Hip Hip Harrah

My dad and I are currently traveling California. We’ve never taken a long trip like this before just us 2. I’ve never really got to travel California, and my dad has family is LA that he hasn’t seen in 20 some years. We flew into San Francisco yesterday. I flew from Charlotte, and my dad flew from Indianapolis. Miraculously, our planes landed at the same time. I flew in a suit yesterday because I’m going to a show in Vegas that prefers you to wear business professional. Let me speak to the men real quick. If you’re looking for a power trip, wear a suit when flying. I had multiple people beg for my forgiveness when running into me, and the kicker is: it wasn’t even their fault, but I played the “it’s cool but don’t let it happen again” card. I had an infant call me “da-ddy.” Presuming this was the child’s first word, I stepped aside from my cool guy act for a moment and cracked a half open smile. I got a scotch on the plane because I had 2 “free drink” coupons I had to use on my flight by the end of the year or they’d expire. Actually, who am I kidding? I did it because I was at the peak of my power trip and that’s what we as certified-jackasses-who-think-because-they-wear-a-suit-they-can-be-a-jackass do. So, my power trip was going fantastic, then my dad and I meet for the first time in the San Francisco airport. My dad saw me and said in that overly-excited dad voice in front of everybody, “Hey! You’re lookin’ sharp!” I was all like, “daaaaad” in my “embarrassed teenager” voice. My cover was blown. Power trip ended.

Straight from the airport we drove to Lake Tahoe, which is where we are currently. It was about a 3 hour drive, but it took us 4 because: 1. We had to stop at In’N’Out Burger and B. We stopped at least 3 times to take pictures of the scenery because it’s incredible. My dad wanted to stay at Harrah, which is a hotel/casino. My dad was just as excited about the hotel room than he was the scenery. Our room has two bathrooms, which is pretty cool. Before I go on, you should know that my dad enjoys the simplest of things. That’s all. With that being said, my dad called me into his bathroom to show me that his toilet seat was one of those that you couldn’t slam shut, but was one that shuts gradually on its own. When I was in Japan, one of my hotel rooms had a toilet that you could press a button and water surges out of the toilet, cleaning out your arse before you wipe. See, I thought it was weird, whereas my dad would have been on his knees in worship.

We got back to our hotel from dinner last night at around 8:30. My goal was to stay up until 10 there time which is 1am my time. My dad asked if I wanted to join him at the blackjack table. I joined him so I could try to beat my jet lag. Sorry, I forgot to explain why I was so tired. I got up at 4am to catch my 6am flight. I traveled 9 hours to San Fran, then got in a car and drove another 4 hours to Lake Tahoe. Anyways, I was at the blackjack table and my dad asked me if I knew how to play. I arrogantly laughed, “Yes I know how to play.” My dad replied, “Ok…” in that “you don’t know what the hell you’re getting into” voice. The first hand I was dealt I wanted to stay, so I told the dealer just that. She said that I had to slide my cards under my chips. The hardest part about blackjack is communicating to the dealer that you want to stay. I was having great difficulty sliding my cards under my chips. My left hand was doing all of the work, so I reached out my right hand to lift the chips up so that I could slide my cards under. As I reached out my right hand, the dealer said, “Nope you can only use one hand, and you can’t touch your chips when you’ve already bet them.” You’ve got to be shitting me I thought. The dealer wouldn’t go onto the next player until I did so. My hands were shaking, and I had worked up some back sweat as all the players were staring at me in amazement, including my own father.  After 20 seconds of me performing, in my mind, a magic trick, I finally got the cards to go under my chips. Success. The dealer ended up getting a 21.

Currently, I’m writing this blog just shy of 5am because: A. I went to bed at around 10:30 last night and still am a little jet lagged and 2. My dad is redefining the phrase “sawing the logs.” Until next time.

Excuse Me?

Before you read this you are required to watch the video above. WARNING: this is real.

This is an actual music video by The Nelons shown in my department meeting of where I work. I started to laugh at the beginning because I honestly thought it was a joke. Nobody else was laughing around me, so I had to suffer through all of the spoof ideas that I had for 4 minutes. Talk about torture. Immediately after my meeting, I went to my friend’s office to show him the video because I knew he would get it, and I desperately needed someone to laugh with me. Just as expected, he laughed just as hard as me, and not only that, but, within seconds, he sent the video department wide.

I must preface what I’m about to say by saying that I am a Christian. We’re going to break this song down like scripture. Calm down conservatives, it’s not going to be that bad…for liberals.

