Turning Frowns upside down (and then rightside up)

I got the following email this morning from my Real Estate teacher.

I hope all of you felt great after finding out that you scored 100% on the exam. The testing center made an error when they gave you the immediate report for your exam scores. I was informed that the error will be corrected, and you will be able to view your final scores on the T/F and M/Choice portion tomorrow. It will take them a day to post the new/correct information.

I hope you all enjoyed your "day in the sun." And the testing center is "really sorry."

There was about 5 seconds after taking that exam when i was looking up at the scoreboard and thinking to myself, "Hey, I'm pretty smart, you know I studied and everything and all my work has paid off. Yay for ME!". And then Uncle Reason paid a visit to my brain and reminded me of how I've NEVER gotten a 100 on a BYU testing center exam, and for that to happen today on one of my most difficult classes I've had to date was unlikely at best, nigh impossible.

But it was a good five seconds, all the same.

2009: Year of the Prank

Tuscon Arizona Comcast Customers got more then they bargained for when after the last touchdown by the Arizona Cardinals, their signal was switched to some rather lewd pornographic imagery, more than likely based on the narration of of Ed Norton from Fight Club.



Then today, this appeared on highway road signs.

Click Picture For Link

I have a theory that an underground prank movement like that of Project Mayhem from Fight Club is forming Nationwide; and i want in.

Thankfulness

It dawned on me as I sat at a dirty booth at my neighborhood Beto's this brisk November morning, that I have quite a lot to be thankful for this holiday season. And most of them are related, ironically enough, to that very special proprietorship I was visiting, known the region-over as Beto's.
Their breakfast burritos put all others to shame, inasmuch that I declare that we no longer classify them burritos, but jurritos instead - thus retaining their distinction of tortilla rolled amazement of human ingenuity, but also acknowledging that they are in fact massive, dare I say, Jumbo in proportion to their smaller, more feeble cousins that plague convenience stores and other such eateries. But the marvelous work and wonder does not end there my friends; oh no. It lives on in their beverages, their condiments, and their service. Today I discovered their latest contribution to an awe inspired world. Guacamole. Your perplexity will be short lived, I assure you ~ allow me to explain. As a percentage of you know, their is a little place (built on drug trafficking monies) call Mamacita's in central Texas. Now at Mamacitias, they serve a very special chip dip that most pass of as mere "green sauce" when in actuality it is Tomatillo salsa. Nowhere else have I tasted that subtle yet superfluously bold taste of sweet mild goodness. UNTIL today where I specifically asked if tomatillos were used to enhance the already glorious guacamole. You can imagine how happy I was when told that my suspicions where in fact DEAD ON!
Yes friends, Thanksgiving is a time to remember the most important things in life, perhaps more so in this time of turmoil and uncertainty. But no matter what the future may hold for each of us, we can take comfort in knowing that out there in this big blue world are copious mounds of delicious mexican-style jurritos available day or night, 24/7, come hell or high water, just waiting for someone to love them. May we all live to be such a jurrito loving people is my prayer; Amen.

P.S.
Also, guns. I'm thankful for guns.

Insomniatic Device

Should any of you nice folk have a solution as to "what to do at 3am when you can't sleep but have to get up in 4.5 hours", please post it in the comment box below.

Answers not acceptable include, but are not limited to the following;
1. Try and wake up before 2pm on Saturdays
2. Save caffeine beverages for midday not midnight
3. Playstations are fun, just not all-night-prudent fun

Test Day for Grayson

Hilarious.

The Wussification of American Children

About an hour ago a friend of mine introduced me to one of my brand new favorite-est websites

THE ART OF MANLINESS

The shear volume of information and direct nature of the text really outshines any alleged Man's Magazine that you would see at the local grocery store. Plus, it has a vintage feel of 19th century art and imagery - which goes against the grain of the post-modern GQ womanizer image that is thrust upon us today. Anywho, one of the articles under Relationships and Family was titled (and subsequently linked)

Quit Coddling Your Kids

It's a quick 5 minute read with a very interesting 9 minute video attachment that discusses how parenting has altered since the time of the baby boomers right up to Gen X parents. The synopsis was that as parents spent less time with their children, their personal needs for acceptance and validation as a loving parent drove them to behave as the child's friend more so than a traditional role of mother or father. As Gen X babies grew up with more and more lax environments they too subsequently portrayed even more exacerbated behavior.

"Generation X parents are even worse about coddling their kids. To many many Gen X parents, children are just an accessory you get to dress up with ironic t-shirts and fauxhawks."

