Autumn is here! For the harvest, we prepare Find a better season, ass****, I dare.
So hit the bricks summer, off your ivory tower! I'm ready to rock some plaid: Eddie Bauer. Hello and good morning barista, hook up a grande pumpkin spice. Nothing like this cool, crisp air to shoot a game of dice.
Hut! Hut! Grunt! Grunt! It's a football game! I hope my autumn raccoon turns out to be tame.
Through the pumpkin patch, we can walk in tandem. As for the haters, I can't stand 'em.
CAN'T STAND 'EM!
Blessed be your autumn wedding, but try not to brag. I hope your last names are conducive to a fun #hashtag. Let's not forget Halloween. What shall I be? Hold on, too many brown ales, now I have to pee.
Quality Autumn Cold
A ninja turtle is the deal, but these punk kids are so lame. It's hard to trick or treat, while playing a video game.
This morning I went to Target to grab a few things. As I was patiently waiting to ask someone where "automotive" is, I overheard a conversation between a customer and a store employee. The customer was going to the track and asked if they had any ponchos because she was ready to "buy them out". Unfortunately for her, she was informed by the store employee that all of the ponchos were already sold out. To this the customer replied "well, ya know what we did one year? We all just held a large tarp over our heads and moved around like an amoeba, it was absolutely genius." Then she bought a tarp. The whole exchange pissed me off greatly.
First off, I know we have had a dumbing down in America, but is holding a fucking tarp over your head when it is raining now considered "genius"? E=MC^2, NASA, The Great Gatsby, and covering your head when it is raining, one of these things is not like the other. Second, if the tarp thing worked so well, then why was she trying to buy ponchos. Did she tell everyone she was going with that she is bringing ponchos and is instead showing up with a tarp? They are going to the track, not covering a boat for the winter. Third, I do not know how an amoeba moves, but I doubt it is anything like a bunch of drunk people holding a tarp over their heads. Finally, what was the point of bragging to the Target employee about how many ponchos you were planning on buying? They do not work on commission. And what if they had 1000 ponchos, was she really going to "buy them out"?
I know some of you all may be wondering why I have been seething about this all day, but I like to think that some of you all are uncontrollably shaking with anger right now. I mean, a GENIUS, really?!? Come on.
I should close by noting that I hold no ill will towards the customer. I hope her and her friends have a fun, safe, and dry time at the track, but please, let's work on our phrasing when speaking to employees at Target. You never know who is listening and what they might blog about.
Some readers may remember that I have something of a beef with the "floor person" at my gym. However, for awhile, there were signs that our relationship was back to normal. For example, we were back to our routine conversation of:
her: "how are you?"
me: "good, you?"
(whatever she says).
But then this past Monday happened.
A long weekend had me hitting the complimentary YMCA coffee pretty hard. I grabbed a standard-issue Styrofoam cup, pumped some coffee in, and proceeded to take it into the gym while I wondered around assessing what physical activity was least likely to make me vomit. This was not the first time I had done this, nor would it be the last. After awhile, I settled on benching (Mondays, right bros?) and set my coffee down securely on a window ledge right next to the bench I was using.
Two minutes had not passed before I noticed the floor person in my peripheral, quickly approaching. Before I could pretend not to notice and throw myself down on the floor for some push-ups or something, she was in front of me. Time started to pass very slowly as I noticed her raising up a white object to present to me. My body quickly warmed and I began seeing red. I had not asked for a coffee cup lid, nor had I observed a sign necessitating the use of a coffee cup lid.
One could say that the law, in its majestic equality, requires both the gym floor person's friends and enemies use a plastic coffee cup lid.
"You have to have one, in case you spill. Everyone has one." Just as I felt as if I was going to combust, I became intrigued by the last part of her attack. Everyone has one? Even if not true, she had just, either knowingly or unknowingly, admitted that she had unjustly singled me out in the past! Suddenly, feeling vindicated, I decided against making a complete and total ass of myself. Somewhat pleasantly, I replied "Oh, I did not know you all had those up there (complete and total bullshit), thanks, now I know."
I placed the lid on securely and went on my way. Meanwhile, the gym floor person acted as if she had just seen a ghost. She was not expecting a somewhat-polite exchange. She was expecting a battle. Hopefully, she now understands that I can take her "rules", if valid and equally enforced, in stride. And if that's the case, well, gym floor person, be ready for a fresh "good, you?" tomorrow morning.
