Gaaaaazing

Since I am not done mentally editing my most recent life event, (My trip to the Wal Mart that resembled the Superdome.) I have chosen to share a few of my deep observations.

1. I've heard that King Kong could have been shortened by 1/2 an hour if they only would have cut out all the "gazing." At first I though she said "dancing," and I said, "There is a lot of dancing in King Kong?" And she said "No, gaaazing, you know like staring into each others eyes?" My friend Scott said that we are lucky that it wasn't 6 hours with that Lord of the Rings guy directing it.

2. I see lots of people buying six packs of Old Milwaukee Beer in my local Marathon at 6 in the morning. I was wondering if they were planning ahead for the evening, or were just alcoholics. The early polls of Bloggers named Craig say alcoholics.

3. I will wait until my windshield wipers are practically shredded before I change them. I will try to see out the postage stamp sized area that they actually clean for me. It's not that I get attached to them or sentimental, I'm just too lazy to go to Autozone to get new ones.

Lunch Discussion 12/23/05

What do some of the people responsible for saving your life at the hospital talk about during lunch? Well I'll tell ya.

We all decided that it was "bullshit" that we were having to work today given that Christmas Eve was tomorrow and hardly anyone else had to work.

The debate raged on about why Brad chose Angelina over Jen. Angelina was considered a skank by most, but I countered that Jen was probably a prude. I said that he chose Angelina because she was more of a freak. The girls said that maybe Jen was a closet freak. I said that she may have been at first, but then dialed it down after she settled into the relationship. Brooke still cannot be convinced to make out with ANY chick, not even Angelina.

The discussion then moved onto the grossess of public pools. Brooke refuses to swim in public pools because water that has been in contact with people's buttholes can come into contact with her mouth. A unanimous decision was reached that this was really disgusting. I then recouinted the time I was little and swimming in Wilson Pool near my house and saw a turd underwater. The effectiveness of Chlorine was doubted.

Another mentioned that they would like to go to Kings Island's water park one time, but I said that I'm pretty sure only hillbillies go there. I then stated that The Beach Waterpark is getting old and slimey.

End of lunch.

The Flying Dentures

There are a few things that 8 year olds find absolutely hilarious, that adults don't find funny at all.

We were cruising in our killer van with Cragar mags. My dad had decided that the regular van seating was too expensive when he bought it, but had no problem ponying up the dough for the Cragars. Me and my brothers were sitting in the black love seat my dad had wedged into the back for us.

All was right in the world until he leaned out the window to sneeze, and his false teeth flew out the freaking window and onto the street. Me and my brothers went crazy. It was pandemonium. It's not every day that you see your dad's teeth fly by the window. We were bouncing up on the couch like chimps trying to see the dentures on the road.

This did not strike my father as funny at all. He slammed on the brakes, and pulled a U turn. He was going back to retrieve his teeth. We were told to "shut up, sit down."

I figured that they would be in a thousand pieces, but they weren't. They were barely scathed. I'm pretty sure that he glued them back together and went on with his business. The teeth lasted until the unfortunate day the front wheel flew off his ten speed.

One Legged Baby Jesus

Found.

Ok, Maybe Not...

Michael G 12/13/2005 >>>>

I have no report of a capture.

>>> Craig Breedlove 12/12/2005 9:15 AM >>>
Have your undercover officers caught the perpetrators yet?

Thanks, Craig

Ok, iPod stealer, maybe I underestimated you. I thought that for sure the Special Ops division of the UC Campus police would capture or maim you. The CSI team is now ralleying to look for hairs or microbes or what not. Every crimial leaves a clue. Just don't pay any attention to the orange pylon that is following you around in the garage.

iPod Stealer, You're Going Down

Hey iPod stealer, I hope you like the view from behind bars, because the UC Police department will not rest until they apprehend you. How do I know? I have proof, an assurance from the VP of the hospital that they have a covert operation underway at this moment. And he would never lie to me, would he? Here is a copy of the email, and my response:

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
My response:

They must be REALLY well disguised, because I never see them in there.
Are they dressed as orange pylons by any chance? I have seen those in
there numerous times. Craig



>>> 12/9/2005 1:57 PM >>>
Please give the staff this update.

