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Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Does it pay to stay positive?

 From what happened to me last week( a glimpse of my life was included in this post), I should not have wanted to go out this weekend. Being without a job and definite place to stay put me in a situation that most would use a hefty amount of caution before treading upon the waters that I dove right into.

 I went to the bar. After seeing what kind of sleeping arrangements I could make, I walked to my favorite hole-in-the-wall. It's less of a hole and more of a portal to a safety zone full of suds and buds.

 Although I usually bring my laptop to get some writing and commenting done,( a bar with wi-fi! yes!), this time I was sans technology. I just wanted to sing at the karaoke and play some pool with some dear friends. Since I like the narrative and I enjoy writing of myself in the third person, the rest of this story is going to be written with a different point of view.

 Shock sat down on the bar stool, and it echoed his intentions of release in an audible escape of air under his bony backside.


'I love that sound', Shock thought to himself before deciding what brew he will taste first. But before he could go through all the options in his head, he was interrupted by none other than Malevolent Mick.

 "Hey! I know you hear me talking to you!". Mick splattered bits of fried mushroom out of his malevolent maw while addressing Shock in one of the rudest manners possible.  Shock did not even look his way. If he did so, it might turn this night from fun to fighting in a flash. Shockgrubz wished to be positive about everything, even losing his job due to Malevolent Mick's incompetence and ultra-competitive nature. Shock gave his ex-co-worker a passing wave with the backside of his hand to show acknowledgement as well as his annoyance. "You know you left your jacket at the jobsite. You want it back, don't you?".

 It seems that Mick did not get the annoyance part of the back-handed wave. Shock knew he did, and that his continued speech and query was just to get Shock's goat. Little did Mick know that Shock had not only sold the goat to a peddler for a golden bean, but gave up even eating feta cheese, as to not be even remotely affiliated with such a goat.

 "Yeah, I'll come up and get it." Eye contact was made. Shock was leaving the stool and giving a sidelong glance to his adversary, making sure he was not poised with a blade. Mick did not have a knife at the ready, but had a gleaming smile. The dastardly villain was showing pearly whites that had somehow looked to form chunks of crumbly cheese.

 Shock wanted to leave. His positive outlook was in grave danger at this point. He had no backup here in case something went terribly wrong. He looked to the barmaid. After looking her in the eye, he knew that Mick had already been here for hours working his charms on her. Thoughts raced through his head on how to stay positive and not let this beast ruin his perfectly good imperfect weekend.

 His first thoughts turned to Ms. Small and Mr. Big. They were a pair of friends that he had made at this very spot over a year ago. They knew what was currently going on in Shock's life, and be there to make sure he had a good time and a couch to sleep on after it was all said and done. Within seconds of scanning the billiard tables, Shock found them playing nine-ball on one of the ten-foot tables.

 "My pals!", our hero exclaimed as he ran up to the couple to give them a double hug. They seemed surprised at such a reception, but this was Shock that they were dealing with, and he's always doing something unexpected and fun.

 Forgetting about Malevolent Mick even being there, Shock had started having such a great time that he decided to enter some songs to sing for karaoke. He picked some manageable tunes at first. First the crowd-pleaser," Because I got High", a cautionary tale of how cannabis had ruined several facets of a young man's life. Shock could relate. His last job was so strenuous and dangerous that he swore off smoking in favor of the safety of all others around him. Still, he lost his job, but wanted to extol the dangers of such that he gave everything he had to the song.

 Pool games came and went. They were blurry in the mixture of the music, the beer,  and the laughter of Mr. Big and Ms. Small. They enjoyed the songs that Shock sang that night. "The Man Who Sold The World" was one of their favorites, and the crowd seemed to applaud a little louder once Shock exited the stage.

 Mr. Big, Ms. Small, and Shock wanted to get some fresh air and get a game plan going about what to do afterwards. Shock, although without a job, was offering dinner to the bunch. They would have none of it because they have a sense of thrift and frugality that Shock does not. He lives for the moment, while they live for the rest of their lives.

 Having been turned down on a bit of benevolence, Shockgrubz was still in great spirits when they entered the painted glass doors again. This time the barmaid was carrying around a bucket with tickets to a raffle. Shock knew of this raffle because he won the same contest a couple of months ago. He purchased two tickets for the midnight drawing.

