Tales From a Short Bus

What do I mean? I surely don't know!

2009-12-20T01:53:00.000-08:00

I have felt very strange lately. I feel as if something very big is about to happen. Lately I have been feeling... emotions. While at work I see cute little girls run around the movie theater like little angels and I feel emotions. I watch a SPECTACULAR film and afterwards am speechless, and I feel emotions. I want something. I'm not even sure what it is, but I want it with everything that I am.

Is it childish to want to grow up and marry a princess? A beautiful and wild princess with an untamed and indomitable spirit? I want that anyway.

Is it selfish to want to do something big and important with my life? To do something that will make people see me as a man who matters? A man who is somebody? I want that too.

Is is wrong to want to love and be loved by everyone I meet? To be bound to comrades in a common sense of trial and accomplishment? I want that.

Yesterday I wrote. When I was asked a simple question many times answered, I did not write the answer. I wrote how I felt. The poor person on the other side of the chat most likely gained nothing from the seemingly unending ramblings of the mind of Caleb. Not so on my end. There is something big coming, and I'm not going to be ready.

When will my princess come? Would she notice me if she came soon? I hope so.

When will I be given an extra-ordinary task to accomplish? Will I be found wanting when it does come? I hope not.

I feel. I like it... and I don't.

I'm still a guy

2009-11-23T23:43:00.000-08:00

I never thought out of all the people in the world I would be the one saying "there's a country song about that!" but in this case I just can't help it. As you may or may not know, I go country swing dancing once a week, so I hear my fair share of country music, and Brad Paisley's got a winner here. If you haven't heard his song, I'm still a guy, it's definitely worth a listen hear...
The reason I bring up this particular song, is because I've found that guys now days are pretty pathetic. The traditional roles in relationships are being reversed, so the guys are now the emotional, fragile, and lonley half of the relationship. Now before you get your panties in a wad, ladies, I mean no disrespect by this comment. I merely wish to convey the traditional views and to point out the inherent differences between men and women. The problem with this line of thought though, is that the world is changing. It is becoming harder and harder to define the female race as the emotional one, because men have somehow managed to emasculate themselves.
Now, why do I bring this up? How does it effect me? Directly, it really doesn't. But it's EMBARRASSING!!!! Men, acting like women! That's just not right... I don't anticipate that women will stop liking manly men, but it could happen. Then what will I do?
So to all those men out there who let the women wear the pants: Grow a pair! Quit being such a pantywaist, embrace the testosterone running through your veins and be a man!

Never good enough...

2009-11-13T06:57:00.000-08:00

No, I'm not talking about girls, I'm actually talking about myself (I know, that's hard to believe...). I just finished taking a PT test for ROTC which consists of how many pushups you can do in 2 min, situps in 2 min, and a 2 mile run. now, I do ok, I finished my 2 mile run in 2nd place and managed to get 65 pushups and 66 situps, but for some reason, for me that's just not good enough. I never thought of myself as a perfectionist, and for most things I'm not. Take schoolwork for instance, I could car less about alot of it, I'll write a paper in red crayon if I have to. Other areas of my life however I have found that I am quite obsessive about getting everything done right. Working out is one of those areas, no matter what I do, I always want to do better. Sure I ran 2 miles in 14:32, a personal best for me, but I'm still not happy with that. It's too bad really, that I can't be happy with mediocrity... So despite my reasonably good score on my PT test I am currently formulating ways to improve my score and get in better shape. So until I stop feeling like this:
and start feeling more like this:
I plan on pretty much killing myself to get in shape. My own personal goal is to become my own version of leonidis. "Never retreat, never surrender"

Getting old...

