February 28, 2006


Saw this video last week, and found it very interesting. The story that goes with it can be found here.

I'm no cryptozoologist, but I do find cryptozoology fascinating. While I know that most of these creatures are nonexistent, I do believe that anything is possible, and that some of these sightings are real... these people saw something out of the ordinary. Whether it's really a monster is doubtful, but something, somewhere, sometime along the line inspired the tales of these creatures. That is the part I find fascinating.

There's more to this earth than we know, or will probably ever know. And that allows for many tales. Hey, it can be a lot of fun just imagining some of these things. Bigfoot, Sasquatch, the Yeti... tales of them go back hundreds of years. Champ and Nessie, also. What started these tales and legends?

Don't know, and in some ways, I don't care... as long as their tales continue on. And hey, if they should happen to prove that some of them really do exist, all the better. I'll have a blast reading about them.

How 'bout you?

Posted by That 1 Guy at 12:26 PM | Comments (6)

February 27, 2006

Bibb Lettuce

One night, long ago, I took my underage brothers (I was underage myself) out drinking with some of the folks with whom I used to work. R didn't really drink, but the Perfect One and I did. Turned out to be a total mess...

The Perfect One kept drinking shots of 100 proof peppermint schnapps (Rumple Minze), and announcing to everyone at the table that, "Germans don't get drunk." Even as he leaned into the table, tipping it so that two women on the other side had to counterbalance it, he kept up this mantra. Germans may not get drunk, but they do get shit-faced.

I ended up cradling him in my arms, and carrying him out to his Jeep, where he was dumped into the back, sprawled all over. Worrying about being a little smashed myself, I took the backroads home.

As we made our way closer to home, I noticed that the Jeep seemed to be developing a problem... a certain clanging and ringing that occurred everytime we turned a corner. Soon, it was happening on every corner, and every bump we hit. After R did some investigating, we discovered that the pinging was only the Perfect One's skull bouncing off of his roll bar. Needless to say, I started swerving alot.

Anyway, we arrived home only to discover that my mother was there... she wasn't supposed to be. So we drove around, trying to figure out a way to get Mr. Perfect into the house. After a few trips around the block, we decided to eat on it, and stopped to pick up a burger. The Perfect One regained consciousness long enough to hammer down a burger, then went back to the Jeep to "rest" some more.

Fortunately, the next trip around the block revealed that Ma was no longer around, so we pulled in, and got TPO into the house, where he wobbled, stumbled, and ran down the steps and into the wall in the basement. We got him into bed, and had started to make our way back upstairs, when we heard the choking.

TPO sleeps like a vampire... insists on sleeping on his back, with his hands usually crossed over his chest. Seriously. Well, this isn't good if you are going to yak up booze. By the time we got into the room, he was already turning blue. I got him turned on his side, got him breathing decently, and R and I started cleaning up wretched smelling hurl. Having drank some peppermint myself, I had a hard time keeping from contributing to the puddle.

After cleaning up, and making sure that he lay on his side, R and I went out of the room to escape the stench. We weren't too sure if we should leave him or not, so we stayed downstairs talking and trying to come up with a story to keep Ma from coming down. A short time later, we heard choking again.

Sure enough, TPO was once again on his back, turning blue. This time I turned him on his side, and made R clean up the mess... I was sure that I would lose it. We stayed in there for a long while, and everything seemed okay, so we made our way back out of the room.

About half hour later, I stuck my head in to check on him. He was still on his side, but he had started the cough indicative of another hurling episode. I managed to wake him up, get him on his feet, and steer him towards the can. After I lined him up with the toilet, he turned his head, said "Thanks, Man," and puked all over my bare feet. All I could do was laugh... it was that or puke, myself.

One of the things that I remember most from this was the lettuce that had been on his burger. After a stint in the gut, it was a most unpleasant shade of nasty... dark green, like spinach, with black somethings... it looked like leeches on spinach. Definitely left an impression.

Why bring this up? I don't know... I started to write about the weekend, and got sidetracked with a natural calling. When I looked down, I realized that the Bibb lettuce that I had on my burger yesterday looks much the same. I needed to share.

I'm sorry, but you'll have to wait a bit for the weekend story...

Posted by That 1 Guy at 03:10 PM | Comments (6)

February 25, 2006

Not Us...

While our valet cart , loaded with beer, got many comments and admiring looks from some of the other guests, we had nothing to do with this heist. Really.

Though I will say, I couldn't drink another MGD...

Posted by That 1 Guy at 08:47 AM | Comments (1)


So I snore... did I ever post about that? I know that I started to one sleepless eve, but I don't think I ever finished up. 'Least, I can't find it in the archives. I know that at least one person has... I was compared to a frieght train. Heheheh. No, I don't take issue with that, because the lad was right. 'Tis true.

I've got a snore that has brought horny grizzly sows, seeking violent sex, and Wookiees, seeking a great chief, to my door, and I've had to turn the Wookiees away. I've rattled dishes, and shaken trees. I snore so frickin' loudly, I wake myself up... no lie. Partly the product of a couple broken snoots, but I was doomed from the get go. The whole family is littered with snorers, though I'm easily the King. Hell, I'm awake right now because poor R (who's got an impressive snore himself) keeps laughing... we have to share a room, and about everytime it sounds as if I'm going to settle down into a steady breathing pattern, I spaz out or something. All I know is that while I'm keeping him awake, his frickin' laughing is driving me nuts. I got up to go over to the other side of the suite (we've got a condo... two suites side by side) to drink beer, listen to Psychostick downloads and The Perfect One's two kiddie's crying, and to bore you folks all to death at the same time! Ain't you lucky?!

We're staying at the Great Wolf Lodge here in the Dells. As I mentioned at the old home, this is the first time our whole famn damily has gotten to get away together in about twenty years or so. Eleven of us, all told. My mom, the four of us kids, two significant others, four kids. Hell, I think my mom is as excited about this as the kids are. She's already talking of making this an annual event.

We went to Moose Jaw Pizza and Brewing Company for supper. It was a bit pricey, but everyone agreed that it was pretty decent. I ordered their sampler, The Ten Pointer, where you get ten five ounce samples of their different beers. And, since I believe that you should be able to walk away from here with more than a cure for insomnia, I rated their beers. Just for you, people... just for you. Again, I sacrificed my liver for my unseen friends on the intraweb thingie. Anyway, here they are:

1. Light Ale: Very good stuff for a light ale. I wouldn't be afraid to drink many of these....

2. Honey Ale: Not bad at all. As a matter of fact, it's pretty good. Not too sweet, but it's there. R and I both agreed that there is another honey wiess from a company up North that is a little bit better, but this easily works.

3. Wiessbier: Exceptional... a very good wheat ale.

4. Dells Pilsner: Okay. Has a slightly fruity taste, but finishes up sharp. R stated it best... the finish is like celery juice. Not the taste, but the feel. A little too light for my taste, though two others having the sampler liked it...

5. Dells Chief Amber Ale: Me like alot. Very smooth, I could find myself knocking multiple pints back. Easily.

6. Raspberry Creme Ale: Among the four of us that tried it, no one cared for it. It's not bad... just not our taste. The raspberry isn't overpowering, and the initial taste is good... the finish is pretty lacking.

7. Kilbourn Hop Ale: Starts out great, kinda slaps you in the face, and finishes great. Another candidate for multiples. Kinda like Murphy's, without the buttery finish.

8. Apple Ale: Pretty damn good, the apple flavor was definitely there, but not overpowering at all.

9. Nitro India Pale Ale: Not so very good... at all. I don't really care for IPAs, so this rating may not be fair. But as far as I was concerned, this is the only beer not worth drinking there...

