'Erez sum ORKZ...

Santa Ork is coming to crush a stuffed animal near you, very very soon.






"IZ sum' stuffinz in im' bearz!"


=Sean

It's cold.

It's London. It's cold. It's tiresome. It's too dark. It's too loud. It's too crowded. It's depressing.

:)

I'm enjoying myself.


More by Christmas on that.

=Sean

The king and his men
stole the queen from her bed
and bound her in her bones.



The seas be ours
and by the powers
where we will, we’ll roam.

Yo ho, all hands,
hoist the Colors high.
Heave ho, thieves and beggars,
never shall we die.

Yo ho, haul together,
hoist the Colors high.
Heave ho, thieves and beggars,
never say we die.

Some men have died
and some are alive
and others sail on the sea
– with the keys to the cage…
and the Devil to pay
we lay to Fiddler’s Green!

Yo ho, all hands,
hoist the Colors high.
Heave ho, thieves and beggars,
never shall we die.

Yo ho, haul together,
hoist the Colors high.
Heave ho, thieves and beggars,
never say we die.

The bell has been raised
from it’s watery grave…
Do you hear it’s sepulchral tone?
We are a call to all,
pay head the squall
and turn your sail toward home!

Yo ho, all hands,
hoist the Colors high.
Heave ho, thieves and beggars,
never shall we die.

Yo ho, haul together,
hoist the Colors high.
Heave ho, thieves and beggars,
never say we die.


By the by, a good movie. Pirates 3.



=Swoz

Microsoft gets a green star this week.

Because Microsoft doesn't believe in sharing.

I had a pretty well done follow up post to go with Andrea's (see below.) But Microsoft decided that I cannot use their software anymore, so I have 5,000 + words of awesomeness stuck on a word doc that is untouchable. Naturally this work was detected as going too well by the corporate hounds, and I was given the shaft. What a heaping, steaming pile of fail. Too bad I can't rub your noses in it and smack the daylights out of you with a rolled up newspaper.


Microsoft you get a green star,

Expect to hear about it at parent teacher conferences.

=Sean
(mildly annoyed.)

Warcraft, Maeviis, and Me

(Stovokor - Sean, Maeviis - Andrea, Alvius - my brother Jon)

Guest Writer: Andrea

Well, my own World of Warcraft story begins with my oldest brother introducing me to this disturbingly addictive game. I’ve been and still am a huge huge fan of computer/video games like Monkey Island, King’s Quest, and Zelda. These games are more about thinking through the situations, with the occasional fight tossed in, and having ridiculously cheesy and awesome graphics and jokes to keep you jovial and peppy while playing. I just don’t particularly enjoy having my hands sweat as I try to navigate through abandoned space stations only armed with guns and grenades and have to avoid getting mounted and sliced by some freakish alien thing around the corner. But I’m a girl, so I’m excused from having to like games like Halo 3 (Seriously, it looks so dull. I don’t even care that I might be the only one that thinks that, which it looks like I am). But back to my Warcraft tale…

I created a female human mage, named her Maeviis (after a favorite Phil Hendrie character Mavis Leonard), and proceeded to enter this goofy yet fun fantasy game. I loved it. It’s a Medieval-style setting, with all different landscapes and inhabitants. I was in awe of how much land there was to explore, and the idea of doing quests to progress in the game was exciting. It felt like playing Zelda, except it was more personalized and you could talk to real people and play along with their characters.

I think one of my favorite aspects of the game is the guild names that are out there. Guilds are really just clubs or teams that one or two people form and name and then try to recruit others to join. Once you join you have that club name under your character name as you run around the cities. I get a kick out of some of the names people come up with, like [Hold My Beer and Watch This], [Set Course For Pie], [My GF Is Letting Me Play]. The one I and my brothers originally joined was [Circus Midget Deathsquad]. Pretty awesome name, no?

