'll go..." I muttered the quote from Cameron in Ferris Bueller's Day Off as I got the nerve and made a phone call.  "Okay," I said.  "All set."I devilishly snickered a little every time I thought about it -- ever since I started to think

Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01162196557733147428noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925226573902816956.post-79945195735540006502009-02-25T08:35:00.000-08:002009-02-25T20:14:17.545-08:00

We drank.We drank some more.And we kept drinking.Upon arrival to our awesome house, Terre (after picking us up at the airport at 2:30 in the morning) opened the fridge and showed us the supplies he and Deb had picked up.I think I said something like, "Holy shit dude!"  The fridge was stockpiled with a case or two of soda, orange and cranberry juice, a couple cases of beer (Bahamian, jamaican, and

Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01162196557733147428noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925226573902816956.post-7499993472929501982009-02-23T06:27:00.000-08:002009-02-25T14:30:00.607-08:00

I consider Terre to be a really good friend.  You know, someone (other than the wife) who you'd try to save in an earthquake or a blizzard... maybe even a nuclear holocaust.  Though I'm guessing he'd be rounding up all of his friends and family himself if he could.Rae and I have vacationed with he and Deb several times, including time in Mexico, Florida (St. Pete's and Orlando), and a couple of

Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01162196557733147428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925226573902816956.post-48741288142183991982009-02-22T09:57:00.000-08:002009-02-25T14:30:33.458-08:00

So, we were getting settled in our place in Key West.  We were staying in a beautiful house in the Truman Annex near the post office (a gated community right next to everything in Old Town).  Terre had his rental car until the afternoon, so we headed off to the store to grab a bunch of groceries to go along with the massive stash of beer, wine, mixers and booze Deb and he had picked up the day

Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01162196557733147428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7925226573902816956.post-34400170944218412452009-02-21T19:41:00.000-08:002009-02-25T14:30:57.195-08:00

Friday the 13th was probably NOT the best day to start a vacation.  At least not in this case.Rae (the wife) and I headed to the Twin Cities Int'l Airport (MSP airport code), found a parking spot, and then found our friends Gwen and Tom after getting through security at around 11am.  Although we had to walk longer than anticipated (at least on my end), all was good.  And we were excited to get to

Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01162196557733147428noreply@blogger.com0