Thoughts From Someone Kick Ass

See the Wicked Miss Copeland post below?

2012-01-06T14:43:00.000-03:30

A reporter from the Tampa Tribune offered to pay me if he could publish it in his paper. Here's his email:

I'd like to use this post in The Tampa Tribune with a story that runs next week on school lunch boxes. I'd like to offer you $50 for it.

Can you please e-mail me at jhouck@tampatrib.com or call me at (813) 259-XXXX?

Jeff XXXXX
The Tampa Tribune
200 S. Parker St.
Tampa, FL, 33606

Never did see a penny of that money.

2012-01-06T11:42:00.001-03:30

I was going to start to call myself a coffee drinker, but remembered that my grandpa has drank black coffee for 60 years and I've had 3 caramel lattes.

Whaaaa?

2006-06-06T08:43:00.000-02:30

Ick.

Wicked Miss Copeland

2006-06-02T12:15:00.000-02:30

The other day over chili spaghetti Hannah told me how much she liked her principal, but that she wasn't working now because she "went to the doctor, or something." The gym teacher had assumed her role. It caught me off guard that someone in school would actually like the principal. My principals were soul crushing trolls that wanted little to do with the students, unless they saw an opportunity for their humiliation.

My highschool and junior high principal (the same guy) was an aging lush, who spent the first half of the day in his office, and the second in a pub called Wolpert's. His greatest contribution to my education was banning shorts in school because they could be too distracting. Forget about the 100 degree weather distracting anyone. (Thanks Mr, Florio.) My elementary school principal was a wicked woman, who no doubt was the inspiration for several Disney movie villians. Her name was Miss Copeland, and I'll never forget my one encounter with her.

I was in the 4th grade eating lunch with my friends in the cafeteria. All was well until I offered to trade my Zagnut candy car for a fruit roll up. Fruit roll ups were still pretty new, and I had been unsuccessful in convincing my mom to buy them for me. I saw I golden opportunity to trade a whole candy bar for one little tiny fruit roll up. It was, and still is, my belief that trading your lunch is part of growing up in America. Well, the freedom hating Miss Copeland saw things quite differently.

She had been stalking me from behind. I didn't see her when I made my offer, but she made her presence known immediately. She began yelling at me, and shaking my arm grasping the Zagnut. She informed me that my mother had packed that item for me and me alone, and it was meant for only me to eat, and not to be foolishly bartered to another child. She dressed me down for about 3 minutes, then ordered me to remain standing while finishing my lunch at the table sobbing in front of my now stunned friends. Lunchtime seemed to last hours that day.

Now, I can understand the total humiliation of a nine year old for the crime of trading a wholesome sandwich for some junky M&M's, but candy for candy? My teacher came over to ask why I was so upset, but alas, I was inconsolible. I'm sure now that Miss Copeland doesn't remember our encounter, (hell, maybe she's dead) but it sure did leave an impression upon me. I really did believe that principals hated children for years. I guess that those who cannot do, teach, and those who cannot teach, become principals (or counselors).

Retraction

2006-05-31T16:27:00.000-02:30

I have decided that it wasn't very nice to post about the girl on the bike. I only have about 3 people that I'd really want to be mean to, and the girl with her tongue sticking out isn't one of them.

So, I hope this case of poor judgement doesn't cause my removal from any blog roles out there. :)

If All The Hippies, Cut Off All Their Hair...

2006-05-27T20:05:00.000-02:30

Found this kick ass blanket at the mall the other day. The indian guy running the place even gave me $5 off for no reason. I would have bought it any way, but of well. Whenever I think of Jimi, I recall the night me and Scott were cruisin' home in the Fairlane, and we kept saying, "No one in the entire world but us are cruising in a baby blue, 1961 Ford Fairlane 2 door post, jamming to Jimi fucking Hendrix right now," as If 6 were 9 blared in our ears.

Passwords, A Matter of Life... and Death

2006-05-23T20:29:00.000-02:30

"Under NO circumstances use another's signon unless it is life and death, and then make sure you are backed by someone more in charge than you are." -I & T Guy in my condescending reprimand email.
(I'll try and keep that in mind when I really am in a life and death sitch.)

God, The Bulldozer

2006-05-16T23:39:00.000-02:30

A while back I encountered a patient with an amazing story. He didn't talk too much about it, he was still in a little bit shock, so I got most of what happened from his chart. I swear that it is all true, and I am making none of it up.

This gentleman was cruising down the highway when he collapsed over the steering wheel, coming to a clumbsy stop in the grass at the side of the highway in a contruction zone. He was suffering what the lay person would call a heart attack, but what is usually referred to as a ventricular rhythm. He was dying, and quickly.

Well, of course this caused quite a stir among the workers at the site. They immediately began doing what they do best, standing around and staring. Luckily one person did have the sense to call 911. The chart stated that the workers observed that he wasn't moving, and was turning gray.

All of this commotion grabbed the attention of the individual operating the bulldozer that day. Now I'm not sure what the top speed of a bulldozer is but I figure that it can't be too quick even at full throttle, therefore can't be too hard to handle. Maybe it was wet out, I don't know, but what I do know is that this yay-hoo lost control of his bulldozer and crashed into the guy's truck. Now normally this would be categorized as "adding insult to injury," but it this case the jolt deployed the airbag, essentially administering a precordial thump, reviving the man. His heart popped back into rhythm, resuming the blood flow to his brain, saving his life.

Soon after, Air Care arrived, and took the man to where he lay when I met him. In the chart it stated that his heart had to be shocked back into rhythm 6, yes, 6 more times on the way to the hospital.

So, I ask you, just like the annoying billboards ask, "If You Died Today, Would God Run Into Your Car With a Bulldozer?"

3 Unrelated Items

2006-05-15T23:51:00.000-02:30

Everytime I log onto my hotmail account on the right side of the screen is an ad for some toenail fungus medication that is really gross.

I read somewhere that it is nearly impossible to fold any size piece of paper in half seven times. I tried it a couple of times and it is pretty freaking hard.

And here's a picture of Scott's 56 because it is so bitchin.

Soon... the most amazing story about a patient I saw a while back. Don't worry, no names or dates.

The Dentist's Chair In The Basement

2006-05-11T17:10:00.000-02:30

Talking to my brothers while on vacation, I was reminded of some of the various things that spent time in the basement of our house. Dad was always bringing things home, but instead of kittens or puppies, it was usually cast off items from the hospital he worked at.