It took a few months and way too many vacation days solely spent on this game, but I got my character to the max potential of level 70 by completing quests and killing bears, trolls, and undead. Once you hit the limit that you can do alone, you have two different paths before you, or both depending on how much time you have to waste in the game. The first is Battleground and Arena. Battleground is where you join a queue for a team to do games like Capture the Flag, or where you have to protect your bases and try to capture the other side’s bases. Arena is you create a team, either 2 vs 2, 3 vs 3, or 5 vs 5, and then go in to battle in an arena setting. You gain points from killing the other side and from winning the games, and those points can give you the ability to buy really nice gear that makes you harder to kill. The second route is raiding, which essentially means you needing way more people to kill the mobs and bosses, and the gear that comes from killing these things are superior. This you do mostly with your guild, and the normal size of raid teams are either 10 or 25, depending on which place you’re going to. Since [Circus Midget Deathsquad] was too small of a group for raiding and I didn’t enjoy battleground/arena too much, I decided to join [Eden] (following Sean after he joined), which had a need for my mage at the time. It was a lot of fun for the first few months, and going through these new places and getting pretty gear for Maeviis was completely addicting. I enjoyed learning the little tricks and moves you needed in order to defeat the bosses, and then hoping that certain gear drops.

BUT… when I became one of their permanent raiders, they started requiring me to be there at least 3 of the 4 nights every week, which really is as bad as it sounds. Not to mention the time I had to spend making back gold to pay for repair bills and replace different consumable items that I needed to have Maeviis remain a killing machine. I also had a problem with actually liking the people in the raid. You spend hours and hours with them and most are either creepy, big goofs, or downright dumb. I seriously only liked 2-3 people in the whole current 25-man team. And I don’t really have anything against southerners, but when 40% of the team’s voices are a southern drawl and it’s beat into your brain for hours and hours, there weren’t very many happy moments. I would take my headset off to play in silence and just guess at what the team was saying rather than suffer through that garble. Throw on top that I was in school with projects, tests and a grad school application to worry about, and I was quick to whip out that mean and wilting sarcasm on them. When it got to the point where I had to leave from social gatherings early or couldn’t go out to eat on a Sunday afternoon because I had stupid raid to attend, I knew that this had become too ridiculous. So I quit the permanent raiding team and in the process gained some sanity back. I still play, albeit much less now, but it’s gone back to being pleasurable.

Thankfully, the Warcraft overload hasn’t killed my love for adventure games. I still salivate when I look at the Zelda website, a game of Rollercoaster Tycoon still makes me happy, and I continue to troll the Internet hoping to find some news about a new Monkey Island game that might possibly be in the works. As long as Nintendo lives, I will support.
_____________________________________________________________________________________
My absolutely biggest complaint about Warcraft (I have many, and boy does Sean know), is how many people with kids and a wife or husband play this game. Sure, casual play is cool, sort of, in strong moderation. But these people are the ones that are playing 5-6 days a week for hours on end. I’ve heard kids crying in the background, a player needing to take a 5-minute break to go change a diaper, or needing to tuck the kid in to bed. Seriously, what the hell? Why are you wasting your time on this game when you have a family that should take priority over a bunch of lame strangers in a guild? These players that are 30 years old and older make me sad. I’m 22 and I feel like a schmuck for playing. If I was married and my husband suddenly developed an obsession with a game, I wouldn’t hesitate to seduce him away from the game console or computer and then when he wasn’t looking just destroy the demonic thing. That’s how I roll.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

my pumpkin.

so evil

=sean

Woah.

O baby, needing you has proven to me,

to be my greatest dream.




Al Green is the man!

+Sean

Fox, CNN, MSNBC, FAIL O

California, Killafornia.

This whole situation with the fires in California has me concerned. Yes, I have friends out there who it might involve, and that is primary, and I worry for them daily.

My issue.

