Thursday, February 28, 2008

from the tour bus


The tour guide would pause oddly and say things like: "They evacuated the whole island of 5,000 people and no one was harmed however some people suffered economic hardships because when they returned their home was under lava."

When I tested the first bit of video I could not hear the guide too well so on the next bit of video I aimed the camera at the closest speaker, which was over and just behind my head and that is why you get to look up my nose for a while.

The cat bit is just me trying to take a regular photo and screwing it up.

Nice Woolen Gloves

We bought tickets to the Northern Lights Tour for 3900 kr which is about $60 in the US. The brochure states that “The Aurora Borealis or Northern Lights is undoubtedly one of the most spectacular, beautiful and enchanting of nature’s phenomena. To look skywards on crisp, clear night and see these giant curtains of colored lights weaving and swaying, gliding and flowing gracefully across the northerly heavens is pure magic.” It sounded great and despite my trips to Vermont were the Northern Lights can sometimes be seen, I had never laid eyes of this heavenly wonder so we bought tickets.

We actually missed the bus at the hotel so the ticket agent at the hotel got us a cab to meet up with the bus at the main terminal. The bus was packed just like the other three. The previous nights tour had been canceled due to poor visibility so I’m sure the tour was more crowded than usual.

When ever seat was filled, the guide asked if everybody had a ticket and that if you didn’t have a ticket to go buy one.No one moved so I assumed everyone had a ticket so I thought he was wasting his time when he asked again and again no one moved. I just shook my head when he asked the third time but sure enough two jackasses in the back stood up and when inside to buy tickets. The guide started checking tickets once those guys got off the bus. I don’t know why he didn’t just start with checking for tickets to find out who didn’t have one but I don’t pretend to know everything.

Once it was confirmed that everyone at least had some sort of written proof of a ticket we drove out of the city and around various places looking towards the sky; and that when I realized that the Northern Lights are free for the looking at and that this ‘Tour’ must be a huge monetary windfall for the bus company.

The night was overcast a bit and there were also patches of fog in between snow showers but we did manage to find a spot where the sky was clear so they pulled the four buses over so everyone could get off and stare upwards. Before we left the bus, the guide told us that we would be staying there for about forty-five minutes and to make sure we got back on bus number 308.

There must have been close to two hundred people standing on the snow covered shoulder to some roadway right off of the highway trying to capture the Northern Lights but what they accomplished was a mini light show of their own because at least half of all the cameras had their flashes going off.

When I looked up what I saw looked like nothing stated in the brochure I guess sometimes the Northern Lights look a lot like cloud cover of a gray color that just sit there doing nothing.

I got back on the bus after fifteen minutes, most people didn’t last past twenty but we stayed the whole forty five minutes. The guide told us that what we had just witnessed was a pretty good display of the Northern Lights. I was skeptical of it being a good display.

Before we started moving the guide told us that someone had dropped a pair of gloves and he held them up for the whole bus to see.

“Someone dropped these woolen gloves, so if these are your gloves, please let me know.”

Nobody said anything.

“These are nice woolen gloves. They are gray woolen gloves which someone dropped before we got off the bus, please check to make sure you have your gloves.”

Again there was silence.

“These are very nice gloves. I don’t know why someone wouldn’t want them back. They are gray woolen gloves with black diamond shapes.”

Silence, again.

“I found them right about here,” he said as he walked to not quite half way down the bus holding one gray woolen glove in each of his hands. “Someone must have dropped them. They were not here before,” he said as he continued to walk with the glove to the back of the bus, to make certain everyone could see the nice woolen gloves.

He pleaded once again for the owner of the gloves to make themselves known once he got back to the front, so Annette leaned over to me and said “Please, just say that they are your gloves so we can get moving.”

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Here are the photos

here is the photo gallery

I'm back

So, I'm back.

I left the airport at 5:30PM and was flying over Boston at 5:23PM and due to air traffic didn't land until 6:00PM. If we had landed without delays: I would have time traveled to the future.

So thanks a lot Logan International Airport, you ruined my whole life.

Passing through customs...

"Why were you in Iceland?"

"Vacation."

"How long were you there?"