I was racing through the airport to make an early flight;

I wanted to get home to see my children and my wife.

In the first two lines of Lee Greenwood’s I’m Proud to be an American he says, “If tomorrow all the things were gone I'd worked for all my life, And I had to start again with just my children and my wife.” It’s in the same key and same rhythm. Just like that, we got a lawsuit on our hands.

I rushed around the corner – an apple stand was there,

Until I knocked it over. The fruit went everywhere!

If you’ve read my blog, you know that I traveling is a hobby of mine. I have been in airports all over the world, and have yet to see a farmer’s market.

At first I kept on going – I just couldn’t miss that plane –

I looked over my shoulder, not stopping to explain –

What a dick.

A girl was down there on her knees - groping ‘round to find,

You know, I expected this lyric from Lil Wayne, but not from you Nelons!

The apples scattered on the floor – then I saw the girl was blind.

It just got real.

As my plane was leaving, I stopped to lend a hand.

I picked up all the apples, restored the apple stand;

To replace the bruised and broken, in her fingers pressed some bills

As I hugged her narrow shoulders, she reached to hold me still…
And said…

Excuse me, are you Jesus?

Is that why you were so kind?

Excuse me, are you Jesus

To have had me on your mind?

You picked up all the pieces,

The bruised and broken parts;

You put me back in business;

You were Jesus to my heart…

Let’s recap. Guy is walking through the airport. Guy’s clumsiness leads him to knock over apples at the farmer’s market in the airport. Guy was just going to let the workers there clean it up. Guy sees one of the workers cleaning them up. Something tells guy that he should clean up the apples he knocked over. Guy sees that the worker is blind. Guy pays for the apples that he bruised. Guy gets compared to Jesus Christ.

There are many differences between this man and Jesus Christ. For starters, I never imagined Jesus being clumsy. If anything Jesus might have knocked over a single apple, but would have the awareness to kick it with his Achilles tendon over his shoulder right in his hand. The guy is calling himself Jesus for putting out the fire he started. Now if the guy wouldn’t have knocked over the apples, and the blind girl just decided to pick one of the apples from the basket and hurl one right in his piehole, and the man still gave her cash, then I would probably be asking this man to turn my water into wine.

Bridge - Once I was bruised and broken, blind and groping on my way,

When Someone stopped to help me, paid the damage, made me say…

…aaaaayyyyy (drums) And I’m proud to be an A-Mer-I-Can!

A Man and His Flannel

“You know you can leave that in the car,” one of my friends hinted to me as I lusciously tied my flannel around my waist.  “We’re at an amusement park. I know what I’m doing,” I replied. I went to an amusement park with 5 of my “friends.” Why do I quote friends you might ask? Well if they were my friends, they would want me to find true love at an amusement park, which we all know starts with your flannel shirt tied around your waist. Well, the joke was on them because the girls could not resist. As I was walking through the park I saw a woman in her 50’s close her daughter’s eyes, presuming that she was protecting her daughter from this piece of temptation. Ok maybe I lied. Maybe this style left with Shawn Hunter and the gang back in the 90’s, but I did see a father-son duo with the same “shirt tied around the waist” strategy that I had. We kindly nodded at each other giving the message, “Yeah, we know what we’re doing.” The joke really was on my friends because it rained all afternoon. As they were trying to find trees to walk under, I walked at a comfortable pace in wide open spaces.

We rode 5 rides at the park. Scratch that. I rode 4. My friends rode 5. The only one that I didn’t ride was called the Intimidator 305, which was based on the life (and death) of Dale Earnhardt. Basically, it was the fastest ride in the park at 95mph. I’m not about that life. Or death. One of my friends, Perry, blacked out the first time he went on the ride. I say the first time because somehow that inspired all of them to go on the ride a second time. They actually tried to convince me to go on the ride with them the second time, and their sales pitch was telling me the story about Perry blacking out. The whole time they were trying to convince me to go on the ride, I was too distracted at examining Perry for concussion-like symptoms. I did, however, go straight the cameras where you can see the pictures of the people on the roller coaster, and sure enough, 3 of my friends were screaming as Perry laid there limp and his eyes in the back of his head.

Another ride we went on was The Dominator. My cousin, Tyler, questioned the safety in the harness of the ride. I told him that there was someone coming around fastening everyone’s harness, so Tyler relaxed. As the guy got to Tyler, he checked his harness, and moved on. Tyler yelled, “What!? You okay’d that!?” Since we were in the back row, we got the green light and headed out. Tyler was still freaking out at the time. There was a random guy, let’s call him Scottie, sitting next to Tyler. At the very beginning of the ride, there’s a small dip, and then it takes you uphill. The small dip is literally in the first 3 seconds of the ride. Right when we hit the little dip, the guy next to Tyler screamed, “Oh what da hail!” Scottie was screaming the entire ride, while Tyler kept screaming, “Bug in my eye! Bug in my eye!” I laughed hysterically the entire time.

