Thursday, March 31, 2005

Who Fucking Cares?

Yeah, I have not posted anything in a while. Ya know why? Because who gives a fuck what I have to say anyway. This has been a completely selfish endeavor. I can say whatever I want and nobody will read it. Most people just skim through my bullshit and look at the pictures. That is if they even bother to click on my link or enter my URL. To that I say "Fuck you very much!" I've added a hit counter to see how popular I am. And yes, it does count how many times I've been to my own blog. I'll bet that 95% of that total is me looking at my own page. Pathetic. I know.

I didn't want this to be a chronicle of my day to day because I thought that too egotistical. Lately that's all I got and even that isn't too interesting. How can I be inspired when I'm in the middle of the New Mexico desert waiting for my job to start, the only thing in the movie theaters is "The Pacifier", and the only thing on the news is that potato head Terri Shiavo. She died today and thank God. Here's Terri's blog and it makes me laugh every time I look at it (read the comments). Do all these so called religious activists know that she posed for nude photographs? Her fucking brain shut off because she had an eating disorder and didn't get enough potassium. So now the world grieves for this shallow slut. Now that the pope has a feeding tube. I think I should spearhead a movement to make March "National Feeding Tube Month."

Saturday, March 26, 2005

A Lesson in Geology I

Dunefield against Sangre de Christo Mountains Posted by Hello



In 2000 Bill Clinton made The Great Sand Dunes of Colorado a National Park. It wasn't until last year that the proper land acquisitions made it official. I was in the area so I checked it out. The Great Sand Dunes are somewhat of an anomaly and some of the secrets have only recently come to light. The Dunes are over cover 39 square miles, get up to 750 feet high, and are at least 12,000 years old. That's what the last coring of the dunes reviled but the actual age is still a mystery. The picture above shows the dunes against the Sangre de Christo (Blood of Christ) Mountains. The formation of the dunes is quite an amazing process. The Rio Grande and it's tributaries flow from the mountains, around the dunes, and into the San Juan Valley which lies to the west of the dunes.

Streams Surrounding the Dunes Posted by Hello



These streams deposit sand from the mountains in the valley. Easterly winds carry the sands onto the dunefield. The streams also pick up residual sand from the dunes and recycle them back onto the field. Pretty neat huh?

Closeup of Dunes Posted by Hello

Wednesday, March 23, 2005

Portland, Oragon to Leadville, Colorado

Finally, a shower. Now that cheese and dirt levels are at an acceptable level I'm much more relaxed. I've been on the road for the last 10 hours. The last 3 were the worst but let's begin at the beginning.

Portland, Oragon Posted by Hello



I drove from Wamsutter, Wyoming to Boise Idaho then hopped a plane to Portland, Oregon to visit my buddy David Ezrailson. We immediately had breakfast at "My Father's Place." A dark, smoky dive bar that fried up one hell of a strip of bacon. Everyone else in the place was older than me and Dave's ages combined. Our waitress was about 45 and was probably a real dish back in the day but time hadn't been kind. I soon passed out and woke up with a hard on inspired by our aged server. When my arousal subsided we went out and did the town. I had a great time but I wasn't too impressed with Dave's friends. We met Mike at some bar on the 30th floor of the tallest building in Portland. His conversation was dull and got too drunk to walk. Ellie, another one of Dave's friends, punched my brand new camera into my face and made me bleed. I lit into her but she didn't seem to care. She was lucky. She didn't even know me. I could have been a woman beating asshole and seriously fucked her up. She's one of those self defense nuts that likes to fight when she gets drunk. To her credit, she called the next day and sincerely apologized. I told her to stay clear of the Cobra Kai method of self defense and employ more of a Mr. Miagi style of fighting. Saturday was casino night. We hit the poker table and I came up even. It was a good time.

Pinhead Cops Posted by Hello



We were pulled over on the way back going 65 in a 25. We were asked to exit the vehicle while the car was searched. I pulled my camera out to take a picture. "I wouldn't do that if I was you!", the cop shouted with his hand on his gun. "That could get you shot!" Fucking pinhead. The cops didn't find any meth and let us move on down the road with only a warning.

Typical House in Portland. Posted by Hello



All the houses in Portland are 100 years old, there are over 1,000 varieties of plant life, and there is no sales tax. All pluses. It's also the lesbian capitol of the world and every service industry person is a coffee house intellectual with an opinion on everything. That was annoying. All and all a fun trip.

