. . . . . . . The Daily Blarf

Saturday, July 24, 2004

the scrambler hit 100,000 miles today! 

my coworker and i did the obligatory Chinese Fire Drill* when the odometer rolled over.  it was a bittersweet moment--i had hoped to be in a new vehicle before 100,000--but that hasn't happened yet.  i'm gettin' close tho--i've found just the right trade-in at work and i'm arranging to buy it.  but i really wish i coulda had it before now so i wasn't burning up 50 precious scrambler miles on my daily commute instead of using them on backcountry four wheeling trails and jeep jamborees.  oh well.  it's still running strong for a 21-year old vehicle, and maybe i can get it to hit 200,000. 

i apologize for the lack of posts lately.  i've been in the middle of another career change and apartment switch.  more details on that later.  soon enough, we (me) at the Blarf will be celebrating yet another milestone--100 posts.  (this is #98!)

the next time you hear from me, i'll be rolling in cash from the new job and rolling in hotties at the new apartment complex.  stay tuned. 


* Chinese Fire Drill:  (chi-nez' fir dril) noun.  1. the act of getting out of the car at a red light, running around the car in random fashion, and getting back in before the light changes.  [Origin:  Latin~chineseous fireous drillicus.]

(no, i'm not racist against the chinese.  i LOVE chinese food.)  (ha ha--another stupid american judging the chinese by substandard, americanized chinese food.  goddamn stupid frigging american.)

cool site you've probably already seen:  www.jibjab.com

Thursday, July 15, 2004


Still got your Malibu?
Oh man, you know what some f**ker did the other day?
            F**kin' keyed it.          
             Oh man, that's f**ked up.           
Tell me about it.  I had it in storage for three years.  It was out five days, and some dickless piece of shit f**ked with it.
They should be f**kin' killed, man.  No trial, no jury, straight to execution.
Boy, I wish I caught him doin' it.  Id'a given anything to catch that asshole doin' it.  It'a been worth him doin' it, just so I coulda just caught him doin' it.
What a f**ker.
What's more chicken shit that f**kin' with a man's automobile?  I mean, don't f**k with another man's vehicle.
You don't do it.  It's just against the rules.

as i threw my arm behind the passenger seat and looked over my shoulder to back out of my spot this morning, i noticed that my belongings were spread out all over the back of my jeep.  i subconsciously thought,
did i do that?  why are my jumper cables on the floor?  did i leave that funnel out?  WHY IS THE LID TO MY STORAGE BOX LYING ON THE BACK SEAT?  WTF IS GOING ON HERE?  
that pissed me off quite enough.  but it wasn't til i was a couple miles from home, in between thoughts of merciless thief beatings, that i thought to myself,
damn, it sure is quiet in here...WHERE THE F**K ARE MY STEREO SPEAKERS?!?
god DAMN it. 
some dickless piece of shit had ripped open the back of my soft top and rooted through my storage bin full of jeep junk and stolen my 10" subwoofer speaker boxes.  as added insult, there is also a small knife hole in one of the plastic side windows.  i'm not sure what was taken out of the bin, if anything, other than a brand new, ultra-sharp machete.  of all things to have stolen--a dangerous weapon--this is probably not the best thing to have out on the streets of syracuse.  i hope the bastard tripped, fell, and eviscerated himself on it as he ran away.  there must be other things gone because the bin has always been overflowing, and now the top fits & snaps on much easier cuz there's less stuff inside.  i guess i'm better off not knowing what's missing, or i'd be even more pissed.
it's not the monetary loss that really bothers me.  what really gets me is the total disrespect thieves have for other people when they do something like this.  it would be one thing if a thief knocked on your door and said, "hey, i'm going to break into your car and steal shit.  if you think you can stop me, go right ahead and try.  here i go."  --but they don't do that.  that would be too honorable (if you can call stealing honorable.)  they have to be cowardly to get the job done.  they have to do it when everyone is sleeping so THE PISSED OFF OWNER DOESN'T BREAK EVERY VERTEBRAE IN THEIR F**KING SPINE WITH A TEE BALL BAT. 
i know it won't do me any good, but i satisfied myself by going to walmart to buy just that--a nice, shiny, 14 oz., 2 1/2 foot long aluminum tee ball bat (also known as a "gangbanger") and i'm DYING to connect it to flesh and bone.  i would gladly let someone steal from me all over again just to have the opportunity break both of their arms so they can't steal anything else for 6-8 weeks. 
yeah, i know--i probably would never do that.  i'd think twice about the legality and morality of doing so if that opportunity knocked, and in that split second, the thieving bastard would have just enough time to grab the bat from me and use it on my skull.  or slash me with my machete.  or both.
surprisingly enough, the dewitt police actually cared.  when filing the report, the cop mentioned there have been many break-ins around this complex lately and they would have to start patrolling here more often.  the guy was really cool--we talked about our bad luck with the state trooper academy--we were both rejected for bullshit reasons.  now he's a seargent with the dewitt police...and i'm soon to be unemployed.   but that's another story. 
so that's my pissmoaning for the day.  oh yeah, i had yet another car sale snatched away from me today.  what a pisser.  that too is another story for another day. 
*BONK*  *WHUNK*  <--the sound a baseball bat makes on skulls.  what beautiful music it is.  i can't wait to hear it. 
~and bonus points go to those of you who know what movie i quoted--come on, it's easy!

