This is one of my favorite stories, and since it's just about that time for everyone to go Christmas-crazy I thought this an appropriate time to share.
I have an uncle. He's handy and hard-working, but not exactly what you'd call a charmer. He doesn't have a lot of what you might call "people skills." He works hard all day, everyday, no sick leave, no vacation, and feels that everyone ought to do the same. I can't imagine him hugging.
Now that I'm thinking about it, I don't think in all the years I've been alive that I've seen him wear anything but his slightly grease-stained jean shirt and jeans. He has a low, grumbling voice and a long ponytail.
A couple of years ago he asked my mom to take over his Christmas shopping, which he claimed was so stressful that he couldn't handle it. My mom agreed and he gave her money and a list.
Now let me clarify what I mean by "list." He gave my mom an excel spreadsheet that had dozens of names of people that he gave gifts. And, he had recorded every single thing he had ever bought going all the way back to the 80's!
What did I get in Christmas of '92? A He-man action figure. '96? $15 Blockbuster gift card. Crazy. Who keeps a list like that? Plus, he bought for people who would stretch anyone's definition of "extended family."
People are strange and I love their little quirks. I love the surprises people give you when you get a glimpse into their lives. Forgo 'normal' people, my friends, and surround yourself with the interesting and bizarre. You'll be much happier when you do!
Good luck shopping.
Caleb "I only shop for kids" Shreves
Tweet
Monday, November 15, 2010
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Entry 108: What. The. Fuck.
True story.
I'm looking up snowmobiles on Craigslist under the "RV" section. I see this headline:
"To the guy for the Tri-Z"
And I'm like, "huh?"
So I read the post:
"Tried to get ahold of you but couldnt. Would you be willing to trade for Garbanzo Chickens? Would be willing to throw in some Meat Rabbits to sweeten the deal if needed."
Um. WTF.
He's going to throw in some "meat rabbits." Oh wait, sorry, those are capitalized. "Meat Rabbits."
I think I'm going to have to email this guy.
Caleb "No seriously WTF" Shreves
Link
I'm looking up snowmobiles on Craigslist under the "RV" section. I see this headline:
"To the guy for the Tri-Z"
And I'm like, "huh?"
So I read the post:
"Tried to get ahold of you but couldnt. Would you be willing to trade for Garbanzo Chickens? Would be willing to throw in some Meat Rabbits to sweeten the deal if needed."
Um. WTF.
He's going to throw in some "meat rabbits." Oh wait, sorry, those are capitalized. "Meat Rabbits."
I think I'm going to have to email this guy.
Caleb "No seriously WTF" Shreves
Link
Tweet
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Entry 107: Just A Little Sodomy, Right?
Canada just got awesomer.
Say that you and your partner thought it would be fun to engage in a little erotic asphyxiation. You're pretty sure that she said a little dildo-anal action was okay, but now she kind of... passed out. You can't wake her up and have her officially consent to anal fun-time, so do you go ahead with it anyway?
Sure you do.
And everything's fine. But then you have a fight with her 2 months later and, you guessed it, now she says it was non-consensual. You go to court; lose. You appeal; win. Now the case is before the Supreme Court of Canada! (How 'bout that, eh?)
The court is now going to have to decide whether a passed-out woman from voluntary erotic asphyxiation could have given consent to having a dildo shoved up her butt.
Who says the law is boring?
How do you rule? I'm going with innocent here; they were dating, they were having sex, she agreed to be choked out. I'm sorry- you're saying that she had a "line" somewhere that was crossed? Huh?
Shreves out.
PS Article Tweet
Say that you and your partner thought it would be fun to engage in a little erotic asphyxiation. You're pretty sure that she said a little dildo-anal action was okay, but now she kind of... passed out. You can't wake her up and have her officially consent to anal fun-time, so do you go ahead with it anyway?
Sure you do.
And everything's fine. But then you have a fight with her 2 months later and, you guessed it, now she says it was non-consensual. You go to court; lose. You appeal; win. Now the case is before the Supreme Court of Canada! (How 'bout that, eh?)
