Click here to see the Pirate Captain's acceptance speech.
Tuesday, April 19, 2005
Saturday, April 16, 2005
If You Think Your Job Sucks...
Shit Sucker
Yes, the shit sucker. All day long he drives around his shit filled truck going from port-a-john to septic tank removing the feces like some sort of disgusting reverse Johnny Appleseed. I put this job second on my list of top 10 crappy jobs only behind Crack Whore.
I was having a pity party thinking about how much I hate not being able to have a beer after work or even having a weekend when the shit sucker showed up. Wiping the sweat from his brow he said, "Can you move your trucks?"
"So you can suck our shit?", I said jokingly. He glared at me and muttered, "Yeah." then walked away. He didn't appreciate the joke.
Hell, if your going to suck shit then at least have a good sense of humor about it. Otherwise the humiliation of being the world's collector of poop will drive you to beat your wife, kick your dog, or even shake the baby. I bet there are fun-loving shit suckers out there that greet you with a smile and a sloppy handshake. Men that are proud of their position. Men who's dad's dad's dad sucked shit back when they scooped it out with their hands... And they liked it that way.
I couldn't imagine showing up at my 10 year high school reunion telling my senior prom date that just the other day I hit the chili cookoff and got paid overtime.
"And the award for the most disgusting life goes to... Chad, the shit sucker!"
I thought I was going to have to tell them I was a waiter at P.F. Changs. Which to me isn't that far from shit sucker. Six years of college just to peddle deep fried Chinese food? Life was beginning to look like a cruel joke. I actually did wait on my Senior prom date. She hated me anyway so I'm sure it was a real pleasure to see me scurrying around, beads of sweat running down my face, trying to please everyone in the fakest restaurant voice I could manage. Well, that's all over. Thank God!
But, like the midget said in Death to Smoochy, "A job's a job." Bitching about your job is as usless as moonwalking to clear up your syphalis. Go out and make those ends even if it means waiting tables, wearing some rediculous costume on the side of the road, manually masterbating caged animals for artificial ensemination, selling shoes, or even sucking shit.
Yes, the shit sucker. All day long he drives around his shit filled truck going from port-a-john to septic tank removing the feces like some sort of disgusting reverse Johnny Appleseed. I put this job second on my list of top 10 crappy jobs only behind Crack Whore.
I was having a pity party thinking about how much I hate not being able to have a beer after work or even having a weekend when the shit sucker showed up. Wiping the sweat from his brow he said, "Can you move your trucks?"
"So you can suck our shit?", I said jokingly. He glared at me and muttered, "Yeah." then walked away. He didn't appreciate the joke.
Hell, if your going to suck shit then at least have a good sense of humor about it. Otherwise the humiliation of being the world's collector of poop will drive you to beat your wife, kick your dog, or even shake the baby. I bet there are fun-loving shit suckers out there that greet you with a smile and a sloppy handshake. Men that are proud of their position. Men who's dad's dad's dad sucked shit back when they scooped it out with their hands... And they liked it that way.
I couldn't imagine showing up at my 10 year high school reunion telling my senior prom date that just the other day I hit the chili cookoff and got paid overtime.
"And the award for the most disgusting life goes to... Chad, the shit sucker!"
I thought I was going to have to tell them I was a waiter at P.F. Changs. Which to me isn't that far from shit sucker. Six years of college just to peddle deep fried Chinese food? Life was beginning to look like a cruel joke. I actually did wait on my Senior prom date. She hated me anyway so I'm sure it was a real pleasure to see me scurrying around, beads of sweat running down my face, trying to please everyone in the fakest restaurant voice I could manage. Well, that's all over. Thank God!
But, like the midget said in Death to Smoochy, "A job's a job." Bitching about your job is as usless as moonwalking to clear up your syphalis. Go out and make those ends even if it means waiting tables, wearing some rediculous costume on the side of the road, manually masterbating caged animals for artificial ensemination, selling shoes, or even sucking shit.
Thursday, April 14, 2005
Pirate Captain Update
Yarrrr!
The new student body president for North Carolina State University is The Pirate captain.
The Pirate Captain 4044 58.0%
Will Quick 2926 42.0%
I, of course, sent my congratulations:
Pirate Captain,
Excellent work! I have to say that I'm a fan. I don't go to your university, hell, I don't even live in your state, but I think what you did is fucking awesome! I've enjoyed watching your progress and have posted the results on my blog. I used some of your pictures too, I hope you don't mind. Anyway, good job and make um all walk the plank!
