Sunday, August 15, 2010

The good with the bad...

Some experiences are great, they teach you, leave you with those warm fuzzies, and you remember them for years to come, you learn, and pass along knowledge. Great

Some experiences are bad, but they still teach you, they leave you angry and confused, and wanting of your wasted time. Meh.

Then there are those experiences that just make no sense whatsoever, they don't leave you happy, they don't leave you angry and they surely don't teach you anything. Everyone has them, and they usually end up in the recycle bin forgotten as just one of life's odd mysteries.

I have more than my share of those. Some are funny, and some I will try and forget. Forever. This one was great because I was questioned by the police (innocently, I might add) and even got a rookie cop to nearly vomit. Those are braggable experiences, no?

It all started a few years ago (this whole story takes place then) My sister and I went for a little vacation to Oceanside California to visit my brother and sister-in-law while they were still Marines. It was an awesome weekend, filled with memories of the first type. We spent a lot of time at the beach, and eating seafood, which, in Utah, is something we don't tend to get a lot of.

Outside of our knowledge, sometime during that week, our 8 foot chest deep freeze failed, meaning all of its contents were baking and stewing in the mid-july temperatures. But, back to California.

The last day there, we went to the beach, and thinking I would work on my tan, decided to forgo the use of sun screen. This act would bring about the second form of life's experiences for me. It's not just bad that I had a bubbly sun burn, but when we flew back to Utah, it was 30 degrees warmer and the person that picked us up was driving a convertible.

For the record, my skin felt somewhere safely between magma, and the surface of the sun. I'm quite sure I could hear myself sizzling over the sound of the freeway speed winds. I figured I would get home and would be able to aloe my burns away. The adventure that greeted me could be smelled on the wind a city block away. I, however, brushed the smell off as random road kill, thanked our ride, grabbed our luggage and walked into the house.

I was greeted by a smell I can only describe as something like week old large animal road kill, blended on liquify with skunk, seafood slurry(I'll talk about that sometime later) and unwashed gym feet. I stumbled back away from the smell and fell down the stairs on our front porch. You know how when someone stares are you, you can tell and you don't even have to make eye contact? Well, our neighbors were staring at us. All of them.

They didn't look mad, they certainly didn't look happy, I would have to say they all looked worried. I didn't think so until later.

Well, we found the source and did our best bagging the heaps of decomposing meat a few times over and putting them in the garbage cans, which would not get emptied for another week. Life went back to normal for the next couple of days. One day, I came home from work, and I came home to one of our neighbor kids just sitting in my room playing around with some of my stuff. He didn't understand a word that I was saying, and when I shouted at him to leave, his reply was simply: que?

Understanding that this wasn't going to work, and that I was very grumpy and tired, I grabbed a replica sword from my wall, mustered up the best movie-quality battle scream that I could and charged the poor innocent soul. I can only imagine the terror this kid felt when he saw me running at him, screaming with a fake weapon less dull than an inflated water balloon. Needless to say, he ran, up the stairs, out the back door and into the arms of his mother outside, who was very concerned and very angry. At which one of us, I wasn't sure until she started yelling at him. Given that she was speaking in spanish, I couldn't understand a thing she said, but in my head I was satisfied that he wouldn't do it again, so I went in the house and got ready to go see a movie.

I don't recall the movie, but I do recall coming home and seeing multiple cop cars in front of my house, with detectives scanning the area around my house. I figured they were looking for us because of the smell, so I got out of the car and offered my assistance. The lead cop approached me, and as far as I could tell, he was some sort of detective.

"Son, can you tell me what in the world is causing this smell?"

"Yes, it's a couple week old ripe meat from our now broken freezer."

"Well, we received a couple of calls from concerned citizens that there were bodies buried in your yard"

I nearly laughed out loud, but replied to him as calmly as I could that I would show him the freezer and that he was more than welcome to check the garbage can.

He wasn't satisfied with the freezer, so I showed him to the garbage can. When he flipped the lid, he staggered back gagging and ordered a rookie to go in there and open the backs, to make sure I wasn't lying.

I've never seen blood drain from a person's face so fast in my whole life. They tipped the can over and he started rifling through nasty, soupy, rotten meat. This man's ability to refrain from vomitting was pretty astounding. I can't even image how much he hated the detective. After a haphazard search, they determined that there were in fact no dead bodies and went on their merry ways.

Lesson learned? If you're going to keep a freezer full of meat, check it out from time to time to make sure it's in working order.

Saturday, August 14, 2010

Have you ever...?

