If only it were the (mid to late) 1800's. I'd have a choice of train robber, bank robber, stage coach robber, cattle rustler, bounty hunter, sheriff, law man, frontiersman, claim jumper, gold digger, Injun scalper, town drunk. Yep. Woulda been great. And this kid's pretty good at what he does:
Dueling should be legalized. Sigh. We need to speed up our space program. Imperialism and a New Frontier need to make their triumphant return. A new Manifest Destiny. Yep. Gonna watch some Firefly when I get home. And maybe some "Man With No Name" Trilogy.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Friday, January 30, 2009
Please Do Not Try On Toe Rings
Music For 1/30/09
Weezer
No One Else (Why they don't make songs like this anymore, I don't know)
Elvis Costello
Watching the Detectives
Nick Lowe
I Live on a Battlefield
No One Else (Why they don't make songs like this anymore, I don't know)
Elvis Costello
Watching the Detectives
Nick Lowe
I Live on a Battlefield
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Music For 1/29/09
Richard Cheese and Lounge Against the Machine (He's also playing down here, but on Saturday)
Baby Got Back and Personal Jesus
The Clash (I saw that Richard Cheese did a cover of "Rock the Casbah," so I got all nostalgic for the Clash again)
Train In Vain
Baby Got Back and Personal Jesus
The Clash (I saw that Richard Cheese did a cover of "Rock the Casbah," so I got all nostalgic for the Clash again)
Train In Vain
Basketball
When I was but a wee one I adored basketball. I wasn't very good, but I practiced often and enjoyed the feeling of blowing past someone on the court to go for a lay-up. Granted, those lay-ups hardly ever went in ("Backboard, Andy!) and the occasions I blew past people were during sprint drills, but it was great nonetheless. Then I got to Jr. High. I tried out for the team and was cut. In the first round.
I played a bit for an NJB team where the times I was actually on the court I was simply there because everyone paid to be on a team, thus the time on court had to be distributed somewhat evenly. I scored only one basket my entire season. When time came for the team's awards ceremony where everyone got some sort of diploma-esque piece of paper saying that they were great in this field or whatnot. Everyone got their specialized award-paper saying "MVP" or "Most Assists" or some crap like that. I got something to the tone of "Participator." It was a bit glossed up so that it didn't sound as bad as that, but seeing as the only two people who got that particular award were myself and the kid who hardly ever showed up, I knew that it was the pity award.
Needless to say, I didn't play much basketball after that. I ended up becoming bored even watching the sport. Something about ten guys on a court in a high-scoring match wherein jumps of excitement are had after launching a spherical object into a hoop barely larger in circumference than said spheroid did it for me. The fast-pace and the growing inability to focus on what the heck was going on, along with the ego-driven, athlete-celebrities glaring at one another with an over-abundance of testosterone stopped appealing to the 13 year old Andy.
Basketball for Andy lost its fun, its magic (and Magic), and its intrigue. While you may be thinking: "Where's he going with this?" I'm getting to that. One team out there kept a particular spirit of fun and light-heartedness on the court. Mixing a sport I once watched like a hawk with one of two things that I couldn't live without, comedy, this team is what lets me hold a little bit of respect for the sport. If you haven't guessed it, I'm talking about the Harlem Globetrotters (no, not the Warriors, though they should come out to play). And why do I bring up the Harlem Globetrotters? Because they're coming to San Diego! I don't have tickets, but if anyone out there wants to go see them, I'd be down to get a couple. They're playing February 13th, which is a Friday. Anyone?
I played a bit for an NJB team where the times I was actually on the court I was simply there because everyone paid to be on a team, thus the time on court had to be distributed somewhat evenly. I scored only one basket my entire season. When time came for the team's awards ceremony where everyone got some sort of diploma-esque piece of paper saying that they were great in this field or whatnot. Everyone got their specialized award-paper saying "MVP" or "Most Assists" or some crap like that. I got something to the tone of "Participator." It was a bit glossed up so that it didn't sound as bad as that, but seeing as the only two people who got that particular award were myself and the kid who hardly ever showed up, I knew that it was the pity award.
Needless to say, I didn't play much basketball after that. I ended up becoming bored even watching the sport. Something about ten guys on a court in a high-scoring match wherein jumps of excitement are had after launching a spherical object into a hoop barely larger in circumference than said spheroid did it for me. The fast-pace and the growing inability to focus on what the heck was going on, along with the ego-driven, athlete-celebrities glaring at one another with an over-abundance of testosterone stopped appealing to the 13 year old Andy.
Basketball for Andy lost its fun, its magic (and Magic), and its intrigue. While you may be thinking: "Where's he going with this?" I'm getting to that. One team out there kept a particular spirit of fun and light-heartedness on the court. Mixing a sport I once watched like a hawk with one of two things that I couldn't live without, comedy, this team is what lets me hold a little bit of respect for the sport. If you haven't guessed it, I'm talking about the Harlem Globetrotters (no, not the Warriors, though they should come out to play). And why do I bring up the Harlem Globetrotters? Because they're coming to San Diego! I don't have tickets, but if anyone out there wants to go see them, I'd be down to get a couple. They're playing February 13th, which is a Friday. Anyone?
Monday, January 26, 2009
Music For 1/26/09
Deep Blue Sea was brought up in conversation today which sparked a memory of really bad (amazing?) rap songs made specifically for movies. Below are some of my favorites.
LL Cool J
Deepest Bluest (sorry, the audio doesn't match up with the video. My hat is like a sharks fin?)
Will Smith
Wild Wild West
I have no idea who did this song
Space Jam (Unfortunately there was no official music video to go along with it, and the only full-length song was this really bad fan-made anime thing. I suggest just listening to the song while another page is up. So bad)
LL Cool J
Deepest Bluest (sorry, the audio doesn't match up with the video. My hat is like a sharks fin?)
Will Smith
Wild Wild West
I have no idea who did this song
Space Jam (Unfortunately there was no official music video to go along with it, and the only full-length song was this really bad fan-made anime thing. I suggest just listening to the song while another page is up. So bad)
Ridiculousness!
"Flickr" has been quite deceptive. First was the issue with the amount of sets I could have, then the comments, then it tells me that I have 100 Megabytes a month in photos to fill up, but upon reaching 186 photos at about 10 Megabytes, the system is now telling me that I have a 200 photo limit and if I want to exceed that limit I'll have to upgrade to "Pro" status for $24.95 (for an entire year). I know I'll more than likely do this, but dammit, don't tell me I have 100 MB to use when I'm only getting 10. Liars!
Concert Photos
The concert section has been added, but is still missing some photos. They'll be up shortly...as soon as I can figure out where I saved them all. Link to the left.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
More Photos
More bouldering photos have been posted from last week. I'm still trying to get the other photos uploaded, but can't remember where I saved all of my files. Be patient as they'll make their way up there eventually.
Also:
I'm not certain what the "flickr" policy is on non-users commenting on photos, but feel free to let me know what you think about the photo quality, areas that need improvement, etc. I know I'm not the best photographer, but I'm trying to improve my skills in the field. Tips, suggestions, opinions, critiques are greatly appreciated.
Further Updates:
I guess non-users can't comment, but if you'd like to do any of the above, then simply copy the link to the photo (if there's one in particular) and paste it into a comment thread here along with your thoughts on it. Or you can just sign up for a "flickr" account, add your own photos (or don't) and "friend" me and comment all you like without using the backwards route just mentioned.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Last Weekend, This Weekend
As I hinted at in my previous post, there happened to be something that I wanted to address that I observed last weekend. It all comes down to the phrase "grow up." For quite some time I believed myself to be more mature than many of my peers, a "big man on campus" if you will. Being younger than most (all) of my friends, I always felt that I had to bring myself up to speed in the "growing up" department. That was mainly due to the fact that my friends would always call me a "baby" (this was mainly by my female friends) for being younger than them all and not able to legally attend a bar until recently. In irritation I developed a sort of bitterness towards the people that would jab me with these remarks. I thought that having actually done something (or being in the process of doing something) with my life made me more adult, more mature, something better than the people who were simply working from 18-24, worrying more about their alcohol consumption and making ends meat than actually attempting to better their lives. I noticed the child-like behavior from those who dared to call me a child.