Chadwick
He responded:
Ahoy Matey Chadwick, Ye blog looks great and thank ye much for tha support. Glad ta hearye lov'n what we bae doin'. And me bae tak'n me office and fly'n meflag soon. Whem me does we'll have us some photographs about.
-The Pirate Captain
While looking for the results I saw that the school published the write in votes that were ineligible. I thought that some of the entries were pretty funny.
IllegalVotes:Tshimanga Biakabutuka, Jack Frost, Jesus H Christ, Americana, Smokey McPott, Pedro, bam bam bigolow, Strong Mad, eric cartman, David Thompson, Big Bird, Tupac Shakur, Harry Balzonya, Woody Allen, Mr T, Senator Palpatine, tommy tutone, Swabby, go vegan, Bill Clinton, Herb Sendek, John Lennon, Your mom, captain stabbin, Bebop Rocksteady, First Mate Tim, Strong Bad, mi matie, your mom, johnny cocran
The new student body president for North Carolina State University is The Pirate captain.
The Pirate Captain 4044 58.0%
Will Quick 2926 42.0%
I, of course, sent my congratulations:
Pirate Captain,
Excellent work! I have to say that I'm a fan. I don't go to your university, hell, I don't even live in your state, but I think what you did is fucking awesome! I've enjoyed watching your progress and have posted the results on my blog. I used some of your pictures too, I hope you don't mind. Anyway, good job and make um all walk the plank!
Chadwick
He responded:
Ahoy Matey Chadwick, Ye blog looks great and thank ye much for tha support. Glad ta hearye lov'n what we bae doin'. And me bae tak'n me office and fly'n meflag soon. Whem me does we'll have us some photographs about.
-The Pirate Captain
While looking for the results I saw that the school published the write in votes that were ineligible. I thought that some of the entries were pretty funny.
IllegalVotes:Tshimanga Biakabutuka, Jack Frost, Jesus H Christ, Americana, Smokey McPott, Pedro, bam bam bigolow, Strong Mad, eric cartman, David Thompson, Big Bird, Tupac Shakur, Harry Balzonya, Woody Allen, Mr T, Senator Palpatine, tommy tutone, Swabby, go vegan, Bill Clinton, Herb Sendek, John Lennon, Your mom, captain stabbin, Bebop Rocksteady, First Mate Tim, Strong Bad, mi matie, your mom, johnny cocran
Tuesday, April 12, 2005
Poker Buddies
Mucho Trabajo, Poco Dinero
This pack of que balls are the pinche roughnecks of United rig #30. With the casino down the road the gambling bug has set in. They started off with washers last week and now Martinez has lost $150 playing whore house games with his workmates. Of course I joined in and,of course, I lost $9.
"Thanks for the $9!", Pedro said in broken English.
I hit the casino yesterday too and lost $20. I was redeemed on Party Poker though by winning $64, so I'm a winner. Then again, I lost my check card today and had to cancel it. I call it a push.
With the absence of drugs and alcohol I've taken up this new vice of gambling and I think it's the worst of the three. I had a rich friend in Junior High School. He used to brag on how is dad would take private jets to Vegas for blackjack tournaments. I would ride my bike over to his house and see his old man shooting hoops. I'd join in and it wasn't too long before it started.
"OK, $1, one-on-one, you and me.", he would say.
Not having a dollar, I'd agree and lose. Then he would decide that we would go double or nothing. Anyway, he was hauled off to federal pound-you-in-the-ass prison for embezzling $4.5 million. His investment banking business had screwed various members of the community out of their hard earned cash. This included the owners of the local tractor dealership who were the wealthiest folks in town. If that doesn't define the town I lived in, I don't know what would.
He tried to appeal because the money simply could not be traced. Eventually it would be reviled that all that cash went from the people's pockets straight to the blackjack table.
He's out now and living in a makeshift apartment in the back of his brother's dentist office. I haven't seen or heard from my friend much since the incident. Luckily his grandparents on his mom's side own the company that contracted to build Interstate 10 through Texas. I hear my friend owns a oil company now. What does a guy with a history major know about the oil business? Whatever, good for him I guess. I bet he doesn't get to play cards with the roughnecks though.