Two of the five most important things in life are friends and cold ones. Do you have any friends? I hope so. Do you have colds? God bless America, I hope so. If the answer to both of these questions is "no" then you need to reevaluate. Kill two birds with one stone by making a friend who brews beer.
How do you make friends? Try not to be too obnoxious when around others. How do you make a friend who brews beer? Try not to be too obnoxious around someone that brews beer. Maybe put a halt to some of your "quirks" that you think are adorable and have not gotten you anywhere to this point. When you meet someone who brews beer, refrain from discussing how you got your Key Club volunteer hours in high school. Reserve a conversation about your plans for next year's parade float for another time. Discuss something that unites us all: pounding cold ones.
If you play your cards right, you will meet someone who wants you to dabble in something delicious. They bust their ass making quality cold ones and you reap the rewards. And the best part is, although it does not seem like it, you are contributing something. Your input as to the quality of the beer they have produced is important. Imagine if you made something for others, like a blog or something, you would want feedback, especially positive feedback. Brewing colds is exactly the same, except with a much higher ABV.
Personally, I have had a handful people in my life who make beer and let me rip n' roar with their products. Of all those people, one man stands above the rest. He made my wedding beer, Proctorberfest, a 7% brown/pumpkin deal that had a multitude of Bud Light drinkers really cutting loose . He also made one of the five best beers I have ever pounded, BBB, a play on Founders' famed KBS, but better. At ~14%, the beer is basically its own three course, paired meal. Despite it being the definition of a sipper, I did not pass on one when my wife, and ride, told me we were leaving in five minutes and the brewer's Packers had just won the Super Bowl. He wanted to celebrate. I wanted to indulge. It was an interesting ride home, I think.
Colds Connection
And who is this hero for the masses? Buddy McHagan. Check out his blog as he fulfills his dreams and makes brews for a living. It is quite a venture, but do not worry, there will be a quality control expert at the ready.
The bottle and my soul are empty
Less mist, no matter how hard I press
Lacoste® Essential, (prolonged, audible sniff)
It had to come to an end, I guess
Scent-wise, where do I go from here?
It is so difficult to tell
Go cologne-less?
AND RISK SMELLING LIKE HELL?
Hold on a second,
I've had an epiphany!
How to fix this problem?
Bring back the Original Tommy®
Be on alert FragranceNet,
You're under attack!
It is Proctorstype,
Coming for a mid-90s throwback!
He's a grown man now,
Drinks wine to get bent
But he still requires
A clean, masculine scent.
I am ready to connect with my readership on a much more personal level. I feel exposed, but this is necessary:
1. In third grade math class we had a daily activity where we each offered up an equation that equaled the corresponding chronological number of days since the first day of school (on day 30 of the school year, we made equations for 30). Creativity and added difficulty were appreciated. Day 49 is a day I will never forget. After Billy Joe Dipshit volunteered "48 plus 1", I shot my hand in the air and said "seven squared" (I was not a prodigy or anything, my dad had explained the simplicity of squaring a number the night before). I killed it. The teacher was floored. I may as well have struck a match and burned that classroom to the ground. Since then I have gotten married and become a father to two beautiful children, so I think I can say this is no longer the greatest day of my life, but I will never forget.
2. For years I have fudged my "biggest splash" contest record. If you know me at all, you have probably heard me say I was undefeated in contests where the participants jump into a pool and see who can make the biggest splash. This is not true. I will say that my "nightmare" jump, a modified sleeper wherein I kick my feet throughout the jump, is vastly superior to a normal sleeper or a cannonball. However, I lost splash contests, and I apologize to all of my friends and family whom I have told otherwise. What was I thinking spouting off that I was undefeated? For God's sake, there are not official records or codified rules and the scoring is so damn subjective! I hate myself for this and feel I have made wrongs that I cannot right.
3. Today a woman left her driver's door open while pumping gas and impeded my cutting through to park and go into the store. I slowly drove around the door and missed it by about a foot. In my rearview mirror I could tell she was pissed and she hurried around to the door to close it. We entered the store at the same time and I was preparing myself for this conversation:
Her: You almost hit my door!
Me: Did I? Oh, you're welcome.
Her: What?!?
Me: For the lesson.
Her (irate): What are you talking about?!?
Me: You learned to close your driver's side door while pumping gas, you're welcome.
Then I would have thrown a $100 bill on the counter and left. It would have been very cool. Did not happen. She bought some cigarettes and left without acknowledging my presence.
