January 31, 2006
IÂ’ll vouch for her, sheÂ’s helped me with HTML, kept me occupied while drunk inebriated, and has entertained me with her humor.
I think IÂ’m reaching the end of my vouchers. Harvey may end up revoking my rights and privileges (yes, there are some) of being a member of the Bad Example Family.
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IÂ’ve met both of these bloggers and IÂ’m traveling in about three weeks down to the Wolf Park to visit again. I think both of them would fit just fine into the Bad Example Clan.
Now we just have to see if my vouching for someone is a help or a hindrance. I mean I see bloggers asking other BE Family members to vouch for them, butthe don't approach me. I know, it's because I'm shy and they don't want to scare me.
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January 30, 2006
This is a good thing, I would hate to have to beg people to vouch for me. I think IÂ’d end up sitting in the corner all by myself smearing lipstick on my face while I wrote names on my list. Well okay I wouldnÂ’t do that because A) I could never find a shade of lipstick I liked, er wait I mean IÂ’d never wear lipstick. 2) Writing a list just sounds like work D) IÂ’d probably be too drunk to write.
(ItÂ’s a joke people; I donÂ’t wear lipstick nor make listsÂ… Really, I donÂ’t!)
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January 27, 2006
Now I'm going to go play with clone and see how much damage I can do while drinking. Remember, when I drink and play with clone... history lessons are taught.
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A couple of weeks ago she informed me she needed new jeans. Off she went and bought three pairs. I didnÂ’t think anything of it. She had been wearing them around and they looked good on her. Between you and me, there is nothing sexier then a woman in a tight pair of jeans. The way it enhances her womanly figure just gets my motor running. The curve of the hips, the swell of bottom, and the roundness of the legs are all enough to drive me wild. IÂ’d rather have a woman with a good behind in tight jeans then a big-breasted woman. I guess IÂ’m weird that way. And no hip huggersÂ… they destroy the natural beauty that is woman. Hip huggers through off the natural lines and curves of a female.
Sorry, got off track there, back to my point. Ktreva is walking around in her new jeans looking good. I couldnÂ’t help myself, winding up and with the back of my hand; I let a playful slap to her bottom go. OUCH!!!!! I pull my hand back and it feels like something stung my finger. A white spot has formed on one of my fingernails where I hit. I look closer at her new jeans and realized something; she has beads all over the pockets of her jeans!
I thought they where just decorative little designs, nope these are metal studs sewn through out the back pockets in a design. She armored her arse!!! Her butt was firm before, but now itÂ’s a tank! (Hard, not the size of!) ItÂ’s an impenetrable fortress against groping, pinching and smacking! UNFAIR!
Ktreva of course is laughing about the whole thing. I’m nursing my now bruised fingers and trying to shake the sting out. She’s laughing at me. Apparently, there is humor in my pain for her. All I can think is “Denied my husbandly right to play grab arse with my wife.”
So let this be a lesson to you guys, look before you smack. Apparently, they are marketing Armor Arse jeans to the women folk out there.
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January 26, 2006
Someone (I believe it was Tammi but I could be wrong) said we should call Army Wife Toddler Mom. In my alcohol soaked brain, this sounded like an excellent idea. Unfortunately we didn’t have a way to do it. Wait…. I have a cell phone, if I only had her number. At that point someone (I believe T1G, but I could be wrong) said “I have her number, it’s ###-###-####” (Except there where numbers and not the number symbol.)
I quickly call her up on the most hated of all electronic devices I own and precede to talk to her for a whole 5 minutes. Then we played pass the cell phone to all the bloggers. 45 minutes later and half a drained battery I get it back. ItÂ’s hot to the touch from all the bloggers that have been holding it to their head. (Yes when I got home I hit it with Clorox wipes) I put it away and didnÂ’t think twice about, until the next day.
IÂ’m at work, and my cell phone rings. The ringer on my phone is the MP3 of Foo FighterÂ’s Best of You, and it is loud. IÂ’m fumbling through my coat trying to get to it. WeÂ’re not supposed to have cell phones on at work and I had forgotten to turn it off. I look at the caller ID and donÂ’t recognize the number. IÂ’m thinking someone has a wrong number, not just because I didnÂ’t recognize the number, but also because no one calls me on my cell phone.
