Saturday, June 30, 2007
I talked with some other friends about it while we ate lunch.
Me: I think we should go. He's a pretty cool guy, and it could be fun. Plus, he said he had three girls flying in from Kansas City who wanted to hang out.
Friend 1: Who is this guy that he has three girls flying into town?
Me: I guess they're just friends of his.
Friend 1: But what's the catch? Is he some kind of pimp?
Me: Well, the girls are all pre-op trannies.
Friend 2: But what's the catch?
If that's not enough of a catch, then I don't know what to tell you. Have fun I guess.
Anyway, we went to our usual Friday night hang out, but since one of my friends had sand in his vagina and left early, my other friend and I decided we'd go to the Hard Rock. When we got to the pool, it was packed. And by packed, I mean packed with very attractive girls. Unfortunately for my friends, they started charging for drinks as soon as we got there. Since that was apparently the only reason my former student was there, he left shortly thereafter. My other friend and I stuck around just to enjoy the scenery (it felt like we were in an episode of Entourage), but after a while even that started to get old.
Me: I don't know how excited I am to stick around for the concert.
Friend: Who's playing?
Me: I don't know. I think [Former Student] told me, but I don't remember.
Friend: But there are hot chicks everywhere. I mean, even the not-so-hot-chicks are hot.
Me: Good point. We should stay.
It was only another ten minutes when the band took the stage and started playing. We were off to the side of the stage but fairly close (by that I mean that if it were a normal concert we would have been backstage watching from behind the side curtains). I didn't recognize their first song, but it tickled my memory just a little bit.
Me: You know, these guys kind of sound like She Wants Revenge. Especially that guy's voice.
Friend: You're right. They kind of do.
At the end of the first song they introduced themselves: "We're She Wants Revenge."
I love it when I'm right.
I'm not a huge fan of the band, but I've heard the songs of theirs that get airtime (I normally hate listening to the radio, but have to listen to either that or silence when I'm working in the lab. I really need to get an ipod). It turned out that I've actually heard a lot more of their stuff than I thought I had. It's just that in my mind every time I heard them on the radio it was the same song. That turns out not to be the case. It's just that all of their songs kind of sound the same to me (probably the reason why I'm not a huge fan). Nonetheless, it was a free concert and not a bad way to spend the evening. The crowd kind of sucked, but that's to be expected of Vegas crowds in general. Let alone Vegas crowds that are just there for free alcohol and don't even know who's playing.
I'm glad I went, because I did get to see a ton of hot girls, and it was a free concert that ended up being ok, and because it was something a little different than normal. I've said it before, but I'll say it again. Not every Friday night has to end with us snortin' crank and bangin' hos.
Oh, and by the way:
Friday, June 29, 2007
Here are some of my favorites:
- When God made me he was just showing off.
- I can't. I'm Mormon.
- Jesus would slap the shit out of you.
- I was an atheist until I realized I am God.
- Jesus loves me, but only for my money.
- Polygamy: Not just for the Mormons anymore.
- What would Bacchus do?
- Jesus loves you, but I think you're a douchebag.
- Nuke a gay whale for Jesus.
The last one sounds like something our president would wear while he's clearing brush down on the ranch.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Salesman: So, do you have a wife?
Me: I have an ex-wife.
Salesman: So she's not going to be driving around with you?
Me: No. Don't get me wrong, we're still friends, but she's not going to be driving my car.
Salesman: I have an ex-wife too. She cheated on my with my best friend.
My Friend: So you aren't still friends then?
Salesman: I'm Arab. We kill people.
Later . . .
Salesman: So how much are you looking to finance?
Me: Well, I'm debating how much I want to put down, but I have enough that I could put down a pretty sizeable amount.
Salesman: Actually, it's better to have a low down payment because banks don't want to fund small loans. So, if you wanted to put $5000 down, you should just put $2500 down instead and put the other $2500 into a savings account. Then when you make your monthly payment, you just pull half of it from that savings account and it's like your payment is cut in half.
Seriously, do people buy into this type of bullshit?
Dealership 2 (over the phone)
Me: Hi. I was calling about a car you have advertised . . . I wanted to know how many miles it has so I can decide if I want to come in and test drive it.