The court is now going to have to decide whether a passed-out woman from voluntary erotic asphyxiation could have given consent to having a dildo shoved up her butt.
Who says the law is boring?
How do you rule? I'm going with innocent here; they were dating, they were having sex, she agreed to be choked out. I'm sorry- you're saying that she had a "line" somewhere that was crossed? Huh?
Shreves out.
PS Article Tweet
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Entry 106: Why I'm Not Voting Today
Is there a nefarious plan to make people think that all candidates suck and to not vote? Maybe that's part of how the people on top of the political heap stay in power. If so, it's fairly brilliant because it has worked on me and I'm ideological opposed to not-voting.
When I hear an attack ad, I immediately go all LSAT-y on it and pick it apart for its logical fallacies, out-of-context quotes, and general ass-ishness. I think to myself "I'm going to vote for the other guy simply because this guy is willing to make and ad like this."
But then I hear an ad for the other guy, and it's just another attack ad on the first guy.
Sigh.
Then who do I vote for? Some fringe candidate who wants to [insert radical proposal here]? No, no... that's not good. There's no alternative, and there is no lesser evil. Just two equal evils and a system designed to keep out reasonable and sensible candidates.
So I stay home.
Some of you will probably know me enough to also assume that I'm probably just lazy, and don't know where to vote or know what I need to vote or have the research done ahead of time to know specific candidate's policies. And you would be right (mostly).
But I say that there is a difference between not voting because you're lazy when you should vote, and not voting because you're lazy when it's not worth voting in the first place.
Sadly in this midterm election it seems like I'm facing the second option. Oh well- more time to finish the Halo Reach campaign on legendary.
CS Tweet
When I hear an attack ad, I immediately go all LSAT-y on it and pick it apart for its logical fallacies, out-of-context quotes, and general ass-ishness. I think to myself "I'm going to vote for the other guy simply because this guy is willing to make and ad like this."
But then I hear an ad for the other guy, and it's just another attack ad on the first guy.
Sigh.
Then who do I vote for? Some fringe candidate who wants to [insert radical proposal here]? No, no... that's not good. There's no alternative, and there is no lesser evil. Just two equal evils and a system designed to keep out reasonable and sensible candidates.
So I stay home.
Some of you will probably know me enough to also assume that I'm probably just lazy, and don't know where to vote or know what I need to vote or have the research done ahead of time to know specific candidate's policies. And you would be right (mostly).
But I say that there is a difference between not voting because you're lazy when you should vote, and not voting because you're lazy when it's not worth voting in the first place.
Sadly in this midterm election it seems like I'm facing the second option. Oh well- more time to finish the Halo Reach campaign on legendary.
CS Tweet
Friday, October 29, 2010
Entry 105: Lessons From A Fictional Trans-Gender
Hey there, peeps.
I finished a book by Gary Mathews titled "Little Red Rooster." Good book, sort of a first-person coming of age story for a young smart-ass in a small town. In a bizarre twist, the main character (Burris Weems- great name!) befriends a guy at his summer job whose girlfriend has a trans-gender father (mother?)... sort of.
Apparently the girl's father, "Gene," was married for years and occasionally dressed up in his wife's clothes (who doesn't?) While not gay in the catcher/pitcher sense, Gene decides to pursue his true self by having surgery done to become a woman. Like, all the surgery. As in, doctors removed his wang and replaced it with... a vagina-like thing. (don't even want to think about that.) His doctors made him wait a year to perform the surgery, as they wanted to make sure he was certain as the surgery was irreversible.
Gene was smart enough to tell the doctors what they wanted to hear and went through with the surgery. Then he regretted it in every sense of the word and lived a miserable and depressed life, dependent on his daughter to take care of him and provide minimal emotional support to keep him from killing himself. Which, in the end, he does anyway (and Burris packs him in the trunk of a car with icebags as part of a crazy scheme to get with the daughter. Yeah, weird.).