10. Milk Stouts: Mmmmmm.... damn good. You could taste the beer before your lips came in contact with the heavenly liquid. Not for the lactose intolerant.

There you have it... T1G's rating of Moose Jaw Brew Pub. Should it influence you? Not really. But you can trust me not to stick you with a crappy beer... or can you? Bwahahahahahah!!!

Okay, I know that I've bored you folks to sleep, because I'm nodding off now. I think I'm off to snore and listen to R get pissed.... I'll check back in with you all later.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 04:35 AM | Comments (8)

February 23, 2006

RR Blogging

WARNING: While this post is typical of me, it isn't typical of this blog. It coud be a bit TMI for some...

I shouldna oughta done it, but I finally gave in, and picked myself up a laptop. Just a basic machine, nothing fancy. I kid myself and say that if I end up getting a field service type-job, I'll need the machine for typing and sending reports. What a joke... it's probably going to be used for blogging more than anything else. I think we all know that.

I was reading the other day about how mobile computers are changing the way and where of business. Folks are taking their laptops into the shitter with them so they lose no time at all. Multi-tasking as it were. I'd provide a link, but as of right now, I'm not exactly in the best spot to get a signal. See, I decided to put this new toy to the test... you, my friends, are essentially sitting in the can with me while I'm shitting and typing. Have a seat on the edge of the tub, and we'll check this out together.

Whoa... hang on... here's a signal! Cool... now maybe I can find that link. Crap... the signal's locked. Okay, we'll stick to the typing and other for right now.

Holy crap, that was a nasty fart! Can you smell it? Those au gratin taters ain't smelling so tasty today, but that could be because of the combination of all the other things I et. Heheheh... I won't go into great detail, but I promise not to flush until you can check it out and take a guess as to what chow yesterday was.

Alright... despite all the fiber I had yesterday, things aren't moving along too well. I don't know if it's a bit of stage fright, trying to pinch one off in front of you folks, or what, but trying to push with this computer on my lap ain't working very well. Hold on...

Okay, that tears it. Trying to rock a turd out and still keep the damn laptop open is an exercise in futility... the damn thing's going on the floor until I'm done. I will keep my promise, and let you check it out when I'm done, though.

Turn your head while I take care of the paperwork, would ya? Thanks. Modesty you know.

Looking at the finished products, I'd have to say that both the post, and the fecal masterpiece stink. But at least the bowlful has color... the corn stands out well against the dark blue of the Powerade. So take a look, if you wish, and guess what all I had yesterday...

As far as the post, or working with a laptop while you're taking a crap, I'm thinking that all you're going to end up with is crap. Quite literally and figuratively. I'm not a guy who can sit on the can for long periods of time. You crap and go. The stench of a nasty dump cannot be conducive to clear thinking, and the longer you wallow in it, the more clouded your thinking is going to be.

And unless they start putting laptop trays in the shitter... hey... it's my idea, and it's patented... back off... it's a little too awkward. At least, that's my experience. I'm not going to risk trashing my laptop, just so that ...n Smith can get those quotes emailed to him while I'm baking brownies. What's three minutes?

My fellow patrons, I'm sorry if this post disappointed you, or perhaps put you in a place you'd rather not be, but hey, you clicked on the extended entry. I will guarantee you, however, that this is the last post I will type while on the throne of this pub. See, the stench and awkwardness are but a small part of what bugs me. I'm a bit of a techno tard, so I'm not exactly sure about how all this wireless stuff works, but I do have one consideration that has me very reluctant to do this again.

Fried cajones. I'm afraid that my nuts are going to be hard boiled by deadly wireless rays, stupid as that sounds.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 11:47 AM | Comments (14)


Well, I'm able to get on MuNu right now, so I'll try to post. But just so you know, if you don't see anything here, check out my old blogsnot site.

Seems that right now, Insight broadband and Munuvia aren't getting along with each other.

I haven't forgotten you folks... those of you on MuNu are screwed while this is going on, and the rest of you are on my blogrolls here... to which I have no access. I'm sure it will all be taken care of soon, but in the meantime, you may have to go to the old site.

Thank you all, and GOOD NIGHT! *insert crowd cheering maniacally*

Posted by That 1 Guy at 11:32 AM | Comments (1)

February 22, 2006

Ozzy r Me

I was sent a link to a site to help determine the number of drinks you have consumed and how much those drinks have run you.

I ended up being called Ozzy Osbourne, and told I've spent over 260 g's on pints.

Consult the Drink-o-meter, and let me know how you rate...

H/T to AZindiandoll

Posted by That 1 Guy at 12:51 PM | Comments (11)

February 21, 2006


Nope, that's not the posts needed to hit 1000. It's not a monetary value. It's not an area code. It is an interstate, a school district in Minnesota, a Gato - class submarine, lost in 1944 (RIP gentlemen), a standard form for Executive Branch Personnel Public Financial Disclosure Report, and a Braddock Heights, Maryland Cub Scout Pack, along with other things, I'm sure. Those aren't what I'm talking about. That would be the amount of poundage you would feel, should I happen to step on you.

My frickin' weight.

Now, I'm not going to whine about being a lard ass. I'm really not. I am way out of shape, and I weigh more than I should, but I'm only concerned about that number because of something that I've really wanted to do, and as long as that number shows up when I step on a weighing device, I can't do it. To do it, I need the scales to read 250 or below, or to find a skydiving joint that will take someone over that weight.

Yeah. I want to jump out of a plane. A friend and I have decided that that is going to be the planned event for my birthday in July. I've wanted to do it since I was a kid, but I really got fired up when I was in the Marines, and a couple of the guys that had gone through recon training had their own chutes, and would go out on Saturday mornings...

Huh... I've been trying to find links to their weight restrictions, and as of right now, I can't find anything. I know that I was stoked last year, and then I found the limitation on multiple local sites. Not finding them now.

Regardless, I've gotta drop a pound or ten, and if my personal health isn't good enough reason, being able to launch myself out of a plane should work even better.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 07:32 PM | Comments (12)


Make someone laugh, they tag you with a meme. Skillfully navigate someone else to a blogmeet, they tag you with a meme. Being a nice guy does nothing but get you into trouble...

1: Black and White or Color; how do you prefer your movies?

I like them both, but I l think that I like the B/W better. Those movies are from a time when actors and actresses could do it all... acting, dancing, singing. They also seemed to be capable of playing a greater variety of characters, and playing them well. Perhaps it's not really today's actors fault, but they seem to be locked into certain types of characters.

2: What is the one single subject that bores you to near-death?

Near-death experiences. Heheheh... not true. I don't really know. Maybe discussing the aesthetic qualities of drying paint...

3: MP3s, CDs, Tapes or Records: what is your favorite medium for prerecorded music?

CD's for sure, yo. Though I still have a few records lying around, I have no turntable. Tapes never seem to last very long, and I've never figured out what Military Police have to do with music. The Police, yes. Well, Yes, too.

4: You are handed one first class trip plane ticket to anywhere in the world and ten million dollars cash. All of this is yours provided that you leave and not tell anyone where you are going ... ever. This includes family, friends, everyone. Would you take the money and ticket and run?

Hell. Yeah. Not that I'm eager to get away from the family and those I know, but there are ways to get around the rules... especially when you've got ten mil. For instance, they say you can't tell anyone where you're going. NOT WHERE YOU ARE!

5: Seriously, what do you consider the world's most pressing issue now?

Since this is a serious question, and Teresa pretty much gave my answer, I'll leave hers: Making liberals understand we're at War with people who want to end our civilization. If we could make them understand that - many side issues would be much easier to resolve.