4. Like many, I enjoy singing to myself. However, I have an added twist. I insert vulgarities in the short breaks between lines. For example, the Garth Brooks classic "Thunder Rolls" would sound something like this:
The thunder rolls
(WOO, SHIT)
And the lightning strikes
(HOT DAMN)
Another love grows cold
(MOTHER FUCKERS)
On this sleepless night
(SHIT THE BED)...
I know it seems juvenile and obnoxious, but somewhere deep down inside I think it could really work out. I just have not gotten the opportunity in front of an audience.
5. I do not like pranks, at all. Count me out. They are not funny, they are not fun. They are just a pain in the ass. If I could ensure that I am never pranked again and that I will never be guilted into pranking someone else, I would be at peace. Maybe I am just not a "fun person", but the idea of having to clean a bunch of toilet paper out of my fucking tree is not appealing.
The worst parts of The Office (otherwise great show) were the pranks. Oh look, a stapler in jello. Way to go Jim, cheap laughs, how about using your dry wit instead? And didn't Slater take apart Belding's car or something? He should have been suspended. (different show)
Scene:
Friend: "Hey Proctor! Prank war! (asshole sprays a bunch of easy cheese all over everything)
Me: I am calling the police
Sometimes I feel like I should "play along", but I cannot mask my seething anger. What is one little prank call you ask? Well, it could be blocking the line for someone trying to call to tell me a loved one is in the hospital. Hope you got your laughs! Please do not prank call me. I take the phone seriously.
In 2014, I gave some gift ideas. This year, let's combine the two. Here, in a guide to the holidays, are some more gift ideas.
______________________________________________________________________________
Gift buying can be tedious. Whether it is honing in on the perfect gift or buying for someone difficult, deciding what to buy can put a lot of strain on the holidays. Here is some help:
The Gift that Keeps on Giving
Want to reduce stress and add deliciousness to someone's life in the coming year? Pre-pay for them to have queso every time they go to their favorite Mexican restaurant in 2017. Its simple, hand the maitre d' a $100 bill, hold up a picture of the gift-getter, and say "this son of a bitch doesn't pay for queso the whole year!". Whoever gets the gift will be floored when queso comes out with the initial chips and salsa. No decisions to make, just a meal-turned-fiesta EVERY TIME they go.
Feliz Navidad!
Membership to a Colds Club
Some of my in-laws got me a three month membership to a beer club for my birthday and it was fantastic. Once a month, I received a brew shipment composed of a couple of selections from different out-of-state breweries. Sometimes knowing that quality cold ones were en route is all that got me through the month. Just kidding, but it was exciting.
There are some questions about whether you can ship alcohol in Kentucky. My thoughts? Don't ask. Maintain plausible deniability: if colds show up on your doorstep, thank the sender and drink them, no questions asked.
Christmas every month.
Weird sign I took a picture of in a store
Who would want this? Maybe someone on your list?
I do not know why someone would want to hang this up. Why the permanence? The message seems like something that shy youths text to one another. I hope it is not a blanket declaration to all readers, because that would be the epitome of desperation. Anyway, maybe you know someone who wants this sign. At least there is potential for a lewd joke.
Some exotic cheeses, a case of moderately-priced red wine, and a Killers album release date
This morning at 5:15 I rolled into the gym sleepy and groggy from last night's cold ones. I was nearing beginning my routine of listening to my headphones and wondering around aimlessly for a little while when I was approached by a YMCA employee, whom we will call "floor person". I had a few previous encounters with this floor person, whose job is basically to patrol the exercise area. Before, she had told me that I was not allowed to take my shoes off to deadlift (apparently she makes exceptions for people doing yoga, which is infuriating). As she approached, I looked down to see my shoed-feet and wondered what the hell she wanted this time.
"Eric, yesterday when you were dead-lifting, I got a couple of complaints about how loud it is when you drop the weights after you are done." Naturally, wanting to confront my dipshit accusers, I said "well, who was it that complained?" The floor person refused to tell me, to which I said that the complaint was noted but that I would not be changing anything about how I dead-lift next Tuesday or any Tuesday thereafter. The floor person, agitated, recommend that, if I cannot lower the weights quietly, I use less weight. Well, that's not an option, bro. Then she pointed to some guy dead-lifting for reps and said "see, he can do it." Now I was getting steamed, "that's 135, (floor person), that is NOT THE SAME AT ALL." Then she sniped "well, you need to either make less noise or use less weight". In an effort to control my outrage at being told by a gym employee not to make noise with weights AT A FUCKING GYM, I stepped onto a slow moving treadmill and assured the floor person that I would make the "slightest of efforts" to make less noise.