So Gene was smart enough to get his way and what he thought he wanted, but dumb enough that he had no idea of what he really wanted in life. Think about it: had he been smarter he would have realized that the surgery was a terrible idea and not gone through with it. Had he been dumber he wouldn't have been able to convince the doctors to perform the surgery.
Putting the sex-change them aside, how many of you feel like you live in a gray zone somewhere between too dumb and too smart? I think I do. I've asked some of my friends if they could choose to be dumb but happy would they do it. They all say no. Why? Would you make that trade? Peace and contentment at the low price of your self-awareness and wits.
I still feel most of you wouldn't trade your smarts for peace, but what if I threw in another bone: say, a great sense of humor? Better looks? What would it take?
I for one think I'm close enough to the boundary to just work on my smarts some and get out of the gray zone. I know a few people who could stand to be just a bit dumber, too.
Smart or dumb, however, I ain't cuttin' off my wiener.
Caleb
PS did you read about the dude that hooked up with Christine O'Donnell? Tweet
I finished a book by Gary Mathews titled "Little Red Rooster." Good book, sort of a first-person coming of age story for a young smart-ass in a small town. In a bizarre twist, the main character (Burris Weems- great name!) befriends a guy at his summer job whose girlfriend has a trans-gender father (mother?)... sort of.
Apparently the girl's father, "Gene," was married for years and occasionally dressed up in his wife's clothes (who doesn't?) While not gay in the catcher/pitcher sense, Gene decides to pursue his true self by having surgery done to become a woman. Like, all the surgery. As in, doctors removed his wang and replaced it with... a vagina-like thing. (don't even want to think about that.) His doctors made him wait a year to perform the surgery, as they wanted to make sure he was certain as the surgery was irreversible.
Gene was smart enough to tell the doctors what they wanted to hear and went through with the surgery. Then he regretted it in every sense of the word and lived a miserable and depressed life, dependent on his daughter to take care of him and provide minimal emotional support to keep him from killing himself. Which, in the end, he does anyway (and Burris packs him in the trunk of a car with icebags as part of a crazy scheme to get with the daughter. Yeah, weird.).
So Gene was smart enough to get his way and what he thought he wanted, but dumb enough that he had no idea of what he really wanted in life. Think about it: had he been smarter he would have realized that the surgery was a terrible idea and not gone through with it. Had he been dumber he wouldn't have been able to convince the doctors to perform the surgery.
Putting the sex-change them aside, how many of you feel like you live in a gray zone somewhere between too dumb and too smart? I think I do. I've asked some of my friends if they could choose to be dumb but happy would they do it. They all say no. Why? Would you make that trade? Peace and contentment at the low price of your self-awareness and wits.
I still feel most of you wouldn't trade your smarts for peace, but what if I threw in another bone: say, a great sense of humor? Better looks? What would it take?
I for one think I'm close enough to the boundary to just work on my smarts some and get out of the gray zone. I know a few people who could stand to be just a bit dumber, too.
Smart or dumb, however, I ain't cuttin' off my wiener.
Caleb
PS did you read about the dude that hooked up with Christine O'Donnell? Tweet
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Entry 104: Overload
One: the Hiccup Girl, Jennifer [I'm too lazy too google her last name] killed some dude. Are hiccups a defense for murder?
Two: Charles Manson is up for parole soon and has always said that if he gets out he knows the town he's going to live in. Guess how far it is from my house? Less than 15 miles. Why that town? He says it's the one town in America where you could for certain get away with murder.
Three: The World Maid-Rite Eating Competition is happening here in town, soon. Do I join? I don't even like maid-rites?
Four: I have a lot of thoughts on wind-chimes and wind. Mostly stemming from the fact that my wind-chime is on the ground because it was blown there by- you guessed it- the wind.
Sadly this cluster of activity is too much for me to process in any sort of coherent way, so I'm just going to walk away.
Caleb "I hope Charles Manson doesn't kill me" Shreves Tweet
Two: Charles Manson is up for parole soon and has always said that if he gets out he knows the town he's going to live in. Guess how far it is from my house? Less than 15 miles. Why that town? He says it's the one town in America where you could for certain get away with murder.