Look Familiar? Posted by Hello


Local Color Posted by Hello



I hopped a plane to Boise and drove to Rock springs where I stayed the night on the office couch. I got bored and decided to frequent the local bar, "The Saddle-Lite." White trash Valhalla but the people were super friendly. Justin, the guy in the wheelchair, was a bull rider but was injured in a wreck returning from a competition. He's a professional pool player and keeps a gun under the seat of his chair. Another guy I met had his arm smashed between some pipe on an oil rig and is now the bouncer at The Saddle-Lite. I think he was on meth. He talked about it a lot and informed me that Rock Springs is known as Meth Mountain. I also met a 34yr old woman that takes care of retards. She brought one of them to the bar. Between his intoxication and his retard speech impediment I couldn't understand a word he said. I just smiled and nodded and repeated "Well, that's good." She taught me how to swing dance and we had a blast.

White trash 'tard lover Posted by Hello


Somewhere in Utah Posted by Hello


I made a stop in Aspen Colorado just to see if I could recognise anything from "Dumb and Dumber." Sadly I did not. Everything was overpriced and half the people there didn't even speak english. The value of the Euro is making it easier for Europeans to visit the states I guess. I won't be going back there for a while

Timberline Motel Posted by Hello


Now I'm sitting here in the Timberline Inn seated high in the Rocky Mountains. When I rang the bell for service the hotel owner greeted me in his robe. "Now the TV won't work unless the main light switch is turned on." Awesome. This town doesn't look like it's aged a day in over 150 years. Time for bed. It's a long way to Albuquerque.

Wednesday, March 16, 2005

Drunkin' Roughneck II, Pics, and City Life

The roughneck came back to the trailer today out of his work clothes and asked me for $10. I lied and told him I only carry credit. He was looking very sober and depressed. He mumbled something about quitting and how some relative of his refused to lend him any more money. I don't know what the real story is but he doesn't work for this drilling company any more.

A Texan in Wyoming Posted by Hello


Yes, here I am in all my glory. The truth is I haven't showered in two days at the time of this picture and was beginning to smell a bit goatlike. Personal hygiene sometimes takes a back seat out here.

Chuck Posted by Hello


This guy here is Chuck. He likes guns, arrowheads, and eBay. He used to be an exploration geologist but now he mudlogs because he got sick of city life and understandably so. Thanks to corporate America most cities have lost their identities. There is a way to tell the status of your city by certain establishments they may have. Ok, if your city has a Ruth Chris Steakhouse, Cosco, and an indoor mall with a Dillard's, a Hot Topic, and a kiosk that sells cell phone covers you're in a metropolis. If your city has a Chili's, Sams, and large mini malls that contain Best Buy, Bed Bath and Byond, and a Barns and Noble you are in a large city. If your city has an Applebees, Super Wal-Mart, and mini malls that contain a radio shack and an Ace Hardware you are in a small city. If your city has Pizza Hut, Wal-Mart, and mini malls with beauty shops, stained glass craft shops, and video rental places you're in Sealy. If you are in a city with, a Dee's Chicken and Waffles, a Loaf and Jug, and an abandoned mini mall guarded by a dog with the mange you're in Butt Fucked Egypt!

Monday, March 14, 2005

Drunkin' Roughneck

I usually don't chronicle my day to day because it's pretty boring. Yesterday was different. This roughneck came bursting in our trailer loud as ever. Come to find out that it was payday and he's wasted on Jack Daniels. He offered us some and we respectfully declined. He proceeded to tell us that he had been in the pokey for 7 years for God-knows-what up in Salt Lake City. He had been approached by the Tool Pusher (he's in charge of the rig crews on a jobsite) earlier and was asked "Have you been drinking?" To which he replied, "All day dude!" Apparently he doesn't get along with any of the younger roughnecks because they were all on crystal meth. Wonderful. After he left we saw him zipping around in the forklift. I left the trailer to catch a sample when I saw him standing half naked on top of the water tank, "Whoooooo Hooooooo!" This was strange because it was 12 degrees outside.

They don't run this guy off the site because there's apparently a shortage of help around here. The oil business is busy lately. If I was the Pusher I would run this guy off as soon as possible before he kills himself or someone else. I'd trip the pipe myself as long as Sparky stays off my location.

I see he's back today. They're mudding up which takes a while. I asked him how long it would take hoping he would be busy and wouldn't bother me. He responded "I'll come talk to you when I get a chance." Fuck! This guy is just another reason to stay in school kids.

Saturday, March 12, 2005

Web Chadwick

Geology field camp. Posted by Hello


I googled my name on the internet and took a little stroll down memory lane. I found my sedimentary rocks professor's website with pictures from my geology field camp. A few weeks after this photo was taken I broke my leg in half. "The Pearl" was like a decade old when he went on this trip but still kept the pace. Rodrego there is the only one of this group I still keep up with. He kept me "safe" during the whole trip. Roman is the guy in the upper right corner who does the coloring for his own comic book.