Salesman: Well, that car has 100+ thousand miles on it. (without really answering my question, and then without waiting for my response) I can tell by your voice that's too high for you. Have you thought about maybe getting into a PT Cruiser?
Me: No. I don't really like those.
Salesman: Alright, alright. Would you be interested in a Sebring instead? Do you like those?
Me: I can't really say that I've seen much of those, but that's ok.
Salesman: Alright, well I'm just trying to get a feel for what you're looking for.
What I wanted to say: Here's a hint: Why don't you just fucking ask me what I'm looking for in a car? That might be a good way to "get a feel for what I'm looking for."
What I did say: It would probably just be easier if I came out there and took a look around to see if you have anything I'd be interested in.
What I learned: Car salesmen don't really give a shit what you're looking for, often times they're just out to push a certain vehicle onto somebody. I know, I know, big surprise. I imagine their after work conversations go something like this:
Salesman 1: So, I heard you sold another PT Cruiser today.
Salesman 2: Yeah. It's crazy. All I had to do was mention it and the guy bought one. It's like people don't even realize they're giant pieces of shit.
Salesman 1: I know. I kind of feel bad selling them to people. Well, I mean, I'd feel bad if I actually had a soul.
Salesman 2: Bwahahahahaha. A car salesman with a soul. That's a good one.
Finance Manager: You probably hear this all the time, but you know who you look like, right?
Me: *Nodding my head yes*
Finance Manager: James Spader, in that movie Less Than Zero.
Wha, wha, whaaaaaat!? I have another doppelganger? I was fully expecting to hear Bill Clinton. Now I'm going to have to watch that movie just to see what he was talking about.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Sorry about there not being any sound. Apparently I am retarded when it comes to running my camera. Just pretend that you can hear some 80's music playing in the background. Any 80's music will do.
I knew there was going to be trouble when I saw my four year old who was happily standing by the side of the pool shooting his sister with a water gun throw the gun, grab his butt with one hand, and take off running for the house only to have trouble opening the door and then suddenly stop and turn around with a look of shame in his eye. I walked over and asked him if he'd pooped in his swimming suit, and he sheepishly said that he had. To steal a phrase from CW, it was the worst Play-Doh fun factory ever.
I took him in the bathroom, and deftly maneuvered the suit off his body without spilling any diarrhea on my hands or the floor. His legs and the toilet seat weren't so lucky. He looked down and pointed out the obvious.
Him: Dad, there's poop right there.
Me: Yes there is.
Him: That's disgusting.
Me: Yes it is.
Him: Dad, there's some poop on my penis.
Me: Here. You have to wipe that off with this toilet paper.
Him: Ok. **wiping**That's disgusting.
Me: Tell me about it.
I put him in the bath, put his swimming trunks in the washer, and then had him wear my t-shirt until he could wear his clothes again. He was very embarrassed about it, and acted self conscious about being the only person there who was wearing a t-shirt that went all the way to their ankles with absolutely nothing on underneath. I tried to get him to feel less ashamed by telling him that it could happen to anybody, but he didn't really start acting like his usual self until he got his swimming trunks back out of the wash.
I wonder if it would have helped if I'd have told him this story about one of the most embarrassing moments of my life:
I was in second grade when a similar bout of peristalsis hit my eight year old colon. I booked it for the boys bathroom, but when I got to the door that entered it from the playground, it was stuck. I pulled and pulled, but the door wouldn't open. Probably because of the fat kid that was on the other side that thought it would be funny to hold the door shut so nobody could get in. Well, it worked. I didn't make it, and instead dumped a load of the runny stuff in my pants. I went into one of the stalls to try and clean it up, to no avail. It was all over the place.
Now seems like a good time to talk about how traumatic it was to go to the bathroom at my elementary school anyway. I don't know how it is today, but I doubt it was as bad as my school was then. Anytime anyone was using one of the bathroom stalls, there would always be kids who would climb up and look over to see who was in there. Then they would sit there and yell to people in the hall about how so-and-so was pooping. I'm hoping this weird behavior was unique to my school (and maybe some in Germany - they obviously get into the whole scheizer thing over there sometime). I still don't like to go into stalls in public restrooms, and I'm sure it's partly due this experience.