One day we became the proud new owners of a used bumper pool table. I thought at first it was just a small pool table, but turns out it had all these mushroom like bumper things that made the game of pool impossible. I can't tell you how many shots would bounce out of the hole and back onto the table. We were later informed by my dad that the table's previous location was the psych ward. We were fascinated. "This table has been around crazy people!" we all would say. "Wow, how many crazies play pool?" we wondered aloud. Looking back, I believe that if you want to help someone regain their sanity, letting them play bumper pool is probably a bad idea.

The insane bumper table was later replaced by a regulation sized pool table. We were so excited. A real table, it was going to be awesome. These thoughts of joy were soon lost when we actually started to play pool. The slate was actually a piece of warped plywood, and after you the break, all of the balls would come to a rest against the same rail. It was a little like putt putt pool. Also hampering our efforts was the fact that the table took up 90% of the room, ensuring that the cue stick would always hit the wall on your backswing. But, we made the best of the situation.

Soon joining the warped pool table was a dental chair. Yes, a dental chair. The thing was huge, and weighed about 600 pounds. We recently asked my dad his reasoning behind bringing it home, and even he couldn't offer an acceptable explanation. We would sit in it, go up, go down, pretend to give each other root canals... it really wasn't as fun as it sounds. It stayed there until we moved to Florida. We asked my dad what he ultimately did with it. He said that he sold for about 100 bucks. We asked who he sold it to, and he said, "I don't know, some guy that wanted a dentist chair in his basement."

My Quick Vacation

2006-05-08T02:48:00.000-02:30

Went down to Mississippi to visit my dad and brothers this weekend. Had alot of fun. Even though we didn't ride atv's (Ryan's is on the fritz), we still got out and did a few things.

First thing I did when I hit town was buy a BB gun at the Wal-Mart. Although now I regret not buying the fully automatic model. I will use it to shoot at the ferrel cats that crawl all over my cars from the back window in my apartment. Don't worry, the BB's are these little plastic things, and I couldn't hit water from a boat with it.

Had the best steak I have eaten in a long time in a restaurant that resembled a shed inside and out. It was called the County Barn or something. (Thanks, dad.)

Here is a picture of my dad. He is using a set of jumper cables to try and pull down a dead tree limb. I was sure that hilarity would ensue, but alas, the tree would not give in, and he said he would just grab one of the many chainsaws laying around the place and finish it off later.

Had a lot of fun in Neil's Mustang. If you click here you can see a quick clip of us on the back roads. We had to let up because of an oncoming car. It's killer to ride in. I think everyone should have one.

Finally, here is the kind of thing that shows upon your camera when you leave it sitting around brothers.

Pablo's Sales Guys

2006-05-04T08:38:00.000-02:30

Well, had my camera all day today, but didn't see anything cool like a drug bust or crash happen. But, I did take my camera to my dinner with Hannah.

I went ahead and took a picture of the tool that was yelling repeatedly for our server's attention while we ordered from her. She finally glared over and told him to wait just a second. Even Hannah thought it was weird of him. If you look at the picture, he seems to think there is a discrepency on his bill. Doesn't he just look like the guy that would yell for your server's attention while you ordered? I think that a date rape charge may be in his history somewhere too. If you look closely, you can see a closed laptop. When we walked in he was doing some kind of power point presentation for two of his cronies. Don Pablo's is a great place to close a deal, I guess.

As you can tell from this pic, we enjoyed our chips anyway.

Digital Camera

2006-05-03T08:38:00.000-02:30

I'm starting to carry my digital camera with me more as I drive. I'm doing this because I was waiting at the Edwards/Madison Ave intersection the other day and witnessed a high speed pursuit end at the brand new BP station.

I swore he was going to plow into me while I waited at the light. But instead a 3rd cop car cut him off at the exit. They all came running and screaming at the man with guns drawn. He didn't look too terrified or anything, kind of calm really. I still think about how cool of a picture that would have been.

Well, I'm off to work, with my camera in hand. I did hear that TI and his posse got into a gun battle last night on 75 and 4 of them are at my hospital. I'm wondering if I'll run into any of them today.

Business Card Ass

2006-05-02T20:08:00.000-02:30

I was browsing the tavern wench blog earlier, and couldn't help but notice how guys use their business cards as part of their arsenal to pick up women in bars. It seems to happen more often when an older guy is trying to score a much younger chick, maybe because most younger guys don't carry business cards.

I don't have a business card. Maybe I could make my own though. "C. Breedlove" it would read. "CEO, Cardiology/Drag Racing Division"

Ok, so what happens to these cards after Mr. Important hands them out? Well I know the fate of 2 of them. The one in the above mention bog wound up in a pasta dish, the other one? Well it fell into my hands.

Mr. Kundrata made his play on a girl here at work. He evidently works for Delta and the government or something. He's looking for someone younger (in this case 15 years younger) to fly around the world and to bear his children, because as he puts it "There are too many risks in a woman his age bearing a child." Or, as I would put it, "They'll probably be retarded." His closer, "Oh, did I tell you I met the Pope one day?" Yeah, we googled him and in his little hometown paper there was a story on the local that met the Pope.

Well, she didn't call him. Sad, I know. So I took a pic of his card with what I think is a great improvement that will surely bag him the 20 something girl of his dreams.

Shelob Visits

2006-04-27T11:50:00.000-02:30

This morning I was, getting ready for work when I looked up and saw a fairly large spider sliding down from the ceiling. I wasn't scared of the thing, but have been bitten before, I figured I'd rather not have it in my bathroom.

The problem was that I was in mid shower. So, I started flicking water up at it. After several attempts, I succeeded in forcing him to beat a retreat back up his strand. Only after about 3 or 4 inches back upwards, his resolve stiffened, and he started back down. I returned to flicking water again in between trying to finish my shower. It was: wash, flick-flick, rinse, flick-flick... I was trying my best to keep him in the air and out of my shoes.

This was working fine until I glanced around the curtain and noticed I was soaking my fresh roll of toilet paper and peppering a book that I had just bought, not to mention the clothes I had set out to put on.

So, I finished my shower, leaned out, grabbed the Dave Chappelle edition of Esquire, rolled it up, and whacked his ass... right towards my clean clothes. I thought, "Fuck, why does this shit always happen to me?" A debate raged in my head on whether I had hit it hard enough to kill it, or just stun it, or just piss it off. Taking no chances, now running a little behind schedule, I shook the hell out of all of my clothes before I put them on.