In high school I was in a production of I Never Sang for my Father . I was the father. I got Honorable Mention cast at state. If you look in the 3A division you'll see my name. If you look under All Star Cast you'll see Robert Sudduth as the guy who never sang for me. You can also see Robert Sudduth in the newest dell commercial.

I'm also the lead vocals for Stack Train, 2005 Coca Cola Pee Wee League MVP, and have my own online university
Popular internet picture. Posted by Hello

Thursday, March 10, 2005

Everyone Is Gay

This is for the guy who primps for hours in the mirror. The guy who gets all sensitive when his buddies point out that he's getting a little fatter. This is for the guy who stays up all night when American Classic Movies runs an Audrey Hepburn marathon. The guy who secretly feels something move in his pants every time he sees a Richard Simmons fitness tape. You know who you are.

When you're a male cheerleader for 4 and a half years you ask yourself the same question every day, "Is what I'm doing at this particular moment... Gay?" It was a constant battle with my sexuality. It didn't help that every time I told someone that I was a Texas Cheerleader I would get a look that said, "I understand, I have a cousin that's gay." Then it would be followed by the same revelation every time, "I know why you're a yell leader. It's because you get to look up the girls skirts? Huh? Huh?" Then it's the inevitable question, "Does your finger ever, ya know, slip in her ya?" College cheerleader is a sexual paradox. It's the only position that is both a gay and straight fantasy.

I was a heterosexual man at the front lines of all that is gay. I've seen gayness in all it's glory. From the blatantly gay to the closet homosexual to the over-effeminate-heterosexual. These people are not just in cheerleading, no way, they're everywhere. In your job, in your family, in your favorite bar or restaurant, and just about every place else. Cheerleading was like that black light at a crime scene that shows where the ejaculate stains are. It brings unseen personality traits into a better light. This is why I feel I am an expert in this field.

The problem is that church, the media, and maybe even your parents have plugged the idea that there are men and that there are women. Men are more aggressive and women are more submissive. Men go out and work and women stay at home and cook. I know that these are incredibly primitive contrasts and social goals have changed over time but the point is that society tends to promote the whole man is different than a woman thing. We're programmed from birth to only see this binary system. In fact, it is more dynamic than that.

Things are starting to change. Will and Grace, Ellen, Queer Eye For The Straight Guy, and that black guy who does the 60 second pop segment on CNN are all part of the new exposure to gays. Art truly imitates life. Here in the real world men are lacking more and more everyday in the manliness category. There's even a new book out called "The Male Biological Clock". I'm seeing more men playing the victim in a relationship. The term Metrosexual is now in everyone's lexicon. I even know guys that have those little body lotion sponges in their showers! The gays are taking over! Oh where have you gone John Wayne? Where have we gone astray? What are we to do?

I'll tell you what you do. Except it. The facts are that there is a spectrum from 1 to 10 where 1 is Flaming-Drag-Queen-Lispy-Queer Male and 10 is Gun-Toting-Meat-Eating-Football-Watching-heterosexual Male. You and I fall somewhere on this spectrum. Anywhere between 1 and 4 is straight. Four being the overeffemanate male I talked about earlier. Ten to 6 is gay. At 5 there is something I like to call "The Dick Line." The Dick Line is the nexus of sexuality. It represents the point where you start liking cock. Either liking cock or fantasizing about another man fondling your cock or whatnot. Is 5 gay? It's a matter of opinion. I say yes. The same thing works for women but 5 is called the "The Clit Split." It's always been this way it's just been hidden by the bombardment of the binary paradigm.

This idea is far from unprecedented. I've never read anything by Margaret Mead or Ruth Benedict, but these two lesbo anthropologists are the ladies credited with first recognizing the homosexuality spectrum. So, guys, next time you pluck your eyebrows or catch yourself watching Christopher Lovell ask yourself, "Is what I'm doing at this particular moment... Gay?"

Thursday, March 03, 2005

The Devil in Disguise

Posted by Hello



While Sadona swam in the onboard pool, I was sunbathing naked on the bow of the Prince Theadore. The vessel was a gift from the Price of Tunisia in gratitude for my marriage to his daughter Phillip. It's the smallest of my fleet but has the most comfortable of facilities. The sun was shining and the Caribbean waters were calm enough not to spill my full-to-the-brim martini. I had just finished a 5 hour sexual session with Sadona and was exhausted. My newly fattened and elongated penis has me pleased. Very pleased. I bought Sadona from a pimp in Cuba for 50,000 dollars and granted him safe passage into the states. Her slight mood swings and morning illness gave me the feeling that she was becoming pregnant. I was pondering dumping her in the hands of Guantanamo bay dock workers.