Let me start this again. People my age are idiots. Myself included. Very few people from age 19-24 are grounded or have any sense of maturity. The beginnings of adulthood are shown, but don't quite emerge until that humbling experience shows us how truly stupid we are. We have a reckless disregard for any and all people that are actually important to us, believing that they will be around forever to return to when times get rough. This isn't the case at all. We haven't quite learned to live for others, but absorb ourselves in selfish behavior.
I used to think that becoming an adult, maturing meant a sort of castration of the soul wherein we merely become shadows of our former selves. This, I know now, is not the case. Last weekend I met people barely older than myself and people much older than myself so much more mature, yet retaining a youthfulness that I never thought possible. I met people who I admire greatly for their shining optimism, their mature nature and yet their complete nerdiness. I keep trying to figure out what it is that makes them so appealing and I come back to the liveliness and the bright outlook on all of life. Their maturity (I believe) comes from experience and responsibility. Every single family member was this way, and each and every one of them made this once tortured soul feel at home and comfortable, as though I were a part of their family, or the kid who grew up next door and hung out with the family all the time so everybody likes him and treats him as one of their own.
The event was a surprise party celebrating my Grandpa's friends' 45th anniversary. The first time I'd met the surprise-ees was years ago, the first time I'd met their kids was the night before the event. And everyone who wasn't a part of my own family I met the day of the festivities. I made some friends that weekend that I'm certain I'll keep in contact with, hopefully for the rest of my life. While I haven't necessarily explained myself too well, I can say that these people taught me a lot about myself and have aided in some sort of bizarre process of shedding the skin of the old and preparing me for a new chapter in my life which I know will start once I've graduated in May. All I can say is thanks to these folks and to those who haven't given up on this lad. Man, I suck at writing.
Tonight I'll be out seeing Fountains of Wayne. I may or may not go on another hike tomorrow as I work 4-9.
Let me start this again. People my age are idiots. Myself included. Very few people from age 19-24 are grounded or have any sense of maturity. The beginnings of adulthood are shown, but don't quite emerge until that humbling experience shows us how truly stupid we are. We have a reckless disregard for any and all people that are actually important to us, believing that they will be around forever to return to when times get rough. This isn't the case at all. We haven't quite learned to live for others, but absorb ourselves in selfish behavior.
I used to think that becoming an adult, maturing meant a sort of castration of the soul wherein we merely become shadows of our former selves. This, I know now, is not the case. Last weekend I met people barely older than myself and people much older than myself so much more mature, yet retaining a youthfulness that I never thought possible. I met people who I admire greatly for their shining optimism, their mature nature and yet their complete nerdiness. I keep trying to figure out what it is that makes them so appealing and I come back to the liveliness and the bright outlook on all of life. Their maturity (I believe) comes from experience and responsibility. Every single family member was this way, and each and every one of them made this once tortured soul feel at home and comfortable, as though I were a part of their family, or the kid who grew up next door and hung out with the family all the time so everybody likes him and treats him as one of their own.
The event was a surprise party celebrating my Grandpa's friends' 45th anniversary. The first time I'd met the surprise-ees was years ago, the first time I'd met their kids was the night before the event. And everyone who wasn't a part of my own family I met the day of the festivities. I made some friends that weekend that I'm certain I'll keep in contact with, hopefully for the rest of my life. While I haven't necessarily explained myself too well, I can say that these people taught me a lot about myself and have aided in some sort of bizarre process of shedding the skin of the old and preparing me for a new chapter in my life which I know will start once I've graduated in May. All I can say is thanks to these folks and to those who haven't given up on this lad. Man, I suck at writing.
Tonight I'll be out seeing Fountains of Wayne. I may or may not go on another hike tomorrow as I work 4-9.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
First Day, Past Weekend, Last Thursday
As was to be expected of the first day this semester, all was boring and nothing was said. Being that this be my last semester, I opted for an easy route out, wherein I wouldn't have to do anything serious or strenuous. It also helps that the only classes left for me to take are general education. That being said, it's almost as though I'm a freshman all over again. Three of four classes entered today were full of the bright-eyed, optimistic eighteen-year olds cogitating over their recent vacations and of parties-to-be. I can't say that I was nostalgic.
While these past four years of college have not necessarily been to my liking, I certainly appreciate the experience. Perhaps some years down the line I'll wish I had continued on in my schooling and may return for an advanced degree, but that time is not now and will not be soon. The feeling of an internal explosion, the need for excitement, adventure and danger has been hounding me for quite some time and with the end so near in sight the feeling is almost unbearable. My only concern is that I let this feeling cloud my judgment and my work, causing me to fail the only classes I have left to take. I tread dangerous waters at the moment and cannot afford to make even the slightest miscalculation. May 21st is 4 months away. Plenty of time to slip up.
But you all don't want to hear about that, do you? You do? Oh. Well...ah...um...
...
...
ellipsis
So a week ago I went out hiking again. I was recommended a book entitled Afoot and Afield: San Diego County which highlights all hiking trails from beach to desert in San Diego County (duh), providing me with several different areas to explore and get lost in. So last Thursday I opted to revisit the Lake Cuyamaca area, completing a 10.5 mile hike in roughly 4 hours 15 minutes, including a lunch break. I started my hike at 8:15, returning by noon 30, having seen absolutely no one on the trail and only one other auto parked in the lot. I was awed at the mule deer I sighted and even managed to snag several photos of them running from my presence. I observed roughly 30 mule deer in one location and captured about 20 in one photograph, before noticing a group of others approaching from a different direction making a rendezvous with the larger group just mentioned.
The trail taken was a bit tricky as several downed trees blocked my path, forcing detours and a bit of trailblazing, but this only added to the fun of the hike. One of the switchbacks was overgrown, causing a second-guessing in my own judgment as to which way I should be going or whether or not I was on the correct trail. Everything was great, but once again my cell phone managed to put itself in the "on" position, prompting two voicemails from Omar, desperately asking me to come in to cover for our employee who either quit, was fired, or simply disappeared off the face of the Earth. Feeling guilty (despite the fact that it was my day off) and having finished the trip earlier than expected, I picked up a 4-9 shift, but not before stopping off in Julian (where the people are jerks) for some apple pie...that I bought for my co-worker. Didn't even taste it. Dang.
Friday saw my return home for the weekend. The weekend showed me some glorious things that made me think more about the person that I've been and will be in the coming years. And having been at this post for a bit and wanting more dedication to that post, I'll leave you all with this semi-paragraph describing not really anything at all. Expect the post tomorrow or this weekend. I apologize for the lack of words lately, but getting situated for the new school year has been a bit time consuming, along with work and MGS. The photos are slowly but surely getting posted onto the designated page, but I found out after establishing my three sets that I only get three sets. I don't know how to edit the sets without deleting them first, but I can still add my photos. I'll have one "set" designated to outdoor photography, one for concerts and one for anything that doesn't fall into either of those categories, but first I must figure out how to do it all. Until next time.
While these past four years of college have not necessarily been to my liking, I certainly appreciate the experience. Perhaps some years down the line I'll wish I had continued on in my schooling and may return for an advanced degree, but that time is not now and will not be soon. The feeling of an internal explosion, the need for excitement, adventure and danger has been hounding me for quite some time and with the end so near in sight the feeling is almost unbearable. My only concern is that I let this feeling cloud my judgment and my work, causing me to fail the only classes I have left to take. I tread dangerous waters at the moment and cannot afford to make even the slightest miscalculation. May 21st is 4 months away. Plenty of time to slip up.