Manager lady

>>> Michael G 12/9/2005 1:50 PM >>>
Yes, we know (I read all police reports daily) and have been monitoring
it closely. We have both uniformed and plain clothes units in the
garage, as well as our motorist assistant keeping and eye out. Hopefully
we will catch the miscreants.

>>> Manager lady: 12/9/2005 1:31 PM >>>
Michael:

I am sure that you have heard about the many auto thefts that have
occurred in the North Garage. Is there any way to have a security guard
patrol the North Garage on a regular basis?

Manager lady.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>


So, see? They have a top secret undercover operation underway right now. Probably snipers too. So watch your six.

Found!!

If you have read this blog before, you may remember the list of items that have disappeared since I had gotten a roommate. Well, I have good news. My favorite hat has been found!

The hat was recently located underneath the vacuum cleaner caked in baby powder. Yes, I know that in any other house or apartment something lost underneath the vacuum cleaner would probably be found within a week. The baby powder is another story. I'm not sure how it gets everywhere, all I know is that it does.

I am hoping with weeks of rehab the bill can be bent back into the shape it was in before this horrible incident. Luckily, I did not activate the "Love Chip" in my new hat yet.

Thanks for all your cards and letters.

Perfect North Devastation

"Only pussies ski," my friend dutifully informed me when I was trying to decide which to get at the rental booth at Perfect North Slopes. He didn't seem to care that 4 guys standing next to us were holding skis. My friends never cared much about offending other people, and it was one of the reasons I liked hanging out with them. I headed to the slopes, and left behind the booth that I determined smelled a lot like the Cat House at the zoo.

I took a few practice turns and decided that I was ready for bigger things. Besides, the bunny hill is at the bottom of the run, and I decided that it smelled like a septic tank down there. I had arrived at a dangerous point in the learning curve. Good enough to get up enough speed to hurt myself, not good enough to stay on my feet.

I was heading down the hill way too fast for my own good. I leaned back, trying to slow down, then WHAM, I slammed backward square on my ass and head. I slid for about 8 more feet, prone, dazed. I looked up at the stars. I heard my friends laughing at me from the ski lift overhead. "Whoooaa, was that Craig? Wow. Damn, that had to hurt, hahahaha."

I started to take inventory. My head was still attached, but hurting. My board was laying next to me. My hat was gone, and my jacket had come partially unzipped. I started to think about getting out of there before I got ran over when I looked up and saw a Mexican kid with my hat in his hands. "Is this yours?" he said. I just reached up and grabbed it. I think that I said thanks. He then spotted an empty mini liquor bottle and inquired whether that was mine too. I told him that it wasn't, but I'm sure that he didn't believe me.

I slowly gathered myself, and started snow boarding again. I didn't wreck hard the rest of the night. But my head and ass hurt for a week. And I'll always remember the Mexican kid returning my hat to me. And my friends laughing like jackals from the ski lift.

One Car Pile Up

Many times I have gone through the drive thru and wondered just who would be dumb enough to wreck into that pole on the corner before the first window. It always looks likes it has been tagged about 50 times, but I have never seen this actually happen, until today.

I always figured that for someone to hit this pole they would have to have a car full of screaming kids, or be driving a huge car that would be hard to control. I figured wrong. It was a lady in a mini van. The mini van part doesn't suprise me at all, but the fact that it was not full of kids bouncing around was suprising.

I was in mid order when I heard a horrific crunching noise coming from in front of me. I looked up, and her door was grinding against the pole. The pole refused to yield. The lady let go of the wheel and yelled "aack!" This threw me off of my game. I lost my ordering rhythm. I was distracted by the lady leaning out of her van door looking down on what she had done. She had cut the turn waaaay to early, and now was trying to back off the barrier. I repeated that I wanted a "plain" cheesburger, not a "painful" cheeseburger to the girl taking orders.

The accident was made even more horrific by the fact that the van was a gleeming white. Now it looked like a brown Buick had sideswiped it. She dislodged the family sedan and proceeded to the window. She mentioned nothing about the crash to the kid taking money. I know this because I asked him. He just looked at me. I just remember thinking that he had a tremendous amount of rubber bands on his braces.

