via Neatorama
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Why Wake Up?....
....When your dreaming and:
A. youre at a sweet swimming pool
B. the pool is loaded with attractive females
C. one of which singles you out and comes over for conversation
1. when you find out shes receiving electroshock therapy next door
2. she has massive stainless rods pierced in her back
D. theres a swim up McDonalds (to make you barf in the pool)
I need some popcorn.....
A. youre at a sweet swimming pool
B. the pool is loaded with attractive females
C. one of which singles you out and comes over for conversation
1. when you find out shes receiving electroshock therapy next door
2. she has massive stainless rods pierced in her back
D. theres a swim up McDonalds (to make you barf in the pool)
I need some popcorn.....
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Joke....
Three men stand before St. Peter awaiting admission into Heaven. However, St. Peter has been informed that Heaven will only admit 33% of applicants today. The admissions standard: Who died the worst death? So, St. Peter takes each of the three men aside in turn and asks them about how they died.
First man: "I'd been suspecting for a long time that my wife was cheating on me. I decided to come home early from work one afternoon and check to see if I could catch her in the act. When I got back to my apartment, I heard the water running. My wife was in the shower. I looked everywhere for the guy, but couldn't find anyone or any trace that he had been there. The last place I looked was out on the balcony.
I found the bastard hanging from the edge, trying to get back in! So I started jumping up and down on his hands, and he yelled, but he didn't fall. So I ran inside and got a hammer, and crushed his fingers with it until he fell twenty-five floors screaming in agony. But the fall didn't kill the asshole. He landed in some bushes! So I dragged the refrigerator from the kitchen (it weighed about a ton), pulled it to the balcony, and hurled it over the edge. It landed right on the guy and killed him. But then I felt so horrible about what I had done, I went back into the bedroom and shot myself."
St. Peter nodded slowly as the man recounted the story. Then, telling the first man to wait, he took the second aside.
Second man: "I lived on the twenty-seventh floor of this apartment building. I had just purchased this book on morning exercises and was practicing them on my balcony, enjoying the sunshine, when I lost my balance and fell off the edge. Luckily, I only fell about two floors before grabbing another balcony and holding on for dear life. I was trying to pull myself up when this guy came running onto what must have been his balcony and started jumping up and down on my hands. I screamed in pain, but he seemed really irate. When he finally stopped, I tried to pull myself up again, but he came out with a hammer and smashed my fingers to a pulp! I fell, and I thought I was dead, but I landed in some bushes. I couldn't believe my second stroke of luck, but it didn't last. The last thing I saw was this enormous refrigerator falling from the building down on top of me and crushing me."
St. Peter comforted the man, who seemed to have several broken bones. Then he told him to wait, and turned to the third man.
Third man: "Picture this. You're hiding, naked, in a refrigerator..."
First man: "I'd been suspecting for a long time that my wife was cheating on me. I decided to come home early from work one afternoon and check to see if I could catch her in the act. When I got back to my apartment, I heard the water running. My wife was in the shower. I looked everywhere for the guy, but couldn't find anyone or any trace that he had been there. The last place I looked was out on the balcony.
I found the bastard hanging from the edge, trying to get back in! So I started jumping up and down on his hands, and he yelled, but he didn't fall. So I ran inside and got a hammer, and crushed his fingers with it until he fell twenty-five floors screaming in agony. But the fall didn't kill the asshole. He landed in some bushes! So I dragged the refrigerator from the kitchen (it weighed about a ton), pulled it to the balcony, and hurled it over the edge. It landed right on the guy and killed him. But then I felt so horrible about what I had done, I went back into the bedroom and shot myself."
St. Peter nodded slowly as the man recounted the story. Then, telling the first man to wait, he took the second aside.
Second man: "I lived on the twenty-seventh floor of this apartment building. I had just purchased this book on morning exercises and was practicing them on my balcony, enjoying the sunshine, when I lost my balance and fell off the edge. Luckily, I only fell about two floors before grabbing another balcony and holding on for dear life. I was trying to pull myself up when this guy came running onto what must have been his balcony and started jumping up and down on my hands. I screamed in pain, but he seemed really irate. When he finally stopped, I tried to pull myself up again, but he came out with a hammer and smashed my fingers to a pulp! I fell, and I thought I was dead, but I landed in some bushes. I couldn't believe my second stroke of luck, but it didn't last. The last thing I saw was this enormous refrigerator falling from the building down on top of me and crushing me."
St. Peter comforted the man, who seemed to have several broken bones. Then he told him to wait, and turned to the third man.
Third man: "Picture this. You're hiding, naked, in a refrigerator..."
Monday, March 23, 2009
Updates....
Im sick of not getting jobs. Dream jobs.
Im also sick from travelling. Airplane reciculators are dumb.
Funny thing is this happened on the way to DC to help Dr. Lynn move back into the USA.
