Restroom Stall Foot Tapping :(

I moved to Northwest Arkansas almost a year ago for work and I was very nervous about moving here due to the stereotypical Arkansas stigma. When I got here I realized that the Northwest is the good section of the state and I don't have a lot to worry about. But over the weekend I got a small taste of Deliverance.

I went to a thrift store with my friend, David; the store is in a dying mall with very empty hallways and more empty rooms than stores. I had to use the restroom so I walked the halls until I found what was called "Restroom Road," which is a lobby area that has a few vending machines, tables, and chairs. The lights were dim and there was a trashy looking guy sitting at one of the tables. Here is Restroom Road:

It's pretty sketchy, but you can see the tables and chairs if you look closely. Anyway, while I was sitting there doing my business a guy entered the stall directly next to mine and dropped his pants and sat down as if nature were calling. But I never heard anything happen - perhaps he was constipated? I didn't really think anything about it and just play with my phone. While playing Words with Friends, I noticed his foot was clearly visible and he was tapping it in some weird pattern. Uh oh...

I suddenly remembered the connection between foot tapping and gay sex; a few years ago a senator, Larry Craig, got busted in a sting operation where he was trying to solicit some man-love by tapping his foot in the stall as the signal. After some research, I learned the tap-method: one person starts tapping, the other taps back, and eventually their feet touch and I guess they crawl under the stall and bang each other. Well I was not interested in that, thank you very much. 

I made every conscious effort to keep my feet still while trying to hurry as fast as I could. As I started pulling the toilet paper, my admirer could tell that I was about to get away and he started to get desperate. He put his entire foot under the stall into mine and started tapping like mad! It was his last chance. I should have stomped on his foot, but I didn't, I just kinda waited because I didn't want to walk out and have him pounce on me or something. He eventually just got up and left - guess he didn't have to go after all. 

On my way out, the same guy was sitting at a table in Restroom Road and, as I got a VERY clear look at the tapper's shoes, checked this guy's shoes, and they were definitely the same. I was very disturbed so I told David what had just happened. Against better judgement, he decided to use the restroom and see if he would be propositioned as well. Tappy went in after him! David didn't stick around to see what would transpire, which is probably a good thing. I was about to go in after him and avenge my friend, but he came out unscathed.

While highly unsettling, Tap Man is very intriguing. He must just sit there all day trying his little tap dance until he gets a bite, like he's fishing (for dudes). I thought that maybe he had a Craigslist ad saying something like, "Frisco Mall, 1 o'clock, tap lessons..." or something, but I checked and couldn't find anything. He just vultures around the dead mall, looking for love... It's almost sad if it weren't so molesty.

Neighbor Kids, Precious Moments, and Rock Shows

Some of my more seasoned readers may know of my plight with the neighborhood kids; they throw redneck gang signs when I drive by, run out in front of my car, ruin my lawn mower, and set up retarded tire swings.

Recently, with the start of football season, I realized that pee-wee football practice takes place practically in my backyard. Directly beyond my fence is a large grassy area behind the elementary school administrative building. About 4 out of 5 days of the week the grassy area becomes crowded with redneck parent after redneck parent, each with lawn chairs and Snuggies. During scrimmages, the parents yell, hoot, and holler as if they are watching a real football game, although the kids are seriously like 5 years old. I get to hear all the cheering and whistle blowing all week. So that's fun.

The other neighborhood kids must have read my blog posts making fun of them because I have been finding "traps" around my duplex. I keep finding baseball-sized rocks in my driveway and in front of my mailbox, and today I found a big rock in my yard. I am assuming the purpose of these rocks for me to drive over them and ruin my car, or mow over them and ruin my lawn mower blades, but it is nearly impossible not to spot them. I'm almost certain it is the neighborhood kids because they are the only people I ever see in my neighborhood; I think they have killed all the adults and this is their warning for me to leave. Either way, I may be a nice guy, but I'm not afraid to murder a child.

Last weekend I went to Kansas with my awesome gf. On the way, there are a bunch of billboards for the Precious Moments Chapel in Cathage, Missouri. For those who don't know, yes you do - they are those horrible little figurines with the sad, sad eyes.

Every person in the Precious Moments world looks like a child, which is strange in itself, but look at that picture. It looks like someone out of frame is holding a gun to their heads and forcing them to "act natural" for a ransom picture. 

Well, despite our better judgement, we decided to stop at the Chapel and have a look around. At best, we'd get to see some creepy blog material. At worst, we'd become sex slaves in a dank, dark basement. Unfortunately, the museum was closed, but here is what you see when you walk into the chapel visitors' center.

That room is filled with giant animatronic Precious Moments figures. Their heads and arms move and it feels like they are watching you as you walk by... When you walk into the shops, you can buy whatever Precious Moments mementos you want. Walking further down the path we see this.

That's a statue of a giant baby holding a smaller, deader baby. Very creepy. We continued outside and followed the path, walking between rows and rows of terrifying figures smiling and waving at us, when we found the chapel.

It actually looks pretty cool from all the way back here. We got closer and the door was really intricate, so I took a picture.

There was some religious saying on the door I took a shot of, and I got some bonus sun rays! I didn't even mean for that to happen, but it turned out kinda cool. Perhaps it's a sign... a sign that I should leave. But instead, we went in. There were tons of Precious Moments paintings and crap all over the walls.

This place was a lot bigger than my phone's camera does justice. If you look closely, you'll see that the ceiling is covered in flying babies. That giant painting in the back there? Here it is close-up.

