Tuesday, March 31, 2009

No plus no equals no

I twittered about this about two weeks ago, but figure I have time to tell the whole story now.

A couple of Fridays ago I went to the bar with my friends. I was sitting at a table with them when a girl I know walked by. She saw me sitting at the table, and came over to say hi. She talked for a few minutes, but I was trapped against the wall, and she was talking to me across the whole table, so I told her I'd go outside and sit with her in a little while so that the conversation wouldn't be so awkward.

Only one of my friends at the table had ever met this girl before, so as soon as she walked away they all started telling me to go outside right then and talk to her.

I told them that I would go out there, but not right then. I waited about an hour, then went outside to talk to her after I'd already had to get up and use the restroom. When I got outside I looked around and couldn't see her anywhere. Cursing myself for waiting so long, I called her and left a message saying that I was sorry I had missed her if she'd already left, and if she hadn't she should text me to let me know where she was and I'd come back out. Then I went and sat back down with my friends.

Friend 1: That was fast.
Me: She wasn't out there.

Just then, she and one of her friends walked out of the bathroom and went back outside.

Friend 1: There she is right there. Go out there and talk to her right now.
Me: No. I just left her a message. If she texts me, then I'll go out.
Friend 2: What is wrong with you? That girl is really cute. Go out there.
Friend 1 (to Friend 2): He could have that girl if he wanted her. She seeks him out every time she's here.
Me: That's a bit of an exaggeration.
Friend 2: Go out there.
Me: If I go out right now I just look desperate.
Friend 1: You are desperate. You aren't in a position where you should be playing hard to get.
Me: I'm only going if she texts me.
Friends 1 & 2: You're an idiot.
Me: Maybe.

A few minutes later she texted me: I was in the bathroom.

Me: See? Now I can go out there.

So, I went outside and sat with her and her friends for a while.

Now, a little back story here is necessary. The first night I met this girl was at the same bar. That night she told me about how the bar owner (who is extremely creepy) kept asking her out. He does that with a lot of girls that come to the bar, but he seems to be very persistent with her. He gives her and her friends free drinks all the time, and sometimes he'll corner her in the hallway that leads to the bathroom to get some one on one conversation and/or to ask her to go out with him. It's creepy, but she tolerates it. Probably so she can keep getting free drinks.

Of course, I take every chance I get to make fun of her about this guy's apparent obsession with her. I'll periodically send her emails or texts that say "[Bar Owner] misses you." It never gets old. At least not from my perspective. (You may have noticed that about me and my stupid jokes.) So, when I first sat down I asked if he'd hit on her yet that night. She said he had. Of course he had.

After sitting there for a while, she and her friends decided that they wanted to do a round of shots. She joked about how she was going to find the bar owner and flash her boobs to him to see if she could get some shots for free. I said that if she did that it would be the highlight of his life, and there'd be no way he could say no.

Her: Of course he wouldn't be able to say no. Nobody has ever been able to say no to these boobs.

I tried to get our server to bring the bar owner out, but she wouldn't, so the plan never came into fruition. At least not while I was there. After sitting there for probably too long, I told her that I needed to go back inside because I felt like I'd abandoned my friends. I also needed to leave soon, and had to settle up on my part of the bill.

Her: You're leaving? You're not even going to stick around long enough to see my boobs?
Me: I'm sure they're fabulous, but I have to go.
Her: [pouting]
Me: Do you see this? [motioning to my body with my hands] This is me saying "No!" to your boobs.
Her: That's the first time that's ever happened.
Me: [Waving as I walk away].

It may be time to rethink my priorities in life.

Monday, March 30, 2009

Hot cookin'

Last night I was talking to my brother while I began preparing dinner. Dinner consisted of a grilled cheese sandwich and some butternut squash soup.

I'm an amazing chef, I know.

The butternut soup came in a box, so I just poured it into a pot to heat it, and as I did so, I squeezed the box too hard and spilled some all over the stove top.

I told my brother, "Oops. I just spurted my butternut all over the place."

I'm not sure if that's something he needed to hear.

Saturday, March 28, 2009

A cheerleading chick

Walking back from the research symposium today:

Me: Why are there cheerleaders all over campus?

Labmate: They're in high school, which means they're illegal.

Me: I didn't mean it in a "hey baby" sort of way. I'm just wondering. Why do you think that everything I say is pervy and creepy?