 Singing continued to happen. There were a few drunks who could  not hold a tune, but they were well received, anyway. Shock had some Johnny Cash and Pearl Jam up his sleeve. He was giving it all he had on those songs. He really hates the way his voice sounds, but for some strange reason he likes the whistles and claps of the crowd even more.

 Before midnight hit, Shock had asked Ms. Small if he could user her super-slick pool cue if he won the raffle. She said yes. The ticket was about to be drawn, but Shock knew that the power of his positive thinking would allow this to be his win.

 The numbers were called. To keep up with appearances, Shock looked at his tickets when the numbers were called.

 "seven-nine-six-four-two-three", the bar owner called out from the mic. Shock was not surprised when the numbers matched, but everyone else was when he hooted.

 "Whooooo!", Shock exclaimed louder than he was planning.

 " Alright, you get a $25 gift certificate and a chance at $250 at a ten-ball rack on the ten foot table.", was the announcement, although he had done this before. He would get one shot at breaking the balls. If he made the one through nine, he would get twenty-five bucks per ball. But if he made the ten on the break, he'd get a nice hundred dollar bill. His previous win netted him just the certificate, having not pocketed any balls on the break. He blamed it on using an in-house pool cue. This time, though, he was going to use Ms. Small's super slick Cue-Tech.

 She handed it right over with offers of luck. Shocked thanked her and set the ball in his normal 'sweet-spot', which lies at the end of the second dot and parallel with the first dot on the opposite rail. A really drunk man came to stop him, saying "Dude, use the center of the table and give it some top english". Shock did not want to follow a drunkard's orders, but to placate the soused individual, he moved the ball to just right of center and aimed to give it right english.

 A smooth but powerful stroke saw the one and the ten ball both in corner pockets. He had made it! Hollers and congrats were coming in from every corner of the place. The drunkard who gave his 'tip' to Shock came up to him expecting payment. Shock laughed and stated that he had asked for top english when he had actually put right, therefore making his own shot. Drunkard got mad and sat over by Malevolent Mike.

 Shock couldn't see any trouble brewing, for he was on a cloud of his own numbering. He paid no mind to the belt-less thugs that made their way to the corner. He heeded no warning from the Drunkard, that he would get two 'jagerbombs' out of him. Shock just did what he was there to do. Stay positive and spend time with Mr. Big and Ms. Small. He was oblivious to what was about to happen.

 What seemed to him like a serene reflection in a still lake cracking into tiny pieces like a shattered mirror, a fracas made some sense jump back into Shock. Masses of people were crowding the areas near the bar and at the corner. The outspoken barmaid was kicking one of the belt-less thugs out. He was having none of that. He got his cronies together around him and started pushing on the barmaid. Well, barmaid's male counterpart threw a punch to the instigators' face. It all blew up from there.

 The first thought on Shock's mind was "Where are my friends?". He scanned the moving crowds for Mr. Big, being as he was the tallest one there that night. He found him in the middle of one of the cells of violence. Shock's heart plummeted when he saw that his friend was using the worst move possible in a fight. The 'push two guys apart with a hand on each while staying in the middle' move. That one usually always ends in the person in the middle getting knocked out cold because there's no guard up. Shock wanted to go help him, but this meant leaving all of the weaker and pacifistic individuals on the outside rings of the tempest. So, without a word, he grabbed up the best poolcue to use in such a situation, the bridge, and stood next to Ms. Small with a wild look in his eye.

 Nobody came their way. Mr. Big ended up being pretty effective at breaking things up, but he really wanted to break someone's head. I saw Malevolent Mick try and look like he wanted trouble. He would get close to the wrestling/fighting and posture up, but that look in his eye was worth more than winning the contest. Mick had fear in his eyes. Shock had to laugh.

 The thugs were kicked to the parking lot where they ended up fighting Drunkard and his tee-totalling wife. We got out of there once we saw that the thugs had made text messages for backup, and that backup was arriving.

 Shock got word that no one was injured once he had been ferried to the safety of Mr. Big and Ms. Small's abode. He knew of a non-physical injury that surpassed all punches thrown. His was a feeling of pride, having known to injure the ego of Malevolent Mick.

