Every time I find myself in this old bind watching the death of my hopes

Last weekend I went out to dinner with three lovely ladies.  We went to a bar and grill where apparently a lot of rednecks like to spend their evenings on the weekend.  In fairness, this is Utah, so that probably describes EVERY bar and grill in the entire state.

We'd finished eating and were just sitting around chatting and listening to the band (if you can call it that, at first we thought it was karaoke until we realized that they never changed singers).  At some point, a 300 pound dude in a camouflage fleece at the table next to us turned around and realized how close he was three very attractive women.  He asked if I was married to any of them.  I said I was married to all three of them.  He must not have believed me because he began using his pick-up lines:

"Hi, I'm Jerry.  I fart, I watch porn, and sometimes I play video games.  I figure I'll start off being honest and we can take it from there."

Oddly enough, the ladies didn't swoon.  Weird.

But Jerry wouldn't be deterred.  He went for his back-up line.  "Do you hunt ducks?"

"No."

"Well, what animals do you hunt?"

"We don't hunt any animals.  We study them."

"Have you ever even shot a gun?"

"Not at anything living.  No."

This came as a shock to Jerry.  He needed something else, and quick.  Another fall-back line.

"Do you smoke?"

"No."

"C'mon, let's go smoke."

"None of us smoke."

"Well, there's a fireplace out there.  Let's go get some fresh air."

"There won't be any fresh air because you'll be SMOKING."  My friend then pointed to a burn mark on his fleece shirt and said, "Besides, I don't trust you with a cigarette since you can't even keep the ashes off yourself judging by this burn."

He kept trying.  He asked if they wanted to see his 1979 motor home with a black light.  He asked if they wanted to go hunting ducks in the morning.  He asked if he could buy them a drink.  When none of that worked he asked if they were lesbians.  Two friends said they were together and he said, "I should've known."  He then turned around and went back to his table.  One of his friends saw that as an open opportunity and swooped in.

"So, how do you guys know Jerry?"

"We don't.  Jerry was just saying hi."

"So, are you having a good time?"

"Oh yeah, it's turning into a GREAT night."

"What?  You think you're too cool for me?"

"No.  I'm not cool at all."

He left too.

It was hilarious to watch that all, but at the same time it was exhausting.  I'm glad I'm not an attractive woman and have to deal with that every time I go out somewhere.

But hey, at least now I know what lines NOT to try in the future.

Lazy fish crisscrossing endless seas will lay their golden eggs right in your hand

If the economy was better, and if I had a job lined up for after I graduate, and if I didn't have too much other crap to have to pay for, I would so buy a bunch of these.

They're certainly not very classy, but perfect for a guy like me. I may end up buying them anyway.

I'm a fast talkin' hell raisin' son of a bitch

Immediately following my sister's graduation ceremony, my brother and I were talking about what a good job she did with her valedictorian speech. He couldn't remember what he said in his, and I couldn't remember what I said in mine, but we know that neither of them were as good as hers.

Thinking back on it though, I'm pretty sure mine went something like this:

Hey there buckaroo and buckaroo-ettes, as we sit here on this graduation day many of us have come to the realization that the days of roping miniature rocking-horse type bulls in the halls are over. It's time for the big rodeo of life. Many of us don't know what the future holds, but it's time to cowboy up, take that bitch by the horns and ride that sucker for all she's worth. We're talkin' the full 8 seconds baby. Now, go out there and git 'er done. Yeeeeee haaaaawwww!!!


At least that's what it looks like I'm saying in this picture*:

*I don't know who took this picture, I'm pretty sure it was my friend's mom, but I love how they didn't bother to try and move a few inches to the side in order to miss the back of someone's head.

A New Tradition?

I grew up in rural Utah, and as I mentioned before, feel very fortunate that I didn't end up being a redneck. However, there are certain things about redneck culture that I couldn't (or didn't) really avoid.
One of those things is that I enjoy shooting guns. I don't own any, but my dad does, and sometimes we'll go out shooting when I'm there visiting.

The past two years I've started something that may become a new tradition in my family. That is that we go to the store the day after Christmas, buy ornaments that are on sale, and go out into the desert to shoot them. It sounds like a very redneck thing to do. It is, but I think it's fun.

It brings to mind the lyrics of a Ben Folds Five song:

"if you're afraid they might discover your redneck past
there are a hundred ways to cover your redneck past
it's good to be back home"

Most of my friends now (that is those who didn't know me when I was growing up) are surprised by the fact that this is something I'd do. I guess that means I've done a relatively good job of hiding my redneck past. But as you can see from these pictures, I'm giving my kids a bit of a redneck past that they will have to cover up as well.

Sooo Boooored

I am proctoring a midterm exam for the class my advisor teaches. While I should be trying to make sure that nobody is cheating, I just found out that the classroom computer has internet access (there are only 3 people left, and they're very spread out so don't worry, they aren't getting away with anything).

I should clarify a little about my post the other day regarding rednecks. I should point out that I come from redneck roots as my dad kind of fits that bill. He is definitely a cowboy. In fact, I think he's secretly disappointed that none of his boys ended up as wrestlers, or rodeo stars or something like that. By all means I should have turned out that way as well, but I'm glad that I didn't. A friend of mine told me the other day that she thinks I might be a closet redneck because I'd still find it fun to go out into the desert and shoot stuff with guns (in fact, she invited me to go with her to Lake Havasu for her birthday in a couple of weeks and do just that). I want to take this time to point out that there is a HUGE difference between being a cowboy and being a redneck. Cowboys I can handle.

Now I Remember

Yesterday was another friend's birthday. It wasn't just any birthday, it was his 21st birthday, and since we live in Vegas, he was eager to go to a bunch of places that have been off limits to him until now. We ended up going to and Irish pub in one of the casinos on the strip. I don't drink, but I do hang out in a lot of bars with my friends who do. I also don't normally go up on the strip (it gets old really fast when you can go up there any day), but since it was a birthday celebration wanted to show my support. I rode up there with another friend of mine, and we met the birthday boy (and a couple of other people) at the bar.

Since it was his birthday, my friend wanted to be the one to go up and get all the drinks as he was just itching to get carded so that he could finally show his ID and not be kicked out (that doesn't really have anything to do with the story, I just thought it was funny to watch).

Also, since it was his birthday, my friend was not drinking very slowly. I think he just wanted to get plastered since it was finally ok. After a few beers, and a few shots (Irish car bombs in case you're wondering), he needed to use the bathroom so left for a while. A few minutes later he came back and was just furious. Apparently, while he was standing there going to the bathroom, some redneck just randomly came up to him and took a swing at him. My friend was able to duck that and the next punch the guy threw and then shoved the guy into the door of one of the stalls. The redneck hurriedly left the bar before my friend could zip himself up (yes, it was out while redneck man tried to punch him) and follow him out of the bathroom.

I went to high school in probably one of the most rural parts of Utah. In fact, it was right on the border of Wyoming, and as you can imagine, most of the people in my high school were rednecks. I hated it, but I did have a few friends who were in a similar situation as me (i.e. not rednecks, but were all transplanted to this place around the same time) that helped make the situation better. We used to sit around and wonder how many other schools in the country had people practicing their roping skills on a little rocking horse in the hallway between classes, and how many other schools you could overhear deals for livestock feed rather than drugs. We were pretty miserable there, and we all grew to hate rednecks. I thought I had gotten over that, but last night showed that might not be the case (and yes, I'm well aware that you can't include an entire group of people under one stereotype and that there are probably some really nice rednecks out there - I just don't seem to come across them very often).