My favorite ride was The Volcano. We, also, rode this one twice. The first time, we waited in line for 45 minutes. To make the time pass by, I spent a lot of the time convincing Trav that there was a bee next to his ear. I mean at first there was, but watching him freak out over and over was too good. The second time we went, we were waiting in a slightly shorter line inside this cave that leads to the Volcano ride. All of a sudden, a stench of someone’s butthole lingered in the cave and everyone had that face like they were sucking on a lemon warhead. It WAS right after lunch, we DID just have Panda Express, and I STILL had butterflies before going on this ride…so yeah, I did it. “Deny til you die,” I repeated to myself over and over after I saw parents holding their children closer in fear that they were being gassed. Why did I not only deny it but blame it on Trav? You would too if you had to live up to the sexy flannel-tied-around-the-waist reputation.

P.S. I didn't mention Katie Tate, wife of Perry. She also rocked the shirt-around-the-waist style. "You do you," she told me. I did me, Katie. We did we. #wisdom

AusTEN

I went to Austin, Texas this past weekend with my roommate, Jordan, mainly to see what all the hype was about this city. Austin doesn’t fit the stereotype of the rest of Texas. It’s more “Is this chicken organic?” and less “Duh hail?” Here’s an example. My roommate and I traveled to Austin. When 2 dudes travel together, people start to question things, so we had our work cut out for us. We were talking to a guy from Austin who informed us that it was Pride weekend. Without saying a word, I went back into my room and changed out of my borderline neonish, tie dyeish tank top into a solid grey t-shirt. It’s not that I’m insecure about my sexuality, but I also don’t want to be missing out on the chance at my future wife because they think that Richard Simmons is about to raid the streets of Austin.

The people there are very friendly except for this one guy. He had an emotionless face with sunglasses and an Indiana University hat on. As I was passing him on the sidewalk, I yelled, “Go Hoosiers!” Not a word from him. He walked past me at the same slow pace with the same blank face.

I ate myself into a coma from the moment I got off the plane because that’s what you do in Austin. For one of my breakfast meals, I had a maple glazed donut with 6 strips of bacon smothering the top. As good as this donut was, it made me want to take a shower ASAP. The trip was worth it for the food alone.

Also, Austin’s 6^th street is the longest stretch of bars in America, which we took full advantage of. I don’t know many bars we went to, but there was only one bar that we went to multiple nights: Pete’s Piano Bar. It’s a dueling piano bar that takes requests from the audience. The songs they performed ranged from Sweet Caroline to The Real Slim Shady. The second night we were there, this older guy comes in with an attractive younger lady with a giant rock on her ring finger. So, the guy was standing next to me at the bar, and I asked, “What do you do for a living?” He said, “I’m retired.” I replied, “Ahh. What did you USED to do?” He told me what he used to do, but it has slipped my memory. Then, I followed up with the question, “How did you meet your wife?” With a confused look on his face, he says, “That’s an odd sequence of questions.” Oh boy, I thought as I slowly distanced myself from him. About 15 minutes later, he approaches me, “Are you saying that I outkicked my coverage?” In which I immediately replied, “Isn’t that everyone’s goal!?” For about 3 seconds he had the same look on his face as the blank faced Hoosier guy, then busted into laughter, bought my friend and I a beer, then a jello shot that came in a giant syringe. I left him my blog info that night. So, rich guy if you’re reading this, stop and go be with your beautiful wife. Anyways, after that night we stopped to get some pizza on 6^th street. For some odd reason, we went into a place that had screamo music blaring in the background. As I was ordering, the guy, turned to his right and yelled, “Hey quiet down, I’m trying to do business out here!” I looked around, but saw/heard no one. Hesitantly, I finished my order. As he turned around to get my slices of pizza, “All hail satan” was imprinted on the back of his shirt. He gave me my food as I asked God to cast the demons out of each pepperoni on my pizza.

On Sunday afternoon, we went to this bar called “The Flying Pig” on 6^th street to watch some football. Not very many people were at the bar. There was live music playing because it’s Austin; that’s what you do. Jordan left his spot at the bar, I was alone at the end of the bar watching the game, and a guy puts his backpack down in Jordan’s chair, and since the music was loud, he yells into my ear, “I got 10 pounds of weed in this backpack! Watch it for me!” as he went to the restroom. After I saw him disappear into the restroom, I picked up his backpack, and sure enough, it was about 10 pounds. So, I watched the game, and this gentleman’s weed, until he got out of the restroom.