 Sometimes it pays to be positive!

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Randoom City Battles: Monticello- UT vs. AR

Disclaimer: I am not an expert at pitting populations against each other, but it is something I'd like to see. The spirit of competition can improve whole cities! The only other goal for this is to provide much needed entertainment for you, my wonderful readers. Now to it.

 Monticello- I always think of the place where Jefferson lived that's now a national landmark when I hear the name, or look at the 'tails' side of a nickel. But since this is my first installment of "Randoom City Battles", we're going with the cities of Monticello, Utah and Monticello,  Arkansas.


Monticello, AR- Population of  9,146
Monticello, UT-  Population of 1,958

 Sheer numbers say that AR wins this category, but looking deeper, the population density of both areas are a bit closer, with AR at 852 people per square mile and UT with their tribute to Boeing with 757.


 Mont.,(as I will be now abbreviating the city name) Utah was created in 1887 by the front-runners of the Mormon faith. Their Arkansan counterpart was born around 1851, through the benevolence of a land donation, giving them a little more time under their polite, southern belts.


 In the first half of the 20th century, Mont., UT was a great place for Uranium mining. You weren't somebody unless you had a little uranium in your pocket(I bet that pocket was glowing!). The demand for such a radioactive material had subsided by the 60's, and recent attempts at government cleanup have produced such gems as "The Hideout Club", an 18 hole golf course positioned close to a reclaimed mine site.

 Utah's Mont is fortunate to be the site of Canyonlands National Park and Newspaper rock. The Canyonlands are a series of seemingly-endless canyons eroded out of rock that people seemed to like to etch upon. Newspaper rock is  a series of petroglyphs, or carved 'drawings, upon stone. I call them "prehistoric blogs" because I'm sure that they were just saying then what we are still saying now. They even had a 'A Beer For The Shower' cartoon on one,  I swear I saw ABFTS on that stone! I know I wasn't tripping, there were no mushrooms around today. On average, 423,792 people flock to visit there every year, giving it some massive tourist muscle .

 Arkansas' Mont. doesn't have so much to say as far as natural formations, but it does have some eye-candy in the form of college co-eds. This city is the home of  University of Arkansas at Monticello. It provides the area with much needed higher education and vocational training. With just 2,942 students enrolled, it doesn't see as much traffic as UT's cashcows, but their mascot is the 'Boll Weevil", the boll-frickin'-weevil, as I like to call it. You can't get a more polarizing mascot anywhere.
A Boll-Frickin'-Weevil!

Both Mont., UT and Mont., AR, are county seats. Being the administrative center of their respective areas, they have resources available to them that other places of the same population do not. Arkansans have taken so much to having county seats, that they have 11 counties with more than one county seat.

AR also gets the edge with 8 notable citizens,  3 radio stations, and a newspaper. As of this publishing, there are none in UT.

So, now that we have a little knowlege of the places, we get to the fight!

 Fistfight- AR wins- UT seemed to be taking the punches well, but the supplement to the Bible that they used as shields started burning asunder when the spirit of Brigham Young was summoned into a frat house, and thus pummeled back to the afterlife.

 Technology race- AR wins again. UT tried what cavemen had figured out long ago. Blogs are only useful when read. Those in AR used actual computers to gain the influence of their peers as those in UT were scratching rocks for the tourists to laugh at.

 Zombie Apocolypse- UT wins this one with a big margin. The topography of the place is not conducive to the accuracy in which a zombie chases a human. Even with my latest pair of New Balance, the undead couldn't keep up with those living among the caverns and mountains. AR went down so fast because the second a zombie showed it's ugly corpse on campus, someone immediately went to give it a bro-hug, getting bit and spreading the infection faster than beer down a bong.

 Afterlife- In the afterlife, AR wins out. They had remembered the "Mountain Meadow Massacre" of September 11, 1859. After their deaths, Arkansans from Mont. take down all those responsible for the needless murder of their ancestors.

2nd Disclaimer: I used wikipedia for my quick bits of research. If you find something wrong, let's call it an error and chalk it up to me being so utterly human that I take pride in something wrong.

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Turned tables can be so fun!

So I lost my job and place to stay yesterday. Instead of bumming out and doing my fair share of bawling about how pitiful life is, I've decided to stay positive.