'Oh, shit,' I said to myself. I left Boston on Saturday but got to Iceland on Sunday how precise do I have to be? I further thought, 'Does he want to know the actual days I was away? Just say something because the delay is too suspicious.'

"Three days and two nights," finally came out of my mouth tinged with a little doubt.

"And did you buy anything?"

"Just souvenirs," I said as he flipped my form of declared items over which read 'gifts,' so I explained that I wrote 'gifts' because I didn't know who to spell 'souvenirs.'

"Yeah, you and me both. Go ahead."

Monday, February 25, 2008

I´m in the lobby and I have ´Sink Pissers Unite !!!´screaming across the top of my screen

I guess the posts get time stamped in EST because it´s past 7AM here.

Oh, and everything is military time. Anything past eight o´clock at night and I have to do math mostly because I´m slightly retarded.

and comments don´t work, so your own your own but I will try to hit everyone up on my sidebar with a hit from Iceland. So if you see it, that was me.

Why the heck would I blog from Iceland

and I guess Iceland doesn´t like the blogger interface.

The keyboards are different here because they have to fit in extra keys for all the crazy extra letters they have.

I think I was up for thirty six hours straight, I have the math worked out in my notebook.

Why would I blog from Iceland. (I´ll be damned if I can find a question mark. It´s a whole new world) Anyway, the answer is to give Lady G some privacy in the room.

I didn´t sleep too well. I imagine it´s due to the five hour difference but I thought the lack of sleep would over-ride that.

Anyway, after about a four and a half hour flight, we landed at about 6:04 in the morning and got to the hotel at about 8:20 and by the time we ate breakfast we would be late for all the good tours so we decided to go horse back riding through lava fields. The pictures are great, wait to you see the get-ups we had to wear (it was snowing when we started).

The exchange rate is one U.S. dollar equals 67 of theirs.

{I just checked to make certain this would post because the page doesn´t load properly}

I just used the Alt G key to put in those curly brackets. And I just found the ´?´ it´s tiny because there are three symbols on the key. There is also a delay with the apostrophe I guess they team it up with a lot ot other keys so the computer sees that you typed it but won´t display it until you hit another key.

After horse back riding, we paid a boat load of money whether you count it in Iceland dollars or American dollars, to see the Northern Lights. They looked a lot like a certian type of cloud cover. They weren´t any cool colors. They were dirty white and mostly just sat there.

Don´t pay to see the Northern Lights!

But it´s a good trip.

The language sounds like a cross between Germain, Lebonese, Russian and some just-made-up parts. They speak English with what sounds like a Swedish accent.

The bacon´s great. It´s leaner then American bacon.

I had more but I forget.

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

ripped

I knew what you meant when you said "I don't comment on videos because I have this feeling that if I don't vlog myself I have no right to comment. It may seem odd, but it's how I feel."

I started blogging because I wanted to comment on someone's site. I worried a little that she might think: "Who the fuck is this guy?" So, I started this site to establish some background. Only back then comments weren't really common place or at least on the sites I was visiting so what I sent her was an email.

(Microsoft Word has suggestions on how I should rewrite that last sentence. I'm no literary genius but both of the suggestions are incorrect and secondly, in general, Microsoft can go fornicate themselves.)

...

My sister called and said she was having trouble with the alarm is her Jeep Wrangler. She had thought it might be with remote but later decided it was something different. I took the keys from her and hit the button three or four times and got no indication that anything was happening at all so I opened the unlocked door.

I expected the alarm to sound and when it didn't I reached in and put the key in the ignition. I was going to crank the engine just to make certain that the kill switch feature of her alarm wasn't working as well but in her Jeep you have to depress the clutch petal before the ignition will work so I took one large and high step into the drivers seat just like I always do when I using her Jeep.

Things were a little different this time however because just before my right foot hit the floor of the Jeep, my jean split to the right of my fly which wouldn't have been a big deal if I hadn't been going commando.

But what can you do, so I depressed the clutch and the engine cranked. Who knows what's going on with her alarm but at least she can drive it.

That's what I get for wearing those no name jeans from Target.

sure, but opening the trenchcoat is bad

I've never heard the phrase open the kimono. I only read it today.


...