2009-11-05T20:55:00.000-08:00

I just know that I'm going to be rebuked by everyone over the age of 25 for this post, but since speaking my mind is one of my horribly annoying skills, here it goes. I used to make fun of all my older siblings when they would tell me not to call past 9, because that was when they went beddie bye, but I find myself now turning in earlier and earlier. My standing self imposed curfew this semester has been 10:30. Now while that might not sound incredibly early for some of you fogies, it sounds early to me: a spry young college student running amuck amidst the plethora of college activities and fun seeking peers...
As if going to bed early wasn't bad enough, I have somehow managed to commit social suicide and ceased to function outside of school, work and homework. I still manage to find a few minutes here and there to veg in front of the TV now and then, the key word being 'veg' (veg: to assume a posture where no muscles are utilized and the brain enters a vegetative state.). I recently talked to a former friend who has also commited social suicide, her removal from the social pool is due to her aquirement of a semi-posessive boy toy who now occupies ALL her time. Although she has severed all former social connections, she, at least has a significant other to spend her anti-social time with. I, on the other hand have seen fit to fill my social sobatical with copious amounts of work. I have no witness to my madness, just a variety of textbooks and a never ending list of assignments formulated to waste my time while teaching me absolutely nothing. Isn't school great?
Now I did point out that this was all self imposed, and I will admit to that, but really how much of a choice do I really have? I spend all my active brain power on improving my grades yet still manage to secure 3 C's. Is this because I'm not really as smart as I think I am? Probably. Or it could have something to do with all the asinine assignments systematically designed to drive me out of my mind.
I no longer have any fun, I find it harder and harder to find energy to actually get out and do stuff and I have commited social suicide. If those aren't signs of getting old I don't know what is. I turn 26 in a month and a half. It's not so much the number that bothers me, but the knowledge that the older I get, the more responsibility I get and the less energy and time I'll have to accomplish it all.
As I write this, I am watching the clock get closer and closer to 10:30 and I know that if I don't finish up quick, I'm going to regret it tomorow morning at 5:30 when I get up. Maybe one of these days I'll try and get my life back, but I suppose it'll have to wait till I get out of this hellish nightmare called college. In the meantime I guess I just have to sacrifice my youth and sanity for a few good grades and the hope of a future career in my chosen field. Getting old sucks.

...Close your eyes and sleep my child...

2009-10-29T16:33:00.000-07:00

I, after many failures, finally managed to get to bed on time last night. This is no easy task to be sure; However I feel so much better and more productive that it may just be worth it. I hereby proclaim that 12:00 midnight will be my new bedtime on the weekdays, Saturday, and Sunday (basically everyday except Friday. Which then begs the question, "does that mean I don't have to go to bed on time on Thursdays too?" I have no classes on Friday, thus upgrading my Thursday into a Friday, and my Friday into a Saturday, gifting me with 2 blessed Saturdays). If that is the case then Maybe I shouldn't have to go to bed on time on Sunday or Tuesday either since I don't have classes those days until 1700 hours. I know, I know. I'm really trying to get a job. I now have 10 applications in and will call every last one of them tomorrow to demand to know why on earth they haven't hired me yet. In the mean time though, I am up to level 41 on Call of Duty and recently played some of my best games receiving scores such as: 23/7 (kills/deaths), 22/12, and 18/10*. Maybe I could put some of those on my resume, just to show them that I mean business. So, in summary: I will go to bed on time every single day, except Tuesday, Thursday (my Friday), Friday (my first Saturday) and Sunday. I feel so much better about myself now.
Speaking of Myself... I am now in the market for a new pair of spectacles. I have gone for quite a while with only contacts and find myself wearing them to bed more often than not. This causes my eyes to be quite dry in the mornings and I can't imagine it is good for them either. So the decision was made to purchase some glasses to wear while I'm just Chillaxin in the mornings and Evenings, and also on Tuesday, My Friday, My first Saturday, and Sunday. I prognosticate that this will greatly increase the overall happiness of my eyeballs. Maybe even allowing me to get such scores as 30/5, or 22/2. *sigh* oh college... what a horrible and unhealthy existence.

*Only the first mentioned score is confirmed- other scores are not exact numbers and in fact may or may not be complete lies...

Geek Factor=Happy Factor

2009-10-21T10:13:00.000-07:00

Unlike Rider #1, I feel happiness comes from your geek factor. Perhaps the term geek factor is a little vague; let me clarify.

Tuesday night; I am sitting on the couch watching Dancing with the Stars as a favor to my wife. She hates watching it alone. As a good husband, I watch it with her; however, cognitively, I am in another world. “Artimis Fowl: He met Opal in the past--so why didn’t she recognize him? I know he has another book coming out, perhaps he explains it there. Anime is so much better than this. I am so glad Castle airs after this show. My wife looks so cute when she enjoys her shows. I wonder if she will like it when I get my Mythbuntu system set up so that she can record whatever she wants, or pause live TV to take care of the kids during the day. I bet I can even pipe it out to the garage; all it would take is drilling one hole-----WHAT!!!!!!! Did the host on Dancing with the Stars just tell that guy his wig looked like a TRIBBLE?!!?!?!?” That last comment drew a concerned look from my wife, which confused me until I realized I had said it out loud.

Asking her if she had heard what I said just caused more consternation. I thought she hadn’t heard me through my peals of laughter, but when I asked again after my fit of hysteria subsided I received the same response. She had NO idea what I was talking about and insisted I explain it on the next commercial break.