As I strolled along on the treadmill, I recalled the part of the exchange where the floor person told me that I wasn't the only member of the gym and that it is her job to make sure everyone is comfortable. Seething, I yanked the cord that you are supposed to yank if you are passing out on the treadmill and it came to a sudden stop. I stormed off to the front desk and asked the woman working there if she was the manager on duty. She informed me that she was in fact the branch Assistant Director, an admission that I am sure she immediately regretted.
I told her the gist of mine and the floor person's conversation. Then I proceeded to tell her that I did not believe that "comfort" of the members should be the top priority of a gym. I reminded her that we were at a gym and not a hotel. I asked her if this particular floor person frequently accosted other members despite them abiding by the rules of the gym or if I was being singled out. And finally I pointed out that there was not a sign prohibiting a loud lowering of weights. During this entire exchange, she nodded her head and said she agreed with me. Whether she did or whether she just wanted the maniac in front of her to leave her alone, we will never know. Fortunately, I reminded her many times that I was not "mad at her". Eventually I shut up and she told me she would pass along the information to the Director.
Later, in an effort to cheer myself up, I was listening to Lonely Island on the elliptical when I saw the Assistant Director accompanying a familiar face into the gym mat area. Apparently this guy and another guy had gotten into some type of verbal altercation and the familiar face went to grab a mediator. As I watched this guy's mouth move, it became apparent he was doing a lot of needless complaining, Suddenly I recalled that this asshole was doing some type of side bend on the back extension machine (it should be noted that despite this being an improper use of the machine, he was not cited by the floor person) just a few feet from where I was dead-lifting yesterday. It appeared I had unearthed one of my accusers. But how to play it?
After I finished my last "Level 7" "hill" on the elliptical machine, I decided to talk to the Assistant Director one more time. Before she could see me coming, I slipped in front of her and immediately began contrasting whatever happened between those two guys and my situation. While they were making complaints, I was responding to a complaint lodged against me. While they had obviously broken a posted rule barring verbal abuse, I had not broken any posted rule. Finally, while they had been instigating one another, I just wanted to put my headphones on, limit interactions, and go about my business.
In the end, I decided to appear to be the bigger man and closed my bitching with a plea for the status quo. I told the Assistant Director that I never wanted this. That, despite being impossible due to the inability to time travel, I wish mine and the floor person's conversation had never taken place. I told her that I wake up early to lift as a means to relieve stress from "a one-year-old, a three-year-old and over a hundred clients, of whom at least half are currently incarcerated." Most importantly, I told her that "I love this YMCA, from the sauna, to the childcare, to the readily available clean towels and I would never want to go anywhere else." However, I did remind her that this situation needed some type of resolution and that we would see what happens next Tuesday.
I am afraid my scan card will be deactivated tomorrow.
A couple of weeks ago, I hit my baptism so hard. Sis's bday was the day before, so it is safe to say I was in party mode all weekend. Baptism morning I was still feeling the effects of a late night (7:30), so I bonked out for an A.M. siesta before the big event. Next thing you know dad busts in with no chill whatsoever and tells me its time to go. Then he loses his cool when he realizes I filled up a record diaper. It was not my fault sis wanted Mexican for her bday. Naturally, I went wild on some refrieds and nachos. Sue me, pops.
Anyway, him and Nana scrambled to get me ready to meet up with moms and sis at church. Dad drove kind of fast on the way, which was fun at first but unsettling on the tummy. Once we got there, moms started asking pops why we were late. We were only one minute late so I said to mom, "what did you think they were gonna do, baptize somebody else?" I really clowned her.
Once the big moment arrived and we all went up front with Pastor Jane, the feels started hitting me so hard. We had my big church moment going, I was still kind of sleepy, and Pops wouldn't let me see the bulletin. I had to shed a few tears guys. Then, out of the blue, Pastor Jane, who is normally pretty chill, starts dousing my dome with H2O! I was not mentally in bath mode, so that really threw me off and the tears kept flowing. After awhile Pastor J took me on a tour of the big church room and I got to meet my new church fam. Then I got treats.