So far, I haven't felt any bites or anything, so maybe Chappelle got the job done.

Waterfall Update

2006-04-25T23:25:00.000-02:30

My on again, off again relationship with the office building waterfall continues.

I noticed yesterday that it didn't sound like it was pouring cats and dogs outside. I looked out, and the huge waterfall across the street had been turned off. Evidently, Hyde Park residents DO NOT tolerate their cars getting doused by a fake office building waterfall for long.

Now, if you want to tear down local neighborhoods...

I Think My Brothers Are Too Funny

2006-04-25T23:09:00.000-02:30

"Neil says that I talk about work too much, but I'm going to anyway."

-Ryan B.

Who The Hell Steals a Dog?

2006-04-25T10:00:00.000-02:30

It all started just the other day, when I noticed that the grass out in front of my apartment was getting obnoxiously high. I mean, like a foot tall.

So I called the landlord's assistant, Rosemary, and asked if the maintenance guy, John, was going to cut the grass. I also inquired about the status of him installing my window unit a/c. (I had requested the a/c be installed a week or so ago, but made the mistake of mentioning that it wasn't anything urgent.) She informed me that he was getting around to it, and that the grass would be cut soon. I was really trying to not be that pain in the ass renter, but the grass was embarrassingly high. So high, that I had noticed that the neighbors had stopped letting their dog go to the bathroom in it for what I thought was a fear of losing it in the brush. This was a little bit of a good thing, I didn't have to warn Hannah about the turds normally awaiting her arrival to my place.

Later that day I came home to the sound of a lawn mower hacking it's way through the 5x20 patch of grass that posed as our front yard. My cordial wave hello was returned by what I swear was a dirty look. I stopped and said hi to my dog loving neighbors on my way up. They assumed that I was the one who called and "got John out there" to mow. I told them that it was crazy high, and that they couldn't even let there dog out the front anymore, and that's when they dropped the bomb...

Someone had stolen their dog, and that is why I hadn't seen it in the front yard lately. My neighbors choked up as they related the story to me. Evidently, Larry had walked with his beloved poodle down to the Speedway to get some cigs. As he was inside, someone picked up the dog and ran off with it. I glanced over at Chris and noticed how pained he was. I'm not really a dog lover, but this really angered me. Who would steal someone's dog? It wasn't some pure bred or anything, just a cute little poodle. I looked Larry in the eye and said, "If I ever find out who stole Buttercup, I will kick their ass." And I meant it.

I walked up the stairs and proceeded to install the a/c my damn self. I figure that if the unit falls out window and onto one of the ever smiling Mexican guys that live next door, that's the landlord's fault.

More background people

2006-04-24T01:52:00.001-02:30

Here's a new picture of Hannah with her cousing Taylor. I took them to Skyline the other day. I am again also interested in the local West Chester resident in the background. I think that he is either getting ready to enjoy an oyster cracker, or is kind of sad or something.

Don't Go Chasin' Waterfalls...

2006-04-24T01:29:00.000-02:30

The other day I was really bummed because it was raining and I couldn't take my old car out for a ride to see if all the work I had done on it was still holding up. When I got home from work it wasn't raining too hard just sprinkling really, but after a while it was just pouring. I laid on my couch and just watched tv.

Well, after an hour or so of pouring rain, I looked out the window, and it didn't look like it was raining at all. I went out front and noticed that the sound that I took as a steady soaking rain was really just the office building's new waterfall that they had started up. I felt duped. The water actually gets blown off the faux rocks and onto the cars sitting at the stoplight, which is unfortunate, because the light takes about 20 minutes to turn green.

You can barely make out the water fall in this picture, they turn on these blue lights at night. I have been told that I am lucky, and that it's like I have my own personal waterfall in my front yard, but I can't help but remember how we got off on the wrong foot.

A Glorious Sight

2006-04-19T00:00:00.000-02:30

Because of my aversion to the laundromat, and all of my time spent working on my car this week, I had been just buying more underwear in place of actually washing the pairs that I had. Today I finally broke down and did my laundry. This chain of events has lead to a drawer full of the most clean underwear I have ever owned in my life. Even when I was a child, I am sure that I have never had this many pairs of clean underwear at one time.

This bonanza has also enabled me to discard three pairs that I describe as "shady." I will also note that I do not own one pair of tighty-whities.

Fairlane Update

2006-04-18T00:34:00.000-02:30

Well, after many hours, a few cuss words, and even a few prayers, the big Ford is on her feet again. Overall, things went pretty smoothly. Nothing outrageous happened, and me and Scott got along great during the whole build. I've posted a few pictures to show the progress.

Here's Scott working on the new motor. If you look closely in the left of the picture is Harry. Harry is Scott's 80 year old neighbor who would periodically stop by and offer his "encouragement". Well, it was more like criticism or tough love. He is a really nice guy who evidently is sick and tired of how the local kids drive way to fast down his alley. Oh, and he swears he saw a pack of 15 (yes 15) cats last night in the same alley, and a single white squirrel in his front yard one day. We were really glad that he wasn't around when we had to pull the radiator back out to install the fan because we figured he'd say, "Well, I would never had made that mistake."

Here's me checking out the motor before we try and fire it up. It took a little bit of tweaking, but once the distributor was dailed in, it started right up. I was very relieved. Then, after 3 seconds, it died. After a quick check, I realized that I hadn't hooked up the fuel line.

Finally up and running, late into the night. But so far worth all the work. Oh, and yeah, I took off the bumper, problem with that??

Kabaka, what a wookie...

2006-04-13T15:31:00.000-02:30

I heard that there was a shooting outside of city hall yesterday, but I'm pretty sure that it was just teenagers popping balloons.

Oh yeah. Rumor has it that the guy that shot him was spotted in the hospital yesterday around 4:30 looking to finish the guy off. There were about 50 police officers around here about that time.

Adrenaline Flunkie

2006-04-13T12:18:00.000-02:30

A while back I watched an episode of "Jack Osbourne- Adrenaline Junkie." This kid couldn't run 40 feet without being gassed, but he was training to climb some mountain somewhere. Well, to get into shape, he decides to dip his toe into Mui Thai boxing. Now if you didn't know, that is a great way to get your ass kicked in a hurry if you don't know what you are doing (and he doesn't).