But you all don't want to hear about that, do you? You do? Oh. Well...ah...um...
...
...
ellipsis
So a week ago I went out hiking again. I was recommended a book entitled Afoot and Afield: San Diego County which highlights all hiking trails from beach to desert in San Diego County (duh), providing me with several different areas to explore and get lost in. So last Thursday I opted to revisit the Lake Cuyamaca area, completing a 10.5 mile hike in roughly 4 hours 15 minutes, including a lunch break. I started my hike at 8:15, returning by noon 30, having seen absolutely no one on the trail and only one other auto parked in the lot. I was awed at the mule deer I sighted and even managed to snag several photos of them running from my presence. I observed roughly 30 mule deer in one location and captured about 20 in one photograph, before noticing a group of others approaching from a different direction making a rendezvous with the larger group just mentioned.
The trail taken was a bit tricky as several downed trees blocked my path, forcing detours and a bit of trailblazing, but this only added to the fun of the hike. One of the switchbacks was overgrown, causing a second-guessing in my own judgment as to which way I should be going or whether or not I was on the correct trail. Everything was great, but once again my cell phone managed to put itself in the "on" position, prompting two voicemails from Omar, desperately asking me to come in to cover for our employee who either quit, was fired, or simply disappeared off the face of the Earth. Feeling guilty (despite the fact that it was my day off) and having finished the trip earlier than expected, I picked up a 4-9 shift, but not before stopping off in Julian (where the people are jerks) for some apple pie...that I bought for my co-worker. Didn't even taste it. Dang.
Friday saw my return home for the weekend. The weekend showed me some glorious things that made me think more about the person that I've been and will be in the coming years. And having been at this post for a bit and wanting more dedication to that post, I'll leave you all with this semi-paragraph describing not really anything at all. Expect the post tomorrow or this weekend. I apologize for the lack of words lately, but getting situated for the new school year has been a bit time consuming, along with work and MGS. The photos are slowly but surely getting posted onto the designated page, but I found out after establishing my three sets that I only get three sets. I don't know how to edit the sets without deleting them first, but I can still add my photos. I'll have one "set" designated to outdoor photography, one for concerts and one for anything that doesn't fall into either of those categories, but first I must figure out how to do it all. Until next time.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Updates
Hello all,
Yours truly has been quite busy as of late. That's a lie, no I haven't. What I mean to say is that I've been away from my computer a great deal more than usual. This has its pros and cons. The benefits of my absence from the internets include fresh air, exercise, more photos, social interactions not involving a head-set and an Xbox (not that there’s anything wrong with that), an increase in daily energy and various other little things I can’t think of off the top of my head. The cons? There really are none, unless you have nothing better to do than refresh your browser waiting for me to write the latest thrilling tale of Seaport Village drama (more “Letters From Omar” soon), or a captivating installment of “what’s that in my beard?” (which hasn’t been done…yet).
Cons aside, I’m sure you’ve all noticed the swell of photos coming your way. This has proven difficult for the site as blogger allows only five photos per-post, hence the “segments.” Up until recently the photos posted on this site were few and far between, but due to hiking and general outdoors-ness, I’ve felt the need to share my mediocre photographic skill(z) with you all. In an attempt to bring you the photos of my adventures without creating multiple posts, I’ve started a “flickr” page that I will link you to. This will allow for ample amounts of pictures that you can visit whenever you like and not have to go trolling through the archives to find (that's quite bold of me to assume that some of you actually do that). Over the next few days I will gradually upload photos old and new as well as have a write-up of the extraordinary weekend (Thursday to Sunday) that was had by myself, and (presumably) others. This is the link to the photos so far, including Thursday’s hike and Tuesday’s bouldering. I’ll also leave a permanent link to the left.
Talk to you soon,
Andy
Yours truly has been quite busy as of late. That's a lie, no I haven't. What I mean to say is that I've been away from my computer a great deal more than usual. This has its pros and cons. The benefits of my absence from the internets include fresh air, exercise, more photos, social interactions not involving a head-set and an Xbox (not that there’s anything wrong with that), an increase in daily energy and various other little things I can’t think of off the top of my head. The cons? There really are none, unless you have nothing better to do than refresh your browser waiting for me to write the latest thrilling tale of Seaport Village drama (more “Letters From Omar” soon), or a captivating installment of “what’s that in my beard?” (which hasn’t been done…yet).
Cons aside, I’m sure you’ve all noticed the swell of photos coming your way. This has proven difficult for the site as blogger allows only five photos per-post, hence the “segments.” Up until recently the photos posted on this site were few and far between, but due to hiking and general outdoors-ness, I’ve felt the need to share my mediocre photographic skill(z) with you all. In an attempt to bring you the photos of my adventures without creating multiple posts, I’ve started a “flickr” page that I will link you to. This will allow for ample amounts of pictures that you can visit whenever you like and not have to go trolling through the archives to find (that's quite bold of me to assume that some of you actually do that). Over the next few days I will gradually upload photos old and new as well as have a write-up of the extraordinary weekend (Thursday to Sunday) that was had by myself, and (presumably) others. This is the link to the photos so far, including Thursday’s hike and Tuesday’s bouldering. I’ll also leave a permanent link to the left.
Talk to you soon,
Andy
Andy's Journies
It's always good to have an artist around to catalog the events of your life. The following series of photos depicts the past 21 years of Andy, all in a nice border. Thanks Sam.
There shouldn't be ice in that drink
Spelled "Omish" purposely
Good times
Fraternal twins
Friday, January 16, 2009
Music For 1/16/09
Vaughn Monroe
There I Said It Again
Benny Goodman
These Foolish Things Remind Me Of You
Jimmy Dorsey, Hellen O'Connell
Rubber Dolly
Jo Stafford
Long Ago And Far Away
There I Said It Again
Benny Goodman
These Foolish Things Remind Me Of You
Jimmy Dorsey, Hellen O'Connell
Rubber Dolly
Jo Stafford
Long Ago And Far Away
Bouldering & Hiking Photos
I've got some photos from my hiking and bouldering the other day as well as from my hiking/backpacking on Thursday. I'll post photos then a write-up on yesterday's outing/adventure. Bouldering Photos first, Backpacking adventure later during the day, maybe even tomorrow.
Brian Bouldering Segment
Brian Bouldering Segment
Bouldering and Hiking Photos
Mission Trails & Andy Bouldering Segment
This was the the formation I mentioned that reminded me of the Death Star trench-run.
This was the the formation I mentioned that reminded me of the Death Star trench-run.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Canadians
I stole this from Andrew, but I couldn't resist. I was utterly confused, and a little disturbed, but also in tears of laughter. Some of their other "video movies" had me on the ground.
Poor Sharon.
And since we're just about half-ways into the new year, there's still time to say this (had I seen this video earlier it would have made the New Year's Eve post):
Poor Sharon.
And since we're just about half-ways into the new year, there's still time to say this (had I seen this video earlier it would have made the New Year's Eve post):
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Finally!
As stated earlier, I forgot my ipod at my apartment in my rush to get to work today. SPV is dead enough as it is, if I don't have music to accompany my self-imprisonment the days go by much slower. Tiring of the "indie" sounds coming from MPR (though I'm not knocking the station, they play some good stuff, but the bad stuff often outweighs the good), I decided to find an online station playing the best music known to man: Big Band/Swing music. Seeing as San Diego is lacking in the Big Band/Swing radio station department, the internet has provided me with links to various different stations across the states. I've added a link to the left for the page containing a few of those stations in case any of you are interested. Go Andy.
More Idiocy
I mentioned that I've been unable to keep track of what day it is, thinking the day of the week is always a different one. I've done it once again. I was under the assumption that I started school a week from today. It's actually a week from Thursday that I start. What the hell is wrong with me? Have I lost track of the day because I don't have a set work schedule and I never have the same days off? Is it because I don't have class to tell me when I'm supposed to be somewhere? Jiminy Christmas! School needs to start already so that it can end already.