6: How would you rectify the world's most pressing issue?

Free beatings for morons! Of course, that wouldn't really rectify anything, but it would make me pretty damn happy.

7: You are given the chance to go back and change one thing in your life; what would that be?

I would have raised my hand to go to the bathroom sooner in Mrs. Snyder's 1st grade class...

8: You are given the chance to go back and change one event in world history, what would that be?

January 27, 1991: Buffalo kicker Scott Norwood makes a 47 yard field goal, with 4 seconds left, to beat the Giants in Super Bowl XXV, thus making me $750 richer. Bastard.

Seriously, I don't believe that you should mess with history. Well, until they come up with a way to time travel. Then I'm so there...

9: A night at the opera, or a night at the Grand Ole' Opry --Which do you choose?

Night In The Ruts... okay, okay... Grand Ole Opry. It'd be more fun than smackin' Betty Jo's bottom with a sackful of dead kittens...

10: What is the one great unsolved crime of all time you'd like to solve?

While it would be interesting to find out who John, Slasher of Whores, really was, I noticed that several have already said that. So I just want to know who stole my gottdamned stainless steel ratchet wrench.

11: One famous author can come to dinner with you. Who would that be, and what would you serve for the meal?

Hmmmm... Bloodspite said Louis L'Amour, Teresa said Churchill, both answers that would be high on my list. I'll just say Stephen King, and whatever the hell he wanted. As long as it's good food.

12: You discover that John Lennon was right, that there is no hell below us, and above us there is only sky -- what's the first immoral thing you might do to celebrate this fact?

Absofrickinlutely nothing... at least, not until I saw that the Laws of the Land had been repealed because of this revelation. Until then, I consider it a trick, and will not take those lives....

No tagging on this one. I've gotten it too late. And besides, I'm a nice guy.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 06:41 PM | Comments (3)

February 20, 2006

He's Serious

Cruising around today, I stopped to check out Contagion's Frappr Map. By the way, Mr. Shy has far passed me when it comes to friends. Now that's just wrong... he may be my friend, but he's a prick, and an asshole. It just shouldn't be. Perhaps you fine folks were put off by my asking you, as drunkards, to sign my map. Maybe you're afraid of my Jeebus status... that's cool. But it's still no reason not to sign the fu#%ing map. Please... don't make me strike you down. I'd much rather drink a beer with you, than exile you from this earth. Speaking of exile reminds me of what I originally was going to post about... I've drifted quite aways off.

Contagion isn't really a touchy-feely kinda guy. Tammi, as he says in his own words, "... will hug you for any reason. She meets you; she needs a hug. You talk to her; she needs a hug. She successfully put on a coat; she needs a hug. It’s cold out; she needs a hug." Well, she went too far this weekend.

Contagion has exiled her to a deep spot in the ocean, off the coast of Africa. Here's proof that you can only push the bastard so far...

Click to Find Tammi

Posted by That 1 Guy at 09:25 PM | Comments (8)

Tropical Wolf Observations

This weekend saw another very successful blogmeet, this one put together by Laughing Wolf, and dubbed "The Howl on the Prowl." Of course, despite my incredibly busy schedule, I was able to take time off from my non-existent job and attend. Here's some of what you missed...

Friday: I had my gear packed and ready, waiting for Tammi and another blogger and their spouse. I got a phone call. It was very loud, signal breaking, and unintelligible. I was straining both to hear, and to hold the phone away from me at the same time. Whoever it was, was in agony, at least from what I could hear. Amid the choked off screams, I hear what sounded to me like "vasectomy!" I assured them that no one by that name lived here, and promptly hung up the phone.

About five minutes after the mysterious phone call, Bloodspite and his wife pulled up. My ride was finally here! Watching Bloodspite waddle towards the door, I suddenly had a revelation of who may have been behind the call...

Greetings were made, hands shook, and the sob story told. Seemed that even though Bloodspite and his lovely wife had lived in the North a while ago, their time down South has made them forget just what sub-tropic temperatures felt like. * twitch* When they had stopped for fuel in a small town just east of here, Bloodspite had reportedly lost his 'nads to a polar bear, or a blast of cold air, depending on whom you are questioning. Either way, he wasn't ready for our current heat wave... it had definitely been him shrieking over the phone.

Tammi arrived shortly after, and we loaded up the vehicle and set off in our bermudas and tropical shirts.

The drive down to LW's was fairly uneventful, though I did take a little bit of heat for my navigational techniques. Seems that some folks have a hard time putting their faith in someone who tells them that "we just take this road until it looks good, then turn right." *twitch* Oh, they of little faith! Needless to say, we made it there in a safe and timely manner, much to the suprise of the faithless. Heheh... I even heard, "I can't believe it! He's right!" coming from the heathens in back. Of course I was right... it's a fairly common thing.

We arrived at LW's to find Contagion, Ktreva, and LW in the company of two very beautiful women, both of whom looked familiar, but I could only place a name to one... Oddybobo. First time meeting her, but I knew her right away. I got a big hug from her, in the name of Christina, and cast a sidelong glance at the other. I couldn't place her, and being kinda quiet myself (which I don't think she'll ever believe...), I waited until I got outside to ask who she was. *twitch* As soon as I was told, I felt like an idiot, and walked right back into the house and yelled at poor Machelle. I did get a hug from her, so I couldn't have scared her too badly... unless it was just one of those "just play along... he'll go away" type things. Unfortunately, Contagion, not wanting to share the company of the ladies with us latecomers, dragged them all away after a few minutes of visiting.

Bloodspite and I brought out the guitars, and he played and sang, while I beat on the instrument like a cross-eyed chimp. After keeping LW awake for too long, we called it a night.

Saturday: Got up bright and early feeling a tad bit tired. The wind was blowing pretty decent all night, and rattled the door a few times. I'd been sleeping in LW's sanitarium solarium, right next to the door. *twitch* LW had had some problems with folks prowling around, and the first time that door rattled, I was up and behind the door, ready to clock someone, before I foolishly realized that it was only the wind.

I had a brief moment of panic when my nose started to trickle blood. Flashbacks to October's incident in Tennessee had me picturing future blogmeets... "Hey, don't forget that each blogmeet needs a free bleeder! Let's get T1G!!!" (Hey, at least I'd be a regular invitee!) Thankfully, all was well...

We ate an excellent breakfast and headed out to meet the others at the Tippecanoe Battlefield. I met Wes, of Bohdran (Drum) Roll, Please, and his wife, WOW (wife of Wes). Bloodspite, Wes, and their wives, along with LW and myself, took a walk around the battlefield, while the others went inside to escape the blistering heat. About the time that we finished up, Harvey and TNT arrived, so once Tammi took them on a walk and out of sight, we sprinted for the vehicles and left, leaving them to find Wolf Park on their own.

Unfortunately, Harvey managed to find us, and we all went on a tour of the park, with LW guiding the tour. He did very well, and almost sounded like he knew what he was talking about! We got to watch some human/wolf interaction as LW and some others went into the main pack's enclosure. *twitch* As can be seen below, in the upper right of the pic, Harvey proved to be much slower than the others...

Click to Swell

While I'm tossing up pictures, check out this prank photo that we took, just for Bou, who seemed to think that it would be too cold for her to attempt a trip up to join us. (This one, you can't embiggen... protecting the innocent, and those who would pretend to be. *wink*) We were all sweating to death in these winter clothes, just for a joke...
(Left to right: Bloodspite, Wife of Bloodpite, Wes, Machelle, WOW, Tammi, Harvey, Contagion, Oddybobo, TNT, LW, and hidden behind him, Ktreva.)