Well, I decided that it would be cool to see him get his ass served to him, so I stuck with it. The guy he was fighting was this older dude with a record of 150-30 or something. The old guy punched pretty hard, but rocked the Mui Thai muffin top.

Finally, they fought, and I swear, to my bitter disappointment the old guy took a dive. I felt ripped off. But I envied the guy for playing along. I doubt he had any real idea who Jack was. Maybe he would have dropped him if he had known, though.

Here's Jack in training. Things didn't look like they'd go his way, I thought.

Here's the fight. Jack looks in better shape, the other guy is a little chubby, but I would still figure he'd kick his ass. Jack just touched him on the chin, and down he went, kind of smirking I thought. An hour of build up for that. Note the 'hawk.

Oh well. I never saw another episode. I figured that if he couldn't climb the mountain, they'd just helicopter his ass up there like he did it anyway.

Soccer Day, AKA: A 7 Year Old's Weekly Nightmare

2006-04-11T01:15:00.000-02:30

I believe that the West Chester Soccer League's rule book mentions somewhere to never cancel a game no matter what Mother Nature throws at them. They will play in any condition; rain, snow, 20 degree weather with 50mph winds... The latter is the category that last Saturday fell into.

My seven year little girl however, does not share their dedication. The warmth we felt in the truck tricked her into getting her soccer equipment on and out onto the field. She immediately knew that this just wasn't her bag, and it was a struggle to keep her in the game. She did eventually finish, and played one of her better games.
Here she is in the line where they do drills. I think you can tell she is just moments from running off and towards me. Out 100 girls that showed up that day, she hath protest the loudest of all of them about being made to play in the cold. Keep it real, girl.
Here is a picture I took afterwards at Steak n' Shake. I'm just fascinated by the snarling kid that happened to be in the background.

The Fairlane Project

2006-04-11T01:02:00.000-02:30

Well, after many miles and many cases of oil, the motor in the Fairlane finally started to give out. It spun a bearing, and if you don't know what that means, don't worry, just hope it doesn't happen to you.

But, me and my friend Scott have chosen to rebuild the old girl, and with lots of luck, and probably just as much cash, hopefully she'll be up on her feet again in no time. I have chosen to document the procedure here, and hopefully it will end in success, not like that show on TLC the other day "Face Eating Tumor," where they flashed a 3 second screen of text coldly letting me know that the kid died like 5 days after the cameras left.

Here I am looking over the hurt motor one last time before we get started. Can you tell that I am just a littled saddened?

Fast forward 3 hours, and here I am at the controls of the hoist, lifting the engine out of the car. I'm trying not to scratch anything, but that's the way it goes, Lefty.

The end of day one. The motor is out, and the Fairlane awaits her new heart. Hopefully the one we have runs right, or it's going to be a long couple of weeks.

T9

2006-04-06T17:15:00.001-02:30

Just learned T9 text messaging. It may change my life. Or save me a few minutes a day. Check it out.

www.t9.com

Down with the ATL

2006-04-06T11:04:00.000-02:30

So, decided to go down to Newport on the Levee Friday to enjoy some gourmet pizza. Hilarity ensued.

As I sat on the bench waiting for a seat at Dewey's, a slow tidal wave of teenagers started surrounding me and the bench I was sitting on. They would jump on the benches around us yelling at their friends below and above, and get into constant playful shoving matches with the opposite sex. I believe I counted 100 pairs of Timberlands, and an equal amount of jerseys. I also noticed several girls awkwardly learning how to walk in heels on the fly.

I felt a little bit like when I'm in a cramped elevator. I didn't feel threatened or anything, just crowded. So I decided to wait in the restaurant for my seat. A few minutes later, the crowd started screaming and yelling. A fight had obviously broken out on the lower level. It seemed to go on for a long time, so I decided to walk out to the railing and check out the fun and see how the mall security had decided to deal with it. Two steps out of the place that "takes pizza to the next level" a huge BANG!! rang out, and the fun was over. Pandemonium ruled. Screaming teenagers ran by me, looking for safety in the stores. A large lady scooped up her two dazed kids under each arm, running in place, looking for somewhere to hide. I eyed her now vacant seats at the bar. I thought better of it and followed the store employees into the back room. Two hostesses were in tears. I looked down, and two teenagers were on the ground, alternately laughing hysterically, and crying. One kept saying "Why people gotta be stupid?" I said, "I don't know," as I looked around the corner to see if the large lady's spot at the bar was still open.

Things gradually simmered down, and the big lady reclaimed her seats. After waiting about an hour or so for a seat, I finally got to order my Hawaiian pizza. I was disappointed that they didn't put cinnamon on it. I asked the server if the Levee was always like this now, and she promised me it wasn't as another fight broke out down the stairs from where our seat was. She explained that it was the premiere of T.I.'s movie, "ATL" and that it was also the first day of spring break. She also told us that "Ice Age" was also premiering that night.

A third fight erupted down the hall on my way back to the parking lot. I figured Starbucks was out of the question.

I heard the next day that authorities were claiming that someone had popped a balloon at the mall, and that was the sound I heard. I remember being at Applebee's a couple of times when balloons have "gone off" and I don't remember patrons screaming for their lives, running for the exits. I also don't recall a clown face painting and twisting balloons into kitten shapes at the Levee that night. I have heard balloons pop, and I have heard gun shots, and that sound was no balloon. But what do I know, mall security guards are the experts, right?

The Oakley Laundromat

2006-03-30T01:38:00.000-03:30

Included in the sights of the Oakley Laundromat are the cliffhanging cigarettes that bravely dangle from the lips of the ladies who work there. I am always curious about what people think when they receive their "clean" clothes and they smell like a pack of smoked Basics. "That's what they get," is what I think to myself.

Here is the sign posted on the dryers used at the 'mat. I always thought this sign was a little unnecessary, but after stopping and looking around at my fellow patrons, maybe it isn't such a bad idea.

Here is my laundry, obediently tumbling away. If you look closely, you can see the 3 year old and his puppy that I forgot to take out of the dryer before I started my load.

And finally, here is the vending machine that stole my dollar.

Wet shoes and broken glass

2006-02-21T10:02:00.000-03:30

Behind my house where I grew up was a small creek that served as the official playground of me and my brothers. It also doubled as a great place for the stupid to get into trouble.