I reveled in the jumble of wonderful, useless, made-up facts that the word brought up in my mind. From Dr. McCoy: their purpose in life is to eat and give birth; they do both extremely well. Born pregnant. Ate all the grain. I postulated yet again how a creature of that design would affect a stoic biosphere such as a spaceship. I remembered that this creature made such a lasting impact that the new Star Trek movie released in the year 2009 featured a Tribble. I giggled to myself, still geeking out about it, drawing a “Shhhhh” from my wife.

The original Star Trek series epitomizes geekdom; it was the rise of the geek, and here it is being used as a reference on a show teeming with pop culture, the latest fashion, as well as a fan base that is mostly females which were born decades after this creature was introduced to the world by Gene Rodenberry. When I tried to explain this to my wife, she didn’t get it. I watched her expectantly, trying to contain my own bursts of mirth--all I got was “and...?” Realizing that I was one of about 100 people watching the show that got it just added to my revelry.

Tribbles are just one example out of many. Your amount of happiness you derive from such experiences, and how many you can have, depends on your geek factor. The geekier you are the more you see. The geekier you are the more humorous connections you make. Thus, happiness comes from being truly geeky and flaunting it, even in the unlikeliest places.

Hum your favorite hymn

2009-10-20T00:58:00.000-07:00

I love Oreo's. I love Bacon. I love cars. These things make me normal. What may not be normal is my love of the failure of others. The other day I watched someone kill over 700 simulated people causing him to fail a test that is 50% of the grade for the entire course... *smile*. I witnessed a girl lose it during that same performance evaluation running from the radar lab and futilely attempting to stem the uncontrollable sobs of hysterical howling misery... *happiness*. This supports my anomalous factor... or does it?

This is an interesting psychological phenomenon. It does however provide convincing evidence of the truthfulness of my theory of life: Happiness is a desirable commodity, and like any other commodity you must gain it by appropriating it from one who possesses it already. Of course there are also ways of concocting happiness. This is done by adhering to happiness protocols found in happy places such as Church, Electronics stores, and carnivals. Another manafestation of these principles is the well known fact that insecure/unhappy people make fun of others; they do it in order to procure happiness that is not originally theirs. While this strategy is sometimes frowned upon by others "quicker, easier... more seductive it is." -Yoda

I would have to say that lately my ratio of production vs. pillage is about 50/50. I was finally able to get my truck running again by replacing the starter- 1 point light side. A crying girl made me smile- 2 points dark side. I have been putting increased effort into the successful magnification of my calling- 2 points light side. I watched this video 10 times and laughed hysterically each and every time (http://www.snotr.com/video/3157) - 1 point dark side. I ate bacon, I ridiculed a small boy... I'm sure you get the point (no pun intended), the battle is constant. Which is better? Light or Dark? This war is fought every day on multiple fronts, the hum of lightsabe... uh... the hum of happy children echoes over the battlefield. But what makes the happy humans hum?
Honestly, I don't care. I just like being happy whether I made it or stole it... it's mine now!

What does it mean to be American.

2009-02-20T10:40:00.001-08:00

I sit next to Jon Eldredge in my #2 class, by #2 I mean my 2nd most boring class. This can be proven by examining the in-class activities of various class members during class. For example: Firstly I am in class now...
Second, As I glance to my left... Yup I see the familiar variety of firearms displayed on the Laptop of Jon Eldredge. Today it is the Taurus 1911, she is a beauty, the epitome of everything America stands for. What DOES America stand for you may ask? What an astute question. First of all any TRUE American wouldn't have to even ask. Just examine your Yankee self: when you see someone with a faster car than you what do you want? That is what it means to be American. When you watch a Rambo blow away the last bad guy and get the girl too what do YOU want to do? That is all-American baby! When the 2nd Grader sitting next to you named Alexandra has bigger scissors than you and loves rubbing it in what do you want to do? Although in some cases it may result in getting suspended from school for bringing scissors so large they are considered lethal weapons to school, it is what we are all about here in The U-S of A! Doing it bigger, better, and faster than the other guy. This requires bigger, better, and badder toys.
And that's not all, this only leads into what America is all about. A few nights ago family was locked into battle. A "Bloodbath" if you will. A free-for-all, Zerg vs. Protoss vs. Terran. I couldn't help myself. Whenever I had the opportunity to obliterate enemy forces I just had to jump in there. It wasn't until after someone quit in frustration that I realized... maybe I should have held back. I would like to think that had I thought of this earlier I would have allowed a few notable victories for my beleaguered oponents, but thoughts like those are likened to cheesy products like the sham-WOW, everyone knows they exist, but no-one really cares. The point is this: America likes winning. What do we like winning? I don't understand the question.
Every "American" activity that we enjoy boils down to winning. We like baseball? NO! We like WINNING in Baseball! Why do you think soccer has never become popular in America? Sledding? Last time I went sledding it almost broke my coxyx- 19' 6" baby! I tied the jump record! Next time you find yourself enjoying an activity stop and think, is this because I'm winning? or for another reason. I don't know what that reason would be, but I'm going on the assumption that there are people out there who enjoy other things- I really have no idea what. As for me, I'm all-American baby!

