Miasmatic Review

Facial hair that should not be.

The Battle for the facial hair is on. I have not trimmed in 4 weeks. Ktreva is starting to get irritated. I am still resisting the urge to trim, even though at dinner tonight I thought the bread had gone fuzzy. Then I realized I had a mouth full of my own facial hair.

How the weekend was won.

Okay, I’m over being burnt. Let me give you a brief recap of what happened last weekend. First thing first we drove up the Fort Atkinson right after work on Friday. It was pretty damn hot. Not wanting to waste gas I left the air conditioner off in the truck. Also since I don’t like the wind blowing in the window at 80 MPH, (What, the speed limit is only 65? Really? Are you sure? Cause I swear my speedometer was telling me it was 80.) I kept the windows rolled up and the vent fans on high. Which basically means I sweated off ten pounds on the ride up. Don’t worry; the family was in the air-conditioned second vehicle. We made excellent time.

Now this event has always been puzzling to me. I enjoy participating in it, yet at the same time I loathe it. Manly because it is the most piss-poorly run event I do. Everyone involved is really nice, but when you arrive there rarely is ever anyone around to tell you where you can and can’t set up. I spent a good 45 minutes to an hour searching for someone to tell me where I was supposed to camp. I was so pissed I about grabbed the family and drove home. Ktreva said she really wanted to stay so I just decided on Squatters rights and choose a spot. Sure enough as soon as we start setting up, who should appear, but the booshway (Man in charge) to collect our fee. Whenever you need to find someone “in-charge” after hours it’s almost impossible. It seems like any ounce of organization they attempt is done so poorly that they would have been better off not even trying to organize anything.

We could tell Friday night was going to be lonely. We didn’t see any of our normal friends there. We were camped kind of by ourselves, we looked really anti-social, hoping that when our friends showed up they could camp next to us. By 10:30 PM it didn’t look like any of the people that told us they were going to show up were going to. Saturday morning we awoke to a bake oven. It was already in the 80’s by 7:30 AM, and since it had rained so much the previous week the ground was saturated with water. That meant it was humid as all hell. Plus there was no breeze. After building a fire, (Yea, that sucked) and cooking French toast over it (That sucked more, especially since someone forgot the syrup… KTREVA!) we headed out to make our day. Right away we found a camp that hadn’t been there the night before. Our friend’s Will and Red showed up. They also had one of their sons and a whole slew of the Illinois River Scum with them. Since they didn’t have the big tent like I thought they had, they camped in the cooler shadier area. I don’t blame them, if my tent would have fit down there, I would have too.

After making our rounds, picking up Boopie's custom made chair from Irish Ridge and talking to our vendor friends. Boopie and I hit the range to burn powder. Boopie’s first time live firing was interesting. The gun handles fine. It’s just a little temperamental. That may have something to do with the farooking humidity making the black powder kind of gooey. I need to work on the boy’s upper body strength; he had a hard time holding the rifle up. After a couple of shots he decided he liked shooting, but didn’t like standing in the sun, so he gave it a rest. I on the other hand started the competition shooting. Again the humidity took its toll on my musket. The damn thing kept fouling up after every two to three shots and had to be seriously cleaned. Everyone shooting was having the same issues. Plus it was so hot that the lead balls were getting softer and starting to misshapen easier.

At the end of the weekend I ended up taking Second place in the Smooth bore competition, with out destroying the range. In fact this year range master Marty had a new rule, the “Seamus Clause” (In reference to last year when I exploded a two by four on my first shot). Anyone that hits one of the wooden supports or stands has to buy him a drink. I thought I was screwed. Funnily enough the only person all weekend to hit one of the stands was Marty.

My Friend Jim, his wife, his son and a friend of his son day tripped it to the event on Saturday to shoot. Since the award ceremony wasn’t until Sunday, he told Marty to give me any prizes they may have won. Well He took Second place in Adult rifle, His son’s friend took second place in the juvenile shoot, and his son took Third prize. I ended up collect 2 pounds of ham steaks, a pound of Canadian bacon, and two pounds of regular bacon. I was walking back from the award ceremony when someone asked what all I had, I couldn’t help but to say, “I won second place in the shooting competition. First place got a whole pig, Second gets an assemble your own pig.”

The ground at the range was pretty chewed up by the end of the event. However, most of the damage to the ground was my fault. My .75 caliber musket would chew up the ground behind the targets every time it hit. Other shooters and the audience would comment on the size of the divots I was shooting out of the ground. They also where amazed at the size of the furrows those round balls would create. At one point my buddy Jim was out on the range changing targets. He yelled back to everyone, “You should see the size of ditches Seamus is digging out here. It looks like World War 1 trench warfare.” He then proceeded to “Fall into” one.

After I was done shooting my competition rounds at the range. I helped Marty out by scoring other shooters. He was short handed and there where a lot of shooters there this year. That’s when I ended up getting burnt so bad. I was in the sun from 10:00 AM until 2:30 PM. 20 minutes actual shooting, 40 minutes of loading, an hour and half of cleaning and two hours judging. The whole time with out any sunscreen. Yep, my own damn fault.

Saturday afternoon is when the rain hit us. It wasn’t a heavy rain, and it lasted for only about 20-30 minutes. After it finished it did two things. Cooled everyone off some, and increased the humidity.

Saturday night we had a good time around the campfire and I had a couple more Mortar Maidens volunteer. That should last me until my July event. Both of my new Mortar Maidens portray Natives… that’s Indians to the PC crowd. We had fun trying to name them; ideas like, “Beaver on a stick” and “She who eats beaver” where two of the many ideas.

