The Wrong Lion Of Oz (my memories and stuff)

So I had taken Isis and the Ant to see a play of the Wizard Of Oz done by a traveling group at the local high school. They put on a phenominal performance for the kids, and due to one part in particularit was something the Ant will never forget.
Shortly after they had met up with the cowerdly Lion on the way to Oz, the actors had all danced off stage singing the 'Off to see the Wizard' song. All that is except the Lion who had stood and danced around in a circle while the rest of them headed left. He suddenly looked around and realized he was alone, so he asked the audiance which way the rest had gone. The kids in the audiance all shouted that the others had headed left, so the Lion replied that if they went that way then he was going this way, and ran out into the audiance to hide. Well, after a few moments the Scarecrow stepped back on stage looking for the Lion. He asked the audience where he was and once again the kids answered that he was hiding between the rows. So the Scarecrow marched out into the audiance and grabbed the Lion.
Except it wasn't the Lion he grabbed. It was me. (I had hair down to the small of my back and a full beard at this point in my life, and was considerably Lion like). I was dragged about half-way up on stage, with all the kids laughing, and the Ant cracking up so much she had tears running down her cheeks. Suddenly the scarecrow looked around and me and shouted in mock fear "Oh God! Wrong Lion!", and ran away from me to the other side of the crowd, which is where their Lion was hiding. Taking him by the hand they both went up on stage, the whole while the Scarecrow telling him about almost being eaten by another Lion while looking for him.
Needless to say Ant loved the show, so much so that last year she acted in a school play of... you guessed it "The Wizard Of Oz". She ended up playing the Scarecrow because the director felt that the Lion needed to be a male. Despite this she was the highlight of the show and was even given a standing ovation to her renditioning of "If I Only Had a Brain".
I told her she should have told him she would make a great Lion because she's related to one and it runs in her blood. If he questioned it all she had to do was have me go in and roar at him.

Question for the ladies (probably gonna piss someone off with this post).

Ok I have a question for the women out there: What is the meaning in Bra sizes? Out of the sex partners I've had, as well as several friends who I've gone shopping with, I've noticed that sometimes the whole bra thing just doesn't make sense. I had a girlfriend who was a 42DD and they were rather large, but I have another friend who is a 38DD and they don't look nearly as big. My little Heaven was measured for her wedding dress as a 40F yet she says she can sqeeze them into a 38DD if necessary, yet she is obviouly lots bigger than my friend who is 38DD. I just don't get it. My Kells used to be a 36C, but says she's a 36D now, which is only one cup size yet she looks almost 3x bigger than before. I know the differance between big tits and fat tits (big ones are permenant, fat ones will dissapear if the women losses wieght), but the whole bra thing just makes no sense to me. Growing up I had a friend who had to have her bras custom made at the age of 15, she was a 36H at the time (her nickname was the Genetic Freak and she was a lesbian and proud of her body even though people used to make fun of her. Used to have a blast sitting around making people think we were dating while we were actually checking girls out together.). So which sizes can you buy at a store? And whats the point of a stuffed DD bra? Or for that matter an A cup? I've seen both while visiting my Lil Sisi when she was working the Wal-Mart lingerie section. Should you just use a band-aid at that point (Not trying to piss any one off here, sorry if I do. In high school I had a jean jacket covered in buttons with differant sayings. The one I got the most crap about wasn't my FUCK OFF AND DIE one but instead my BOOBS COME IN THREE SIZES SMALL MEDIUM AND OH MY GOD one. All the big chested girls laughed and all the rest got pissy about it. Actually both the Demon and her sister thought it was the funniest pin they'd even seen). Also I've been told that the same size bra in differant makes will fit differantly, why? Isn't there an agreed way to measure them? It makes it damn hard to buy certain stuff as a gift (Such as aforementioned lingerie). Would the same size take differant bras depending on if they are either firm or droopy? I just don't get it. Why must you ladies make everything so damn difficult? I know women use a differant measurements for you pant sizes than men (We just use the real measurements of our waists, while you have some wierd code that doesn't seem to do any good at making you feel less fat. Especially when I know a girl who says she takes a size 3 but wants to loose wieght. A size 3 in men wouldn't fit on any part of my body!). Why is it that most of the time women arn't happy with thier bra size? If they're large they want to be small, if they're small they want to be large. The only ones who ever seem happy are in the C range. How am I supposed to buy stuff if I don't understand weather or not it fits!?!

