TRIBUTE TO A FRIEND

You may be wondering why I'm posting another pic of my ugly mug on here. This pic is the most important one I have, not because of the subject matter, but because of the person who took it. You see, this pic was taken of me by a friend of mine named Tony Barr.

Tony was a couple years behind me in school, so we only had a couple classes together. We were in the marching band, though, so we spent a lot of time together and became pretty good friends. We went all the way to Harper's Ferry (WV) for one band trip sometime around my junior year. The band people decided to have us stay there overnight so we could do some sightseeing, so we went to a motel. By sheer coincidence, Tony and I were paired up to share the same room. My best memory of that night was watching some weird show on ESPN2 where these people ran these junker cars over a ramp to see how many times they could get the car to flip. I happened to have a camera with me, and he decided he wanted to take a pic of me. I forget how our discussion went, but it must've been something like this:

TONY: Why don't you stand on your bed, and I'll take a pic of you while I'm lying on the floor.

ME: Uh... OK.

The rest is history. They even used that picture in the school yearbook, but the people who used it made up this stupid caption which had nothing to do with what actually happened.

Tony killed himself a couple years ago. I don't want to speculate as to why, because I know I don't have all the answers. What I do know is that I still think of him a lot. Another thing I'll remember about him is that he got me to read the book “A Clockwork Orange”. Those of you that know me and my eclectic reading tastes would probably think that I might've read that book even if he hadn't given me a push in that direction, but the fact that he did still means a lot to me after all these years. I can't read that book or even see it sitting on the shelves at the library without thinking about him and smiling.

Tony's brother Chris (who I've previously talked about) has set up 17 Minutes as a tribute to him, and to bring awareness to the fact that someone commits suicide every 17 minutes. If you or someone you love has thought of, attempted, or committed suicide, check it out. He has links on that page that might help you.

Also, if you need someone to talk to, I'm here. Send me an e-mail or leave a comment. If you want to call me, I'll give you my phone number. As someone who has problems with depression and who has seriously considered suicide, I know that having someone to talk to and to support you means everything. I know for a fact that if it wasn't for Josh and all my other friends, I wouldn't be here.

RANDOMONIUM

I'm just gonna ramble on about some random things I've been thinking about lately. If you're like me and have a short attention span, then this is the post for you.

• Did any of you ever have to deal with milk in a bag while you were in school? Apparently, it's not a new concept. There's footage of Norm trying to rip open a bag with his teeth in the opening credits of “A Hard Day's Night”. Our school board started buying it instead of milk in the regular carton because it was cheaper. The downside is that it's almost impossible to put a straw in the bag. It's like trying to harpoon a jellyfish with a wet noodle. Not surprisingly, they stopped buying it after I graduated.
• My friend Chris came down to WV this past weekend. It was the first time I'd seen him since he moved up to Buffalo, NY to see if there was actually any place colder than West Virginia in the winter (and to get his master's). Josh & I met him and his g/f Andrea at Bob Evans (which, apparently, Josh had been going to since it was named Robert Evans). We had a nice meal and chatted a while before Chris had to make the long-ass drive back home. Can't wait to do it again, guys.
• Whenever Josh & I play cards, one of the games we play is called ERS (short for Egyptian Rat Screw, although I don't want to know why). Here's how ya play:
  
  1. The full deck of cards gets dealt to however many people are playing. It's OK to play with just 2 people, but it's a lot of fun when you get more than that.
  
  2. The first person to play takes the first card off their stack and plays it. (DON'T look at your cards!) The next person follows, and so on, etc.
  
  3. If someone plays a face card, then the next person has to play a certain number of cards corresponding to the face card. Aces get 4 cards, Kings get 3, Queens get 2, and Jacks get 1. If you lay down a face card before you get to that number, then it's the next person's turn.
  
  4. Here's the fun part: If someone lays down a card and the next person lays down a card of the same rank, the first person to slap the cards gets the whole stack.
  
  This goes on until someone has all the cards. When you play with multiple people and you run out of cards, it's legal to slap a double and get back in the game. This makes things very unpredictable, even though you see all the cards at one point in the game. The last time Josh and I played, we had an epic battle. I was down to two cards at one point in the game, but I came back and beat him. (Jacks will save you every time.)