She called and said that the plans might change because someone did follow through. I was try to figure out if there was anyway that the someone who didn't follow through was me but I was pretty certain I was totally uninvolved. I don't think she every really said how was to blame for certain but her and her friend at Iceland Air were the only ones on the list.

The trip to Iceland may be delayed a day.

She wouldn't tell me what the price was and I can't figure it out until I know the day we fly but it's about a grand a person from the price online. She may be getting a deal. She said it was supposed to be a surprise that she was going to pay for my ticket. I told her that she was doing things backwards because it's her birthday on the 27th. When she replied "I know but I love you and want to show you how much I appreciate you," I went silent. I was surprised a bit and did know which thought to express first.

I forget what she changed the conversation to after that.

But I've got plans in the works, and plus I know her bank account number and I can always deposit whatever I want right into it. But I do have to be careful not to go too far from her wishes because she did stab one of her boyfriends. I believe it was in his arm.

Monday, February 18, 2008

I have a hard time with stupid

I thought there would be more people searching for sink pisser. Maybe there are but I’m just too far down the list.

Sink Pissers Unite!

Or not. I’m going to get a sandwich.



I’m actually listening to CD’s. Who does that anymore? I rarely do but sometimes I go old school. My Sony bookcase stereo can play three CD’s although when the CD’s are changing it sound like an automotive assemby line.

The plan is to be flying to Iceland Saturday night.

Maybe I’ll piss in one of the hot springs their famous for.



He stood up to deal and asked if he could raise. He was told “Sure you can, buddy.”
“But if you do, don’t go saying that you don’t know how to play poker,” I added.
“You can’t say that to me.”
“All I’m saying is that people who don’t know how to play poker don’t raise.”
“Come on don’t start with him,” someone else said.
“I don’t know how to play.”
“Are you making a stupid raise?”
“What?”
“Are you making a stupid raise? Is the raise you’re going to make stupid?”
“No, I don’t think it is.”
“Well, then you can’t say you don’t know how to play.”

I lost a hundred bucks. I guess it was the price of being a prick.

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

.

In my mind these poses were similiar

Ms. Dash is a nocuous disease laden whore who is not to be trusted.

So, boneless pork chop were on sale and Ms. Dash marinade was on sale too which forced me to buy both. I tossed the chops into a ziplock bag and then cracked opened the bottle of marinade and as any good cook would do I took a sniff.

The fumes that went up my nose were none to pleasant so as the borderline genius I am I took a taste. The taste, coincidentally, matched the odor escaping the bottle. And because I'm nearly a genius, I figured that maybe my taste was off a bit because I was still congested a bit from a cold and also I figured that there was no way that what I was tasting could be the taste of a marinate offered for sale from a product line as famous as Ms. Dash. I emptied the bottle into the bag figuring even if that was the true taste of the product that the magic of the oven would cause some chemical reaction to occur and made the marinade taste delicious.

I think last night my oven was all out of magic because the flavor remained the same, fortunately the juiciness of the pork washed off most of the marinade.

(I actually grilled both sides of the chops on a grill pan before they visited the oven until the internal temperature reached 180)

So, I guess I'm saying fuck you Ms. Dash. Who the hell does your product testing?

Why the heck would I dump that vile stuff all over my wonderful slab of meat? I should know better. Now I question my judgment about everything. I feel violated. I trusted Ms. Dash over my own common sense and reasoning and she caused me pain. I will never trust her again.
"You we're really pounding them back," he said. I wouldn't have classified it as 'pounding,' I was merely taking her up on her offer of vodka shots and I was aware how many drinks per hour I was averaging. I'm a professional.

But it still wasn't like old times.

It can get it back. I can be king of the 4 to 7 crowd. I know some people who were jealous that I was a bartender favorite but back then it sort of just happened. My time is different nowadays. I would have to schedule that goal in and it's not that important to me.

I let it go on purpose.

Wednesday, February 06, 2008

I think I have a high drug tolerance which isn't too bad when you're trying to out drink your friends but ain't so good when you're trying to ease cold symptoms.


There used to be a time when I didn't have to worry about warnings like: Do not take with alcohol.

...

