Don't buy condoms at the dollar tree

As I am sure none of you are aware, for the last five months I have been running for public office. The seat that I was running for (well, close to a fast walk) was Position 1 on the Board of County Commissioners. For those of you who don’t know what that is, the Board of Commissioners (there are 5) allocates funds and serves as the main governing body of the county.

Anyway, that last paragraph was almost irrelevant to the rest of the story except that I was in town for the election night return party and that was why I was not at home sleeping, eating, or something else of no consequence. But, I was out and about with my younger brother (the same one from an earlier entry about painting).

One of the things we had to do was decorate our table at this party of winners and losers. To the Dollar Tree! Of course, the place were you can buy defective straws. So, I left my brother at the location of the proposed shindig to hold our table, and headed for the one-stop-shop for knock-offs of knock-offs.

After acquiring the necessary garbage to make the horizontal surface to which we had laid claim look like the king of tacky land’s feasting hall, I hurried back to make sure that my kin had not killed, maimed, or freaked out, himself or anyone else.

As it happens he did not, and we were able to create a platform of perfection without disturbance. This task complete, and seeing that we had four hours before the main event started, combined with the fact that they turned out the lights on us, we decided to leave this place and see what the relatively big city had to offer.

That’s right, we went to the mall.

Upon arrival I sent my irrational relative to see what movies were showing whilst I headed for the cigar shop. Hey, if this thing took a turn for the extraordinary, and I made it through the primary, I wanted to be ready. Yes, the party was inside a no smoking building, but you would not believe how fast I would get ten feet away from the door and light that up if I made it through.

After rendezvousing with the stench that never ends, we decided that there were no movies worth watching and went to get dinner.

After a double cheese burger with bacon, we headed back to………………….the Dollar Tree! Yeah baby. Candy, Chinese products, and some weird homeless guy I keep seeing around town.

At this time we made several candy purchases and chose some more decorations for our round table of riches. But, as we were checking out, my simple sibling spotted a basket full of foghorns in a can. He implored me, be begged me, he pleaded on his knees for me to allow he to get some. Being the softhearted soul that I am, I said he could get some, but he could not bring them inside the party. Under these conditions he got three.

Because he had to go to the back of the line, I finished my transaction ahead of the dust cloud that is my brother, and proceeded to the car.

As I was about to unlock my vehicle, a young lady pulls in next to me on the passenger side of my ride. Out she gets from her rig and walks around it to the passenger side of her car. At this time I had found the keyhole and was just turning the key when she talks to me.

“Excuse me.”

I look up, to see if she is truly talking to me. Low and behold she is. What do I do, I am a sheltered home schooler, I never learned how to talk to women. In a desperate attempt to not let my lack of communication skills show I say, “Yeah.”

It must have worked because she did not get back in her car and drive away. Instead she continued to address me.

“My baby is asleep, and I would hate to wake her up, would you mind running inside and getting a few things for me?”

WHAT IS GOING ON? Is this the greatest day of my life or the worst?, I can’t tell at this point! Is this a joke? Is she going to be here when I get back? When I get back will she have taken off the wig and mask and turn out to be an ugly ass guy? I just don’t know. Be cool, be cool.

“Yeah, I can do that. What do you need?”

“Two pregnancy tests”.

WHAT THE HELL? Is this the greatest day of my life or the worst? I can’t tell at this point! Where are the cameras? Did someone I know set this up? What would Jesus do?

“Alright”

Holy crap, I am really doing this. I am at the door. I am inside the store, I am in the aisle. Tampons, pads, ovul............ What the hell is an ovulation prediction test? I think this is what it is. I am about to grab them, when, out of the corner of my eye, I see the real deal.

Relieved that I now had the thing, I proceeded to the checkout lady that this would make the third time that day, and the second inside of five minutes, that she had taken my money.

I am in line. Where are the cameras? I am second in line. Is this gal going to slap me in the face? It’s my turn now. She looks at the stuff, she looks at me. Here it comes.