Most of my blogs have been more theoretical, even borderline rhetorical, not allowing for a lot of direct dialogue and interaction with the audience (that's you, btw). And seeing that both you Aubry and Susan & Justin and Jessica both have lovely young daughters of your own. I wanted to see what your reaction was to the article and video above.
How willing and able do you think you could be at allowing your children to engage in potentially dangerous situations without supervision?
As this trend of hyper-protectivity (not a real word) continues and your children's peers are winy little brats who always get what they want and are rewarded for mediocrity, what will you do to educated them on how they will be held to higher standards, etc?
I'm sure you've thought of these things; maybe even tried to put them in the back of your mind and just enjoy the first "simple" years without all this hoopla and sociocultural issues.
But even the first years have such impressionable periods and lessons to be learned in regards to the child's relationship to others, risk v. reward, work ethic, and even vital developmental skills that can't be achieved from a glass bubble or a Dora the Explorer interactive DVD set (i don't even know if such a thing exists yet, but it will).

At any rate, they're your kids; so the bachelors philosophy may not carry as much weight as he would like, but I thought it would be fun food-4-thought.

On a side note, Albertson's was having a sale on Pomegranate Blueberry Juice (next to the simply orange and other beverages) and it is exquisitely yummy.

Hormel v. PETA

Now, i consider myself an animal lover just as much as the next guy (preferably medium rare and well seasoned), but beyond the realm of satirical humor the following is as far from funny as can be. A recent investigation by PETA revels very disturbing and downright perverse actions on the part of pig farm workers that are suppliers for Hormel, the biggest name in pork since Wilber. Now, everyone knows that a slaughterhouse is no picnic for the main ingredient in that #4 combo you bought at the drive-thru window recently, but if you don't wanna lose your stomach (as I almost did) I encourage you NOT to click the below link. These are some sadistic and vile people and I hope the entire industry gets a look at and violators of such actions are held accountable.
Now, I doubt Hormel has adequate knowledge about these actions, and if this video gains enough press - they'll disavow all involvement, cancel the supplier, and make some donation to save face.

PETA PIG FARM VIDEO - viewer discretion is advised

The 7 a.m. Blues

The night was sultry. A vulnerable Grayson has just been possessed by a demonic force that forces him to log into BYU and sign up for classes far too early for any normal Adams to endure. With a swift click of the mouse his victim's fate is sealed. Now for 4 months the wretched youth shall be bound the bugling call of the angel of death, a small alarm clock, with beady red numbers and the cry of a banshee descended from the line of the eternally annoying Fran Drescher.
Woe to this student of sorrow!!!!!!

Yes, it helps me find a parking space before all the other clones have even had a chance at stumbling out their front doors, but getting to school at 6:45?!?! Jeez louise; it's murder, I tell ya.

My Secret? Clear and Clear Morning Burst Face "Stuff".

Perks you right up, well - sort of.

Step 1: Manage to get in shower without opening eyes
Step 2: Grope around for the right bottle of "stuff"
Step 3: Lather Face and inhale like you're Rick James at an 80s coke party
Step 4: Stand under cascading steaming water until motor skills become fully functional (approximately 15min)

The Hyperbolic Eclair of Death & Other Tales

The weekend of Aug 1-2 began with great perilous peril and ended in a near diabetic coma.
These are the facts.
For some time now I've been itching to test out my new gear and see the wilds of Washington. Well after some half@ss planning, alleged miscommunications, strategic coaxing, and bad weather to boot, we (Myself, Todd R., Nathan R. (brother of Todd R.)) finally loaded up the truck with the kayaks and gear and shipped out NW towards our destination 1.5 hours behind schedule.
The "plan" was to take the 3 kayaks up from Longbranch 2 nautical miles before low tide through Pit Passage towards a little place called Pit Island (imaginative, I know) and stay the night after playing three man capture the flag with glow sticks as flags (ingenious, by the way).
Preliminary satellite reconnaissance provided by Google surveillance confirmed previously established intel from multiple sources that the island was A) uninhabited and 2); yes, "two", adequately secluded.
Fun Sentence, BTW ~ go me.
We would be able to launch from a harbor and ride the tide out hugging the coast of McNeil Island. It would go swimmingly perfect. Or so we thought. DUHN DUHN DUUUUUUHN!!!!!
After stopping for a pizza (remember the coaxing bit?) we grabbed the last bit of gear we needed from another Rawlings sibling that lives up the way and were in the water with the sun already ducking its radioactive head behind the horizon. After a quick lie to the dockmaster about us going to somewhere that is legal to kayak we were off. The water was mildly choppy and brisk and the going was relatively easy.
Then, as dark began to fall we noticed that not 300 yards from pit island were people launching fireworks on the other shore (See Map 2, Point A). Thus, in the true manner of white man deception we proceeded to kayak beyond Pit island on the eastside using the island to block the view of those on shore. (Y) As we landed on on the rocky shores of the far side we noticed what seemed to be rather new signs measuring 8'x4' "PROPERTY OF McNEIL ISLAND, MAINTAIN CLEARANCE OF 100 YARDS"
Turns out McNeil houses a medium security prison less than 2 miles from where we were.... Awesome.
So now we've surveyed the eastside of the island and because of cliffs (10-20') we cant get to the ideal camping site without approaching from the westside of the island. Back in the boats. Using bird calls, hand signals and telepathy we ninja stealth paddled around the backside of Pit Island under a clouded night sky. (From Y -> Z) At which point a 50 billion halogen flood light went on at another residence close by where the fireworks were going off. (B) Now, having been in this situation before, I was keen on the fact that when lights seem to be "right on you" in fact those standing near the light source have limited visibility beyond a certain range depending on the focus of the beam.
Note to Aubry: A certain set of truck headlights at a certain ranch on a certain moonless night come to mind, if I remember correctly. "Oh Sh*t, Oh Sh*t, we're gonna die!"
With Kayaks carried and stowed away behind another "Get the Hell of this Island" big ole sign (Z) we proceed to take the essentials to the predetermined campsite to set up. (X) Unfortunately we had already decided, given the circumstances, that a fire would not be advisable.
Now, I don't know what is was, but for some reason, this island and the situation was as scary as all get out.