However you look at it, to the American media this is the year’s disaster and is quickly shaping up to be the next big sensationalized event. Not to say that it isn’t already, but watching it today it bugged me to see. Surely there’s a tremendous amount of loss occurring both financially, naturally and emotionally but there’s such a scramble to get the top scoop on the fire that it’s just making the coverage seem ponderous. I don’t need to know that when the wind blows it lowers the moisture value in a specific California hill grass by 22% per 10mph. frankly… fire is going to burn anything, we’re human and I’m willing to throw it out there and give the benefit of the doubt.

Disaster sensationalizing is wrong, cut it out.

Fire burns stuff. Dur hur hur…

Who knew? Right? I don’t know to whom they are attempting to appeal, but an overflow of information is like I said before PONDEROUS. It doesn’t accomplish anything but clutter my screen with pie charts, two live feeds and a ticker bar. So many colors in motion that it’s downright epileptic; it would run any anime into the ground. It’s stacked on top of the soothing voice of Lou Dobbs.

Media: Give us the information, remove the machine. Stop trying so hard, no one cares about production. We’re here for the story and the people, not your pretty face.

=Sean

The world sucks again.

"Dumbledore gay and proud of it. JK Rowling has confirmed Albus Dumbledore gay! Now that we know the Dumbledore gay thing is true will the people start changing the color of his clothes in the book, or maybe should the digitize the movie and change all his clothes to something should we say more flamboyant."





No he freaking is Not!

Douchebag.

Go DIE in a fire Rowling.

=Sean

Albuquerque.

The biggest city with nothing entertaining to do in America, an entire city built on Illegal workers. What a miserable time I had there. Taken from a relatively comfortable lifestyle, living on my own in a spacious pre-furnished apartment and thrown into a single shared bathroom billet for 6 months. Stack that on top of constantly needing to study, a new super stressful airframe and knowing no one, you have my time in Albuquerque.

I’m glad I went, for sure… I would have never met certain people and traveled to certain places. But gosh darn it, it was bad.

The other much better story,

Chino Hills, what a great place… The landscape is eh-ish, being mostly scrub and brown but it’s made up for with the views. Anyways, the airport in Ontario, CA is regional and is sufficiently small- while not being small. It’s California small, if that makes any sense. Does to me, whatever. So I arrived, and wandered a short walk down to the baggage claim, waited for the bag and got my flurry of texts from Andrea attempting to figure out where I am. We eventually decided that just calling for 10 seconds was faster than texting.

I hate the phone. Humans need to just be telepaths.

Anyways, she apparently ended up orbiting 3-4 times before finally finding me. Maybe it didn’t help that I forgot what kind of car she drove. (fail) So she arrived, I finally noticed and was wowed, the woman is gorgeous, it’s stupid… hanging out with a scrub like me. (hehe) Anyways, we shortly piled into the car and hauled off to In-N-Out Burger which had about a quarter million people flooding through, I guess that is normal. The burger was pretty darn good, thanks again to Andrea for coaching me on proper ordering techniques… even though she ordered for me. The fries were meh, maybe they need to be fresh and these weren’t I don’t know.

We drove out and ended up at Casa Bean’, which is amazing by the way. Got the short tour, and only confirmed the amazing verdict. I met the siblings too, all of which are super cool. Heavyweights; a child’s movie-ish. I made my top 10 being so completely fun and absurd. I loved it. The hype was for once totally worth it. Thank goodness… after was Kung Fu, then sleep after wandering the dark parts of town looking for a hotel that Google said was there, and was not.

The next day started early with lunch and a day of movies. All so much fun.

Sunday started much the same with food- which was again good, we traveled to the beach and sat out mocking a poor bird being attacked by the waves and being contemplative. I really truly enjoyed myself out there. THEN! Raiding. Raiding is always meh, so we attacked the tedium by switching characters for the pulls. Even that was a little tedious, it mostly got us killed. Star Wars and spaghetti/salad followed.

I sat up for the rest of the night watching South Park because my flight left VERY early in the morning and would have been worse off sleeping.

I we traveled shortly back to the airport laughing to Hendrie all of the way. Exchanged a hug filled goodbye; I decided to snatch a kiss too. ß-whore.

