In order to put this next short story in context I'm going to have to jump back to recall an event that occurred about two weeks ago. It was late on a Thursday night and I'd just arrived home after I had already promised earlier in the evening I would help Chuck McGovern with one of his many unnecessary automotive errands. To those who aren't already aware, I've labeled Mr. McGovern with the term 'automotive hypochondriac.' In other words, if anything at all goes wrong or even looks like it might go wrong with any of his vehicles (he has 6), he insists on taking it to his mechanic. If that habit weren't annoying enough on its own the only mechanic he will take any of his cars to is around a half hour away. Needless to say this was hardly the first trip we had made to drop off one of his cars late at night for no apparent reason. However I had already agreed and I was still in a good mood from hanging out at a friends earlier so I didn't mind for once. I pulled out of my street with him behind me and off we were for a pleasant night drive, or so I thought. Traffic on the way to the highway was pretty much non-existent since it was past 11:00 pm so we quickly made our way to the entry ramp. This is where things began to take a turn for the worse... I pulled on the highway still ahead of him and merged into the right lane of traffic. There was a large truck blocking the left lane so I had to wait until I could merge into the supposed 'fast' lane. Predictably the person in front of me is going 10 miles an hour under the speed limit so I continued to follow him waiting for my chance to change lanes. Just as the other lane finally cleared my dad and a few of the other drivers all stuck behind me and the slow driver in front of me, merge over to the left lane and began to accelerate past him. So I followed suit and merged into the left lane in order to do the same. Just as the new driver in front of me cleared the slow moving car now to my right he decides to slow down for some reason. As he was still in the fast lane at this point I am now stuck behind a 2 car blockade. Although slightly annoyed this was nothing I didn't experience every time I ventured out into Charlotte area traffic, so no big deal. Of course as I glanced back to my right I see my dad and the car previously obstructing my path fly past me on the right lane. Once again I follow suit and finally manage to navigate around the two retarded moving obstacles. No sooner would I finally manage to attain a decent high speed than to have my progress thwarted by yet another two car blockade up ahead. The driver in the right lane appeared to be going slightly faster so I jumped in line behind him, hoping to pass this second set of oblivious morons. Predictably the car I pulled behind slowed down and once again I see my dad pass me, this time to my left. Assuming he had planned on speeding up as well I changed lanes for the umpteenth time and pulled behind him. It was at this point he decided to slow down. Once again there I was stuck behind yet another blockade and now my temper is beginning to flare since I'm positive my dad is blocking me for one of two reasons. Those reasons being to either intentionally annoy me or because he is trying to enforce some kind of dumbass driving lesson and 'forcing' me to slow down. I rode behind them both for approximately the next 5 miles. By this point I was completely overcome by my temper and almost seething with rage, knowing my dad was intentionally trying to bother me when I was doing him a favor. A retarded meaningless favor nonetheless. For whatever reason the car to my right had finally started to actually exceed the speed limit by this point so I attempted to follow him to circumvent my dads retarded attempt to do whatever the fuck it was he was attempting to do. At this point he starts swerving slowly back and forth between his lane and partially into my lane recklessly, perhaps to make sure I won't feel safe navigating around him. I was so mad at this point I considered just turning around and going home, especially since my dad's driving behaviour was so outrageous. Mr rage however, knows no rationality and I was now determined to get around my dad. I pulled up to the back of my dads car as close as I could to let him know he needed to get the fuck out of my way. Apparently the message wasn't received as he did not budge. Just then I saw an opening as the car in the right lane was roughly two car lengths ahead of him. Immediately I gunned it and the turbo gauge the Volvo I was driving, or as I refer to it: the turbometer, shot up all the way. It was at this point I saw the fucking retard was slowing down once again for no apparent reason so my window was closing quickly. I decided to commit to my move and I put the pedal to the floor as I squeezed in between he and my dad. As I looked in the rear view mirror I could see my dad was not pleased with this stunt, not that I gave a shit - at all. I finally sped off way ahead