Sunday was even hotter then Saturday, and there was no cloud cover or wind to provide any relief. It was so hot that even the public stayed home and the re-enactors where all huddled under flies or in the shade of trees to stay out of the heat. Fortunately no one went down from heat stroke. We did have a couple of close calls. I had been drinking water all day, and immediately sweating it out. A lady comes up to me and asks me, “How do you do it? How do you stay so cool when it’s hot out.” Me, “You get used to it.” Lady, “You’re not even sweating.” Me, just realizing she was right, “Yea, that’s called dehydration.” The lady looked at me surprised and walked off. I don’t know if she now believes everyone in 1756 dehydrated themselves on hot days or not. But I did get something to drink.

All weekend I had a bunch of re-enactors tell me I was daft (the polite version of what they really said) for wanting to change to the 1830’s. I don’t know what was more fun, arguing the history with them, or just watching them get flustered at me for even thinking of changing eras. In fact at one point I think Will was going to have a conniption fit on Saturday night.

Sunday night most of the campers packed up and left. We stayed so we could pack during the cooler morning hours on Monday. We were able to hang out with the River Scum and some new friends we made. We cooked many pork products over fire and had a good time.

For some pictures and other stories see the review at the Spoon and Blade.

The end of the world is not nigh!

My streak is alive and running. We had rain on Saturday! I knew it was all a practical joke! There is no way that my re-enacting on Memorial Day weekend is not going to pull down the wrath of Mother Nature on poor even coordinators that were foolish enough to let me set up camp! So, yes once again it rained on Contagion while re-enacting.

On the upside it was only on Saturday, when the temperatures were in the 90’s with 90% humidity. The rain was welcomed with the joy that only a re-enactor wearing wool and black canvas on a hot miserable day can understand. While the public was fleeing for shelter, every re-enactor I saw was relishing the rain like a nice long shower. Unfortunately, between the sweat, funk and sun block I don’t think a one of us actually got wet. Our natural water repellent kept us dry. Water was bending around us like light through a prism.

I would love to tell you more, but I’m baked. (Not from Drugs.) We packed and loaded the vehicles in upper 80 temps. I drove all the way home from Fort Atkinson (about an hour and 15 minutes from my house) with no AC so I could conserve on gas mileage. Then just unpacked the vehicles. But I did get some serious sun this weekend. Check out this nice sunburn. If you look closely you can see where my bonnet was as there is distinct line between burnt and unburnt flesh.

Once I’ve recouped I’ll give you all a worthy breakdown of what happened. Boy do I have stories for you!

Good weekend? I don't think so!

Something is wrong in the world. I don’t know if the planets are aligning correctly or if it’s a sign of the apocalypse. It’s Memorial Day weekend, I’m going to be out re-enacting. The weather services are calling for highs in the 90’s, lows in the mid 60’s, and no rain. NO. RAIN.

Do you know what the mathematical odds of that happening are? It would the equivalent of you winning the lottery! It rains on me over 75% of the events I do every year. Add to that the fact that there is a 90% chance that it will rain at least one of the days on Memorial Day Weekend.

At this point I just want to say goodbye to all my friends. I figure this must be the end of the world. It’s never that warm or nice up here on Memorial Day weekend. If the weather service is not playing a cruel, yet funny, joke on me, then this must be the end. Either that or I’m going to be struck down by a fluke storm in the middle of the night.

Now I really need to hit the range.

There’s an old saying in my family, “It’s easier to ask forgiveness, then permission.” Sure, it’s not unique to my family, but it’s heard often. This evening I walk into the house, “Ktreva, I want to buy a handgun. How much trouble will I be in if I do?”

Ktreva hollers back, “A lot.”

Contagion, “But on a scale of 1 to 10, how much trouble would a be in.”

Ktreva, “At least a 6.” (1 means she’s mad, 10 means there are lawyers on the phone. A 6 means no sex for a while and possibly sleeping on the couch. When I hit 8, I need to find a place to stay and she will have the locks changed on the house.)

Contagion, “Whew… I can live with that. Look what I bought!” (Pulls out pistol he just picked up after paying for it last Friday.)

Ktreva, “Why did you buy that, don’t you have enough guns?” (Like a guy can own too many guns!)

Contagion, “Because I didn’t own one like this… and I wanted it!”

Needless to say, I owe her more jewelry. However, I couldn’t pass up the deal I got on this lovely baby. (Way under sticker price.) It’s a beautiful Colt 1991a1 series 80 Government .45 ACP. 5” barrel, 8 ½” overall length with double diamond rosewood grips. Now Grau doesn’t have to worry about me stealing his when we go shooting. Of course I’m not overly fond of the grips, so I’m thinking if purchasing some laser grips for it. The kind that has the laser site built into it. I figure it’s make it scarier looking when I chase the neighbor kids out of my yard at night. At a gun show I was able to handle the same colt with these on it, and I loved the feel.

Ever since the first time Grau let me fire his, I've been in love with this hand gun. I couldn't wait to get my hands on one. Every gun shop I went to, every gun show I visited, I was searching for one of these that was decently priced. A friend of mine that works at a local gun shop specially ordered some in, even though their store isn't an authorized Colt dealer, just so I would stop bugging him. Then when it arrived he discovered one was "damaged" and was "missing parts". Fortunately for me it was the one I liked so he knocked a hell of a lot off of the price for me.

Well if you excuse me, I’m going to go sleep on the couch. I like sleeping on the couch, it’s like camping, only with out having to set up a tent!

Bloody rumors.

