Say What?

As was explained by one of my subordinates, who is 21 years old and has completed high school:

"The people that own WaWa...they is Christianity."

Wait...what?

Now, this guy/kid has an uncanny knack for saying things like this. This isn't an isolated occurrence, and I can guarantee there will be more of his words of widsom featured in this blog. We have determined that he doesn't speak English, but rather his own created language, which has been dubbed "Bennish".

Meet Denzel

No...not THAT Denzel. Although, he IS pretty kick-ass. And he IS a really great actor (with the exception of "Out Of Time"). And he IS devilishly handsome. But, that's not the Denzel that I am introducing you today. I am introducing you to THIS Denzel:

This is our new Betta fish. He is a King Black Orchid Crowntail. His name is Denzel. And he is AWESOME! I've had other Crowntails in the past, and even a "rare" Yellow Crowntail, but none were as bad-ass as this guy.

Why did I name him Denzel? Well, for one, he's...AWESOME. And because Denzel won an Academy Award for Best Actor for his role in "Training Day". And because I remember the Titans. Never, ever forget the Titans. Never!

Anyway, I came home last night to find that one of our 2 Betta fish had passed on. His name was That Guy. And, being the horrible fish owner that I am, I don't even have a picture of him to post on here. I know that Bettas aren't meant to live forever, but they are still pets of mine, and I do feel a little sad when I have to flush one down the toilet.

I'm not sure of the mourning period required for the loss of a fish. I paid my respects and sent That Guy off last night, cleaned his tank, and prepared for his replacement. Bettas are pretty easy to care for and pretty inexpensive, so when one dies, I generally go out the next day and get a new one. I just like having them around.

Here is Denzel after I put him in his new tank. It's hanging on the wall in my kitchen. I love the blue in between his rear fins. He's AWESOME! Just like John Quincy Archibald.

Here is my other Betta, Jim Bob. No, he's not a siamese fish, that's just his reflection on top. He is a Crowntail, like Denzel. He's pretty cool, but not quite as awesome as Denzel. I mean, with a name like Jim Bob, it's kind of hard to be awesome at all. But, he tries.

Letter To A Stranger

Dear Skinny-Blonde-Girl-With-The-Whale-Tail-Standing-In-Front-Of-Me-At-The-Concert,

First off, I want you to know that I do feel just the slightest bit creepy for looking at your backside. Please don't let the mustache fool you...I'm not an "offender".

I can very much appreciate the fact that you wore your nicest (or cleanest) pair of extra, extra small panties to the Nickelback concert. After all, the chances of you picking up a hot, young stud tonight are higher than normal for a Wednesday night in Hampton, VA. So, good on you for coming prepared.

But, please...for the love of all things holy, tuck in your flipping tag! No one cares what size Hanes you wear. Good Lord! I know that it has to be driving you nuts because it's driving ME nuts just looking at it. If my shirt tag is sticking up, I can feel it and I tuck it back in. Problem solved. But, g-string tags are a little different. Especially since there is more fabric on the tag itself than there is on the entire pair of panties. That thing should've been ripped off before those babies ever even left the hanger. If you're going to "whale tail", you must do it properly. Leaving your sizing tag sticking out for all the world to see is not considered "proper". Go home, put your granny panties and sweat pants on until you have figured it out and then try again.

It's taking everything I can not to reach over and fix it for you. Well, not "everything". That security guy standing in front of you is pretty much my voice of reason. And I don't think I can take him when he sees me lean forward and place my fingers near the back of your britches and decides to leap frog the metal barrier at me. So, I'll just leave you to looking like a fool. Good luck with the rest of your night.

Sincerely,

Punch Dancer

Preckers? Cratzels?

No, I'm not drunk and talking gibberish. I'm not petitioning for Miriam-Webster to add some new words to the 2011 dictionary. I'm simply trying to figure out what to call these tasty little morsels that I have recently acquired an undying hunger for:

They are the new endeavour that has been undertaken by those mischievous Keebler Elves. And I, for one, applaud their tiny little efforts. Keebler is calling them "Pretzel Crackers". Yeah...real original. I particularly like my names better. Oh well.