Labmate: That's because everything you say is pervy and creepy.

Me: That's beside the point.

Friday, March 27, 2009

Change came in disguise of revelation, set his soul on fire

I see this truck every morning as I walk to my office:

The picture is really unnecessary since you can't make out what the words say anyway, but I have a camera phone and by Jove I'm going to use it.

The window sticker reads:

It's fitting because I heard that the Obama slays unborn fetuses by shooting their mothers with his collection of banned assault rifles that he wants to keep for himself but nobody else, and then he and his wife toast each other with baby's blood as part of a Satanic ritual they perform in the Oval Office every six days.

Stinkin' Obama.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

I'm fat, I'm fat, really really fat

Roommate's Son: Do you have a six pack Tortellini?

Tortellini: No.

Roommate's Son: Do you Togers?

Togers: No.

Tortellini: Dad has a six fat.

Togers: He's got a six pack . . . of double chins.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

So won't the real Slim Shady please stand up?

One of my friends has a name that doesn't fit his physical appearance at all. One time he was paying for something with a credit card and the cashier said, "I need your card, sir." He said, "That is my card." The guy ran it, but was still skeptical.

The other day my friend told me that he stopped at a Starbucks, and was chatting up the barista when she looked past him and called his name out.

He said, "That's me."

She said, "Oh. You're [Name]? That's awesome!"

He told me, "I just nodded, but I was thinking, 'if you think that's awesome you should see my cock.'"

I'm sure she would've just melted upon hearing that.

Monday, March 23, 2009

The water the water didn't realize it's dangerous size

Mr M: Dad, do you want a Sprite?

Me: No. That's ok.

Mr M: Dad. You can't just drink water all the time.

Me: Why not?

Mr M: Because if you drink too much water, then you'll get healthy and more healthy. And then you'll get sick.

Me: I think you've got it backwards there dude.

Mr M: No I don't. If you get too healthy your body gets sick.

I wasn't aware it worked that way. I might need to go read up on the immune response.

Saturday, March 21, 2009

So if it starts to get you down just pretend that you don't make your living selling advertising

If this doesn't drum up some business for these guys I don't know what will.

I might also mention that the van is full of boxes and trash, and has two flat tires.

Friday, March 20, 2009

One night in Bangkok makes a hard man humble

When my students finish with their dissections, they dispose of the animals in a trash can labeled 'Tissue Waste' since they can't throw them in the trash (for obvious reasons). Because of the way they dispose of tissue wastes, students aren't supposed to put anything else in the tissue waste bin. As I was reminding them about this at the beginning of lab, I looked into the tissue waste container and saw that someone from the lab before mine had thrown some paper towels in there. I sighed, held my breath, and reached into the tissue waste bin to grab the paper towels and throw them away properly. One of my students watched me, and thought I was being a bit melodramatic.

Student: Was it really necessary to hold your breath while you did that? It doesn't smell that bad.

Me: It stinks in there. It's disgusting. You'd probably agree with me if you'd ever stuck your head down there and smelled it up close.

Student: Let's see. [Puts her head down by the barrel, sniffs a few times and then comes back up.] Smells like Thailand in there.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Nothin' forbidden, who you kiddin', now that's livin'

It's hard to pay attention to the band you paid to see when you have this at the bar to the side of you.

Many thanks to my European friend of gay chicken fame for taking this picture* for posterity.

*He may be the gay chicken champ, but his appreciation for nice boobies should be evidence enough that he's straight. If that's not enough, his hot wife ought to be.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

There are real people in the big big trucks

Mr M: I like trucks.

Me: You do?

Mr M: Yeah. When I'm a grown up, I'm going to buy a truck.

Me: You'll need a job so you can afford to buy one.

Mr M: I'm going to save all my money, and I'll probably have to walk up and down the sidewalk to find more money* and save it too.

*At least he has a strategy for when he can't get a job because he won't learn how to read.

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Seal up the book until the time of the end

I'm trying to convince Mr M that he needs to learn how to read, but he's not buying any of it.

Me: Why don't you want to learn how to read?

Mr M: It's boring. You just sit there and don't do anything.

Me: But it doesn't have to be boring. You just have to read about things you like.

Mr M: I don't like anything.

Me: You like monsters don't you?

Mr M: Yeah.

Me: Well, why don't you try to read books about monsters?

