Hey, try this...

Another guest post from a non-blogger... Subject? Well, Mad Munkey of course. :-)

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Whoo Hoo The Mad Munkey, MM, Mad Munk, Fumbalaya, Fulbleruski... wait. I got sidetracked, sorry.. So, MM has asked me to also guest post on who he is to me. How in the world can I sum that up? Well, I can't, so I'll talk about how we got to know each other. I first met him riding bicycles to help raise money for local AIDS Charities. A group of us would meet on Tuesday nights after work and ride some hills. Up one side, down the other. Then, for your reward you got to do it 5 times in a row to complete a single lap. And if you felt up to it, you could do as many (or as few) laps as you wanted. ahhhhh But the true reward was eating the best subs on the planet afterward. That's where I truly got to know MM.

A group of about 8 of us got to be regulars at this sub place. We'd go ride 10-20 miles of hills, then sit outside the deli and eat and talk and watch the world go by. We'd talk about things related to the Ride we were training for, we'd talk about work, we'd talk about what we were going to do after our big ride and no longer had to train. The highlight of the evening would be at 9:01. Just _after_ the deli had closed and locked their door. We'd watch as people would tear ass into the parking lot in their car, screech into a parking spot, jump out and walk up to the door. They'd pull the door handle and the door wouldn't budge. So, they'd pull again. The same way they'd push the elevator button after someone else has already pressed it. "Maybe that first try didn't 'take' or something. I'll try again.". Still the door wouldn't budge. Then they'd look at the hours sign on the door, then look at their watch and get the most dejected look on their face.

The Ride came and went. But we missed each other. So we'd email each other. "Hey, it's 95 out and the dew point is around 73. There's no breeze to speak of, but I was considering riding Hills tonight. You interested?" "You bet. See ya at 6:15" Granted, after the Ride, the number of laps people were riding dropped off considerably, and the dinner after got to be longer and longer. It was a family.

Then winter came. The time changed and no one was able to get any laps in before it was pitch black. School started back for some, and others got different jobs that required more time. The family started to drift apart. Now, instead of close brothers and sisters, we were like distant cousins who'd see each other at Christmas.

Excpept for MM. He and I kept finding other things to do together outside of riding. We'd grab dinner somewhere else. We'd help each other move. We'd bring beer/wine to each other's place for dinner. There's something about him that keeps sucking you back in. Always wanting more. First one's free dontcha know...

Oh we still ride. When we're riding that is. Unfortunately, my bike is broken into 2 pieces at the moment and I just got married, so time to go look for a new bike is in short supply. Every time I call him, he's like "you calling to go look at bikes?" "uhhhh no, actually, can I borrow your Jeep to move some furniture?"

Four eyes

MM through my(opic) eyes…
When I met MM, I didn’t like him. He said something that immediately clicked in my head, “This primate will be trouble.” Steely, Quixotic, Stoic, Opinionated, High Maintanance.

[Time progresses here as do interactions with MM]

Years later still I know “This primate will be trouble.”
Still Steely but more so shy – Pygmy Marmoset
Still Quixotic but more toward Imaginative – Chimpanzee
Still Stoic but more like reserved – Old Orangutan
Still Opinionated but not blindly, he listens, observes, weighs, reviews, questions, discusses - Human
What new have we discovered about this primate:
Can inspire – an idea, an thought, a design, a paragraph, a desire to beat him about the head and neck with a small woodland creature
With a word, can convey volumes
Can make you so enraged, you could just spit
Can surprise and on rare occasion can be surprised revealing each time a new primate to know
Creature of habit yet adapts sometimes not as quickly as he should

Next week on “Primates of the Internet” we’ll visit the nemesis of MM (Hominidae Metromanitous) and learn about the eating and socialization habits of the Hominidae Protobuttheadtidon, also know as the Common Single Man. Known for its unkempt habits and regular misuse of the females in the pack, we’ll delve in to see why this species continues to thrive.

A guest speaker...

Ok, so the Mad Munkey himself asked me if I wanted to do a guest post on his blog. I was flattered and scared as hell to go up along with his writing - you´ve read it... those are some really big shoes to fit! So, after much thought, I humbly accepted. Then there was part 2. What would I write about? I mean he has his particular audience that wants to hear his thoughts. And enjoy doing so (and I am included on that myself). So the pressure was on...
 
