#6: Friends A.
Well, what d'ya wanna know? I've always had a hard time making friends, but the ones I make, I intend to keep forever. I just don't understand the concept of a social butterfly, someone who can just go around and around without really getting down to the nub of the matter.
I vastly prefer high quality time with close friends over casual hangouts with lots of people. I think this is another reason why I hate parties, and a big reason why I hate games with groups of people. I didn't travel hundreds of miles to play a Milton Bradley board game with you. I want to go over old memories, create new ones and continue to figure out how the hell you tick.
I like the way my friends tick, and they show it to me all the time. This past weekend, I got to be in Ad Liberation for a night, with old friends Tim and Mike, and new friends Matt and Katie. We had a great time on stage with classic games like Objection, Symphony, Word at a Time Story, etc... It was a largely familiar format to all the other improv shows I've done, so it was fairly easy. SO easy, in fact, that I decided I could go ahead and drink lots and lots of Old Crow Bourbon before and during the show.
By the second to last game (as the footage shows) I was already stepping over the line of what could be considered amusing drunk behaviour (shouting "Shut the hell up!" at the audience for example). Well, a game I've been waiting forever to play came up... A game called Whiskey Scenes. Whiskey Scenes involves 2 people doing a scene while a third drinks like crazy until the scene is over. The drinker tags someone out and repeats the scene to the best of his ability. The tag out starts drinking. This process repeats itself until no semblance of the original scene remains.
So, this idiot, who shall only be referred to as Peepaw, drank bourbon. He drank a lot of bourbon. He drank bourbon like it was his corn mash loving job. And he got sloppy.
Only now are all the details making their way back to me, almost exclusively in story form, hardly at all as memories. Suffice to say, I talked a lot of smack, did a lot of stumbling, and told a lot of jokes in languages I don't know jokes in. By the end of the night, and I only vaguely recall this part, I was screaming "I'm an asshole!!!!!!!"
Before that came to pass, my wonderful friends kept me alive for several hours with lots of love, support, speaker phone calls to 'MAH WHAAAAAIIIIFE!!!', toast with Nutella, and a burger from Five Guys (the evidence of these things were found around the house, but mostly on my clothes the next morning). The amount of bourbon that Peepaw drank came out in not puke, but vomit dribbles (also found on my clothes the next morning), so says Frim Tanklin.
I woke up at 5 AM the next day, kind of freaked out, but not really worried. I had a nasty hangover, which certainly kept me from being too excited about 24 hour blog day. It was only after a viewing of Matt's tape from the show that I understood how Hellacious my experience could have been. Estimates reach as high as 20 shots in a 3 hour time span, 8 of which were in less than 10 minutes. Thankfully, I was a heck of a lot luckier than this guy. I mean, honestly, that story has a different ending due only to the fact that I have great friends. AMAZING FRIENDS. LIFE-SAVING SUPERHERO FRIENDS.
Thanks, friends.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Monday, February 7, 2011
24 hour blog day 5
#5: Alter Egos (3-4)
The first thing I think of when alter egos are mentioned is "New Andrew." New Andrew was a happnin' single dude with lots going for him. Andrew had been dumped by his long time girlfriend back in late summer of '04. New Andrew was ready for the consumer market by February of '05. New Andrew was a really snazzy dresser, was comfortable in many social situations, and cared a whole hell of a lot about finding a broad to fill a huge void in his life. But secretly. Had you asked New Andrew about a new broad, he'd have laughed it off.
New Andrew was able to lose 50 pounds in less than 3 months. He was also interested in cutting his own hair, and being totally more awesome than anyone ever. He had an MP3 CD player, and took lots of pictures with his digital camera.
New Andrew meant so well, but could barely get his new enterprise off the ground.
He also smoked a pipe.