to my destined exit only to just miss the green light and get caught first in line at a long red light waiting to turn left. A minute or two later my dad finally catches up and pulls up behind the car in the other left turn lane, a Chrysler 300. The light finally switches and I immediately put the pedal to the floor off the light in an attempt to make sure I wasn't caught behind anyone once the both lanes merged to a single lane up ahead. Of course as soon as I do so the next light up ahead turned red and I had to quickly slam on the brakes. No sooner did I finishing making a complete stop when the Chrysler 300 followed by my dad both blatantly ran the red light in stereo ensuring they'd both remain in front of me for the entire rest of the trip down this single lane road. My blood was boiling. Not only was my dads dumbass plan to either annoy me or attempt to curb my speeding working, but random fucking idiots in traffic were cooperating with him to seemingly team up against me. I followed them both til the next red-light where we all were turning left. The second the light turned green I laid on the horn before either of them could have possibly reacted and held on it for the next 10 seconds or so. The Chrysler 300 finally started speeding up perhaps getting the hint that I was in no mood to be trifled with but regardless I still remained trapped behind Chuck McGovern. Approximately a mile later we finally reached our destination. As I saw my dad park his car I heard him slam the doors and although I was still overwhelmed with rage I was pleased my attempt at annoying him by laying on the horn at him worked as intended. He then took his belongings out of his BMW and put them in the back seat of the Volvo I was driving, once again slamming the door and walked over to the drop box and put in his keys. Then out of the mirror I notice him walk up all the way around to the drivers side of the car. So I patiently waited for him to approach my window. The moment he did I rolled down my window and intentionally clicked my elbow down on the door lock, locking all of the doors in front of him blatantly. "Get out, I'm driving" he said. "No you aren't," I replied. "You're riding home with me, or you're not riding home at all," I said in the angriest tone I possibly could. This clearly annoyed him even more and he replied "Fine then I'll call the police and report the car stolen!" Thinking he had called my bluff. Too bad The Man plays for keeps.. "Okay, bye," I replied. Then rolled up the window and sped off home to go get a slushy. Leaving him stranded without a car in the middle of the night a half hour away in Mooresville. Like a bitch...
As previously stated these events occurred roughly 2 weeks prior to the events to come. Chuck McGovern and I still hadn't exchanged words since the automotive incident and I knew he was still mad. Completely understandable as I would be too if I had embarrassed myself and gotten completely told. I was in my bathroom and I had just taken a monster gravity bong hit and I was feeling pretty damn good... and really damn high. I exited my bathroom and plopped down on my computer chair and began enjoying the slushy waiting for me as I was listening to music on my computer. No sooner did I take my first slurp 'til my dad walked up behind me and startled me with "you lost your license," dropping the letter and enclosed document on my desk and then walking off. Completely high and disoriented I glance over the document... the state of North Carolina has suspended my license indefinately. I had just been served up with yet another unneeded... Reality Check.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Road Retards
Once again another generally uneventful Summer has passed me by and fall has arrived. Whilst seasonal changes are generally irrelevant given that my basement habitat stays the same year-round this fall brings changes for me as well. Once again I have enrolled in classes at the local and reigning #1 community college in the nation, none other than Central Peidmont Community College; the crème de la crème of community colleges. Unfortunately, my path toward a supposed higher education also brings me on much more treacherous paths on a daily basis as well... the mean streets of Charlotte. Now you'd think with all the NASCAR related businesses and headquarters in Charlotte that perhaps it's citizens would embrace what it means to be a great driver and learn the rules of the road. Unfortunately, this could not be further from the truth. My daily commute to and from class has only brought me mental anguish as I attempt to navigate through the sea of retards that composes typical Charlotte traffic. Luckily I've equipped myself with the latest and most greatest automotive technology to do so: my 1991 Toyota Tercel - from hell. Devoid of any nonsensical features like power steering, power brakes, interior lighting or a working gas guage this is truly a vehicle for an automotive savant like myself.