I was down in the creek throwing rocks at things my brother placed on the wall of the bridge above me. He would warn me when cars would be coming by, and I would wait and then resume throwing rocks over the bridge. Well, the patience of an 8 year old wears thin in a hurry, and I started cutting my throws closer and closer as cars drove past.

He warned me of a van coming, but I threw anyway. My rock sailed high, and I heard the most sickening sound a kid throwing rocks could imagine, breaking glass. Back then, I wasn't one for facing the consequences of my actions (or now, some would argue), so I turned and bolted, leaving my brother stranded on the bridge. I figured he could handle himself, and if we split up, they'd never catch us both.

I ran through the creek and back towards the woods as fast as I could. I risked a sprained ankle with every step. My shoes were starting to get soaked with creek water, something which my mother would surely kill me for if the van people didn't beat her to it. Oddly, John Couger's "Hurt So Good" sprung into my head as I continued on. (It was the big song of the day.)

The fate of my brother weighed upon me as I cut through the back of the Marsh grocery store that housed the Pac Man machine. I also wondered how much damage I had caused the van. Was it the headlight? The windshield? Surely they were taking out their wrath on my poor brother. I prayed that he had ran and escaped, and was not in the hands of the same authorities that hassled me for my firework display earlier in the year.

Pouring sweat, I returned home. I was exhausted, and my shoes were still soaked. There were no cruisers in the driveway, a good sign. I slowly opened the screen door and poked my head inside. I spotted my brother sitting on the couch enjoying cartoons with a bowl of cereal in his lap. I asked, "What happened?! How'd you get away? Did you run?!" To which he replied, "Naaaah. They just kept drivin'."

Chipotle Tried To Kill Me

2006-01-30T23:35:00.000-03:30

If what doesn't kill you, makes you stronger, then I should be freaking bullet proof.

It started Thursday night while watching Mystic River on HBO. Since they seem to show the same movies on a continuous loop, I figured I could swing by Chipotle and come back and watch what I missed. I mean it's soooo f'ing obvious that Tim Robbins killed that poor girl, jeez.

So, I got behind the the most annoying couple in Hyde Park (and that's saying something) and settled in for my burrito order. Those two were so demanding and weird, I wanted to throw a basketball at their heads before I got to the cheese section of the line. The normal girl in front of me even stated that she was "flustered" when she paid her tab. So it's not just me, ok?

Anyway. So I enjoyed half my burrito and put the other half away for lunch the next day. That was at about 8:30pm. Well, I might as well have eaten uranium. I woke up at 2, 3, and then finally at 4:30am, and, well, I'll spare you the details. It's not what you think though, my stomach was thrown into reverse.

Well, I had thrown up for the first time in years. I experienced that 5 minute period after barfing that you feel pretty good, and then started feeling like hell again. My stomach just kept burning. I had to call into work, and I'm still not completely over it yet. I even briefly thought about having the uneaten half of my burrito analyzed at some lab that does that kind of thing.

And whaaa? Robbins DIDN'T kill her??? I'm seeing 6 figures, Chipotle.

Wedding Crashers Sucked

2006-01-20T09:30:00.000-03:30

I rented Wedding Crashers last night. I didn't get past the 16 minute mark. I was told this movie was hilarious. Since when is dancing with old ladies and eating cake with your mouth open funny? I turned it off and watched CSI.

Oh, and for some reason whenever I go to Blockbuster a message pops up that my account is on hold. They then call the North College Hill store and they tell them that it is a mistake. This has happened about 10 times. I told them to call them and cuss them out for me, but they refuse to do so. North College Hill never has an explanation for this, they just say to remove the hold. But, it always pops up again.

Anyone have a movie to recommend? Let me know.

Gaaaaazing

2005-12-30T11:06:00.000-03:30

Since I am not done mentally editing my most recent life event, (My trip to the Wal Mart that resembled the Superdome.) I have chosen to share a few of my deep observations.

1. I've heard that King Kong could have been shortened by 1/2 an hour if they only would have cut out all the "gazing." At first I though she said "dancing," and I said, "There is a lot of dancing in King Kong?" And she said "No, gaaazing, you know like staring into each others eyes?" My friend Scott said that we are lucky that it wasn't 6 hours with that Lord of the Rings guy directing it.

2. I see lots of people buying six packs of Old Milwaukee Beer in my local Marathon at 6 in the morning. I was wondering if they were planning ahead for the evening, or were just alcoholics. The early polls of Bloggers named Craig say alcoholics.

3. I will wait until my windshield wipers are practically shredded before I change them. I will try to see out the postage stamp sized area that they actually clean for me. It's not that I get attached to them or sentimental, I'm just too lazy to go to Autozone to get new ones.

Lunch Discussion 12/23/05

2005-12-23T14:53:00.000-03:30

What do some of the people responsible for saving your life at the hospital talk about during lunch? Well I'll tell ya.

We all decided that it was "bullshit" that we were having to work today given that Christmas Eve was tomorrow and hardly anyone else had to work.

The debate raged on about why Brad chose Angelina over Jen. Angelina was considered a skank by most, but I countered that Jen was probably a prude. I said that he chose Angelina because she was more of a freak. The girls said that maybe Jen was a closet freak. I said that she may have been at first, but then dialed it down after she settled into the relationship. Brooke still cannot be convinced to make out with ANY chick, not even Angelina.

The discussion then moved onto the grossess of public pools. Brooke refuses to swim in public pools because water that has been in contact with people's buttholes can come into contact with her mouth. A unanimous decision was reached that this was really disgusting. I then recouinted the time I was little and swimming in Wilson Pool near my house and saw a turd underwater. The effectiveness of Chlorine was doubted.

Another mentioned that they would like to go to Kings Island's water park one time, but I said that I'm pretty sure only hillbillies go there. I then stated that The Beach Waterpark is getting old and slimey.

End of lunch.

The Flying Dentures

2005-12-21T12:01:00.000-03:30

There are a few things that 8 year olds find absolutely hilarious, that adults don't find funny at all.

We were cruising in our killer van with Cragar mags. My dad had decided that the regular van seating was too expensive when he bought it, but had no problem ponying up the dough for the Cragars. Me and my brothers were sitting in the black love seat my dad had wedged into the back for us.