Mr M: Because, you can't ever tell if they have monsters in them or not.

Another time:

Mr M: I like Spiderman.

Me: I know you do. You know, there are books about Spiderman. Would you like to read something like that?

Mr M: No. I just like to look at pictures.

Today I was driving with my kids, and I started trying to convince him that he was very close to being able to read. He can sound out all the letters, he just struggles trying to put them all together. Then Togers decided to jump into the conversation.

Togers: The word is antiestablishmentarianism. Get it right next time!

Maybe I've found the root of the problem.

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Doesn't matter much to me as long as he's dead

Last night while standing next to one of my students at the earthworm kill station:

Her: Is the earthworm the biggest thing we have to kill this semester?

Me(lying through my teeth): No.

Her: It's not? What else is there?

Me: You have to kill your own fetal pig.

Her (clearly not getting it): Seriously?

Me: Yeah.

Other Students: *Giggling*

Me (deciding to take it way too far): We also dissect a human baby, and you're going to have to kill that yourself too.

Her: Don't say that. My sister just had a baby.

Me: Well then you're in luck! Because of the budget cuts, you're going to have to supply your own, but it looks like you won't have to look very hard. You can just use your sister's.

Her: You're terrible.

Me: Ok, fine. The earthworm is the only thing you have to kill yourself this semester.

His big luscious lips

I have a friend who is from Europe*. As we all know, Europeans are much more tolerant of things than we are here in the good old U. S. of A. My European friend often scoffs at me and my guy friends for being homophobes. Not because we are, but because we don't join in on conversations like the one about how Johnny Depp is so hot that we'd want to sleep with him. We just don't want to sleep with Johnny Depp. That'd be gay**.

To show off his superior tolerance, my friend will periodically fake like he's going to kiss one of us, and then laughs when we back away. Of course, I always back away because while I don't have anything against gay people, I don't want to kiss another dude. That's just the way it is. He's taken to calling*** this game "gay chicken" and brags about how he's the champion.

Now, I'm a fairly competitive guy by nature, but gay chicken is one game I don't mind losing. Why? Because in order to beat him at it, I'd have to kiss him. Totally not worth it. He can be the gay chicken champion for the rest of his life for all I care.

The other day, another friend of mine said something suggestive, and my European friend turned away. That friend turned to me and said, "I think I just beat [European Friend] at gay chicken."

I said, "I'm not sure that's something you should be proud of."

Gay Chicken: Even when you win, you lose!

*I actually have many friends from Europe, but only one that pertains to this story.

**Someone posed a question to me yesterday: Can a man be bi-sexual, or, is he gay the minute he sleeps with another man, regardless of whether he's still attracted to women? I say a guy can be bi. She said it's not possible, that it only works that way for women. Thoughts?

***Or maybe it was me that named the game. I can't remember.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

A bunch of large sized baggies with big white rocks inside

Friend 1: It's like my house.

Me: With invalids sitting around everywhere.

Friend 2: Moaning and wheezing.

Me: Popping prescriptions pills all day.

Friend 2: And doing crack. With an eight ball in both ears.

Me: And one in the butt crack.

Friends 1 and 2: . . .

Me: What? They call it the dirty eight ball.

Friend 1: I can't believe you'd say that.

Me: I can't believe you'd do that.

Monday, March 09, 2009

I turn my camera on I cut my fingers on the way

Joshua Tree National Park

Pioneer Town

Salton Sea

Somewhere in California

Friday, March 06, 2009

When you're back in your old neighborhood cigarettes taste so good

Yesterday I received a text from my ex-wife:

Your son just said that I need to exercise more and eat less because I'm getting bigger, not smaller.

I would say I've never been more proud of Mr M, except my ex also sent me this picture the other day:

We are simply the best parents* in the entire world.

*It's fake.

Thursday, March 05, 2009

Remember when you didn't have to look ahead or behind you

I've mentioned the phallic root model before. It brings out giggles every semester when it makes its appearance, and last week's lab was no exception.

One of my students asked me to come show her the difference between a couple of things she was supposed to be able to identify through a microscope. While I was trying to find the various things to show to her and giving her explanations, I heard the group of students behind me giggling.

I turned around, and saw them holding the root model and thought nothing more of it.

Until now.

This picture was just emailed to me, and now I know what the giggling was really all about.