Yesterday afternoon I had finished class for the day and I was making my way home as usual. I had driven about 10 miles when I heard and felt something off with the engine. I glanced at the tripometer and noticed it was within the 40 mile window where it had between a quarter of a tank and totally empty. Out of habit I glanced at my gas guage and of course it was way below empty - which tells me almost nothing since it looks the same once it has under a quarter of a tank in it regardless. So I decided to pursue the same plan of action I normally do everytime I find something wrong with my car. Ignore it. So I kept driving and a few miles later the sound and vibration returned. It was at this point I realized I was running out of gas imminently, so I pulled over to the Sunset Road exit lane coasted up the exit ramp. The entire time I was doing so I was swerving my car back and forth left to right to make sure my car would pick up any remaining fuel that might be sloshing around inside. I finally made it to the stoplight at the end of the ramp right as the Tercel died. No big deal. I put it in neutral swerved to the right and started it back up, coasting into a gas station about a quarter mile away. No harm done - I hope. So I fill up and pull out to the stoplight adjacent to the gas station to benefit from the green arrow while not having to worry about pulling out in front of 2 lanes of traffic. I soon realized that this lane could only go right for some retarded reason when I needed to go left so I drove along the road until I saw a place to potentially pull into and turn around. It was at this moment I noticed a guy in a chromed out Escalade on the other side of the street eyeing me. Or perhaps it was the McDonalds I just passed about a quarter mile ago on the right. Regardless I merged into the center lane between the yellow lines to pull in only to have him do the exact same thing about 20 yards away. "What a fucking idiot," I'm thinking... but my left turn was approaching so I kept driving forward. Unfortunately so does he until we are both stopped about 20 feet apart, staring each other down. Now if this scenario had played out on my way to class, I'd probably be irate and probably screaming at him already. However, since it was on the way home and I had nowhere to go and nothing to do for the remainder of the day, I embraced this staredown like I would any other. I never back down. About 5 seconds pass by and neither of us makes a single movement. It's at this point that I move my left hand from it's resting place atop my steering wheel, click the seat-recline lever on the left side of my drivers seat and slowly but meaningfully, recline and relax in the seat while subtly adjusting my black aviator sunglasses and giving him a little smirk. Slick. At this point it looked like I had him questioning whether or not I was actually ever going to move and I see him begin to talk with the girl in the passenger seat. Approximately 15 more seconds pass by without either of us budging and inch until I see him shake his head in frustration and begin to pull back onto the side of the road where he came from. As he began to pull beside me I saw his window rolling down as if he was going to say something to me. Luckily I always drive with my windows down so before he even had the chance to get his window all the way down I screamed out "learn how to fucking drive you god damn retard," and drove by him making my left turn. Out of my rear view mirror I saw his breaklights on and he was still sitting in the same place I had just insulted him; perhaps debating what he could do about it. A few seconds later he apparently realized the answer was nothing, as I saw him give up and pull into the McDonalds drive through. I'm lovin' it.
Almost Hit and Rant
It was later this same day in the evening when I was sitting bored in my basement bored, looking for something to do. It was a nice night out so I decided to go for a walk. It was a walk like any other until something odd happened at the end. As I was returning home and walking along the street in front of my house I saw some car pulling up behind me; nothing unusual so I kept walking listening to music. Then I see the lights get bright and slow down almost right behind me. I figured it had to have been my dad pulling up next to me to give me a ride down the driveway. So I turn to my left and this random car I didnt recognize was seriously inches from my leg. "Woah!" I screamed then locked eyes with the guy in the car who had to have been just as suprised if not even moreso to see me. "I ALMOST HIT YOU! I ALMOST HIT YOU! I ALMOST HIT YOU!" He screamed out to me. "How reassuring," I responded; although he still looked too alarmed to comprehend this or anything else I could've said. Then I see him begin to turn into the driveway right accross the street from mine. If only he had heard my snyde comment yet another one of my stupidass neighbors would've been given a much needed... Reality Check.