I love having the best toys! I live winning! I LOVE AMERICA!!!

What'd I do?

2009-02-05T08:53:00.000-08:00

Men are simple creatures. We know that female is the opposite of male, and we see the evidence of that every day in almost all facets of our lives. It's sad, really, how well women understand us and how little we know about them... It's obvious that women understand men a lot better than we understand them. I mean, have you ever heard of a guy getting up and stomping off with the girl sitting on the couch yelling after him, "What'd I do?" Yeah, I didn't think so.

As much as I'd like to say that I wish women came with a manual on how to understand them, we all know that men never read manuals. They just keep plugging stuff in until something works. This is how we view life in general. If you tell a guy they can't do something, you're guaranteed that they will stop at nothing to prove you wrong(this doesn't apply to cleaning, leaving the toilet seat down, or any other useful activities).

Even though women understand us, they like to pretend that we're a lot more complicated than we really are. For instance they like to ask us, "what are you thinking about?" For those of you who really don't know what men think about, there is only a short list to choose from: 1. we're thinking about food. We're always hungry, and even when we're not, that doesn't mean we don't want to eat. Just remember, the way to a man's heart is through his stomach... 2. violence. you see it all the time: sports, video games, friendly neighborhood killer wrestling deathmatches... Keep your flowers and scrapbooking, if you want to make a guy happy get him something violent. 3. Sex. If you didn't see that one coming, you're a... well, you should have seen it coming.

Now, there is a 4th option that never really gets mentioned. And I would argue that this is what guys think about at least 90% of the time: NOTHING. We're not thinking about anything! We're too lazy to spend all that time and energy thinking about stuff. I'm pretty sure you can't argue this one girls, and even if you could, why would you?

Which brings me back to my original point. Us guys don't even know what's up until the girl stomps off yelling at us, which finally kicks our brains in gear as we scramble to figure out what our hainus offence really was.

Guys don't get offended. And even if they do, after a few harsh words(or blows) things are back to normal. It's hard for guys to remember that they have to treat (and talk to) women vastly different than normal people(ie guys).

So in conclusion, let me appologize in advance for the whole male race, we don't know what we did, but I'm sure you can think of something. Women: don't be offended by anything that comes out of our mouth(or any other orifice), we didn't mean to offend you.

It's hard to be lazy!

2009-01-26T12:38:00.000-08:00

Unlike the White lancer, I do not suffer from multiple personalities. Of course, maybe I would get more done if I had 2 other alter egos to share my work load... I, unfortunately, only have 'Busy Stephen'. There might have been more at some time, but 'Busy Stephen' most likely ate them while they were still in the womb.

Although I label myself a lazy person, 'Busy Stephen' tends to fill all my available time with various activities of differing enjoyment. For example: to be a full time student, one must take a minimum of 12 credits. For reasons unknown even to me, 'Busy Stephen' has decided to rise above the mediocrity of the masses, and shoot for a unfathomable 19 credits! Why you may ask?
("I wouldn't ask that.") that's good, cuz I don't know.

As busy as a person would be taking 19 credits, 'Busy Stephen' could never stop there. there is still unscheduled time that, of course, must be filled up with something. Enter Job #1. I work approximately 30 hours a week in the Machines Room. This is a kind of store room for teachers here on campus; I keep it running. I stock shelves, I help people with the behemoth we call a copier(approx. 7' long, with enough options to make a slide rule look like an abacus), and anything else my kind, lovely, generous and overwhelmingly gracious boss tells me to do.
Enter Job #2. Again, 'Busy Stephen' can still see several moments of my week that are not yet full, so a second job is procured: teaching gymnastics. In this job, I calmly and patiently try to teach a whole class of hyperactive children how to be rambunctious in a safe manner... I teach them how to scare their moms by flipping through the air and jumping off a variety of objects. Now, that's not technically what I teach them, but it should help you understand what the end result is.

