Friday, January 30, 2009

Siren calling me to your cloaca - m4w

Siren calling me to your cloaca,
Lungs and gills in the same slender body
Breathing and sucking.
I lied about shopping at Whole Foods.
I don't shop there,
But I wanted to impress you.
In reality, I’ve only been there once.
We can shop there if you'd like,
But I'll need it explained.
You do drive a silver/gray Jeep,
You little hellbender.
Don’t leave me in the mud.

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Colonel Ebirt

I did not know that:

Colonel Ebirt was the unofficial school mascot for The College of William & Mary from 2001—2005. An asexual amorphous green blob that donned a tri-corner hat,
Colonel Ebirt was originally used as a promotional tool for Colonial Williamsburg. It became involved with the College athletics program when someone from the William & Mary gymnastics program volunteered to wear the costume.‘’Ebirt’’ is "Tribe" spelled backwards, and Colonel comes from the school’s historical and geographical ties to Williamsburg, Virginia, specifically that of Colonial Williamsburg.

The athletic department decided to "retire" Ebirt upon the conclusion of the 2005-06 school year. There is current deliberation about what or who, if any, mascot is to replace Ebirt.

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

RE: Let's Try This Again

I saw your post, but I didn't want to reply. Now I do. (I wrote a poem about a salamander). If your still interested, let me know. Otherwise, no big deal. I don't shop at Whole Foods.

Friday, January 23, 2009

Fate - I was hungry, you were hungry

Fate is an animal you were at the Whole Foods yesterday. First you went to produce. You got bananas but I couldn’t see what else because my phone rang and the reception is not good in produce. Dreams of a time when we are free to truly love. I saw you again in canned goods. You like tuna (or have a cat). I was intently reading the beets can when you passed by. I didn’t dare look at you, but I kind of blocked your way for a second hoping you would introduce yourself. You didn’t, but that is ok. The fluorescent lighting seemed strangely romantic. Is it always like that or was it my heart gazing through my eyes? You got toilet paper and some other products that I won’t mention from the feminine hygiene aisle. We’ll just keep that between us as our little secret. You got the single serving frozen pizzas. That is when I knew that I was right - this was magic. You drive a newer silver/gray Jeep with an Obama bumper sticker and child car seats. Perhaps you own a daycare. That is alright, I am sure you have a wild side too. Like a wild kitten. I’ll be your dragon-slayer.

I'll let you know what response I get.

Missed Connections

People post "Missed Connections" notes to random other people on Craigslist. eg. Looking for girl I met in Chicago, August 2008 - m4w - 30 (Pasadena) or Beautiful TALL African-American Queen at Trader Joe's 2nite - m4w (Manchester & Sepulveda) In the unlikely event that the other person happens to find the post amongst the millions or perhaps billions of possible webpages, the hope is that the other will be inspired to contact an unknown idiot who just might be the man/woman/transgender of his/her/transgender's dreams.

I know this seems ridiculously futile, but it must be working or else why would so many people be doing it? So, I thought I'd begin my own little "Missed Connections" here at FU. I realize that a person is slightly less likely to find my post here than at Craigslist, but when you are talking about such miniscule odds anyway, what does it matter? This is the same rationale by which, instead of playing the lottery, I spend my money on bottles of beer in hopes that one will contain an accidentally captured mouse.

Tall guy in elevator at Courthouse - Yesterday at Courthouse, elevator going up, you farted. Then, elevator stopped, you exited and others entered and thought it was me. You should post a Missed Connections confession letting them know that it was you and not me who smelled so foul. Also, cut down on the boiled cabbage in your diet.

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Diabolos likes Sand. And long, straight pavement.


After a couple of weeks of pure evil and intimidation, dark whispers and booming deep voices, I decided to take the BatMobile to the desert.

It is there that the BatMobile and I have come to a new understanding and level of mutual tolerance.

Saturday, January 17, 2009

Change Your Bunderwear

Bratwurstundsauerkraut (fka OneNotesolO) has been complaining in private correspondence about the quality of the posts here at Rusty Never Sleeps - Official Site of the First Unichurck. Recall that he was invited to be a contributor, but, to the best of my recollection, he has failed to post even one item. When we had an election last year for a new FU Chancellor, DorkBok went so far as to rig the voting in B.'s favor. The sword of leadership passed to Bunderwear, but he has yet to take his rightful place seated upon it.


Who is this fellow with such contradictory impulses relating to the success of our mission? Thank you for asking. Thus, we recall the story of Bratwurstundsauerkraut as remembered, inferred, and downright imagined by your hero and mine, me.


Bratwurstundsauerkraut, or Bratty as he was then known, was born a small child and remained that way for several years. He then enrolled at the College of William and Mary in Williamsburg, Virginia in the year of our lord, 1986.


The admissions bureaucrats at William and Mary are not very adept at choosing students of high, or even moderate, moral character or intelligence. Witness the fact that I was admitted, sight unseen, despite the fact that I wore a mullet hairstyle and listened to 80's hard rock and hadn't read a single book assigned to me during my Senior high school year (unless you count Cliff's Notes). Compared to me, B. was Euro-fabulous, and I don't mean that in a good way.


Although admissions personnel obviously lacked the ability to recognize quality students, they were outstanding at recognizing freaks and in quarantining them together at an outpost dormitory on the edge of campus. It was here that I first met Bunderwear where he, DorkBok, and I all lived on the second floor of Hunt Hall. Alceste and Coco were below us.