Upon answering the phone I have this conversation:
Contagion, “Hello”
Caller, “Hey, it’s me.”
Contagion, “uh… who’s me?”
Caller, “Army Wife Toddler Mom”
Contagion, “I’m at work, this isn’t a good time.”
AWTM, “T1G?”
Contagion, “No… This is Contagion.”
AWTM, “Oh, I thought this was T1G. I thought you called on his cell phone.”
Contagion, “No, I called you on my call phone.”
AWTM, “Well this is what you get for drunk dialing! I didn’t want to talk to you!”
And then she promptly hung up on me.
The moral of this story is: If youÂ’re going to drunken dial, use someone elseÂ’s phone. If you donÂ’t the people you called will hit redial at the most inopportune times.
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January 23, 2006
The voice went on to say, “Contagion, how could you plan to go shooting with out inviting your old friend?”
Contagion: “But, Grau, you’re deader then a doornail. It’s not like I could just call you up in the otherworld and invite you.”
Grau: “You mean like I’m calling you now? We dead have phones too you know. We just choose not to use them, much like you.” (Remember Grau is dead so read his parts with a spooky ghost like voice in your head!)
Contagion: “Oh hadn’t thought of that. Anyways, if I had invited you, it’s not as if you could have gone. You’ve been mostly dead for two weeks. You can’t hold a gun in ghost form.”
Grau: “In order to burn powder and throw lead I would re-animate my body and come back as a zombie to shoot.”
Contagion: “You do remember I have an unnatural hatred of zombies? In fact, I have plans on what to do in case zombies rise from the ground. Plus you smelled bad enough before, I don’t want to think of what two weeks of rot on top of it would smell like.”
Grau: “Shite, I forgot about that zombie issue you have, AND I DIDN’T SMELL WHEN I WAS ALIVE! Well, just get over your hatred of zombies for one day… and I’ll wear something that doesn’t stink.” (It’s not remotely amusing if you’re not reading Grau’s parts in a spooky ghost voice!)
Contagion: “No promises, but okay as long as you bring the Colt 1991 .45. If you don’t have that, then all bets are off. I’ll turn your skull into a candy dish!”
Grau: “Deal! I’ll meet you there.”
When Wes and I arrived there was no signs of an uprising or the dead walking the earth so we sat down and started shooting. Shortly after, in walks GrauÂ’s surprisingly well preserved corpse. He brought with him his .44 mag and the mandated .45.
During a shooting break, we all had a chance to talk. Grau said he had two choices; he could have fixed his blog or gone shooting. He deciding that shooting was more important, however he was going to blame me for him not updating his blog. Sure, blame me I didnÂ’t force that gun into his hand!
Most of the time there I spent trying to get the sites adjust on my pistol. Unfortunately, I didnÂ’t have the correct tools to do it. I think IÂ’m just going to have to pay a gunsmith to site it in for me. I went through 500 rounds trying to site it and I was just not getting the sweet spot. My clusters werenÂ’t horrible, just not in the right area.
After a couple of hours, the powers needed to re-animate his corpse took its toll on him. He had to leave; now this was at 2:30. After drive time and all he should have been home around 4:00, plenty of time to work on Frizzen SparksÂ… notice nothing new. Yea, my fault my arse. Lazy bastard! Wes and I stuck around to burn through the last of the ammo. It would be a sin to go home with perfectly good ammo.
I also was able to talk with some of the other shooters there, swap stories, and talk about our firearms and such. One guy was shooting a real nice replica .45 caliber Henry rifle. (This is the first lever action that was used in the Civil War) He was pretty darn good; he had bullÂ’s eye clusters at 25 yards.
After shooting Wes and I hit “The Vaj” aka Vaj’s Garage. It’s a small bar just south of Bristol, WI. Great food, cold beer, wonderful atmosphere, and yet another bar that I like that is too far away from home. We watched part of the Steelers molesting beating the Broncos while eating our burgers. Yet another bar that has Michelob Amber bock on draft, nice and icy cold too. After we finished eating, we headed home to our families.