I know that this sounds like a lot, but believe it or not, 'Busy Stephen's' only desire is to fill every minute of my schedule, so what did he do you may ask?("I wouldn't ask that.") He found several other activities to occupy my time, like: buying an '86 VW Jetta to work on, helping my friends log on the weekends, volunteering my extremely masculine self to help with a local ballet troupe, and going swing dancing every week. you know how it is... any ways, in the midst of all this, I find time to do my daily homework and study for upcoming tests(wink wink).

After all this, you would think that 'Busy Stephen' would lay off for a while, you know, figure a job well done now that there are no more things he could possibly cram into my schedule... But as all Martens know: a job worth doing, is worth doing well. So... He manages to shoe horn in a few more things, like starting up a barbershop quartet, and getting me nominated for the president of a club here on campus, and getting put in charge of the Winter Formal dance.

I really am a lazy person, but 'Busy Stephen' just never lets up! As a fellow conspirator once told me: "I never have any time when I'm with you!" It's true. 'Busy Stephen' never sleeps, and he never lets up, no matter where I am. I've learned to get a sick kind of enjoyment from my hazardous schedule, but concluded that one day, 'Busy Stephen' will end my ninja-like existence with the ever increasing ferocity of his planning. But knowing that while I am young and can still take it, I say "bring it!" I'm not old yet...

You've got better things to do?

2008-12-10T11:29:00.000-08:00

Most assuredly there are people who have better things to do- My writing here however, is evidence that I am not numbered among those blessed/unfortunate souls. The best thing that I have to do right now just happens to be the thing I least want to do in life... Homework.

I remember fondly the buddings of each new semester- where a "new" Caleb optimistically registers for a plethora of classes that will push him to excellence. This Beginning of the Semester Caleb very readily commits all of Middle of the Semester Caleb's time and whenever Middle of the Semester Caleb slacks off- he assures himself that End of the Semester Caleb is all powerful and can accomplish any task no matter how little time he has allotted. After all End of the Semester Caleb IS all powerful- and can turn any grade into a passing one... What a stud!

I guess there is evidence of these three personalities in all of my relationships too. Except the stud among the relationship Caleb's is found in the Beginning of the Relationship Caleb. It remains an inexplicable miracle that despite the scanty resources to draw from, Beginning of the Relationship Caleb manages to capture the interest and steal the hearts of many an unwitting maiden. Middle of the Relationship Caleb simply has to have fun to draw them further in, until inevitably End of the Relationship Caleb AKA "Bruiser" swoops down. Bruiser lives off the hearts of these poor innocent beauties (similar to how I live off of bacon) by simply informing them that Beginning and Middle of Relationship Caleb didn't mean that they wanted a serious relationship- or maybe they did, but End of the Relationship Caleb convinced them otherwise (he can be very persuasive). Only one has ever seemed to satisfy End of Relationship Caleb, one who craftily sidestepped this Bruiser by cutting it off scarcely after Beginning of Relationship Caleb. This mysterious and wondrous maiden will remain cloaked in secrecy as the only one who has bested the beastly End of Relationship Caleb... *sigh*... someday...

I've got better things to do...

2008-12-02T22:35:00.000-08:00

It always amazes me how people rationalize things in their lives. Please, as you read this post, do not assume that I am leaving myself out of this ginormous generalization. On the contrary, I am the entire inspiration for this little blurb on excuses.
Take for example, homework: As this blog is being created, an english paper is figuratively collecting dust in my "My Documents" folder on my desktop... I don't really have anything else to do, but instead of finishing it up like I should, I'm blogging and writing people on Instant Messenger. I could have written it earlier today, but I was too busy watching the latest episode of "Heroes"(which is so good, yet so incredibly frustrating!), and distracting myself with a rather good looking girl(which is so good, yet so incredibly frustrating!). I could have written it yesterday, but instead I decided to make a late night run to McDonalds to load up on the artery-clogging-goodness found there. I could have written it over thanksgiving weekend while I was sitting in my dorm for 4 days straight, but instead I played computer games, slept, and just sat around getting fat.
As you can see, I can take the most innocent of activities and twist them to my advantage. I can make the most unassuming boredom seem like a desperate necesity that cannot wait another 5 minutes! It's a talent really. I of course share this talent with many other people; most of which I would venture to say are guys. This phenomenon knows no bounds, its influence reaches far beyond the realms of mere schoolwork, and is found in nearly every facet of my life.
I go so far, that I rationalize my rationalization, saying: "I work better under pressure"(which may or may not be true).
Other things we rationalize can include excuses like: "I was just having fun..." "I didn't want to date her anyways..." "I've still got a couple more hours..." "I can always change tomorrow..." and my personal favorite: "It wasn't me, it was the testosterone!" There are many other excuses that we use, the list is really endless, and we each have our own favorites.
Which brings me to my final point: Most things we rationalize don't matter much. I already know that my english paper will spend another 3 glorious days relaxing in my"My Documents" folder; But come thursday night/friday morning, it will emerge from its homework cocoon as a beautiful majestic and miraculous work of art.
Other things in our life have a bigger effect than pleasing our pathetic excuse for an english teacher. I will not expound on this, for every one has their own el guapo, for some it may be sticking with something out of confusion or lack of options, for others it might be an irrational concern for one's safety, for others it could be an intolerable fury when things get frustrating. For me: I just happen to be the real el guapo...

