Trudging Through No Man's Land

Zach Houston 2???
Originally uploaded by link5001.

The above photo is from the birthday celebration last weekend....or the weekend before, can't quite remember just now...
Anyway it proves more and more that Joey looks like Zach. For those of you that don't know Zach...I'm sorry.

The midsummer blues have hit, but not too hard. The talent show is tomorrow and contrary to what my sister may tell you on her blog, there will be no slideshow in it, as of right now. i'm sure one could be thrown together if need be but I'm saving all of my super powers for the end of the year show.

I think that every day I lose about 3 minutes of sleep time and that means I'm official about 4 hours deprived of sleep every morning now. I was trying to study my Bible this morning and every time I would look at it, my eyes would start rolling back into my head. Needless to say, there shall be a great napping on the hall on this day and all those asleep shall see it and say, "It is good."
It would be a crying shame to waste an entire afternoon on napping if it weren't so derned blessed blah looking out there anyway. I mean really! It's an Island, is there not supposed to be bright, beautiful sunrays shining down at all times? I'll use my cosmic breath to blow away the clouds sometime, and everyone will either thank me or die as a result, depending on if I've had and Doritos.
Speaking of Doritos I was reading the other day that Saddam Hussein absolutely LOVES Nacho Cheesier Doritos. Of course, he was initially hooked on Cheetos, but when they ran out he discovered his new love for America's glorious breath-killing snack.
You know what this tells me? Being fabulously wealthy ain't all it's cracked up to be. You know before he was captured and put in this horrid prison where they give you free Doritos (how do I get in this place) he was eating freshly prepared roast Wooly mammoth or some other crazy rare and delicious dish. Little did he know that Frito-Lay was where it was at. Can you imagine if he somehow regained power now? Iraq would be totally different. They'd have a new national food and there would be giant Dorito statues up in the city squares. They'd probably even get their own flavor eventually like...Oasis Tastes or Cooler Camel
Bottom line is that America should start shipping them over there now. If Saddam liked them, so will others. I'm willing to bet a tortilla chip could be the answer to peace in the middle-east.

Yes, I do have a spider-friend named Larry that built a web at the foot of my bunk. He now lives outside, but we keep in touch.

Freshly Returned from the Depths of the Bog

Every day I get a little more close to Mother Hatch. This evening I got closer than ever. I'm glad I'm not claustrophobic because Mr.Denning had me crawl in the amazingly small space under the stage to shake loose a mic plug. There were a couple of dust Elephants but aside from that I emerged unscathed.

Nothing new to report, but if you need something to read....get the Bible. It's fun.

Holla Back!

So, In Reality, She Just Marinated Your Sneakers?

Lamest. Thing. Ever.

This weekend I had planned on doing one of the coolest things ever. What is that cool thing you might ask? Why I was going to see Batman Begins, which I've heard is the finest of the Batman films. My bat-fan friend Matt happened to enjoy it so much that he saw it three times opening day. Sad isn't it? Unfortunately fate, it seems, has decided to fall in suite with it's normal decisions for me and shoot my dream of happiness into tiny bits of poo. I just found out that on lovely Saturday, the staff will be forced, like lambs to the slaughter, to go to a shagging party.

Now ask most any girl on staff how she feels about this lovely event and she will surely tell you how much she's looking forward to it. Sadly the same cannot be said for most of the males.

To me there is no redeeming quality to the little jig. I suppose it's great for those that can do it eloquently but as for the rest of us we end up looking like 80 year olds shuffling around like broken records. It's like the person that invented the dance intentionally made it to facilitate tripping on stuff.
In addition to it making us lookso stupid, what about the music that you use to dance to it? It's all dated stuff with simple beats and usually mindlessly simplistic and shallow lyrics! There isn't a moment of my life when I'm listening to "I love Beach Music" or "Carolina Girls" that I don't wish there was a fiery comet, screaming towards Earth to bring me sweet relief.

I'd estimate 79% of all shagging takes place between two girls. I also have a theory as to why. I don't think most males can stomach the dance for more than 30 seconds. After that, whatever they ate that day would come up all over the girl. For those males that can do the dance, though I don't understand you, I salute you. You are brave men that see the huge gaping opportunity to meet and mingle with the seemingly endless amounts of girls looking for a shag partner. If you can tame your stomach that well, you deserve whatever you get from dancing with them. GOOD LUCK!

So, who wants to know how I really feel about shagging?
HA!

Anyway, yeah, I have to give up Batman to watch, and possibly (though I dare breath it aloud) be forced to dance with some girl possessed by the shagging devil. I never knew my life would come to this, this shame. Maybe somewhere deep down, the dark knight will find it in his heart to forgive me.

