Last Saturday I was sitting on the couch in my living room watching TV. From the corner of my eye I catch movement through the window. I see two Hispanic males wearing basketball jerseys and bandanas walking down my driveway from my back yard. What the hell! I watch as they get to the sidewalk, turn and then come up the walk to my front door.

Oh hell no! You do not come out of my back yard, and then have the nerve to walk up to my front door. Quickly I grabbed the first thing in reach, my blunderbuss. Okay, itÂ’s a primitive firearm, but all they see is a giant barrel. Most of the time people canÂ’t tell that itÂ’s not loaded or that it even requires black powder in the pan, the hammer cocked, a flint and the frizzen to be closed in order for it to fire.

With the blunderbuss over my shoulder I answer the door, “Can I help you with something.” These two teens are eyeing the beast slung over my shoulder with a mixture of “Oh Crap” and “Dude, that’s cool!” looks on their faces. Kind of nervously, one of the teenagers says, “We are with the local church. We are having a picnic next Saturday for everyone in the neighborhood. We wanted to personally invite you and your family to come and join in the festivities. There will be food, drinks and games for everyone. Here’s a flyer. Do you think you’ll be able to come?”

I flip that blunderbuss off my shoulder and level at the kid’s head. “GET THE FARK OFF MY PROPERTY YOU BIBLE THUMPIN’ DOOR BELL PUSHER! I HAVE HALF A MIND TO SMEAR YOUR BRAIN ALL OVER YOUR BUDDY STANDING BEHIND YOU! YOU HAVE UNTIL THE COUNT OF THREE AND THEN I’LL FILL YOU SO FULL OF LEAD, YOU CAN USE YOUR DICK AS A PENCIL!*” These two kids jump off the porch and run like their arse is on fire and their hair was a catchin’. One of the boys was running so fast ran right out of his sneakers. The other tripped and fell since his droopy pants fell down around his ankles.

And then my brain kicked in and decided to not do any of the above thinking it would have ended up with me in jail. I politely explained that I was not going to be available to attend; I have a Raptors game that night! Give up football for ChurchÂ… What kind of sacrilege is that?

*I loved that line in the Three Amigos. I try to use it when ever it can be applied properly.

Posted by: Contagion at 12:30 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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ItÂ’s Harvey of Bad ExampleÂ’s three year blogging anniversary. As he is part of the unholy trinity that begat my blogging career, I feel the need to share a story about Harvey. Of course itÂ’s not about how I was begat, the statute of limitations arenÂ’t up and I believe all three parties are still in relative good terms with their spouses.

Back in the dark ages, about 1 BC (Before Contagion) I used to roam the Internet, a lost soul leaving comments on various blogs, but never entertaining the thought of starting my own. Then one day I received an e-mail from someone I didnÂ’t recognize. I really wished I had saved the message at it touched me deeply, but I do remember what it said.

“Hey, if you’re going to soil my blog with your comments, why don’t you get off your whisky soaked butt and actually start your own. You can’t be much worse then half the crap that is out there on Myspace. Well, then again you might. Anyway, I’m off topic here. You should at least start something so that we can reciprocate your comments by ignoring you.” --Harvey

I paraphrased a little, but that pretty much was like that. So away I went and started Miasmatic Review. Being a novice at blogging and he would actually return my e-mails, unlike the other two parts of the unholy trinity that I think have pretty much disavowed any knowledge of their part in bringing me into the blogging world, IÂ’d ask him for advice on how to do various thingsÂ… like set up trackbacks. That and his wonderful blogging tips actually kept me from making a lot of unnecessary faux pas, as opposed to the necessary ones that I made on my own.

Move forward a couple of months and I was advised of a blogmeet and had heard that Mr. Bad Example himself was going to be there. Oh glory of day! How could I pass up a chance to meet the man that inspired, motivated, coerced and assisted me in starting to blog? I vowed by all that is good and right in the world that I would be at this blogmeet, no matter what!