When I got home, I had to consol Boopie. HeÂ’s a Denver Bronco fan and was really hoping they would go to the Super Bowl this year. It wouldnÂ’t have been so bad if it had been a close game, but at 34-17, he took an emotional whipping. HeÂ’ll get over it. Its part of following a sport, youÂ’re team doesnÂ’t always win.
Other then consoling Boopie, it was a good day. I had a lot of fun, no stress and was able to spend some time with good friendsÂ… even if one smelt of rot and decay.
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January 20, 2006
- Beware:
JUST KIDDING! After last weeks shenanigans, I think I'm just going to enjoy my libations off line tonight. Henceforth I'm officially turning over the computer to my loverly wife Ktreva.
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January 14, 2006
Here's Darth Vader as you've never seen before. He's kickin' out the Imperial March on the turn table. DJ Vader has some mad skillz, yo!
That Keltech has some talent.
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IÂ’m sorry to have failed all of you, again, for the umpteenth time.
I blame it on the pizza I ate. I was getting pretty drunk socially lubricated, then sobriety hit. However, I did win three items on eBay. Even after shipping and handling I was able to pick up three wool Blankets for less then if I bought one from one of my re-enacting sources.
IÂ’m supposed to make an appearance at work tomorrow. I donÂ’t think IÂ’m going in.
Update:
I wrote that two hours ago. IÂ’m feeling much better nowÂ… oh, e-mail. BRBÂ… eh, that was amusing. Anyways, IÂ’m much moreÂ… uhÂ… socially lubricated now then I was earlier. DonÂ’t believe me? Just ask the couch where IÂ’m sleeping tonight. The olÂ’ ball and chain young wife said made a comment that if I canÂ’t come to bed a t a decen ttime I can sleep downstairs. I tried arguing what a decen ttime was, but she would have none of that. Somehting about waking up Clone. Eh, he seems fine to me, snoring like usual. I still have half of a 36 oz drink left. (Math geeks have at it.) After that IÂ’m going to bed. I have my yahoo messanger up, so if you want me, and really need me (ladies only) just e-mail me and IÂ’ll be here.
BTW,. those damn spam verificaction codes on blogger and yahoo are annyoing when you've had a drink or two.
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January 13, 2006
- Beware:
End of message.
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January 12, 2006
It all stems from my making a very uncharacteristic compliment in the comments of this post. By the way, if you read that post with a dirty mind, itÂ’s much more interesting. Not that I have to tell any of my readers that. In response she goes off and writes a post titled Why I love Contagion.
Now, itÂ’s not as if any of you need reasons to love me, I mean lets face it. IÂ’m quiet, shy, polite, demure, friendly, nice and above all else a philanthropist. Who wouldnÂ’t love me? But just in case you need some reminders, go check her the post out.
Update: I'm such a bad dad, I can't even get her blog name correct.
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January 06, 2006
Her son is in Iraq with the army. HeÂ’s been overseas a lot, and has multiple tours in Iraq and Afghanistan. She occasionally gets e-mails from him and the even rarer phone call. In the midst of her stress reduction plan, she was pleasantly surprised when her son called. He was just giving her an update on how he was doing and checking on her, his father and sister. They when all of a sudden her call is interrupted by three loud bangs in rapid succession.
Nervous she asked her son what was happening. His response: “Don’t worry about it mom. That’s just Bob on the .50 cal shooting back.” (BANG BANG BANG) “Bob, Say hi to my mom!”(BANG BANG BANG) Bob, “Hi Mom!” (BANG BANG BANG). Son, “I had my cell phone with and thought I’d give you a call while you where still awake.” He was on a rooftop in Baghdad when he called.
Apparently, the thought of talking to her son during a firefight didnÂ’t help her stress any.
Her reactions while reciting the story made me laugh.
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December 08, 2005
To this point, I’ve always addressed all of you as “readers”. I don’t think this is incorrect, but it feels too formal for me. There are other bloggers that have nicknames for their readers, I kind of like the idea of coming up with a nickname for all of you. I’ve been putting some thoughts into it. Yet I can’t come up with one that not only sounds like something I would say or I like the way it sounds.