All was right in the world until he leaned out the window to sneeze, and his false teeth flew out the freaking window and onto the street. Me and my brothers went crazy. It was pandemonium. It's not every day that you see your dad's teeth fly by the window. We were bouncing up on the couch like chimps trying to see the dentures on the road.

This did not strike my father as funny at all. He slammed on the brakes, and pulled a U turn. He was going back to retrieve his teeth. We were told to "shut up, sit down."

I figured that they would be in a thousand pieces, but they weren't. They were barely scathed. I'm pretty sure that he glued them back together and went on with his business. The teeth lasted until the unfortunate day the front wheel flew off his ten speed.

One Legged Baby Jesus

2005-12-20T10:30:00.000-03:30

Found.

Ok, Maybe Not...

2005-12-20T10:19:00.000-03:30

Michael G 12/13/2005 >>>>

I have no report of a capture.

>>> Craig Breedlove 12/12/2005 9:15 AM >>>
Have your undercover officers caught the perpetrators yet?

Thanks, Craig

Ok, iPod stealer, maybe I underestimated you. I thought that for sure the Special Ops division of the UC Campus police would capture or maim you. The CSI team is now ralleying to look for hairs or microbes or what not. Every crimial leaves a clue. Just don't pay any attention to the orange pylon that is following you around in the garage.

iPod Stealer, You're Going Down

2005-12-20T10:06:00.000-03:30

Hey iPod stealer, I hope you like the view from behind bars, because the UC Police department will not rest until they apprehend you. How do I know? I have proof, an assurance from the VP of the hospital that they have a covert operation underway at this moment. And he would never lie to me, would he? Here is a copy of the email, and my response:

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
My response:

They must be REALLY well disguised, because I never see them in there.
Are they dressed as orange pylons by any chance? I have seen those in
there numerous times. Craig

>>> 12/9/2005 1:57 PM >>>
Please give the staff this update.

Manager lady

>>> Michael G 12/9/2005 1:50 PM >>>
Yes, we know (I read all police reports daily) and have been monitoring
it closely. We have both uniformed and plain clothes units in the
garage, as well as our motorist assistant keeping and eye out. Hopefully
we will catch the miscreants.

>>> Manager lady: 12/9/2005 1:31 PM >>>
Michael:

I am sure that you have heard about the many auto thefts that have
occurred in the North Garage. Is there any way to have a security guard
patrol the North Garage on a regular basis?

Manager lady.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

So, see? They have a top secret undercover operation underway right now. Probably snipers too. So watch your six.

Found!!

2005-12-16T09:34:00.000-03:30

If you have read this blog before, you may remember the list of items that have disappeared since I had gotten a roommate. Well, I have good news. My favorite hat has been found!

The hat was recently located underneath the vacuum cleaner caked in baby powder. Yes, I know that in any other house or apartment something lost underneath the vacuum cleaner would probably be found within a week. The baby powder is another story. I'm not sure how it gets everywhere, all I know is that it does.

I am hoping with weeks of rehab the bill can be bent back into the shape it was in before this horrible incident. Luckily, I did not activate the "Love Chip" in my new hat yet.

Thanks for all your cards and letters.

Perfect North Devastation

2005-12-12T23:00:00.000-03:30

"Only pussies ski," my friend dutifully informed me when I was trying to decide which to get at the rental booth at Perfect North Slopes. He didn't seem to care that 4 guys standing next to us were holding skis. My friends never cared much about offending other people, and it was one of the reasons I liked hanging out with them. I headed to the slopes, and left behind the booth that I determined smelled a lot like the Cat House at the zoo.

I took a few practice turns and decided that I was ready for bigger things. Besides, the bunny hill is at the bottom of the run, and I decided that it smelled like a septic tank down there. I had arrived at a dangerous point in the learning curve. Good enough to get up enough speed to hurt myself, not good enough to stay on my feet.

I was heading down the hill way too fast for my own good. I leaned back, trying to slow down, then WHAM, I slammed backward square on my ass and head. I slid for about 8 more feet, prone, dazed. I looked up at the stars. I heard my friends laughing at me from the ski lift overhead. "Whoooaa, was that Craig? Wow. Damn, that had to hurt, hahahaha."

I started to take inventory. My head was still attached, but hurting. My board was laying next to me. My hat was gone, and my jacket had come partially unzipped. I started to think about getting out of there before I got ran over when I looked up and saw a Mexican kid with my hat in his hands. "Is this yours?" he said. I just reached up and grabbed it. I think that I said thanks. He then spotted an empty mini liquor bottle and inquired whether that was mine too. I told him that it wasn't, but I'm sure that he didn't believe me.

I slowly gathered myself, and started snow boarding again. I didn't wreck hard the rest of the night. But my head and ass hurt for a week. And I'll always remember the Mexican kid returning my hat to me. And my friends laughing like jackals from the ski lift.

One Car Pile Up

2005-12-11T23:58:00.000-03:30

Many times I have gone through the drive thru and wondered just who would be dumb enough to wreck into that pole on the corner before the first window. It always looks likes it has been tagged about 50 times, but I have never seen this actually happen, until today.

I always figured that for someone to hit this pole they would have to have a car full of screaming kids, or be driving a huge car that would be hard to control. I figured wrong. It was a lady in a mini van. The mini van part doesn't suprise me at all, but the fact that it was not full of kids bouncing around was suprising.

I was in mid order when I heard a horrific crunching noise coming from in front of me. I looked up, and her door was grinding against the pole. The pole refused to yield. The lady let go of the wheel and yelled "aack!" This threw me off of my game. I lost my ordering rhythm. I was distracted by the lady leaning out of her van door looking down on what she had done. She had cut the turn waaaay to early, and now was trying to back off the barrier. I repeated that I wanted a "plain" cheesburger, not a "painful" cheeseburger to the girl taking orders.

The accident was made even more horrific by the fact that the van was a gleeming white. Now it looked like a brown Buick had sideswiped it. She dislodged the family sedan and proceeded to the window. She mentioned nothing about the crash to the kid taking money. I know this because I asked him. He just looked at me. I just remember thinking that he had a tremendous amount of rubber bands on his braces.

I started to pull out of the drive thru and I remember wondering how exactly you report that to the insurance company. I mean, it's not like the pole is going to jump out in front of you while going 60 mph. (See Deer Story below.) Then I noticed that they had forgotten my straw for my drink, how annoying.