I started to pull out of the drive thru and I remember wondering how exactly you report that to the insurance company. I mean, it's not like the pole is going to jump out in front of you while going 60 mph. (See Deer Story below.) Then I noticed that they had forgotten my straw for my drink, how annoying.

Ha, suckers

Dear iPod Stealer,

Thanks for breaking the window of my truck. I sure hope that you didn't cut yourself on all of the glass. It was great driving to work in 18 degree weather. It was such a rush! I just imagined I was in the Iditorod Sled Dog race, mushing my loyal companions to work.

Oh, there is something I should let you know. That iPod's hard drive is shot. It will cost you $250 to fix. It's not normal for an iPod to click constantly and heat up to about 200 degrees. The people at The Apple Store will be glad to help you. Just ask them where the Genius Bar is. Oh, a genius is someone who is smart, or someone that you will never be confused for. If they ask for a receipt, just tell them you'll try to steal it later and bring it back. Also, you forgot the headphones, sportwatch, and expensive protein powder that were sitting right next to the broken iPod. Let me know if you are interested. Those items are related to exercise, so I'm starting to understand why you left them.

In parting, thanks again for letting me experience the rush of artic air on the way to work. And in case you are curious yes, my new video iPod is awesome and no you can't borrow it.

Craig

This has got to stop

What the hell is with the naked guy in the locker room? I would rather stand next to someone on fire than some naked hairy dude at the gym. Are you that person? Stop it. Or at least hurry the hell up and get dressed. Don't stop and watch the tv, don't adjust your watch, get dressed. I can't possible be expected to bend over and get my gym bag when you are pulling this stunt. I am imprisoned by your nakedness.

Who Knew the Dollar Store Rocked So Hard?

Like you, I always drove by the Dollar Store thinking that it was the ghetto of the discount chains. I always thought that it probably smelled funny, and specialized in off brand perfumes and toys that would snap within 10 minutes of opening. Well, all of those assumptions are correct, but, they have tons of killer deals there also.

The candles burn quicker, but are pretty cheap, the detergent isn't the usual rip off like at Kroger, and I found a nice set of hair clippers for $10. Medicine, generic but somewhat effective.

So, if you don't mind being the only customer with private health insurance, I say give the Dollar Store a go.

Every Morning

Every morning I go through the same routine. I get ready like you do, and leave the apartment around 6:20am-6:30am. From there I always go straight to the gas station down the street. On my way in I pass the 6-8 kids waiting for the bus. On my way out, they are always gone, like they have been abducted while I was inside.

I am the only person that goes to this store that does not buy cigarettes. I always buy the same things. I pick up the Fudge Round, put it down, pick up the Snack Cakes, and put them back. I choose the Oatmeal Cream Pie, every day. Then I go to the pop cooler. I look at the Red Bull, look at the Mountain Dew Amped, open the cooler, and pick a Diet Mountain Dew, every day. Sure, it crosses my mind to buy a Orange Mountain Dew, but those don't come in diet there, so, it's always regular.

Also, everyday, I always seem to get in this impromptu mini footrace with some hick to get to the counter. We don't bust out into a sprint or anything. But we both know what's happening. It means more to him to win than me, so I let him have his little victory.

I saw a guy with an awesome freaking mullet and mustache this morning. I wished I had my digital camera, but it is broken right now. He drove off in a Grand Prix with three shades of primer on it.

The Indian guy at the counter has gotten to know me. The lottery scratch offs do very well there, but I don't bother with them. My Cream Pie and Mountain Dew cost $1.37. He rings it up before I can set my things down. I usually have exact change.

Then I'm off to work. As long as the stupid train isn't going by.

Where's My Stuff?

Stuff of mine that has disappeared since getting a roomate:

-Large green bath towel

-Favorite hat

-Leftover "Rattlesnake Pasta" from Longhorn Steakhouse

-Kill Bill vol. 1 & 2

-Several bottles of shower gel


Stuff that hasn't disappeared, but could any day:

-Pet turtle

-Aqua Teen Hunger Force box set

-The chips and salsa I bought last night


Stuff that is probably safe:

-Any of my books

-Tweezers

-Scented candles

2 Quick Things

I saw a sign today on the way to work. It was orange and said:

CAUTION:
RAISED MANHOLES

It made me laugh a little. I want to steal that sign.