Last night the leader from my old re-enactment group, Giles, stopped by the house. He had tried calling earlier while I was waging war with the lawn. When I tried to call him back he was in the basement waging war with his �toys�. He had heard a rumor regarding a friend of ours upcoming wedding. Someone had said we weren’t going because he was going. He wanted to come over to make sure that wasn’t the case. It wasn’t the case at all.

Our friend, Chastity, was originally supposed to get married on May 6th, Boopie's birthday. I was planning on going to the ceremony and cutting out early from the reception with Boopie for his own celebration. A relative of the brides was killed and the wedding was postponed due to the funeral. We were then notified it was going to be this weekend, Memorial Day weekend. We have a re-enactment this weekend that we really enjoy doing, Boopie will get to live fire his rifle here, and we get to see some friend’s we only see at one or two events a year.

Now, that being said, I would blow that all off for a friend’s wedding. Even if the friend is a re-enactor and should have known better than scheduling a wedding on a re-enactment weekend. Just kidding! She sometimes reads this blog… had to get the dig in. The real reason we are still going is that at our last re-enactment we ordered a bunch of stuff from a merchant that is retiring from re-enacting. This is the last event that we will both do together. I told them that I would be there to pick up and pay for the items. They didn’t charge me up front because they’ve known us since we started re-enacting. In fact we’ve bought a lot of supplies from them. These arrangements were made PRIOR to finding out the new date of the wedding. Actually they were made prior to finding out the original date was postponed.

It had absolutely nothing to do with any bad blood between Giles and me. We talked for two hours and straightened out any perceived problems there may have been. This, like most things is just a serious of bad information and misunderstandings. Although while speaking with him, I did feel myself getting hot under the collar. Not at him, but at the bullshite that was going on. It was this precise line of rumor, innuendo and malicious behavior that started issues I had last November. It seems that there are people in the world that live off of others strife. If they aren’t getting what they want, they manufacture their own. That may not be the case here, it may just be a misunderstanding, but you never know.

As far as I’m concerned, Giles and I are good. No issues, no problems. He’s welcome in my home and camp. Now if Chastity can only learn to schedule things on non re-enactment weekends. (The first date fell on another re-enactment. Bloody Lake.) Women!

I'll bet there are not too many people hooked on crack that can play the bagpipes.

Grau's mid-life Crises.

Graumagus of Frizzen Sparks has decided to have a mid-life crisis. How one just ups and decides this is beyond me, but he has. To make matters even goofier he can’t come up with something to do as part of his crises and has asked his readers for suggestions. Of course he has set some rules:

1)Must cost less than $100 unless you bastards are willing to cough up the dough for whatever sick shit you inflict on me.
2) Must not be a criminal offense. Sorry folks, I have a family to support and I'm not going to jail and/or getting a permanent criminal record for your amusement.
3) Must not lose me my job (see above).
4) No genital piercings. Self explanitory (and besides, do you really want to see photos of my pasty nads with steel bits through 'em?)
5) Must not get me killed. Remember, the whole idea is that I live another 35 years, remember? Possibly in shame after this is over, but alive nonetheless.
6) Must not end up in divorce. In other words, the conjoined albino midget hookers aren't an option. Sorry guys. I'm sure this will end with me being in trouble (I'll be in trouble after Maranda reads this post) but nothing that's actionable in court, please...
7) No permanent body modification. I'm not getting anymore tats just yet.
8) No eating Lutefisk. Or other horrible poisonous things like scat, urine, eyeballs, etc.
9) No making me dress up like Emma Peel. This woman gets irate when I suggest that. In fact, I'm taking "Grau in drag" off the table as being too horrible to inflict on humanity in general.

Then as if this wasn’t just down right goofy enough, he has decided that T1G, Harvey and myself are going to be the judges to pick and enforce this crisis. (Yea, the man is pretty daft.)

To make sure I don't wuss out, and to pick the submissions to be included in the final poll, three shall be chosen to make sure the sentence is properly enacted. I haven't asked them yet, but I'm sure that Contagion, T1G, and Harvey will relish the idea of torturing and humiliating me will be fair and impartial judges. Being chosen to execute the sentence does not disqualify any of them from submitting entries. God help me.

About know if you’ve read him in the past, you know he is very familiar with the individuals that he picked as judges. That means you have to be thinking, “Grau, you’re one stupid son of a beaotch.” Because you know I’m going to jump all over being a judge. Even if that means I have to sit in a room and watch him have a full body wax. Sure I may end up in counseling for it, but I’d love to see his reaction when they hot wax his balls. Picture if you will a big man crying and screaming for his mommy. Yea, I may be scared from seeing his pasty nads… but the mental image of him screaming already is making me chuckle.

So head on over, make your suggestions. Make sure they are good. We, er I, want something I can make fun of him for years about.

My wife says no... but I might anyway.

For years my wife and I have gone around and around over my facial hair. I want to let mine grow out more; she wants me to keep it closely trimmed. The only thing we both can agree on is that I must have facial hair.

I want my facial hair to be longer so that it fits in better with re-enacting the period I’m portraying. To me I want to try to do the entire package of re-enacting, including the facial hair. Ktreva just wants it so that she’s not even more embarrassed to be seen with me in public. When I showed her this picture she emphatically said no, and called her lawyer.

Either way, I’m thinking I could pull off some of these great mustaches. However, the one above is my favorite.

Speaking of Hot 'Tang.

Having worked in Law Enforcement, I can only imagine the responding officers reaction to this call.

MAY 17--An Iowa man impervious to embarrassment called cops this week to report the theft of a blow-up fashioned to resemble a porn star. According to a Council Bluffs Police Department report, Trenton Camacho called cops Monday night to report that a "Priority US Mail package" containing his "Jenna Haze Love Doll" had been opened and that the plastic plaything was missing.