This Sucks

So I have 2 days in a row off work and I've thrown out my back. This so sucks. I've spent most of my time lying in bed in pain. What a waste. Oh well, thats life. Sometime it feels like there is no light at the end of the tunnel.

Back from the abyss

I just wrote a huge blog about being back and lost it all due to hitting the wrong button. So let's try again.
Thanks to the return of 3 of our part timers and the hiring of a new girl I'm done for now with working 12 hour shifts. I have the next 2 days off and don't know what to do with them. So I'm sitting here drunk (Been a while since I got drunk. Beer? No probs. Vodka? Like water. Wiskey? Pshaw. Wine? wel... guess maybe I shouldn't down a whole bottle of Ken Ridge White Icevine on an empty stomach.) I was hoping to get to see BM but thats been shot down, so maybe I'lljust catch up on things I've missed. Some sleep, some sex, some comics, some sex, some friends, some sex, some blogging, and some sex. I still have several stories from my past to tell like Cliff Diving Death, Heaven's Big Gulp, RPGing Farts, Rooftop Chase, Chasing Rhode Island, and other fun, funny or just strange memories from my life. The Blind Idiot God is back at the Center of the Universe to blaspheme and bubble with madness and Chaos. I've so missed you all. Hope your all doing good.

Busy

Just wanted to say I'm sorry I haven't been and probably won't be on much for the next week or so. Do to short staffing at work I'm doing a lot of overtime and several Iron Man days at work. I'll try and get back on the next time I have a day off. Hope eveyone's doing great. Peace.

Soundtrack to Memory Lane

"Dance with me
I want to be your partner
Can't you see
The music is just starting...."

Almost everyone's life has a soundtrack. Differant songs get connected to people, places, and things in our lives. All it can take to take you back is to hear the music that was playing back then. I have a huge list of songs that can wisk me away to an old familiar place. Some are pleasent, some bittersweet, some sad.
This afternoon at work the song 'Dance With Me' by Orleans started to play. I was in the middle of doing a project for work and I had to stop and listen. I have, at one time or another, danced with every one of my girlfriends to this song. I don't dance often, yet somehow this song has turned up again and again in my life. I have many songs that remind me of people, but this is the only one that reminds me of ALL of my past love's. As I closed my eyes and lost myself in the tune I could almost feel thier embrace. I swayed through the years slowly spinning with them in my arms. My Meesha, Isis, Rie, Heaven, Demon, and Babushka. I could feel each in thier turn pushed against me, thier heads on my chest, thier skin under my hands, the smell of thier hair, the occasional steped-on toe. As the song ended I just stayed there smiling into space, my mind filled with old love that never truly dies, and current love that is as strong as ever. I wish somehow I could tell them all how glad I am I got to dance with them, how thankful I am that I will forever think of them when I hear this song.
Sometimes it's the little things in life that mean the most. The things that will stick with us when the pain has finaly faded. This is why I love music. It has followed my life and helped fill it with a soundtrack that I love to replay.

Brad Paisley "Alcohol"

I can make anybody pretty.
I can make you believe any lie.
I can make you pick a fight with somebody twice your size.
Well, I’ve been known to cause a few break-ups,
An' I’ve been known to cause a few births.
Well, I can make you new friends, or get you fired from work.

And since the day I left Milwaukee,
Lynchburg an' Bordeaux, France,
Been making the bars lots of big money,
An' helpin' white people dance.
I got you in trouble in High School,
But College, now that was a ball.
You had some of the best times you’ll never remember with me:
Alcohol; Alcohol.

I got blamed at your wedding reception,
For your best man’s embarrassing speech.
And also for those naked pictures of you at the beach.
I’ve influenced Kings and world leaders,
I helped Hemingway write like he did.
And I’ll bet you a drink or two, that I can make you put that lampshade on your head.

‘Cause since the day I left Milwaukee,
Lynchburg and Bordeaux, France,
I been making a fool out of folks just like you,
An' helping white people dance.
I am medicine and I am poison,
I can help you up or make you fall.
You had some of the best times you’ll never remember with me:
Alcohol.