 And it worked. Just a half an hour ago, my friend told me of a tiny house he's going to rent out. It has 2 bedrooms and he would appreciate the rent help, although the price is also tiny.

 I'm thinking that this kind of set-up will be conducive with my career as an artist. I stopped by a printer in my neighborhood to talk prices. He could not give me any specific quotes, but I think he may want my business enough to give me an initial deal to get me as a loyal customer.

 If I can make a good profit hawking my printed designs, I will not need to deal with such foolishness as a j.o.b.(even if I did get the initial money from it).

 So I'll have even less time to blog and comment, but I am going to walk and spread some love when I can. Keep your chins up and if you lose your employment or home like me, at least you've got your life.

Sunday, January 22, 2012

Randoom Dog Training: Fixing The Face Licking and ACTA problems.

 I have a friend who has a pretty darn obedient dog. His pet minds human commands very well. But the obedience the wee thing displays only goes up to a point. The problem I have with "Dolly",  is that it likes to sneak those 'kisses', licking me when I do not wish it.

 If I ever saw a human clean their own bung by mouth, then try and give me a lip-lock, I'd go all Spartacus on them,(I love that show, and I'm doing some plugging of copyrighted material because this is also a combined post against ACTA,).

The establishments in power that wish to snuff out our freedoms by enabling ACTA, (Anti-Counterfeiting Trade Agreement). Those who wish to take away parts of our net, and hence our freedoms, are just like disobedient dogs to me. They crap where we don't want them to by sprinkling their feces upon our wondrous internet. The mutts of this collective piss on the shiny floors of the web that we tread upon. They eat their own dung,  needing no sustenance from us, the master. These mongrels speak in a similar language of barking too often and loud, making their message discernible only to their own. And to top it all off, to lessen awareness, these mangy animals lick upon our faces to appease us.

 ACTA is unlike SOPA and PIPA. SOPA and PIPA were mere toy poodles crapping in the corner of a tiny room, only confined the the U.S. of A. ACTA is a mastiff that looms larger than any other dog. This is not legislation created in the United States, but around THIRTY NINE countries that would be signing up for an international trade agreement that would be considered law if passed by the separate governing bodies.

 Each country seems to be acting as a different part of the dog's body. The U.S. and Canada have already signed on, giving the mission legs. The European Union is for this as well, providing a body to the terrorizing dog that is ACTA. The animal is not yet fleshed out, for the European Parliament has yet to give it's say, and therefore making it lack a tongue to lick with.

 With real dogs, so many people succumb to the face licking, although they'd be better off not having the body part was just moments ago rubbing along the canine's most private parts, slathering itself upon our lips, teeth, and tongue. Most owners that allow this kind of filthy misbehavior are allowing themselves to be blinded by an old wives tale that stated, "Dogs mouths are cleaner than a human's". They are not and never will be.

 I fashioned a cure to make sure those  flesh colored toilet papers that come from their canine maws into our human mouths. I will list the ingredients and instructions as a recipe below:

 1 fl oz Tobasco or equivalent hot sauce
 1 fl oz of Vinegar
 2 fl oz of sour spray (you can find this in your local convenience store on the candy isle)

 I. Mix the ingredients together in a tightly closed spray bottle by shaking vigorously.

 II. Spray along areas of your own face that you know the bad dog will lick you.

 III. Have dog lick you one last time.

 IV. Listen to dog whine in dog language that it never wants to taste that again.

 V. Enjoy your new non-face licking dog

 Now that's not too hard, is it? Oh wait, some of you will not wish to have your skin burn so much in the application of the offending fluids to your facial area. For those too weak to attempt this, (not me, for I even marinated my mustache and basted my beard in the tingly juices), I will tell you that a few layers of cheesecloth on the outside of clean layers around your mouth will provide the same taste to the disobedient dog.

 How can we apply this same cure to ACTA? By our European brethren and sisters shunning the good things that the European Parliament give them for a while. By disallowing all attempts of the parliament to butter up the public,(trying to be 'cute' with facial licking), they will get their undivided attention. Once asked why the EU public are not receptive to the so-called 'gifts' that they offer, the people can then site ACTA as the reason for their unhappiness. Then, maybe we can be free of that nastiest of trade agreements.