Also, I think that Aqua Di Gio is becoming the next Drakkar.
Go for the Armania Mania.

Other Blogs

I just decided to check out a blog recommended on the home page. I thought that PuppetVision Blog was a cool sounding name for a blog. But it turns out that it really is a blog about puppet vision. How lame.

E-Check Purgatory

It all started when a deer decided to destroy my truck. I just saw a blur, and then airbag dust. It was a 5 point buck, the deputy told me, and I decided to take his word for it. So, I had to buy another truck, and this meant I had to go through E-Check.

E-Check, for lack of a better term, is the state's way of "sticking it in, and breaking it off." It's to make sure that your car or truck isn't personally destroying the ozone layer. Oh, those semis, buses, and dump trucks you see, those are exempt, but the 2004 Civic your neighbor is driving, it needs E-Checked.

I went to the station expecting the worst. Surley, pseudomechanics lay in wait to take advantage of your car, sticking things into it's tailpipe, snooping around the undercarriage, then taking your $19.50. My previous trips to the station had left me somewhat bitter about taking my time and money.

So, I'm 5th in line. There are 6 bays for cars, but for some reason they are only using one. "Great," I think to myself. After a few minutes, I decide to turn my truck off, defying the sign that asks me to keep my engine running while waiting. It's my way of sticking it to the man, I decide. Then, something amazing happens, they open up 4 other bays. "Break time must be over," I reason.

I am approached by a younger guy that I assume hates his job and everyone that drives though it. But, I am caught off guard by his politeness. He's pretty friendly, and checks my truck into the computer. I offer up the title that I had to haurange the dealership out of a couple of days earlier, but he just says, "I gotcha, man," and opens up the waiting room.

In the waiting room, I check out the people and try to match them up with their cars. It's turns out to not be that hard, because everyone is staring their car down like it may burst into flames any second. I see a Mexican guy with a Suzuki Sidekick, a old guy with his venerable Buick, and a young couple with a Cavalier that has a seat cover that says "Princess" on it.

We all pace back and forth like nervous parents to be. There is a tense vibe to the room. I didn't think that some of these cars would run, let alone pass some test. My prediction comes true when the Suzuki fails. I overhear the lady trying to tell the poor Mexican guy to give the thing a tune up and try again later. He's not quite sure what she is saying, and I remember thinking that if I only knew the spanish word for "sparkplug" I could save the day. But, I don't, so I didn't.

He's replaced by a Rastafarian none to happy about this "scam." He starts talking to me, and I join him in his class warfare. He thought that E-Check had ended. I told him that Kentucky had stopped doing it, then piled on by telling him that the guys in Columbus that came up with this program don't even have to abide by it. I see the look of suprise, then anger on his face. He decides that someone must be getting rich off this thing.

Just as I see the Cavalier Princess drive off victorious, I notice my truck being driven to the rollers, then over them completely. Turns out, my truck didn't even have to be driven. The computer figured that it would pass anyway, so it went it right through. Kind of a hollow victory, I figure.

The whole thing from start to finish took 24 minutes. As I am getting ready to drive off, I hear the Rasta Guy's test results. "Congratulations, sir. It's a Stratus."

The Balloon

I was headed to the local Marsh grocery store to feed my Pac Man addiction when I happened across a balloon with a note attached to it.

I picked up the note and it read: "If found, call this number. Reward! Timmy" It was obviously a kids handwriting. But "Reward!" with an explanation point? This Timmy had to be serious. I figured anyone letting perfectly good helium balloons go must have some rich parents, so I brought the balloon and the attached note home with me.

I wondered how far the balloon had traveled. Whenever I had let go of a balloon it had soared into the stratosphere, gradually fading to a speck, and then gone. Just like the dozen or so kites I had lost because of a half assed knot I had tied onto the spool in my rush to get it into the air. Now I would know just how far a balloon can travel on it's own. Surely this Timmy was from several counties away.

My mom had me convinced that this Timmy was going to be my new best friend. We could become "pen pals", whatever that meant. As I dialed, I just thought of the reward. Money? Baseball cards? Balloons?