Overall, the whole thing was a great adventure and I haven’t had that much fun in a long time, even if it was just stuffing myself with food and watching movies. Company can make or break a trip and the company was amazing.

I look forward to doing it again sometime.

=Sean

wut?

"I heard a thousand blended notes while in a grove I sat reclined In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts bring sad thoughts to the mind. -Wordsworth"

Um.

Today I offer little, that’s again par for the course. I might bring myself to updating this thing more frequently now. I do fiddle with these amazing blog posts daily, but never find that they are good enough. Surely if I am not entertained you lot would never be, right!? Who knows…? The world is a confusing place. I think I have a life element figured out, and then I get a man named reality, now at first glance reality is not a big man, he is just a fairly unassuming amicable fellow. Then you notice that he is inching up on you, just a little. Every time you look up from your computer, your book, your television, there he is being unassuming, but doing it closer. Then you look up again, and he is peering over the top of your book/computer/television at you and saying something. You can’t quite hear it, but now you are interested… so you inch closer. He smiles, and kicks you right in the junk, laughing as he walks away.

Life can be a real ball buster sometimes… jerk.

On with the story,

And from the flames as chance would have it, I have returned home. A drive so uneventful it’s not even worth commenting on in great detail. New Mexico, Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, Florida. I think Mobile Alabama was the funfest of the lot because it had a tunnel, a short one.

How dull.

Get something fun you states. I almost passed out at the wheel, if it weren’t for the horrible vision blocking rainstorms that hit from Shreveport and on all the way to home I might have. The downright epic eye watering sulfur smell crossing the Mississippi river didn’t help either. Or truckers being complete and utter douche-holes and cutting me off.

Hour upon hour of Hendrie made it all ok… Thanks to Andrea for that.

Here I am, sleeping on the floor and enjoying my home. It’s full of food, music and my garbage. But damn it all, it’s mine and I’ll do what I like with it.

Love,

=Sean

Next is a summary of my visit to Southern California and crashing the Hills of Chino.

A moment in time.

So there I was, sitting cross legged on the floor of our favorite old womans department store- Dillards, staring up at the vast array of packaged underpants and socks. It was something of a odd place to be, sandwiched between the shoes and the casual section, enveloped totally by the leftovers from Back to School Madness. I was the calm candy center of this consumerist grown vortex. This is to say that the store was a ravaged hell hole, but my little zone was clean, my own Patagonia....of underwear. Nothing could sway me from buying a new pair of boxer-briefs and comfy new pair of ankle socks (my old ones have a hole, and that simply will not do.) ... I sit amazed at the vast array before me.

Single, or multi pack?

Cotton, Wool, Silkish thing...?

Black- Check
Grey- nah
Brown - never in my life.
Some sort of teal-ish color? - What color WAS that?

Elastic waist? - of course... a must for the active climber.

No tag or big tag. - tag it!

Flap? (you know, in the front...) Check...

In a rainbow realm of underwear, I lost myself in thought. I didn't come to think about how weirded out the old Indian woman pushing around her purchases in a baby cart would be at me, or the 400lb security guard who was sweating profusely and eating ice cream, no...I was lost to the variety inspired day dreams.

What purpose does this story hold? I'm not sure where it sits in significance to you, but I know that every day even in the oddest of places take a moment and think. Think about anything! Boyfriend/girlfriend, Mom/Dad, Your Car, School, what you want to do next month, the girl you have a crush on!

Anything.

In the swirling maelstrom of Dillards, I lost myself thinking about Home, a girl I like, and how much I love my friends and family.

Then I got the black pair.

:)


=Sean

I don't like my old title so all I have is this.

Day 2. As promised, one month later.

<.<

- ANYWAYS! The drive continues!

8am

I drive, with absolute haste out of Louisiana and into Texas. We attack the closest IHOP destroying their supply of coffee and pancakes. I get hot Chocolate with whipped cream. Conversation is had, and all is well.

Nom nom nom… pancakes.