LW had hooked us up with an incredible snack tray from a local Russian deli, along with some borsch, but after having the blazing sun blasting on us for so long, we needed to head for some shelter and an actual meal, so LW guided us to a small establishment, TC's, for some kickass grub and some much needed Guinness. *twitch* The place reminded me of Fritz's, in that it really didn't look like much more than a cozy neighbourhood bar, but it had excellent food. Hell, I'd rate the chow right up there with the Wooden Nickel's, though, I still have to give an edge to Fritz's staff... and that's saying nothing bad at all of TC's. Their service was excellent, and they were very patient, even when it seemed that no one liked to keep their drinks inside of their glasses...

While the food and drink were excellent, this is about the time the conversations started to really get out of hand. Worst of it was, Pat and Gale, from Wolf Park, had joined us for dinner. I'm not sure that they were there yet when Wes and WOW started talking about loins, and hand breading them, but they had to have heard part of it... it was a very intense conversation, and Ktreva was really into it. I mean, she was right there. "Oooh, look! Butter!!!"

Next thing you know, Ktreva and Wes are discussing what makes soft tails soft, and which ones are spongy. Oddybobo must have really liked what she was hearing, because the next thing I knew, Ktreva had her all wet... least, that's what I heard. I don't know. But she was kinda embarassed...

It was about this time that I decided to try and sneak a pic in against Contagion's wishes. Folks, he and I have been drinkin' together, and he's been called "the Devil" by some of the locals. And I've seen photos of him taken by his "friends"... they all look fine. Especially this one. *twitch* I thought his hesitation was just because of his hair being mussed, but I discovered that it was just that he didn't want ME taking his pic. Me... Jeebus. That's right... when a saintly man, such as myself, takes a picture of a devil, such as my friend, his true visage is exposed. Behold, my fellow patrons, the demon friend, Contagion...

El Contagiono.jpg
Mind you, there was absolutely no photoshopping of this hideous image.

After we finished our orgy dinner, we headed back to the park for Howl Night. Now I will say that by this time, the temperature had declined to a fairly cool temp. *twitch* (I had to put on a long sleeve t-shirt.) We were discussing sitting in the bleachers piled on top of each other, a mass of humanity huddled together for warmth, with Contagion sitting to one side barking "Don't touch me," at anyone who got too close. (He's strange about that... he's always trying to hug on folks, but wigs out if they touch him.) After the dinner conversations, we decided that perhaps it would not be a very wise thing. Fun, maybe, but definitely not wise.

Pat and a fella named John gave us presentations, explaining about the different howls, and what they meant. When they might be used. *twitch* We howled, and the wolves howled back.

If you ever get a chance to go to something like this, you've got to do it. I've heard them howl before, back in December, but it still raises goosebumps on the arms. And it's not from fear... it's... it's... a feeling of being a part of a much larger thing than you can imagine. I know, it's a lame description, but I doubt anyone there will say anything otherwise...

After howling, we went to Lafayette Brewing Company to kill defenseless beers and shoot the bovine fecal matter. *twitch* We also met up with Jerry, of Back Home Again, who had been unable to attend the previous festivities, but definitely wanted to get in on some of them. Monty Sloan, a nature photographer, joined us as well.

LBC has some pretty good beer. I've had the Black Angus Oatmeal Stout before, and loved it. *twitch* It was still pretty good, but tasted a little different, this time. The East Side Bitter is very good, as was the special edition Poor Richard's Ale, commemorating the 300th anniversary of Benjamin Franklin's birth. The Emancipation Dopplebock was incredible... unfortunately, it was only sold in halves. Their pale ale? Um... well, if you like chewing on orange peels, you'll be in heaven drinking this!

Once the beer drinking got rolling, things declined quickly. Oddybobo, who is by no means shy, does quiet down a bit when drinking. However, that did not stop her from sticking her tongue in a cigar store Indian's ear. I missed the actual act, but I did get a pic of her and the statue both smiling. "The wood is good," said she.

Harvey and TNT sat down on the far end from me, so I couldn't hear exactly what was going on, but I'm pretty sure it was sneaky, as most of their plotting is. I could tell it was of the interrogation type of sneaky, as they had Bloodspite tied to a chair, and everytime he didn't answer one of Harvey's questions, TNT would pummel the everloving piss out of him. No lie. There was a puddle under his chair.

Wes and WOW were still breading loins, and ended up leaving well before everyone else, thus ruining the chance for any of us to tell them to get a room. Heheheheh....

Jerry was probably wondering what the hell he had gotten into, listening to all of the conversations. What with the beavers gnawing on each other, and other strange topics. But I know he couldn't have been clueless... he's been reading some of the family members since finding these two posts. I give the guy props... he walked right in, and up to the right group of folks, without knowing a one of us. LW and Monty were talking with him, as the rest of the table went to hell. Thank gott for quiet and responsible souls, such as Machelle, the Bloodspouse, and myself.

We had Tammi announce that the last time she did it, she got stuck, and it was ugly. *twitch* No one had asked, it just got thrown out there. We also had Bloodspite finally escape and make his way away from Harvey, only to have him and Tammi show us their impression of two beavers gnawing on each other. Meanwhile, Contagion, inspired by Brokeback Mountain, was feeling the love.

I'm thinking that the folks at LBC were more than happy to see us leave.

Aside from finishing up the evening playing guitars at LW's place, our meet was over.

Sunday: There were no doubts about my navigational powers, and I managed to guide the Bloodvehicle safely back home, while impressing the fellow passengers with my meditation. Well, that is until I started snoring....

End result of this meeting? It was an absolute success. I got to meet four new bloggers, and get together with others that I feel totally comfortable around. (Except maybe Harvey...)

Quick hits on each attendee...

Contagion: I really don't like this guy. If it weren't for his wife being a hottie, I wouldn't really speak to him. Okay... I lied. He's a good dude, despite wishing to be otherwise.

Ktreva: A sweetheart that likes to threaten people with kicks to the dick. Really. And she hugged me!

Tammi: Everyone's favorite chatterbox. I can not imagine what one of these meets would be without her! And she hugged me!

Machelle: Quiet... more than me. I heard that she does the same thing I do, sniping conversation, but she's much better at it than I'll ever be. A hottie, too! And she hugged me!

Oddybobo: Just as you'd picture her from her blog, or emails. Also, she likes to drink good beer. And she hugged me!

TNT: Gotta like anybody that can tolerate Harvey. She's either a saint, or a whacko. And she hugged me!

Wes: I'm sorry I hadn't met him sooner, especially since I've had the chances. Good dude who lives too close to Contagion. It shows, somewhat.

WOW: I thought it very cool to watch people, and she was one that I noticed was deeply interested in everyting we saw, both at the battlefield, and at Wolf Park. Very cool. Plus, she and her hubby kept yelling at each other to take their hands off of their loins. Entertaining... but she didn't hug me.

Bloodspite: The guy doesn't live far enough away. Er... I mean, he doesn't live close enough. Yeah. Very good to see him again.

Bloodyspouse: I don't really know why, but she seems to like giving me crap, and lots of it. Which is kinda cool... kinda. Another sweetheart, and while she didn't this time, she hugged me!

Jerry: 'Twas very cool to see someone that would subject themselves to this kind of exposure, without really knowing any of the others. Again, that took big 'nads. Part of blogging is stepping outside of your circles that you are comfortable with... he embodied it this weekend!

Harvey: I never really say much good about the bastard. So I won't this time, either. Nah, really, he's a damn good guy who will pay you big dollars to say that very thing. My blogfather... and he hugged me!