Christmas is coming and I'm getting fat!

2008-12-01T11:13:00.000-08:00

I have recently uncovered the secret to unparalleled satisfaction in gift giving!
Getting what you want for Christmas creates wonderful feelings of delight deep within the soul. It is only natural that one feel the need to help others to feel those same delightful sensations. The curious manifestation of of these truths is seen in the desire to give what makes US feel warm and fuzzy. We must discover that one and only gift that not only lights the fires of desire in the receiver but also lights those same fires in our own hearts. Let me give you a shining example from my own life:

I was recently faced with an almost insurmountable task of purchasing the perfect present for the eldest of the Marten offspring. Had I instead been assigned to give to a more... feminine family member I would be forced to remove "almost" from the previous sentence. Anyway... I quickly ruled out everything that I wasn't either planning to get, or already splurged on. A 1080p flat screen lasted only until I was reminded of my diminished financial status, and seriously if I could afford one I would already have one. Other extravagant gifts entered my mind... a '79 Trans am? a puppy? An official Red Ryder carbine action two-hundred shot range model air rifle with a compass in the stock? It all passed quickly through the vast recesses of my seldom utilized cranium. Then I knew what I wanted (Wanted to GIVE that is). My mind was drawn back in time to the irresistible urge to purchase on of my own not long ago. The old feeling of warmth and satisfaction lit the fires in my heart as I imagined another receiving those same feelings. Only I could light those fires! It was my calling! My duty! My destiny!

This Christmas give the gift that lights your fire! (and hopefully the fire of the receiver as well)
MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL!!! And happy giving!

Talents (a work in progress)

2008-11-20T23:05:00.000-08:00

I have a really boring job, the kind that robots will be doing soon. My work consists of sitting in a small room with approximately 7 computers, over 28 TV monitors, a microphone that goes anywhere in the building I want, and ONE chair. A chair that I sit in for up to 5 hours, with about that many minutes of work to accomplish. That generally leaves me with 4 hours and 55 minutes of time to do whatever I want... EXCEPT leave that chair.

Point: from this command chair I tap into the source of all knowledge, the never-ending fountain of excitement, the number one way people share their talents that they are too embarrassed to do in public (which is very ironic)... YOUTUBE!!! I learn of magical far away places... an adverse side affect of youtube is that they make everything seem as if any "Joe Blow" could do it. To my own disappointment and shame I have discovered that I cannot fit my entire body through the head of a tennis racket, I cannot jump my bike over 20 midgets, and I cannot eat 47 Twinkies while standing on my head and balancing on a yoga ball!

I occasionally wallow in the pit of loathing and self-doubt due to the embarrassing truth that I may not have any productive talents to match these amazing feats of... well feats! Just when I think all is lost I remember my signature party trick! Do you want to see me take a quarter out of my nose? or perhaps if presented with a frozen pea, I will amaze you yet again with my patented hands-free loading system* for the nose pea shooter. Perhaps other youtube worthy talents lurk beneath my otherwise bland exterior! This startling realization has spurned me to embark on an holy quest! Not a quest for gold or riches, rather a quest for talent! Every few weeks I shall search for a new skill- what will it be? Could it be interior design? Gardening? Maybe something more masculine such as bleeding? Flying? Where else can I hide a quarter? I will never stop, I will not cease for an instant until every last talent shall be revealed!

*This amazing process is accomplished by inserting one or more peas into the oral cavity where it is transported up to the nose by way of the tongue. The tongue is then used to block the unloaded nostril and air is violently expelled from the nose resulting in startling initial velocities and an impressive lethal range. (any hernias or other physical or psychological damage resulting from attempting this process is not the responsibility of the short bus- see "the crippling truth" wednesday Nov. 12, 2008)

Women...