UPDATE:
Oh, jeez. I really need to get it together. I have Thursday off, Friday 10-4, Saturday off. I was thinking I was working Wednesday to Friday without a break. I just need to remember not to show up on Thursday. Chances are I'll forget and show up anyways. Sigh.
UPDATE:
Oh, jeez. I really need to get it together. I have Thursday off, Friday 10-4, Saturday off. I was thinking I was working Wednesday to Friday without a break. I just need to remember not to show up on Thursday. Chances are I'll forget and show up anyways. Sigh.
Music For 1/13/09
I couldn't resist. How could you not like the B-52s? If you're not having fun listening to the B-52s there's something horribly wrong with you.
Love Shack
Rock Lobster
Private Idaho
Love Shack
Rock Lobster
Private Idaho
Hiking, Bouldering & Such
It would appear that my idiocy worked in my favor for once. Apparently I was scheduled to work from 10-4 today, but seeing as I haven't worked that shift since my first day back on the job, I assumed that I was at my usual 4-9. So at 10:20 am, after I'd just finished chalking my hands, not two seconds before I was to horizontally scale a rock formation, 3 miles into the regional park, I was surprised to feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. Mainly because I'd turned my phone off. The fact that my phone was ringing upset me as once again this cell has proven to be an utter nuisance. What bothered me even more was that the person calling was my boss. 10:20, I thought, what could he possibly want at 10:20? He probably needs me to come in. Yadzia's been sick, so maybe she called off.
Andy: (Confused look) "Hello?"
Omar: "Heyandy, howyoudoing" (it wasn't a question)
A: (Still confused) "I'm fine, what's up?"
O: "Andy, you supposed to work today at 10"
A: (Even more confused, surprised, somewhat taken aback) "Really? I thought I was 4-9?"
O: "Lemme see, what day is it today?"
A: (Raised eyebrow) "Tuesday" (Earlier during the day I thought it was Wednesday, but that's because I haven't been able to figure out the day of the week, just the date. I've been thinking I'm a day ahead for the past few weeks, but that's a missive for a different time)
O: "Tuesday, let me see....Yeah you supposed to come in at 10 o'clock."
A: (The "oops" face) "Oh jeez, sorry about that, Omar; I thought I was 4-9."
O: "Is no problem, just come in at 1, you work from 1-9."
A: (relieved, satisfied)"Oh, alright, sounds good. I'll be there at 1."
O: "Yeah, 1-9, I put you 1-9."
A: (Normal tone) "Ok, thanks Omar."
O: "Yeah, ok, thankyoubuddy, Iappreciateit, thankyoubyebye"
Seeing as we made it to the park at about 8 or 815, we figured that we should leave shortly after the call if I wanted to make it back to my apartment to drop Brian off and to be able to grab something to eat. For 20 minutes more we did the horizontal shuffle on a few rocks while getting some photos of climbing action and general scenery. I got a photo of some water in between a rock formation that reminded me of the Death Star trench-run (IT'S AWAY!). We decided that if we remained bouldering we wouldn't make it back in time for me to get to work, so we got to Marionette with some time for lunch.
I rushed leaving my apartment and ended up leaving my books and ipod at home, leaving me with internet radio (from Minnesota) and of course my first customer was a difficult one (though not my fault). My co-worker had decided to tell some old Ecuadorian woman that she could find polaroid film for her (which wasn't the case) and had her pay up-front for the damned stuff without having the product. So today she was expecting her special order and we didn't have it. She was giving me grief about it until she learned I was Cuban (apparently I don't look it), then she just started giving me grief about my co-worker (who's Bolivian). She had a gross mustache. Poor old lady, she probably just wanted someone to talk to since she was here for awhile telling me about all of the other Latin-folk she knows and where they're all from. Lady doesn't even have a phone (so she says), but she was so broken-hearted when I told her that they didn't manufacture the polaroid film anymore. She gave us her address so that in case we ever came across any of it to write her telling her that we've got some in.
Getting to work earlier than normal had another benefit as well. Food. Omar brought in some food from his restaurant for all of the employees working the day shift. After reflection and the happenings of the day I saw that my not knowing to come in at 10 was a huge plus. Had I known I was working at 10 I wouldn't have gone hiking or climbing. Had I known to come in at 10 I wouldn't have had fun, and I would have only worked 6 hours instead of 8, meaning I now get more money on my next paycheck and a 30 minute break...that I'll do nothing on. I also wouldn't have had any fun whatsoever (unless I was playing CoD...which I would have been). So, Andy's stupidity? If it's going to get me benefits like today's? Fine by me. I'll hopefully do it again soon. Maybe tomorrow. Or Thursday. Not Friday, though.
Andy: (Confused look) "Hello?"
Omar: "Heyandy, howyoudoing" (it wasn't a question)
A: (Still confused) "I'm fine, what's up?"
O: "Andy, you supposed to work today at 10"
A: (Even more confused, surprised, somewhat taken aback) "Really? I thought I was 4-9?"
O: "Lemme see, what day is it today?"
A: (Raised eyebrow) "Tuesday" (Earlier during the day I thought it was Wednesday, but that's because I haven't been able to figure out the day of the week, just the date. I've been thinking I'm a day ahead for the past few weeks, but that's a missive for a different time)
O: "Tuesday, let me see....Yeah you supposed to come in at 10 o'clock."
A: (The "oops" face) "Oh jeez, sorry about that, Omar; I thought I was 4-9."
O: "Is no problem, just come in at 1, you work from 1-9."
A: (relieved, satisfied)"Oh, alright, sounds good. I'll be there at 1."
O: "Yeah, 1-9, I put you 1-9."
A: (Normal tone) "Ok, thanks Omar."
O: "Yeah, ok, thankyoubuddy, Iappreciateit, thankyoubyebye"
Seeing as we made it to the park at about 8 or 815, we figured that we should leave shortly after the call if I wanted to make it back to my apartment to drop Brian off and to be able to grab something to eat. For 20 minutes more we did the horizontal shuffle on a few rocks while getting some photos of climbing action and general scenery. I got a photo of some water in between a rock formation that reminded me of the Death Star trench-run (IT'S AWAY!). We decided that if we remained bouldering we wouldn't make it back in time for me to get to work, so we got to Marionette with some time for lunch.
I rushed leaving my apartment and ended up leaving my books and ipod at home, leaving me with internet radio (from Minnesota) and of course my first customer was a difficult one (though not my fault). My co-worker had decided to tell some old Ecuadorian woman that she could find polaroid film for her (which wasn't the case) and had her pay up-front for the damned stuff without having the product. So today she was expecting her special order and we didn't have it. She was giving me grief about it until she learned I was Cuban (apparently I don't look it), then she just started giving me grief about my co-worker (who's Bolivian). She had a gross mustache. Poor old lady, she probably just wanted someone to talk to since she was here for awhile telling me about all of the other Latin-folk she knows and where they're all from. Lady doesn't even have a phone (so she says), but she was so broken-hearted when I told her that they didn't manufacture the polaroid film anymore. She gave us her address so that in case we ever came across any of it to write her telling her that we've got some in.
Getting to work earlier than normal had another benefit as well. Food. Omar brought in some food from his restaurant for all of the employees working the day shift. After reflection and the happenings of the day I saw that my not knowing to come in at 10 was a huge plus. Had I known I was working at 10 I wouldn't have gone hiking or climbing. Had I known to come in at 10 I wouldn't have had fun, and I would have only worked 6 hours instead of 8, meaning I now get more money on my next paycheck and a 30 minute break...that I'll do nothing on. I also wouldn't have had any fun whatsoever (unless I was playing CoD...which I would have been). So, Andy's stupidity? If it's going to get me benefits like today's? Fine by me. I'll hopefully do it again soon. Maybe tomorrow. Or Thursday. Not Friday, though.