So I started wondering about that whole blogging experience. And how you come here to get inside someone elses´s mind. Should that be considered modern day voyerism? How does that affect your own mindset? What do we look for when we go to people´s blogs to read about their life? Is it a escape from reality? How does someone elses´s reality and thoughts affect your own daily life?  And even further, how do you get into the mind of someone that you usually haven´t met in real life? The whole online thing is really weird if you think about it. I mean, you can go to this blog from Japan or Egypt, or wherever and experience a whole new mindset in just a click of a button. And I´m not saying pictures and such. I´m talking about real thoughts, worries, fears, desires and a whole different mindset than you´re used to.
 
Here you are reading this guy´s blog. You read his writing, his poems, his dilemmas, hell, you even know this guy´s grocery list. And you like it. As many do, as seen in the comments left. Some think "Hey, that´s one way to look at that situation", or, "Hey, this is something I would like to hear or say myself sometime". I´m sure that´s been discussed over and over, the whole "voyerism" thing. But it´s weird exposing yourself for the whole cyberworld to see. And better yet. Put a link in there to comment on it. For better or worse. It´s like being naked in front of a crowd. Do we have this need to reach out and see that we are just as normal - or weird - as other people? Does that help us deal better with our own reality? To find our own place in this crazy world?
 
I think it does. But hey, that´s me. And that´s what´s so beautiful about this blogging thing. You can agree, disagree, go to another blog, or click on this little comment button right there and speak your mind. Hope you liked it. As for me, I think I´m gonna put my clothes back on and get off stage...

A feat? or a feast?

OK, I think I'm set for my own private Thanksgiving feast tomorrow. I have two cornish hens, potatoes, dinner rolls, egg nog (and spiced rum), a baster, a meat thermometer, kosher salt, seasonings, unsalted butter, etc... you get the idea.

So here is the thing. Why doesn't the store have a little section with everything you need in one place? OK, that's too broad. I mean the basics for a Thanksgiving meal. Croutons for stuffing, basters, thermometers, etc... They could even call it the Thanksgiving Virgin section. I realize it's near faux pas that I'm not making a turkey, but perhaps I'll do that for christmas (although I'm eyeing Guinea Hen for that meal). Either way, I think it's impressive that I'm breaking my own Dominoes tradition and making fowl to begin with.

I'm wondering how many people out there actually buy fresh turkey? I read an article recently that they are trying to revive several breeds of turkeys in North America for our markets. These would be best fresh. but I understand the lure of Butterball turkey's. Pre-injected. Pre set in a cooking bag even. Pop in the oven and cook the thing down. Make gravy and serve. Or something like that. Riiiight.

Wish me luck. But save the true luck for the drunk guys that plan on frying their turkey and are going to burn down the house tomorrow. Peace.

And you thought your night was bad

So, amongst my myriad of regularly scheduled strange dreams last night, I had a particularly memorable one. I ate a bumper off the front of a car. Yes. Let me just say that again. I ate the bumper off the front of a car. It as strange for me to type as it is for you to read. Trust me on this one.

It's not like a saw came out of no-where and the the bumper got hacked to bits before it was turned into cuisine with a nice clam sauce or something. It was like Monster Munch. Snarf. One bite and a huge piece was missing. Snarf, snarf... The whole bumper was chewed off with the exception of where the license plate hangs.

Surprisingly, my apparent ability to unhinge my jaw and produce fangs that can rend and tear a bumper off a car wasn't the only odd thing. As the dream progressed, I began to worry about how exactly I would get the sharp pieces of fiberglass (?) out of my body. I could see jagged edges distending my stomach.

Now, I've dabbled a tiny bit in dream meanings, but if anyone has ANY idea what this means, I'm all ears. Now, back to your regularly scheduled blogging.

Parking spot gifted

Seriously. I'm sure you've all driven around for hours looking for a parking space. I haven't. I always find good parking spaces close to the door I wish to enter. Picture yourself driving up to make an aisle choice... If you pick right, you might get lucky and actually score a space. now picture that it doesn't matter. A space will materialize for you. I swear, people probably come out to the parking lot looking for their car and end up calling the police because their car isn't there anymore. It doesn't matter what time of day, the season. Nothing. I will score a parking space right where I want it to be. Going shopping? Give me a call. I'll get you right down front. Now, will that be VISA or Mastercard?

I'm sorry...

OK, I hate to do this, but today you have read the wrong blog... Why, you ask?

'Cuz I have this song stuck in my head and I'm giving the gift to you. Pretty soon, it'll be stuck in your head. Enjoy the countdown.

99 bottles of beer on the wall. 99 bottles of beer. Take one down, pass it around. 98 bottles of beer on the wall. 98 bottles of beer on the wall. 98 bottles of beer. Take one down, pass it around. 97 bottles of beer on the wall. 97 bottles of beer on the wall. 97 bottles of beer. Take one down, pass it around. 96 bottles of beer on the wall. 96 bottles of beer on the wall. 98 bottles of beer. Take one down, pass it around. 95 bottles of beer on the wall.