Laughing Wolf: Impressive man. He did an incredible job setting everything up, and was a most gracious host. Went above the call of duty to make sure everything was fine for everybody, without considering it going out of his way. Thanks again, LW.

I know I've said before that if you get the chance to go to one of these events, you should hop on it, so I won't say it again. Oooops... too late.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 07:18 PM | Comments (12)

February 19, 2006

A Decision

There are times in our lives when a decision to commit must be made. No more "samplings."

I've been tossing this one around for quite awhile, and after watching folks this weekend, and weighing other factors in my life, I've decided that the time has come for myself as well. The choice has been made. I have decided that I will no longer just sample. Nope.

I've decided to drink.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 09:49 PM | Comments (7)

February 17, 2006

My Guit-fiddle

I play a bit of guitar. Nothing impressive, like the Elderly Brothers, but I mess around a little. Or used to, anyway. It's been quite a while since I've played regularly. Probably about three years.

While I haven't been playing, I've let my uncle use the guitar. He plays all the time, and an instrument is not just made to be beautiful, but to function beautifully, too. If you don't play it, it doesn't function. That's considered cruelty to instruments.

Well, Bloodspite asked me to bring my guitar to Howl on the Prowl, so I went up to my uncle's place and picked it up. First time in about four years that I've played it. Oh, I've played since... last time was in December at Bloodspite's place. It's just this particular guitar.

I've got an Ovation, 1995 Collector's Series acoustic. The thing is sweet. I hadn't realized how much I missed it, until I picked it up and started playing around with it.

Now, I'm looking forward to trying to hang with Bloodspite and his guitar this weekend. And I'm not so sure that I'm going to let my uncle have this at his disposal for a while... I'm like a little kid who just found a toy that he left outside last fall.

And it's a damn sweet toy!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 03:07 PM | Comments (8)


If you've read here at all, you know I'm kind of a sentimental guy. That's just me. However, I hadn't realized exactly how carried away I can get, 'til yesterday.

My phone and answering machine is on it's last leg. I can get calls, and there will be no ring at all. I'll be in the midst of talking to someone, and the phone will die. I'll have to answer on speaker phone.

The handset battery was the most logical suspect, but, while it is a bit worn, it's not totally to blame. It's the base itself. Eight years old, it is, and it no longer works proper. I've had folks call me all day, and never heard a call, or got the message.

Time for a new one, I guess. But it ain't quite that simple. There are messages that I've saved on that machine, that I just can't seem to let go into the trash to make way for a functioning machine.

Should you hit play, you'd hear my oldest nephew saying, "Hi, Unca Doe," and then launch into a nonsensical "scat" that I had taught him, my sister encouraging him on in the background. Next you'd hear my cousin's daughter's birth announcement, with all the vital stats. After that, you'd hear one of my best friends rambling on, trying to see how long the machine would go before cutting him off... there was alot of funny shit that he was talking about.

The next two are the birth announcements of The Perfect One's little boy, and then his daughter... The Perfect One and his significant other leaving the messages.

Next are just a couple of friends that I haven't heard from in a long time, and my cousin calling to tell me that he got accepted into the sheriff's department.

I have only one phone in my house. The place isn't that big, and one phone is more than adequate. Yesterday, I decided to pick up a new machine. But first, I listened to the stored messages.

I can't toss them. Can't do it, at all. Yeah, it's kinda stupid, but I like those messages better than the one's I've been getting lately.

The machine stays...

Posted by That 1 Guy at 02:43 PM | Comments (7)

February 16, 2006

Guerilla Posting, Still


Posted by That 1 Guy at 11:19 AM | Comments (1)

February 15, 2006

Hit and Retreat

Guerilla post...

Bingley, over at Coalition of the Swilling, has put out a call for a Support Denmark Dinner, this Saturday, Feb. 18. I'll be at Howl on the Prowl, but I'll try my best to contribute. Most likely in the alcoholic beverage department... more info here...

Map yourselves... Don't make me come after you...

Drank a strange brew last night... Garden Fresh Hot Sauce... long story... too many beers beforehand...

I haven't blown you folks off. I'll get caught up on emails soon. Really.

Oh, please tell me what this is...


I know what it's supposed to be, Google's nod to the Olympics, but it sure looks like something else... a used something else...

Posted by That 1 Guy at 10:30 AM | Comments (6)

February 14, 2006

Not Flattered

Here's a suggestion for those looking to win someone's heart: Don't look at your intended victim and then say that they should be flattered that you are pursuing them. Especially if you mean it.

What a frickin' turn off...

Posted by That 1 Guy at 10:53 AM | Comments (8)

Chopper Complete

Not much time to spend with you all, today. I'm relegated to guerilla posting... maybe for the rest of the week. Hopefully I can spend a bit of time with you all, later.

My youngest brother, R, just finished up his chopper this fall, and he sent me some pics of the finished product. It's lookin' sweet, though you may find it kinda bland. It was built that way on purpose... he built it to sell, and figured that whoever bought it could customize their own paint. As it is, I think it looks pretty damned sharp.

This thing was a blast to work on. My help was minimal, but I did get to work on the frame, and fitting up the tank. I also picked that damn engine up Gott knows how many times. Especially when we were fitting the frame to it. That's a big chunk of metal!

I'd give you some of the specs and components if I knew them all, but I don't. So I won't. But I will tell you that the frame, tank, and fenders are from West Coast Choppers. The shift linkage and fender struts are made from chain welded solid. You can probably see that best in the bottom pic.

Anyway, check it out... (R is the rider, btw.)

Swollerization by Clickeration

Swollerization by Clickeration

Damn, I'm looking forward to riding that thing!

Oh, and in case you thought I forgot, here's the guerilla posting.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 10:48 AM | Comments (10)

February 12, 2006

Feb. 13

Febuary 13, 1936: Blizzard, cold, baby. Folks in the country were trying to dig out the roads so that the town doctor could get out to deliver an immigrant farmer's wife's baby. In the small town, folks were trying to dig out to meet them. They were late.

My dad was born in a small farmhouse seventy years ago. I'd heard the story as a little guy. Never knew where it was. I found out shortly after I moved down to Stillman, that it was here... right up the road. Some of the old timers still talk of that winter, though their numbers are fast dwindling. There's a good chance that it was immortalized in a book written by the doctor, just one of his many experiences as town doc. I've been looking for a copy of it...

Taking the day off tomorrow. Making a trip to the cemetery, and down memory lane.

I'll catch ya on Tuesday.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 08:05 PM | Comments (4)


Got a song stuck in the old grape, and can't seem to shake it. I also can't seem to figure out exactly how lucky the Lucky Man was...

I mean, yeah, he had horses and ladies by the score, but they were all waiting by the door. (Not to mention all dressed in satin... how the hell do you dress horses?) Sounds like they were all waiting to leave. I figure his ladies wanted nothing to do with his bed, as the damn thing was metal.

How lucky is that?

Posted by That 1 Guy at 06:08 PM | Comments (1)

February 11, 2006

Where You At, Drunks?


Dead time. Nothing to blog about.

So here's something to do. Go mark yourself on my Frappr Map. You can click here to sign in, or you can go over to the right side bar.

Yeah... I know I'm behind the times. Who cares?

Posted by That 1 Guy at 01:01 PM | Comments (2)

February 10, 2006

Just Noodlin'

It's been a dreadfully dead day. Nothing clicks. Nothing to write about except for a certain goldphish and his lack of consideration for peeps that be counting on him. Hell, I've read a few blogs, and couldn't even come up the expected smartassedness in my comments. A funk seems to be shadowing me. And I did take my shower last week. I know that ain't it...