That's my special lady friend in front to compare size. She's like 10 feet in front of it, too. This thing was massive. If  you look, you'll see that the "Welcome" sign us upside down. That's creepy to me, kind of like an upside down cross or something. You can also find Jesus in there, if you look hard enough.

There was a LOT more to this place, but conveying the true amount of weirdness of this place would take more time than I'm willing to put in. The rest of the weekend was filled with friends and fun, and later on we found some pretty great thrift store stuff, but that will have to wait for another post.

Next subject.

On Monday, my gf asked me if I'd go to a concert with her the next night if she won tickets. I asked her how she could win tickets and she said that she'd have to listen to the radio and call in. So basically, I was not expecting to go the the concert. That seems like a super long shot. I got a phone call a couple hours later with a frantically excited girl on the other end saying she'd won the tickets she wanted! I was thoroughly impressed by this, as I have never heard of someone planning a night around such a slim possibility and it actually working in their favor.

The show was Blue October, who I hadn't heard of, but I love live music so I figured it would be fun regardless. The opener was a guitar-and-drum duo, IAMDYNAMITE, who fucking dominated. I didn't know so much energy and awesomeness could come from two people, but it was fantastic. 

Blue October was good, but a short, large Mexican guy kept grinding on me. I pushed him away several times and asked him to stop, but he kept rubbing up on me and messing with my hair. I don't think he was gay, but I am 98% sure he was on ecstasy. That whole thing ended with the guys next to me getting into it with him and security kicking him out. Everyone cheered. 

At the end of Blue October's set, they threw their picks and drumsticks to the crowd and my girlfriend got hit in the face with a pick. It was kind of awesome! I kind of wish she'd caught it in her mouth. 

As we were leaving, we saw the guys from IAMDYNAMITE mingling with the crowd, so we walked up and gave each of them big, sweaty bear-hugs. It was great :) We talked for a bit and they were super cool, and they even signed a bumper sticker and a CD I bought. Such a fun night! I'd never heard of them before last night, but from here on out, I'm sold. 

Thrift Store Adventures: Offensive Shirts!

I usually don't dig through the clothes at thrift stores. Maybe because I know that the stores don't wash any of the clothes that come in. But I should start perusing the clothing section more often, because when I do I find amazing shirts like these - one sacrilegious, one politically insensitive!

This first shirt is absolutely phenomenal. I found it at Goodwill hidden among the various wolf and dreamcatcher shirts that are all the rage this season. I came near the end of the rack and was about to give up hope when I saw this beauty:

Glorious! It has a giant picture of that Jesus guy with a crown of thorns and a bloody wrist. It looks as though he just got down from the cross and is about to say, "Now see here, guys..." The top of the shirt reads "RELIANCE" in red, bloody letters. I could not believe my eyes when I saw this. I figured that since Goodwill is a religious thrift store, this had to be some super creepy, over-the-top religious shirt that some overzealous Christian wore; I AM in the Bible Belt after all.

Then I looked it up and saw that Goodwill has no religious affiliation. And that Reliance is a skateboard brand. So a more likely scenario is that some punk's mom didn't like her son's tasteless shirt and made him donate it to charity where it ultimately ended up in my hands. So I salute you, offended mother!

Although I can see very few situations where this shirt would be appropriate, I DID wear it the day I found it because I would only be seeing close friends that day. But then I forgot what I was wearing. I went to the store on the way to my friends' house and could not understand why everyone was eyeballing me so hard. A group of Mexican guys walked up to me, all intimidating and stuff, and just kinda glared a bit until they reached right in front of me to grab something off the shelf. True story. When I went up to pay I finally realized what I was wearing and it all made sense. This is a dangerous shirt for a skinny white guy.

The next shirt was in the same store, same day.

The reason it caught my eye is because of the KΣ and ΣΦE. That may require some background. When I was a freshman at Baker University in Kansas (a private Methodist school - though I am neither private nor Methodist) I joined a fraternity, Kappa Sigma. Yes, I know, it seems unlikely that I was in a fraternity, but it's true. Anyway, it was a small school and our rival fraternity was Sigma Alpha Epsilon. Our frat had a human skull that had been stolen by the other fraternity (supposedly) so I found this shirt mildly interesting, what with the skull and crossbones and the giant "WANTED" across the top.

Then I looked at the shirt a little closer... Hmm... "America's Most Wanted - September 11, 2002." Some of you may remember an event that happened exactly one year prior to that date - something called the "September 11 attacks."

This can mean one of two things: 1) Osama Bin Laden joined a fraternity to blend in, but got a little over-excited and decided to make shirts about it, or 2) these frat boys are idiots. I want to know who okayed the idea to have a big party on the one-year anniversary of a huge terrorist attack AND make t-shirts with a skull and crossbones to commemorate it. Seems like someone would have given that a second thought. Oh yeah, I'm in Arkansas.

I had other shirts, but they are not nearly as entertaining as those two. So instead, here is a picture illustrating my failure as a primate:

I don't know how I ever evolved. 

Stupid Kids in my Neighborhood - The Tire Swing!