Proud
Proud to be an American. I may be of Latin descent, but through and through I'm a red-blooded American. Got that? That's red-blooded American, not Red Commie Bastard.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Ourang Medan
This is pretty cool. I'm curious to know if there's any sort of recording around so that folks could try to take a stab at the indecipherable Morse code. But really, how creepily cool is that?
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Friday, January 9, 2009
?!
Are you fucking kidding me? When the hell did we start selling Barack Obama key chains? Are people so obsessed with this man that they need him on their keys at all times? Here's something I was holding back on a bit: You know the Obama campaign posters that looked like this? That sort of reminds me of a poster I'd seen in a history class...hm...I wonder...what did that poster have on it? Oh, that's right! Evil dictators who used equality for all as means to soften the people before taking over with their iron-fisted despotism. Here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here - <--That's a good one, though not quite the comparison I was trying to make - here, here, here...well, maybe not there, but here. Sigh. First it'll be socialized medicine, then what? Agricultural collectivism? Then people will be forced into political correctness so as not to hurt anyone's feelings, then the right to speak out against government will go and then we'll all be hunted like dogs. Let's see where these next four years take us.
Music For 1/9/09
Some Billy Bragg today. Some you've heard, some perhaps not. They're all good. I need to pick up his most recent album, Mr. Love and Justice. I don't know why I haven't yet. It's good that he doesn't just stick to political songs all the time. I enjoy the political ones, but his others I think are much better. These are some of the non-political ones.
Man in the Iron Mask (completely devoid of Leonardo DiCaprio)
The Milkman of Human Kindness
Something Happened
Man in the Iron Mask (completely devoid of Leonardo DiCaprio)
The Milkman of Human Kindness
Something Happened
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Decisions
Does anyone know where I can buy mustache wax? The mustache portion of my beard has reached the point where I just might be able to start a handlebar. The question becomes, do I let it all grow out for a little bit or get rid of the rest and try for the mustache I've wanted since I was in elementary school? Decisions, decisions.
Deep Breath
Shit. Balls. Fuck. Damned freshmen. Don't fuck this up for me. I have a chance at four-day weekends every week. You lousy fucks. Fuck. 2:30pm. Tomorrow. Shit. Fuck. Don't take this away from me. My one, small victory that I can have. Stupid fucking SDSU and their goddamn bullshit system of registration selection. Fuck.
UPDATE:
I've put together a back-up schedule that might work better than the original one I had set up. Hmm...my luck just needs to hold out for 18 hours 5 minutes more.
UPDATE:
I've put together a back-up schedule that might work better than the original one I had set up. Hmm...my luck just needs to hold out for 18 hours 5 minutes more.
Batman For President
Election season may be over and so may be 2008, but all is not lost. There is still hope that Batman becomes (became?) president elect in '08 and our president in '09. Show your support! No Welfare. No Taxes. No Mercy.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
On The Greatness Of Firearms And Other Things
The past few days have been rather busy for me. As you all know, I happened to head on back to the old stomping grounds of my hometown for a few days in order to make a trek out to the desert with Sam for a day filled with the unloading of ammunition and general stress relief. I left San Diego after work on Saturday night and made it to Sam's place just before 11 pm. While we weren't scheduled to go shooting until Tuesday, I typically drive straight from San Diego to Sam's as the prospect of seeing my best friend/cousin/brother outweighs stopping by a house of sleeping people just to drop off my bags. Not to mention the warm acceptance given me by the rest of the Campagna household (and extended family). As often as I believe that returning home constitutes ample amounts of sleep in a comfortable bed with the added value of a heater during a brisk season, I always find myself corrected in this assumption. My first night home I remained awake until 4am slaughtering masses of 3D Japanese people on the island of Pelelieu and watching Sam decapitate hordes of Nazi Zombies. We also chatted and watched some DVDs. It wasn't all Call of Duty 5. Jeez.
The next night was slightly more tame as I remained at home. My grandparents visited for a few hours and I even spent some time at "The Great Indoors" with my folks and grandfolks, bored out of my wits looking at a liquidation sale with prices on tacky items still outrageously priced. They weren't even the good kind of tacky. Either way, I happened to get to bed around 1am and at roughly 6am I was woken by my beloved Frank who had been left outside when my parents left for work. Being a clever dog and knowing that I was home and hadn't left with my parents, she decided to whine, cry, and bark until, frustrated and quite upset, I walked downstairs and let that bitch into the house. That shut 'er up real good-like. The next three hours of sleep didn't go so well, but I managed a bit and by 9 I was up and showered, ready to head for a supply run with Sam for Tuesday's events. Oddly enough, had my dog chosen not to wake me and had I not been scheduled to meet Sam at 10am, the jackhammers that only seem to show up when I come home appeared at around 9.
Sam and I left for Bass Pro shortly after my arrival at his residence and spent the next few hours basking in the glory of reasonably priced outdoor goods. Sam picked up some ammo for Tuesday as well as a few other things that were quite nifty, such as a new pocket knife (whose brand name I can't remember at the moment). I came out of it with four Moon Pies, a hatchet, a pair of wool gloves (which were on sale from $12.95 at $5), hand warmers, and a Winchester "Tanto" knife that I later accidentally stabbed myself with...twice...
We then dined at the Hat. Pastrami burger + chili cheese fries + hot mustard = heaven. We hit up Best Buy, which had nothing we wanted. Game Stop had what we needed and Sam bought me a copy of Call of Duty 4. Thanks Sam! I bought Call of Duty 5 and we ventured back to Sam's to partake in more Jap-slaying festivities (Call of Duty 5). I made a brief stop at home for dinner and to see my folks after they'd gotten back from work and when they went off to sleep around 9/9:30 I went to see a friend of mine who I hadn't seen since summer time.
The plan that night was for me to spend the night at Sam's since we were to leave at 8am next day, that way we'd be able to sleep in a bit and we wouldn't have to worry about me not showing up on time. As mentioned in the previous paragraph, I happened to go out with a good friend of mine who I hadn't seen since summer. Prior to leaving San Diego I'd met an employee of SPV who goes to school at the same place as my friend which reminded me to see how she was doing. After contacting her, we made plans to hang out on Monday night. I figured I'd be back early enough to get back to Sam's place before he went to bed, but little did I realize that hunting for a bar in our area on a Monday night was a bit more difficult than I'd thought.
After trying the wine bar in Pomona with the lazy bartender who wanted to go home by 11, we decided that we were to go on an adventure to find a bar that wasn't a restaurant or sports bar. The idea of testosterone-filled alpha-males with ample amounts of hair gel, the latest fashions where everyone looks identical, a loud environment and empty-headed individuals wasn't for us. We wanted a dive. The hunt took us two hours. Chino Hills was filled with all we didn't want, Brea was shut down, leaving us with Downtown Fullerton. Our contingency plan was the bottle of bourbon that remained in the back of my truck from my camping on New Year's Eve. We ended up at a small bar in Fullerton with an hour until closing time, a bag of chips and a beer each. As bad as it sounds, the whole evening was actually a very enjoyable and fun time. My friend and I swapped embarassing stories from our past, expressed our general happiness in the fact that we try as hard as possible to avoid most people from high school, discussed the comfort in having a destination in our futures with an unknown path, and came to agreement that having run into each other at a Ted Leo concert nearly two years ago after having hardly spoken in high school and none at all since was quite a good thing as a strong friendship had been forged since that day. After being kicked out of the bar for closing time (and being the only two people there) we drove back to Chino Hills where we stopped in our High School parking lot. For the next 45 minutes I taught my friend how to drive a manual transmission automobile (not due to alcohol, I'd had 2 beers in a 4 hour time period, inebriation wasn't even in the picture. She actually wanted to learn). She's actually quite good. I was confident enough in her abilities to let her drive all the way home after she asked if she could. So either she catches on quick or I'm just a damned good teacher. We got back to her place, said our goodbyes and after pulling away from her driveway I couldn't help but feel stupid for not telling her how cool she is and perhaps something more. Maybe it's because on the 18th she goes back to Berkeley while I'm away in San Diego, or maybe it's because of my defences telling me that I'd likely fail at any sort of attempt at a relationship, especially a long-distance one, but getting back to my house I was generally tired and somewhat depressed at this occurrance, especially since the night had gone so well.
