Thursday, July 28, 2011

I blame possums this time.


Since my last post had some vague response from Donald about possums and was probably just a subtle hint to go to his blog ( to see his post about a possum, I decided to tell my possum story. We've not had Storytime here in a while so sit back and relax while I unfold this cornucopia of characterization.

Many years ago at my parents' house my dogs were barking like crazy people so I went outside to scope out the problem. My years of deduction training kicked in as I looked up the tree they were gathered around and I found the possum clinging to the end of a small branch that was swaying like a drunken tax collector ("sailor" was too easy and this is mainly for Don anyway).

The dogs made it clear that this problem would not be quietly resolved so I did what I had to do. I crawled right up the tree after it with a chunk of firewood and a Concealed Chunk of Firewood License and banged on the limb enough until the raging rodent fell to the ground with a thud and was immediately attacked by the incorrigible canines.

I jumped down as quickly as possible and got the dogs off of the animal but it was obviously too late. Bleeding profusely, the unclean critter had probably died before he hit the ground. So, I reached down to grab him by the tail and was going to just throw him over the fence when the spirit of Satan himself inhabited the corpse and, still on its back, that beast hissed at me and showed me its tiger-proud teeth and claws like a sasquatch but it was the eyes that scared me the worst. Neon red, glowing and spinning and shooting molten lava from some other dimension of space, those eyes...eyes that had obviously been crafted at the workshop of master demons in a lake of burning sulphur, those eyes left scorched real estate in my soul.

It was fight or flight and I commenced to fighting for my life. All I could see were those devil eyes as I pummeled that mangled mercenary marsupial with my firewood chunk. Over and over I wailed on the beast until those cursed eyes finally closed to open no more. Breathless but as victorious as a brave knight battling a dragon for the honor of a princess, I stood over what was left of the motionless wreck of an animal. Had the chunk been a sword I would have cut off its head and paraded it around the back yard on a pike but instead I just kicked it a few more times, partly to make sure it was really dead and partly out of disgust. I then grabbed it by the tail and swung it over the fence.

I threw it over the fence because we had an electric fence to keep the dogs out and it was a hassle to undo. So after I hurled it over I just went through the house where the dogs were now giving me high fives and making up songs about my heroics. Humbly accepting their worship I moved into the front yard and then over to the side of the house where the beast was sure to be laying, fertilizing the St. Augustine with its lifeblood, but no! It was gone! A crimson trail marked the path to the neighbors...and beyond.

My counselor says the nightmares will someday end. It is, of course, the reason that I can no longer hold a real job. My wife left me a short 15 years later. Friends and family have been patient but most assume it's all in my head but it's not in my head! It is the EYES! THE EYES!!!

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

I blame Angry Birds

So, like, dude, there I was. Minding my own business. Playing a quick game of Angry Birds as I rode along. I had my skunk helmet on and everything so you know I was being careful when all of the sudden this crazy broad in a minivan pulls out right in front of me! I was just about to beat that level with the different kinds of birds at night in the city, you know? Dude, that rocks! Anywho, so like this chick pulls out and I slam into the back of her van. Next thing I know we're pulling into her driveway or something and I'm like, "Dude, hey lady bro! Take me back to my bike, man!" And she's like, screaming and stuff when she finally sees me. I guess she's never seen a skunk helmet before. That's how it happened.

Back in the good ol days

Back in the good ol days I would have posted something about this article ( but done it from the viewpoint of me being the teacher or principal. I could have had a a good time making fun of people from West Virginia, school teachers and meth heads all in one post. There would have been jokes about the teachers' lounge, how nobody in WV wears shoes and maybe even some witty commentary on the state of schools in general. But, no, I'm not going to do that. I've learned my lesson. I don't want to get any more phone calls, comments and emails asking me, "Were you really a teacher in West Virginia? Are you really addicted to meth? Where is the link to this other website you're talking about?" Nope, I'll never do that again.

Thursday, July 14, 2011

2 years ago

Two years ago this week I woke up in the hospital in the middle of Nowhere, Utah with a broken leg.

It was the end of the best motorcycle trip of my life even if you factor in the hospital stay (that I almost have paid off). I met some interesting people, saw flora and fauna to dream about and learned a lot about myself.

I also learned a little something about the ex-princess on my visit. She said it would be ok if I missed her birthday but only if I brought her back something good. I guess she should have defined "good" as expensive and blingy (and redundant) because my definition of "good" was a beautiful flower that I had picked from the side of the highest passable mountain in Colorado. I had to climb over a sign that said "Do not cross. Danger". I then leaned over the side of a cliff and picked the most incredible yellow flower and managed to keep it intact even through the crash. It was the first thing I checked on when I woke up. I think she actually threw it away in the hospital trash can.

I got rid of all my cool stuff shortly after that. Between her and the bills she left me with, I couldn't keep the bike, the boots, the guns, the TV, etc, etc. But of all the stuff I lost, I miss that Honda Shadow the most. Good times.

Monday, July 04, 2011

New blog for the church

I just now got around to making a new blog for our church at FBC Runaway Bay. I just got it set up and I'm still playing with it but here is the rough draft: Let me know what you think.