A lady answered. After she got Tim to the phone I told him that my name was Craig and that I had his balloon. He asked me where I found it. I told him near Marsh, and asked him where he had let it go. He said that his family had just enjoyed dinner at Ponderosa, and on the way out he released the balloon with the note. He did this about 20 feet from where I found it. We both agreed that the balloon had not gotten very far. I reminded him that there was still this little matter of a reward. Timmy told me that he wrote that on there just so that whoever found it would call him back, and that there was no reward.

After a pause, I hung up the phone on Timmy.

Enter As Often As You Like

The 12 girls in the orange cowboy hats were heckling me.

They were the "Gator Getters." Girls hired by the University of Florida to show recruits around. There I was, standing at midcourt with 10,000 people staring at me, being heckled by girls in orange cowboy hats. I finally turned to look at them.. Turns out they weren't heckling me, they were shouting advice to me. Little did they realize, they were in for a special suprise. I had been practicing all week, and I didn't need their advice. The horn sounded, and I took off.

While in college, I worked in the bowels of the basketball stadium. The official name was the Stephen F. O'Connell Center. Everyone called it the O'Dome. I was chained to a desk at the entrance of the weightroom checking student ID's. Every once in a while they freed us so we could rack weights and go on 10 minute breaks. One day while walking around on my break, I was lured upstairs by the smell of nacho cheese. They were getting ready for a basketball game that night. That's when I spotted the pile of entry forms stacked next to the drawing box. I looked both ways, and grabbed about 200 of them.

At halftime of all the home basketball games they drew a name of a student. If this student could make a layup, a free throw, a three pointer, and a half court shot all in 30 seconds, getting their own rebounds, they could walk away with $10,000. Mostly, they walked off the court to a chorus of boos. I saw people even miss the layup. I booed them myself. I was now filling out about 200 entry forms to get my shot.

All week I had been practicing the routine at the basketball court behind my apartment. My hand ached from filling out the forms, but the next game was coming up, and I wanted to be ready. My roomate came snooping around to see why I had taken a sudden interest in basketball. After hearing my plot, he agreed to come to the game for support.

I wore sweatpants, basketball shoes and a t-shirt to the big game. Auburn was coming to town, and I was ready. I stuffed 4 boxes with 50 or so entries, found my seat and waited. They call the name with about 5 minutes to go in the half. As the time got close, I started getting nervous. Really nervous. Finally, the big moment, I look at my roomate, they call my name.

I couldn't feel my legs as I walked down to the court. My heart was racing. What had I done now. I showed the girl my student ID and waited. I looked up at the scoreboard. We were losing. I asked the girl if I could hold on to the ball. She said, "No, that's not allowed." I said "I'm not allowed to hold the ball?" She said "Nope," without looking away from the game.

Standing at half court, I noticed that the line was much further from the basket than the line at my apartment. The "Dazzlers" were bouncing around me, performing their halftime show. The horn sounded, and I took off running. What was the advice the Gator Getters had? Don't dribble. I tucked the ball under my arm as I ran towards the hoop. I heard them give a little cheer.

The layup nearly rimmed out, but dropped through. I heard a smattering of applause. I ran to the free throw line, let it go and it went in. I heard a little more applause. I knew as soon as I let go of the three point shot I knew it was going in. As I picked the ball up and ran towards the half court line, I saw 13 seconds on the clock. I could really hear the crowd now. I took a deep breath, backed up and made a running shot. As soon as I let it go I could tell it was heading left. It had the distance, and must have looked better from the stands, because I could hear a collective "Oooh!" from the crowd when it missed. They gave me an honest ovation, and I heard "Sign him up!" several times.

The stingy girl with the ball was now my friend. She ran up to me and patted me on the back and told me how exciting it was. Then she handed me Pizza Hut gift certificates and a voucher for any pair of Reebok shoes I wanted, unless they were the new "Pumps" that had just come out. All that for making the other shots.

I know this is long. I know you don't believe me. I tried to get a tape of the finest athletic moment of my life to prove that this really did happen. The sports info guy said he had half of it on tape, and to pick it up next week. When I stopped by, he regretted to inform me that the camcorder had been stolen at the Mississippi State game, and it had my tape in it.