With my (possible) missed chance in mind, and my 7am waking time, I was ready to relieve some stress and shoot some damned guns for once in my life (second time with real firearms). After gassing up and picking up Sirena, we drove out to meet Randy and my uncle Ed at the McDonald's by Randy's place. After about an hour of driving we reached the exit which led us to a dirt road. A dirt road to victory (with a vengeance)! The off-roading trail brought us to a deserted spot with a flat area for parking and what looked like a makeshift fire pit. Up a small slope was to be our firing line. After setting up the targets all along the hill we returned to the line and prepared the weapons. What followed was several hours of bliss.
I was somewhat intimidated at first by all of the handguns to fire. Fearing that they would fly out of my hands while shooting was my main concern. That and I didn't want to look completely inept in my handling of guns, especially since I was with people who'd been shooting almost their entire lives. But after shooting one of Randy's handguns and them being completely fine with me missing most every shot, I calmed down a bit and had fun. The rest of the day was smiling, laughing, and feeling a strange sensation of nothingness, but not the bad kind of nothingness, the kind of nothingness that makes you forget that anything could ever be wrong in the world. I already posted the photos from the day's events, and to try to name all of the weapons I fired would be chaotic and I would need Sam's confirmation on the brands and calibers, but hundreds of rounds were shot and - as sam puts it - it smelled like the 4th of July. I left the desert with a high that may or may not have been produced by that smell. In fact, my shoulder is a little sore from Mr. Blast-a-lot.
Sam, Sirena and I stopped off at Lucille's on our way back where Sam then treated us to a nice and hearty dinner. We capped the night by watching Little Britain and making a trip to Borders. It was there that I finally said "see ya later" to Sam and Sirena and went home to watch John Adams take both the Vice-Presidency and the Presidency (all in two episodes!) and dowloaded the photos of the day's events. I need to get my camera cleaned. As you've probably noticed in some of the photos there is a black mark that shows up on either the top (if it's a vertical shot) or the right (if it's horizontal) of the pictures. I (unfortunately) had to crop some of my photos to remove it from sight, but it made its way into some of them as I found that cropping it might compromise the shot itself.
I'd like to thank Sam again. The trip, and this mini-vacation was well needed and had it been a typical visit home it would not have been as good as it was. Tomorrow I head back down to San Diego for work at 4. When I get home from work I'll have Call of Duty 4 and 5 to spend some quality time with. Longer than usual, but much has happened over the past few days and I'm quite tired at the moment (as it's now 1:37am). If I've left anything out, then I guess it's too late, but Sam will likely remember it and bring it to my attention. Ugh. Sleep-time.
The next night was slightly more tame as I remained at home. My grandparents visited for a few hours and I even spent some time at "The Great Indoors" with my folks and grandfolks, bored out of my wits looking at a liquidation sale with prices on tacky items still outrageously priced. They weren't even the good kind of tacky. Either way, I happened to get to bed around 1am and at roughly 6am I was woken by my beloved Frank who had been left outside when my parents left for work. Being a clever dog and knowing that I was home and hadn't left with my parents, she decided to whine, cry, and bark until, frustrated and quite upset, I walked downstairs and let that bitch into the house. That shut 'er up real good-like. The next three hours of sleep didn't go so well, but I managed a bit and by 9 I was up and showered, ready to head for a supply run with Sam for Tuesday's events. Oddly enough, had my dog chosen not to wake me and had I not been scheduled to meet Sam at 10am, the jackhammers that only seem to show up when I come home appeared at around 9.
Sam and I left for Bass Pro shortly after my arrival at his residence and spent the next few hours basking in the glory of reasonably priced outdoor goods. Sam picked up some ammo for Tuesday as well as a few other things that were quite nifty, such as a new pocket knife (whose brand name I can't remember at the moment). I came out of it with four Moon Pies, a hatchet, a pair of wool gloves (which were on sale from $12.95 at $5), hand warmers, and a Winchester "Tanto" knife that I later accidentally stabbed myself with...twice...
We then dined at the Hat. Pastrami burger + chili cheese fries + hot mustard = heaven. We hit up Best Buy, which had nothing we wanted. Game Stop had what we needed and Sam bought me a copy of Call of Duty 4. Thanks Sam! I bought Call of Duty 5 and we ventured back to Sam's to partake in more Jap-slaying festivities (Call of Duty 5). I made a brief stop at home for dinner and to see my folks after they'd gotten back from work and when they went off to sleep around 9/9:30 I went to see a friend of mine who I hadn't seen since summer time.
The plan that night was for me to spend the night at Sam's since we were to leave at 8am next day, that way we'd be able to sleep in a bit and we wouldn't have to worry about me not showing up on time. As mentioned in the previous paragraph, I happened to go out with a good friend of mine who I hadn't seen since summer. Prior to leaving San Diego I'd met an employee of SPV who goes to school at the same place as my friend which reminded me to see how she was doing. After contacting her, we made plans to hang out on Monday night. I figured I'd be back early enough to get back to Sam's place before he went to bed, but little did I realize that hunting for a bar in our area on a Monday night was a bit more difficult than I'd thought.
After trying the wine bar in Pomona with the lazy bartender who wanted to go home by 11, we decided that we were to go on an adventure to find a bar that wasn't a restaurant or sports bar. The idea of testosterone-filled alpha-males with ample amounts of hair gel, the latest fashions where everyone looks identical, a loud environment and empty-headed individuals wasn't for us. We wanted a dive. The hunt took us two hours. Chino Hills was filled with all we didn't want, Brea was shut down, leaving us with Downtown Fullerton. Our contingency plan was the bottle of bourbon that remained in the back of my truck from my camping on New Year's Eve. We ended up at a small bar in Fullerton with an hour until closing time, a bag of chips and a beer each. As bad as it sounds, the whole evening was actually a very enjoyable and fun time. My friend and I swapped embarassing stories from our past, expressed our general happiness in the fact that we try as hard as possible to avoid most people from high school, discussed the comfort in having a destination in our futures with an unknown path, and came to agreement that having run into each other at a Ted Leo concert nearly two years ago after having hardly spoken in high school and none at all since was quite a good thing as a strong friendship had been forged since that day. After being kicked out of the bar for closing time (and being the only two people there) we drove back to Chino Hills where we stopped in our High School parking lot. For the next 45 minutes I taught my friend how to drive a manual transmission automobile (not due to alcohol, I'd had 2 beers in a 4 hour time period, inebriation wasn't even in the picture. She actually wanted to learn). She's actually quite good. I was confident enough in her abilities to let her drive all the way home after she asked if she could. So either she catches on quick or I'm just a damned good teacher. We got back to her place, said our goodbyes and after pulling away from her driveway I couldn't help but feel stupid for not telling her how cool she is and perhaps something more. Maybe it's because on the 18th she goes back to Berkeley while I'm away in San Diego, or maybe it's because of my defences telling me that I'd likely fail at any sort of attempt at a relationship, especially a long-distance one, but getting back to my house I was generally tired and somewhat depressed at this occurrance, especially since the night had gone so well.