Thursday, July 08, 2004

i have a confession to make.

...a very gay-ish confession...

i lightened my hair.

now i know what you're thinking--how could a farm boy, a gearhead, a guy who drinks budweiser, farts, burps, and blarfs--how could i do something so incredibly gay* as to bleach my hair?? well, i don't know.

it was sort of a long-standing subconscious desire combined with spur-of-the-moment thinking while searching the grocery isles for some much needed toilet paper. ever since i plastered my hair with powdered gold poster paint for my vanilla ice impersonation in the 12th grade, i've had a secret desire to color my hair. (hey, it helped our senior class win the air band contest--it must be a good idea!) and i'll be damned if the ladies didn't like it way back then, so how could i go wrong now?

while passing thru the hair coloring section i spotted a box of hair dye with a bleach-blonde guy on the front--clairol extreme FX industrial blonde (sounded manly enough!)

i stopped.

i read the box.

i put it back.

i went and found the toilet paper (single ply/1000 sheets--my favorite!)

i came back.


and i quickly grabbed the box and scampered to the checkout line in utter shame.


my goal was not actually blonde hair. i wanted to simply lighten my ultra-dark brown hair and soul patch to...not so ultra-dark brown. my facial hair is actually blonde & brown anyway, so it should be a smooth transition. so if i used this extreme blonde stuff for just a short while instead of the full 30 minutes, it should do the trick, right? sure!

so i eagerly opened the box when i got home and started reading the instructions. seemed simple enough--mix the chemicals, put it in your hair for 30 minutes, check color after 10 minutes, and rinse when you're done. easy. unfortunately, the instructions said "not for use on facial hair"--one of the main reasons i bought the stuff. to hell with it, i was gonna use it anyway.

those damn chemicals were like chemistry class. mix this. shake that. don't smell it. don't touch shit. i soon discovered why it says not to rub the scalp--it freakin' hurts!! and by the time i had it completely mixed in, i noticed it was working--and working fast. pretty soon i was getting this "holy-SHIT-this-stuff-works-fast" panic when i realized i was going to look like Sisqo in about 2 more seconds if i didn't rinse this stuff out ASAP.

so rinse i did--

--and it didn't look too shabby!

it's just a little lighter brown with a slight shimmer. and the soul patch looks less like a glob of shit and more like a little patch o' blondish scruff. NICE! i might like this.

now for the hard part--making it thru a day at work tomorrow without excessive ragging. that shouldn't be hard since there's a lightning rod for practical jokes in the form of another salesman, so i should be able to deflect most of the ribbing on him somehow.


in other news, i spoke with the wife of one of the new york state trooper candidates yesterday. the academy has been going for about a week now and he hates it--she mentioned the endless PT, no phone privileges, missed meals, sleep deprivation, and other sorts of mental and physical anguish. if one guy screws up, they all get screwed. it sounded a LOT like hell week from my pledge period at alpha zeta--it was a super-bitch. i realize that sounds like a weak comparison, and it probably is, but i would love to have had the opportunity to find out first hand. i wish i coulda had a turn at getting my ass beat in the academy. if i had to quit or got booted, at least i woulda had the chance. but hearing about the hell the candidates are going thru and will continue to go thru for six months (it doesn't let up) gave me a little bit of closure on the whole thing. i still want to try again to get in, but now at least i can focus on other things until that time without being hung up on it--which is really important right now cuz i gotta stop comparing every other job opportunity in the world to the state trooper job.


volleyball weekly:

we had playoffs last night. we were seeded 5th of 12 teams with our record of 4-2. after winning the first playoff game, we advanced to the sorta-semi-finals to play a team that originally beat us way back when the league started. after winning 10 games in a row previously, this was the first time we had ever gone to game 3--and we lost. they won the first game, we won the second, and the third game went ended 15-13. DAMN! so close. but overall, i'm quite proud of our ramshackle, newbie team, and especially myself because i've never been much of a sports all-star. the league starts over next week--and we'll be ready.


*i'm not saying that being gay is bad--not at all. it's just not me. it's not like i'm like this asshole pastor in mexico, NY. (<--click!) a message to the Lighthouse Mexico Church of God (and to anyone else out there who judges a person for being gay): being gay is not a choice, you stupid homophobic bastards. get a clue.