They come in 3 flavors: Original (as pictured), Cheddar, and Garlic & Herb. I started out with the Original flavor, because that was all they had in the beginning. And, boy, were they scrumptious. The butteriness of a cracker, the saltiness and crunch of a pretzel. It's the best of both worlds. Then those little Elf bastards went and added flavor to these handheld pieces of heaven.

The only experience I have had with the Cheddar flavor was one cracker out of a box that had sat open for several days. Needless to say, it was uber stale and tainted my opinion of that particular flavor. For now, Cheddar = No Bueno. My loyalty lies in the Garlic & Herb variety. I might punch my grandma for a box of Garlic & Herb Pretzel Crackers. Sorry, Gram. They're just that good. And, it's a free box. FREE. Besides, bruises heal. Right? Anyway, back on topic...it's a "cratzel" with just a hint of garlic & herb flavoring built right in. When I say "just a hint", I mean just about that. It's not overwhelming. It's fairly subtle, yet enough to let you know it's there. "Hello, tastebuds. It's me, Delicious. Thanks for having me."

Now, these guys are awesome as a stand-alone treat. I could eat them by the boxful, although I know I shouldn't. You can also top them with various things. My two favorite toppers are some mild salsa and bologna salad, individually, of course. Just plain good. I haven't tried a hamburger dill as a tophat, but I can only imagine that it would be unspeakably delightful. If you have a tiny triangle of white cheese and a Barbie dreamhouse tomato, you could top it with those, as suggested by the front of the box. Yeah...those don't look at all photoshopped onto that cracker.

If you are bebopping down the Cracker/Cookie aisle of your favorite local grocer, snag yourself a box of these yummers. I can assure you that you won't be disappointed. And if you are, then you need to get new tastebuds, because the ones that you are currently using are obviously broken.

**EDITOR'S NOTE: I do not condone "grandma punching", nor would I ever partake of such a sport. The usage of "grandma punching" in the aforementioned story is only to paint a mental image for the reader, and contains no deeper meaning than such.

The Past 168 Hours

To my faithful followers who diligently frequent my page daily in hopes of the tiniest scraps of leftover wit, I apologize. I have not been showing you the attention that you so deservingly...deserve. You see, rather than just load this page with fluff in order to fill a daily quota of bloggings, I must wait for the appropriate instance to occur; something funny overheard, a random question; a nugget of wisdom, etc, etc. Sometimes these things happen within 12-24 hours of one another. Sometimes, it takes a little longer. And even still, sometimes I get a little behind and decide to do a big recap of things that should've been blogged about, but weren't. This is one of those blogs. So, grab yourself a drink, pull up a chair

In the past 168 hours, I...

* GOT A LIBRARY CARD - Yep...I got me a library card. I don't think that I have owned a library card in at least 10 years. Hell, I didn't even know that they still existed. With the Kindles and the internets and the iPods, I figured that libraries had gone the way of the dinosaurs. Much to my surprise, there is a library about 2 miles from my house. And it's a nice one, too. Now I have to find a book to read. I don't even know where to start. The last books I remember reading were Goosebumps and Judy Blume.

* RAN 5.5 MILES...ON THE BEACH - I ran 3.5 of those miles on my own accord. Well...not my OWN accord. I kind of had to run with my trainer. But, it was the same distance that the rest of the group ran. The other 2 miles were out of the kindness of my heart. Somewhere along the run, my trainer decided to drop her car key. But, she didn't realize it until around mile 2 of 3.5 (we ran 1.25 down, then 1.25 back). I ended up running the extra 2 miles back and forth along the beach, trying to find every place that we stopped at to do additional calisthenics. Remember...this is on the beach. Running on pavement sucks. Running on sand sucks even worse. Trying to find a single car key in the sand while running on the sand sucks to the 10th degree. I have never looked for a needle in a haystack, but I assume this is close to it. In the end, I found the key. The day was saved and we all celebrated our intense workout with a beer at the beach bar. Wait...what?