Anyway, to spend a major portion of the day, I've been chatting with Bloodspite on Yahoo messenger. We got to talking about fishin', and he started telling me about some of the fish caught in his area. Impressive, eh?

I was interested until he invited me down to go Noodling. I had to wonder about a few things, but he assured me that it really was a method of fishing. It is. I'd heard of this madness when I was in Texas, but the locals called it by another name... and I'm not talking "crazy," although most did say that's what it is... frickin' crazy.

So what am I talking about? Go ahead, and read this. Catching a fish by having it bite you, then grabbing 'hold of it. You may be thinking, "These fish can't be too big!" Well, check it out, holmes... look at the alien life forms. No effin' way...

I'm not about to go sticking my hand in a muddy riverbank, hoping for some beasty fish, and not a snake or snapping turtle, to bite on my arm so I can wrestle him out. Bastards have drowned themselves totally dead by doing this. I ain't doing it unless you can buy me a new arm, and a give me a shitload of money.

Oh, and just so you know, Bloodspite ain't about to do it either... he was just trying to get me all riled up, which did work. He IM'ed, "go ahead. Stick your hand in to a leaving breathing wood sander why don't you. Along with the rest of your arm.... Be like wrestling a damn gator." Perhaps, Jimbo, of PRS, might try this to help overcome his fear of 'gators. Or not.

I ain't about to try it... but how about you? Or even better, have you?

Posted by That 1 Guy at 05:36 PM | Comments (6)

Smokin' Something

Phin is running late with his weekly Gratuitous Mélissa Theuriau Posting. Phishy, my man, you are like a drug dealer passing out samples, and then leaving us jonesing. You could be making a killing, and yet, you choose just to torment us. You, my phinned friend, are a bastard.

*Updated* They say the whiny addict gets the crack. Phin delivers...

As for what she would see in you, I'm not sure. I think she'd have to be smokin' something.

Well, crap...


Posted by That 1 Guy at 02:17 PM | Comments (1)

February 09, 2006


Well, the story had a good beginning. But the ending is a little lacking. Perhaps, we can rewrite it.

New York authorities enlisted the aid of an eight month old kitten in an undercover sting of a fake veterinarian. Really. You can't make this crap up. Well, you could...

In my story, the traitorous kitten sells out the vet, who everyone agrees is a great guy, despite the fact that he's a phony. Getting greedy, the cat goes on to try and shake down some of the less than honest cops. As he starts rolling in the dough, his partner's resentment boils over. Rather than play the cat's game, the partner, a Boston terrier, bides his time and confronts him in a dark alley. When the cat tries to bribe his old partner, the dog chomps down on his grape, crushing it. He then tears the corpse to shreds, and leaves him laying amidst evidence of his blackmail. And everyone lives happily ever after....

That's what happens when cats go undercover....

Posted by That 1 Guy at 03:22 PM | Comments (4)


Wow... the Grammys were last night. Should you actually care, you can see the winners of all 108 categories here. My interests were for Best Hard Rock Performance, Best Metal Performance, Best Traditional Blues Album, Best Contemporary Blues Album and Best Musical Show Album. That's it...

And the respective winners of each are: System of a Down, Slipknot, B.B. King and friends, Delbert McClinton, and Spamalot.

This concludes my in depth coverage of the Grammys.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 12:27 PM | Comments (6)

A Quick Update

Sally, of Whimsy Capricious, checks in with an update.

You three are in my thoughts, Sally.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 11:12 AM | Comments (1)

Schwanz On Fire

Dunklezahn, son of Raging Mom, posted about "Chemical Abuse of the Penile Region." A pretty damn funny post, complete with a description of pain from each chemical. Examples are provided. Reminded me of a post that I started writing awhile back...

When I used to work for Beloit Corp, it wasn't uncommon for a couple of guys to get together and bring in a feed for everyone in the department. We'd have ribs, elk, caribou, venison, sweet corn, egg rolls... all kinds of different chow. One of my favorite's was my buddy Bob's chili. This was some of the hottest stuff I've ever had, but it still had tons of flavor. Mmmmmm...

The stuff was a little costly to make, and Bob asked for some help buying the groceries. The Perfect One and I offered, and before you knew it, we were back a my brother's place, drinkin' beer and making chili.

I wish I could tell you everything that went into that chili, but I can't. I've tried to duplicate it, and I end up coming up short. Anyways, if I started telling you all the ingredients, this would be a frickin' recipe, not a post about agony. One thing this chili had in abundance was peppers... red bell, jalapenos, habarneros, serranos. The bells were pretty much for color and sweetness.

Bob started cutting up the peppers and onions, but when he started sauteeing, I took over. Noticing that he hadn't worn any gloves, I asked if I would need them. "Nah, you won't be cutting enough to burn you..." Don't ever trust "friends."

Brews went down rapidly, as we were sampling the peppers as I was cutting them. The serranos were the only peppers that weren't fresh, and we dug the carrots out of the can and snacked on them. (They're packed with carrots to soak up the extra oils... 'least, that's what I was told.) That really sped up the beer consumption! Soon, I was finished, and we settled back to bullshit while the chili was cooking, the smell of the fresh garlic, peppers, and onions making our eyes water. A slice of heaven, it was.

I remember scratching my side, and not long after that, the beer had run it's course. I needed to make a pit stop. Not being a total fool, I washed my hands before grasping the plumbing. I thought I was being one sharp cookie...

A few minutes after I hit the can, I realized that my side felt like it was on fire. It burned badly, and it just kept getting worse. Heheh... wasn't long after that, and I was in tears. Old Sluggo soon felt engulfed in flames, too. Obviously, washing my hands did nothing for the oils of the peppers. That was the longest hour of my life...

Oh, yeah, my hands eventually caught up with everything else, but the pain was a numbing burn. It did hurt to touch anything, but burned nowhere near as bad as the burn in the southern hemisphere...

I'm only half as dumb as I look, and I walked away from the incident a much wiser man (with cinders for a schwanz) who knows to wear gloves when cutting peppers... and to never trust a smiling friend... at least when potential pain is involved.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 10:21 AM | Comments (6)

February 08, 2006

Who Needs Acid...

when drinking plenty of this can bring about a strange trip. Okay, a dream or two.

I had a few tumblers of this fine bourbon last eve, and I'm going to give credit to it for my strange dream. I had been watching LA Confidential earlier, so I'm fairly positive that the idea for the dream started with that...

I'm pretty sure that I was supposed to be the Russell Crowe character, a little too quick to strong arm info from criminals. Quite literal, this strong arming was... my partner, a Sleestack, kept ripping the arms off of our potential informants, and trying to beat info out of them...

I don't remember my partner's name, if I even knew it at all... he just hissed alot, and laughed when he tore the arms off of his victims. A very peculiar looking guy this was... not normal at all. Sleestacks have no hair, but he did. He had a bunch of curly hair sticking out from under his fedora. When I asked him about it, he laughed, lifted his hat, and tugged on his hair to prove it was no rug. Another observation: Sleestacks don't smile... I assume that's because they've got huge horse teeth, as displayed everytime my partner laughed. It was a very hearty laugh, too... I don't know why they hiss so much.

Anyway, we ran all over the city, ripping off arms, and getting a few laughs. Never did much out of our informants other than screams and whimpers, but that didn't stop our efforts to get to the bottom of the case. Someone had been beating people to death and ripping off their arms, and we were going to get to the bottom of this at all costs...

The dream was brought to a sudden end when I pulled the pickup up to an intersection, just in time to see Boudicca, Tammi, and Maura Tierney go rocketing past in hospital beds... they were racing. Maura was in the lead, with a boombox jamming punk tunes on the bed with her, followed by Bou, with Tammi following yelling about how it was unfair, she was too tall and there was too much wind resistance, and blah, blah,blah...