I have written about these dumb kids several times now, and it appeared as though they weren't getting any smarter. But on my way to work this morning, I noticed something. Something that may, in fact, be a redeeming quality. Remember the tall-ass tree they were climbing? Well I saw that they were trying to build something - there was a pile of rocks around the tree and some chairs. Maybe they were making a fort? Then I noticed they added a tire swing, something not just any Arkansan child can do. Then I drove a bit closer and saw the tire swing in all its glory:

Haha, just kidding, I knew this thing was crap the second I saw it

Yes, that is a BICYCLE tire swing. While still technically a "tire swing," it kind of misses the point. And the fact that I live in Arkansas shows itself again. Sorry for the bad picture; I had to zoom in quite a bit because I thought that walking up and taking pictures in some random little kids' play area seemed creepier than I prefer to be.

Spiders in My Bed!

I was gone all weekend for Memorial Day festivities (which were awesome) and so my duplex was left unattended. I returned last night. When I finally decided to crawl into bed, everything seemed normal - at first. But then, I felt something slightly cold and slightly wet around my knee. I figured I had just spilled a drop of water or something like that so I paid it no mind.

I set my phone's alarm and went to plug it in only to realize that my phone charger was still in my bag from the trip! So I threw the covers off of me to grab the charger, and I noticed I had a friend in bed with me:

Waiting for me to fall asleep so it can crawl into my nightmares

Unfortunately for the spider, I didn't feel like cuddling that night so I had to kick him out. It was rather shocking, so I then proceeded to check inch-for-inch in and around my bed for any more cuddle-buddies. I heard a statistic once that people swallow like 8 spiders a year in their sleep, so maybe he was just a suicidal spider waiting for his chance to crawl down my throat? Probably not though, as Snopes says that that's a fake statistic.

Either way, sleep tight! Don't let the wolfies bite! 

Random Pictures From My Phone, Part 2!

I previously posted a bunch of random pictures I took with my old phone with some descriptions of each. This is same thing, except it'll be with my new phone. Mostly.

Due to the large Hispanic population where I live, I decided to try one of the Mexican restaurants once I got here. I figured it would be the best Mexican food ever. Instead, what I got was this:

Yes, that's a whole fish covered in onions. A fish... and onions... No thank you. Ok, I didn't actually order this, but it was definitely on the menu and I'd like to know how many people have ever ordered this dish. I imagine that the one shown above is the only fish and onions that they've ever had to make, but who knows, maybe I'm missing out on something magical. I also notice that there are five beers sitting next to the fish dish. I can only assume that they are included with the meal to make it somewhat palatable. 

Last week there were a bunch of craft fairs here in Arkansas, which I'm told is a pretty big deal, so I decided to check out all the hubbub. Pretty sure I was the youngest person there and in the 1 percentile of males. Most vendors were watching me like crazy, hoping I'd buy something, so I had to be sneaky when snapping photos. I would pretend to be texting someone, even throwing in a fake laugh now and then. That's how I got this beauty: 

And I use the word "beauty" loosely. Yuck. These things are awful, especially that thing with the long neck in the upper left.

I saw this restaurant in Abilene, Kansas. Of course, I had to stop. I ordered my meal, and I'll tell ya what, the waitress lived up to the restaurant's name; she was a huge kuntz. 

This one is a bit older, but it is from a university newspaper. I don't know if the paradox is intentional or not, but it sure made me laugh!

I went to Wesport, in Kansas City, a couple weeks ago. Walking around in a cooking shop, I found this little number:

 That's right,  it's a black pot-scrubbing servant, complete with bristly hair. I'm pretty surprised they let this fly considering how PC everything is nowadays. 

Yesterday I heard some rustling in the bushy area right outside my bedroom window. The first thought that came to mind was the Lord-of-the-Flies-esque kids from my neighborhood, so I went to the window and opened the blinds. I wouldn't have been the least bit surprised to find one of the kids out there, but it was only a cat. Playing in a big patch of poison ivy. By the time I got my phone out to take a picture it had jumped onto my window sill. 

There was also a brown stain on its forehead which looked like motor oil. There is another strange cat down the street from me. Whenever I drive past, he jumps down in the storm drain. Not sure exactly where the storm drain goes, but there can't be anything healthy down there. Moral: stay away from the cats in Arkansas.

I went to the local neighborhood Harp's grocery store to pick up some green peppers, and this was the store's entire green pepper selection:

Not a single one of the four looked edible. I did without the green peppers or that meal. But along the way, I noticed something else of interest in the produce section. Something Pedobear would take great interest in:

Ah, Ripe & Easy, just the way I like 'em! I imagine the marketing guy's thought process went something like this:

"OK, we need a good label for our kiwis... Something to really grab the shoppers' attention. Well, kiwis are easy to eat, and the ones we sell are ripe, so Ripe & Easy seems logical. And who loves kiwis more than tiny asian girls! The shopper can clearly see that the hairy brown balls inside are kiwis, so we'll just use size 2 font for the word "kiwi" here. Perfect! I'm goin' on break."

In my previous Random Phone Pictures article, I promised I would show you guys my previous years' Halloween costumes, so here's one from a couple years back. 

I'm sorry about this :(

Gold suit man. 

Try not to get too hot over this pic.

More Neighborhood Kid Strangeness!

I've talked in excess about the gangs of little kids roving the streets in my neighborhood. Mostly doing really dumb things. For example, the other day they were having Razr scooter races in the middle of the road. I was in my car, so I probably could have beat them, but I didn't want to show off. But mostly, their antics have nothing to do with me and I hardly even think about them. This particular incident, however, did have something to do with me.