Yesterday afternoon I had finished class for the day and I was making my way home as usual. I had driven about 10 miles when I heard and felt something off with the engine. I glanced at the tripometer and noticed it was within the 40 mile window where it had between a quarter of a tank and totally empty. Out of habit I glanced at my gas guage and of course it was way below empty - which tells me almost nothing since it looks the same once it has under a quarter of a tank in it regardless. So I decided to pursue the same plan of action I normally do everytime I find something wrong with my car. Ignore it. So I kept driving and a few miles later the sound and vibration returned. It was at this point I realized I was running out of gas imminently, so I pulled over to the Sunset Road exit lane coasted up the exit ramp. The entire time I was doing so I was swerving my car back and forth left to right to make sure my car would pick up any remaining fuel that might be sloshing around inside. I finally made it to the stoplight at the end of the ramp right as the Tercel died. No big deal. I put it in neutral swerved to the right and started it back up, coasting into a gas station about a quarter mile away. No harm done - I hope. So I fill up and pull out to the stoplight adjacent to the gas station to benefit from the green arrow while not having to worry about pulling out in front of 2 lanes of traffic. I soon realized that this lane could only go right for some retarded reason when I needed to go left so I drove along the road until I saw a place to potentially pull into and turn around. It was at this moment I noticed a guy in a chromed out Escalade on the other side of the street eyeing me. Or perhaps it was the McDonalds I just passed about a quarter mile ago on the right. Regardless I merged into the center lane between the yellow lines to pull in only to have him do the exact same thing about 20 yards away. "What a fucking idiot," I'm thinking... but my left turn was approaching so I kept driving forward. Unfortunately so does he until we are both stopped about 20 feet apart, staring each other down. Now if this scenario had played out on my way to class, I'd probably be irate and probably screaming at him already. However, since it was on the way home and I had nowhere to go and nothing to do for the remainder of the day, I embraced this staredown like I would any other. I never back down. About 5 seconds pass by and neither of us makes a single movement. It's at this point that I move my left hand from it's resting place atop my steering wheel, click the seat-recline lever on the left side of my drivers seat and slowly but meaningfully, recline and relax in the seat while subtly adjusting my black aviator sunglasses and giving him a little smirk. Slick. At this point it looked like I had him questioning whether or not I was actually ever going to move and I see him begin to talk with the girl in the passenger seat. Approximately 15 more seconds pass by without either of us budging and inch until I see him shake his head in frustration and begin to pull back onto the side of the road where he came from. As he began to pull beside me I saw his window rolling down as if he was going to say something to me. Luckily I always drive with my windows down so before he even had the chance to get his window all the way down I screamed out "learn how to fucking drive you god damn retard," and drove by him making my left turn. Out of my rear view mirror I saw his breaklights on and he was still sitting in the same place I had just insulted him; perhaps debating what he could do about it. A few seconds later he apparently realized the answer was nothing, as I saw him give up and pull into the McDonalds drive through. I'm lovin' it.
Almost Hit and Rant
It was later this same day in the evening when I was sitting bored in my basement bored, looking for something to do. It was a nice night out so I decided to go for a walk. It was a walk like any other until something odd happened at the end. As I was returning home and walking along the street in front of my house I saw some car pulling up behind me; nothing unusual so I kept walking listening to music. Then I see the lights get bright and slow down almost right behind me. I figured it had to have been my dad pulling up next to me to give me a ride down the driveway. So I turn to my left and this random car I didnt recognize was seriously inches from my leg. "Woah!" I screamed then locked eyes with the guy in the car who had to have been just as suprised if not even moreso to see me. "I ALMOST HIT YOU! I ALMOST HIT YOU! I ALMOST HIT YOU!" He screamed out to me. "How reassuring," I responded; although he still looked too alarmed to comprehend this or anything else I could've said. Then I see him begin to turn into the driveway right accross the street from mine. If only he had heard my snyde comment yet another one of my stupidass neighbors would've been given a much needed... Reality Check.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Lost Reality Check #1 - Good Cop, Dumb Cop.
I've decided to finally start posting some of my 'lost' Reality Check blogs-drafts finally after the unrelenting pressure of my massive reader base. Let me clarify that lost has nothing to do with the awesome (but extremely frustrating) television show, Lost. It simply means that these are old/outdated Reality Check posts which I had originally written some time ago but forgotten to publish. This is usually due to the fact that I essentially only blog when I'm wasted because its more fun and then save the post but forget to publish it moreoften than not.