Yeah, since the day I left Milwaukee,
Lynchburg an' Bordeaux, France,
Been making the bars lots of big money,
Helpin' white people dance.
Yeah, I got you in trouble in High School, But College, now that was a ball.
You had some of the best times you’ll never remember with me:
Alcohol; Alcohol.

The Iceman Cometh (my memories and stuff)

It was wnter time and a few friends of mine decided that we should all go to the slops and go skiing. I was 16 and had never been on skiis before, in fact I had never even had the urge to go. I knew nothing about skiing and wasn't big into the whole "snow" thing, but what the hell right? An experiance is an experiance. So we pack ourselves up and headed to the trails. When we got there we went and rented some equipment, since only 2 of our group owned ski's. One of them who did was my little friend Curley. He told me not to worry he'd teach me what to do and promised I'd have a blast. Now I knew he was a evil little bastard but it didn't occur to me to question this offer. So the whole group heads for the top of the slope, and not one of the "bunny" trails either, but a decent sized one. I was nervous, and in fact almost didn't manage to get off the ski lift. If he hadn't ynked me aside I probably would have gotten hit by the damn ski lift chair because I wasn't moving fast enough. That should have warned me. So as we're getting ready he deciedes to start giving me pointers. He showed me how to use those poles you get, how to stay upright n skiis (That took awhile, I'm not the most gracefull of beings). He explained how to turn.
Then he tells me "If you need to stop all you have to do is hunker down low in a crouch and force your wieght down on the skiis, thats aply pressure and will bring you to a stop".
If any of you have gone skiing, or even watched one of the 10 million skiing movies put out you'll see where this is going.
So off we went down the snow. At first it wa fun, a bit. Most of the party headed off down faster than I, so I was kind of left behind a bit. I went side to side and was enjoying the trip when I came to the steeper part of the hill. I decided I should go slowly down this part and so I hunkered down on the skiis. the only problem was that I didn't seem to be stoping. So I crouched down lower, but instead of crusing to a stop I started to pick up speed. So I crouched about as low as I could go, I was now moving too fast for me to turn, and I didn't even have the nerve to try and use the damn poles for fear of ripping my arm out of the socket from the speed I was attaining. At my height and weight (6'4", as I seem to end up saying every few posts now, and at the time about 230lbs) the amount of force I was pushing down with was pretty good, but it wasn't slowing me at all. I just couldn't understand. I was now heading into the rest of the skiiers on the slope and didn't know what to do. So I started to scream at people to get out of my way. Somewhere along the way I lost my hat, and so my hair was flying out behind me (It was about down to the between my shoulder blades at that age) and from what I was told after I made an impressive site. I collided with the first person at that point, some poor scmuck who I didn't think even heard me coming. I had kind of hoped that hitting someone else would stop me. He went flying and yet I didn't even swerve from my path, sometimes being big isn't an advantage. Then another person fell victem, and another. I was plowing into people every few moments, and yet I still kept going at an alarming velocity. I passed my friends and as I went by I clearly saw Curley laughing his a** off. It was at this point my brain realized I had been had. But there was nothing I could do by now but ride this out. More people came and went, victems of the Azathoth avalanche. Finally I noticed there was a turn in the slope and it was bordered by a fence. With no way to turn I braced myself and was brought to a jolting halt as I collided with it. One ski went flying, I lost the poles, and I fell on my butt.
A few people showed up to see if I was alright. They helped me up and to get the other ski off. Then Curley and the crew got there. He was laughing, but not for long. I picked him right off the ground and, ignoring his screams, slammed him down into a snow bank on the other side of the fence. With that I walked down the rest of the slope and waited at the lodge for the rest of them to finish. In total I knocked down 13 people during my flight down the snow. Fortunatly no one was seriously hurt.
Needless to say, that was the last time I ever got on skiis.