A few weeks ago I was minding my own business, writing a blog post, when I got a ring on the doorbell. Considering I don't really know anyone down here, I was slightly surprised, but figured it was just someone trying to sell me some moonshine. Get it, it's an Arkansas stereotype, cuz I live here now. I found it from this fun list of Arkansas stereotypes!

EDIT: Good news! I also just text messaged ChaCha to give me some Arkansas stereotypes! Here is their answer:

"Arkansas stereotypes include people keeping pallets, old tires, abandoned trucks and parts lying around. ChaCha!"

Thanks, ChaCha, you never let me down. Anyway, back to the story. So the doorbell rings, and I was pretty cautious, because what if it was the Craigslist killer? I may not match his victim description, but he could be changing things up! I opened the door and it was just one of the neighborhood kids on his bike. He had a puffy face like he'd been crying, and he was staring at the ground. He asked if I had a lawn mower, which kind of took me aback. He talked very quietly. He said that it didn't matter if I let him use it or not, which if that's the case, why even ask? I said that I did and that he could, and it seemed pretty obvious he was being punished to mow the lawn or something, and so the rest of the discussion went as follows:

"Are you in trouble or something?"
"No, I'm not in trouble."
"So your parents need to use the lawn mower?"
"No, I need to use the mower."
"It's a push mower. Do you know how to use it?"
"Yes, I mowed my uncle's lawn once."
"Why do you look so sad?"
"I'm not sad."

But he was fucking sad. Or just ultra socially awkward. Which is kind of sad. Anyway, he took the mower over to his yard (which already looked mowed), and mowed like a champion for like 15 minutes and brought it right back. Pretty strange exchange (haha, "strange exchange"). I thought that was the end of it. An isolated incident that I would tell my friends about but they wouldn't believe me, or care.

Until it happened again, when I had friends over! The first time, he rang the doorbell only once. This time I could have sworn there was an ice cream truck in my living room; he was going nuts on that doorbell. I answered and he had the same sullen demeanor, and he asked the question: "can I borrow your lawn mower." Well gas is pretty expensive, and by this point he'd used the lawn mower as many times as I had. So instead of answering his question, I looked at his hand and noticed his finger looked bloody, so I asked what was wrong with his finger. He said it was only mud, but I'm still skeptical.

Anyway, he took the mower, but he kept it much longer this time. He had it for so long that my friends and I went for a walk until he was finished, and when we got back, he was mowing my duplex-mate's yard! We went back inside, and I heard him mowing my yard too, but just the front yard. My words here cannot describe how odd this was. Maybe he felt like repaying me for letting him use the mower, or maybe he expected me to pay him? I don't know. Either way, I kind of hope this keeps up; if so, I'll never have to mow my front yard again.

The one thing I don't get is why he mowed my neighbor's yard. I barely see her, and we've spoken like three times total. I imagine her internal monologue went something like this: "Whelp. Just pullin' into the ol' driveway. Wait, what's this, my yard is mowed? But I didn't mow today, by golly! Hmm, the neighbor I rarely talk to has his yard mowed too. I bet he mowed my yard, but why?? Is this a friendly gesture and now he expects me to make him a casserole? Or did he take pictures of me in the bathroom through the window and this is how he's repaying me!?"

Arkansas.

Loneliness, County Jail, and Boners!

I'm feeling rather bored and lonesome today. Not my default setting, but there it is. I've been on my Arkansan adventure for about three months now and I haven't really gotten out there and tried too hard to make friends, so it's really my own fault. But in my own defense, I have been in school for the last 22 years of my life and it's way easier to meet people at school rather than at a job. It's especially easy meeting people in kindergarten, but I'll go into that in a little bit.

If I were living out the game The Sims right now, the diamond above my head would be green (meaning I'm happy) but my social bar would be very low.

That's exactly how I'm dressed in real life, too

Yes, getting that picture required me to find my copy of Sims 3, remember how to play, disallow my character to talk to anyone, not even his wife, for like 3 Sim-days, take a screenshot, and circle the Social bar in MSPaint. And I feel that that only illustrates my point. My Sim-wife is in the background playing video games on the computer, she didn't even care I was ignoring her. All this sulking makes me feel like Marvin the Paranoid Android. On the bright side, I realized how much fun that game is and played for a while. Much like my unloving virtual wife.

This Ides of March, however, seems to have smiled on me. I went for Chinese food for lunch today and my fortune was pretty encouraging, given my current state.

... in bed

I guess that means I can just lay back, relax, and watch the people get sucked into my orbit. But it better happen soon, there's only 2 weeks left this month! I'll keep you guys updated.

Last week I went on a site visit in Tulsa, OK for work. We are replacing all the lights in an old municipal building so we had to head over there and take light levels in each and every room. That meant going into all the locked or rarely seen rooms. I got to go into the police chief's office, a closet I'm sure no one has been in for many, many years (lots of super old computer manuals. And mold.) and of course... the jail! At first I didn't the cops were going to let us in there, but I was happy when I saw them unlocking the door. 

Unfortunately, I didn't get any pictures. I really, really wanted to, but I wasn't sure of how legal that was, considering they had 2 prisoners in there. The place smelled like sweat and poop. There was also tons of names carved into the cell walls, as if the prisoners throughout the years were proud to have been there... "CrotchThumper wuz here." The prisoners themselves were pretty boring, they were just laying in bed at like 1 pm. They watched us when we walked in, but I guess us talking about light fixtures was boring because they rolled over with their backs to us. The solitary confinement room was really gross. It was very dim, and it smelled worse than the rest of the jail. I looked up at the light and noticed what appeared to be blood splattered on it. Quite a work trip, indeed.

