Cravings come in all shapes and colors. For some, it’s as simple as something edible. For others, it could be mind altering, detrimental even, such as caffeine, nicotine, crack cocaine or Justin Bieber.
The former was mine and it was screaming vanilla shake. Not just any vanilla shake. A Jack in the Box vanilla shake. The true test of a shake is how much shake you can get in your mouth on the first sip of the straw. If you can get a cheek full of liquid, then it’s simply a cold drink. With a Jack in the Box shake, the first sip you’ll get, for all intents and purposes, is jack. Continue reading The Not Vanilla Shake
Water. A crucial substance, necessary for the sustenance of life. We inhabit the water world and today, I pay homage to those before me, who used water not only to ensure survival but also as a form of enjoyment, creating worlds within worlds. More specifically, from the ancient Polynesian culture and what the Hawaiian’s refer to as he’e nalu. Although I am much appreciative of their gift of the sport, I would also like to apologize to any fish I may had run over. Continue reading Riding With Peppers, The Video
Like a bandit in the old west, my earbuds are my trusty six shooter and it’s holster, my mp3 player. When it’s fully loaded with an ammunition of songs, I am ready to take on any varmint at High Noon. Although I am unwilling to share my cover of Wanted Dead or Alive, I will be candid with my taste in music. You will find that I commonly park my hoss at the Hard Rock saloon, in between Pop Rock Barber Shop and the Bank of Alternative. My usual orders are awesome riffs and solos like More Than A Feeling by Boston or hypnotic vocals from any song sung by Freddie Mercury. If the bartend ain’t serving any joy juice, my earbuds double as buffer, eliminating pesky advances from bar prostitutes. Sometimes you just need a time-out from reality.
The following are three personal short stories representing an attachment with music, using songs as a supplement and a guide. Playing them is not necessary, but it adds another dimension to the story. In any case, they’re kick ass songs. Continue reading Leaving Reality and Three Stories You Should Listen To
I blog for many reasons but for the most part, blogging is simply letting my mind exhale. Some people have been blessed to have, I’d like to call, unfortunate opportunities encountering my cerebral narcissism. Am I like that in real life? Why yes I am, says the man in the mirror.
For the past week I’ve been on a mission. A mission to keep abreast of the month of October. The puns explanation begins with how all ideas start. A new haircut. The loss of my locks lead to a purple fauxhawk. Hawaii’s saltwater playground lead to the loss of the purple in three days yet a healthy gain of Vitamin D. What color should I do next? Pink, says the man in the mirror. Continue reading Tickled Pink
Sometimes, I visit basking turtles and start up a conversation. Unlike the babes on the beach, they can’t just up and walk away. Plus, most Betties start to (pretend) text when the lost of interest sets in. A tactic I commonly use on Mormons.
I found Hershel taking a nap in the tide-pools. Before he could get some shut eye, I quickly polled him then took his photo without his consent, forever stealing his turtle soul.
10 Thoughts From Hershel: Continue reading 10 Thoughts From A Dehydrating Turtle
The names have been modified for anonymity but the following story is remarkably factual.
“Why aren’t you answering your phone?!”
“I bet you’re hanging with that fucking bitch Jelena.”
“Get your ass down here and pick me up!”
“If you don’t call me back I’m gonna tell everybody at the club we’re fucking sleeping together!” My voice-mail relays to me.
“Your psycho friend again?” Jelena smirks. A yawn follows as she unravels her naked body from my arms.
“Yeah, I think Tristys drunk again.” I hand Jelena my phone and have her listen to the R rated voice-mails as I slip out of bed and jump in the shower.
“I think you should see what the fuss is about.” Jelena yells from the bedroom.
I quietly sigh in agreement, staring at the beading water on the white bath tile as if artificial rain would offer any resolution. What the fuck did I get myself into? I ponder achingly. I continue to wash the sex off.
Continue reading The Bartender, The Waitress and The Dancer: Chapter I of II