What the hell is wrong with the world today? I mean if you are going to open someone’s mail and steal something, why do you take the plastic coochie?!?! Why not take the whole damn thing? Then if you had your love toy stolen, would you really call the cops? I think I’d just order another one.

Then on the off chance that the police did recover the stolen part, would you really want it back? I mean it would probably glow under a black light so brightly that they could see it from space!

A comedy 3000 years in the making.

Have you ever wondered what High School would be like in the time of Moses? Well, neither have I, but that doesn’t stop this from being a funny spoof. Take the Ten Commandments, set it in a modern High School, have Samuel L. Jackson as the principal, and you have 10 Things I hate About Commandments.

Click to Watch

Another Fantasy matchup.

I know there are many closet nerds and geeks out there. Sci-fi fans of all ages that try to hide it because they remember in High School the jocks kicking their ass for having an in depth conversation regarding what was better, Star Wars or Star Trek. Well after time people move on to what they compare and someone decided that he was going to find out what would happen if Neo from The Matrix fought Robocop.

Click to watch video

That's not what they are looking for!

There are so many reasons this is wrong. I feel bad for the poor fool that actually came here looking for actual information on this topic.

I’m the Number 2 hit for Sensitivity Class on Google.

Click to enlarge

Lou Bachrodt Automall, update.

Last Sunday while out driving the check Engine light came on the truck. There was no lag in performance or anything so I wasn’t too worried. Since it was under warranty I wanted to get it looked at right away. I was pretty sure it was a sensor that went bad. In the last four vehicles I’ve owned, when the check engine light came on it was because of a bad sensor. We also had a problem with a door locking in the Van and a leak in one of the rear compartments. That meant I had to take them back to the Lou Bachrodt Automall to do the warranty work. Some of you may remember that last November I put up a post blasting this dealership’s service department.

The problem I had was that the next closest dealership to do these repairs was in the next time and I just don’t have the time to drive that far out of my way. I called the GM, and left a message about bringing in the truck. He’s a busy man, and knowing how businesses can go, I was not expecting an immediate call back. While waiting, I decided to go ahead and bring the truck in for repairs. Dropping the truck off I spoke with a Service Advisor that I had not had any dealings with in the past, Rick Wilson. I explained my entire situation, including my history with their service department. He said he would take care of me; I was pretty apprehensive about the whole situation.

The GM contacted me that afternoon and told me to bring the truck in and he’d have it worked on. I told him that it was already there and Rick had it. Later that afternoon I received a call from Rick, he said that no it wasn’t a sensor, but another component that needed replacing. They would order the parts and have it done the next day. Since it was in already I decided to have some mud flaps installed on the truck that I had put off doing. I dropped off the flaps and waited.

The next day Rick tells me that the vehicle is finished. We pick it up and I will say two things right now. First, Rick did an excellent job. He seemed sincere in caring about my truck and my concerns. Second, they did an excellent job on the mud flaps. They look great. The truck ran fine and everything seemed to be in top working order. At that time I set up an appointment to bring the van in. I told them it would be noon before we got it there. Due to changes in our schedule, I ended up having to drop the van off at 7:00 AM.

Later that day, I don’t remember the exact time, I was contacted and told that the door was fixed, but the van had to be sent to a body shop to have the leak fixed. They quit doing their own bodywork, so they sent it to an outside contractor. Rick even put Ktreva into a rental vehicle while the van was being worked on.

The next day Rick calls and tells me that the van is done. Ktreva picks it up; it was all covered under the warranty. Everything was fixed and there didn’t seem to be any more problems. The rain we had gave us a chance to make sure no more leaks. After a quick inspection of the vehicle, I decided I needed to go in and talk to Rick. I know what it’s like dealing with a disgruntled customer, and he did a great job. He took care of me and my vehicles, I felt that with all the trouble I caused him that I at least owed him a thank you and apology for initially giving him a hard time.

When we dropped off the van I was able to speak with the GM. He explained that many changes have been made in staffing so that situations like mine wouldn’t happen anymore. He has always been a straight shooter with me, and he helped me get my problems corrected. From the experience I’ve had over the last week I’d say he was correct. It appears a lot of changes have been made so that their quality in the service department has improved. If another problem arises with one of my vehicles, I won’t be as apprehensive in taking it back.

What's wrong with me?!?!

What the hell. I think I need to adjust my personality. It seems that all of my friends are either moving away, becoming truck drivers, thinking of moving away or have jobs that make it damn near impossible to see them anymore. The only thing they have in common is that they are all friends of mine. This has made for quite a predicament. I need to try to make new friends.

I hate making new friends. It’s like change, and change is bad. That and I’m not good at it. I’m just waiting to see who goes next. I know they all say it's not me, but I know... oh yes, I know!

Where did he go?!?!

I am not dead. Maybe MIA, definitely neglectful, but I am NOT dead.

I’d love to tell you some grand story of where I’ve been, but there’s nothing to it. Sunday was mother’s day. The boys bought Ktreva a computer game she wanted, so I relinquished the computer to her for the day. Hey, it’s her day. The least I could do is let her play her new game. That and I forcibly had to make sure she didn’t do anything that came close to what might be considered work. IE no laundry or anything. I made her take the day off and relax. I handled the childerbeasts.

As you may recall we were in a drought. I say were, because we are no longer in one. In fact we are now in the surplus of rain. It seems my re-enacting luck jump-started the rain here in Northern Illinois. The down side is that it has rained every day for the last week and a half. Hell, if I didn’t know better I’d say I was at a re-enactment last weekend. In fact it is raining right now. This has caused me two issues. A) My lawn is growing at an alarming rate and I’m not able to get out and mow it. 2) I can’t get outside to do any of the exterior housework that needs to be done.