This story is kind of embarrassing, or kind of awesome, depending on how you look at it. I wasn't even going to put this on ol' Bloggy in the first place, but after figuring I'd gone to school for 22 years, something is compelling me to write this...

The date: 1991. The place: Mrs. Golliday's Kindergarten class. It was a normal day in class. I was sitting in Green Frog, the seating section I had been assigned, along with 5 of my classmates. We were filling out a connect-the-dots, a task I rather enjoyed and at which I considered myself quite good. That day, I wore a standard t-shirt and some gray sweat pants. I was a true fashion bug. 

By that point in my life, I had started getting boners. I can't remember when it started, but I believe I was somewhat an early bloomer. In fact, I just did a quick Google search that I will probably regret when I wind up in jail for child porn accusations. But that's not the point. The point is, I got them, and I had one that day in kindergarten class. Let me tell you, those gray sweatpants did nothing to hide it. Heck, I didn't even know I was SUPPOSED to hide it; I knew you weren't supposed to go waving it around, but I can't help it if it's there. 

The girl sitting next to me (I remember who, but I'll never tell... unless you ask nicely) saw my situation and asked what it was. I asked what she was talking about and she said, "That!" and pointed at it. I wasn't sure how to react to such a situation, so I was just like, "Uhh.." She said, "Is that a crayon eraser? Why did you put that in your pants?" and laughed, thinking I'd put an eraser in my pants as a joke. She was so naive.

I was packin'

She then started grabbing my junk and trying to pick up the "Crayon eraser" through my pants. I just kind of let it happen, no one had ever touched me there before and I was waaaay too young to enjoy it. I don't remember anything that happened after that moment. It was just a really, really weird experience and it was strange enough to stick with me all these years. I've barely told anyone that story, but now I've told everyone. You're welcome, Internet.

Take me away, feds.

Mexican Beverage Review!

I went grocery shopping at my new favorite grocery store, Harp's, and discovered that there are a lot of Mexican/Hispanic items there. That is likely due to the high population of Hispanic people in the area.

I took advantage of this and decided to try some different Mexican drinks I saw around the store, which were strangely all in different places. 

First up is Kern's Strawberry Kiwi Nectar. 

I didn't know this until I researched it a little after deciding to write this review, but Kern's is from California, not Mexico, so this list already fails. Perhaps it was the Spanish translation of "Strawberry Kiwi" that threw me off. Anyway, I will proceed with the review anyway, pretending this is straight from Tijuana. 

The first thing I notice is the little hummingbird at the top left corner. He seems cheery enough, but it got me wondering why they decided to put a hummingbird on their can. Don't hummingbirds basically drink sugar water with food coloring? Well, after tasting the drink, it became clear that this drink is basically just that. It is very sweet and sugary. I probably wouldn't mind it if I were in middle school, but with my more mature tastes, the sweetness makes me say "gross." 

The nectar does indeed have a strawberry kiwi kind of taste, but it is thicker than I expected, with a consistency of pulp free orange juice. Considering I drank this warm, mixed with the instant diabetes I got from the sugar, it was not a very pleasant experience. 

Final Score: C-

Next up is Jumex Guanabana Nectar. 

Guanabana?

My research tells me "it's not 'jew-mex' you racist, it's 'hu-mex.'" On a side note, my research is kind of an asshole. I got this because, well, what the hell is a guanabana??? I looked it up, and the picture on the can does not do this "fruit" justice. This thing is an alien.

Yuck

Extra yuck

The thing that gets me is that sometime, long ago, someone said "I want that in my mouth." The pile of wet, slimy, squishy stuff in the picture above certainly looks appetizing. 

The can says it is 100% nectar, and that it is from concentrate. The back of the can informs me that this product contains 20% juice. Something does not seem right, but going back and looking at the Kern's, I see that THAT is 20% juice as well. I also notice that I picked up two cans of "nectar." Yikes, I have a feeling I am in for another warm, sweet, thick experience, much like the experiences I have while wearing beer goggles. 

The taste is indeed thick, but not nearly as sweet as the Strawberry Kiwi. The best way I can describe it is that it tastes like milky pineapple juice. The nectar is also very light colored so it kind of drives the milky pineapple thing home. This would probably be pretty good in a mixed beverage, which will lead me to the beer goggles, and this whole thing will become a vicious cycle. 

Worth it though.

Final Score: B.2

The last drink I bought is Refresco Goya Coconut Soda.

Hooray, not another nectar! This coconut soda promises to be delicious, but at a price. And that price is $2.15. Yep, I paid over 2 bucks for a Mexican soda I'd never heard of. But heck, I like soda, and I like coconut. And I like Latinas. So there's no way I can go wrong here, right?

Well one good thing about this soda is that it tastes EXACTLY like coconuts. The bad thing about it is it tastes EXACTLY like coconuts. Raw coconuts, like if you buy one from the store and drink its blood. It is, however, my favorite drink of the bunch, probably because it's not another damn nectar. That Kern's hummingbird wouldn't come near this shit. 

Final Score: B+

Looks like we didn't have any solid winners this time, but what can you expect from random Mexican drinks? From a $2.15 drink? A lot, that's what. But you probably won't get it, and that's okay. It's the journey that counts, not the destination. I'm not sure if that quote fits, but that's what I'm going with.