When life throws you lemons, put a grenade in them, pull the pin, and throw it back at life! Tee Hee heeeee

In the Crosshairs of Richard Neihmi

If Christianity were easy, everyone would do it!

Unfortunatly, those that have no intention of living the life of a Christian, still call themselves Christians and it makes the faith look bogus. This is what I say to those people!!!!

I love you, please stop acting that way for the better good of yourself as well as the whole.

Because that's the Christian response of course. Listening to Adrian Depres last week (for the second week in a row) really helped me come to the realization that a the large majority of "the church" is very likely just as lost as the non churched. I am guilty, as is every true Christian, of falling from what God wishes for me but if you're a Christian, you're doing things that are obviously deemed as bad by the faith, and you don't feel that bad about them, you aren't actually a Christian.

Holy spirit baby...keeps you in check and is the branch of the trinity that fills you with God's intent for your life. It comes standard with salvation so, one of the best ways to tell if you're really saved or not is to see if you feel bad about doing bad things...
...
or are you still rationalizing them to yourself or to your friends.

Another surefire sign is to look at your "fruit." What is fruit? Anything that happens as a response to something you've done. Everyone has this fruit. If your fruit is good, shows that you are building people up, helping one another, keeping your heart pure, etc. etc. Then you're doing well. But if negativity abounds in what comes of you, or if your good fruit is only good fruit for you (things you do to make yourself feel better) then you could be in trouble.

A true Christian is someone who is radically different from the norm of the world. One of those people that others look and and go..."Grief! He's strange. Who would talk to a stranger like that, who thinks that way, who acts that way?" I'm just sorry that I'm too big of a loser to step up the way I wish I could. Turn your eyes...turn your eyes...

Lemonades for my Men, All the Way Around!

Thats Special
Originally uploaded by link5001.

Spectacular news for people that like to read my blog. You can read the blog of my new caswell counterpart (man I love alliteration!) Jacob Jackson. Just click on this link right here to be taken to thingsareinteresting.blogspot.com. Good stuff I say! Good stuff indeed!

For some odd reason after I woke up and got to the cafe this morning for breakfast, I found myself singing the word "sausage" to the tune of "Thriller." Ironic considering the whole Michael Jackson junk went down just yesterday. Before you dismiss me, once again, for being a complete idiot I urge you...just try it. Soon you too will experience the joy of what I now call, Thriller Sausage Song.

"Su-su-su-SAUSAGE! SAA-AUUU-SAGE."

Now I'm going to string into my post, the topic of Jacob's most recent post.
Clones.
You see, we got started on the subject yesterday at lunch when someone made the comment of not wanting to go to work and I suggested they make a clone, with a 24 hour life span, to take their place. The only problems would be that:
(1) You couldn't let the clone see you because it would then know it was a clone, and go on a crazy spree.
and
(2)Body disposal.
Alarmingly enough, the cute and harmless looking girl I happened to make this suggestion to seemed to have confidence in her ability to do just that. My hope is that it doesn't come from experience.

While clones could certainly be useful for stopping tornados, world hunger, and poverty, I think they would best be suited for the occupation of "Wal*Mart Greeter." I don't know, but wouldn't it be great to have a clone put a smily sticker on you when you go shopping. I just got chills thinking about it.

Perhaps an even better job for clones would be in the army. The army could clone the actual army and do some crazy stuff...like run screaming into the terrorist nest and then laughing at the pansy terrorists afterwards like "HA, those were just the clones....BOOM!"

Two drastically different occupations for clones but I think if you look closely you'll find that they really are similar in many respects.

According to Kyle, Hobbits built the tables in the cafe just after milking the maple syrup for our pancakes from the wood!

Disproving Evolution, Time and Time Again

Baseball is one of those things I have to say is more fun to play than it ever could be to watch. It takes a patient person to sit through an entire game. I mean, really, there is only so much of that slow paced action I can take without risking drowning in a puddle of my own drool. It may be America's pastime but it takes too much time to pass. Thankfully I'm here to offer up some thrilling adjustments that could be made to the game in order to broaden it's audience.
One such change would be to pitch a different ball to every batter...now the catch is that one in 300 balls is packed with a high explosive. I'd sit through a boring game, no matter how slow, for that.
Another cool change would be if the bases were actually sentient little robots that moved around as they pleased. Who says that bases should always remain in a perfect diamond? You know what, if third base feels like walking out of the stadium and down to the corner deli. who are we to stop it? Take it to the streets! I want to see someone slide into second in a phone booth, or pick up a Gatorade on the way back from being called out.
Another helpful adjustment would be the reduction of the game to 6 innings and the addition of a 3 minute dance break in-between each one. All of the players hit the field and tear it up, with glow sticks and whatnot. That would definitely give everyone a much needed tension release.