I thought about leaving this post as open ended as the title, just to see if anyone would come up with something, but then it dawned on me that I haven't updated in so long, most people have probably forgotten that at times I like to write. I really would apologize, but so few people in the world are actually die-hard enough bloggers that update on a daily or even monthly basis. Don't believe me? Well, before I got here to write, I had to remember my address, it had been that long. In the meantime, I searched for different variations of my name, only to find that all the variations hadn't updated since 2008. That even predates this site. So, no complaining!

So, to finish the initial question... have you ever won a geek fight, and then was proud of said victory? If you actually have the guts to say no, I'll call you a liar, because you're on the internet, and as anyone knows, the internet is serious business. I, myself, have often caught myself falling for the internet rage and have argued with people over the most trivial and stupid things ever. Things that no human in his or her right mind would ever spout off about in public. Sadly, for me, today was one of those days.

And it was about Star Trek... of all things.

First and foremost, I would like to think I'm not actually a trekkie (or as they prefer to be called, trekker, mere semantics if you ask me, but whatever puts the power in your hands) Sure, I grew up on Star Trek, it was one of the few tv shows or movies my parents would let me watch, I even played most of the games and have recently started the online version. Would this normally make me a Star Trek Super Nerd? An a.k.a. Trekker? Well, yes and no. While this is behavior you would most often associate with Trekkers, I will always draw the lines at dressing up in whatever color of uniform and running around like a madman making laser sounds. (That brings up a side note, did you know there are Trekker dating sites? People get all bent out of shape with different religions nowadays, but really, that doesn't match the indoctrination of the standard Trekker union. I wonder if the babies pop out in different color uniforms, which again makes me wonder if the parents fear for the child that comes out with a red shirt on... but I digress)

I had an argument today on Facebook... yes, Facebook. I'm as surprised as you. This argument started when someone said that Star Trek 3 was better than Wrath of Khan. And yes, even as I read this, I heard the audible gasp. You can pick your jaw up off of the floor and breathe. Now, when I strongly disagreed with the other person, they told me I was living in a delusion. And you know what? In hindsight, I totally agree, and if Rational Jay was having this heated discussion, he would've agreed and dropped it. But no. Irrational Jay was having this heated discussion, so what did IJ do? He went to RottenTomatoes, the source of all civilized film opinion in the universe and quoted the statistics there... I won't say them, but Khan won, but there really was no surprise there.

That of course, didn't work, because critics are wrong more than half of the time, so I needed to find another source of information that would back of my claims. What I'm about to tell you should probably not be spoken, but I'm going to out of pure shame.

Someone created a statistic, long ago, that completely validates my point in a purely mathematical and scientific way.

I was shocked on two fronts. One that I was able to find said statistical survey, and two, because someone made it. And it completely makes sense.

That ended the fight by itself(either that, or the other dude just walked away, which, again, I should have done, but didn't). I was the proud victor of the Queen Mother of all Nerd Fights. It was a fleeting victory, however. It wasn't long because I realized what I had done and had then wished it all away. Those are the fights that even when you win, you lose. The thing is, I don't feel bad. I doubt there's a single person in this world who hasn't won a nerd fight, and for those of you out there who are proud of those facts, I salute you. You're braver than I am.

Friday, April 10, 2009

People remember the darndest things.

I learned a very important lesson today, and at work no less. Who knew?

As I was closing my shift up for the day, someone walked into the office and was chatting it up with one of my coworkers, who had a very concerned look on his face when the person said he could do magic. Out of all the looneys that come in here, he's worried about the guy 'who can do magic'. My friend doubts it, but the guy is insistent, so my friend asks him to perform. So, the customer points at me, closes his eyes, and says... "His name is Jay."

Odd, because I'm pretty sure I've never seen this guy. Ever.

Again, he's insistent, so I have to know.

"How do you know my name, have you come by here before?"

"No, but I know you."

Often enough, at this point I'll laugh, say something like "Thanks for watchin'!" and head off in the opposite direction, leaving them to wonder if I'm on tv or something too, but I couldn't in this situation, so I pushed and tried to figure out where he knew me.

"Seriously, how could you possibly know me?"

"Remember? We were in training together at Nu Skin"


That was EIGHT friggin' years ago. After that training group I never (repeat: NEVER) saw another member of my training group. The training was a couple of weeks, and I pretty much kept to myself. I thought it was a little more than just plain creepy that he not only remembered me, but my mannerisms in that training class, and some of the answers I provided there.