With my (possible) missed chance in mind, and my 7am waking time, I was ready to relieve some stress and shoot some damned guns for once in my life (second time with real firearms). After gassing up and picking up Sirena, we drove out to meet Randy and my uncle Ed at the McDonald's by Randy's place. After about an hour of driving we reached the exit which led us to a dirt road. A dirt road to victory (with a vengeance)! The off-roading trail brought us to a deserted spot with a flat area for parking and what looked like a makeshift fire pit. Up a small slope was to be our firing line. After setting up the targets all along the hill we returned to the line and prepared the weapons. What followed was several hours of bliss.
I was somewhat intimidated at first by all of the handguns to fire. Fearing that they would fly out of my hands while shooting was my main concern. That and I didn't want to look completely inept in my handling of guns, especially since I was with people who'd been shooting almost their entire lives. But after shooting one of Randy's handguns and them being completely fine with me missing most every shot, I calmed down a bit and had fun. The rest of the day was smiling, laughing, and feeling a strange sensation of nothingness, but not the bad kind of nothingness, the kind of nothingness that makes you forget that anything could ever be wrong in the world. I already posted the photos from the day's events, and to try to name all of the weapons I fired would be chaotic and I would need Sam's confirmation on the brands and calibers, but hundreds of rounds were shot and - as sam puts it - it smelled like the 4th of July. I left the desert with a high that may or may not have been produced by that smell. In fact, my shoulder is a little sore from Mr. Blast-a-lot.
Sam, Sirena and I stopped off at Lucille's on our way back where Sam then treated us to a nice and hearty dinner. We capped the night by watching Little Britain and making a trip to Borders. It was there that I finally said "see ya later" to Sam and Sirena and went home to watch John Adams take both the Vice-Presidency and the Presidency (all in two episodes!) and dowloaded the photos of the day's events. I need to get my camera cleaned. As you've probably noticed in some of the photos there is a black mark that shows up on either the top (if it's a vertical shot) or the right (if it's horizontal) of the pictures. I (unfortunately) had to crop some of my photos to remove it from sight, but it made its way into some of them as I found that cropping it might compromise the shot itself.
I'd like to thank Sam again. The trip, and this mini-vacation was well needed and had it been a typical visit home it would not have been as good as it was. Tomorrow I head back down to San Diego for work at 4. When I get home from work I'll have Call of Duty 4 and 5 to spend some quality time with. Longer than usual, but much has happened over the past few days and I'm quite tired at the moment (as it's now 1:37am). If I've left anything out, then I guess it's too late, but Sam will likely remember it and bring it to my attention. Ugh. Sleep-time.
Update Later
I'll have the write-up for you later tonight. I'm going to have dinner with my grandparents tonight, so I'll take care of it afterwards.
Desert Trip - Introduction and the Road to Glory
While the night is getting late and I'm a bit fatigued due to lack of sleep, prolonged exposure to the sun, and general fun-having, I wanted to update you all on the past couple days. While tomorrow (today) will have a more detailed account of my goings on, I've left you all photos of my trip to the desert with Sam, Sirena, my Uncle Ed and his best friend, Randy, to discharge many firearms and to release frustrations. What transpired was sheer greatness. I've separated the photos into different segments, from the photos that Sirena and Sam so graciously and generously took of myself and others to photos I took of anyone who wasn't myself. I've forgotten which photos I took and which the others did, but I'd like to thank them both for capturing this happy occasion. And thanks again to Sam and my Uncle for inviting me along. This trip was well needed.
The road to glory was unpaved, quite bumpy and more fun than a barrel of monkeys. Off-roading + Guns = Tusken Raider cheer
This was the view of our base camp from the firing line
Sam's Jeep, Uncle Ed's and Randy's trucks
Reloading
Most of the guns fired
The road to glory was unpaved, quite bumpy and more fun than a barrel of monkeys. Off-roading + Guns = Tusken Raider cheer
This was the view of our base camp from the firing line
Sam's Jeep, Uncle Ed's and Randy's trucks
Reloading
Most of the guns fired
Desert Trip - Andy Segment Part One
I'm a generally happy guy, but few things will make the enormous smile seen four of the five following photos come to my face. Mind you, I didn't pose for any of these photos at all.
This was prior to me shooting the gun, a bit nervous, but quite excited to do so.
This was prior to me shooting the gun, a bit nervous, but quite excited to do so.
This was afterwards. I clearly didn't care that I missed the target(s).
I really enjoyed my uncle's shotgun, Mr. Blast-a-lot.
Sam grabbed this picture of me after I'd just finished firing a .40 Glock.
This smile is even more rare than the first as it's the more mischievous, somewhat evil smile. The .357 magnum revolver that is in my hands here is the same caliber that I was planning on purchasing for my first pistol. After firing this gun, seeing what it could do and the noise that it made, the deal was settled.Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Desert Trip - Andy Segment Part Two
The first two photos of this segment were taken consecutively, and if you compare the photos together you'll see the firing position first, followed by the recoil of the pistol with the shell casing flying in action just above the black dot on the right-hand side of the photo. So if you copy the URL of each individual photo you can then put them in the browser one after the other and use the forward and back arrows to make it seem like I'm actually shooting the gun on your computer screen.
This photo reminds me of the famous picture of Big Foot walking through the forest that happens to be fairly unclear. I guess I'm not too far from Big Foot in lineage.
This photo reminds me of the famous picture of Big Foot walking through the forest that happens to be fairly unclear. I guess I'm not too far from Big Foot in lineage.
Desert Trip - Sam Segment
Sam with Mr. Blast-a-lot
Sam with a .40 Glock
Sam with his Ruger and a shell casing being ejected (look at the yellow box)
Sam giving me the smirk of vengeance
Sam looking like they typical bad ass that Sam isDesert Trip - Sam and Sirena Segment
Sam firing his dad's Marlin
Sirena annoyed that Sam took her photo
Sirena unloading the gun described as "cute."
Sirena firing Sam's new Ruger
I thought this was a good photoDesert Trip - Randy and Uncle Ed Segment
Uncle Ed with Mr. Blast-a-lot
Uncle Ed with his .22 revolver (which is loads of fun)
Randy firing one of his many guns
Randy making sure I don't accidentally kill anybody.
Randy reloading
Updates and Photos
Updates and Photos are coming soon. I'll have the photos from today's excursion to the desert up later tonight and perhaps a brief something-something to accompany it. I may do all of this while watching John Adams, making my progress somewhat slower. Go America!
Sunday, January 4, 2009
CoD5: WaW
While it hasn't been discussed in a good amount of time, all of you here know my passion for the elimination of zombie hordes. More than super powers, more than time travel, the one thing that I would enjoy more than anything is the opportunity to take a shotgun, machete, chainsaw, lawnmower, etc. to a mass of flesh-eating ghouls moving at a comically slow rate of speed. As we all know, there are no such things as real zombies (unless they're a government secret waiting to be unleashed on the populous, or the result of some sort of magic spell), so I and a great deal of others will never get an opportunity to fend off groaning invaders in a desperately fun struggle for survival.
Until the day arrives when we hear reports on the TV, radio, internet about the undead feeding on the living, the only thing the zombie-hunting enthusiasts can do is hope, dream, plan and pray for the day they start devouring our friends, enemies and loved ones alike. But to the zombie-hunter, there are few things that can make the battle for human survival even more satisfying. Each person has their own dream of what a zombie showdown would be like, whether you're sobbing as you have to exterminate your now ravenous family pet, or laughing maniacally as you're digging your chainsaw through your former boss's torso, but there's one thing that would make zombie eradication better for anyone and everyone, and that's to have the zombies the greatest enemy the world has ever known. That's right, Zombie Nazis.
What could be better than to take the symbol of one of the cruelest regimes ever to walk the face of the Earth and to blast them to bits once again? Those who wish they had lived in the time of the Great War so that they might have a chance to take part in global justice would have both of their dreams come true as the threat of a mindless feeding frenzy would be the new form of Fascism rearing its ugly head in the world. The cheer of "Die, Nazi Scum!" would once again make itself heard, but this time "again" or "Zombie" could be tagged to the sentence somewhere for that added bit of oomph.