Wednesday, March 04, 2009

The weird divide

I'm looking at the clock, and it's 12:12. I'm still in bed. I have a cold that won't go away, so I figured I'd sleep all morning long and see if that helped. It might have. I may sleep all afternoon just to be sure though.

But that's beside the point*. I bring it up because it reminded me of lunch the other day. When my friend and I had finished, our server brought the bill.

Friend: Hmm. Our bill came to $24.24.

Me: That's interesting. Let's just have him split it.

Friend: Ok.

Me: You take the first twenty-four, and I'll take the second.

Friend: . . .

*Unless the point was to try and get sympathy. Which it might have been. Come on. Give it up.

Tuesday, March 03, 2009

Things seem better off now, I think I'm better off now

Louis C. K. putting things into perspective.

Naked as a window

Since my life is relatively boring right now, I'm going to take a trip down memory lane to one of my life's most embarrassing moments.

My family moved to the place Flieswithoutwings so lovingly refers to as "Cow Country" near the end of my junior year in high school (you can read about my arrival here). As part of my taking the new school "by storm" I immediately joined the track team. Not because I was fast, mind you, but because I knew it would afford me the opportunity to attend track meets where I could ogle girls and potentially meet up with some of my friends from my old school.

I've talked about this before, but the new town was very small, and we had to ride the bus approximately forty miles of high, winding mountain roads to get to school. The regular bus left right as school got out, but they also ran a smaller bus so that the students who were involved with extracurricular activities could stay after school without forcing their parents to make the long drive to come pick them up. It was called the home-run bus. (How's that for a lame sports analogy?)

One day after track practice, my friends and I were riding home on the home-run bus. There were several girls on the bus as well. Some from the track team, some from the cheerleading squad, and others who had just stayed after to work on homework or to hang out with their friends. I was wearing sweats and boxers. A bad combination it turned out.

At one point I stood up to throw something away, and my friend, "Geppetto" made a motion like he was going to yank my sweat pants down. Knowing that I had on boxers, and firmly entrenched in the belief that boxers were essentially the same thing as shorts, I told him I wouldn't be embarrassed by that. After all, everyone had seen me in shorts* before.

Considering this a challenge, Geppetto yanked on my sweats. Hard. Down came the sweat pants, and along with them, the boxers (like you didn't see that coming). The problem was, I thought the boxers were still up, so it took a few seconds before I made a movement to rectify the situation. After all, I couldn't very well let Geppetto think he'd gotten the better of me, right?

Anyway, by the time I looked down to see Little Minnow and the Boys had come up for air, Geppetto had already burst out laughing hysterically. Everyone else on the bus had turned around to see what all the commotion was about. A girl on the seat right in front of where I was standing turned around, and literally almost got a face full of my junk. Seriously, she was about six inches away**. I'll simply name her Lucky since she was the first girl to see my penis. Another girl, who we always referred to as the Floating Head, also turned around in time to see everything.

Of course, all of this happened in the span of about five seconds, and I reached down and pulled up my pants as quickly as I could once I realized exactly what had happened. I then proceeded to repeatedly punch Geppetto for his actions. He laughed the whole time and just said he probably deserved it.

Lucky and the Floating Head were beet red, but I didn't let that stop me from trying to play it off.

I said, "[Lucky], [Floating Head], you each owe me $50."

They never paid up.

*And I do have me some sexy legs (or so I've been told).

**Had the bus driver hit the brakes, I may have received my first BJ right then and there.

Monday, March 02, 2009

Some have to fight, forced onto sides, heroes will rise

Today at lunch a group of people left a huge mess on the table next to us. All but one of them left the restaurant, and the girl working the counter had to come out and clean up the mess. As she did so, one member of the group came back inside.

Guy (in the most pretentious voice you can imagine): Ma'am, I would like to apologize for the mess, but I'd also like you to know that I wasn't the only one that left it. Those other people I was with, they fled the scene, but they were guilty. I just wanted to record to show that I was not solely responsible for the mess you're having to clean up. I'd also like to apologize for leaving my bag right here in your way [he reaches down near her feet, picks up a computer bag and almost knocks her over with it], let me get that. Again, I apologize for the mess. Even though it wasn't me.

During his monologue, I got up to grab some more napkins, then sat back down at our table.

My Friend: Oh. I was kind of hoping you were getting up to go punch that guy in the face.

Me: I was kind of hoping that too.