This pack of que balls are the pinche roughnecks of United rig #30. With the casino down the road the gambling bug has set in. They started off with washers last week and now Martinez has lost $150 playing whore house games with his workmates. Of course I joined in and,of course, I lost $9.
"Thanks for the $9!", Pedro said in broken English.
I hit the casino yesterday too and lost $20. I was redeemed on Party Poker though by winning $64, so I'm a winner. Then again, I lost my check card today and had to cancel it. I call it a push.
With the absence of drugs and alcohol I've taken up this new vice of gambling and I think it's the worst of the three. I had a rich friend in Junior High School. He used to brag on how is dad would take private jets to Vegas for blackjack tournaments. I would ride my bike over to his house and see his old man shooting hoops. I'd join in and it wasn't too long before it started.
"OK, $1, one-on-one, you and me.", he would say.
Not having a dollar, I'd agree and lose. Then he would decide that we would go double or nothing. Anyway, he was hauled off to federal pound-you-in-the-ass prison for embezzling $4.5 million. His investment banking business had screwed various members of the community out of their hard earned cash. This included the owners of the local tractor dealership who were the wealthiest folks in town. If that doesn't define the town I lived in, I don't know what would.
He tried to appeal because the money simply could not be traced. Eventually it would be reviled that all that cash went from the people's pockets straight to the blackjack table.
He's out now and living in a makeshift apartment in the back of his brother's dentist office. I haven't seen or heard from my friend much since the incident. Luckily his grandparents on his mom's side own the company that contracted to build Interstate 10 through Texas. I hear my friend owns a oil company now. What does a guy with a history major know about the oil business? Whatever, good for him I guess. I bet he doesn't get to play cards with the roughnecks though.
Sunday, April 10, 2005
Conversation With a Pirate
Pirate Captain
If you haven't heard there's this kid at North Carolina State University that's running for student body president under the name Pirate Captian. In the election he got 44% of the biggest turn out in the school's election history. Now there's a runoff and looks like the Pirate Captian is a shoe in. I thought this was a riot. I sent him an email to wish him luck in the upcoming election.
Pirate Captain,
Eeeear! Avast! I bae wishin' ye the best of luck in all ye indevers.The booty bae ripe for the takin'. You bea makin' a good name for all pirates around the world! Show these land lubbers what for and win ye runoff!
Your scrvy mate,
Chadwick
I got his responce today:
Yarr Matey Chadwick,
Thank ye much for ye kind words. Tha booty bae at our finger tips and we bae ready ta take it. Come Monday and Tuesday we bae need'ntha votes ta put us where we needs ta bae. If ye could rally ye crew for me it'd make a pirate captain a happy man.
-The Pirate Captain
Awesome!
Pirate Captian
In the news
Election results.
I hope he wins.
If you haven't heard there's this kid at North Carolina State University that's running for student body president under the name Pirate Captian. In the election he got 44% of the biggest turn out in the school's election history. Now there's a runoff and looks like the Pirate Captian is a shoe in. I thought this was a riot. I sent him an email to wish him luck in the upcoming election.
Pirate Captain,
Eeeear! Avast! I bae wishin' ye the best of luck in all ye indevers.The booty bae ripe for the takin'. You bea makin' a good name for all pirates around the world! Show these land lubbers what for and win ye runoff!
Your scrvy mate,
Chadwick
I got his responce today:
Yarr Matey Chadwick,
Thank ye much for ye kind words. Tha booty bae at our finger tips and we bae ready ta take it. Come Monday and Tuesday we bae need'ntha votes ta put us where we needs ta bae. If ye could rally ye crew for me it'd make a pirate captain a happy man.
-The Pirate Captain
Awesome!
Pirate Captian
In the news
Election results.
I hope he wins.
Give Me A Bar...