We press through the heartland of America, a zone so flat and unendingly boring I could be willing to blare country music to pass the boredom. I did… just so you know. Another reason for it being that we were in Texas, and apparently Texas= Cowboys! Who knew?

Gar…

We press through New Mexico (horrible), continental divide? We all query: What the heck is it?

Into Arizona (this takes 5 hrs) we meet a wall of VERY morbid billboards, most spattered with dead children, auto crashes, and drug/alcohol motifs. Apparently the Indians of the area have a problem… we decide all the other billboards, offering a variety of Native American cultural products, Fry bread, kachina dolls and of course…ice cream. We decide it’s like spamming the trade channel in WoW, unfortunately for us we can’t put them on the ignore list.

I accelerate.

We stop at a massive middle of the desert truck stop, deciding that it was a Trucker mall, which really it was- just with 150 miles of road on both sides. Jared buys a copper bracelet for his lady, we giggle. Charity wanders off, and I wait for the janitor to finish cleaning the bathroom. He takes 40 minutes; apparently he was cleaning the floor with fire and ceremony, a process of dances and communes with ancient spirits. By the time he is done and I go in to use the bathroom, I expect a lavish palatial bathroom. It is instead a palatial hellhole, sort of like Saddams palace after we dropped a bomb on it.

I characterize:

Wreckage. First sight, as in all public restrooms it seems like- one of three stall doors is kicked in and lying on the floor.

Water. There’s a small lake on top of the counter with some sort of film growing on it. I giggle a little.

DO NOT WANT. There’s a toilet…WITH CRIME SCENE TAPE across it. I mean…hell. How bad does the clog have to be that local law enforcement needs to get involved? It WAS the same stall that the door was kicked in on…

I somehow use the rest room; wash my hands (with my own soap…) and press.

We make it to Flagstaff sometime that night, and fly into the hotel, with much happiness to not be driving.

8pm

There’s a Jacuzzi at least.

I sleep like a baby.

I’ll combine the last bits, because there’s not much to it.

J

Next morning we plot our trip the Grand Canyon. We stop for a fantastic breakfast at a small hippy café. I get a tomato pesto breakfast burrito with jalapenos. It was epic.

We make the hour drive out to the big hole. It’s epic, it’s big.

We leave an hour later and somehow Charity ends up drunk from Mike’s hard lemonade. We’re not sure how that worked out.

ON the way home, we stop for Mexican food, which some how ended up being a pizza. I somehow manage to make Charity mad enough that she leaves and waits in the car.

I still don’t know why or how…

Jared and I decide to take revenge for her assholery and bait her on some fake fossils; she almost spends $200 on them. We almost laughed. Oh well. We laughed anyways. The greasy biker who was making a career wandering the world carving fake fossils with his tools, and selling them to idiots, we figured it would be a worthwhile career for Jared and an apt use of his artistic skills.

A good bit of rock-climbing follows.

Then, I dump myself in Albuquerque. Where I am currently, and where I am attempting to vacate.

Rar…

A sorted tale; built of drama, adventure and love-lost. So I tell of my odyssey west into America and the tragic loss of romance between two lovers.

The first day; and a plot device builder!

~~

May 31^st, 2007, Mary Esther Florida: Early morning, I rise- quivering with apprehension and a great need to pee- as is common in the morning. Sleeping on the floor and stealing my blankets is Charity, my girlfriend of the time. You inquire as to why she is sleeping on the floor? I answer thee; I had only moved into the apartment a week before from Alaska, and all my things were still in boxes. (I don’t own any furniture yet...) Anyways… The day prior she had revealed to me stunning a trust crushing news of relationships with past friends of hers of an…intimate nature. (I’ll use the word intimate as a general term for a lot of bad stuff people do with each other.) A reaction, I put the comment off as inconsequential initially, something of a defense mechanism, I suppose. It was pretty much exactly what I didn’t want to hear from her. In the months earlier we had come to be closer to one another, more than ever before we were intimate with each other. Sometimes in ways I considered immoral and wrong before, but in this case I justified it under the grounds of love. Was it ok? I’m still not sure…but I don’t think so, and after several weeks of thinking about it, I had hoped each time maybe it would suddenly feel and be ok…It never really was, what she shared with me was the end of it all. I became aggressive in our intimacy as a consequence to my justifications, hoping again that it would somehow be ok. (No more into detail you sickos.) Lets just say God and I speak a great deal these days, and I have never felt worse in my life about anything. I violated my own standards. I officially am in my own crappy guy box.