Ha, suckers

2005-12-08T14:48:00.000-03:30

Dear iPod Stealer,

Thanks for breaking the window of my truck. I sure hope that you didn't cut yourself on all of the glass. It was great driving to work in 18 degree weather. It was such a rush! I just imagined I was in the Iditorod Sled Dog race, mushing my loyal companions to work.

Oh, there is something I should let you know. That iPod's hard drive is shot. It will cost you $250 to fix. It's not normal for an iPod to click constantly and heat up to about 200 degrees. The people at The Apple Store will be glad to help you. Just ask them where the Genius Bar is. Oh, a genius is someone who is smart, or someone that you will never be confused for. If they ask for a receipt, just tell them you'll try to steal it later and bring it back. Also, you forgot the headphones, sportwatch, and expensive protein powder that were sitting right next to the broken iPod. Let me know if you are interested. Those items are related to exercise, so I'm starting to understand why you left them.

In parting, thanks again for letting me experience the rush of artic air on the way to work. And in case you are curious yes, my new video iPod is awesome and no you can't borrow it.

Craig

This has got to stop

2005-12-01T01:39:00.000-03:30

What the hell is with the naked guy in the locker room? I would rather stand next to someone on fire than some naked hairy dude at the gym. Are you that person? Stop it. Or at least hurry the hell up and get dressed. Don't stop and watch the tv, don't adjust your watch, get dressed. I can't possible be expected to bend over and get my gym bag when you are pulling this stunt. I am imprisoned by your nakedness.

Who Knew the Dollar Store Rocked So Hard?

2005-11-20T17:23:00.000-03:30

Like you, I always drove by the Dollar Store thinking that it was the ghetto of the discount chains. I always thought that it probably smelled funny, and specialized in off brand perfumes and toys that would snap within 10 minutes of opening. Well, all of those assumptions are correct, but, they have tons of killer deals there also.

The candles burn quicker, but are pretty cheap, the detergent isn't the usual rip off like at Kroger, and I found a nice set of hair clippers for $10. Medicine, generic but somewhat effective.

So, if you don't mind being the only customer with private health insurance, I say give the Dollar Store a go.

Every Morning

2005-11-18T04:34:00.000-03:30

Every morning I go through the same routine. I get ready like you do, and leave the apartment around 6:20am-6:30am. From there I always go straight to the gas station down the street. On my way in I pass the 6-8 kids waiting for the bus. On my way out, they are always gone, like they have been abducted while I was inside.

I am the only person that goes to this store that does not buy cigarettes. I always buy the same things. I pick up the Fudge Round, put it down, pick up the Snack Cakes, and put them back. I choose the Oatmeal Cream Pie, every day. Then I go to the pop cooler. I look at the Red Bull, look at the Mountain Dew Amped, open the cooler, and pick a Diet Mountain Dew, every day. Sure, it crosses my mind to buy a Orange Mountain Dew, but those don't come in diet there, so, it's always regular.

Also, everyday, I always seem to get in this impromptu mini footrace with some hick to get to the counter. We don't bust out into a sprint or anything. But we both know what's happening. It means more to him to win than me, so I let him have his little victory.

I saw a guy with an awesome freaking mullet and mustache this morning. I wished I had my digital camera, but it is broken right now. He drove off in a Grand Prix with three shades of primer on it.

The Indian guy at the counter has gotten to know me. The lottery scratch offs do very well there, but I don't bother with them. My Cream Pie and Mountain Dew cost $1.37. He rings it up before I can set my things down. I usually have exact change.

Then I'm off to work. As long as the stupid train isn't going by.

Where's My Stuff?

2005-11-15T23:53:00.000-03:30

Stuff of mine that has disappeared since getting a roomate:

-Large green bath towel

-Favorite hat

-Leftover "Rattlesnake Pasta" from Longhorn Steakhouse

-Kill Bill vol. 1 & 2

-Several bottles of shower gel

Stuff that hasn't disappeared, but could any day:

-Pet turtle

-Aqua Teen Hunger Force box set

-The chips and salsa I bought last night

Stuff that is probably safe:

-Any of my books

-Tweezers

-Scented candles

2 Quick Things

2005-11-15T09:54:00.000-03:30

I saw a sign today on the way to work. It was orange and said:

CAUTION:
RAISED MANHOLES

It made me laugh a little. I want to steal that sign.

Also, I think that Aqua Di Gio is becoming the next Drakkar.
Go for the Armania Mania.

Other Blogs

2005-11-15T02:57:00.000-03:30

I just decided to check out a blog recommended on the home page. I thought that PuppetVision Blog was a cool sounding name for a blog. But it turns out that it really is a blog about puppet vision. How lame.

E-Check Purgatory

2005-11-14T22:58:00.000-03:30

It all started when a deer decided to destroy my truck. I just saw a blur, and then airbag dust. It was a 5 point buck, the deputy told me, and I decided to take his word for it. So, I had to buy another truck, and this meant I had to go through E-Check.

E-Check, for lack of a better term, is the state's way of "sticking it in, and breaking it off." It's to make sure that your car or truck isn't personally destroying the ozone layer. Oh, those semis, buses, and dump trucks you see, those are exempt, but the 2004 Civic your neighbor is driving, it needs E-Checked.

I went to the station expecting the worst. Surley, pseudomechanics lay in wait to take advantage of your car, sticking things into it's tailpipe, snooping around the undercarriage, then taking your $19.50. My previous trips to the station had left me somewhat bitter about taking my time and money.

So, I'm 5th in line. There are 6 bays for cars, but for some reason they are only using one. "Great," I think to myself. After a few minutes, I decide to turn my truck off, defying the sign that asks me to keep my engine running while waiting. It's my way of sticking it to the man, I decide. Then, something amazing happens, they open up 4 other bays. "Break time must be over," I reason.

I am approached by a younger guy that I assume hates his job and everyone that drives though it. But, I am caught off guard by his politeness. He's pretty friendly, and checks my truck into the computer. I offer up the title that I had to haurange the dealership out of a couple of days earlier, but he just says, "I gotcha, man," and opens up the waiting room.

In the waiting room, I check out the people and try to match them up with their cars. It's turns out to not be that hard, because everyone is staring their car down like it may burst into flames any second. I see a Mexican guy with a Suzuki Sidekick, a old guy with his venerable Buick, and a young couple with a Cavalier that has a seat cover that says "Princess" on it.