One hundred year old Tony was sitting right next to me and next to him there was an empty seat and next to the empty seat the manager was passing time by talking to the staff.

What I could hear over Tony's newsflash that Dunkin Donuts is now selling little pizzas was that she ran out of places to pierce, she loves her ass (being touched or something else), she likes to scratch during sex, she likes to get herself off on car trips that are forty minutes or longer and likes getting caught doing it by other drivers.... Unfortunately, some of those are only best guesses and I cannot swear to having heard them because Tony is a hundred years old and like to talk about things like ready-made sandwiches at Seven Eleven which are made on a hamburger roll and cost three dollars and eighty five cents.
I scored a table for two in the corner, took off my jacket and laid it across the length, leaving enough room for my coffee cup and then stuck my runny nose into a magazine that I had just picked up from Borders.

I made my way through the letter from the editor and the first article that interested me when I noticed some guy walking around like my privacy was in jeopardy. He started lowering his ass and I couldn't tell if it was to the bench next to the empty seat at my table or on the empty seat.

I moved my gaze from my magazine to my just jostled coffee cup as he settled onto the stool; but the coffee didn't spill so I figured no harm no foul but then he shook the table again.

He said "Sorry for being rude." I just gave my politest most irritated nod as I thought "How about just not being rude?" He then told me that he had just met John McCain and that it was incredible. I turned a magazine page.

"Did you get to see him?"

"No. I was at work."

"I got out of work early. I told him a joke but he heard it already. Do you want to hear it?"

"Nope."

"Okay, then I'll leave you alone."

"Thanks."

He was true to his word and somehow he managed not to bump the table as he left two minutes later.

Sunday, February 03, 2008

"Do guys like tits or asses better? Tits right? Tits are better."

The manager nodded and the manager for the bar across the street said "Yeah." I sat quiet because I like asses better but considered the question somewhat rhetorical. But then the twenty-one year old waitress with the nice rack and somewhat flat ass asked me point blank.

"I think what's on the inside is what matters," I said. She told me I was correct but one of the mangers shook his head and called me a douche. We're friends like that.
Have you ever visited a blog and thought "Yeah, I read that post yesterday," but then something would catch your eye that's unfamiliar so you reread the post and then you think "How'd I miss that?"


I was there a lot. A lot a lot. We became familiar and when we would talk, she would look out over the bar to the left and I would look back over the bar to the right, we wouldn't really look at each other, only the invisible paths of our gazes would meet.

Unless someone else said something stupid then we would look at each other and laugh.

Danielle was the first to go that mattered, then Emily, then Jen, then Lauren. Lana left too and she mattered but she never worked a day shift.

I'm not there like I used to be.

I'm still known but I'm no longer familiar.
How can I make my male coworkers realize that leaving the toliet seat up is inappropriate?


Q: I work in an area that's far from the men's and women's bathrooms in the main part of the building. All we have is a unisex bathroom in our area, and certain males are forever leaving the toilet seat up. How can I get them to realize that this is inappropriate?
L.E., Manchester, N.H.

A: Anyone who's sat on the toilet rim because the seat was left up knows how unpleasant that can be. The trick is to encourage the men to continue putting the seat up while at the same time getting them to start putting it down when they're finished. The best approach is to gently let them know about the issue. Consider starting with a sign above the toilet that says, "Please remember to put the seat down when you're done. Thank you." A next step would be to bring the issue up at the next department or team meeting.


You know, or maybe you don't but I'm a guy and I always put the seat down and if I saw a note that requested that I put the seat back down, I would seriously consider replacing it with a note that said "Please leave the seat up." After all it's in the woman's best interest to leave the seat up because that limits the chance that there will be piss on it because men are lazy and if they are required to put the seat back down, they just might leave it down to begin with.

And I don't buy the argument of some poor hapless woman being most unpleasantly surprised by sitting on the bare rim of a toilet. I know it can and does happen but open your eyes. If you're using a non-private toilet you should be looking where you're sitting, there are a whole host of other problems that you can encounter besides the seat being up.

Men should have equal toilet rights. How many men use that unisex toilet as opposed to women? Per use are there more standers than sitters? I think majority should rule.

This is why I piss in the sink.