Our Couple status is currently unknown; it’s awkward like that. /cry

To end the rambling, and carry on with the narrative, I woke feeling apprehensions about having to leave my new home of Florida to go train in New Mexico. 350 yays to that, it’s hot out here, and dry…I’m going to hate it. I always try to make the best of it; I grew up in Phoenix- so maybe I could make the best of it as I had out there! I’m not a pessimist though I might sound like it because of a finely edged sarcasm; I always see the end result as good and fulfilling…whatever the drudgery in-between.

Day 1: We packed, ate and attended to our various details. Prepping ourselves, at least for Jared, my hetero-life mate (reference Jay and Silent Bob) consisted of the clothes smell check and brushing our teeth. We were not out to impress anyone. Besides, I was still bitter that I had to throw away an almost new gallon of milk! *CRY* I thrive on cereal and it seemed almost blaspheme to do so. We attack the road! After smashing Jared’s bags, which were modest, and my own which were modest for 3 months of being away from home, and a woman’s- which are never modest, even for a week long trip into my two door slightly blue shade 1990 Honda accord, we hammered off onto the Florida roadways. We aim directly for the first hurricane scarred Super-Wal-Mart, to gain provisions. Most notably goldfish (Charity), granola bars (Jared) and cream-soda (Sean). After an hour of fiddling in the store of stores, we leave and repack the car, gaining maximum space and ease of unpacking, a true feat.

Then the bloodied odyssey begins; the car doesn’t start. So, we play nose goes and Charity awkwardly asks a mom to jump my poor little over loaded old car. This was after I manned up asked and was promptly driven off on by a scared looking redneck woman who didn’t approve of me approaching her car and knocking on the window. She could have just pepper sprayed me instead of lying and saying she had a doctors appointment…we officially hit the road after a successful jump. Several hours pass wordless, but full of laughter. Charity wedged in a pile of her stuff in the copilots seat, and 6’2’’ Jared sitting in a nook in the back, with his legs enveloping the seat in front of him. Did I mention Dane Cook is fantastic for hours of laughs? So it wasn’t quiet at least.

We enter Mississippi, and stop and Cracker Barrel for some AMAZING pancakes. Lunch proceeds with much conversation and us waiting for the Charity to smoke… yuck.' We go outside to leave, and again…the car fails to start. At this point I begin to plot the doom of the horrid little blue car, which up to this point had survived 4 years of Alaskan winter, two of them at my hands- that’s saying something, as I’m a pretty terrible driver in general. Anyways, I direct Jared and Charity to continue begging for jumps while I move off across Mississippi to find an auto shop; I find one across the street. God smiles on us some times when we REALLY need it. I am endlessly appreciative of this bit of luck, and him I promise to pray more. After an hour and a half of standing awkwardly of the auto shop, they come back to me and give me a bit of detail about my battery being loose. Etc etc etc…I buy it, what the heck do I know about cars!? They charge me nothing, news that makes me gleeful.

I steal an air refresher.

It was on the ground… what? I was gleeful…

The road: Several hours later we stop for gas. And thusly, our adventure with the Hillbilly woman with the Mad Max truck begins. We have a full tank of gas, and we ask her for a jump- She immediately tells me it was my starter, she heard it click…from across the parking lot, inside her truck, with music blaring. I don’t hear it with max silence and me clicking the starter, I have a war in my brain maybe…all in all there’s only one thing to say about it:

Damn she’s good…

She offers the jump anyways to confirm, she confirms like a pro and offers to push start my poor car. We do, and we cheer, each giving her $10 for gas money. Now she was gleeful, and I was feeling marginally lucky, with this full tank of gas I could get to Biloxi. The road seems good from here. Somewhere in the learning of how to push start my car, she offered a piece of info on a mechanics shop just down the road, we decide to check it out and hope for the best.