I canÂ’t call you minions, because thatÂ’s what I call my employees. For a while, I was kicking around calling you the Contagionettes, but I keep laughing every time I typed it. Then I thought of calling all of you sunshine. After a thorough arse kicking I administered to myself, my bruised and battered self decided it was a bad idea.
What do you all think? Do I continue to call you “readers” (which a couple of times I had people think I was calling you breeders) or do you think I should come up with something else to call you? Now, if you say I should come up with something, suggestions would be appreciated. I really don’t want to have to relive that unpleasant experience of trying to shove my foot up my own arse.
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December 03, 2005
I would hate to see your loved ones upset they can't have M&M's that spell out "B-L-O-W M-E" or "I-M H-O-R-N-E-Y".
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September 30, 2005
Must be available on Sundays and likes football, shooting and camping.
The ability to cook hot wings, bratwurst and steaks is a bonus.
Owning a 47-inch TV with surround sound and NFL Sunday Ticket will warrant free beer.
Does not necessarily have to be a Packer fan.
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September 20, 2005
IÂ’ll be honest and admit it does make me chuckle; there is something darkly amusing about that. Maybe itÂ’s because one of my ways of dealing with things is to make jokes out of it, or maybe itÂ’s just because IÂ’m an asshole. Either way it did amuse me some.
So far IÂ’ve shared this with about a dozen people getting a mixed reaction, IÂ’m just curious what everyone else thinks. Is this funny or is it tactless? Or possibly tactlessly funny.
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September 06, 2005
(... uh I mean comment ways, really I did... I wouldn't lie to you. Not you baby, I would never lie to you. *looking innocent*)
P.S. The firemen are already there ladies!
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July 25, 2005
Upon arriving there was only four other people at the bar. The two guys, and only other males to show up, where playing pool while the other two were sitting at a table drinking. Shortly after more people arrived. Around 8:00, I realized that I was going to be only one of three males at this little gathering. The reason they went to this particular bar was so they could sing karaoke. My singing voice is horrible, but I loves to sing the karaoke! Watching people cringe in pain from the sound of my voice amuses me. The karaoke didn’t start until after 9:00. By this time I was feeling pretty socially lubricated. My plans failed miserably. This was only the second work-sponsored function I’ve attended. The last one was a Christmas party last year. People where buying drinks for me, to be more precise they were buying me shots. There was still $12.00 in my wallet at 9:00 PM. When the singing started, I couldn’t help but to get into the mood. Picking a song I’ve sung many times before I entered my name into the list. Now some of you may have heard about my legendary performance of Bette Midlar’s Wind Beneath my Wings. That is not the song I performed; I performed Vanilla Ice’s Ice Ice Baby as sung by Sean Connery. I do a passable Sean Connery impersonation. Now I had the bar laughing at me, which is what I was wanting. It was meant to be amusing. I started really getting into my performance. In the heat of the moment, I started dancing… like Vanilla Ice. No good comes from that. Let’s just say there is a table and chair that will never be the same again. As for the rest of the singers, they where all pretty damn good, one of the trainers from my office that was there sang “Son of a Preacher Man”. Her voice was really good; I think she may have missed her calling.
Not long after that, the only other guys left to go to a different bar. They said they wanted to go check out some of the meat markets to find girls they didnÂ’t work with. Personally, I think I embarrassed the hell out of them! Then most of the people from work that I actually knew left. That left me as the only guy with a bunch of females that not only worked with me, but where minions in training. Deciding I needed to get the hell out of there, I did the ultra-fast sobering technique. AKA I drank lots and lots of water, swallowing the ice cubes whole. You sober up real fast doing that. Around 11:15, I tore out of there to head home. Fortunately, I drive a big truck with four-wheel drive; cops donÂ’t patrol peopleÂ’s back yards! IÂ’m kidding; I probably would have blown over a .08 blood alcohol level. But I was fine to drive the ten blocks to get home. Hell I could probably blow over a .08 right now. Of course, I tried my hand at not-quite sober posting in practice for the Blogcrawl. IÂ’m going to have to get much more inebriated for that little shindig.