Good Cop, Dumb Cop
This one happened slightly over two months ago, right around/after Christmas. I was over at the Douglas residence, playing one of my favorite games: You Honk, We Drink. Incase the name didn't suffice as a description it basically entails a bunch of people sitting in a yard near the road with a huge cardboard sign that reads 'U HONK WE DRINK' on it. It's a great game because not only do we get to drink and subsequently get enjoyment and drunk of course from it but lots of drivers have a fun time with it too. Unfortunately some of the neighbors accross the street don't share this sentiment; And continually call the police whenever we are trying to enjoy ourselves playing this game. We'd been playing for probably an hour-and-a-half to almost two hours when two police cars rolled up and parked in front of us, and the sign. Clearly the Huntersville PD has lots of important things to do when two cars show up for some young guys with a fucking sign in their yard. I was already slightly drunk and more than slightly pissed off at this point. So the officers, a woman and a man, get out of their cars and Jarred, whose mother owns the land, asks them what the problem is. The female officer is being cordial and polite about the entire affair and tries to explain the problem to us, that everytime someone complains theyre obligated to respond. Jarred informs her that we're, obviously, doing nothing wrong; And that if we take the sign down people will still honk anyhow. Then the male officer chimes in. "You're drinking in public. This is public intoxication." I'd had enough at this point so I immediately chimed in "how is this public intoxication? He owns this property and this sign is also on his property?" As this officer was clearly an idiot he would continue to try and rationalize his clearly dumb and wrong statement. "How exactly could this be construed as public intoxication?" I asked him once again. He clearly didn't have an actual answer so he pulled out his handcuffs and asked 'is someone tryin' to get arrested today?' Jarred who was talking to the female officer quickly chimed in and said no. I of course, was still perturbed and was wondering what exactly we had done wrong. So I again asked the officer "how is this public drunkeness? We're on private property?" He responded "Anytime anyone can see you drinking at all, it's public drunkeness." This statement was clearly 100% bullshit which only made me want to retaliate further. "No it's not..." I responded. "Are you telling me if I'm sitting in my house with all the windows open and someone happens to see me from the street then that's public intoxication?" Of course I asked him this with the expectation he'd finally give in and say no because he had already made a fool out of himself. Then he said "yes." So then I asked "so essentially, unless you're in a room with closed doors and no windows you can be arrested for public intoxication?" Then he asks me what I do for a living. I inform him that I'm a student. He then starts bobbing his head like a fucking moron, somehow pleased at my reply for some, I'm sure, retarded illogical reason. "What's your major?" he asks. At this point I freeze up for about a second. I don't want to say psychology because it'll just play into the exact traditional blue-collar interpretation of anything to do with the science, not that there is anything wrong with blue collar jobs. "So what are you majoring in?" he asked me again. "Street fighting." I said. And stared at him comletely straight faced, while everyone around me laughed. He immediately reached for his handcuffs and commented "well you're about to get a test in that today." When Jarred interjected and said "psychology." And then he just smiled and did his retarded ass overconfident head bob-thing again. "I knew it had to be psychology or law," he claimed. Yeah. I'm sure... Anyhow we finally took the sign down but the best part was yet to come. Both cops got back in there cars (while people were still honking at us, and we were still drinking) and then while the female cop was driving off she layed on the horn the entire time she was pulling away, while the male cop just drove off silently like a fucking prick, who was clearly mad. Yet another cop getting a...
Reality Check.