Clouds started forming to the east. "Heavens, I hope it's not rain.", I said to myself. The clouds approached quickly. I turned to Sadona to inform her to take cover but she was nowhere to be found. "Sadona darling it's time to seek shelter in the galley! Sadona?" I heard the approaching of that most dreaded music the MTV calls 'hip-hop.' Since the incident I've been informed that it was the group Public Enemy performing a number entitled "Don't Believe the Hype." As I turned I realized the nimbus had surrounded my 150 foot yachat. I tried to run for cover but I couldn't move. The music got louder and more ear piercing. The clouds grew darker and blocked out the sun. A blast of lightning struck the bow which knocked me to my back.

When I arose standing in front of me was the tallest negro I had ever seen. Granted I haven't seen many negros in my life, mostly in the cinema. I have a few that work my estate in upstate New Hampshire, but I'm not sure. He was dressed in snow white Gucci with a white Versachi fur coat. He had on what could only be custom sunglasses with white rims and white mirror lenses. He had on a white Fedora with a white ribbon around it. He spoke with the deepest and commanding of voices. "What is up my brotha'?" "Take the boat! It is yours! Take my lover! I don't care! Don't hurt me negro man! Don't kill me please, I'll do any..." He struck me across the face. "Get a hold on yourself Francis! Now where's the bar in this ride? Damn, it's cold." When I looked up the heavens and the ocean was motionless. Dolphins were fixed in mid air and lightning in the distance was frozen like in a photograph. I turned back and the black man had made his way into the galley. I followed cautiously. I found him at my mahogany bar mixing a gimlet with Stoli Elit in my crystal tumblers I got in New York last year.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"I'm Satan Francis."

"Satan? But you are uh... uh..."

"Black?"

"I was going to say African American, but yes."

"What, a black man can't be the devil? You've been watching too many movies. The truth is I can choose my own form and I prefer that of a black male for situations such as this." He handed me a drink which I finished quickly and gestured for another. "Would you like to put on some clothes?", he suggested. "Oh, yeah." I put on my shorts that were lying across the bar stool beside me.

"Situations like this?"

"Yes. A black man seems to put the fear of God in you rich white folks plus I get to wear this." He smiled handsomely and posed by pulling the suit tight around his back by tugging the lapels. "I look good.", he chuckled.

"Indeed you do. Now what is all this about?"

"I've come to discuss a contract you signed with my associate Niko Styx of Balzaser, Styx, and Styx. They represent the legal arm of Styx Enterprises which I sit as chairman of the board. "

As we talked we sat on my giant Italian sofa I got at Modern Contemporary. "I thought all that talk about selling my soul was just witty banter. Now that I think about it it all makes perfect sense."

"Of course! You closed down shop and walked away with 2 billion dollars. Fourteen indictments and zero convictions. It takes more than shady accountants and tricky lawyers to get you out of the mess you made. You see Francis, I run hell a lot like a corporation where ironically we don't cook the books. We make strategic moves and expect full returns on all of our investments. The truth of the matter is that you've been slacking. Ever since we let you off the hook you've been lounging on your yacht fucking Mexican hookers. Not to say there is say there is anything wrong with that, it's just we want more out of you."

"I did nothing wrong! You have no right!"

"Francis, Francis, Francis. You can't talk your way out of this one. I have it right there in black in white." I looked down and on the ottoman in front of me was a copy of the 500 page contract. I picked it up and saw my signature in red on the last page."Now granted you did put over 500,000 people out of work and were responsible for 123 suicides, but most of those people found better jobs and most of the suicides were on there way to me anyway. It's not good enough."

"What do you want from me?", I asked.

He plopped himself right beside me and put his arm around my shoulders. He spoke with his lips an inch away from my cheek. "I got one word for you Francis. Influence. Sometimes it takes the slightest nudge to start the most devastating rockslide. You have to be at the right place at the right time and you can't do that SITTING ON YOUR ASS OUT HERE IN INTERNATIONAL WATERS!! Do you get my point?"

I felt a very warm sensation in my pants. I was to afraid to look down or even move for that matter. Satan looked at the wet spot in my pants, laughed, and stood up. "I think we have an understanding."

The music started again as he walked outside where Sadona joined him. She clung to the arm of his fur coat and couldn't keep her eyes off of his face. She writhed in ecstasy and didn't even look my direction. "You haven't heard the last of me Francis Theadore Plank. If you don't meet my expectations, I can make your life up here worse than anything you will ever feel in hell." With that they were gone. The skies cleared up and the boat began to gently rock again. The music faded out and I could hear the chirping of dolphins and the sounds of the ocean. "There has got to be a way out of this." I thought.