Hopefully all the rain comes and is gone for Memorial Day weekend. I have a re-enactment that weekend that I enjoy, and the boys are both looking forward to going to this one. However, for the last three years we have been rained on at this event.

The van is back in the shop for warranty work. Once that is finished I’ll give you an update on that. Yes, I took it back to the same dealership that caused me all the trouble the last time. It’s warranty work and I’m limited on where I can take it.

In the meantime Ktreva has yet another rental car. She has driven five different vehicles in the last month. Fortunately she only damaged two of them. >ducks under the swing of a cast iron frying pan<

However, I think the biggest news in my life right now is that Ktreva and I are thinking of changing the era we re-enact. We think we might leap forward to the 1830’s and do the Black hawk War. It’s local history, it was the last major Indian war in the Midwest, and it would make it historically accurate for me to have a wife and kids with me at the events. Right now, some of the re-enactors that know me may be dropping their jaws in disbelief. I was one of the people that really wanted to get into the French and Indian war era re-enacting. As part of a group it was easier to get away with huge discrepancies in my presentation. Now that we are on our own, it is much more difficult. Sure there is going to need to be some costuming changes, but that isn’t much. I need to do more research into what I need costuming ways, but the rest of my equipment will be just fine. In fact my Wall tent will be more accurate as they where actually starting to use them around that time.

Just don't use a pair with Skid marks.

Ever wonder what to do with an old pair of underwear? Well, that is unless you like wearing them as a hat. Well if you have, and you didn’t want to throw them out, I have the perfect answer for you. Make a wallet out of them.

May the Farce be with you

When I was younger, Graumagus introduced me to a parody of Star Wars. Hardware Wars was one of the funniest spoofs I’ve seen. Just this morning while surfing the net I discovered that Pistolwimp.com actually had the full movie up on their site for all to watch.

Behold in all it’s glory and geekitude, Hardware Wars featuring Fluke Starbucker, Auggie Ben Doggie, Ham Salad and my personal favorite, Chewchilla the Wookie Monster.

Chewchilla the Wookie Monster and Ham Salad

Yes, there is a Sci-Fi dork hidden inside me.

I like my Blondes with a side of red head.

Guys, we’ve all been there. You’re out on the town, you stop in to get something to eat and there getting ready to bring you the golden nectar of the gods is a serving wench waitress that is fit to bring mead to Odin himself. The Smoking hot waitress that makes each beer taste better then the last. The one that as soon as the leaves the table you and the rest of the guys make a mental check list of all the things you’d like to do to her, or more importantly have her do to you.

The other morning, the jocks on a local radio station where talking about a website the chronicles these beautiful young lasses, Smoking Hot Waitress.

Smoking Hot Waitresses

Now you can plan your nights out on the town around which bars or restaurants will have the best looking waitresses.

Posted by Contagion at 10:06 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

Man-poo

Some of you might find this hard to believe, but if I have a feminine side it’s hidden so deep that hypnotherapy can’t even find it. Let me give you an example. I haven’t had to buy shampoo in a year and a half. We were given a gallon of shampoo by a company as part of a promotion and with my short hair that lasted for a long, long time. It doesn’t take much to wash my hair.

I finally ran out of shampoo and had to purchase some. Ktreva and I ran to the store on our lunch break to purchase some. I can go a day or two with out washing my hair, but after that it just feels nasty and I don’t need gel to keep it spiky. As soon as I turned to go down the shampoo aisle I noticed it was filled with all these funky scented and special needs shampoos. What the hell? A) I’m not buying anything that is going to smell like flowers. 2) I’m not buying anything to give my hair extra sheen and luster D) I’m definitely not buying something to give my hair more body and bounce.

I turn to Ktreva and say ”Do they even make a man’s shampoo? I’m not washing my hair with any of this girlie crap”Rolling her eyes, Ktreva loudly states that she will help my find man-shampoo. The other shoppers, all female, are smiling and chuckling. Ktreva, happy because she thinks she has gotten one over on me is also smiling. Not to be undone, I respond with ”Yes, that’s what I need Man-Poo.” Now everyone is laughing or looking on in shock. All Ktreva can do is try to hide her embarrassment over being seen in public with me at that moment.

We spent the next 20 minutes searching for something that would work. Then Ktreva find’s a bottle of stuff labeled, “Shampoo for men.” It’s a two in one deal that cleans and conditions. Like I care about conditioning. ”I told you I’d find a shampoo for men.” says Ktreva. Loudly I respond with, “Thank you for finding me man-poo.”

I don’t know why, but she ran out of the aisle trying to shield her face from the passer-bys staring at us.

Why do I bother?

I mowed the lawn yesterday. It rained all day today. The damn dandelions sprung up like morning wood on a teenager. Now it looks like I didn’t mow my lawn. I hate plants.

This is my Boom Stick!

Which B-Movie Badass Are You?

Gimme some sugar baby.
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I saw this over at Drunken Wisdom. If you don't know me by now, then let me fill you in. I have a strange obsession with zombies and b-movies, I couldn't resist taking this quiz.

Lawn 1, Contagion 0

As many of you may recall, I hate yard work. Let me rephrase that because hate is not a strong enough word. I view yard work as a vile punishment set forth by society for transgressions committed and forth coming. I’d rather clean raw sewage out of my basement then yard work. Trust me, I’ve done both. There’s just something about working with plants that makes me want to pave my property and cover it in Astroturf.

