Don't Worry. No One Ever Died of Insomnia.

"Plain and simple" or "Slain and pimple," which one?

Can you feel it? It's almost Friday...

OK, before I get started, please remind me that I just put on a pan of water to boil, so I can make some ramen noodles... I just know I'll forget it's on there and burn the house down around me while I type here, blissfully engaged in literary expulsion. An etymological pyroclastic flow, if you will... I'm already in the zone, having spent the last hour or so writing the "Games" post that is beneath this one. I figure, I have to squeeze additional posts in between now and the end of the year, to make up for the days I missed at camp. The post count needs to be 365 when it's all said and done. Otherwise I won't get the prize.

You are all going to chip in on a prize if I blog every day for the year, right? Right? I suppose I could copy/paste all of the comments, gather them in a PDF and have a little book published. So start saying really interesting things, will you!? Like just casually drop insults, or deep dark secrets, or profanity-laced rants... that will make for good reading...

What? Oh, nuts! The noodles! Thanks for reminding me. Be right back...

Ahh, nothing quite brings back memories of my days in Phoenix as an art school student like the smell of "10 packs for a buck" ramen noodles. Those were the days! Young and broke and ignorant of the real world and blissfully, casually making life-altering decisions that will deeply impact the rest of my life! There were some good memories, though... riding skateboards outside in a dust storm, covered head-to-toe in dust, except for the clean streaks on my cheeks from my watering eyes. The time lightning struck the big dumpster right outside my bedroom window as I slept. That'll wake you up, make no mistake... flying down the sidewalk, trying to catch the city bus to go to school, arms full of my supplies, hitting a rock, the board stopping, me and my supplies scattering all over the place... that sucked. Eating pizza every afternoon. I mean, every afternoon. As the good book says, when a poor man eats a chicken, one of them is sick...

But back to the noodles. I had a friend that lived in the same apartment complex, who use to make what he called "goulash." I know that's actually the name of a dish, but his version had nothing to do with the real version. His version consisted of making some ramen noodles, then draining them of the broth, putting them back in the pot, and dumping in any condiment he could find in our mostly-empty refrigerator. Ketchup, mustard, soy sauce, ranch dressing, french dressing, anything that was in a bottle was added in and mixed up. Then he/we would eat it. It was different every time. Yes, it was as gross as it sounds.

I had 3 roommates. 4 of us in a little 2 bedroom apartment. Cleanliness was a challenge. I wish I had taken a picture of the shower the day we left, after having 4 skaters rotating showers every day in there for a year without ever cleaning it. Yes, it was as gross as it sounds. Maybe worse, actually... Laundry was also a problem for us, as a group. No one really understood how it worked. We winged it, pretty much. You mix your laundry list with your grocery list, you'll end up eating your underwear for breakfast...

Went to see WWF wrestling at the fair grounds that year. Don't remember much about it, really, except that Mike and I annoyed the kids around us by shouting "Hulk Hogan is gay!" loud and often. We couldn't see much in the nose-bleed seats, that's probably why I don't remember much about the in-ring action. I do remember that The Ultimate Warrior was there. He really did sprint all the way down to the ring, that's a long distance. I don't remember the match, but I remember that sprint.

Also went to see Sam Kinison in concert there that year. Don't remember how I got talked into that one. The man was absolutely filthy. I still feel gross thinking about it all these years later. Yuck. I'm no prude, but you reach a point where you have to wonder, what ever happened to good, honest humor? How much non-stop gutter humor is really necessary? I mean, even Carlin and Murphy would normally also have bits that were funny and clean....

Then there was time we cleared all of the furniture out of our livingroom, grabbed pillows, turned out the lights and had a full-contact, in the dark pillow fight that lasted most of the night. I saw stars on more than one occasion that night. We also would play a game called Ira Ball. There were several variations of this game, but one of our faves was to go into the racquetball court at Ira's apartment complex, teams of two on opposite ends of the room, use a glow-in-the-dark racquetball, turn off the lights. So in the pitch black, with only ball visible, we would play a sort of dodge-ball type game. It was far freakier in real life than it sounds here... you had to be there.

We called it Ira Ball, because one time, we were playing a variation of the game where one person is against the far wall of the racquetball court, and the other player has a tennis racket on the other end (lights on, of course), and the object was for the guy with the racket to try and hit the other guy, and the other guy tried to dodge as long as he could. So Mike had the racket and Ira was dodging at the far end. Mike hit a series of shots that kept picking up speed... on the third shot, he slammed it at Ira, who tried to jump up out of the way, and ended up taking the racquetball directly to his manhood region. Needless to say, he fell like a ton of bricks. He stood up, screaming, ran two steps, then crumpled to the floor again. After he recovered, we all agreed that our game should be called Ira Ball, in honor of the sacrifice he made to the sport. Well, a man can't turn tail and run just because a little personal risk is involved...

Ah, good times.... anyway, enough memory lane. That year in Phoenix changed everything for me.

Man, look at me ramble! What the heck! I better get to some fun stuff now...

He missed the pool. How do you miss the pool?

Unfunny Picture of the Day:

Remind me to thank God every day that I don't live in Indonesia. This is the Citarum River in Indonesia. Yes, it's a river - arguably the most polluted river in the world. This lovely stretch is covered with a thick layer of trash. God didn't do this, we did! Anyone up for a swim? If so, avoid the river, unless you enjoy diseases.

Found that pic in a slideshow about the World's Dirtiest Rivers and Lakes. Pretty sad, indeed.

I watched an hour-long National Geographic show last night about the science behind competitive eating. Just when I think I've seen it all... they had a pair of doctors that studied one of the premiere competitive eaters in the world, trying to figure out how his body dealt with such massive amounts of food. The guy was in great shape too... for the most part, he took really good care of himself and worked out and watched what he ate, etc., but his stomach expands to an inhuman size (they discovered) as he ate, and became a giant storage space, in a way normal people can't. They X-rayed him while he ate, and watched the way his stomach behaved as he ate more and more food... and did the same with a "normal" dude as he ate, and compared the results. It was really wild. One of the top eaters in the world is this Asian lady (Sonya Thomas), who's this skinny, petite thing, who can power down food like you cannot believe, and fast. She holds world records in tons of different categories.



Just cuz people wanna eat the burger doesn't mean they wanna meet the cow. Crazy. Anyway, here's the Hulu link, if you want to watch it, and can get Hulu to work on your computer...

Well, I have other stuff I could talk about, but I think I've expelled enough hot air for today. I'll save the rest for another time. So, good night, you Princes of Maine! You kings of New England! Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go and see if Mr. Tuttle needs a hand. Until tomorrow, remember, mother doesn't like me playing Beethoven... she says I'm always peevish afterwards.