Seriously, I barely remember working for Nu Skin. It wasn't exactly the happiest time of my life. Honestly, I was pretty curious about who he was, but he seemed really offended that I couldn't remember his name and stormed (that's right, stormed) out of our office. I'm thinking in eight more years he'll find me again and either pull another magic trick, or I'll be the target of some rage induced, gun toting, carnage. In either case, I'm very weirded out.

This just goes to show you, there are people that can remember EVERYTHING. These are people who could excel at school given their natural ability to never forget anything, but no, they choose, instead, to be as creepy as 38 year old dudes who hang out at high school football games to 'relive the dream'.

Be careful how you act infront of random people, I guess.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009


So, I've heard that Habaneros are hot. I didn't really believe it, but I heard it. I just figured somewhere around the spiciness of a Jalapeno, maybe a little hotter. Meh.

It turns out, that on the Scoville Scale Jalapenos are ranked at number 4 on the list with between 2500 and 8000 heat units, or whatever they call it, I guess it's SR according to the world's most reliable online encyclopedia (sarcasm /off) Conversely bell peppers are ranked at 0 with 0 SR. What I didn't know yesterday, is that Habaneros rank in at 8 with between 100,000 and 350,000 SR. So, at the maximum of around 40 times hotter than a Jalapeno. In terms of scale alone there are only two peppers hotter than the Habanero.

So, yesterday, my roommate wanted to make some spicy sauce and bought a few of them along with a selection of other peppers. He was also nice enough to save a habanero for me, since I was curious and kind of wanted to try one.

Was I in for a treat!

Here's the story, as accurate as I can remember, and undoctored despite my embarrassment:

Habaneros are little, balbous and orange. I think it might be to disuade you from eating them. In any case, when my roommate was done making his homemade death sauce, he handed me the pepper, and I, being the cautious soul that I am, nibbled the bottom corner of the pepper. Heh, not bad, I thought. Kind of sweet, tastes a little like a bell pepper. Not hot in the slightest. I took another bite, bigger this time, and still no spiciness. I figured I was home free, so I took an even larger bite on top of one of the others. Little did I know, that the actual hotness isn't in the fruit of the pepper, but in the seeds and the meat in the chamber inside. This bite contained just a tiny amount of that ribbing, though I can't be sure if there was a seed in there.

Seconds later I felt my lips go a mysterious numb, and then the heat got rapidly turned up from a balmy, yet comfortable room temperature to a close approximation to the surface of the sun, and no, it was not done yet. Exactly .03 seconds later the heat had proceeded from my lips to the little hanging ball at the end of my throat, commonly known as the Uvula. Beyond that the reaction was pretty immediate, and I entered panic mode. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to be tasting besides pain and I just started running around the kitchen screaming about the heat, to which my roommates started laughing, hysterically. Instics drove me to the fridge and I pulled out all of my roommates' milk to find my gallon, anxiously awaiting a purpose in the back of the fridge and right from the container I had to have downed at least a quarter, and much to my panic, it had done nothing for me.

Amidst the tears of laughter my two roommates scramble for some sugar water while I run to the door and fling it open, for what purpose I don't yet know. I stood on our porch and started sucking in the cool post winter air in long, very loud gasps, to which my neighbors all found hilarious. I run back into the apartment and start trying to work the little twisty tie on the bread, but keep tying it tighter rather than opening it. Finally after what seemed like hours my roommates finish stirring the sugar water and I start to down it. I swish that stuff around like listerine and for a few seconds clarity returns and I can no longer feel the pain. In the garbage is all that remains of the pepper, and on the floor are partially chewed up pepper bits.

After about 10, or 20 good minutes and half a gallon of sugar water normal functions returned in my mouth and my roommates stopped laughing.

Habaneros are hot. Unless you're really bored, just ignore the urge to try one.

Tuesday, March 31, 2009


So yeah, today Blogger flagged my blog as a SPAM blog. Rather interesting.

I get an email that says my blog is disabled because an automated system, using some algorithms said that my blog was controlled by an automated system.



I really want to get a good look at those algorithms, or the people who are writing them. Seriously.

What if...?

Given the nature of my job, I've asked myself (on many occasions no less) what this world would be like if there were no stupid people.

Oh yeah. I work in a parking office.

But seriously, what would this world be like if there were no stupid people? Let's put on our thinking caps and our imagination wrist watches and go to what many would consider a utopia.

First and foremost there would be no need for the police department. In fact, there probably wouldn't be much in the way of conflict altogether, so you can pretty much off the necessity for a military. I wouldn't have a job, at least not here because there would be no need for this office. Hospitals would most likely not exist as we know them, sorry plastic surgeons, there really isn't a reason for you.