That being said, I had to mow the lawn tonight. Some people might say that mowing the lawn should be soothing because it’s like decapitation a million plants. You’re wrong! It’s like giving a million haircuts to the enemy! The damn grass (read weeds) just grows back. The last time I mowed my lawn was two weeks ago tonight. It’s not that I hate doing it as to why it took me so long to mow again; I had a re-enactment and then a trip to Chicago in there. Tonight was the first free night I was able to fire up ye ol’ Flowbee for grass.

With all the much-needed rain we had over the last two weeks, my grass had once again grown to lengths that almost warranted it to be declared a prairie restoration area. I knew I was in trouble when after the first five minutes not only did I cause a stampede of North American Bison (AKA Buffalo), but the bagger on the mower was filled to bursting. People that have seen my house know I don’t have a huge yard (for a reason). That should give you an idea of how long the grass was. I kid you not; I found the remains of a deer in my back yard that had been eaten by coyotes! The grass was almost to my knees in length!

Thirty minutes later, and four yard bags, I finished the front yard and went inside to eat dinner before starting on the back yard. My body required some nourishment in order to keep up the work. Really, it had nothing to do with my mile wide lazy streak and extreme disdain for the task at hand! Boopie, in order to fully understand his new manhood status was forced out into the yard to help. He picked up trash and sticks between fighting off a roaming tribe of plains people that had set up camp back by the once sandbox. It once was a sandbox, now it was a sandy oasis in which the plains people made fires and dried meat from the recently hunted buffalo.

It only took an additional hour to finish the back yard. The plains people revolted against the oppressors trying to take their land. Boopie and I were forced to abandon the lawn Flowbee for rifle and musket to fend off the attack. When we rescued the mower, I needed to unclog all the clippings wedged between the blade, side of the mower and the bag. Apparently you really can over fill the bags on those things. The clippings become so packed in there it’s like trying to dig out cement. I kid you not; I was chipping away at the compacted clippings with a screwdriver trying to get them to come free.

But the job is done. The yard looks… not unkempt. I’m thinking maybe I should hire someone to do this task for me. Especially since Ktreva came out afterwards and gave me a list of other yard work she wants done. Trimming trees and bushes, digging up flowerbeds, removing small trees that started growing in odd places.

I like the rain; I know the farmers need it to make a living. But damn, I didn’t have as much work to do last year in the middle of the drought!

Birthday Celebrations.

Yesterday Boopie turned 13. As his father I felt it was my duty to start him on some of the rites of manhood. The best way to do this was with a guy’s night out. After spending two weeks explaining to Ktreva why she and Clone could not come with, I started making plans. It’s a guy’s night out, that’s not Guys and MOM! We started off the evening at Hooters. With the help of a couple of fellow bloggers, Shadoglare and T1G, we started the evening out right. Pretty girls, hot wings and instructional advice on the Man Code were given to Boopie by the three of us. We also gave advice on how to pick up and deal with girls.

So about right now some of the ladies out there are probably thinking to themselves, “Good lord, what kind of horrible advice did they give?” Let me tell you this, it was all good, sound advice that hopefully he retains. Trust me, the now man was in good hands.

Speaking of good hands, while at Hooters Boopie received a T-shirt autographed by all the girls and had his picture taken with them as well. I’d love to tell you the rest, however, the man code prohibits the telling of stories in this type of situation. That and a panicked “Don’t tell mom!” on the ride home has rendered my unable to speak about it.

After dinner we separated our ways from T1G and Shadoglare. They went on their way, and we headed to the Rock River Raptors game. Boopie was surprised by how good of seats I have. He knew they where good, but he didn’t realize that they where upfront and in your face! Boopie participated in the half-time mini-football toss. Unfortunately he didn’t win.

My favorite player on the team, Jeremiah Thompson (Number 25 in your program, number 1 in your heart) played last night. I know the web page says his number is 18, but trust me people, it's actually 25. I told him it was Boopie's 13th Birthday and he promised Boopie he would get 13 receptions and 2 touchdowns for him. Well, he didn’t get the thirteen receptions, but he did get two and half touchdowns. One of his catches he dove over the end zone wall, so it didn’t count. That’s why I’m counting it as half a touchdown. If our Quarterback hadn’t overthrown the ball, it would have been a good touchdown! The best part was that after his first touchdown, as he was running back to the bench, Thompson pointed to Boopie and said, “That one is for you.” It made Boopie’s evening to say he had a TD scored just for him.

Today the celebration is over and I have to deal with the fact that I’m old enough to have a teenager. You have to understand, half the time I feel like I’m still 16. Gah, I’m just getting old.

I prefer my Douchebags with redheads.

We’ve all seen it; you have some freaky looking guy or one that has the personality of a compost heap with a hot girl. Well at least I see it all the time. Most common is the guy that is just a brain dead Neanderthal who thinks he’s god’s gift to the world when in reality we’d be better off with out him. But this guy has some pretty girl on his arm all the time which helps bolster his over-inflated ego.

I’m not the only one to have noticed this, and there is a guy that has dedicated a blog to the study of the phenomenon, Hot Chicks with Douchebags. It’s “pictures of hot chicks with total and complete douchebags. With commentary. The best thing about it is that the writer claims to be a douchebag himself, but is upset he can’t get any hot chicks.

I’m not sure what’s better, the commentary or the really unflattering photo’s of guys being hose heads, er douchebags! BTW, the kid above... I can't blame him. But the brunette is hotter, but the blondes boobages are more in his face. Tough decisions.

Speak for the lord!

This has got to be the most insane preacher I’ve ever seen. After watching this, I really do want to go get the shotgun in my previous post! Just in case he comes to my door, I want a way to keep him at bay.