Long, Random Post!

It has been some time since I posted a blog, and it's not because I hate you guys (I only strongly dislike). It is because I have been involved in numerous other sources of entertainment so after work I had to carefully allocate my time, and most of that time has been given to Veronica Mars. Yes, the same Veronica Mars that has been cancelled for 4 years and was probably mainly marketed to girls. Don't let that cloud your opinion, that show is intense as shit. Plus... Kristen Bell. Just Sayin'.

I've also been deep into Under the Dome by Stephen King, which I discussed here. I spend about 2 hours a night reading that crazy book, and I can read about 50 pages in those 2 hours. The book is 1074 pages long. So if my math is correct, and after some rounding, this book will take me 43 hours to read. And I'll tell ya, I'm gonna enjoy all 43 of those hours, even though I may absolutely hate some of the characters at the moment.

I figure in this post I'll just kind of fill you in on what's been going on while I've been ignoring my blogging duties. This is going to be very random. First off, there is a dead cat on the side of the road that I guess some car has hit. It's been there for about a week, but tonight when I drove home I noticed some of the nice kids have spray painted it blue. I know it was spray paint because they left the paint can sitting next to it, obviously proud of their work. These kids are our future, people. Actually, I take that back; the only person to make it big from Arkansas is Bill Clinton, and well... Yeah.

I DID however find a great grocery store to shop at! I may have mentioned how my favorite place to shop was Price Cutter, which is in the next town over. So if I wanted to get a few things I'd have to take a 20 minute drive to do so. Or I could just shop at Walmart which is right near me, but who wants to shop there? Not this guy. Then I found a wonderful store, Harps, which is much, much closer to me! I actually think they're owned by the same people, but this store is far superior, in a they're-not-superior kind of way! It reminds me of the small-town store my hometown used to have when I was little, Buy-Rite. Just imagine Arkansas. Like, stereotypical Arkansas. Now imagine going to a grocery store in the place you just imagined. This Harp's is that place! I went there tonight to pick up some supplies for a Taco Lasagna I plan on making, and it called for a green pepper. I go to the green peppers. I got to choose from a selection of 5, and those 5 were really more sea-green peppers. It was awesome. I took some pictures, but they might be kinda blurry cuz I took them kind of quickly. I was getting some looks from the bumpkins, me with my fancy cell-yoo-lurr phone.

The milk coolers had no lights, or if they did they were burnt out

The entire produce department, plus half of the floral

A dining area, but I saw no deli

Beautiful Bentonville. Woulda been better without all the trucks

In fact, there were two moving trucks in the parking lot, from two different companies. I can only assume that Harp's saves money on shipping stock by renting their own trucks. I also love Harp's because my cashier looked like he was straight from prison. I am almost surprised I didn't see a teardrop tattoo on his face, and his breath reeked of booze. I was so excited! Clearly, this is my new grocery store.

So, I will make that taco lasagna sometime this week, and I hope it turns out good, but here is my last attempt at cooking:

Don't judge a meatloaf by it's elephant-man-like cover

It looks awful, but actually tasted pretty good! If you can't tell (and I'm sure you can't) it is meatloaf. And although it ended up tasting okay, I wouldn't eat it while looking/thinking about my dog. 

In other news, I've had a lemon since the day I moved to Arkansas, 3 months ago. I never used it, and it just kind of lounged on my counter. It got all dry and shrively.

It's still good, right?

Instead of doing the normal, mature, I-just-moved-away-and-got-my-first-big-boy-job thing by throwing it away, I decided to dissect it, which proved to be much more fruitful (haha puns). The inside wasn't super exciting, but it DID smell just like Lemonheads candy. Win!

Grab me a Corona!

After the experiment, I went to Macadoodle's. It was a pretty common trip until I was leaving and noticed a Truck in the parking lot with an interesting license plate. At first, the graphic around the plate is what grabbed my attention; it's not everyday you see a dog on a plate. Then I read the vanity plate and had to laugh.

Don't sit on that seat

FAP!? Hahahaha, oh man, that's amazing. I don't even know if it is intentional, but between the FAP license plate and the sticker of Calvin having bodily fluids sprayed in his face by the wind... Well, it's just classic. If you don't know why "fap" is funny, you are probably either too old, or too popular and aren't online as much as I am. Explanation. 

Hmm, what else... I went to a thrift store and saw a lifesize cutout of basketballer, Dr. J.

The picture turned out blurry and his hands and feet are cut off cuz the camera operator is a noob. But the cutout was $20, a steal in most cases, especially considering Mr. Julius Erving played in the 70's and 80's, so this thing had to be old. But his arms were being supported by tape and paint-mixers. He's obviously out of practice if he has to use arm splints just to hold a cardboard basketball. Sheesh. 

So, over the weekend a friend came down and we bought a video game called Amnesia: The Dark Descent. It is a horror/survival game which got pretty good reviews, getting praises such as "scariest game ever," or "I pooped my pants." The usual. Well, I love horror movies and have played every Resident Evil and Silent Hill, along with Dead Space and all those kind of games. I'm pretty used to these kinds of games, and am familiar with most of their scare tactics. Well, Amnesia is different. For one, you don't have any weapons, but there are monsters. And they're fast as shit, too. 

Oh sweet God, get it away!

