Jew here.
So, my days are like this:Get up around 4-5 AM, fall out of the top bunk of the trailer bedroom onto the floor... hard, say the word "fuck" about 5 times, walk to the kitchen, make 12 cups of coffee that would make a spoon stand straight up, drink 2 of them, open the door and look out to a 100 foot metal structure holding about 200-300 thousand lbs of steel piping extending about 9000 feet into the ground, then realize that, shit, I'm in fucking Colorado.Did I mention I am about 50 miles away from civilization, or that I am walled in a canyon about 3000 feet high? Or how about the brown bear that cruised about 100 feet away from our site today?
The modern world of drilling is pretty f-ing crazy. Most of what I do is grab core samples, clean 'em, place them on a sampling tray and a porcelain tray, look at them under a microscope, both white and UV light, then run some standard chemical analysis to view both rock composition and hydrocarbon traces. I'm sure Launch Box has already said all this bullshit already.
But every now and again there is a pump fire, or the rig falls over, or the roughnecks kick the shit out of each other, or they tell me how they shot up meth and kicked the shit out of their girlfriend,her dad, and threatened the judge. You know, that old chestnut.It's like the ultimate boy's club out here.I've been in 5 states in 3 weeks, averaged about 3 hours of sleep a night, been screwed over by countless people back home, climbed 2 different, unbelievably gorgeous trails, and have not had sex since the 7th.
But I finished my fucking homework.
rockreeder
Monday, June 27, 2005
Sunday, June 26, 2005
Cyberphobia and Gerontophobia
Old people kinda creep me out. Growing up I never felt completely comfortable around my aging father. Not much has changed. Anyone over 55 gives me the willies. There are exceptions though. Close family and aging hipsters don't bother me so much, but the rest are just plain creepy.
Take this guy I'm training for example. He's in his late 50's and missing a tooth which doesn't help matters any. You sit this guy down in front of a computer and you'd think he was under the interragation lamp in Guantanamo Bay. He shakes, stutters, can't get the right words out of his mouth to ask a question or answer one, and is visibly uneasy. It is obvious that computers are the elderly's kryptonite. They think that every little move they make on a computer is going to erase all the data. No matter how often I tell them that it's very hard to make a mistake on a computer, they still need to have their hand held through every little cut and paste. It's like watching a monkey try to fuck a football.
In Joe Rogan's stand up he says that just because you're 65 doesn't mean I have to respect you. If you've been an asshole all your life why should I respect you now when you're an old asshole? Why should I respect you if you haven't made the effort to retire gracefully and drive off into the sunset in your new RV hopping from casino to casino and national park to national park. That's the way to go! That way you can't bother anyone, especially me. I know this sounds cold and all but I hate driving behind them, smelling them, and watching them eat. Have you ever watched an old person eat? You can see the extra skin flapping on their jowls when they chew, they don't seem to ever get the whole bite in their mouth, and they always concentrating heavily on the chewing process. Old people eat weird things too like eggs with green olives, Vienna sausages, and boiled cabbage.
Talking to old people is hard too. How can I possibly relate anything in my life to what they are going through: sickness, death, bladder problems, walkers, doctor appointments, and metimucial. Every time I call my 76 year old father on the phone and I ask what's going on, 2 out of 5 times he will mention that someone he has known for ages has died. I don't ask anymore. When they tell a story from their youth, it's usually hard for them to remember and pieces are left out. In the end, about 30 minutes of my life is wasted listening to them.
"Back when I was in college I was escorting this gal to some thing. It was this.... Uhhhhhh.... We danced to Benny Goodman and... I... We... Zzzzzzzzzz"
On my trip into town today, I just saw George Romero's "Land of the Dead." When I left I went to Walgreens to have some pictures developed. At the checkout counter I heard this horribly raspy voice behind me. When I looked up I had to do a double take because this guy looked like a fucking zombie. Sunken buggy eyes, pale, and visible veins lots and lots of visible veins on his face. Guaaaaaahhhhhh! The aging process was not good to this guy. He's not alone though, most old people's faces look like cakes left out in the rain.