Upon arrival I instantly knew who he was. Not because of how he looked, or his mannerisms. It was because I heard him ask a waitress, “So, if you where going to start a blog, what would you call it?” As I walked to the table, he stood up to great me. It was like he was psychic; I’d never met him before, yet he knew who I was. Was it that paternal bond? Could it be his ever presence in the blogosphere gave him the ability to look through monitors? Could it be that his stalker like tendencies caused him to look up pictures of me, the mass abundance of them, on the Internet. He walked up and said, “You must be Contagion. I would recognize that spiky hair anywhere.” Then he proceeded to shake my hand and show me to a chair at the table. He took the liberty of introducing me to all of the other bloggers at the table. With cigars and whisky, he made me feel comfortable and welcomed. It was like I was a long lost son coming home.

Things got a little weird when he started referring to me as his boy and tried to hug me a couple of times, but I explained how I don’t hug and he stopped. Then, when the others weren’t paying attention, he said to me, “I have problem and I’m going to need your assistance. I feel you are the perfect person to help me with this task.” I was awestruck. He actually wanted my assistance. Me, a blogging newbie that had yet to make his mark in the blogosphere. (and still hasn’t). I couldn’t wait to hear what he could possibly want. Eagerly I agreed to help.

I asked, “What is it you want me to do?”

He leans closer, lips inches from my ear and yells. “GET OFF MY LAP YOU DRUNK! YOU HAVE YOUR OWN DAMN CHAIR!”

Posted by: Contagion at 08:33 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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1 Bahahahaha!!

Posted by: Richmond at June 22, 2006 03:34 PM (e8QFP)

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The facial hair is coming in nicely. My mustache now covers my bottom lip. It looks a little ragged, until I start eating. Then the food works as a styling agent to help hold it in place. Ktreva finds that rather disgusting, but hey it works. Plus I discovered last Saturday at the Raptors game that if I drink good beer before going to the game. The filtering process makes the cheep beer taste like the good beer. Bonus!

I finally had someone at work question the bushiness of my face, or in their words, “Why is there a dead squirrel on your face?” I explained that I’m a re-enactor and I’m trying to get period facial hair, that and the fact that Ktreva forbid me from growing it, so now I must in order to preserve my male dominance in the house… well at least on this topic.

IÂ’d post a picture, but many of you have politely requested I not do so anymore as it scared you. IÂ’m just trying to be politeÂ… this time.

Posted by: Contagion at 06:38 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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I still haven’t trimmed the facial hair. It’s starting to grow pretty bushy. I’ve been combing it daily so it won’t look as bushy. Upon her arrival home Ktreva uttered the phrase, “I was really hoping you where going to trim that up before I got home.”

Not going to happen. At this rate, by the time my next event comes along you wonÂ’t be able to see my mouth through the mustache.

Posted by: Contagion at 06:36 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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There’s a commercial for EPT that just makes me laugh. There is a lady walking, and she is thinking to herself, “I can’t concentrate, I wonder if I’m pregnant.” This strikes me as highly amusing. I mean, c’mon lets face it, the commercial is actually saying, “My brain doesn’t work, I wonder if I’ve got a bun in the oven?” only slightly more sensitively.

I’ve latched onto this theory with gusto. Every time Ktreva says, “I forgot” or when she does something with out thinking, I ask her, “Hun, are you pregnant? You’re brain’s stopped working.” I was at work and one of my peers actually said, “I can’t concentrate.” Since this was an office and work environment, I had to be more sensitive about how I phrased my question, so I shot out with, “According to the EPT commercial that means you might be pregnant.”

I’m not sure what was funnier the emphatic denial of, “I had better not be pregnant” or the worried look I received. You know, the look that tells a person “Crap, that MAY be what the problem is.” She left work in a hurry yesterday; kind of like her arse was on fire and her hair was catching. This morning she informs me that she is definitely not pregnant. She sure did look relieved.

Posted by: Contagion at 03:42 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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