Choices...Choices
It's 2:30 on a Saturday night and I'm here on the web. Pathetic. About this time last year I would have been stumbling to my car on sixth street hoping I don't kill some truckload of Mexicans on their way to work the graveyard shift at the power plant. In retrospect I would say I had equally as many shitty nights as good nights and a couple great nights out on the town. Either way I'm out 30 to 150 bucks, depending on where you go. For those that don't know, there are two sections of the Austin nightlife. One is 6th street and the other is called the warehouse district. I never understood why a crown and coke is $5 more 2 blocks down the street. I guess it's an image thing. Five bucks more to drink with more important people, I guess. Fuck that! Give me a bar where your outfit is judged on what band or what clever saying is printed on the front. Something with a jukebox with at least one Johnny Cash album on it. Give me a bar where the bartender either has a bald tattooed head or giant breasts with a bottle opener for a belt buckle. Give me a bar where at least one letter in the neon sign is busted and it looks like someone broke a window with a beer bottle recently. Parked out front should be at least one motorcycle that isn't painted lime green or candy apple red. If there is a vintage Cadillac out front, I immediately enter. If there isn't live music, the DJ better not be playing that techno-raver shit. Any bar that attracts an ecstasy culture is silly and childish. Ecstasy is a drug for little girls and sexually confused young men. I want to hear either solid country gold, AC/DC, or hip hop. When I say hip hop, I don't mean anything that involves shouting or songs where the major part of the lyrics involve how many different ways the artist will kill you. Give me a bar where there at least one person is getting stoned or was stoned before he or she came in. A place where if a man orders a Cosmo he's thrown out on his ass. A place that has at least 2 really fat guys or girls with a devil-may-care attitude and has a fifty-fifty pretty to sub-pretty ratio. If I walk into another bar where all the girls look the same and all the guys are wearing untucked western shirts with spiky hair I'm going to stand on the bar and take a piss in the well. With that said, I'll leave the fancy smancy places with the fancy smancy people to all the metrosexuals and narcissistic assholes. Let those shmucks pay $5 cover and $10 for a crown and coke so they can sit around and talk about how much they like the bar's decor. I'll be at Barfly's drinking shots of Jager and playing foozeball with my local garage mechanic.
It's 2:30 on a Saturday night and I'm here on the web. Pathetic. About this time last year I would have been stumbling to my car on sixth street hoping I don't kill some truckload of Mexicans on their way to work the graveyard shift at the power plant. In retrospect I would say I had equally as many shitty nights as good nights and a couple great nights out on the town. Either way I'm out 30 to 150 bucks, depending on where you go. For those that don't know, there are two sections of the Austin nightlife. One is 6th street and the other is called the warehouse district. I never understood why a crown and coke is $5 more 2 blocks down the street. I guess it's an image thing. Five bucks more to drink with more important people, I guess. Fuck that! Give me a bar where your outfit is judged on what band or what clever saying is printed on the front. Something with a jukebox with at least one Johnny Cash album on it. Give me a bar where the bartender either has a bald tattooed head or giant breasts with a bottle opener for a belt buckle. Give me a bar where at least one letter in the neon sign is busted and it looks like someone broke a window with a beer bottle recently. Parked out front should be at least one motorcycle that isn't painted lime green or candy apple red. If there is a vintage Cadillac out front, I immediately enter. If there isn't live music, the DJ better not be playing that techno-raver shit. Any bar that attracts an ecstasy culture is silly and childish. Ecstasy is a drug for little girls and sexually confused young men. I want to hear either solid country gold, AC/DC, or hip hop. When I say hip hop, I don't mean anything that involves shouting or songs where the major part of the lyrics involve how many different ways the artist will kill you. Give me a bar where there at least one person is getting stoned or was stoned before he or she came in. A place where if a man orders a Cosmo he's thrown out on his ass. A place that has at least 2 really fat guys or girls with a devil-may-care attitude and has a fifty-fifty pretty to sub-pretty ratio. If I walk into another bar where all the girls look the same and all the guys are wearing untucked western shirts with spiky hair I'm going to stand on the bar and take a piss in the well. With that said, I'll leave the fancy smancy places with the fancy smancy people to all the metrosexuals and narcissistic assholes. Let those shmucks pay $5 cover and $10 for a crown and coke so they can sit around and talk about how much they like the bar's decor. I'll be at Barfly's drinking shots of Jager and playing foozeball with my local garage mechanic.
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
Where's All the Fucking Excitement
I've just spent a week in front of a computer screen googleing everything from haunted ebay auctions to ways to destroy the career of Ashlee Simpson. This is what you do with your free time when you're stuck in the middle of nowhere... Waiting. Today while the geologist and his wife came into the trailer and started yammering on about their family, pueblos, and historical figures that I could give two shits about, my mind started to wonder. Is this what I have in store for me? Getting to the point in my life where the only excitement I find is in museum tours?