The first thing I think of when alter egos are mentioned is "New Andrew." New Andrew was a happnin' single dude with lots going for him. Andrew had been dumped by his long time girlfriend back in late summer of '04. New Andrew was ready for the consumer market by February of '05. New Andrew was a really snazzy dresser, was comfortable in many social situations, and cared a whole hell of a lot about finding a broad to fill a huge void in his life. But secretly. Had you asked New Andrew about a new broad, he'd have laughed it off.
New Andrew was able to lose 50 pounds in less than 3 months. He was also interested in cutting his own hair, and being totally more awesome than anyone ever. He had an MP3 CD player, and took lots of pictures with his digital camera.
New Andrew meant so well, but could barely get his new enterprise off the ground.
He also smoked a pipe.
24 hour blog day 4
#4: Methods of Destroying Traffic (2-3)
I've spent a great deal of time driving in my career as a traveler. Whether it be driving to enjoy the world of Louisville, KY from the confines of New Albany, In; speeding to visit a long distance girlfriend throughout most of college; making deliveries for the store; visiting distant cities; being the friend who doesn't mind driving; being the spouse who can stay awake on car trips... Any way, I drive a bit.
I've noticed a few things that would destroy a lot of traffic problems.
#1. A third lane on interstates. Not a third lane the whole way, that's expensive. I just want a third lane (a real one, not the ponce of a third lane you get of merging traffic) at all exit and on ramps for the highway. Also, one for every 10 miles on the open road. Nothing makes me angrier than driving 80 MPH on I-65, only to slow down for some idiot passing another idiot at 67MPH. Don't involve me in your lack of driving initiative, I've got places to be.
#2. Driving fast in the fast lane. The speed limit is not fast. It's safe. GO FASTER. Look in your rearview mirror. It isn't decoration.
#3. An extra bright light to flash at people in front of you who are idiots. LOOK AT MY LIGHT IN YOUR REARVIEW. 3 FLASHES MEANS THAT YOU NEED TO GET OUT OF THE WAY, OR DIE.
#4. Semis manning up and using brakes. Truckers cutting other drivers of, just to go two miles an hour fast than the truck in front of them. Even as someone whose livelihood depends on truck drivers, this is my biggest driving pet peeve. Mr. Semi-Driver, could you please wait for me to get past you? Is that extra mile an hour really so precious?
#5. Semis going slowly. Unavoidable, I know, but that 10 car length stretch in front of you on the on ramp is pretty prized during rush hour. Your trailer should have a big sign on the back that says "I am so so so so sorry about my big, fat, dumb truck."
#6. Coordinated stop lights.
#7. Traffic Cops. The double capital is for the British television show. Some awesome things the cops do there. They keep drivers on their toes, and get the punters of the road. PC Mann is a Godsend.
#8. Driver re-education: You know how to make your car move, now learn how to move your car in collaboration with the rest of the drivers. Reduces costs on insurance.
That's about all I can think of right now, but I've got lots of 'em.
I've spent a great deal of time driving in my career as a traveler. Whether it be driving to enjoy the world of Louisville, KY from the confines of New Albany, In; speeding to visit a long distance girlfriend throughout most of college; making deliveries for the store; visiting distant cities; being the friend who doesn't mind driving; being the spouse who can stay awake on car trips... Any way, I drive a bit.
I've noticed a few things that would destroy a lot of traffic problems.
#1. A third lane on interstates. Not a third lane the whole way, that's expensive. I just want a third lane (a real one, not the ponce of a third lane you get of merging traffic) at all exit and on ramps for the highway. Also, one for every 10 miles on the open road. Nothing makes me angrier than driving 80 MPH on I-65, only to slow down for some idiot passing another idiot at 67MPH. Don't involve me in your lack of driving initiative, I've got places to be.
#2. Driving fast in the fast lane. The speed limit is not fast. It's safe. GO FASTER. Look in your rearview mirror. It isn't decoration.