And the screen goes blurry if you look at the bad guys too long, which makes it even creepier. Your guy is combating insanity in this game, so it makes sense I guess. I have never screamed out loud during a video game until this game, and that was while playing with a friend, but it was okay when he was here. But when he left and I played it by myself. At night. With the lights out? Good Lord. At one point I was at a foggy location with suspenseful music, and so I was wide-eyed and looking at the screen, and I guess I leaned forward because the chair squeaked. Shitballs, man... I about pooped my pants. The review was right. Also, being 25 years old I haven't had a nightmare in years. My brain is smart enough to not worry about house creaks and what not, but not that night. I actually had to get up and watch funny videos online for a while before I could get back to sleep. Yikes.

Ok. You should be about caught up now. I did get some good stuff at the thrift store, but that will have to wait for another day. In the meantime, keep on fappin'.

Stupid Kids in my Neighborhood!

I may have mentioned the amount of little kids always running around my neighborhood. I don't actually have a lot in my cul-de-sac, but the adjacent streets are packed full of kids. I usually see them riding their bicycles in gangs, or just running around in the grass. It makes life stressful too; after a hard day at work I'm too tired to watch the road to avoid running over these Arkansas spawn. They should know, if something happens, it's not my fault.

Today on my drive home I saw a pack of them sitting on skateboards riding down their driveway. Into the street.  I didn't hit one. So I rounded the corner and noticed a branch on of of the taller trees in the neighborhood shaking up and down. What were they up to now? They were climbing the tree. Pretty freakin' high too. Look:

And this was on their way down. It's kind of hard to see, but right below the shirtless one there is another. Where are these kids' parents? Seeing the number of little kids around makes me kind of paranoid; I don't want them peeking through my windows at night or something. Trust me, it happens. I used to do it.

Entry 1: Part 3 - The Final Part

Parts 1 and 2 below.

I don't have any friends down here yet, so when I heard that a coworker's band was playing at a bar in Fayetteville (about 30 minutes south of me) I figured it was the perfect opportunity to carouse and maybe find a lady friend. Well, what with security deposits, first and last months' rent, getting a new phone because T-Mobile no workie so good down here, paying off student loans, and basic living expenses, my bank account was running on fumes. Nevertheless, I figured a cheap night out watching a band and maybe having a couple drinks would be okay. I earned it, right?

I get to Fayetteville and park in the parking garage (I guess having to pay for parking is a very recent addition in Fayetteville) and proceed, by myself, to a bar I've never been to. I walk inside and some old guy is glaring at me expectantly. I say hi and he says there's a $5 cover. Well thanks to the parking garage I only had $4.05, so I tried to cut a bargain with him.

Me: "Well, I have about $4. Will that cut it?"

Geezer: "About $5 will cut it."

Me: "Oh, come on, you can let it slide this time right?"

Geezer: "The cover is $5."

Me: "I have money on my card, if I promise to buy drinks with it and tip, can you let me in for $4."

Geezer: "It's $5. Besides, if you spend money on drinks you'll have even less to pay cover with."

Me (under my breath): "Fuck you, old man. You make no sense."

I'm a bit steamed, but I head back outside to brave the weather and try to find an ATM in a town I've never been to. I figured that since I drove all this way, plus it being a Friday night and my coworker's band was playing, it might be worth it. I finally found an ATM and it charges me a $4 service fee. The steam continues to build.

I got back inside and hand Scrooge my $5 and decide to order a drink. A rum and coke. A normal rum and coke in a normal establishment is like $6, max. Well the bartender makes it and tells me it's $13, and with the customary $1 tip, I'm well on my way to blasting through all my bank account's fumes. I don't see anyone I know at the bar, and the crowd is all 40+, so I become the stereotypical wallflower and chug my overpriced drink to drown my sorrows.

After the show I finally meet up with some work friends and they invite me to a restaurant to eat and chat, which I agree to. "First," I say, "I must put money in my parking spot because it expires soon." I'm told that a ticket should only be like 4 bucks so I'm not too worried and head over to the restaurant, but another person tells me that if my car gets booted it is a $100 fine. Since my feeble bank account could handle no such stress, I went to check on my car. "It should be fine, I'm only 15 minutes late," I tell myself. But sure enough, there are 2 bright yellow boots on my tires and a sticker on the window telling me to call a number to get the boots removed for $100. I went back to my party and told them that I would not be joining them for tea and crumpets as my steam level had risen past the point of good spirits. I go back to my car and I call the number and am told it'll be $105 for them to come help me. I'm now fully prepared to overdraft my bank account.

Just then a security car pulls up and this nice old man gets out and asks to see my ticket. I pull the ticket out of my pocket to show him and he says, "Well you are supposed to place this ticket on the dashboard so we can see it." I tell him that I was just following the big sign that read, "HOLD ONTO TICKET AS PROOF OF PAYMENT." He tells me that I should have ignored that sign and followed the other sign saying to place it on my dashboard. I flash him a "really??" look and he assures me that he will remove the boots, noticing I have Kansas tags. He warns me that the other security guard is not as nice, and I thank him for understanding.

Just then my bank account gave a sigh of relief.

With the good news, I decide to go find my new work friends at the restaurant, but two of them are missing. After questioning their absence, I'm told that they rounded up $100 and were out looking for me to help me pay for my new boots, and it was as if all my steam had been released. I was very thankful, and enjoyed the rest of the evening. All's well that ends well I guess, right?

Entry 1: Part 2

Part 1 below.