Saturday my wife and I were invited to a party at a co-workers house in Janesville, WI. It was my wife’s turn to drink. That made me the driver. Before we left, we had to stop at the store to pick up some foodstuffs to bring with to the party. When we got home from the store, there was a message on our answering machine. It was a desperate plea for help. Apparently, the host and hostess picked up a half barrel of beer. They had a tapper and didn't rent one. They hadn’t checked theirs and it wasn’t working properly. There was a leak in it and it made lots and lots of foam. What I found amusing was the fact that they called me for a tapper. They had a drinking emergency and the first thought that popped into their heads was, “Call Contagion, he’ll have what we need.” Even before checking with the store that they bought the keg from, they called me. Not that I blame them, I do own quite an impressive collection of drinking supplies, including a pub grade tapper. After getting my machine, and fearing I had left already, they called the liquor store only to find out they where out anyway. Being the exemplar asshole that I am, I let them stew for a couple of hours prior to my telling them I would bring it. . In fact, we told them we were going to be late arriving because of Clone. When we arrived about an hour and a half after the party started, I was about mugged by guys wanting a beer. Pulling the taper out of the truck and holding it over my head, the sun glinting off the chrome spigot, they all stopped in the tracks. A collective “AH!” was issued by the mass and I was treated like a messenger of god. Walking briskly to the keg, with a one handed move that most only get to witness in movies, I taped the keg and started pouring liquid gold to all my new disciples.
For the first time ever, I played Texas HoldÂ’em against live people. IÂ’ve only played in the past online or against a computer. Figuring I was just going to have some fun and be the first one out, I bought my way in. After 54 hands, I ended up winning the entire competition. Feeling obligated to play in the second round since I won, I invested part of my winnings back in. Now I was the first one out. However, I was sure I had the best hand. When it came down to showing cards, I was beaten by my opponentÂ’s kicker card. I had a Jack, he had a Queen. ItÂ’s okay, I was still up on my winnings and I was able to drink more.
It was a fun party. The details get a little fuzzy because of the alcohol. I know there were shots again, even though these were nasty fruity shots, but I remember doing one or twenty. At one point, I know women where flashing people; my wife was included in participating in the flashing. The host was walking around showing any female that asked his sloppyrod. It was the hostessÂ’ birthday on Sunday; her husband rented her a stripper. I donÂ’t know if he was good or not, I stayed out on the garage drinking beer and playing cards. My wife seemed to enjoy it though. Which is fine by me, he did all the work and later I got to have the fun. I donÂ’t care if she was fantasizing I was some stripper dressed up as a soldier, I was fantasizing she was Adriana Lima.
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July 07, 2005
LittleJoe and I talked it over and decided we were going to crash the party anyways. Bully on them! We arrived separately, LittleJoe about 45 minutes before me; we were the only ones there. At first we thought we had fallen for a clever decoy and after waiting for 30 minutes past the scheduled time we were getting ready to go home when there was a loud noise, a bright flash and smoke filled the entrance way. Over the bodies, blocking the front door, in steps BlackFive wearing full tactical gear and a gas mask. Not knowing who we were he ignored us and went to the far side of the bar to wait. We just kept our eye on him trying to figure out if that really was BlackFive or if someone else, who dresses like that, would show up here at that time.
As soon as the employees had the mess cleaned up from BlackFive’s entrance, in walked Teresa. It’s hard not to recognize her. Her regal presence upon entering was unmistakable. She glanced around with that cheery, “I’m slumming it with the commoners” look. We could tell from the pained look in her eye she recognized us from the last blogmeet we did two months ago. She greeted us with a fake smile and, “Oh, you two are here. How quant.” It was at that point BlackFive used an asp to move me out of the way so he could talk with Teresa.