Knowledge is uncool

I work in a jewelry store. recently, since I can't sleep I've taken the time to look up interesting facts about gemstones, I figure if I have to sell them I should at least know something about them. But acording to the people I work with I'm just wasting my time doing this. They figure our job is just to convince people to buy, not educate them about what they're buying. One of my co-workers actually got mad at me for telling thier customer to keep the tanzanite piece they were buying away from high heat. It's a heat sensitive stone and if exposed to high temps for long times the color can fade. The customer was happy to find this out because she normally wears her jewelry all the time, even in the shower. Knowing this she said she'd make sure to take it off first. But my co-worker was mad because it was thier sale and felt I shouldn't have been talking to thier customer. Now fortunatly I don't give a screw if my co-workers get mad at me, but I just don't understand this mentality. If someone is spending as much money as you do on jewelry wouldn't they want to know about what thier spending that money on? Guess I'm wrong.

A Grand Slam But He Still Lost The Game (My memories and stuff)

My friend Bebe called at about 10pm on a warm summer night. I was home alone, my parents were in Canada at our cottage. I couldn't go that year due to work.
Bebe was the mother of a beautiful little girl, Annie, but had had her with a brutish lout of a man. Within a few months of her birth things between Bebe and him (lets call him Ape, it describes him well) had fallen apart and they had split. In fact she hadn't heard from him for almost 2 weeks before this night. Then out of the blue he calls her and tells he he's coming to get his little girl and if she gets in his way he'll kill her. She should have called the cops, but she freaked and didn't know what to do so she called me. Why? Because I live about 2 min away from her and since she can't drive (her Mom normally drove her places but she was afraid to call her.) she asked if I could drive her to the police station. I said yes and got dressed and headed out. What i didn't know was that Ape was already at the house. He hid when I pulled up and waited till I got to the door. As I went to ring the bell Ape moved, and he moved quick along with the baseball bat he had brought with him. I never heard him coming. His first shot from behind caught me under the right arm (the one I was using to ring the bell). It broke 2 of my ribs upon impact. His second shot was meant to cave in my head, and might have at that he was a powerful bastard, but pain and gravity worked against him. I fell to the side as he swung and the shot missed me by inches as I fell off the stairs in front of the door. I stumbled along the wall as he took his time following, which turned out to be a bad mistake by him. I was in intense pain and it hurt to breathe, so I did the only thing I could do at that point, I got mad. As he came at me again I was near a pair of sliding doors that lead out to the driveway. As anyone will tell you who has been in a fight using one, a baseball bat isn't the best of weapons unless used right. He swung it like he was trying to smash a fast ball. By aiming at my head all I had to do was crouch (which brought fresh pain from my side, but all it did was add to the adrenaline rush I was having) and the bat went well over my head and left him in a very awkward position. Using my left hand I grabbed his head and put all my wieght into pushing him at those doors. 285lbs can cause a lot of speed and power when used right. I didn't learn till later that the doors he went through face first were double reinforced sliding glass. All I knew was there was glass everywhere and he was lieing down and not moving anymore. Bebe had called the police by this time, and she had watched the end of the fight from inside the room. She rushed out to grab me, now that the adrenaline was wearing off I just about fell over on top of him. The police and an ambulance arrived, not sure how long after. I was trying to convince my body to breathe despite the pain. He still hadn't moved, but Bebe had determined he was still breathing himself.
In the end it turned out he was in a coma for about 2 days and needed 29 stiches in his face from the glass. I had 2 ribs broken, one about completly crushed. Bebe was able to move away to live with an Uncle somewhere in the midwest, and later earned complete custody of Annie. Ape was also arrested for assult with a weapon, and I was not charged due to this fact (It was ruled as self-defense). I am skipping some of the legal crap (as Alekx and Burfica will probably point out) but that about covers it.
I haven't heard from Bebe since she moved, a few years ago, but I don't blame her. I also have never seen Ape again, I was almost afraid whenever he got out he'd try looking me up. Well, maybe not afraid. Actually I almost wished he had, I could use the agression thearapy. But I don't need the hassles. I was left with 2 ribs that never healed right (Because I of course didn't take good care of them, a few weeks later I helped my Little Sis move without her knowing about my condition and she got so mad after I almost passed out after carrying her couch in and had to tell her why.) and they still hurt or feel akward if I do certain things (like prolonged lifting). I know I've rebroken them at least once, and possibly twice from the feel of the pain, but I've never gone back to a doctor about them. Just stubborn I guess.
See, a good deed never goes unpunished.