We all pace back and forth like nervous parents to be. There is a tense vibe to the room. I didn't think that some of these cars would run, let alone pass some test. My prediction comes true when the Suzuki fails. I overhear the lady trying to tell the poor Mexican guy to give the thing a tune up and try again later. He's not quite sure what she is saying, and I remember thinking that if I only knew the spanish word for "sparkplug" I could save the day. But, I don't, so I didn't.

He's replaced by a Rastafarian none to happy about this "scam." He starts talking to me, and I join him in his class warfare. He thought that E-Check had ended. I told him that Kentucky had stopped doing it, then piled on by telling him that the guys in Columbus that came up with this program don't even have to abide by it. I see the look of suprise, then anger on his face. He decides that someone must be getting rich off this thing.

Just as I see the Cavalier Princess drive off victorious, I notice my truck being driven to the rollers, then over them completely. Turns out, my truck didn't even have to be driven. The computer figured that it would pass anyway, so it went it right through. Kind of a hollow victory, I figure.

The whole thing from start to finish took 24 minutes. As I am getting ready to drive off, I hear the Rasta Guy's test results. "Congratulations, sir. It's a Stratus."

The Balloon

2005-11-14T22:56:00.000-03:30

I was headed to the local Marsh grocery store to feed my Pac Man addiction when I happened across a balloon with a note attached to it.

I picked up the note and it read: "If found, call this number. Reward! Timmy" It was obviously a kids handwriting. But "Reward!" with an explanation point? This Timmy had to be serious. I figured anyone letting perfectly good helium balloons go must have some rich parents, so I brought the balloon and the attached note home with me.

I wondered how far the balloon had traveled. Whenever I had let go of a balloon it had soared into the stratosphere, gradually fading to a speck, and then gone. Just like the dozen or so kites I had lost because of a half assed knot I had tied onto the spool in my rush to get it into the air. Now I would know just how far a balloon can travel on it's own. Surely this Timmy was from several counties away.

My mom had me convinced that this Timmy was going to be my new best friend. We could become "pen pals", whatever that meant. As I dialed, I just thought of the reward. Money? Baseball cards? Balloons?

A lady answered. After she got Tim to the phone I told him that my name was Craig and that I had his balloon. He asked me where I found it. I told him near Marsh, and asked him where he had let it go. He said that his family had just enjoyed dinner at Ponderosa, and on the way out he released the balloon with the note. He did this about 20 feet from where I found it. We both agreed that the balloon had not gotten very far. I reminded him that there was still this little matter of a reward. Timmy told me that he wrote that on there just so that whoever found it would call him back, and that there was no reward.

After a pause, I hung up the phone on Timmy.

Enter As Often As You Like

2005-11-14T22:49:00.000-03:30

The 12 girls in the orange cowboy hats were heckling me.

They were the "Gator Getters." Girls hired by the University of Florida to show recruits around. There I was, standing at midcourt with 10,000 people staring at me, being heckled by girls in orange cowboy hats. I finally turned to look at them.. Turns out they weren't heckling me, they were shouting advice to me. Little did they realize, they were in for a special suprise. I had been practicing all week, and I didn't need their advice. The horn sounded, and I took off.

While in college, I worked in the bowels of the basketball stadium. The official name was the Stephen F. O'Connell Center. Everyone called it the O'Dome. I was chained to a desk at the entrance of the weightroom checking student ID's. Every once in a while they freed us so we could rack weights and go on 10 minute breaks. One day while walking around on my break, I was lured upstairs by the smell of nacho cheese. They were getting ready for a basketball game that night. That's when I spotted the pile of entry forms stacked next to the drawing box. I looked both ways, and grabbed about 200 of them.

At halftime of all the home basketball games they drew a name of a student. If this student could make a layup, a free throw, a three pointer, and a half court shot all in 30 seconds, getting their own rebounds, they could walk away with $10,000. Mostly, they walked off the court to a chorus of boos. I saw people even miss the layup. I booed them myself. I was now filling out about 200 entry forms to get my shot.

All week I had been practicing the routine at the basketball court behind my apartment. My hand ached from filling out the forms, but the next game was coming up, and I wanted to be ready. My roomate came snooping around to see why I had taken a sudden interest in basketball. After hearing my plot, he agreed to come to the game for support.

I wore sweatpants, basketball shoes and a t-shirt to the big game. Auburn was coming to town, and I was ready. I stuffed 4 boxes with 50 or so entries, found my seat and waited. They call the name with about 5 minutes to go in the half. As the time got close, I started getting nervous. Really nervous. Finally, the big moment, I look at my roomate, they call my name.

I couldn't feel my legs as I walked down to the court. My heart was racing. What had I done now. I showed the girl my student ID and waited. I looked up at the scoreboard. We were losing. I asked the girl if I could hold on to the ball. She said, "No, that's not allowed." I said "I'm not allowed to hold the ball?" She said "Nope," without looking away from the game.

Standing at half court, I noticed that the line was much further from the basket than the line at my apartment. The "Dazzlers" were bouncing around me, performing their halftime show. The horn sounded, and I took off running. What was the advice the Gator Getters had? Don't dribble. I tucked the ball under my arm as I ran towards the hoop. I heard them give a little cheer.

The layup nearly rimmed out, but dropped through. I heard a smattering of applause. I ran to the free throw line, let it go and it went in. I heard a little more applause. I knew as soon as I let go of the three point shot I knew it was going in. As I picked the ball up and ran towards the half court line, I saw 13 seconds on the clock. I could really hear the crowd now. I took a deep breath, backed up and made a running shot. As soon as I let it go I could tell it was heading left. It had the distance, and must have looked better from the stands, because I could hear a collective "Oooh!" from the crowd when it missed. They gave me an honest ovation, and I heard "Sign him up!" several times.

The stingy girl with the ball was now my friend. She ran up to me and patted me on the back and told me how exciting it was. Then she handed me Pizza Hut gift certificates and a voucher for any pair of Reebok shoes I wanted, unless they were the new "Pumps" that had just come out. All that for making the other shots.

I know this is long. I know you don't believe me. I tried to get a tape of the finest athletic moment of my life to prove that this really did happen. The sports info guy said he had half of it on tape, and to pick it up next week. When I stopped by, he regretted to inform me that the camcorder had been stolen at the Mississippi State game, and it had my tape in it.