Good Cop, Dumb Cop
This one happened slightly over two months ago, right around/after Christmas. I was over at the Douglas residence, playing one of my favorite games: You Honk, We Drink. Incase the name didn't suffice as a description it basically entails a bunch of people sitting in a yard near the road with a huge cardboard sign that reads 'U HONK WE DRINK' on it. It's a great game because not only do we get to drink and subsequently get enjoyment and drunk of course from it but lots of drivers have a fun time with it too. Unfortunately some of the neighbors accross the street don't share this sentiment; And continually call the police whenever we are trying to enjoy ourselves playing this game. We'd been playing for probably an hour-and-a-half to almost two hours when two police cars rolled up and parked in front of us, and the sign. Clearly the Huntersville PD has lots of important things to do when two cars show up for some young guys with a fucking sign in their yard. I was already slightly drunk and more than slightly pissed off at this point. So the officers, a woman and a man, get out of their cars and Jarred, whose mother owns the land, asks them what the problem is. The female officer is being cordial and polite about the entire affair and tries to explain the problem to us, that everytime someone complains theyre obligated to respond. Jarred informs her that we're, obviously, doing nothing wrong; And that if we take the sign down people will still honk anyhow. Then the male officer chimes in. "You're drinking in public. This is public intoxication." I'd had enough at this point so I immediately chimed in "how is this public intoxication? He owns this property and this sign is also on his property?" As this officer was clearly an idiot he would continue to try and rationalize his clearly dumb and wrong statement. "How exactly could this be construed as public intoxication?" I asked him once again. He clearly didn't have an actual answer so he pulled out his handcuffs and asked 'is someone tryin' to get arrested today?' Jarred who was talking to the female officer quickly chimed in and said no. I of course, was still perturbed and was wondering what exactly we had done wrong. So I again asked the officer "how is this public drunkeness? We're on private property?" He responded "Anytime anyone can see you drinking at all, it's public drunkeness." This statement was clearly 100% bullshit which only made me want to retaliate further. "No it's not..." I responded. "Are you telling me if I'm sitting in my house with all the windows open and someone happens to see me from the street then that's public intoxication?" Of course I asked him this with the expectation he'd finally give in and say no because he had already made a fool out of himself. Then he said "yes." So then I asked "so essentially, unless you're in a room with closed doors and no windows you can be arrested for public intoxication?" Then he asks me what I do for a living. I inform him that I'm a student. He then starts bobbing his head like a fucking moron, somehow pleased at my reply for some, I'm sure, retarded illogical reason. "What's your major?" he asks. At this point I freeze up for about a second. I don't want to say psychology because it'll just play into the exact traditional blue-collar interpretation of anything to do with the science, not that there is anything wrong with blue collar jobs. "So what are you majoring in?" he asked me again. "Street fighting." I said. And stared at him comletely straight faced, while everyone around me laughed. He immediately reached for his handcuffs and commented "well you're about to get a test in that today." When Jarred interjected and said "psychology." And then he just smiled and did his retarded ass overconfident head bob-thing again. "I knew it had to be psychology or law," he claimed. Yeah. I'm sure... Anyhow we finally took the sign down but the best part was yet to come. Both cops got back in there cars (while people were still honking at us, and we were still drinking) and then while the female cop was driving off she layed on the horn the entire time she was pulling away, while the male cop just drove off silently like a fucking prick, who was clearly mad. Yet another cop getting a...
Reality Check.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Flashlight
Before I started blogging I had sort of an unofficial-agreement with myself that none of my blogs would be sports related in anyway whatsoever. Mostly because 99% of sports blogs are so laden with fucking lame pop-culture crossover references theyre unbearable to read. And that most of the bloggers are huge fucking faggot ass tools. But I'll have to make an exception to my own rule to set up the context of this post.
I started drinking, hard, around 9am on Sunday. In preparation for the Nascar race of course. I was confident Jeff Gordon was going to do well, given he, along with Jimmy Johnson, is basically the best at "cookie-cutter" tracks, aka mile-and-a-half ovals. And of course he did do well. He led almost every single lap of the race, but the one that counted.. the last lap. I have a short temper to begin with but given that Gordon had lost, toward the end because of a bad call by his crewchief after he had led the entire race I was clearly pissed. The fact that I had drank around 12 Beast Lights just during the race probably didn't help this fact. I flipped out and this is where, I think, the flashlight incident happened. I can't say for sure because as soon as Gordon lost I chugged a couple of beers and semi-blacked out, aside from remembering parts of the flashlight incident. A 'Nascar nap' aka passout was definately imminent.