“Is this a joke?”
At this point if I had been thinking on my feet I should have said “No, you guy’s condoms suck!” but I was not, and only managed to say,

“Lady, I am waiting for the cameras myself, I swear”.

She looked like she did not believe a word I said, but hey, my money is as good as the next. She takes my money. I take my pregnancy tests. I leave the store and, willikers, this chick is still here. There are no cameras. She is still a female, or at least she did not take off her wig and mask.

As I walked up to her she says “I am sorry, I hope I did not embarrass you”.

“Lady, I have two sisters, I have done way worse things”

Firefighting

Upon browsing the internet, I came to the realization that I have not divulged anything about my life to people I don’t know for quite some time. I now plan to change that. I shall regale you with information that will make little, if any, sense.

First off, for the past 5 weekends I have been attending a recruit firefighting academe. (In case you don’t know, I am volunteer firefighter and have been for almost two years). The class I am taking however is not sponsored by my department. If is put on by another one that we sometimes have to work with. They are very happy to have me there in spite of the friendly criticism that is inevitable between to competing originations. There is always something that someone is heckling someone else about, such as “It took you 2 min to put your SCBA (self contained breathing apparatus) on? Man, you just let somebody’s baby die.” Or “how long did it take you to hook up that hydrant? The truck will be empty by the time you are ready for water.” And so on and so forth.
Being the unstoppable force of nature that I am, I was at the top of the class in most things. I have one of the fastest donning times for the SCBA, I have the fastest times donning my turnouts, I leave little room for criticism.


One of the things I have come to realize is that, as a firefighter, I am always in urgent need of a bath room. For example, one of the instructors wanted us to put on our SCBAs and walk around until we are completely out of air, thinking it would take about half an hour. Well, shortly after we started the call of nature took me, and I was torn between seeing how long it takes to use a bottle of air, and the urge to suck down the rest of the air and get it over with. To add to this dilemma, it was a team event. So, if I were to use all my air really fast it would hurt my partners overall time as well as mine.

In the end (64 minutes later) I opted to be a team player and tried not to think about how stupid I would look when I messed in my turnouts.

Also, being from a small bathroom break of a town, on top of the normal fazing of being a firefighter, training with another department, MY department sort of has been stereotyped as redneck/backwoods. As much as I dislike such a thing I have to admit that there is some truth to the assumption. The story goes as such.

The first fire I ever went on was at a sort of run down, half way house, for criminals in between jail terms. I was fast enough getting out of bed and getting dressed that I got on the first truck out (our pumper). One the way, the chief tells me that there should be a fire hydrant near by and he wants me to take it (connect a hose to it so we can get water to the pump on the truck). Being very new and not having very much training (like I said our department is kind of back woods) I was a little worried about my job. Never the less I was going to impress the chief, so I said “not problem, I will take the hydrant”.

As soon as the truck stopped, I jumped out and started looking for the fire hydrant. After ranging through waist high brush and freaking all the neighbors out, I decided that the chief must be wrong and the hydrant did not exist, I gave up the search and told the chief I could not find it. As it turn out, it was only a little fire, and we were able to put it out with the water already onboard the fire truck.
After the fire was out and we were putting all the hose back on our engine, I look over and see a refrigerator on the side of the road right next to the house that was formerly on fire. How odd. Thinking nothing else of it I continued relaying hose. Right before we left the chief and I took one last walk around to make sure we had every thing. As we came around the last corner, we saw that the refrigerator was right in front of a nice yellow fire hydrant, sitting right where we could not see it. So, if you ever come to my town, and need to find a fire hydrant, just look for the refrigerator on the side of the road.

When the Adams family goes to town

The other day my family decided to have a little night out on the town. So, we loaded up the van and headed for the hopping retirement town of Florence OR.

Upon arriving in said town, we made a bee line for the popular pizza joint. Well, not really a bee line. It was more like a 90 degree turn with a half moon on the end of it. We pulled in the parking lot and hastily made our way inside. As could be expected of a Friday night, the place was doing record business (I think I counted eight people inside). Not at all deterred by the throng of late night bingo players, we managed to find one of the 20 unused tables, and promptly doubled the relatively fast pace of the place.