Ok, this is an intensely gross story but it's relevant. There was this hot chick in my summer chemistry class at Blinn College that worked in an doctors office. She had the greatest stories. She was prepping this sweet old lady so the doctor could take a look at her old floppy vagina which by now looks like someone buried an axe in a rotting pig's carcass I'm sure. When she went to help her remove her panties her FUCKING UTERUS FELL OUT!!!! It fucking fell out! I had no idea it could do that! "It's called a prolapsed uterus.", she said.
"Oh, I'm sorry dearie, that's what I'm here to see the doctor about.", the old lady told her.
No shit! They proceeded to tuck her withering organ back into her barren cavity and staple it back into place. This is why I'm not a doctor. I'll watch every zombie movie and gore fest out there, but to actually have to deal with it on a daily basis isn't natural.
In summary, old people freak me out so I get a kick out of watching them suffer in front of a computer.
FYI: Orange & Creme KitKats are the FUCKING SHIT!!!!
Take this guy I'm training for example. He's in his late 50's and missing a tooth which doesn't help matters any. You sit this guy down in front of a computer and you'd think he was under the interragation lamp in Guantanamo Bay. He shakes, stutters, can't get the right words out of his mouth to ask a question or answer one, and is visibly uneasy. It is obvious that computers are the elderly's kryptonite. They think that every little move they make on a computer is going to erase all the data. No matter how often I tell them that it's very hard to make a mistake on a computer, they still need to have their hand held through every little cut and paste. It's like watching a monkey try to fuck a football.
In Joe Rogan's stand up he says that just because you're 65 doesn't mean I have to respect you. If you've been an asshole all your life why should I respect you now when you're an old asshole? Why should I respect you if you haven't made the effort to retire gracefully and drive off into the sunset in your new RV hopping from casino to casino and national park to national park. That's the way to go! That way you can't bother anyone, especially me. I know this sounds cold and all but I hate driving behind them, smelling them, and watching them eat. Have you ever watched an old person eat? You can see the extra skin flapping on their jowls when they chew, they don't seem to ever get the whole bite in their mouth, and they always concentrating heavily on the chewing process. Old people eat weird things too like eggs with green olives, Vienna sausages, and boiled cabbage.
Talking to old people is hard too. How can I possibly relate anything in my life to what they are going through: sickness, death, bladder problems, walkers, doctor appointments, and metimucial. Every time I call my 76 year old father on the phone and I ask what's going on, 2 out of 5 times he will mention that someone he has known for ages has died. I don't ask anymore. When they tell a story from their youth, it's usually hard for them to remember and pieces are left out. In the end, about 30 minutes of my life is wasted listening to them.
"Back when I was in college I was escorting this gal to some thing. It was this.... Uhhhhhh.... We danced to Benny Goodman and... I... We... Zzzzzzzzzz"
On my trip into town today, I just saw George Romero's "Land of the Dead." When I left I went to Walgreens to have some pictures developed. At the checkout counter I heard this horribly raspy voice behind me. When I looked up I had to do a double take because this guy looked like a fucking zombie. Sunken buggy eyes, pale, and visible veins lots and lots of visible veins on his face. Guaaaaaahhhhhh! The aging process was not good to this guy. He's not alone though, most old people's faces look like cakes left out in the rain.
Ok, this is an intensely gross story but it's relevant. There was this hot chick in my summer chemistry class at Blinn College that worked in an doctors office. She had the greatest stories. She was prepping this sweet old lady so the doctor could take a look at her old floppy vagina which by now looks like someone buried an axe in a rotting pig's carcass I'm sure. When she went to help her remove her panties her FUCKING UTERUS FELL OUT!!!! It fucking fell out! I had no idea it could do that! "It's called a prolapsed uterus.", she said.
"Oh, I'm sorry dearie, that's what I'm here to see the doctor about.", the old lady told her.
No shit! They proceeded to tuck her withering organ back into her barren cavity and staple it back into place. This is why I'm not a doctor. I'll watch every zombie movie and gore fest out there, but to actually have to deal with it on a daily basis isn't natural.