Three: The World Maid-Rite Eating Competition is happening here in town, soon. Do I join? I don't even like maid-rites?
Four: I have a lot of thoughts on wind-chimes and wind. Mostly stemming from the fact that my wind-chime is on the ground because it was blown there by- you guessed it- the wind.
Sadly this cluster of activity is too much for me to process in any sort of coherent way, so I'm just going to walk away.
Caleb "I hope Charles Manson doesn't kill me" Shreves Tweet
Monday, October 25, 2010
Entry 103: Just Do It
The first time you do it you learn about your body's coping mechanisms. You watch a person fall out of a airplane and a quiet voice in the back of your mind says "hmm. Seems odd. Doesn't falling out of an airplane usually mean a terrible accident followed by a spectacular death?" Yup. Not this time though- you have a parachute (and some dude) strapped to you and you're about to to follow suit and fall out of a freakin' plane.
Your breath comes in short bursts and your panic switch gets turned on. But then... then everything goes blank. You just calmly look out the door, lean forward-back-forward, and fall to the earth. Oddly enough, the exact moment you hurtle out the plane door is when your previously checked-out mind decides to return in full force. And guess what? It's awesome. Epic. Monumental. You're not falling- you're flying! You are literally flying through the air.
The roar of the wind rushing by you is deafening. Any communication- if it exists- is by instinct and hand signals. By the way, they don't even bother teaching you hand signals on your first jump because you're too sky-tarded (just made that word up) to remember your own name, let alone what a hand shaped into a circle in front of your face means (check your altimeter, fyi).
So I jumped again Friday. No fear this time (fine, some) just excitement. And the ability to fully "be there" and enjoy what's going on. This time I checked my altimeter several times, did all the procedures correctly, and even remembered to look up at the horizon while spinning around in my 'chute. Which, by the way, is one of the coolest parts. Roar, falling, roar, loud, noise; then... poof. Silence. You're floating at 5,000 feet in complete peace.
I'm going to go ahead and recommend that all of you skydive. Especially YOU- the one who says it's too scary and a crazy idea. You owe it to yourself.
And guess what? After your second jump you can enter the AFP program to get licensed, and your third jump is solo. Yup, solo. Granted, an instructor jumps with you and holds on the whole time, but still. Solo.
I think I'm going to try it. Maybe next spring when it warms up (and I save some money?).
Caleb
PS I went 39-7 on a Halo: Reach match. I'm that awesome. Tweet
Your breath comes in short bursts and your panic switch gets turned on. But then... then everything goes blank. You just calmly look out the door, lean forward-back-forward, and fall to the earth. Oddly enough, the exact moment you hurtle out the plane door is when your previously checked-out mind decides to return in full force. And guess what? It's awesome. Epic. Monumental. You're not falling- you're flying! You are literally flying through the air.
The roar of the wind rushing by you is deafening. Any communication- if it exists- is by instinct and hand signals. By the way, they don't even bother teaching you hand signals on your first jump because you're too sky-tarded (just made that word up) to remember your own name, let alone what a hand shaped into a circle in front of your face means (check your altimeter, fyi).
So I jumped again Friday. No fear this time (fine, some) just excitement. And the ability to fully "be there" and enjoy what's going on. This time I checked my altimeter several times, did all the procedures correctly, and even remembered to look up at the horizon while spinning around in my 'chute. Which, by the way, is one of the coolest parts. Roar, falling, roar, loud, noise; then... poof. Silence. You're floating at 5,000 feet in complete peace.
I'm going to go ahead and recommend that all of you skydive. Especially YOU- the one who says it's too scary and a crazy idea. You owe it to yourself.
And guess what? After your second jump you can enter the AFP program to get licensed, and your third jump is solo. Yup, solo. Granted, an instructor jumps with you and holds on the whole time, but still. Solo.
I think I'm going to try it. Maybe next spring when it warms up (and I save some money?).
Caleb
PS I went 39-7 on a Halo: Reach match. I'm that awesome. Tweet
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)