As always when we come to this restaurant, we amused ourselves with the trivia that is provided on the table. You learn all kinds of strange and sometimes interesting facts, be they general (Q: what is a lion ant? A: a bug) or specific (Q: what was Tom Hanks in the movie toy story? A: a cowboy).

After devouring the delicious pizza, we ran out of the restaurant like it was a bad date. Well not a bad date, just an old one. And with making only a few stops to pick up a couple of old guys that we happened to hit and to yell at a chap begging on a corner (it had something to do with getting a job), we ended up at our destination. THE DOLLAR TREE! Yay!

Is there another store whose employs are so creepy looking or so un-helpful? If so then surely it must be yet another dollar tree. What a wonderful store, what a magnificent waste of cash. What a bizarre candy selection. If you asked, yes, this young man’s family’s idea of fun is going to a store where everything is so cheap, that if it is not eatable, it will not make it home in working order. How sad you must think we are. But, as I had said to my mother earlier in the evening, “I would rather think I am smart, than to know I am stupid.” Therefore, I forbid any negative input on this matter, lest you burst my bubble and cast me into “the depths of despair”*.

On with the party; this time to the movie store. As we were running a little behind at this point, we elected two members of the family to enter said movie store (you should see 8 people getting out of a van, when three are in car seats) and rent only movies which ruined anyone working on them, from the producers, to the poor bloke that had to deliver them the hate mail that they got after the movie was released.

As you can see, it is a charmed life I live.

*who ever guessed what this quote is from gets to buy me lunch.

Nothing in Particular

Good evening. Well, not really, (it is, in fact, shortly after noon) I just like to say “good evening”.

That being said, I would like to move on to say that I am in an infinitely happier, and all together better state of mind than in recent (or not so recent) posts. In fact, I would go so far as to say, that I am feeling quite optimistic about the future (mine at least).

Now, on to stuff that actually matters (in truth, I don’t really think any of what I am about to say matters, but if you are reading this I don’t think you are going to care)

First off, as most of you should know (because most of you are readers of my sister’s blog, and only read mine because you are doing it as a favor to her (Yes, I know what’s really going on.)) my sister is getting married an a few weeks. As you can imagine, the whole world is not only revolving around her, it is revolving for her. I find my self driving my sister somewhere, listening to all I did not want to know about Victorian style weddings, what kind of moving van they are going to have to rent to get all their stuff across the country, and how she “just loves all the dresses that the brides maids have” (that last part is suppose to be read in a falsetto voice).

Also, I am unexplainably accumulating jobs (that I am not getting paid for) that involve me doing stuff, for reasons I don’t understand. It does not really bother me to not know why I am doing something (it’s really my life story), but I don’t know why I am doing it.

Anyway, my sister (the one getting married) told me the other day that she was worried that I was not taking my brother-in-law duty seriously. Read this:

Sister: “Rainor, I am worried about you being a good brother-in-law.”

Me: “What’s that suppose to mean?”

Sister: “You know, being a brother to Silas.”

Me: “Look, if he wants to play video games together, I am fine with that."

Sister: *looks at me like I am a dog, stuck in a puddle about half an inch deep*

The up shots of all this (the sister getting hitched and moving away) is that:

1: there will be more room at the dinner table

2: there will be more room in the car

3: there will be more room on the couch

4: I got a really cool new hat

5: I don’t have to wait as long to get into the bathroom

Well, it looks like you could lump 1-3 all together and just say “more room”, but it looks like more things are going to be better the way it is.

Expounding on up shot #4, I got a really cool new hat. It is a black fedora, with a black band, and a really gay feather in it. To understand why this hat is so cool, I have to tell you the story of how I got the suit I wear it with.