I work with a guy named Walter. Walter is a 62 year old virgin. He drives a geo metro. He has a sword collection. Not cool samurai swords either, but fantasy swords. I've never had the pleasure of working with this guy but apparently he's a filthy bastard. Nobody can watch him eat without being physically ill. I heard that one time he was working all by himself when he had a stomach bug. He apparently didn't make it to the bathroom on time and shit all over the wall. He didn't clean it up and continued to live and work in a shit covered environment. It was discovered by the next logger to work in the trailer. I only bring this up because this scares me. If this job has any adverse effect on my personality, I'm suing.
Now I turn to poker for excitement and let's face it, I suck. I've lost more than I've won and in my book that means I suck. Lucky me, there's an casino 10 minutes from anywhere in New Mexico. The Indian casinos out here are filled with the elderly throwing their pensions away one quarter at a time. These people look pathetic. I think the weight of the average Indian casino patron is about 300 lbs. I went to Sandia to play in a poker tournament and this old man wheeling around an oxygen tank waddled up to me "Nan i nave a nigerette?", he said with tubes in his nose. Not only is this guy a danger to himself but he's carrying around a tank of flammable gas! Isn't that the way Jaws died? Anyway, I gave it to him and don't feel guilty because I think he wanted to die. He's gotten to a point in his life where gambling is the only excitement he can physically handle and from the look on his face I don't think it's doing the trick. I lost the tournament but like a moth to the flame, I'll be back.
I think this is all brought on by the fact that my birthday is this month. I'll be 27 on April, 29. Every time I hear that commercial for the army where the guy says "If you wrote down the story of your life, would anybody read it?", I think 'Hell yeah, I'm awesome!' Now I think that people would just skim past this part of my life and mumble to themselves, "Yadda, yadda, yadda."
I work with a guy named Walter. Walter is a 62 year old virgin. He drives a geo metro. He has a sword collection. Not cool samurai swords either, but fantasy swords. I've never had the pleasure of working with this guy but apparently he's a filthy bastard. Nobody can watch him eat without being physically ill. I heard that one time he was working all by himself when he had a stomach bug. He apparently didn't make it to the bathroom on time and shit all over the wall. He didn't clean it up and continued to live and work in a shit covered environment. It was discovered by the next logger to work in the trailer. I only bring this up because this scares me. If this job has any adverse effect on my personality, I'm suing.
Now I turn to poker for excitement and let's face it, I suck. I've lost more than I've won and in my book that means I suck. Lucky me, there's an casino 10 minutes from anywhere in New Mexico. The Indian casinos out here are filled with the elderly throwing their pensions away one quarter at a time. These people look pathetic. I think the weight of the average Indian casino patron is about 300 lbs. I went to Sandia to play in a poker tournament and this old man wheeling around an oxygen tank waddled up to me "Nan i nave a nigerette?", he said with tubes in his nose. Not only is this guy a danger to himself but he's carrying around a tank of flammable gas! Isn't that the way Jaws died? Anyway, I gave it to him and don't feel guilty because I think he wanted to die. He's gotten to a point in his life where gambling is the only excitement he can physically handle and from the look on his face I don't think it's doing the trick. I lost the tournament but like a moth to the flame, I'll be back.
I think this is all brought on by the fact that my birthday is this month. I'll be 27 on April, 29. Every time I hear that commercial for the army where the guy says "If you wrote down the story of your life, would anybody read it?", I think 'Hell yeah, I'm awesome!' Now I think that people would just skim past this part of my life and mumble to themselves, "Yadda, yadda, yadda."
Tuesday, April 05, 2005
Friday, April 01, 2005
4 Haikus
Television blows
Cops, Fox, and those sitcom shows
Brain mold starts to grow
Crystal meth is good
I would do it if I could
Then talk talk talk talk
The mystic garden of...haiku
If I don't eat food
I could have a feeding tube
Up my ass it goes
No it's not my kid
From your womb it must be rid
I ain't gunna' pay
Thank you.
Cops, Fox, and those sitcom shows
Brain mold starts to grow
Crystal meth is good
I would do it if I could
Then talk talk talk talk
The mystic garden of...haiku
If I don't eat food
I could have a feeding tube
Up my ass it goes
No it's not my kid
From your womb it must be rid
I ain't gunna' pay
Thank you.
Near Miss
Roughneck!
I went up to steal some of the roughneck cookies and took this picture. I caught it at the exact moment when Miguel was about to get hit with the tongs.
I went up to steal some of the roughneck cookies and took this picture. I caught it at the exact moment when Miguel was about to get hit with the tongs.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