So housing is really cheap here. In fact, it is 38% cheaper. I found a decently nice duplex (which is right down the street from Walmart) and I like it pretty well so far. I moved in right before Christmas. I didn't want to, but I also didn't want to keep paying to live in the crappy hotel I was staying in. Due to bad timing, the utility company would not turn on the heat until the Monday after Christmas, so it was VERY cold for my first leg of the journey . Not to mention that I couldn't get a moving truck that weekend because of the holiday. So I was sleeping on the floor in the cold (see "Survivorman" below).

The landlord put in new carpet and fresh paint before I moved in, so that was nice. What's not so nice is that the carpets shed like mad! Since I was sleeping on the floor, I would wake up covered in these tiny, shiny, gold fibers all over my body. They got everywhere, including my clothes so I'd have to go into my new job looking like I put on glitter or something. Clearly something had to be done. I went to Walmart and got a vacuum cleaner that had good ratings on walmart.com and proceeded to fix this mess once and for all. Well about 1/3 the way through the room the vacuum cleaner was full - completely full - of these stupid hairs.

The PowerForce was doing its damn job

I don't think that top compartment is even supposed to have anything in it, let alone a million little fibers (funny reference lololololololol). So I cleaned it out and continued vacuuming the room. I decided it would be fun to collect all the sheddings and show my friends how cool I was, but I gave up after two loads when I started getting pissed off. 

Seriously, that's a LOT of hairs for like 60 square feet!

In the middle of my third attempt, the vacuum started whining a lot and the motor was slowing down, obviously not happy with such a daunting task on its first day of duty. It eventually stopped picking up hairs and the room was filling with a burning smell, so I opened up the instructions and proceeded to go through the troubleshooting section. All airways were clear, the filters were clean, and the spinny thing was spinning. According to the manual, the next step is to return the product, and considering the vacuum wasn't even a day old I bagged up the vacuum, grabbed the receipt and went back to Walmart to wait in the returns line. The week after Christmas.

Once it was my turn at customer service, I was not greeted kindly, nor celebrated for bringing in the receipt as I expected, but the first thing the cust serv chick did was open the flap on the vacuum box and point to a tiny little message that read "Do not return to the store. Call 1-800-blahblahblah." This message was not on the outside of the package, nor did I see it when I opened the box, so buyer beware I guess. I figured I'd call Bissell and they'd tell me to take it right back, so I called right in the store and they must have heard the busy background because they advised me to go home so I could troubleshoot the problem. After many grrrs and groans later, I decided to go home and call. 

After going through the troubleshooting process on the phone, I was told I'd have to drive 2 hours to bring it to a vacuum dealership to get it fixed. All for a >$50 vacuum cleaner! So I asked why I couldn't just return it to the store. after all, I had the receipt. She said "oh, well if it's within 90 days you can return the product to the store. This number is for products outside the 90 day window." More grrrs. I called up Walmart and (in a not-so-friendly manner) told the phone answerer my situation and she said, "well I don't know why the customer service associate didn't accept the return, bring it back in, it should be no problem." 

I packed it back up and waited in line again, and got a different person behind the counter. She tried to pull the same crap, but eventually a manager came out and after lots of unnecessary calling around I finally got my refund. Phew. Not so happy with Walmart's return policy. 

After all that I thought I'd pick up a shower curtain rod because I'd been taking showers without one. If you've never had to do this, I don't recommend it. It's not very relaxing trying to angle your body just right so water doesn't splash all over the place and at the same time cleanse your body. So I went to Lowe's (after decided against conducting any more business with Walmart) to get my curtain rod. It was a bit pricier but probably worth it; their customer service couldn't be worse than what I just experienced. I got home and the stupid curtain rod was broken. Grrr....

Entry 1: Part 1

Here I am in Northwest Arkansas. After 6 months of being unemployed after school at KU in Kansas I finally found a job in Rogers, AR. I now live in Bentonville, AR (yes, the home of Walmart) which is basically connected to Rogers.

Now, although this site is not all about life in NWA, part of it is. Especially this part. So the first thing I noticed when I moved down here was all the traffic. For a small(ish) city in the Arkansas Ozarks, I sure was surprised. I've been told it's due to all the Walmart traffic, and the fact that Rogers basically exploded in popularity over the past several years (heck, it's supposedly one of the best places to live!). I also found out that the reality TV family of 19 (and counting) the Duggars live just south of me, so I'm sure that generates plenty of traffic as well. The worst part of it is that no one around here seems to know how to drive! I thought Overland Park, KS drivers were bad, but these AR drivers are comparable to sharing the road with Mr. Miyagi (because he's dead, not because he's Asian. Jeez).

Anyway, I really hate traffic, but I digest. My main forms of entertainment are my computer, my XBox, and my internet. I find that I don't really watch much TV, and when I do it is stuff I can just watch on Hulu anyway. Even a pretty basic TV package is about $750 a year, so for me it's not worth it. Oh, and by this point my TV was still in Kansas, so when I ordered my package from Cox (hehe) I gladly checked "Internet Only." Besides, all I really need is my computer.

Unfortunately, when I moved down here my video card started going to shit on me. It was a pretty nice/expensive card when I got it, too (an Nvidia Geforce 9800GX2 for any of you nerds). It would show crazy red designs all over the screen and make it difficult to watch or read anything. it eventually completely died and would not display anything on the screen. Luckily, I had the internet, my XBox, and my computer monitor, so I had to MacGyver it and make do. It was a lot like Survivorman; I was barely surviving.