A couple of months ago, my sister and I (the one that is going to tie the knot) where in a second hand store, looking at dresses for her. As can happen easily, I got tired of her exclamations of terror, horror, and elation at some of the ugliest clothing I have ever seen. So, in a desperate attempt to save my sanity, I walked over to men’s clothing and took a look a suit coats. I did not need one (I had a decent one already) but I was getting bored with the one I had. Also, I knew a guy that just got a three piece suit, for $45, so I was on the lookout to find a better deal than that, just to rankle him.

Anyway, I was looking at some old coats that seemed to me, to fit a traveling sales man to a T, when I came across a gray, pinstripe, two piece suit. In utter astonishment, I grabbed it, and ran over to show my sister, still exclaiming over ugly dresses. As her eyes laid upon it, her jaw bounced off the clothing rack, off the roof of her mouth, and came to rest on the floor. For a moment she said nothing, then, regaining control of her mouth, said “Does it fit you?”

“I don’t know” I replied “there is no way it could”

“Well let’s try anyway” said she, almost in a wispier, as if someone might see we had a something of value and steal it.

We made our way over to the dressing room, using every bit of concealment we could, lest we find out that an employee had misplaced their personal clothing, and stole into a stall. Moments later I emerged, wearing a perfectly fitted suit, from the pants, to the sleeves, to the chest, it fitted me like bat man fitted those crazy under pants that he wore on the outside of his pants. That is to say, it was marvelous.

As you can see, all that it lacked was a hat, and I had been on watching for the right one. But with wedding fast approaching, I thought I had better do more then watch out for one. It was then that I started my search in earnest. About a half hour later, I had discovered the hat of which I have spoken, in one of those skateboarder clothing stores in the mall, sitting on a hat rack.

It is important to note, that I had also purchased a dark gray shirt, and black tie for the wedding, and that I was wearing them while I was shopping for a hat, so I could see how it would look altogether.

Soon after I had entered the store, and begun to view the hats, one of the ladies who worked there asked me why I was all dressed up. So I told her “I am going to a wedding, and am looking for a hat”. She was very excited that I would be doing such a thing and was very helpful with the selection process.

After finding the hat, I then had to walk to the other end of the mall which, ordinarily, would not have made me happy, except that I had donned my new piece wonder, and now reassembled a 1930s gangster/2009 pimp. Take your pick, but either way, people stared at me all the way to my car. No joke. And it gets even better. I had been have a really good time, right up until I walked out to the parking lot, and got into my 1993 Chevy Corsica. For those of you that don’t know, a 1993 Chevy Corsica is a drug dealer car. As you can imagine that put my fire out pretty fast.

PS. I though you might want to know, the hat cost five times as much as the suit.

Today I walked into the kitchen make myself a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch. Upon entering said room, I found my sister. It is not important what she was doing only that she was there.

Anyway, I walked in and discovered the bread knife in drawer where it was suppose to be. With the happiness that comes from something being as it should, I removed the knife from its resting place.

As I did this, my sister, eyeing me with a kind of sideways wariness, picks up one of those all purpose kitchen knifes. Once we had eyed each other thoroughly the following dialog ensued.

Little sister: my knife is bigger.
Me: no, yours is only wider. If you were to make them the same height they would be the equal.
Little sister: yeah, but mine would hurt more.
Me: how do you know that? I think a bread knife would hurt pretty bad.
Little sister: Well, if a bread knife hurts more, why didn’t scream use one then?

To this I had no answer so I had to concede.

I am my own worst enemy

Along time ago on the other side of the country, I made a promise. It is not a complicated promise with bells and whistle, but an uncomfortable one to keep all the same. What is this thing that causes me to take key board under hand, you may ask. Well, I will tell you the distress that has haunted me for the past two or three years.

Like I said, when I was about nine or ten, I made a promise to my mother. That promise being as follows. I said “Mom, I promise you, that when I turn 18, then I will move out”.

That’s it. The greatest fear I have ever possessed, the sum total of all my worries, the thing I have worked against since I had realized that that day was nigh upon me. I cower away from the thought, I cringe at the mention of it, I curse myself, and my un-understanding childish ways. I am my own worst enemy, and the one I have to consult on what to do.