Well, that's all I can think of for now. I had a lot more planned, but I forgot most of it. Oh well. I'll think of more when I post again next month or whenever. ;-)

RUB OUT

     For those of you that have been waiting for another post, here it is. I've had a bit of problem with writer's block lately, so I thought I'd poot forth something that I've already written. I wrote this after reading a book by an author I can't remember (Neal Stephenson, maybe). I got a couple ideas for situations from things that really happened to me, and threw in some sly pop-culture references. Hope ya dig it.
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     Sometimes I get so disgusted with humanity that I don't want to get out of bed in the morning. Everywhere I turn, I see nerds, posers, and downright sickos, and that's just in my own family. I haven't had any meaningful contact with the opposite sex in so long that I feel like I'm still a virgin. Everywhere I go, people avoid me like I have 3 eyes or something. I wonder how they'd react to me if they knew I was an assassin.
     Yeah, yeah. I know. You don't believe me, but it's the truth. I know 500 ways to kill someone (501, if you count boring them to death). The reason you've never heard of me is that I've never killed anyone high-profile.  Instead, I usually go for the little people who've done the most harm (abusive spouses, corrupt county judges, and the like).  I don't know who hires me, and I never know who I'm going after until the day I do the job. There are worse ways to make a living, I guess. The hours aren't bad, I get to travel, and I can finally get all my pent-up anger and frustration out in a constructive manner, instead of smashing household appliances.
     It's odd, though. I make a (damn good) living killing people, yet if I see a good-looking girl walking down the street, I turn into a stammering, simpering idiot. My knees give out, and my normally razor-sharp wit is reduced to such pithy comments as “So, how long have you been on the choo-choo?”  I can't even ask for directions or the time of day without losing my cool. How fucking lame can you get?
     It wasn't always this bad, though. I actually had a girlfriend for a couple months, but she cheated on me while I was at a family reunion. It took me forever to get my stuff back, and she still has a couple of my movies. I had a one-night stand a year or so ago, but that went so badly that I haven't even had the urge to have another one. Here's what happened:
      I had just finished a job (a drug dealer who was selling poisoned drugs, I think), and I was feeling really lonely, so I decided to go to a local bar and go two-legged dear hunting. I usually don't go to bars because I can't stand watching people get drunk, but I felt like getting a little buzz to help me forget my problems.
     When I walked in the door, I saw this amazingly good-looking girl sitting by herself at a table. (You want to know what she looked like? OK. Remember the red-headed girl from that one cheerleading movie that was kinda popular a few years back? She looked like her, only better, if you can believe it.) I sat down down next to her and asked her why she was sitting all alone. She looked up at me and started talking about how her boyfriend just broke up with her and blah blah blah. We started talking, and after a few drinks, I got enough balls (or a high enough blood-alcohol level) to ask her if she wanted to come back to my place.
     When we got there, we started making out and stuff. She tried to give me a blowjob and almost choked. (I didn't think I was that big.) After she was done, she let me lick and finger her pussy for a while. After a couple minutes of drunken experimentation, I found her G-spot. As soon as I started rubbing it, she started cumming. Hard. She started shaking like she was trying to start her own earthquake, and she got so wet that she totally soaked my new sheets. If someone would've walked by my room, they would've thought I was killing her because her screams were so loud. (I think I still have some residual hearing problems.)
     For some odd reason, when she started getting off, I started laughing, and I couldn't stop. For a while, she laughed too, but as I went on, she started getting more and more pissed off. Finally, she got so mad that she gathered up all her clothes, flipped me off, and walked out the door. I didn't stop laughing until I realized she was gone. Later, I realized that she had walked out the door naked, and I started laughing again.  The next day, I heard on TV that she was in jail for indecent exposure and what one famous comedian would call “drunk in publick”. Sucks to be her, I guess.
     Now, the only relationship I'm in is with the co-host of this one video game show I always watch whenever I'm not on a job. Too bad she doesn't know I exist. My right hand does, though, and that's all that matters.

SHUT UP N PLAY YER CD

So you're looking for a new CD, and you don't know what to get. There are so many choices out there, and (quite frankly) most of them are crap. If you want something different (i.e., good), check these out. Your ears will be glad you did.

• Beastie Boys – Paul's Boutique

This has to be the best rap CD I've ever heard. Every song is amazing, and it was made before you had to get permission to use samples, so everything from Curtis Mayfield to the Beatles to the reenk-reenk-reenk from “Psycho” pops up. “Shake Your Rump” and “Hey Ladies” are both classics, and the video for “Shadrach” is still one of the coolest. If you like rap, you must get this for your CD collection. It's gotta be a law somewhere. If it's not, it should be.

• Helmet – Betty

The ultimate sleeper CD. If you showed the cover to someone who wasn't familiar with the CD, they'd think it was some stupid 70s love song pop crap 40 year old women get busy to. Instead, they'd get their eardrums blown out by some of the loudest, hardest, best music the 90s had to offer. If they would've been based out of Seattle, they probably would've gotten as much press as Nirvana or any of the other grunge bands. I got my copy at a flea market for $1, but I'd gladly pay full price for it.

• Frank Zappa – Shut Up 'n Play Yer Guitar

Do you like guitar solos? Do you like rhythm sections so funky and complex you'd think the drummer had 3 arms? Well, kiddies, this 3 CD set is for you. I'd gladly give my left nut to be able to play the way Frank did. Every time I listen to stuff like “five-five-FIVE” and “Variations on the Carlos Santana Secret Chord Progression”, I still wince with disbelief. If you know someone who still thinks FZ was the biggest pothead around, play this for them and ask them how he could play any of these songs this well while he was high.