Click to watch video

This guy isn't very Christian like. I didn't realize calling people a "stupid Beotch" or "Motha Fuhka" was loving thy neighbor.

What a shotgun!

Since I’ve neglected my normal Saturday waste of time, I thought I’d get this one going right. First lets start with what possible has to be the coolest shotgun I’ve ever seen. A friend of mine sent me this video clip for the Beretta Extrema2 shotgun.

Click to watch Video

First let me say, the guy in the video is one hell of a shot. Secondly, if the shotgun works even remotely close to the way it’s shown in this video I’m impressed. The asking price for this firearm is $1,098 to $1,598. I wonder how much trouble I’d get in if I ordered one today?

That's the way it was.

Since Ktreva and I are huge history buffs as well as re-enactors, we enjoy a reality series done by PBS. They take people from various aspects of life, assign different roles and place them in a historical setting. The people are supposed to work together in their historically based roles to meet a pre-assigned objective. Frontier House was set in 1883 Montana Territory, the families in this episode where supposed to make a functioning community that would survive the winter. Colonial House was set in 1628 New England. The participants where supposed to make a colony that would not only survive the winter, but also be profitable to the company that funded the expedition. Texas Ranch House was set in 1867, post civil war, Texas (duh!). They where supposed to make a profitable functioning Texas ranch.

People were assigned roles based on this historical norm in their time period. They were supposed to live life and work as they would in the year they were portraying. This includes laws, social norms and tasks. As a re-enactor I would love to take the 2-3 months off of work to do something like this. Ktreva and I have both talked about it; unfortunately we have a family and just don’t see us giving up good jobs to go re-enact for 3 months straight. That and I honestly don’t think they would pick us. We have way too much experience in “primitive living.” The shows are great as you get to see people’s reaction to life in the past. We both have one problem with these shows.

The participants don’t seem to get the concept, especially the women. (No offense ladies, but they don’t.)

People have a hard time setting aside their 21st century beliefs to accurately portray their roles. Work doesn’t get done or projects are handled with a modern twist. This doesn’t bother me, but I feel they are missing out on the actual experience. What bothers me is when people want to shun the entire project. IE, you have people in 1628 refusing to go to church and admitting they are atheists, people admitting they are gay or women refusing to wear hats. It’s 1628; you would have been outcasts, severely punished and more likely executed for these transgressions. In all three you have women walking around in what would be their underwear doing daily tasks. You had men that would be disrespectful to people of higher station. They would take the women and children into what would be considered hostile situations, like negotiating with the natives.

What really bothers me are the women. In every episode it is the women that start the breakdown of the project. Why? Because they don’t like the traditional roles they had to portray. They get upset because the men get to ride horses, go hunting, wrangle cattle, and do all the other romanticized historical tasks. The women want to do these same things and feel it is unfair. They don’t want to do the cooking, cleaning, sewing, gardening, etc that was a common and necessary part of life back then. They complain that life isn’t fair and that the guys are being chauvinistic. They tend to try to take on more authoritarian roles in the communities and resent when they aren’t being listened to.

Well, I hate to break it to you ladies; life back then wasn’t fair. The point of these projects isn’t to give a woman a chance to experience life as a cowboy, explorer, soldier or hunter. It’s an exercise on seeing how life was like back then. Women at these time periods where chattel. Even in 1883 there was no equal rights for women. Now, before I have some of my female readers go off on me, I’m not saying this is right. It’s just how life was back then. Just like you’re not going to have a Black military officer in 1867 Texas, you are not going to have a female cowboy.

About now the militant panty brigade is going to say, “Well there where female cowboys, hunters, explorers etc…” To which I will respond, there are very limited examples of this. For every female you find in a non-traditional role, I’ll find a couple million examples of them being in a traditional role. These females are the extremely rare anomaly, not the norm. Triplets are more common then they were.

What I find most amusing is that I run into this problem when we re-enact. We’ve run across female warriors, soldiers, trappers, traders and craftsman (These examples do not include merchants that are selling actual wares to re-enactors and public, I’m referring to people that are trying to portray a historical character.) I was at a battle a couple years ago where there were at least 10 females on the battlefield (Not even plausibly disguised) fighting. They weren’t needed, they just wanted to get out there and every single one of them gave the same example of a documented case of a woman who disguised herself as a man to fight. What they left out was that she was hung shortly after being discovered because she falsely represented herself.

History isn’t pretty. In fact can be down right ugly, and I’m not even talking about Grau and I wearing kilts in a high wind. If you’re going to do something like these shows or re-enact, at least try to do it right. If you don’t like the historical role, too bad, you volunteered.

Gastro intestinal exclamation point.

I don’t have time to post an official review or pictures from last weekend, but I can give you a brief summary. When we arrived Thursday night we had an issue finding our camp. They had some goofy method of numbering and had us joined in with four other camps. It was rather confusing. After a good friend of ours, and committee member showed us where we where to go, we got everything set up. Thursday went pretty uneventful.

Friday was beautiful. The weather was nice and Boopie and I where able to get cartridges rolled for the battle re-enactment. He was very excited as this was going to be his first one. I bought him that rifle for his thirteenth birthday. During the day school kids were going from site to site (That had a demonstration) learning about different aspects of history. They had stopped by my site, but I had to move them on. I wasn’t doing a demonstration. As it was stated to me, “We love your display, and appreciate what your bring to this event. Unfortunately some of the teachers and parents don’t think distilling is a good demonstration for children, they don’t want you promoting alcohol. We know that’s not what you are doing, but the public can be narrow minded.” So I didn’t do my demonstration. No skin off of my back, it made for a relaxing day. That night we went into town (in costume) to a restaurant for dinner with some friends of ours. We had a good time, and watching people’s reaction to French Voyagers and Scottish Mercenaries invading a Chinese food restaurant was hilarious. That and we stunk of campfire and body odor.