I think Maura won it, but I don't know for sure... I woke up laughing.

Don't even start with trying to figure out what the hell it meant... it was just entertaining as hell.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 12:56 PM | Comments (10)

February 07, 2006


I'm up...

You see me...

I'm down.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 10:32 AM | Comments (10)

February 06, 2006


This week's Moron is up over at Sam's place. As usual, head on over, take a look, and take a guess.

You could be famous. Someday.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 04:08 PM | Comments (0)

Missing Ad

Godaddy.com had an ad that wasn't cleared for the Super Bowl... I found absolutely nothing wrong with this.

As a matter of fact, I liked it better than the one allowed. Can't quite figure out why...

Posted by That 1 Guy at 04:04 PM | Comments (8)

A Good Start

I'm sitting here chomping on my breakfast of leftover jambalaya, mexican manicotti, and Guinness, thinking, "What a way to start the week!"

Yeah... I said breakfast, and it's three o'clock... pm. 15:00.

This could very well be a week of strange posting, both in content and time-wise. Much to do, and little time to do it. I should be running my fool ass off... once I get rolling.

But for now, this is a nice way to start my week...

Posted by That 1 Guy at 02:56 PM | Comments (3)

February 05, 2006


Congratulations, to the Pittsburgh Steelers, and a couple of their rabid fans... Oddybobo, and Spurs come immediately to mind...

Posted by That 1 Guy at 09:25 PM | Comments (4)

SB Commercials

All Super Bowl commercials can be seen here...

First two commercials, once play started were pretty good.

Budlight's commercial about beers stashed throughout the workplace brought a couple of laughs....

Burger King comes out with what appears to be a pretty lame commercial, with the only benefit being that the creepy king doesn't show. But ... HE DOES! Thankfully, the commercial is saved when women are stacked into a sandwich... a whopper to be exact. Novel idea.... and a tasty thought...

Next up was a Sierra Mist commercial, not too bad, but pretty much a regular SM ad.

Budlight comes up with their "magic fridge" commercial. I'm going to be praying for my magic fridge, now...


Fed Ex cave man commercial is next... not too bad. Fairly funny.

Budlight continues having great commercials... the Bear commercial... a hiker offers a Budlight to a grizzly... stolen by fellow hiker...

Diet Pepsi commercial with Jay Mohr and P Diddy blows...

Aleave.... sucks

Ameriquest has a pretty good one... "Don't judge too quickly." A guy in a hospital bed, a doctor and tech standing near his bed, a fly, and a defibrillator paddle used to dispatch fly, and a woman and girl walking in to hear "That killed him dead..."

Budlight... Roof "Repair" commercial... not too bad.

Diet Pepsi did better this time... Diet Coke is used as a stunt double for Diet Pepsi in a Jackie Chan movie... not too bad.

Budweiser's streaker sheep... pretty damn funny..

Careerbuilder.com's monkeys... not bad

Escalade.... what a waste of time and money...

Ford and Kermit... ditto

Michelob Ultra Dark... heheheh... even though I knew what was going to happen, I couldn't help but bust up when that guy smeared the trash talking girl...

GoDaddy.com's Godaddy girl... and her wardrobe malfunction... funny.

Gillette Fusion... I don't understand why they wasted their frickin' money...

Overstock.com... it's all about the O. hmmmm.... no comment

Sprint... talkin' about new functions of their phone, it's use as a crime deterrent is brought up... made me laugh my ass off!

Ameriquest... another good one... a woman on a flight tries not to disturb those in her row as she gets up to use the rest room. Everyone is sleeping.As she makes her way, the plane hits turbulence. The cabin awakens to her straddling the once sleeping guy... "Don't judge too quickly"

Motopeble... what suck

Sharpie Retractable... hey, it's got a pirate... instant cool points, but not too many...

Budweiser's Foal who can't wait to pull the beerwagon... kinda cool

Nationwide.com's Fabio commercial... heheheheh...

Hummer's little monster commercial... Love Is Strange... yes, and your commercial sucks in the end...

PS Clean... I had to smile about the guy in the hazmat suit jumping into the pool... but that was it...

Careerbuilder.com... "I work with a bunch of monkeys" "Yeah, I work with a bunch of jackasses.." not bad at all....

Toyota Tacoma... this could have been good, but it wasn't

Okay, Sprint's second commercial busted me up... Benny Hill... loved it

Degree... not too bad...

Emerald Nuts... E(mumble, mumble) Machete Enthusiasts Recognize A Little Druid Networking Under The Stairs... had to smile over this one...

Another Budweiser commercial... whole stadium is a beer being poured into a glass... not bad, but it sure has a familiar feel to it... see Carlton Draught

Mastercard's MacGyver commercial... not too bad...

Honda's Ridgeline... Yosemite Sam and the Chrome Chick... okay...

Beer Institute's herestobeer.com ad... for some reason, this one just caught my eye...

Don't know if Outback Steakhouse's commercial is a new one, but it sure as hell was a lame one....

Westin Hotels and Resorts... "Proud to be the first major hotel brand to go smoke-free in the US and Canada"... also the first to guarantee that about 75% of my friends will never stay in their places...

I didn't list all the ads, but you can watch them all, and choose your favorite.


Posted by That 1 Guy at 05:54 PM | Comments (14)


I've mentioned before, I don't really pay much attention to tennis, but I do try to catch Wimbledon and the French Open... especially the women's matches. Seems that the women's game is more strategy and finesse, rather than the power of the men's game. And I've gotta admit, some of those women are pretty damn hot.

Anyway, I've watched enough that I know quite a few of the players. Not all of them, but many of the up and comers. I've been watching since around '90. Mmmmmm.... Steffi Graf..... er... distracted again.

I remember when Martina Hingis first appeared on the scene. She never really impressed me looks-wise, but she could definitely play tennis... some powerful tennis. She won 3 straight Australian Opens between '97 and '99, with titles at the US Open and Wimbledon in '97. She was a dominant player, holding the world no. 1 ranking for 209 weeks total.

However, she started suffering injuries and never seemed to play with as much dominance as she did early in her career. She retired in '03, with a failed attempt at a return in '05.

I recently heard that she was attempting another comeback, but I hadn't paid any real attention to her. Then I heard that she made it to the quarterfinals at this year's Australian Open. Next, I heard that she defeated mmmmmmmmMaria Sharapova, a hottie and no. 1 seed, at the Pan Pacific Open in Tokyo. Hmmm... says I. I decided to look into this.

Holy. Mother. Of. Gott!!! She's hot!!! Hingis, that is.

Whenever I heard her name, I thought of her looking like this. A pudgy girl. Heheheh... nothing like that today, folks. This is more recent. Unsure, I found another pic.... no doubt. Mmmmmmmm....

Don't really know what the point of this was, other than to point out that Hingis is no pudgy kid, but a damn hot woman. Heheh... and I'm risking sounding like an old pervert.

Hey... gotta run. The Super Bowl is about to start. Can't miss the cheerleaders....

mmmore Martina...


Posted by That 1 Guy at 05:06 PM | Comments (5)

February 04, 2006


Another voucherization goes out to Moogie, of Moogie's World, who wants to join the Bad Example Clan. Heheheh... I love that she posted her application for membership in the way she did...

Anyway, I vouch for her, and recommend that BEF members do the same if they would like to keep their kneecaps functioning properly...

Posted by That 1 Guy at 04:42 PM | Comments (3)


I woke up today with my sides aching, and my facial muscles sore. Heheh... yesterday was a fine day. I don't think I've laughed that hard in a long, long while.