Hunt Hall was a three floor dorm situated on the edge of campus in unique proximity, we would come to learn, to the Campus Police Station. The first two floor's residents were all males whereas the third floor was all ladies. This situation was contrived to force the first two floors to fight against each other for the affections of the third floor. Since this was in the days prior to situational "reality" shows which manufacture conflict and embarrassment for purposes of mass entertainment, I'm not sure why this little experiment was undertaken. Nonetheless, quite naturally, Bunderwear, DorkBok and I and about 15 others on the "Upper Tier" became natural allies against Alceste, Coco and the "Ground-levelers."


Bunderwear lived in a triple with two other guys - Melonhead and Rice&2BBs Someone Else. Melonhead was called Melonhead because his enormous head had the approximate volume of a large melon. Rice&2BBs was called rice and 2 bee bees for obvious reasons. Someone Else was someone else who I don't remember and don't feel like researching because, presumably, one of the other Clowns will fill in the gaps. These three roommates were the moderates on our floor - relatively athletic but not "athletes;" relatively drunk but not "alcoholics;" relatively studious but not "students." They did entirely cover the walls in their room with stacked empty cans of Busch beer. This was a bold move because we were all under-aged and not permitted by either the law or the College to possess alcohol. Of course, their cans were empty. Theirs being one of the larger rooms, and because they had constructed a sleeping loft, they had a large seating area which was useful to all of us for playing drinking games including quarters, chandeliers, bizz-buzz, asshole, war, name game, shotgun, thumper, and up the river, down the river to name a few (this was before the advent of beer pong). They also had a beer bong that Melonhead constructed and which was freely and unhygienically shared.


Sophomore year, Bunderwear moved with Alceste, Colyp, DorkBok and a couple of other guys out to an off-campus apartment complex together. There were two different apartments, but I can't recall who officially lived with whom because there was a lot of overlap. This was a typical college sophomore guys year filled with pizza boxes, drunken escapades, and the occasional girlfriend.

At some point in time, either freshman or sophomore year, we all began playing the guitar(s). We all wanted to become white kids who could strum 3 or perhaps even 4 chords on an acoustic guitar so that we could WOW chicks with our sensitive yet dangerous nature(s). I had acquired an old acoustic guitar freshman year from my girlfriend. B., as well as one of my roommates, we'll call him WeirdEar, soon followed suit by actually buying or having gifted to them acoustic guitars. We would jam out for hours playing Knockin On Heaven's Door and many other songs that sounded surprisingly similar to Knockin on Heaven's Door.

Recall the trip during Spring Break to Naples, Florida. One of our hallmates, we'll call him AppleBWood, had a family friend who owned a condo in the quiet little town of Naples, Florida. Somehow, AppleB made the mistake of inviting about 10 of us to vacation there with him. WeirdEar, myself, and I'm pretty sure Bunderwear was there, insisted on serenading our group using our newly-acquired guitar skills and our not-acquired singing skills. The first night in Naples, one of the neighbors introduced himself by saying, "Y'all need to knock off that racket. It wouldn't be so bad if you didn't keep playing the same damn song." That "same damn song" would later become a hit for none other than Bob Dylan who had recorded it 20 years earlier. And now you know the rest of the story.

I don't recall where Bunderwear lived Junior year, but it may have been at the same place.

(Details fuzzy)

Senior year, however, they got a "Lodge." The Lodges were, and probably still are, the most valuable campus dorm facilities at William and Mary. Somehow, one of the guys befriended someone who had a high lottery number and DorkBok, Alceste, and Bunderwear landed spots at Lodge 5 (now demolished). I can't recall how many people officially lived there, but Coco and I spent at least as much time there as any of them. Coco officially lived in an off-campus shack and I lived at a fraternity house for a fraternity in which I was not a member. However, we often found it more convenient to simply stay where we had passed out which often turned out to be the couch or floor of Lodge 5.


Bunderwear was an unremarkable student. I think he "studied" German and/or history, but don't quote me on that. He did have several books in his room. From my vantage point, I would say he remained steadily moderate in his alcohol and drug use, studies, fornication and other habits. Of course, that is all relative.
....

To be continued

(Don't worry Bunderwear, I'm not going to go into the time that you and that one person did that one thing or the time that you and that other person did not "technically" do that thing but did do that other thing. Some things are better left un-blogged).

Friday, January 09, 2009

Missed Calling

You've probably already seen this montage of Winnebago promotional video out-takes discovered by the Found Footage project, but I ran across it again yesterday, and it always reminds me of Alceste. Please enjoy the Angriest RV Salesman in the World



Vote for your favorite moment:

A) :30 - (can't speak, arms waving)
B) 1:16 - "No more bullshit... if anybody is yelling then the shit is gonna hit the fan."
C) 2:35 - "Get out of here you god damned jack-ass (fly)."


Monday, January 05, 2009

Friday, January 02, 2009

New Beginnings

I'm taking this blog in a new direction. We need something of more substance - more gravitas - more ingravesco.

So, from now on, we only explore the heavier subjects. No more expositions on heaven, hell, the end of days, or camel toes. No reminders about the amount of spending and borrowing or the concept of indentured servitude.

Now, we get serious.

It is on!