Saturday, November 24, 2012

Sounds a little bit like...

  • Buck
  • Cluck (The producers told me they'd accept it)
  • Muck
  • Stuck 
  • Shuck
  • Huck
  • Yuck
  • Luck
  • Duck
  • Puck
  • Tuck
  • Pluck

  • Meh, I'm still depressed. 

    Friday, November 16, 2012

    Ray for a day

    I was working with an electrician yesterday, hooking up some power to some office cubicles.  The whole time we worked together he kept calling me "Ray", with this thick Mexican accent. He either had me mixed up with someone else, or was trying to mess with me.  You'd think that this would bother me--it didn't.

    When someone calls you by the wrong name the first time, you usually correct them, or politely let it slide, only to eventually correct them the second or third time.  I corrected this gentleman today and he got upset that I let him carry on calling me Ray.  When asked why I did, I said, "Because I thought it was funny". After that, he pronounced my real name with a hard emphasis on the "tt".  If you know my last name, you'd figure out fast why "Ray", "Joe", or "Jack" would make for a hilarious first/last name combo.

    Even though this guy was either pissed at me, or faking like he was pissed to further mess with me, I like working with the old guy.  I wonder what would happen if I started calling him Cheech? Something tells me he would probably like it.  I don't think Human Resources would like it as much. Hmmm.  Maybe I should just tell the director of HR to donate her knickers to the Boy Scouts--knots and such. Boy, that'd be swell.  Um, where was I? Oh yes, being Ray for a day was fun. The End!

    PS. If you think I am bad, I know of someone who took two whole years to tell someone that his name wasn't Steve.

    PSS. If you are wondering why this post ended the way it did, well, I'm garsh dern tarred. The End.

    Friday, November 02, 2012

    Where rocks call home

    A week ago I went on a day trip to the lovely state of "Potatoho" with my dad and brother. It was to a place that my father had always wished to visit, being a rock climber in his younger years, but never did. My father's advanced age keeps him from enjoying many things.  Without mom around, it's up to his boys to get him out and have an adventure. I got to use an sweet Nikon to take some shots. I took so many shots, but these several I thought would make for a succinct post. There is so much more to this place; here is a taste.
    I still can't believe that I took this shot.  I can't take credit for creating the landscape, the weather, and the lighting, but I sure as hell know where to stand, point the camera, and shoot.

    I had to get one awkward self portrait of myself to prove that I was there.  Since then, I cut my hair and joined a cult--it was that powerful a place.  Well, it wouldn't be the first time that happened, a-tee-hee!

    Pioneers be taggin' this shit.

    One of the many things to look forward to after the "harvest" of man: views unobstructed by modern civilization.

    Fifty miles to the horizon and thirty to Highway 81, via dirt roads.  You don't have to go this way, but where else are you going to see such beautiful nothingness?

    I've done a couple of awesome hikes as well that I will post about in the future. Make sure to click on the photos to enlarge them.