Dumpster Fire

Unfortunately for me I have battled with insomnia for the better part of the last 10 years.  If you have the grave misfortune of dealing with such a plight then I greive for you because dealing with it has been the bane of my existance.  I can only speculate as to how and why it began but the reasoning behind it is simply irrelevant.  The painful experince is far more importnat than the reasoning...

Insomnia is a cyclical experince, meaning that when that mother fucker shows up it hangs around for a few weeks... maybe a few months and then leaves only to return to fight anonther day.  I'm currently in one of those horrible cycles and I'm catching about 2-3 hours of sleep a night.

Recently, in an attmpt to battle this horrid demond I turned to the mythical treatment of... Counting sheep.  Yes....  I tried couting sheep.  Lots of sheep...

I sat in a field alone in an old wooden rocking chair slowly rocking back and forth and stroking my beard.  One after another the little white sheep slowly trootted in front of me before leaping into the air over a low wooden fence.  Their agility was quite shocking to tell you the truth and the process of couting them was actually somewhat soothing at first.   I was quickly lulled into a sense of peace and sleepiness...

Hours later and nearly 4,500 sheep counted, I found myself still wide awake and far more angry and frustrated than I was when I started counting.

4497, 4498, 4499... and after that I could take no more.  The 4500th sheep move quickly toward the fence.  I leand forward in my chair.  As it approcached the fence for its ballet like leap... I struck...  Like hungry lion rushing atelope I charged...  As the sheeps hoved feet left the ground I aslo leaped in the air chatching him in stride and driving him into the groud like Ray Lewis snatching some fool running back out of the air as he tried to dive for the end zone.

Despite catching him completely off gaurd the sheep was suprisingly quick and agile.  He was back up to his feet in no time.  I barrell rolled over and qucikly jumped up to my feet.  But before I could steady myself the sheep caught me with a sharp right hoof to my left eye.  I stumbled back a step or two to regain focus.  It was then that I realized he was standing vertically on his back legs with his two front hooves held up in boxer like fashion.  I was stunned.  He caught with me another short right and a left cross before I could defend myself.  He clearly saw my confusion.  It made no sense to me that I had just gotten punched in the face by a sheep and he was taking advantage of my awestrucked stature.  That alone was enough for him to get in a few good shots before I could counter.

His hooves where lightning quick and right away I knew I was out matched in the standing game.  My only hope was to untilize my wrestling background and take this sheep to the ground.  As he drew back to throw another hoof I changed levels and dropped down to his legs.  I hooked both my arms around the back of his cavles and drove upward lifting him into the air before driving him into the ground with a text book double leg takedown.  Once he hit the grass I qucikly I attacked him with vicious ground and pound.  I reigned down elbows and forearms on his snout.  With him on his back he was clearly out of his element.  I dominated him on the ground as he worked to scramble from underneath of me.  My overconfidence in this position however got the best of me when I went for a choke hold.   The slickness of his coat mixed wit the morning due of the meadow made it difficult for me to get a firm grip on him and he rolled out of my grasp and jumped back up to his feet.  This sheep was experienced.

As he rose I rushed him again.  He set up quickly and was ready to throw another punch.  However, I could see the disorientation in his eyes.  My guess is that he never fought a wrestler before and had never spent any time on his back.  Clearly he wanted no part of my ground game.  I knew he was more confident standing so I had to play this one smart.  I engageded him quickly looking to lockup with him.  I figured I could out muscle him. Speed and agility were on his side but I knew it was unlikely that he spent any time in the weight room.  I intentionally telegraphed my forward movement trying to goat him (or should I say sheep him) into throwing an ill advised punch.  He did.  As I moved forward he set up to drop me with a powerful right cross.  I changed levels again to avoid the strike.  His hoof flew over my head and as I came back up I saw my opening.  I slid a half step to my left creating enough space for me to deleiver a killer left hook.  He never saw it coming.  I caught him flush behind the ear.  He was out as soon as I connected.  A splilt second later he was on the ground laying face down in the soft meadow.

I jumped up and raised my hands in victory like I had just knocked out Rampage Jackson.  The championship was mine....  But then I made a few horrible realizations...

1.  The sheep that I just knocked out was getting some sleep right now.  The whole purpose of this exercise in couting sheep was for ME to get some sleep.  Now I'm standing in some field in some unknown location having just battled a sheep... and I'm still awake...

But perhaps more importantly...

2.  I'm all by myself standing in this field in some unknown location surrounded by 4,499 angry sheep hell bent on getting some revenge for their fallen brother...

I turned to them... balled up my fist... and got ready.  These sheep are going down!  There would be no sleep that night...

RS

I am not one who condones violence (for the most part anyway) but let me say this…. The next person who tells me “If it doesn’t kill you it will make you stronger” is going to get beaten with a baseball bat without any evidence of mercy or remorse for an extended period of time. And after the aforementioned savage beating has been administered I am going to stand over them and wait for an hour before asking them how they feel. My guess is that they will in fact feel weaker than they did an hour before despite the fact that the beating did not kill them. To test my theory I will then drop a large filing cabinet on top of them to see if they can move it. If they cannot we will put this foolish saying to bed.