Well, you get the idea. Enjoy... Bwahahahaha

First sight

I have a wizard tattooed on my forearm. You've seen it. It was an HNT Post last month. I've had this tattoo for about 7 years. Tonight I noticed it for the first time. It was looking at me in the mirror. I'm not a paranoid person, nor am I given to flights of fancy. Imagination, yes. Fancy, no.

It was almost as though the face wished to speak to me. A face filled with wisdom, prescience, and piercing accusation faced me in the mirror. I had no reaction, no instant quelling of non-reality. I looked in the eyes of this being. I felt judgment, whimsy and sadness. What madness befalls me? What joke of the gods brings forth this demon in my skin?

I know in my mind that the ink in my skin lies inert. Dead to everything beyond imagination. Placed there not by a practitioner of the dark arts or even magic. A piece created by a master of his art. Alien fantasy brought to life in living skin. The message clear, but hazed with expectation and fear. Do you see? Do you?

My rock

On my desk I have a large river stone. Etched deeply into this stone is a chinese character that symbolizes Tranquility. It's too big to be a paperweight and too heavy to really use for anything. Technically, I think it's supposed to go in the garden. I don't have a garden. So, it sits on my desk amidst the beds of cables and wires that make my desk the communications hub that it is.

It's a little incongruous with all that technology to have a stone that is smoothed by millions of years of water and etched with a language I can't read. Or speak for that matter. It's a simple gray rounded river stone. Nothing special. No 'Hey, look at me.' factor. So, why is it there? Instant tranquility... drop rock on head? The lump later would be simply amazing. Maybe I'll set it outside my door and see how long it takes to get stolen.

Fresh apples

Dear single male shopper:

We know you think that you can get past the college days of Ramen noodles and Kraft mac-n-cheese, but seriously take a look at your last grocery bill.















ORG GREEN GRAPES - 7.66
SLD SPRING MIX - 6.99
MANCHEGO 6 MO - 5.46
GRAN SMITH ORGANIC - 4.32
NIMAN DRY SALAMI - 5.99
70% BELLETOILE (BRIE) - 6.81
B&J ICE CREAM STRAW - 3.67
CZECHVAR LAGER - 9.99
ORG FRNCH BAGUETTE - 1.99
TAX - 1.57
TOTAL - 54.45

If you can make a meal out of that, we'll generously kiss your ass. Not on the right, not on the left, but, right in the middle. Look, you just paid nearly $8 for 2 pounds of grapes. Not to mention the seven bucks for goat food (read greens). By volume, your imported beer is a bargain in comparison (at least you know that will make you FEEL good). Look, we aren't trying to discourage you from shopping with us, but we just want to be honest with you. Until you score the girl and have someone to feed, you really don't need us do you? Best of luck in your future shopping endeavors.

Trunk Munkey World

I actually had a tear in my eye from laughing so hard as I watched these commercials for Suburban Auto Group. Aptly named Trunk Monkey World. No direct relation.

Dear party goer

This isn't a rant. It's an observation of human behavior. Really. Why is it that when you go to party and you bring beer ('cuz you know that everyone brings shitty beer) that is actually good that everyone wants to drink it instead of whatever they brought (or even didn't bring 'cuz they are socially inept)? I am totally not understanding this concept. Why not just get a T-shirt to wear that says, "I'm a cheap bastard."? Really.

If you want to drink good beer when you go to a party, it's commonly known manners that you bring a gift to the host anyway, why not bring a 6 pack of beer as well. Or even at the bare minimum? For everyone who didn't know you are supposed to bring a gift when you attend a party... Now you do. You've seen these people at parties. They arrive empty handed and then paw through the beer cooler or fridge looking for the best thing to drink. Tonight it just happened to be my $10 a 6 import.

See, I'm a beer snob. I hate cheap beer (unless I buy it for some reason). Like perhaps to go to a party with a bunch of cheap bastard's. But why should I suffer and drink cheap beer when I don't have to? Did I expect to drink the whole 6? No, I had to drive home. See, I told you it wasn't a rant. But it's funny observing people paw through all the beer and then decide to take the most expensive one. I guess you could say that people want the good stuff, but aren't willing to pony up for it.