Anybody ask for a sheep Dragon? Modification with original by rootoftwo

Saturday, January 21, 2012

Obligatory 100th Follower Post

So my little Randoom Blog now has 100 followers! The lucky hundredth is none other than Bonafide Jones.

 I'd like to give you all my appreciation for checking me out and keeping with me although I went absent for a few months. You're the best!

 I used to write more on my other blog, Newstuff, but Randoom has taken precedence. It may switch back, but for now I'm all about some randoom and funny. The world is always going to be full of technology, but only I can bring you my wacky brand of randoomness for the limited time I'm here with you on earth.

 So now, I'll write an impromptu poem about two things I gathered from wikipedias random page button.

 Oh, Talagahadiwela, how I love you!

  Your countryside dotted with thousands of jujubes,
  Your waters clouded with gallium arsenide.

 I could wallow inside your silos of grosgrain fabric,
  tossing and turning within your ribbed ribbons.

Oh, Talagahadiwela, how I love you!
The magical 100th  follower lamp

Friday, January 20, 2012

My misadventure in girlcotting Malwart

Continuing from my last post, I had determined that I was going to 'girlcott' Malwart. Most of you call it Wal-Mart, but I must be unique in going against the grain.

 My temporary roommate said he was taking me out to eat. That was fine and dandy. I wolfed so much Asian cuisine down in such a small amount of time it must have looked like I was training for the munchie olympics. My fortune was something to the effect of "Bold moves allow for unseen power", whatever that must mean.

 Little did I know that our next stop was the dreaded Mal-Wart. I actually went inside, not realizing that to girlcott, I had stated that I would not pass through the gates. They have doors, not gates, so I get by on that one with a technicality.

 I was slowly following my roomie, detesting the thought of how many products I was passing that were made by someone suffering in very bad conditions in a country that couldn't care less about me or my family.

 "I'm feeling ill", I said to my roommate.

 "What's wrong with you?", he asked.

 "I'm coming down with Wal-Mart zombification. I fear the infection will spread soon."

 "You're crazy." was his reply.

 I wanted to take everyone in that store and shake their souls by giving them visions of what this company is really doing to America. I got so aware of the need to awaken the sheep who walked the isles that I told my friend that I was going to go bite some of them to get the infection to spread. I growled after I made that statement while making eye contact with a lost female soul on the make-up isle. She was scared. I just passed like it had never happenned.

 After that, I woke up to the realization that it is very difficult to girlcott a business from inside. So I went outside to silently protest the insidious company. I leaned back on the truck that dropped me off there, struck my best James Dean pose and tried to look as cool as one could in a parking lot of a huge store.

 My mind wandered from what was with all of the single ladies scouting for a new man to the 3 thug-looking youths that kept hitching their pants up. Why were the women using this place to find a mate? Were they all looking for a cheap date, or was it more of looking toward some semblance of familiar love? I have no clue, and had no interest in being the apple of their eyes. To the three thugs, I was thinking of how easy it would have been to best them in an impromtu game of depants and fisticuffs. I'm usually a nonviolent person, but to see those thugs and see how hardcore they thought they were, I wished to see someone take them out and watch their facades just fade away.

 I caught myself before I got too negative. To change the mood to a lighter one, I pressed out a bit of audible flatulence when a well dressed couple passed me. I heard a scoff and laughed so hard I did it again. Fart humour always beats out violence in my world.

 Not one person ended up joining me in my girlcott. I held no sign, chanted no mantra, and made no attempt to sway any of the sheep into cutting off Mal-Warts grip on their hard earned cash.

 In the future, I'll continue to girlcott places like Mal-Wart, but I may be hitting on the single ladies and punching out belt-less thugs in the parking lot.

Thursday, January 19, 2012

Why can't it be called 'Girlcott'?

Boycott just sounds too much like a Speed Racer bed that leaves my shins hanging out with my feet above the floor. Girlcott, however could be some sort of canopied four poster, an alluring hybrid fruit, or a way to silently and politely protest. Boys are rarely silent or polite. Girls are, so I'm now boycotting the word 'boycott' and now replacing it with 'girlcott'.