When we returned to camp, I abandoned my family to visit some other camps. Ktreva stayed with Clone, we can’t leave him unattended in a tent… stupid modern laws! In 1756 I could have tied him to a tree and been okay! I visited the Roger’s Rangers camp and drank some of the most god awful homemade liquor on the face of the earth. Then I drank some of the stuff they made. I was up until almost 3:00 in the morning drinking and bullshiteing with my fellow re-enactors. Which isn’t a good idea when you have a 6:00 AM wake up call in the form of a 3 year old.

I felt a bit rough on Saturday and the crappy weather didn’t help any. I was nursing a bit of a sore head and upset stomach all day. Then around 12:30 I was talking to a group of people about distilling when a wave of nausea came over me. One of them asked, “Do you ever drink what you make?” (Which is water, it’s illegal to distill any liquor in the US with out a distiller-manufacturing license, and they are cost prohibitive.) Right as they asked that question, I responded with, “O’ course Aye do. I canno’ sell mah whiskay wi’ out samplin’ it first! Now excuse me, I think I’m going to get sick.” I took about ten steps through the crowd and proceeded to vomit all over the road. I whipped my mouth, walked back to my still and continued my presentation with out missing a beat. The public just stared at me like I was insane. The weird part was that I had bacon and eggs for breakfast, and that wasn’t in my vomit. Nope, it was mainly liquid with bits of rice from the night before, but no sign of bacon or eggs. I want to know how that happened.

That afternoon I took Boopie with me to his first battle. He was instructed on how to handle his rifle and to stay with me at all times. For the first 15 minutes of the battle I was busy making sure he was following the safety rules and not hurting himself or anyone else that I only got one shot off. He was so excited he kept forgetting the rules and I had to keep reminding him of what to do, including the proper way to hold a rifle. And that is how he got hurt. My son, in his first battle almost (wait for it)… shot his eye out. Instead of shouldering the rifle properly so that the butt was firm in his shoulder, he put the top of the butt in his armpit and brought his eye close to the barrel, “To aim”. I had told him 5 times that day not to hold it like that, but he kept doing it. The last time I was just yelling at him to hold the rifle correctly when he pulled the trigger. If you are familiar with Flintlocks, then you know that when you pull the trigger there is a small explosion in the pan by the hammer. If you didn’t know that, you do now. He caught black powder all along side his face. He was okay, a little more freckled and bloodshot eye. I sent him back to camp to have Ktreva check him out to make sure he was okay. After the battle I went back to check on him and he was okay, he was more worried I was mad at him then he was hurt.

That night the rain and wind got heavier. We were invited to numerous camps to socialize; however we had to turn them all down. We can’t leave Clone unattended. I offered to let Ktreva go out and I’d stay with the boy, but she didn’t want to. We ended up sitting around the fire just talking for a while, and then went over to a neighboring camp to join their festivities. That and they had a better set up to block the wind and rain.

Sunday morning we were awoken to the sounds of vehicles and people packing. I stepped out of the tent, found an even coordinator and confirmed they canceled the event. The weather was supposed to be worse then the day before, so they where letting people pack in and go home early. Ktreva and I took the break in the rain as a chance to break camp, pack up and get home so we could hang the wet canvas to dry.

We had a good time for the time we were out there. Although we are kind of saddened and worried. We found out that four re-enactors that we know are looking to sell off their gear and get out of re-enacting. There are a lot of people that have been either getting so old they retire or give up re-enacting of late. Not too many younger people are getting involved. Hell, Ktreva and I are pups in the re-enacting crowd. The average age for what we do has got to be 55, and that may be a young estimate. We just hope some younger people pick it up; I don’t want to have to find a new hobby.

I guess it is an issue.

I just got back from a business trip to Chicago. I’ve been there since Monday, hence the complete lack of posting. Work sent me for a class on diversity. (IE don’t discriminate against people different then you.) It was painfully evident after the first couple of hours that this class was misnamed. It should have been called, “If you are a non-disabled white heterosexual male 30-55, you have everything handed to you awareness class.” The class of 25 had a good mix of people in age, race, religion and gender. I’d throw in sexual orientation, but I don’t know what everyone’s was.

This class did more damage then good. That’s not just my opinion, but also that of at least 10 others that took the class. The class came across as saying that even though now you don’t look at race, age or gender when making decisions; you need to start. If you have four people applying for a job, it doesn’t matter who is the best qualified for the position. If they all meet the minimum requirement for the position, you need to then look at what race/gender/age you need to make your employees more diversified.

My jaw about hit the table. I’ve always been a person that didn’t look at race, gender, age or anything else like that. When I assigned tasks, jobs or gave a promotion I based it on who was the best for the job. Who was the most qualified, who would be able to do the work. Apparently I was wrong. I’m supposed to make sure I have a mix of employees. Thus the next time I do promotions since I don’t have a male employee, if one puts in for it and just barely makes the minimum requirements, I should promote them over anyone else. I’m sorry, that’s bullshite! I don’t care if the person is an albino Creole homosexual missing two legs and an eye. If they are the best qualified for the job, they get it.

Apparently, I’m wrong. It’s not about who is best qualified, it’s about what race, gender, age, religion, disability or sexual orientation who gets the job. I’m very disappointed in my company right now. Here I thought I worked for a company that none of that mattered. A company that valued the employee for ability, skill and knowledge over anything else.

I hate being wrong.