I find this particularly strange since a beer out costs $5-7 (or more) where I live and at a club drinks are even more expensive. So, for the cost of one drink out, you can't afford to stop by the store on your way to the party and pick up a decent beer? I want a party with name tags. Not with names, but the beverage you brought. I can see it now. Coors light. Bud light. Corona. Etc... If you see people with these tags walking around drinking Eggenberg, Pilsner Urquell, Arrogant Bastard Ale, Czechvar or other beers they can't pronounce, I think you should be able to kick their ass. Verbally or physically. After all, they are nothing better than a common beer thief. Who's with me?

Cup o' Joe

So, I'm 10 days into the no caffeine life. Very odd sometimes. I have this mental craving for Mt. Dew. I was never a huge coffee freak so that's only a mild craving. No cup o' joe for me. Well, not today anyway. I know people that can't survive without it. I'll admit. After being on it, I can certainly understand. But my post today is about the origin of calling coffee Joe.

Java, the American slang word for coffee quite simply is a reference to the island of Java, where coffee beans are grown. The term dates to 1850.

The term joe, also meaning coffee, is of uncertain origin. It is found as early as 1930. The first recorded use is in an underworld slang dictionary. Shortly after that, starting in 1931, there appear a number of uses of the term in US military sources. Joe is most likely an alteration of java. The 1931 Reserve Officer's Manual suggests that the term is derived from a combination of java and mocha.

US Naval folklore has it that the term is from the name of Josephus Daniels, who was secretary of the navy under Woodrow Wilson. Daniels abolished the officers' wine mess and US Navy ships after that were completely dry (the sailors' rum ration had been abolished decades before). Supposedly, US Naval officers started calling their coffee joe because it was the strongest thing that Joe Daniels let them drink on board. There is no real evidence to support this tale though. While some of the early uses are from the US military, the earliest known uses are not.

Another tale is that it is from the Stephen Foster tune Old Black Joe, which was a popular song in the 1880s. But again there is no real evidence. The song is not about coffee, but rather about an old ex-slave named Joe.

Where have I really been?

I've spent some time rereading bits of my blog. Sometimes in large sections, sometimes just a few lines.

Here are some snippets of things that have caught my eye:

May 25, 2005

I always wonder about the small things in our lives that cause us pleasure. How is a smile derived overnight from a particular source? Simply opening ones mind to these kinds of things doesn't seem quite enough, but I'm willing to accept it at this point. After a long time of not really smiling, it's the little things that seem to matter the most. The source of my smile shall remain private, but I'll acknowledge it nonetheless.

May 24, 2005

It's past midnight. I'm walking through the empty streets of Paris with nary a clue where I'm going. Amidst the walking, I realize that the call of nature is very strong. Several hours on the ET, dinner, water before, during and after... It's common for people to use the side of a building here... I think the one smell I will take away from Paris the the smell of urine. I think about using a building several times. Once I almost break and do it... I walk 20 feet further down the building and see a sign... It's the Egyptian Embassy. Now THAT would have been priceless.

May 23, 2005

As I've said before, my goal is to try new things - push my own boundaries if you will. Running to the easy choice on the menu leads you to the same experiences over & over. I can understand the attraction that trying the same thing again and again holds. I'm as guilty as anyone for establishing patterns in my own life.

June 28, 2005

Did you step outside your comfortable little world today? Did you look at something you've seen a million times with fresh eyes? Come on - put your hands out in front of you... what do you see? Where do you go? (Note: this goes back to a previous post.) You hold the power within your own mind to be wherever you desire... so why let yourself be miserable?

July 26, 2005

“Since the RHD isn’t there, and you brought the situation to our attention, I have to tell you that I think Elizabeth is going to try to take her life tonight.”

July 19, 2005

Reach out and touch someone with your words today. You never know what kind of impact you’ll really have. It’s an itch you can scratch every day. Make someone feel good for no reason other than you care.

Transference

Your words soothe my mind.
Your presences calms my spirit.
Your touch envelops my body.
Your desire burns my soul.
Your energy burgeons my strength.
Your reality echoes into my fantasy.
Your hopes render into my dreams.
Your passion ripples through my heart.
Your wish becomes my command.

10 blogs you'll never see (I hope)

Cockblogger - The blog of a cockblocker, but only on blogs. This blogger would call out anyone they see hitting on another blogger or intentionally get in the way of any blogger they sense is getting close to a score. They would then document it on their blog.

The history of my ass - A daily journal of, well, that which leaves it. 'Nuff said.

The Snot Monologues - A photo journalistic approach to documenting the masses that come out of their nostrils. With side notes on environmental concerns of the day and other external olfactory factors.

Condomania - 1001 uses for condoms other than as a prophylactic device. (If anyone can think of any, let us know.)