2008-11-19T12:24:00.000-08:00

Have you ever watched Dawson's Creek? OC? One Tree Hill? If you're a guy, the answer better be no. No self respecting guy would voluntarily subject himself to the torture of attempting to follow the drama that so many females in our country find enjoyable. Now, my aim is not to ridicule women for their taste in daytime television, but rather to try and point out some of the differences between testosterone filled men, and their estrogen infused counterparts.
Whether or not they will admit it or not, women thrive on drama. Now I know if you're a woman reading this you're probably shaking your head thinking: "I do not! Maybe other girls, but not me!"... uh huh... Now if you're a guy reading this(as long as your significant other isn't in the room) you're probably nodding your head in unabashed agreement.
The term "Drama" has a stigma about it that all women try to avoid(at least that's what they'll tell you), but the truth of it is that drama, as guys define it, has more to do with the way women think than with any funky love triangle with rico suave and his two gorgeous bimbos that always seem to be fighting over him. As I(a man among men) see it, when a woman spends more than a smattering of seconds trying to figure out the hidden meaning behind a one syllable answer given by a man, that is the definition of drama. Women have the unique ability to divine, out of totally innocent comments, compex hidden meanings that we, as men collectively, could not dream up.
To quote a favorite movie of mine:(Get Smart 2008) Woman: "do you ever think before you speak? Man: "nope. I just whip it out there." This pretty much sums up a guys thinking process before he opens his mouth. Maybe it's the testosterone, maybe it's something else(Me? I like to blame my abundance of testosterone), but whatever the reason, women: don't judge your man too harshly because he doesn't pick up your subtle hints, or doesn't follow your dizzyingly complex train of thought, he's a guy. We don't do complex.
What better way to drive this point home, than to give an example. Since I know that at least a couple of women are going to read this post at some point, I have for health reasons, decided NOT to use my own personal experiences(of which I have a plethora of examples to choose from). The following story(given me by my boss, a woman) should illustrate my point nicely: http://homepage.eircom.net/%257Eodyssey/Quotes/Modern_World/Dbr.html

*Disclaimer: The phrase "Bros before Hoes" should not be taken as a personal affront by women. It in no way implies that the woman or women in question have a questionable nature, but only refers to the camaraderie felt towards a fellow man, and the need to have another testosterone driven individual around.

Why I Don't Shop at Walmart

2008-11-17T19:55:00.000-08:00

First, and foremost, because this is America, and I can shop wherever I want to. Second, I dislike paying businesses to line the pockets of other nations just to save $1.50. Perhaps, the most important reason is that I don't like waiting in lines; I don't like large parking lots; I don't like feeling cramped while I shop; I don't like their whole take-over-the-world-one-business-at-a-time model. More than likely, the reason I don't shop there is that everyone else does. Moral of the story? Don't be a lemming. Make the world a better place. Don't shop at Walmart. Support domestic products. Watch this movie.

Raging Hormones?

2008-11-14T11:07:00.000-08:00

Last night I didn't get much sleep... what else is new? Like so many things in my life- I tend to try too hard. Now before you can't focus because you are laughing so hard let me explain. Words in the Malagasy language are so simple, they can be broken down into really simple terms. For example: filazantsara is the gospel, and literally translated it is "good news", there are no funky Latin roots, but simple everyday Malagasy. I don't think that there is a Malagasy word for Hormones, but if there were it would be something like "fampadalian-dehilahy" , literally translated "a thing that makes men crazy".

I stayed up until like 1:20 AM last night talking to a beautiful girl on the phone; could I have stopped the conversation at 12:00 when it was still just a normal 15 minute phone call? Of course I could! But I didn't even want to! That's the Maha-mampadala an-azy (too hard to translate... help please fellow Malagasy speakers?), I actually enjoyed it! Every joke, each and every anecdote, and... ok, well listening to her explain how all these guys were fawning all over her was kind of tedious, but everything else was amazingly enjoyable. Thank you Testosterone, for making me late to class this morning.

Anyway... my apartment is dirty. You may think that you know what I mean, but I assure you you do not. I sadly decided to wash my bike inside in my kitchen and shower. I felt like Kramer from Seinfeld washing his dishes in the shower... hmmm, I might try that. Back to my original point- there is mud caked on every inch of my floor, and my sink and shower have about 1 inch of dirt, grass, and gravel in them. Thanks again Testosterone for making me go trail riding in 3 inches of mud. BUT I LIKED IT! It's like the man dying of emphysema that still wants a cigarette. I ENJOYED EVERY SCINTILLATING SECOND!!!