Story time:
Theres more women in DC than men, and it seems most are reasonably cool and attractive. 2 things that are definitely ok for a specific city to have. Santa Fe on teh other hand is full of worn out old wrinkly, spiritually defunct lesbians. A night at the bar here is always lacking. Tangent. After a great night of hanging out with Tom and Cillian, at this ultra dive little bar in Mt. Pleasant, where everybody had to go home bc theys gots jobs, and the neighboring building was a blackened burnt stone shell from a not too recent structure fire, my walk home began (5 miles approx). About half way in the night of DC where theres no traffic and barely any lights and rumors of getting robbed and shived, I realise I have to pee. Bad. I stop and ask a cop car directions and they confirm my travel plans are indeed correct. A couple more blocks and Im starting to scan the area for a spot to handle the drainage in utmost secrecy and security. But down the street I spy what appears to be a bar, and the only building with any light on in the entire trip home, so I venture forth.
This happy little place is all lit up with a joyous crowd inside, so I sneak in and take care of business and saddle up at the bar to show my gratitude. After a couple beers and some interesting conversation, I feel the need to glance around and find out the name of this bar, to shed some light on the conversational topics at hand. The same feel that I felt with Dustin in Amsterdam, that he soooo obviously felt hours before it was apparent to me. With my glance towards the window all was confirmed....this was a gay bar. Strangely I was comforted with feelings of safety, because I know that everyone already knows that Im the only straight guy here.
Some more beer and conversations and laughing and then there came a point of definition. Defined by two characters in different chats. One, a nice gay guy, telling me Im cute, asks if I "party"? I respond yes and no and what does that mean? He leaves. Then the beautiful black lady I was chatting with asks the same. I respond the same. Then she asks me if Im a cop. WTF? Explaining later that Im invited over for some blow after teh bar. Clearly not my cup of tea, I decline, as I forgot the city of DC has many a friend in coke.
I make it home via a ride from a nice gay man, and almost sleep on the floor.
The next day was ikea furniture assembly day...ugh
Im also sick from travelling. Airplane reciculators are dumb.
Funny thing is this happened on the way to DC to help Dr. Lynn move back into the USA.
Story time:
Theres more women in DC than men, and it seems most are reasonably cool and attractive. 2 things that are definitely ok for a specific city to have. Santa Fe on teh other hand is full of worn out old wrinkly, spiritually defunct lesbians. A night at the bar here is always lacking. Tangent. After a great night of hanging out with Tom and Cillian, at this ultra dive little bar in Mt. Pleasant, where everybody had to go home bc theys gots jobs, and the neighboring building was a blackened burnt stone shell from a not too recent structure fire, my walk home began (5 miles approx). About half way in the night of DC where theres no traffic and barely any lights and rumors of getting robbed and shived, I realise I have to pee. Bad. I stop and ask a cop car directions and they confirm my travel plans are indeed correct. A couple more blocks and Im starting to scan the area for a spot to handle the drainage in utmost secrecy and security. But down the street I spy what appears to be a bar, and the only building with any light on in the entire trip home, so I venture forth.
This happy little place is all lit up with a joyous crowd inside, so I sneak in and take care of business and saddle up at the bar to show my gratitude. After a couple beers and some interesting conversation, I feel the need to glance around and find out the name of this bar, to shed some light on the conversational topics at hand. The same feel that I felt with Dustin in Amsterdam, that he soooo obviously felt hours before it was apparent to me. With my glance towards the window all was confirmed....this was a gay bar. Strangely I was comforted with feelings of safety, because I know that everyone already knows that Im the only straight guy here.
Some more beer and conversations and laughing and then there came a point of definition. Defined by two characters in different chats. One, a nice gay guy, telling me Im cute, asks if I "party"? I respond yes and no and what does that mean? He leaves. Then the beautiful black lady I was chatting with asks the same. I respond the same. Then she asks me if Im a cop. WTF? Explaining later that Im invited over for some blow after teh bar. Clearly not my cup of tea, I decline, as I forgot the city of DC has many a friend in coke.
I make it home via a ride from a nice gay man, and almost sleep on the floor.
The next day was ikea furniture assembly day...ugh
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Fish Bars....
Two things happened this week outside of getting rejected for over 25 jobs that I was over qualified for, shaving, and dog madness. Those would be eating an entire box of fish sticks....
....feeling sick for 12 hours, and putting the new handlebars on the Klein that Damon gave me.
So now we got a super trick race bike with cruiser bars. The comf-master.
....feeling sick for 12 hours, and putting the new handlebars on the Klein that Damon gave me.
So now we got a super trick race bike with cruiser bars. The comf-master.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Buck-futter....
Theres this place across the river from Whiterock that has some of the most amazing riding. Reminds me of Pipestone actually, just with less big trees and more medium junipers. So I took to the task of mapping it and heres what I got so far.... the white line being the scale of 5 miles:
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