A Prize In Every Box

This is a place for the random musings and life experiences of one Fliven, who looks for life's fun little surprises, even when its in a giant box of stale, tasteless foodstuffs.

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Location: Sugar Hill, GA, United States

The details of my life remain shrouded in mystery.

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Man of Many Hats

The worst thing in the world is being back from vacation for a few days and feeling like you need ANOTHER vacation. However, the vacation itself was outstanding. Went to some beaches, where it didn't rain once, and was warm but not humid. Check out my Facebook page for photos and whatnot.

Speaking of Facebook, I've been thinking about doing a series of profile picture photos that are all identical except that I'm wearing different hats. Lord knows I have 2-3 dozen hats, so it'd be worth the effort. I have a train conductor hat, and a lazer tag hat, and a couple different visors, and my outbacky-type zoo hat...yeah, this will be fun. The wife is going to be at work on Saturday, and I'll be in cleaning the office anyway, so perhaps I'll do it then.

The other day I had to kill a spider. And not just any spider, a BIG spider. I mean, as big as my PALM spider. It was ugly. Now, attacking a spider of this size is dicey, because they are FAST. So I had to find some way to slow it down to Fliven-speed. My weapon of choice for this strategem was a can of all-purpose Raid. Toxic, kinda filmy/gooey, and with a fresh mountain scent. One liberal spraying layer, this beastly arachnid attacks me! Pulling itself towards me at an alarming rate with only three of its eight legs! But at this point, it was no match for the awesome fury of the Doc Martens. Squish. However, its legacy remained...for the rest of the evening I had the jibblies. Here is my Chart of Freaking (patent pending):

(Level 0-5) Disturbed: Something out of the ordinary comes to your attention, and it isn't pleasant, but still mild, and you can take it in stride.

(Level 6-10) Freaked: A more unusual something occurs, which may elicit comment, blogging, texting, or other response.

(Level 11-20) Willies: The something that occurs causes shivers, alters brain function, and leaves a brief lingering effect.

(Level 21-25) Jibblies: The something causes yelling, repetitive statements, and the 'dance of distaste'; fetal position may be involved. Several hours or possibly days until normalcy is restored.

(Level 26+) Screaming Meemees: Total and complete freaking outedness; brought about by an event that will leave lifetime-long mental or emotional scarring.

This month is pretty busy for us. We've got things planned for pretty much every weekend until November. Plus all the new episodes of our favorite shows, and football (for the Mrs.) of course. This weekend we're planning on going to the state fair, which is always interesting, albeit a little redneck. Nothing wrong with that, though.

Today's literary masterpiece: "The Moose With The Loose Poops".

Friday, September 11, 2009

Good Ole Boys

This past weekend, Labor Day weekend, me and the Mrs. went to the in-laws cabin up in the mountains right on the border between Georgia and North Carolina. This is where the REDnecks are. They are every Jeff Foxworthy joke up there. I mean, there are normal people too, and businesses and whatnot, but the rednecks are there too. Where there are still spittoons in some bars and restaurants...that see regular use. Where a motorcycle costs more than the house its parked next to. And so on.

Anyway, we had a good time. Went out to eat, relaxed, saw 'Inglorious Basterds' (scalp Herman!), and so on. On Saturday we went to this, well, I guess you'd call it a general store. They had candy, clothes, shoes, furniture, sporting goods, camping supplies...and I think that's about it. We go in, cause there's a handgun on sale that Papa D wants to get. It was a nice little semi-auto handgun. Very slick. I got to see "The Judge" while we were there...its awesome! For those who don't know, it is a revolver that has extra-long chambers so you can use a small gauge shotgun shell in it. Look it up...there's a promo video where some dude is blowing holes in this target that are like, bowling ball sized. Bet it kicks like a mule though.

On the way home we stopped at Ingles for some strawberries, and Mama M ran inside while we waited in the loading area. Papa D pulls out the bullets and starts loading the cartridges. In the loading lane at a store. All we needed were ski masks. :) Then we got back to the cabin and shot a little bit. It was fun. But SUCH a completely redneck thing to do. Plus we had NASCAR on the TV! I fear my neck is becoming more and more red the longer I live here...if this is the last post I make that doesn't contain the words fixin', holler, y'all, or hootenanny, then know that I went into redneckery kicking and screaming, and to save yourselves; for this can happen to YOU too.

Today is the last day of work before our week long vacation, so of COURSE there's very little work to do and the time moves RIDICULOUSLY slow. Its gonna be so awesome! Momma Fliven's cooking, the beach, renaissance festival...man, it doesn't get much better than that.

Also, I got new glasses. I don't need them all the time, just when I'm working at the computer or reading for long periods of time. But they are cool because they are in MY exact prescription, whereas I just had junky generic CVS reading glasses before. And instead of things getting blurry four feet away, they are clear. (I'm farsighted). But here the redneckery creeps in again, for the glasses are made by Harley Davidson. My prescription, non-transition lens, non-sunglass, reading glasses are Harley Davidson. The motorcycle people. Is that 'Dueling Banjos' I hear...?