In summary, old people freak me out so I get a kick out of watching them suffer in front of a computer.
FYI: Orange & Creme KitKats are the FUCKING SHIT!!!!
Thursday, June 23, 2005
Destination: Adventure
For a man who wears bikini bottoms and fake boobs, Leslie has more balls than anyone I know. This guy woke up one day and said, "You know, I don't want to work anymore and dress up like a woman every day.", and he fucking did it. The rest of us suckers have to go to work every day and pretend to be satisfied with our lives. This abomination is happier than a pig in shit 24 friggin' 7. It's amazing really. I'm all for reckless abandon, but Jesus!
Speaking of reckless abandon, I did about 3 days in Austin a week ago and did the best I could. I managed to lose $100 in poker the first night I was there and lost another $100 the second night to the same guy. I made quite an exit that second time. I stood up and said, "That's the second time you've done that to me in two days, John Parks!" as I stormed out I shouted, "I'll see you at the bar!" Off to Cain and Able's I went.
Everyone was so young there. "Jesus, I used to fit in here", I thought. I did my best. I sat down to a table with two hot chicks and said, "Hi, I'm all by myself right now would you ladies mind if I join you." I couldn't do that back when I hung out here, but time and travel have made me numb to social situations such as these. The one named Liz was trying to get her friend to break up with her boyfriend. As the drinks went down Liz went from hot to smokin'. I couldn't stop taking her picture. She was digging me, I could tell, and they invited me to their place after the bar closed. I walked Liz back to her place and immediately hit their bottle of Jack. Drinking games commenced. After about 45 minutes or so it was my turn to make a rule. I got up and pointed to Liz, "The rule is that you have to make out with me!" Silence. Then the other guy in the room, who I'd forgotten about, said that I had overstepped my balance or something like that. Then there was talk of a supposed boyfriend she had. Nobody seemed to have a sense of humor about this situation. They were obviously not accustomed to such candidness. Feeling awkward, I turned around and walked out the door without a word. John, like the savior that he is, was right there to pick me up.
Liz, you don't know what your missing sweetheart
The next day was filled with music and friends. On the greens of Zilker Park we sat, drunk, and relaxed. A run in with the Balloonatic and some Dimatap flavored margaritas left us giddy.
Three days later I found myself white water rafting the Snake River in Jackson, Wyoming and camping out in the Tetons getting drunk off of a bottle of Southern Comfort.
Two days ago I was in Denver, Colorado touring my uncle's garden while sipping on a rum and Coke when he told me, "I've found out that poor people can live anywhere, it's the rich people who have to live in certain places." So true.
I may not be to the point of happiness that Leslie has reached with his reckless abandon, but I'm sure trying.
Sunday, June 05, 2005
Primer
Primer is one of those movies that you see sitting on the shelf of Blockbuster and put it in one of two categories: Foreign Crap or Indy Crap. This movie is neither. It's definitely Indy but certainly not crap.
Two engineers developing doo dads in their garage in their spare time stumble upon an amazing discovery. They make a time machine. Not your standard time machine but one that works on principals that are unprecedented in the movie world. The idea is that you start the device at say 12:00 PM and let it run for 24 hours. You then shut it off and clime into the device where you sleep for 24 hours and wake up when you started it. At lest that's how I think it works. I'm smart, but this movie is smarter.
They start out by investing in the stock market and betting on sports games but the real action comes at the end of the movie. Here is where I have no idea what happens. Well, I have an idea but the way it's put together doesn't make it quite clear to me.
The spookiness of the movie comes from the fact that the device seems so plausible. The reality of the situation comes from the engineering parlance and the fact that they don't know exactly how it works either. The only real problem with the movie is that it's about engineers and if you know one you know what I'm talking about. YAWN! The movie does keep you interested with the discovery of what they've created and the madness that ensues.
If you have any idea about the end of this movie I would like to hear from you. Of course the chances of someone who's seen this movie and is actually reading my little blog are very slim. I realize this.
Saturday, June 04, 2005
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