* TORE SOME SHIT UP - Who doesn't like tearing some shit up? Seriously. Everyone has some anger deep down inside (some more than others) that we just have to get out. And when you have to get out your anger, and cannot punch dance in the woods, you must do the next best thing...tear some shit up. I had to remove the old gate on the back fence, so that the new one can go up. There were 2 fence posts side-by-side cemented in the ground. Yeah...I wasn't getting this thing out of the ground myself. I needed some 4x4 assistance. So, I tied the tow-strap around the posts, then to the rear bumper of the X. Then, raw power ripped that thing clean out of the ground and across the front yard. However, my anger had not been quelled. I needed more. I took out my frustrations on the 2 Azalea bushes in the flower bed. Those things suck. Ugly as sin for 363 days of the year, tear-inducing beauty in the 2 days that they DO bloom. No thanks. Don't worry, I'll be replacing them. Now...what else is there for me to tear up?

* SAW SOME CAMELS -  No, I didn't go to the carnival, or the circus, or Saudi Arabia over the course of the last 168 hours. These were domesticated camels. I was driving down some road and saw a big pasture with all kinds of horses in it. So, I turned around and came back to see them again. There were a lot of horses, so I had to see them again. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that some of these horses were a little...taller than the others. No, not taller. These horses have tumors on their backs. Poor horses. No, they  Unfortunately, I didn't have my camera that day. So, I had to somehow find my way back to this place on another day, so that I could get some photographic evidence of these camels. Fast forward to yesterday. I found the place. The camels were still there, all 4 of them. While taking pictures, I noticed something a little strange. I know, right.What's stranger than camels in a pasture with horses? Nothing. Nothing except for...more horses...white horses...white horses with black stripes. Yes, not only did this person have a herd of camels (do camels travel in herds?), but they also had some zebras. I don't know if this is the training location for the county fair, or this person is a camel/zebra breeder/dealer. But, I do know that it was pretty damn awesome.

* GOT PHONE ENVY - I am one of the biggest advocates against the whole iPhone pandemic that we have become so obsessed with as a society. I have a phone. It does what a phone should do. It makes phone calls. It receives phone calls. Phone things. It doesn't play music. It doesn't get internet. It doesn't give me turn-by-turn directions. It doesn't make me a double frappe latte mochachino. It does what a phone should do. At least...it DID. I found out that my plan was to expire in May, and I could either upgrade to a new phone/plan, I could keep my current phone and just renew my current plan, or I could switch carriers altogether and get something new. I opted for the first option. And, for some unknown reason, I decided that I didn't want society to get too far ahead of me. I refuse to support Apple and their iPod brand, simply because I don't like them. I think the iPhone is a great tool. And if someone else made it, I would most certainly get it. But, they do not. So, I went with the Android platform, powered by Google. I upgraded my old, outdated Motorola Razr for a new, sleek, sexy Samsung Behold II with touch-screen. I have to admit, it IS pretty damn cool. It's got a lot of nice features and it actually might come in handy for whenever I am out and about and absolutely MUST know who is leading the World Hackey Sack Championship, or where the closest Norwegian buffet is. We shall soon find out.

* ATE SOME PICKLES - Damn right, I ate me some pickles. That's just an obvious one, though. In fact, as I sit here writing this, I am munching on a big, fat whole dill. It's mighty tasty.

Needless to say, I've been kind of busy lately. Granted, I could've written blog posts about each of these occurances individually. But, it actually looks pretty cool when doing it as a big collaboration of items. I'm not sure if this is going to become a thing or not. I'm still going to blog when something blogworthy happens. But, if those happenings are spread out, as was the case this past week, then I might try this again. We'll see.

Say What?

As was told to me by one of my Chiefs:

"So, um...Neal. I got a phone call this weekend. It was Dale Earnhardt. He asked if he could have his mustache back."

Wow. I mean, I know my mustache is pretty bad-ass. Some might even describe it as being "epic". But, I had no idea that my 'stache was so legengary that it could actually bring back the dead. I wonder who else I could channel with this thing. Freddy Mercury? That would be sweet.