When I made this stupid promise, I had the same problem that I do now. That is that, I think I will be ready when the time comes. I mean, at the time 18 was along time away. That was the age of tall people, mature people, the age that I would know it all. But the opposite is true. I feel like I am less prepared now than I though I was at ten. It’s kind of disturbing to think that I thought I know more then, than I know now.

I realize that I have a choice. I could do as promised and move out, or I could just pretend that it never happened and do what I really want to do (that is, live at home and be a loser my whole life). But that would do two things that I don’t like to do.

First off, I know the reason that I don’t want to move out, it’s because I am scared. I am afraid of leave what I know. What’s more, I am content here at home. I never understood people that are all fired up to run off and start their own life away from their parents. Also I am lazy. Why should I go out of my way to get something that I already have? I ask myself that question to fool myself into breaking my promise. And if I do not move out, I would prove to myself (if to no one else) that I was a coward.

Secondly, I hate liars. I can not stand a person that dose not tell the truth. So if I were to break my promise and throw away all my cares, I would become which I hate (sort of like the dilemma that Luke Skywalker had if you ask me). I would become not only my worst enemy, but also that which I hate. Kind of interesting is it not? I mean how many people are what they hate, and there own worst enemy, because they tried to help someone.

The more and more I think about it, the more and more I have come to the conclusion, growing up stinks. Its way overrated. I don’t really like the whole grown up thing. And what really makes it so distasteful is that I am being forced into it. I was forced to get a checking account, forced to get a job, forced to get my drivers license.

Its not that I want to be 17 forever, I just I don’t want to have all the responsibility that goes along we adulthood.

I really do not doubt that I will grow up and become a “responsible adult”, and become as boring as the best of them, it’s just, that like being a child.

Just what I was thinking when I woke up this morning. Its kind of depressing, sorry that you read the whole thing. I would fell kind of bad if I made someone even more unhappy than they already were. So if I did, don’t tell me. Thanks.

Pie

Seeing as how it is the heavyweight pie eating season, I would like to dedicate this to pie, the king of sweets, and to the infinite superiority of pie over cake.

Firstly I would like to list the reasons that pie is the duchess of deserts. Pie is the epitome of all deserts. Cake and cookies have a topping, doughnuts, Oreos, and Twinkies have filling. Brownies, and cheese cake (which is actually is another form of pie) have chocolate. Pie has all of these. Pie can be topped with every thing from a chocolate drizzle to whipped cream to ice cream. You can fill pie with everything from chocolate, to peanut butter, to fruit.

I have taken a lot heat because I love cheese cake. People will say stuff like “Well there goes your pie over cake theory.” and “You talk pie but you eat cake.” when in reality cheese cake is just another pie. It is true. Look at the facts.

Pie has a crust. Cheese cake has a crust.
Pie is served with whipped cream. Cheese cake is served with whipped cream
Pie is wonderful. Cheese cake is wonderful.

You see, cheese cake is just pie with another filling. Is not pie marvelous? To be able to change form so fluidly to (somewhere back in history) have one of its forms named for its own group.

Pie is also without season. Of you think about it the best time to eat cake, it is from May to October, with a little stint in January, while pie is eaten the year around. In the summer, everyone wants apple and berry pies, while in the winter pumpkin, cherry and chocolate have come into fashion, then in the New Year, cheese cake will come into its own, starting the cycle all over again.

Also, pie is more easily transported that cake. Think about it. If you are going to a party and you are bringing a cake, you have to either leave it in the cake pan and take along a serving platter, or you put it on the platter first and take the risk that the cake will spill on way to wherever you are going.
With pie on the other hand, all you have to do is bring the serving spatula.

Even though I feel strongly about this I fear all I have done is to maybe secure a few fence riders. For if you are a fan of pie already you have been reinforced in your beliefs, if you are a cake fan you are still a cake fan, and if you are on the fence you probably are still on the fence. Anyway thanks for reading.