We used the apps, Lyft and Uber to get around the city. The way each of these apps work is you request a ride, a driver comes and picks you up, then you pay them through the app. This was the most interesting part of the trip because this is where I met some of the most interesting people on this trip. Meet some of my drivers:

Adolpho picked us up from the airport. I asked him how long he’s been working for Lyft. Adolpho said, “I only work for Lyft when it rains because I‘m a professional tennis player.” I looked out the window and there were clear blue skies. “I’m sure you are Adolpho,” I thought, but what really came out of my mouth was, “Wow! Good for you!” About halfway into the trip, Adolpho tries to get a conversation going, “You know, Lyft is illegal in Austin.” “Is it?” I asked intrigued. He replied, “Yeah but you should be fine.”

Roman is about as monotone as you can get and very gothic. It was our first day in the city so I asked Roman, “What should we do while we’re here for the weekend?” I stumped Roman. You could tell that he doesn’t get out much based on the amount of time he took to answer this question. After minutes of deep thought a light clicked in Roman’s head, “Actually, I’ve really been into disc golf. You could do that.” “Yeah, that’s an idea,” I said unconvincingly.

Jalisa was very nice but also very loud. Since it was early in the morning after a long Friday night, I found her personality troubling even though it probably would have been lovely any other morning. She told me that her car’s name was Kiki. I asked her why and she told me, “You know this car just reminds me of a girl that gets from place to place real quick. I got a speeding ticket a couple of weeks ago, but I had no idea that I was going 85.” She, then, said that her previous car, “White Boy,” died due to an accident she had. Enter my doubts on Lyft’s background check. Despite her terrible driving record, she got us to where we needed to go: Gourdough’s.

Colin took us to the airport. He used to be a professional snowboarder. He fit the snowboarding stereotype: small, outgoing, in great shape, etc. “What brought you here?” Jordan asked. “Well, my ex-wife dragged me here so that she could be closer to her boyfriend that she was cheating on me with for 10 years.” “Oh dear…” I said softly underneath my breath. Colin got a call on his phone that he has linked to his Bluetooth stereo. He answers his phone, “What’s up fag?” The guy starts laughing. Then, we listened to them talk about their co-ed indoor soccer league and how they were going to “destroy some chicks tonight” for the rest of the car ride.

Terry. Oh Terry. I truly saved the best for last. Let me preface this by saying sorry for the language. It’s Terry, not me. I requested an Uber after a long Saturday night on 6^th street. We hopped in the car as he was talking to his boo over the Bluetooth stereo, once again. “Goodnight daddy,” she echoes throughout the car. He replies, “Love you mommy,” as I stared out the window trying not to eavesdrop. He was really quiet for the first half of the ride, then he asked us where we were from. When we told him that we were from Virginia, here is how the conversation went:

Daddy: Oh so you hang out with Bigfoot over there?

(Laughter)

 Daddy: Nah I know that stuff’s not true. Shiii. But aliens, now I belie dat. That shi’s trippy. Got no assholes. I know they’re for real.

Me: (Trying not to laugh) How are you so certain?

Daddy: I saw this thing on the TV. The History channel. They got these bigass heads, bigass bodies, no assholes. I even woke up my old lady because I didn’t want to be the only one experiencing this.

Me: (Whole shaking due to silent laughter because of this conversation and the fact that he thinks that he’s the only one watching a show on the History channel)

Daddy: Ya’ll think I’m crazy probably…

Jordan: Nah I can see that (silent laughter)

Daddy: Yeah man. Ask your grandparents about the UFO in 1941

Me: You mean Pearl Harbor?

Daddy: No man the UFO! They’ll know what I’m talking about.

Me: Will do.

So, Mammaw and Pappaw, let me first apologize for the language, but do you remember the UFO of 1941?

Craigslist Josh

So, I’ve been selling things on Craigslist. My initial motive was to make some extra cash, but then it morphed into me just wanting to meet some of the most interesting people out there. I sold a total of 9 items in a 2 month span, and now it is my duty to share some of these stories, so that we can judge Craigslist customers worldwide.