I turn off my car…like a pro.

Dumbass…

Maybe it’s endless optimism that keeps screwing me, or maybe it’s endless naïveté --- I can’t be sure. So we attempt a hillbilly woman free push start. Somehow during all of this, while someone is leaning on the car- and no one is inside at the controls it starts and begins driving itself directly at the auto-shop owners van. After a spectacular leap and wheel turn I dodge by mere inches and stop the car.

It’s off again…dammit all…

The pushing begins anew, and we somehow get it push started by going backwards, don’t ask how- It just happened to work out that way. The mechanic after watching us toil to start my car tells me he can’t fix it anyways… I have a dislike list, and he made it. Bastard. After this last part, I decide the road leads to Biloxi and does not stop for anything in between. Because if we cannot find someone to fix the car, at least we can get a decent hotel and see what happens the next day. I get off the interstate at an appropriate looking exit, and god AGAIN smiles on me, and gets me a NAPA certified auto shop. One that conveniently has professionals, who diagnose my problem and send us away so they can work on my poor little car, they do this in less than 10 minutes, they charge me $350.

Condition: Gleeful. Again. Somewhat poorer.

We spend the hour they needed in a rundown (more than usual) Dollar General, sword fighting with paint rollers and buying all the cheap shiney beads for Mardi Gras. The rest of the time is spent in a booze store perusing the Rum and chatting it up with a gay man who runs the joint, finding out what goes best with Rum and Japanese Peach wine was a character building experience. I didn’t really participate in the conversation, being as I don’t consume… I enjoy my cream soda thanks, but it’s good to know now. I spend the time in the store enjoying the different RUM types and all the pirate connotations based off of that… What if pirates had pineapple/coconut rum!? Would they have actually gotten any pirating done? I doubt it. We attack the road, after the car starts immediately and without the usual slight hesitation and vibrations, feels like $350 worth of work to me. I am calmed, collected, a little sweaty and full of cream soda. The day is young.

Louisiana: If you ever wanted to be bored of the radio and sight seeing, drive through New Orleans- cross the mighty (smelly) Mississippi river (smells like poo and exhaust.) which is mega and mighty in all ways and get out in the BFE zones of Louisiana. You’ll hear preachers, gospel, and country and talk radio. You’ll stop at gas stations with all the local high school girls hanging out eating ice cream, and talking about us…because we are new and exciting.

It’s bad. It’s scary.

Fortunately we made it to our intended destination, and we crash into a run down Super 8 Motel.

The pool was closed.

Jared enjoyed his rum, and some HBO porn on our television with the broken remote.

Convenient.

Sleep after…

Day 2: To be continued.

=Sean

I offer it to the world...

I have a sort of criteria for dating, and I offer it as filler... til the tale of epic roadtrippage can begin.

Without further adieu; The Checklist? In a sort of ordered importance… (uh..)

1.) - Sense of humor! Must be compatible.

2.) – Sense of Adventure! Have one, and use it often.

3.) – Faith. Believe in something, and believe strongly.

4.) – Family. Love and be loved. Who else do you have when all goes bad?

5.) – Self reliance. Don’t make me babysit you, it’s TEDIOUS…

6.) – Good physical habits. Smoking is the least attractive thing ever.

7.) – Morality. I like a person who has sense enough to keep it on, and the world out.

8.) – Duality. There’s a you for everyone and a you for me. We should be able to talk about things that no one else knows about.

9.) – Communication. Know how to express yourself, pour out all the frustrations and bad stuff.

10.) – Creativity. Have a hobby, do something expressive…

My list?

Surely.


=Sean


(I'm on the left, achieving max-goofy if you wanted to know.)