Oh wait, I do remember. BONES.
BONES, EFFING, EVERYWHERE, AND NO WILDLIFE, RIGHT WHERE WE'RE SETTING UP CAMP.

Nathan: What's that right there?
Todd: Looks like a rib to me.
Grayson: Yeah but not a human rib, it's too small (the rational scientific analytical answerer)
Todd (holding the rib up to his chest cavity where it fits perfectly: Sure about that?

Then every freaky sound imaginable happens, Blair Witch Project style. Stuff falling out of trees, rockslides coming from McNeil Island, (C) Blood-curdling screams of "Help me, Help me! Oh sweet mercy, he's got a chainsaw and a hockey mask!" The whole nine yards.

Twenty Minutes later there is over 600lbs of Man in my lightweight backpacking tent that was clearly designed for 1.5 real people, 2 Asians, or 4 oompa-loompas, but not 3 grown heterosexual men. Bad night all around, I'd have to say; complete with nightmares and snoring to boot. And considering that I had a full Ziploc back of trail mix right outside the tent door I was a bit concerned about ravenous aquatic bears. I've never regretted not bring my gun with me more than then. Oh, and patrol boats were all over the place too. And the glowsticks didn't glow.

I hate you, Lowes Hardware.

Click adjacent map for full details.

Stuff happened Saturday morning, but is of little consequence until we come to the meaning of the title of this blog.
You see, there's this little restaurant called the Claim Jumper , originally out of Californi-way. And they have AMAZING foods (including a burger called "The Widowmaker") and house honey mustard sauce. We went there, and we gorged ourselves. Then however, against all logical data about how much the human stomach and digestive system can hold, we ordered this mammoth dessert called the I Declair. Ice Cream based, homemade eclair atop with whipped cream and fudge bundled around and over everything. Enough said? It was the bestworst thing I've ever done with food to this day. Went to bed at 5pm, woke up at noon the next day.

Kinda like how I feel right now. So if you were looking for a conclusionary summary. and closure? Bite me.

I Buy with My Little Eye...

I don't remember exactly what triggered me, but I came to the decision that my life should be spend more outdoors than it currently is (lived). And where better to get campy than in the evergreen state - amirite? So a quick trip to REI and a few hundred bucks later I'm prepped and ready for any number of solo expositions into the unknown. So much for living with a budget, right? Yeah, my self control is total weaksauce. But look at all this awesome swag!

Katadyn Viro Microfilter: capable of filtering over 500 gallons at variable speeds depending on the purity of the source, AND can be attached directly to a bottle or camelbak intake valve. Awesome.



Second. when you're cold and in the wilds, it all boils down to core temperature and layering. Answer - Vests. The fact that this one also destroys windshear and looks sweet is a bonus, as well.


Lastly, (and this has been a needed addition for many a year) is a the Lost Ranger +15F Sleeping "System" from Big Agnes. 600 fill goose down with built-in sleeve for air mattress ensures that you'll never slippy slide off in the middle of the night finding yourself atop a jagged rock in your kidney. At under 3 pounds is perfect for backpacking and versatile enough for camping in warmer to moderate climates. And what I didn't fully realize before, is that REI is mega-anal about customer satisfaction inasmuch that if you're not 100% AT ANY TIME return the item for refund or exchange. No questions asked AND at the end of the year 10% of purchases are returned to the customer as a dividend. Frickin A, man.
So now all we need is a good sunny weekend, a destination, and a map. I probably won't be summiting Mount. St. Helens anytime soon, but hey. You never know - there is a Mt. Adams just a hop skip and jump east of there. Maybe it would be a good psychological and metaphorical achievement.