Guy's Baptism by Crosby
My birthday weekend culminated with Guy's baptism, which teetered on being an absolute disaster. While Mom and I managed to get to Sunday school at 9:45, Dad and Guy were nowhere to be found at 11:00: the starting time for Guy's baptism. Then, at what was probably about 11:05, but felt like 11:15 due to embarrassment, Dad comes storming in like a lunatic with a sock-less Guy. Dad seemed defeated and appeared to be out-of-breath. Although he had simply been tasked with dressing a child and driving them to a location ten minutes away, he behaved as if he had just fled a war-torn country. Thankfully, mom and I were there to calm the chaos.
Cool pose, Dad.
When it came time for the ceremony, Guy became upset, which is understandable considering he likes to be on time to major life events and his feet were probably cold. For some baffling reason Dad would not let him look at his own baptism bulletin, which upset him more. Guy cried and cried as he tried to get his bulletin, and in a monumental display of weakness, Dad managed to let Guy knock the bulletin out his hand three times. I did my best to get Guy's attention and cheer him up a little bit. For my efforts, I got a "watch out, honey" from Dad. Watch out? For what? Fortunately, me, Mom, and Pastor Jane got Guy away from him and shored up a successful baptism. Afterwards, all Dad could talk about was what he was going to order at the celebratory lunch. Yeah, you earned that.
The Heart classic "All I Wanna Do Is Make Love To You" is both powerful and beautiful. But it is also one of the most fucked up songs ever written.
If unfamiliar, please check this out
As a courtesy to my readers, I will walk you through the lyrics of the song in order to show you just how truly messed up the story really is. (The lyrics are in bold and my comments are in italics).
It was a rainy night when he came into sight Standing by the road, no umbrella, no coat So I pulled up along side and I offered him a ride
A woman, apparently cruising for loose men, happened upon a woefully under-dressed stranger getting rained on. Seeming to take pity on him, she creeps to a stop and volunteers to drive him. But what are her true motives? (foreshadowing) He accepted with a smile so we drove for a while
Possibly lacking verbal skills, the man proves he knows as little about the dangers of accepting rides from strangers as he does about dressing for inclement weather by accepting the narrator's proposition with a smile. The two drive aimlessly for reasons unknown.
I didn't ask him his name, this lonely boy in the rain
Preferring to think of her passenger as possibly-under-aged and wet, she declines to ask his name.
Fate tell me it's right, is this love at first sight
Wait, what? The aimless, silent driving has apparently created quite a spark between the two. She asks fate (which does not make any sense when you think about it) if the two of them are now in love. It is unknown what, if anything, fate answers.
Please don't make it wrong, just stay for the night
This does not make any sense at all, but it is clear she wants him to spend the night.
All I want to do is make love to you Say you will you want me too All I want to do is make love to you I've got lovin' arms to hold on to
In the hopes that he will accept, the narrator proposes that they have sex. As part of her selling of the idea, she emphasizes her arms and that them having sex is her singular focus.
So we found this hotel, it was a place I knew well
For some reason they have to locate a hotel that she knows the exact location of. She has spent a lot of time there. This is something of a plot-hole, which will be explained later.
We made magic that night. Oh, he did everything right He brought the woman out of me, so many times, easily
Apparently the hapless nitwit is a very capable lover.
And in the morning when he woke all I left him was a note I told him I am the flower you are the seed We walked in the garden we planted a tree
She slipped out before he awoke and she left him a note with an extremly confusing analogy. Don't try to find me, please don't you dare Just live in my memory, you'll always be there
She asks him not to try and locate her, but demands that he stay in her memory. Both requests are odd. If he wants to find her, it will not be hard, considering that she frequents the hotel they just spent the night in. And the second line sounds like something from Inception.
All I want to do is make love to you One night of love was all we knew All want to do is make love to you I've got lovin' arms to hold on to
Oh, oooh, we made love Love like strangers All night long We made love
The primary theme is really driven home.
Then it happened one day, we came round the same way You can imagine his surprise when he saw his own eyes
They run into one another and she has birthed his child. He is shocked. I said please, please understand I'm in love with another man And what he couldn't give me was the one little thing that you can
She makes one perfectly reasonable request: that he accept that she sought him out, used him for his sperm, had his child without telling him or ever intending to tell him, and that she was in love with an impotent man, and not him, the entire time.
STILL UNANSWERED: So if she was in a relationship the whole time, why did she know the hotel so well? Did she repeat this same scenario over and over until pregnant? And if so, why did she think her and the lonely boy in the rain were fated to be with one another?
All I want to do is make love to you One night of love was all we knew All I want to do is make love to you Come on, say you will, you want me too
All I want to do is make love to you One night of love was all we knew All I want to do is make love to you Say you will, you want me too