I don’t remember who arrived next, Aneth or Harvey and TNT, but they arrived at about the same time. When Harvey entered, he immediately tried to get the staff to start a blog. I can’t count how many times in the first five minutes I heard, “So if you started a blog, what would the name be?” TNT immediately went into “looking for prey” mode. I swear that if it weren’t for LittleJoe as my back up, she would have added my head to her duffle bag full of “trophies”. When Harvey saw LittleJoe and me, he said, “How the hell did you two…. DAMN THAT GRAUMAGUS! I should have known better then to entrust him with a secret.” Upon Aneth’s arrival she attempted to pull me out of my bar stool so she could use me as a stepping stool to rest her feet on. Fortunately, my ample mass prevented that from happening. She did start hollering for Pina Colada’s as soon as she sat down in compensation.
Grau arrived next. He saw me, came over and said, “Uh, I see you got my message about the change in date and time. Yea, that’s what happened.” Harvey walked over and backhanded Grau. Growling, Harvey said, “I thought I specifically told you not to mention this gathering to the unwanted stump. We did not want the spawn of the GrauHarveBou here!” Grau, whipping some spittle off his face grabbed Harvey by the shirt. Hoisting him about a foot off the ground, Grau calmly warned Harvey, “I am not one of your blog children, if you ever do that again I will knock your Michael Gross looking arse back into the 80’s!” At that point, Grau and Harvey started laughing and hugging. It made me wonder even more about Bou’s, TIG’s and my blog-procreation.
Finally, Tammi and TIG arrived. Tammi came waltzing in all dressed up and looking as if she were heading to a formal event. While twirling she yelled out, “I’m the prettiest girl at the ball!” She went on to explain how she had spent most of the day in a salon having her hair and nails done just so she could look her best. I thought we were going to have a problem when BlackFive used his model 1911 Colt to shoot the cap off a bottle. The cap almost landed in Tammy’s hair. Fortunately, his aim was very good and instead it missed her by a quarter of an inch and landed in a trashcan.
TIG just pushed his way to the bar, slapped his hand down and yelled, “Bartender… Burrito, Beer… NOW!” I tried to say hello to him, but all I could understand from his low mumble was, “….. need beer…” and “…no beer yet…” However once he was able to drink his first couple of bottles he started coming to. This time when I attempted to say hello he responded with, “Umm, have we met before?” I explained that we had indeed met twice before. Scratching his head as he walked away, I heard him ask Tammy, “Is he the asshole I spent all that time talking to at the April Blogmeet?”
We were shown to a table; LittleJoe and I were relinquished to one end away from the more civilized and larger bloggers. Aneth decided to take pity on us and sat at the end to. It was either pity or the fact she was sucking down Pina Coladas. I had been drinking diet coke up to this point, but I needed something to help me overcome my shyness. I started ordering Jack and Diet cokes. The food was good, but after the meal, they seemed in a hurry to get us out of the place. I think some of it had to do with topics of conversation. Such as BlackFive telling stories of how he has a blister on his hand from knife fighting, TNT talking about the proper way to sever a human head, Harvey explaining about dogs eating cat poop, Aneth talking about putting cats into dryers, my going into details about the sewage explosion in my basement and TIGÂ’s constant screaming for beer.
After we left the restaurant, we went to a bar nearby for drinks. It was pretty much more of the same; we all were sitting and talking about various topics. Then a vile plot was hatched by my BlogFathers to do a 7 month after birth abortion. They decided that we should all do prairie fire shots. For those of you that donÂ’t know, a prairie fire is half Tequila and half Tabasco sauce. The Tabasco doesnÂ’t bother me, itsÂ’ the tequila. I donÂ’t really like the taste of tequila to begin with; itÂ’s the fact that it causes me intense bodily pain that I hate it. Tequila tends to interact with my ulcers and causes me pain for days. In fact, as IÂ’m writing this IÂ’m drinking a pepto/prevacid milkshake. I can still taste the Tequila. Grau, knowing me for years, knew this was going to cause me much pain and discomfort. What he didnÂ’t count on was my buddy Jack Daniels being able to subdue Jose from killing me.
It was a good evening, BlackFive only really tried to kill me once when he found out I donÂ’t read his blog on a regular basis. I explained his blog scares meÂ… not because of content but because too many people read it. He seemed to be appeased by that answer and let me live. It was easy to distract him however, all I had to do was get him to start telling stories and he seemed happy enough to tell him.
In all honesty I did have a good time, I was glad I went and it was nice to see everyone.
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