On a totally separate note- I would like to take this opportunity to announce my endorsement of Rider #3's words of wisdom regarding helmets. I myself have recently purchased a helmet of enormous proportions. Not only does this helmet protect my semi-valuable melon, but also my extremely valuable and abnormally large nose!

You see depicted here not only a helmet, but a Lady magnet! I can't go anywhere with this baby on without people staring in awe at the sheer beauty of the thing. The amount of double takes alone is staggering, they can't keep their little eyes off me as I ride proudly around town. Helmets are as wonderful as they are beautiful.

Now you know all of the exciting things that have befallen me so far in this magical land known as... North Dakota.

Protection For Your Head

2008-11-12T21:00:00.000-08:00

While riders #1 and #2 wax on and on about the mysteries of life that can probably never be known, I will fill your mind with the known. There are facts of life that are so obvious that most people have either forgotten, or have heard it so often they forget that it is still relevant to their lives.

Let us take, for example, wearing a helmet. Ever been walking along only to run into a pole. You are not alone, and even better--there is a solution. The knowledge that man's skull is vulnerable has been known for centuries, yet is undermined by current cliche phrases, such as: "Bonehead," "Numbskull," "Blockhead," and "Can we get anything through that thick skull of yours?" The facts are not debated; in fact, to preserve lives helmets are REQUIRED in many dangerous sports, combat, and various other activities. The question is not "Should people wear helmets?" But rather, "Why in the world would organizations have to REQUIRE people to wear a helmet when death lerks suripticiously around every corner, in every second of the activity, and even on the sidelines?"

I will tell you why. Most rules come from the same place; someone has tried it, and that someone died doing it. Which means that someone has tried to fence without a helmet, and had a foil shoved through his eye. It means that someone tried to whitewater raft without a helmet, and dashed their brains out on a rock when they were thrown from the raft. It means that for almost every dangerous sport some fat-boy has decided that his brain isn't worth protecting; the only thing that could prevent him from being kept alive. Humanity has machines to replicate all other body functions, but the brain we have yet to replace. So, if you are out riding your four-wheeler and you shatter your arm, no big deal--painful, but repairable. Without your helemt that shattered bone could easily have been your head.

Because you never know when calamity might strike, helmets are a great accessory to any outfit, for any occasion. Convieniently for me (since I only have one outfit) mine always matches what I wear.Helmets are time proven, and guarenteed to increase your odds with death. Wear a helmet; cheat death. WEAR IT!

The Crippling Truth*

2008-11-12T11:25:00.000-08:00

Whoever wrote "The truth shall set you free" was full of... well, he didn't know what he was talking about. Normal people, like Rider #1 and myself, we know that lying is a lot more fun, can get you out of trouble, and will generally let you get ahead in life.
Many falacies are found within the english language, perpetuated by delusional individuals who are most probably socially retarded. The kind of individuals that turn down dates to sit in their room and study quantum mechanics... for fun.
Some of the many falsehoods circulating can include the following: "What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger" have you ever been folded into a pretzel by one of your loving siblings?,or "Leave nothing for tomorrow which can be done today" Please... that doesn't even make any sense.
I, Rider #2 and my insanely handsome brother have created this blog to divulge our endless supply of knowledge and wonderful insights to those not blessed with our supperior intelect and sharp wit. The writings that will most assuredly be writ will astound you, amaze you, teach you, but most probably just flabergast, and confuse you. Just remember: Incredulity is for the weak. Enjoy.

*Rider #1 and #2 are not held responsible for any neurological, psycholigical, or other such health problems following the reading this blog.

Prognosis

2008-11-11T21:30:00.000-08:00

A man once sat in a small room. I was that man. And yes, I am now seated in that small room. If an emotion commonly referred to as "surprise" comes to you as a result of the reading the previous comment, then perhaps you should cease all reading activity as soon as possible.
I, Rider #1 hereby prognosticate that the glorious writings on this blog will change you life forever. You will laugh. You will cry. However, most often you will simply shake your head and utter the infamous word "why?"
Though I am not a beautiful man, (that would just be wrong. I am instead an insanely handsome man! This sentence better conveys my rugged and manly qualities) I do love beautiful women. This brings me to today's topic: Women...

I have now divulged every ounce of my boundless insight on the female psyche.
You may, with confidence, expect many more posts full of such in sight as that mentioned above... this post though is only a humble prognostication and a introduction to the many magical posts that will most assuredly follow shortly after.
-Good readings!