Anyway, this time was no different. As I sat there trying to wipe diarrhea off my clothes, several of my classmates peered down at me from above while chanting pooh-pants over and over again. Then my teacher, who was a woman, came into the boys bathroom to see what all the fuss was about. Obviously this was a very big deal to 8 year old Native Minnow, but she did go to the trouble of cleaning me up and calling my mom to come get me, and for that I should be grateful.
Upon my return to school I was subjected to being called Pooh-Pants on the playground, but that died off after a few days. At least it did with most of the kids. There was one kid who was a year older than me who continued to call me that every single time he saw me for the next few years (basically until he moved on to seventh grade). I remember one day when I had to wear my cub scout uniform to school for some reason, and I thought about what a relief it would be when that kid didn't recognize me because I was in uniform. If he didn't recognize me he wouldn't call me Pooh-Pants.
I was crushed when I turned a corner at recess and that was the first thing I heard him call out. How could this be? How could he recognize me? I was wearing a cub scout uniform for crying out loud. How could he not respect the uniform? Perhaps even worse than that was the time he brought it up during my sophomore year of high school. In front of one of the cutest girls in the senior class. Oh how I hated that guy! Talk about dragging a joke out for way too long.
I must be over it by now though, or I wouldn't be relating this story online to be seen by anybody who happens to come along.
Monday, June 25, 2007
Anyway, on one of the days they were here I started singing a song while I was fixing lunch for some reason.
Sha la la la la la
My oh my
Look at the boy too shy
Ain't gonna kiss the girl
Sha la la la la la
Ain't that sad
Ain't it a shame, too bad
He's gonna miss the girl
Roommate's Son: Why are you singing a song from the Little Mermaid? It's a little girl movie.
Me: It's an awesome movie.
11 year old son: Maybe he just likes to watch mermaids. It's ok Dad. There's no shame in that.
No shame indeed.
Saturday, June 23, 2007
So, after weighing my options, I decided to start looking around for another vehicle. I simply can't afford to sink a couple thousand dollars into a car that isn't worth that much. Especially when there's a very real possibility that something else would go wrong shortly thereafter. Even though I dreaded the thought of having to deal with all the weasely used car salesmen in Vegas, I figured it was the best option. I told you about the slimeball sales manager that my friend and I talked to the other day before the BRMC concert (seriously, if I were to write a movie script where one of the characters was a used car salesmen/drug dealer, I would want the casting director to find this guy and offer him the part). I was afraid that they would all be like that.
Fortunately for me, my friend knows a guy who works for a car dealership, so he arranged for me to go out and see him. I have to say, that's definitely the way to shop for a car. My friend told me that the salesman was a great guy and that I wouldn't have to worry about him trying to screw me over. So I called the guy and he told me to come out and see if there was anything on the lot that I liked, and that if there was, he could get me a deal for $300 over invoice. I figured it was worth a shot, so I borrowed my roommate's car and went out there. Honestly, it felt a little weird pulling up to a car dealership to shop for a used car in a $30,000 vehicle that's only about a year old, but that's just how I roll.
I met my friend's friend, told him what I was looking for, and he showed me several vehicles that would suit my needs. After a couple of test drives, I settled on one (a 2006 Nissan Sentra with 16,500 miles), and signed off on all the paperwork that night. I just might be the worst car shopper in the history of car shoppers, because I feel like I rushed into things. Plus, the vehicle I got was a couple thousand more than I was looking to spend, but it should also be a very reliable car that maintains its value. I should be able to drive it for a long time.
Earlier in the day I'd told my mechanic to fix the bare minimum on my car, so that I could drive it to a car dealership and use it as a trade-in. I knew I wasn't going to get anything for it if I couldn't even get it to the dealership under its own power. They'd called me earlier to tell me it was ready, but I hadn't picked it up yet, so I couldn't take my new car home until the next day (I could have, but that would have required two of the employees to follow me home, then one of them would have had to drive me back the following day when I dropped off my trade. I told them it would be less hassle for everyone for me to just pick it up then, and that I could make it that long without any severe emotional stress).
Yesterday I drove my old car out there. I have to admit, it was one of the more stressful drives of my life. There was still a rattle coming from somewhere in the engine and I knew I had to make it all the way across town (about a 30 minute drive) without it breaking down on me in order for them to take it off my hands. I was also afraid that they'd start it up, hear the rattle in the motor and say they couldn't give me the agreed amount for it, but everything went fine, and I got my new car.