Oral Fixations - A guide to helping your girlfriend develop one or enhance the one she already has.

Pretty WoMan - A 30-day program for women to turn their man into their best girlfriend. Make-up, shopping and heels included.

Alternative means - A guide to improvised dildos and other sex toys from household, garden and even garage implements.

Homo Klaus - True stories of Santa and the elves at play...

Horny Devil - A man's guide to halloween costumes that will actually get him laid. (Who am I kidding, I'd like to find that blog and take copious notes.)

Mealdigger - An official woman's guide to never paying for a drink or dinner and staying thin eating steak & lobster every night. A man's unofficial guide to identifying and avoiding all the women that read it and think the meals are really free.

Osculate

the look into each others eyes. the pause. the magnetism that brings us closer. wet lips. soft. moving just right. tongues connecting. electric. hands in your hair. hand on your neck and cheek. feeling your pulse. teasing your earlobe with my finger.

Penthouse Pauper

I'd try to be clever and write this post with all the song names and lyrics worked into it, but I'm too tired. The evening started with a 70 minute set from Lenny Kravitz and was elevated into my personal Rock Memorial Hall of Fame by a 2 hour set by Aerosmith. For ancient guys, they still rock. They just move a little slower. Steven's voice is starting to go, but he still hit Dream On like a champ. The set consisted of their classic for the most part. Stuff you know and jam to when you hear it. There were a few songs not included that I sorely missed including Walkin' the Dog and Dude (looks like a lady).

The really interesting thing was audience. Of course there was the obligatory acrid scent of a doobie in the air that makes your nostrils flare, but as a non smoking arena, I have to say it was nice to not smell like a chimney when I left. The audience was mostly older people 9some with kids in tow). I guess this is why most of the set was older music, it's the stuff we know. And the kids, well... they are kids.

I've also noticed a change in concerts since I was a teenager/college student. They are less wild. The security is a lot more vigilant and the audiences aren't as rowdy. Perhaps I need to see a Green Day show or something equivalent to see if kids still rock. But then I'd be the proverbial 'old guy'. lol It's not that I'm old, but I saw 40+ year olds trying to be 'hot rock mamas'... ewww. (I'm sure there are exceptions...)

What is it about me?

I can't speak to the 'something about me'. I can tell you that in person many people find me seemingly able to look right through them. I've also found throughout my life that people will tell me every secret and every skeleton they have. Without me asking... the stuff just seems to roll out of them. It could even be the first day I met them. It still happens. It shocks people.

"I can't believe I just told you that." I can't either, but I'm not surprised. I won't say I've heard it all, but I've heard a lot. Many of the themes are similar which is still a surprise. But, the actual content. Not so much.

I'm never certain what it is that people see in me that makes that happen. Never have, probably never will. Some would call it a gift, some would call it a curse. I accept it as part of my life. Simple is. Simple does.

There are a lot of cheezy internet blog tests out there... see my death below for comparison. This is a real personality test. It costs money. (Very little.) I'm not getting a kick back. Take the test...

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Update - In June I attended a creative conference. One of the vendors had a paper bag contest. Design a paper bag... You could do whatever you wanted. I had a good concept, but the execution was done really fast. Yesterday, the vendor posted some of them on their website... I didn't know it until a friend sent me this today. Here is my bag. If you read it. It's scary that I posted the above last night.

Breaking away

Someone was worried that I hadn't posted since my death post. Sorry to have rattled anyone. So what shall we discuss today?

It's day two in the caffeine withdrawal experiment. I must not be too addicted, no headache as yet. Not like the last time I went off caffeine. You'd think I'd been trying to kick heroin. I had a 3 bottle a day habit. Mt. Dew. Ah, the juice. :-) Perhaps the Krispy Kreme people were taking a lesson from the makers of Mt. Dew. I would seriously like to know what is in that stuff that makes it so addictive.

When I went off it last time I had cold sweats, nausea, dry heaves, cramping. I was curled in a ball for two days. The headache far surpassed anything I've had to deal with. It felt like a reverse vise. The thing was stretching my head trying to make it burst. When I couldn't take the pain any longer, I freed the Break Glass in case of Emergency Coke in the fridge. The luscious gurgle of the brown liquid pouring out of the can was a sweet musical for my ears alone. The hiss as the gases escaped chilling my finger on the tab the signal that freedom from pain was near. Unfortunately, the can of Coke merely reduced the pain. Three days later, I walked out of the house a new man. It would be be three years before I would drink more than 1/2 a soda again. Now, it's time to free myself from the bonds once again. I don't think it'll be so bad this time, I only have a bottle a day habit at this point