First thing I sold was my desk. This was going to be an easy sell because it was a great desk. The desk had two parts: the bottom part, which was just the typical desk part and the top part, which consisted of the cubbies that went along with the desk. It was awkwardly shaped, so it took Sweet Cam (refer to last post) and I about 30 minutes to load this on the trailer. As we made a left turn out of the driveway, the top part of the desk detached itself and fell of the trailer onto the road. This was very embarrassing due to the fact that I was only moving about a half mile down the road. Now, I had to put a little more effort into selling this thing. I went back and lowered the price on Craigslist by about 75%. A guy text me and said that he wanted to meet me after work to take a look at it. I met him after work at my place. He said, “Let’s see if it’s sturdy.” Side note: whenever I quote my Craigslist buyers, just imagine the thickest redneck accent possible. It makes the story funnier and not too far from the truth. Anyways, since he questioned the durability of the desk, he was shaking it violently, laying on it, giving it the People’s elbow, etc. “It’s sturdy,” he says. I sold it and helped him move the bottom part of the desk out to his car. As I went back in to get the second half of the desk, I could not get in because it was locked. This was very unfortunate since my keys and cell phone were in my apartment. I borrowed the Craigslist buyer’s cell phone and contacted my sister who contacted her roommate who contact my roommate to let me in. Luckily, it was only a 30 minute process. I got him the second part of the desk in exchange for a quick $50.

My desk chair was nothing special, so I listed it for $20. This kid messaged me and said that he wanted to buy it. Let me just say, this “kid” was in college, but referring to him as a “kid” makes me feel superior, so let’s just go with it. The kid shows up at my place and takes a look at the chair. He says, “All I got is $10.” Since I was once a college student I knew that his financial situation was that of a Nicolas Cage. I said, “Sure that’s fine.” In which he replied with, “Can you break a 20?” Thinking this was a joke, I laughed, “No.” He, then, went to the gas station down the street to break the 20 while I dead-bolted my door to teach that little shit a lesson. JK. He came back and I took the $10 from him. I would have taken 5. Joke’s on him.

I put an old guitar on Craigslist for $50 because at the time I had 4 guitars. Also, I put a television with a VCR player for $10 on Craigslist. I had an interested buyer with each product, and they both wanted to meet me after work. When I got home after work, the guy that was interested in my guitar was waiting outside my door. He turned out to be a nice fellow so I let him talk me down $5 off the guitar. As we’re playing guitar, I hear a knock at the door. Enter the guy who was interested in my television. Now, I’m about a wife beater and a Garth Brooks song away from establishing a flea market. The guy comes in, looks at the television and says, “Let’s see if it works.” He plugs in the television and pulls out a Rugrats movie from his back pocket. Pops in the VHS and says, “Would you look at that. It works! Could I talk you down?” I replied, “I’m pretty firm at $10.” He shrugged his shoulders, “I thought I’d try.” I could see my other buyer was getting annoyed that I wasn’t playing guitar with him anymore, so I saw the Rugrats man to the door. John Denver and I played guitar for about an hour in my living room. As he left, he turned to me and asked, “Do you know Jesus Christ as your personal savior?” Stunned by his boldness, I hesitated, which is something you do not want to do in Lynchburg, Virginia. “Yeah I know him.” He must not have bought my answer because he invited me to church that Sunday.

At our old place, we had a vacuum called the cat piss vacuum. Basically, our neighbor gave us this vacuum that smelled like cat piss, but of course, I did not put that in my Craigslist ad.  The lady that was interested in the vacuum met me at my place, and at first glance, I already didn’t like the lady. She came walking towards me with hungry eyes and no smile, which made my smile feel stupid so I wiped it away. I said, “Hello.” She said, “Well let’s see it.” Slight hesitation on my end, “Ok.” I went and got the vacuum and brought it out to her. She said, “Alright well let’s see if it works.” “Oh boy,” I thought. She plugged in the vacuum and started vacuuming my living room, as I was praying to the Lord on High that it would just be me smelling this terrible odor. She stops vacuuming, and started to sniff around, “Do you have a dog?” she asked. Timidly, I answer, “No.” She said, “This vacuum needs to be cleaned out. Clean it out for me.” I took the vacuum outside to clean it out as she followed. As I was on all fours cleaning out this vacuum, I looked back to see her hovered over me with this crazy look in her eye. I, again, threw up another prayer to the Lord on high since we were about one R. Kelly song away from getting weird. See guitar guy, I do know Jesus. Anyways, the vacuum was as good as new. The lady, then, informed me that she only had a 20 even though we agreed on $25. I would have been fine with $20 if my right arm didn’t smell like a cat litter. Nonetheless, I took the money…and a shower…by myself…thankfully.