I'm currently suffering from a great deal of buyer's remorse. While it was a great deal, and my payments are exactly where I wanted them to be, I'm nervous about how I'll be able to afford the increase in insurance along with that. The better gas mileage will help with that (~8 mpg better than my old car), but it won't cover all of it. Now seems like as good a time as any to really start marketing the tweaker-on-the-go meth kit (described here and pictured here). Also, I'm once again accepting applications from potential sugar mamas.
Friday, June 22, 2007
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Monday, June 18, 2007
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Friend: You should apologize to her. With flowers. And candy. And oral sex.
Me: I should tell her that, she'd think it was funny.
Friend: You're right, she would.
A few minutes later she went back to the table she'd been coming from before, so I turned around to see if I could catch her. Instead she'd gone the other way back to the kitchen.
Me (as I turned back to face my friend): Oh, I thought she was coming.
Friend: Not without the oral sex. Or maybe she would without the oral sex. I don't know how good you be.
Me: Nor will you ever.
Friend: I don't want to.
Me: Good. But if you did want to I guess you could always ask your mom.
Friend: She said you suck.
She's such a liar!
Friday, June 15, 2007
Second, why is Shrek smiling? You'd think that Donkey's hooves pulling on your genitalia would hurt, not feel good. It only makes sense if Shrek's a masochist.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
There are tough guys, like Doc Holliday, who simply go out saying, "This is funny." However, I'm not particularly tough, nor am I very brave, so I can't follow along in the footsteps of Doc, or any of these other guys (those who were involved in revolutions usually have the best ones).
Nathan Hale: "I only regret that I have but one life to give for my country"
Charles Darwin: "I am not the least afraid to die."
Karl Marx: "Go on, get out! Last words are for fools who haven't said enough!"
Che Guevara*: "I know you have come to kill me. Shoot, coward. You are only going to kill a man."
The reason why it's so important for me to figure this out now is because when this type of thing is left until the last possible second, people end up saying things like Pancho Villa did:
"Don't let it end like this. Tell them I said something."
Now, I'll never be as famous as any of these people, but I'd still like to go out with something cool. After much deliberation, and depending on the situation, I'd like my last sentence to be one of the following:
"See you in Hell!"
"Oh my, that feels good."
"The treasure is buried in the . . ."
* My favorite by far. Too bad Che said it first.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
For those of you who aren't already aware of this, Bill Clinton is my doppelganger. People have told me that ever since he ran for president the first time, but they're doing it more frequently now. The other night I must have really looked like him because people came up to me thrice to let me know. THRICE!!!*
I'm going to have to start responding with, "I did not have sex with that woman!"
* I know I've used this before, and I'll probably use it again. Thrice is a good word.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Now that you've had some time to study, I'm going to give you one of the multiple choice questions I gave my students last week.
Q. All the parts of a chloroplast are
a. the outer membrane, inner membrane, stroma, thylakoid and grana.
b. the outer membrane, inner membrane, chloroplastal matrix, thylakoid.
c. the thylakoid, grana, cristae, outer and inner membranes.
d. the stroma thylakoid and grana.
e. your mom.
Including choice 'e' probably wasn't the most professional thing I've ever done, but oh well. Take that The Man!
Monday, June 11, 2007
The only thing that warms my heart when I look at this picture is the thought of of lighting an oil soaked rag and tossing it into the box.
What? Fire's warm.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Me: Good. French fries that are actually close to me.
Friend 1: You could have had more of mine.
Me: I know, but in order to do that I'd have to stand up and reach clear across the table.
Friend 1: Was that too much effort to put forth?
And you all thought I was only lazy when it comes to microwaving things. I won't even get into the fact that I'd have also needed to dip the thing in catsup once I did all that standing and reaching. Just the thought of that is wearing me out.
Saturday, June 09, 2007
Normally I tend to be a little wary of going to movies like this one when they've first opened since they're the ones that tend to draw the teenage crowd. Since groups of teenagers tend to just sit and giggle the entire time they're in a theater, I was certain that I was going to have to do my best Strong Bad impersonation if the audience got too boisterous by turning around and saying, "This is my fist. You might recognize it from such features as the amazingly true story of your face in five seconds." Instead, I was pleased to find the theater fairly empty so I'll save the threats until next time.