But alas, until that day arrives when we take up arms against the greatest enemy, we can only plan and strategize, making contingency plans and fortifying our homes and vehicles for the one day we hear that grim (grim for some, joyous for others) report that dead Granny Jenkins ate little Billy, and Granny Jenkins was a Nazi sympathizer. Until that day arrives, we will have the glory that is Call of Duty: World at War. While at first it may seem like just a fun WWII game, after reaching a certain level of greatness, you unlock the bonus game of Nazi Zombies. Four survivors seeing how long they can hold out against wave after wave of Nazi Zombie hordes. Sometimes I really love technology.
Until the day arrives when we hear reports on the TV, radio, internet about the undead feeding on the living, the only thing the zombie-hunting enthusiasts can do is hope, dream, plan and pray for the day they start devouring our friends, enemies and loved ones alike. But to the zombie-hunter, there are few things that can make the battle for human survival even more satisfying. Each person has their own dream of what a zombie showdown would be like, whether you're sobbing as you have to exterminate your now ravenous family pet, or laughing maniacally as you're digging your chainsaw through your former boss's torso, but there's one thing that would make zombie eradication better for anyone and everyone, and that's to have the zombies the greatest enemy the world has ever known. That's right, Zombie Nazis.
What could be better than to take the symbol of one of the cruelest regimes ever to walk the face of the Earth and to blast them to bits once again? Those who wish they had lived in the time of the Great War so that they might have a chance to take part in global justice would have both of their dreams come true as the threat of a mindless feeding frenzy would be the new form of Fascism rearing its ugly head in the world. The cheer of "Die, Nazi Scum!" would once again make itself heard, but this time "again" or "Zombie" could be tagged to the sentence somewhere for that added bit of oomph.
But alas, until that day arrives when we take up arms against the greatest enemy, we can only plan and strategize, making contingency plans and fortifying our homes and vehicles for the one day we hear that grim (grim for some, joyous for others) report that dead Granny Jenkins ate little Billy, and Granny Jenkins was a Nazi sympathizer. Until that day arrives, we will have the glory that is Call of Duty: World at War. While at first it may seem like just a fun WWII game, after reaching a certain level of greatness, you unlock the bonus game of Nazi Zombies. Four survivors seeing how long they can hold out against wave after wave of Nazi Zombie hordes. Sometimes I really love technology.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Used Gear Sale
Well that was thoroughly frightening. I arrived at REI by 8:15 as the sale was to begin at 9am, only to make it into a line that was almost to the street 200 meters away from the entrance of the building. As 9 o'clock struck I saw some things that I'd only heard about with shoppers. As the used items were located outside the complex on the opposite end of the parking lot the line was snaking, those of us in the middle of the line not yet on the street observed the first wave of shoppers rush the backpack and tent section immediately as though all hell had broken loose. Teams of two and families would separate, collecting what goods they thought might be of value to them, piling them into mounds, sorting through their claim and discarding the rubbish for those left in the back to scavenge.
By the time I made it inside, most of the things that I might possibly need had been sorted, claimed and removed. Had I some aggressive attitude in the shopping world I would have undoubtedly been snarling, face to face with an opponent for something as unimportant as an old sweater. Even a passive customer, just looking to see what was available became treated as unwanted competition. Upon approaching boxes to scan, hordes of others would move in for the kill, muscling out anyone who might claim the camping pop-corn popper. Once they had deemed that popper unsuitable to their needs they would then allow the meek looky-loo to take their gander.
This "used gear sale" was more a gladiatorial arena for bloodthirsty, semi-hippies than a docile shopping event. For this shopper, the desire to acquire the best deal around served little motivation to his day's goal. After finally reaching any sort of box or bin, the price on the tag often resembled that of a brand new model. I was astonished that these once gentle creatures who clamor for ends to violence, who lack proper hygienic care and whose diets consist of mold grown in their backpacks, could be so aggressive and combatant.
After an immense disappointment in products and a fried brain due to the overwhelming crowds and bins of assorted goods, I decided to make a break for the inside. After a perusal of the standard items of REI, I decided I might buy some sock lining (made to prevent blisters and stop the making of holes in hiking socks) and some other items, but after seeing the line leading from the check-stand to the outside where I'd just come from, I thought better of it and left REI empty-handed and in a daze, amazed at the display of animalistic qualities I'd just seen in these humans.
A trip to Bass Pro on Monday will be quite refreshing as the crowds will be nowhere near the same and I'll soon have a food drier in my possession. That means jerky, trail mix, dried fruit, deliciousness. The food drier is to be a huge aid in my future backpacking excursions. After the food drier, my next big purchase will be a pair of boots and perhaps a bivy sack. I'll get to give the backpack another go-around this week. And these hiking socks are great. Comfortable and breathable.
By the time I made it inside, most of the things that I might possibly need had been sorted, claimed and removed. Had I some aggressive attitude in the shopping world I would have undoubtedly been snarling, face to face with an opponent for something as unimportant as an old sweater. Even a passive customer, just looking to see what was available became treated as unwanted competition. Upon approaching boxes to scan, hordes of others would move in for the kill, muscling out anyone who might claim the camping pop-corn popper. Once they had deemed that popper unsuitable to their needs they would then allow the meek looky-loo to take their gander.
This "used gear sale" was more a gladiatorial arena for bloodthirsty, semi-hippies than a docile shopping event. For this shopper, the desire to acquire the best deal around served little motivation to his day's goal. After finally reaching any sort of box or bin, the price on the tag often resembled that of a brand new model. I was astonished that these once gentle creatures who clamor for ends to violence, who lack proper hygienic care and whose diets consist of mold grown in their backpacks, could be so aggressive and combatant.
After an immense disappointment in products and a fried brain due to the overwhelming crowds and bins of assorted goods, I decided to make a break for the inside. After a perusal of the standard items of REI, I decided I might buy some sock lining (made to prevent blisters and stop the making of holes in hiking socks) and some other items, but after seeing the line leading from the check-stand to the outside where I'd just come from, I thought better of it and left REI empty-handed and in a daze, amazed at the display of animalistic qualities I'd just seen in these humans.
A trip to Bass Pro on Monday will be quite refreshing as the crowds will be nowhere near the same and I'll soon have a food drier in my possession. That means jerky, trail mix, dried fruit, deliciousness. The food drier is to be a huge aid in my future backpacking excursions. After the food drier, my next big purchase will be a pair of boots and perhaps a bivy sack. I'll get to give the backpack another go-around this week. And these hiking socks are great. Comfortable and breathable.
Friday, January 2, 2009
Ah, Television
So I guess while I was out camping on New Year's Eve, I missed this bit of televised glory:
I know what you're all thinking: What the hell was Anderson Cooper doing hosting the New Year's Eve program?
I know what you're all thinking: What the hell was Anderson Cooper doing hosting the New Year's Eve program?
Yessssssss!
My books and final 12 episodes came in today! And what's that? I just spent an hour of my job actually working? Preposterous! This needs to be remedied by a strict regimen of laziness, loafing and lack of attention to the customers that choose to come in for the rest of the day. That won't be difficult with 12 books to read! HUZZAH! Tomorrow will be a long day as REI is having their used gear sale and I'll have to be there by doors open to get the good gear before everyone else takes their pick, leaving me to scavenge the rest of it. Word.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Music For 1/1/09
I guess today's a Patrick Park themed day since I don't have anything else planned and that's what I've been listening to at work.
Your Smile's A Drug <-- The link goes to a recording with better audio, but the first 10-20 seconds or so got cut off, which is why the above video made the cut
Something Pretty
Here We Are
Your Smile's A Drug <-- The link goes to a recording with better audio, but the first 10-20 seconds or so got cut off, which is why the above video made the cut
Something Pretty
Here We Are
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