The Judicial system wouldn't exist either, that means no lawyers. I can name a few people that probably grinned at that one. If there's no need for a Judicial system, we could probably just do away with the political system altogether.

There would be no reason for the existence of the following websites (which I might add brings sorrow to my soul, given that they're so funny, but I digress, this is imagination land, follow along.)

There would be no debt, social distinction or variety. The world would be overpopulated by people nature thought were better suited examples than leaders. We would all be probably still wearing white togas, and, and, and, and...

Wow... the world would be so boring.

So Stupid People, I wanted to thank you. Without you the world would be pretty boring a bleak. Thank you for making us hate you so much that we love to have you around.

Monday, March 30, 2009

Tic Tac Sir?

Ok, Ferrero manufactures Tic Tacs for a reason, and it's not just because they're shiny.

I know I'm not the only person in the world who makes a conscious effort to make sure that if I'm going to be speaking to someone close, that my breath is at least somewhat presentable. The real problem is really just a few bad apples, and for them; because of them, I have developed a scale

1: Minty! Congratulations, you just brushed your teeth, swished around some listerine, are chewing some gum or found those tic tacs rattling around in your backpack. You get an imaginary gold star.

2: Stale! This is neutral. Your breath is neither good, nor bad. The gum in your mouth could use a refresher, but you're not offensive. We appreciate this as much as number one, sometimes more than one because it's never too far out of hand if it's stale.

3. Dairy! Yay, believe it or not, but locally we rarely notice this. We here in the USA eat a lot of dairy, so when someone comes in smelling of old dairy this barely registers. So, cereal eaters of the world unite, grab your spoons and chow down.

4. Coffee Breath! I'll be the first to admit, coffee smells pretty good when it's freshly on the pot. Coffee, however, does NOT! Smell good when it's passed halfway through your digestive system and the protest of the consumption thereof is the only thing left in your mouth. Aged mouth coffee smells pretty horrible. Please, if you drink coffee, think of the children.

5. Smoker Breath! Whether it be last week's weed, or this week's camels, smoke breath is pretty bad, and no, menthol cigs don't help the situation at all. I don't care if you smoke, by all means in fact, but if you just huffed a pack before walking into my office. Please, for the love of everything holy, take a breather, chew some gum, swallow some juice, but don't just walk in .000329 seconds after you tossed the butt. If you ignore that, can you please not lean closer to me with every single word you speak?

6. Anti-Dentite! For whatever reason, you have decided that dental hygine is a bunch of malarky. Floss? What is that? It's for between your teeth, although, I will agree that setting up a midnight trip line in the bathroom to snag a pesky roommate is fun, please try it out. You only bleed the first few times. It DOES get better. For all parties involved. Toothpaste isn't just for staining white lettering into peoples' cars, try a little up-down/side-side/wax-on wax-off on those pearly whites, it does more than polish! Last, but most definitely not least, listerine! Not just a cheap substitue for booze, but an oral antiseptic. That burning feeling? Yeah, that's millions of stink causing bacteria crying out in pain and clawing for a safe haven in your now cleaner mouth... What? Why? Oh, fine! It's not really that, but anywhere that burns is a place in your mouth that it's reaching and therefore killing off the stinkies.

7. What just crawled into your mouth and died?! As the name suggests, something ain't right, and as much sorrow I feel that it's 'natural' that still doesn't explain the lack of gum or the afore mentioned tic tacs. I also don't really care if you broke Outback's: "Who-can-down-64-ounces-of-almost-still-mooing-beef?" record. Something tells me that after your little stint last night neither floss nor toothpast, let alone listerine was used last night. Yeah, your mouth smells like the skunk you passed along the freeway here. By the way, you're still wearing your bib.

8. Uncontrollable Gag Reflex?! I'm quite sure you tried gum, but anything short of depleated uranium melts in your mouth and dribbles out the side. The sad part? You're completely oblivious. This happens so often that you gave up long ago and have since come to terms with the ticking biological weapon in your mouth. I'm pretty sure the next biological catastrophe won't be an accidental government super flu escapee, nor will it be some terrorist plot. Zombie day will occur when you accidentally (or purposefully, who's counting?) bite someone on the arm.

That's it. No 10, after 8 it doesn't seem to matter anymore. Please, keep wrigly's, Ferrero, Life Savers, and trident in business and spend your pocket change on something that will aid society today.