 I was thinking of girlcotting the entertainment industry the other day. I entertained grand daydreams of ad execs and major motion picture board members grovelling at my feet, begging me to shell out my hard earned cash to view their celluloid grade crack. I denied them with a slap to the face. Then I remembered that I hadn't actually paid to go see a movie since "the Xpendables",(I'd like my money back on that one.). So, I've already been girlcotting the industry by being a broke ass. It's great to actually have pride in something that comes from being utterly poor.

 I'll continue to girlcott the industry, although I do have a few coins in the pocket these days.

 What are you girlcotting?

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

I want to SOPA down PIPA

 It's been quite some time since getting a place that has internet. I finally procured some of the lifeblood of the web and it seems to be turning a color I can't describe. Why?

 Because congress is now discussing these ridiculous censorship laws, SOPA and PIPA.

 For a second, after I had initially heard about the laws, I  thought myself untouched. Here were my thoughts:

 "I don't download copyrighted movies, so I won't be affected."- that is so wrong. Everyone that surfs beyond e-mail in the U.S. would be affected.

 "Even if it passes, I could still do everything I could before" - Wrong again. This very blog could be blocked even though it currently includes nothing that would garner a block from the censors.

 "I can live with a censored internet" - I really can't. It'd be like living in an America with no gyms. I don't go to gyms, probably never will, but damn the powers that be if I didn't have that choice.

 The way I see it, if these bills pass we in the U.S. will be looking through a glass block window behind bars to see what everyone else does through a single pane.

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

If discretion is the better part of valor, valorousness, valiance........

Then there has to be a 'bad' part of valor, right? I don't yet know what that might be, but I may figure it out before I leave you today.

I like saying that word, "valor". Just sounds like a soul lightening term, valor.
 Not really knowing if it means the same as honor or heroism, I look it up on the Wordnet.

 The noun valor has 1 sense (first 1 from tagged texts)
1. (7) heroism, gallantry, valor, valour, valorousness,valiance,

 valiancy -- (the qualities of a hero or heroine; .exceptional or 

heroic courage when facing danger (especially in battle); "he 

showed great heroism in battle"; "he received a medal for valor")

 I had initially thought of "Honor" as being similar in "Valor" as a virtue. It seems that valor could include honor as well as other positive or strong attributes during a danger or fight. So many parts to comprise valor, I can see how a few might be seen lower in value than discretion.

 A form of 'discreet', this to me states prudence. An ability to keep one's mouth shut. To know when to hold information from whom and whom to give it to when the time is right.

 Let's see how close on the Wordnet.

 The noun discretion has 5 senses (first 2 from tagged texts)
1. (5) discretion -- (freedom to act or judge on one's own).

2. (2) discretion, discreetness, circumspection, prudence -- 

(knowing how to avoid embarrassment or distress; "the servants 

showed great tact and discretion")

3. delicacy, discretion -- (refined taste; tact)

4. free will, discretion -- (the power of making free choices 

unconstrained by external agencies)

5. discretion, discernment -- (the trait of judging wisely and 

objectively; "a man of discernment")

 So I'll use the second sense with the adjective 'discrete' for my purpose. 
 I adore 'circumspection'. It's stealthy. 'Prudence' has always gotten a bad rap. Prudes don't get asked to the dance, but teases sure are fine.

 What is not fine is that I haven't yet come up with the negative part of valor. I'm leaning toward being blunt to a fault. A person can be heroic in a battle and still speak their mind. Although the worse part of valor is being blunt, I believe in working better than discretion in certain situations that call for a quick wit and mass verbosity. -

Thursday, January 12, 2012

One inch punch to the ego

 From the far corners of the universe,

 to the inner expanses of our minds

 lies a thought that has existed for all time 

and only comes to fruition

when these 4 billion people

gather their energies

up on this world

causing us to head-bang in recognition

of the year that is


Tuesday, January 10, 2012

We're not scared of your tornado,

 We don't fear your flood.

 You can put us in volcanoes but,

 it wouldn't change this love.

 If we defeat natural disasters,

of this earth,

We can even tackle hunger,

 we're only what it's worth.

 We won't run from your tsunami,

 We won't dodge your quake.

They can pound us with their monsoons,

but our souls they cannot shake.

 When we defeat natural disasters,

of ourselves,

 we can even muffle violence

in 2012's ___________

That's some grin!