One day, my childhood dream of a Chocolate Milk fountain will not only be realized, but will surely take the place of all the world's existing water fountains!

Surviving on a Diet of Cheese Sticks

Party of Four
Originally uploaded by link5001.

Do we want to harmlessly walk over him or use the burning/stinging stuff? Yeah you're right, let's burn 'em!

I heard last year that when the fort was dug up next to Hatch they found pieces of the draw bridge and cannonballs and whatnot. That's kind of cool but it would have been better if they'd found someone's skeleton, or a mass grave or something.
It makes me really wish I could take a shovel to the mounds and see what I could find. Of course, I'd probably end up being more concerned that something would crack and pile 40 tons of brick on me than I would about finding a rusty door hinge or something. Someone really needs to do something about the condition of those ruins.

This weekend we had the cookout at Holbie's and that was all happy, at least it was until I was attacked by a small battalion of fire ants. Now I can better sympathize with my cousin, Steve-O, who also suffers from the occasional attack of a communist sect of ants. These ants, however, are more aggressive and bite the pee-tar out of you. So far two people on staff have been severely attacked (close to the point of being taken to the hospital) by these fire ants. I was hit by 3 and thought I was going down in a glorious ball of itching pain. Thankfully, Mr. Jeffcoat is taking Special Projects on an anti-ant raid with some spray killer stuff. It won't be soon enough for me!

I currently have an enormous headache in my eye.

Such a Good Dream, Broken by Techno

Evil, evil fly.

On my trek to work every morning I cross a large grassy field. That field is home to many various species of biting bug. One such bug is none other than the annoying horse fly. There is one reason I really hate horseflies more than any other type of biting bug and that is the fact that, like many people I've encountered in my life, they can't take a hint.
So it starts biting me and I smack at it, didn't kill it, but nearly. You'd think it would buzz off somewhere to lick or spit or whatever it is that bugs do, its wounds. Not the case. Ten yards later it's still flying around my head so I do the only thing a self respecting hater of horse flies can do....I ran. More out of annoyance than anything else I ran at a good clip to lose it and then slowed back down. A few seconds later....it was back!
This time I took off at a full sprint thinking, surly this will leave my aggressor in the wind. Then, out of morbid curiosity, I turned around to find the foul beast hovering just behind my head and back AS I RAN. I'm sure I made for a comical spectacle as I shot across an open field at a good pace flailing my arms about me, every which way. Thankfully I made it to the doors of Hatch in time to slam it on him and escape, but WHEW! What the crap was that? Some bugs need to get a life or something.

I shall name it, the Nastyscicle! Most disgusting of ALL popsicles!

My Uncle Drives a Mud Truck for a Living

For those of you who don't know, I work in a large auditorium at a Christian camp for the summer as the A/V guy as well an all around problem solver for the praise and worship team and the campers that come here.

Now that we've all caught up I present to you....

....Top Ten things to do in Hatch Auditorium when you've completed all of your work tasks and have ABSOLUTELY nothing to do:

10. Stare at Rachel Hatch's creepy portrait in the lobby until you get dizzy.
9. Count how many LED lights are on the sound boards and racks in the A/V booth.
8. Stack the toilet paper in the bathrooms in such a was as to confuse and delight it's visitors.
7. Watch and memorize the various similar forms of "preacher mannerisms."
6. Constantly rearrange the useless furniture.
5. Drool
4. Lay on a pew and slowly drag yourself across it using only your arm.
3. Do everything you've been putting off for the entirety of your life and then make some Ramen Noodles
2. Read a horrifically boring book about George Washington.
1. Get a tight shot of the congas and project them on the big screen.

Proud member of the "Save the Lounge" group.

Foaming at the Mouth Like a Shriner with a Fire Bomb

A Couple 'O Nice Congas
Originally uploaded by link5001.

...throw down monkey, I ain't foldin' on that.

My smooth criminal side shown through last night as I challenged Patrick "B Swaze", Curtis "E. Flush" and Josh "smellson Nelson" to a ruthless game of poker. Now, don't get me wrong, I wouldn't have played had money been involved, because I'm just that poor, but when they threw empty chips at me my heart melted and I had to play. You see, I love nothing more than the clink of poker chips. I pretty much just clink my chips around while everyone else gets into the game.
We played tournament style and Curtis was the first to go broke, followed soon thereafter by Patrick. It ended in a hour and fifteen stalemate between Josh and I. Just for the record though, I had far more chippage when we had to quit.

So apparently I'm a mean poker punk. I plan to use my powers for good, however, by donating all of my fake winnings to various charities. Aren't I kindhearted?

Someone needs to mow the parade ground for serious. The moisture on the grass is getting my shoes all misted and wet.