RS

I am no longer a QVC virgin. 

I was flipping through the channels when I just happened to stumble upon a the greatest channel EVER! 

What made me stop in my tracks was something so amazing, so cool, so awesome and fantastic that I will actually get around to telling you now.  It was a Brita.  But not your run of the mill Brita you find at your local grocer or CVS.  This Brita had a filter that screwed in, unlike it's predecessors. (demarking it's upgraded coolness)  It also has an electronic alert that tells you when it's time to change your filter.

I've included a small Brita commercial for you viewing pleasure.


BUT let me tell you what made me even consider it, in the first place.  They poured GREEN water into the filter and out came the clearest water I'd ever seen not on a postcard.  Out from that filter fell DIAMONDS I tell you.  I'd never seen clearer water as I did that evening while viewing on my (circa 1996) 13inch non-HD TV/VCR combo.

And the clincher.  I was ready... ready to make the jump.  But something was holding me back.  Yea that's right... they JUST added in another filter!  A thirty dollar value for FREE!  What!  But it still wasn't enough.  I still couldn't bring myself to purchase ... until...  I saw the small timer at the bottom of my screen.  It said I had 1:51 seconds to make a decision.  With just 45 seconds to go, I was on the phone. 

Turns out calling is a hassle.  I was just put on hold FOREVER, so I hung up but I got the same on-air deal online because I ordered it while it was still on air.   

So in 6-8 weeks I'll be getting the worlds foremost, top-of-the-line portable home water filtration system, delivered straight to my door. 

LB

I was at the local Cinnabun (conducting some research on cinnamon and it's varied uses) and while at the register (merely, getting some background information from the cashier) I heard two men in back of me talking about Cinnabun. 

Apparently, the one man had never tasted a Cinnabun before (of course, neither had I.  As I don't eat carbs anymore.)

So he asked, "What's the big deal, what do they taste like?"  His friend replied, "They taste like Jesus."

The answer borderlining on both sacrilege and cannibalism was still quite possibly the best description I had ever heard.  After that, how can you NOT buy one - so I did.  (Strictly for research purposes!)

LB

At 4:50am one morning I awoke to the sounds of someone knocking shit over in my living room. No way in hell that could possibly be happening, I thought, rolling back over.


At 4:52am I heard the same sounds again. Only this time it was much louder. And now I was wide awake and 100% sure someone other than me was in my house. The adrenaline overwhelmed me.

I sat up in bed with a big-ass smile and thought to myself “Hell yeah!” It’s about time! I’m about to fuck someone up!"

I had been waiting for years to have the opportunity to deliver the equivalent level of physical pain and suffering to someone that I had experience mentally and emotionally during the last thirty years.  If you’ve read a single story on this blog up to this point I’m sure you understand why the prospect of taking someone out might seem delightful to me.  Now was the time to put a stop to someone’s ability to walk upright and breathe. Some fool burglar picked the wrong house to fuck with and now a steep price would be paid.

I grabbed the tomahawk from under my bed. Yes, I have a tomahawk under my bed. Why you might ask? For times just like this! That’s why.

I slowly opened my bedroom door, and tip-toed down the hall. I heard the noise again, and realized what it actually was. There was no one inside of my home but rather someone outside of it. Someone was beating on my door. Disappointment shot through my body as I realized I would not be able to just run into the living room and detach their head from their body with my handcrafted Instrument of Mayhem. Who the hell would be beating on my door at 4:53 am? Doesn’t matter. This is the last door that they will ever knock on again…

I walked to the front door; my lethal weapon of doom in-hand. I yanked the door open; tomahawk concealed behind my back but still ready to strike.

Much to my surprise... it was the police...

Fuck!!!!

My tomahawk and jaw both hit the floor at the same time. My mind was working at 100 mph. I wasn’t ascertaining why the police were visiting this early in the morning. I was trying to figure out why the chance to bludgeon the skull of some poor unsuspecting burglar had just been stolen from me by Johnny Law. And why was he shining that flashlight in my face? Perhaps if I was to kill this dude, I would be justified and exonerated. Madness by light blindness seemed like a reasonable defence?

"Sir, your car alarm has been going off for over an hour, and the neighbors called us."

My car alarm is going off? Just then I realized that my car alarm was in fact going off. I don’t know how I missed the loud sound. Perhaps because I was too busy getting ready to commit murder, and call it self defense.

Long story short... something had tripped the alarm in the middle of the night (probably a stupid squirrel, or some such thing). After turning off the alarm and watching the cops climb in their car and drive away I picked up my tomahawk and walked sullen back to my bedroom, without having collected my kill.

God spends whole days laughing at me. Of this I am certain…

RS