#3. An extra bright light to flash at people in front of you who are idiots. LOOK AT MY LIGHT IN YOUR REARVIEW. 3 FLASHES MEANS THAT YOU NEED TO GET OUT OF THE WAY, OR DIE.
#4. Semis manning up and using brakes. Truckers cutting other drivers of, just to go two miles an hour fast than the truck in front of them. Even as someone whose livelihood depends on truck drivers, this is my biggest driving pet peeve. Mr. Semi-Driver, could you please wait for me to get past you? Is that extra mile an hour really so precious?
#5. Semis going slowly. Unavoidable, I know, but that 10 car length stretch in front of you on the on ramp is pretty prized during rush hour. Your trailer should have a big sign on the back that says "I am so so so so sorry about my big, fat, dumb truck."
#6. Coordinated stop lights.
#7. Traffic Cops. The double capital is for the British television show. Some awesome things the cops do there. They keep drivers on their toes, and get the punters of the road. PC Mann is a Godsend.
#8. Driver re-education: You know how to make your car move, now learn how to move your car in collaboration with the rest of the drivers. Reduces costs on insurance.
That's about all I can think of right now, but I've got lots of 'em.
24 hour blog day 3. Childhood
#3: When someone mentions childhood what one memory pops into your head? Explain in detail. (1-2)
The first thing that pops into my mind, is the property around my parents house. We moved to that house when I was 3 years old, so I don't have a lot of memories from before that time. As kids, the other children in the neighborhood, my brother, and I enjoyed ourselves by running around in the creek, climbing trees, and sledding down the hills in our yard. Our yard was huge, and the woods around were even larger. It was all overgrown, uncultivated, wild, and messy. I've only seen woods like it in southern Indiana, not the woods associated with fields, not the woods you'd find in the mountains. It's just it's own weird and grubby place.
Once, long ago, my brother and I found a Playboy somewhere in an old relative's house. It was the holy grail to us, as it would be with any lads under the age of 12. I believe I was 8 at the time, so it was a particularly spicy piece of reading.
My brother and I made ceremonial robes out of old flannel sheets found in the rag holder in the garage (the holder looks like a clown, and hangs there to this day). We hid the Playboy in the leaves near my parents house and would parade it through the yard to sit on a large limb that had fallen from an old beech tree. We would leaf through the pages oggling the ladies. It was the most amazing thing I ever saw. So many boobies in one little magazine!
That's what I think of when I think about childhood. I think of dreams of being adults with special duties and rituals. Well, that and the time my brother made me eat some fungus that was growing on the log where we'd look at the nakey women. He then made me eat and drink a lot of stuff as an antidote for the poisonous fungus.
The first thing that pops into my mind, is the property around my parents house. We moved to that house when I was 3 years old, so I don't have a lot of memories from before that time. As kids, the other children in the neighborhood, my brother, and I enjoyed ourselves by running around in the creek, climbing trees, and sledding down the hills in our yard. Our yard was huge, and the woods around were even larger. It was all overgrown, uncultivated, wild, and messy. I've only seen woods like it in southern Indiana, not the woods associated with fields, not the woods you'd find in the mountains. It's just it's own weird and grubby place.
Once, long ago, my brother and I found a Playboy somewhere in an old relative's house. It was the holy grail to us, as it would be with any lads under the age of 12. I believe I was 8 at the time, so it was a particularly spicy piece of reading.
My brother and I made ceremonial robes out of old flannel sheets found in the rag holder in the garage (the holder looks like a clown, and hangs there to this day). We hid the Playboy in the leaves near my parents house and would parade it through the yard to sit on a large limb that had fallen from an old beech tree. We would leaf through the pages oggling the ladies. It was the most amazing thing I ever saw. So many boobies in one little magazine!
That's what I think of when I think about childhood. I think of dreams of being adults with special duties and rituals. Well, that and the time my brother made me eat some fungus that was growing on the log where we'd look at the nakey women. He then made me eat and drink a lot of stuff as an antidote for the poisonous fungus.