'Tis good to laugh, and to have friends that will laugh with you, or can take you pickin' on them. Good, indeed.

My friends, you rock.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 02:50 PM | Comments (3)

What Shirt Is It? Updated

So, I'm talking with this certain blogger, who shall remain nameless in order to protect her, and she got to discussing Matt's choice of clothing for his TV appearance. We also discussed the possibility of Matt adding another shirt, besides his Blackfive tee. A shirt made just for Blackfive readers and Blackfive, himself. "The Blackfive Fly Mint Green Shirt". Granted, the shirt in the pic isn't quite the minty fresh color of the actual shirt... that's top secret stuff, until the shirts hit production.

When asked if he's going to wear his trademark shirt, Matt replied, "Did I wear the 'fly mint green shirt'? You'll have to tune in to find out."

In the meantime, we can guess, with the winner getting the chance to wear Contagion's lovely jacket for a month! Yes, he's actually willing to let it out of his sight! What a great guy Contagion is!

To kick this off, I'm going to say that Matt rebels, and wears the "fly mint green shirt," again, despite the uproar it caused last time. Give me your best guess!!!

To find out what shirt Matt chose, and who's guessed the correct answer, tune into CNN tonight, 7pm EST, or tomorrow, 1pm EST.


Well, what the hell? Matt wore a powder blue shirt... that's going to make that fly mint green shirt obsolete. Maybe we'll have to start a whole line for him....

And most of all, great job, Matt. As Laughing Wolf already pointed out, good points and answers. You did well... at least in my eyes....

Posted by That 1 Guy at 02:40 PM | Comments (29)

February 03, 2006

Mélissa Theuriau Update

Mélissa Theuriau loves seafood? Apparently so, according to our favorite goldphish.

While I do think he's been eating bad kelp, I do gotsta say he's got great taste in womens.

And who knows, maybe she's decided that I may be a might too much for her. I mean, a picture says a thousand words, right?


Posted by That 1 Guy at 04:01 PM | Comments (1)


Well, hell... Bloodspite's already disputing my post below, claiming that he's got proof that someone else should be getting credit for Matt's transformation, and he's got photos as proof.

That's what I get for not knowing how to photoshop...

For those who've bothered to click on the link (and you really should), and aren't sure who all is attending to Mr. Blackfive, they be: (from left to right) Contagion, myself, Tammi, Frankie J., and Eric....

Posted by That 1 Guy at 02:15 PM | Comments (2)

Queer Eye For The Blackfive

For those of you who don't know, Matty O'Blackfive is probably going to be making a television appearance this weekend, on CNN's On The Story. Notice... I said "probably." Matt says, "Chances are very good..." Hopefully, this do come about...

In order to avoid another fashion SNAFU like the "infamous green shirt" incident that left many questioning Matt's personal preferences, he's gone to the experts for his wardrobe advice.

"These guys really know what's gay and what isn't," said an impressed Blackfive.


Thanks for the photoshop job, Bloodspite!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 01:22 PM | Comments (4)


Alright, I'm not accusing anyone, but I can't find my Bleach cd. Had a powerful desire to hear "Negative Creep" and "School."

Might have to make a trip this afternoon...

Posted by That 1 Guy at 09:22 AM | Comments (3)

February 02, 2006

Little Things

Somedays, it seems like you just can't make any headway. Trying to make your way up an incline, it begins to rain, and before you know it, you've slid past your starting point. It can be frustrating and more than a bit disheartening.

I'll never say that my life sucks... not truly. I may make jokes along that line, but I don't believe it. I try my damnedest to find humor in things, succeeding most of the time. Sometimes the little things make all the difference.

It was another weird vibe day here at the pub of the Drunken. Can't say what was weird about it, but it definitely was a strange one. All day, everywhere.

Then I got home and found that one of the delivery trucks had been there. A small box was sitting there, outside the door, addressed to me (of course). Inside, two bottles of brew.

Cheers, SilentWarrior! You truly rock!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 03:48 PM | Comments (4)

Cat Gut

Interpetation is a beautiful thing. Music that sounds like crap to one, is another's release. Poetry that dulls one's mind, opens doorways to mind altering beauty for someone else...

Pictures, too, can be taken in entirely different ways. For instance, Ktreva has posted a picture of a cat, with the caption, "Kill'em all, Kitty!" Looking at the pic, I see a cat, taking up arms in the final battle of Armageddon, getting gutshot. Of course, it's tastefully done. No one has to see the feline innards trailing from the eviscerating wound, the blood spilled upon the ground.

But I wish we could... it would make that pic so much better.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 03:20 PM | Comments (3)

Phil Says...

6 more weeks of winter. The ground pig saw his shadow. Cool.

Now if only winter would get here.

Posted by That 1 Guy at 11:11 AM | Comments (7)

February 01, 2006

Bodies As Pranks

I was reading over at Samantha Burns' the other day, and she pointed to a dude who plays dead. He's taken pictures of himself as a dead body, in different positions of death, and displayed them on his web site, Dead Body Guy. One of the pics is of him trapped under his garage door... it reminded me of the "body" we had hanging around our shop for a while.

One of the shippers was walking by a dumpster one day, and noticed part of a leg sticking out from under some of the garbage. Further investigation revealed a whole body. Not knowing what to do, he started asking around. One of the guys from our floor was down in the area, and took charge of the thing, bringing it back up to the bay. What a blast...

First, one of the guys who was built similarly started talking very loudly about how he hadn't gotten any sleep the night before, how tired he was, how he could just pass out. Meanwhile, some of us were dressing the body in some of his spare workclothes. When we finished, and the foreman left the bay, we put it just inside of a large roll shell. Then we went back to our various stations and resumed our jobs.

After few minutes, the foreman came back in, glanced at the shell, and went to his desk. As he started going over some of his paperwork, he kept glancing over at the legs just protruding from the end of the shell. Finally, he got up, walked over, and started talking to "Mike." Soon, he was yelling, and then finally, he drew back and kicked him. He went pale when he saw that it wasn't Mike... and then he turned on us, who were all rolling about the floor. He did eventually laugh, but it took him a long time to see the humour in it.

The body was stashed in an unused freight elevator until we could use it again. It wasn't long... a few days later, the yard crew were moving some large crates around when they found the body sticking out from under one of the crates, a large pool of "blood" spread around it's side. Funny how glyptal lacquer (a sealer used between gearcase halves and on shims and bearing covers) looks like drying blood. Especially on the snow. The yard crew wasn't too happy...

Body was again stashed and brought out about a week later.

We broke the legs, and placed the body in one of the stalls in one of the very quiet restrooms. The door was locked, and stall exited. Over the wall.

One of the old timers used to hit the can just before shift start. He'd spend about fifteen minutes in there, reading the newspaper. An hour later, he'd do the same. He kept this up until he was finished with the paper... usually about four trips. After his third trip, he came back to his workbench and got a couple of guys to go and check it out. He was freaking...

He said he noticed that the guy had been in there for at least three hours, and he was pretty sure that he wasn't just sleeping... Paper Reader had been banging on the stall wall, and shouting, "Hey, buddy!!! You alright in there? Do you need help?" When he and his entourage arrived, one of them popped his head over the wall, and busted out laughing. The door was kicked in so that all could see, and most of them got a good laugh. A few didn't, and the body was removed and properly disposed of.

Ah, the fun a group of guys can have when they discover a mannequin in the trash!

Posted by That 1 Guy at 01:51 PM | Comments (7)

A Question

What on earth is assfilm? Long story as to where that came from...

Posted by That 1 Guy at 12:30 PM | Comments (7)