I wake up on my couch and look over the the clock on my iHome. My eyes are still tired as hell. It's 12:30. I immediately think damn, how am I this tired if I slept that long, until about a half a second later when I realized it was 12:30 AM, the middle of the night. The fact that no ambient sunlight was coming into my far basement window (I have the window near my computer blocked by cardboard 'blinds,' which consist of both Totino's and Milwaukee's Best Light boxes taped over the entire window) tipped me off to this fact pretty quickly. Damnit I think. I'm immediately frustrated by this blow to the schedule of my already screwed up circadian rhythm, especially since I know I won't be able to fall back asleep anytime soon. So I finally get the motivation to get up off the couch I had passed out on to go turn on nearest light switch. Then I notice a couple of things. The left side of my left foot hurts like hell and I'm almost hobbling on it to attempt to walk. I then notice several shards of some reflective material which appeared to be glass, broken glass of course, shining the ambient light coming from my computer back at me. It was at this point I noticed the bruise I had on my inner-right bicep. I'm not really one to complain about bruises, injuruies or pain but I have absolutely no clue how a person would get bruises in these two places. The outside of a left-foot and then the inside of a right bicep. I just can't even comprehend how either would happen accidentally. So I finally flick on the light switch. I see shards of broken glass all over the floor. I'm initially confused. After gathering all the shards I walk over to the garbage can and see a fucked up flashlight lying in the garbage bag and remembered some of my previous destruction. When I subsequently looked at the dent in my door my suspicions were confirmed. I had gotten so mad that Jeff Gordon had lost the Nascar race earlier that I for some reason took a flashlight and threw it as hard as I possibly could against my basement (metal) door. Which I guess isn't all bad since if I threw it against anything else there would be a massive hole in the wall. The thing that intrigues me most is why I chose a flashlight among the huge array of other, harder unbreakable metal things. I'm guessing it was just blind rage but unfortunately this is a question I will probably never know the true answer to. Hopefully these winter storms don't get more severe because if the lights go out now I'll be stuck in the dark and I'll have given myself, yet another, reality check.
I started drinking, hard, around 9am on Sunday. In preparation for the Nascar race of course. I was confident Jeff Gordon was going to do well, given he, along with Jimmy Johnson, is basically the best at "cookie-cutter" tracks, aka mile-and-a-half ovals. And of course he did do well. He led almost every single lap of the race, but the one that counted.. the last lap. I have a short temper to begin with but given that Gordon had lost, toward the end because of a bad call by his crewchief after he had led the entire race I was clearly pissed. The fact that I had drank around 12 Beast Lights just during the race probably didn't help this fact. I flipped out and this is where, I think, the flashlight incident happened. I can't say for sure because as soon as Gordon lost I chugged a couple of beers and semi-blacked out, aside from remembering parts of the flashlight incident. A 'Nascar nap' aka passout was definately imminent.
I wake up on my couch and look over the the clock on my iHome. My eyes are still tired as hell. It's 12:30. I immediately think damn, how am I this tired if I slept that long, until about a half a second later when I realized it was 12:30 AM, the middle of the night. The fact that no ambient sunlight was coming into my far basement window (I have the window near my computer blocked by cardboard 'blinds,' which consist of both Totino's and Milwaukee's Best Light boxes taped over the entire window) tipped me off to this fact pretty quickly. Damnit I think. I'm immediately frustrated by this blow to the schedule of my already screwed up circadian rhythm, especially since I know I won't be able to fall back asleep anytime soon. So I finally get the motivation to get up off the couch I had passed out on to go turn on nearest light switch. Then I notice a couple of things. The left side of my left foot hurts like hell and I'm almost hobbling on it to attempt to walk. I then notice several shards of some reflective material which appeared to be glass, broken glass of course, shining the ambient light coming from my computer back at me. It was at this point I noticed the bruise I had on my inner-right bicep. I'm not really one to complain about bruises, injuruies or pain but I have absolutely no clue how a person would get bruises in these two places. The outside of a left-foot and then the inside of a right bicep. I just can't even comprehend how either would happen accidentally. So I finally flick on the light switch. I see shards of broken glass all over the floor. I'm initially confused. After gathering all the shards I walk over to the garbage can and see a fucked up flashlight lying in the garbage bag and remembered some of my previous destruction. When I subsequently looked at the dent in my door my suspicions were confirmed. I had gotten so mad that Jeff Gordon had lost the Nascar race earlier that I for some reason took a flashlight and threw it as hard as I possibly could against my basement (metal) door. Which I guess isn't all bad since if I threw it against anything else there would be a massive hole in the wall. The thing that intrigues me most is why I chose a flashlight among the huge array of other, harder unbreakable metal things. I'm guessing it was just blind rage but unfortunately this is a question I will probably never know the true answer to. Hopefully these winter storms don't get more severe because if the lights go out now I'll be stuck in the dark and I'll have given myself, yet another, reality check.
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