24 hour Blog Day, and Why I chickened out
For most of my life, I've had a terrible affliction where I feel like whatever it is I am conversing about it complete nonsense. I feel slow, dim-witted, aloof, or just plain uninformed about many things that people talk about. It's as though I haven't thought about a single subject that is being discussed. It all seems so fast, so planned that I can't believe people are talking about real things that quickly.
I understand that most people don't see me that way. Each time I bring this up (along with how tremendously fat and ugly I usually feel) people look at me like I've said something in Aramaic. It just doesn't seem to make sense. Well, it doesn't particularly matter what someone's perception of me is, it matters what I think. And I think I'm a total moron.
So, that's why the idea of writing 24 blog posts in so many hours really freaked me out. I'm terrific at talking about something in a completely fictional capacity. I can spin yarns about things that are 100% false, like you wouldn't believe. I can talk about art supplies with some of the best. What I can't do, is honestly relate to other human beings on spur of the moment. I can't even tell you how hard my heart races at parties when the number of people I know, versus the number of people I don't know is out of whack.
To sum up, I can lie to a group of 1000 people and not be phased. I can not, however, quickly or easily relate to 1 person I have never met before. This is why my blog had two entries. I will be fixing that, however, having thought about some of the topics, and having come up with good responses. Is the novelty of my blog being written in 24 hours enough to make it worth reading? NO. Is the character of my blog being a well thought out piece of analysis enough to make it worth reading? YES.
So, on with the show.
I understand that most people don't see me that way. Each time I bring this up (along with how tremendously fat and ugly I usually feel) people look at me like I've said something in Aramaic. It just doesn't seem to make sense. Well, it doesn't particularly matter what someone's perception of me is, it matters what I think. And I think I'm a total moron.
So, that's why the idea of writing 24 blog posts in so many hours really freaked me out. I'm terrific at talking about something in a completely fictional capacity. I can spin yarns about things that are 100% false, like you wouldn't believe. I can talk about art supplies with some of the best. What I can't do, is honestly relate to other human beings on spur of the moment. I can't even tell you how hard my heart races at parties when the number of people I know, versus the number of people I don't know is out of whack.
To sum up, I can lie to a group of 1000 people and not be phased. I can not, however, quickly or easily relate to 1 person I have never met before. This is why my blog had two entries. I will be fixing that, however, having thought about some of the topics, and having come up with good responses. Is the novelty of my blog being written in 24 hours enough to make it worth reading? NO. Is the character of my blog being a well thought out piece of analysis enough to make it worth reading? YES.
So, on with the show.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Funniest Moments
IMPROV!!!!!!!
"When you die do you think that your tombstone will say 'Here lies Peepaw Preston, he sexed a hot Russian spy.'"
"When you die do you think that your tombstone will say 'Here lies Peepaw Preston, he sexed a hot Russian spy.'"
Best of 2010
What's the best of 2010? Well, when this topic came up, I was all like "That phone I got, or the time the cat's tail got cut off, or when I got married twice." None of these things happened in '010. I just don't remember 2010 that well.
I gotta say the furniture that I fixed was pretty superb.
I gave that sweet cabinet away to my good friend Alex Gettelfinger. I was the best man in his wedding, it was so nice. The chest resides in my living room and has a nicer top than in the photo.
2010 has also been a good year for seeing buds and dudes I like a lot. So many friends, new and old. Foreigners, hilarious dudes, and guys that sit with me in a hot tub and smoked some dub-er. Me and those guys almost got tased by a security guard.
So, this is my first blog for 24 hours blog day. It's been kind of a shitty year, full of me working in the same store for weeks at a time, not doing a whole lot besides being the prince of boxes... Although, I did sell some sweet expensive projectors to people. I guess that's something.
Depresso blog, out.
EDIT: GONNA LISTEN TO THUNDERSTRUCK 288.5 TIMES TODAY.
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