While I enjoyed the comic aspect of the movie, there were also parts that reminded me of the times when I was privileged enough to get to deal with a hormonal pregnant woman. That's something I hope to never experience again. I think that it's good to be reminded of these things from time to time so that I remember that women are nothing but trouble and that it's best to just steer clear of them altogether.
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Him: That's tough. It's always hard to know what a girl's intentions are. She could be into you, or she could just be being nice.
Me: That's what I thought. I know I could just ask her. The truth is, I'd be ok with just being friends, but I'd also be ok with being more.
Him: I can understand that.
Me: I just don't want to make a move and end up freaking her out so that she doesn't even want to be friends. You know?
Me: So what would you do?
Him: I'd probably just put it in her butt.
That would certainly be one way to find out.
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Me: I almost went to it on Saturday night, but then [Friend] called. She and her boyfriend wanted to come over and catch up on this season's episodes of Entourage. Originally we were going to do that sometime Sunday, but when I talked to her I checked On Demand and saw that it was going to take a while for her to catch up so she wanted to break it up. Anyway, they came over, but when I went back to On Demand it wasn't working. It said there was a technical difficulty and that I needed to call the cable provider so then I had to look all over the place to find a number for Cox.
Friend: Really? I'd think you'd already have a number for cocks on speed dial.
Me: Sometimes I make it too easy for you, don't I?
Friend: You really do.
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
Monday, June 04, 2007
Oh the night here it comes again
It's on with the jeans the jacket and the shirt
How'd I end up feeling so bad
For such a little girl
I hold you close in the back of my mind
Feels so good but damn it makes me hurt
I'm too scared to know how I feel about you now
La Cienega just smiled, "See you around"
And I hold you close in the back of my mind
Raise my glass 'cause either way I'm dead
Neither of you really help me to sleep anymore
One breaks my body and the other breaks my soul
La Cienega just smiles and waves goodbye
Oh the night here it comes again
It's off with the jeans the jacket and the shirt
How'd I end up feeling so bad
For such a little girl
And I hold you close in the back of my mind
Feels so good but damn it makes me hurt
I'm too scared to know how I feel about you now
How I feel about you now
La Cienega just smiles and says "I'll see you around"
I bought the CD (Ryan Adams - Gold) as I was going through my divorce, so I was in a pretty fragile emotional state. This song would make me lose it every time I played it. At least if I was alone. It still brings up some pretty strong emotions from time to time, and that's the sign of a great song. At least in my opinion. I don't know that this clip really does the song justice, but it's the best one I could find on YouTube. I hope you enjoy it.
Saturday, June 02, 2007
Friday, June 01, 2007
As always, misspellings, bad grammar, etc. come from the students, not from me. Without further ado:
Comments about the lab
What was your favorite lab exercise? Why?
- Cutting shit up! I love disection.
- The pig. You get to cut up a pig need I say more?
Which lab experience was most informative and educational for you?
-Pigs win again!
What was your least favorite lab exercise? Why?
- Anything on the computer SUX!
- Anything to do with plants. It was just an insufferable bore.
- Invertebrate anatomy - too many things to remember on a lame subject.
What was the major strength of the lab?
- Semilive/live specimens
- You learn cool stuff.
- Hard-on learning!!!
- <3 [Native Minnow] <3
Comments about the lab instructor
In general, how would you rate your lab instructor as a teacher?
- Woo! Very helpful and explained things mucho well.
How would you assess your lab instructor's ability in making things understandable, and their willingness to help?
- Check and check - maybe get an aka Keil Holliday =P
What were his/her strong points?
- Best TA Ever!
How could he/she improve?
- I don't think [Minnow] can improve - he is perfect.
- Don't do the SpongeBob laugh unless you mean it.
- Pierce other ear too.
- Bring in more candy.
- He could improve by working out more.
- Smile more =D, and bring coffee in the morning.
- Bring breakfast.
- A boombox in the lab with a CD to make a [lab] soundtrack.
- Be less douche-y. Just kidding, outstanding guy that [Minnow].