Just Phil

What to do now that Osama's dead

2011-05-02T18:53:00.000-06:00

I'll be taking some time off this week. I was going to dedicate my time to hunting down Bin Laden, but apparently that has been done. So now I have to try and figure out some new things to do on my days off. I really would like to make this a week of unique experiences some real first time, mind blowing, life changing thoughts and followed up by inspiring actions. Instead all I could come up with is this list

1 Buy some flowers for a woman: This may seem trivial for some, but of all the things on my list this one stresses me the most. Judge me if you must, but in all of my years of living I have never used flowers as a gesture of romance. Sure I've given them to women who have given birth, done a nice thing and i wanted to say thanks things like that. And I don't have really one woman in mind so it'll will be awesome and probably out of nowhere when I slap out some flowers on her.

2 Eat a fish taco: Hey this one could be life changing. what if i actually like them? Chances are low that I will like them due to my extreme hatred for seafood. I wont taint my experience with pre- conceived hate, instead I will keep my nose un-crinkled and my gag reflex shut down.

3 Make the greatest soup possible.( Yes you may have noticed I think of food a lot) I don't detest soup like I do seafood, but it ain't that cool either. that is until i figure out and make the finest soup. those who will be lucky enough to taste my soup will say thing like "that is the finest soup."

4. I'm going to go play soccer: Like the flowers, if you don't know me you may think "that's not that different" but I will compare it to this morning on the news when I heard Karl Rove say that President Obama and Hillary Clinton did an outstanding job. For those who don't watch the news it means soccer and I have been bitter enemies for years. I'm the guy who roots for the U.S. to lose in the world cup so they'll stop wrecking Sports Center. You cant use the argument "you just don't understand the game" because I do. When I was young soccer was the poor kids sport and while I had baseball hung over my head, with my families great financial sacrifice, soccer was championed by the ole parents, because the cost was less than a night out at McDonald's. and so maybe that is where my disdain comes from, the fact that I was tricked into liking it. Enough crappy rambling about it, i just haven't played in ten years and think I should try playing one more time.

5. throw a kick-ass 400 meter run on Saturday: Yes 400 meters might be only one lap around the track, but why pay money to run three and a half miles. now my run is sounding better and better. but if that isn't enough I'm going to feed the participants ribs after. Why? Maybe to say I've hosted a fun run/walk. or maybe... just kidding that is totally why.

I'll stop there cause it's only a few days off and I'm pretty sure making the finest soup ever will take a bulk of my time. If you would like to suggest something for me to do this week, feel free to add it in the comments. (p.s.for those who thought this was going to be a political post, Suckers!

An Interview

2011-02-07T19:41:00.000-07:00

I recently read my friend Derek Wessmans blog. In his post he did a question and answer session with recent questions people have been asking him. I liked it so much that I think I'll steal it. Except I have a problem, that no one is really asking me questions. So I have decided that I will interview myself, Skeptics may say that I'll just toss myself a bunch of softball questions, but i promise I'll bring it so hard Larry King would blush. This may seem strange to some since I tend to go out if my way not to answer questions, but I'm trying to grow so maybe this will help. Another skepticism may be that I have too much time to think out the questions and answers. that will be easily disproved when you see the bit of bizarre questions and answers below that in fact maybe not enough thought or editing was put into this.

Let's start with what you get asked the most about, what's up with your love life? Are you in fact gay?

no I am not gay.

But you like to cook, do palates, you speak of learning how to sew, and you like Ice skating, some would say you are way over sensitive as well.

It's true, like to try many things. I never claimed to be a manly man. that is just assumed when your bigger than most people you meet. I also like things equated with the brutes of the world such as boxing, basketball, baseball really any sport. Being gay is more emotions felt towards people of the same sex. I like women. I maybe just don't feel the need to prove myself to others by withholding experiences that might be thought of as womanly.

Why aren't you married?

I just haven't been in the right situation with the right person for me to get married

Are you pursuing that situation or possibly blocking that from happening?

depends on the day i guess. I would say more than not that I block

Why?

who would have I'd ask myself to hard of questions. no answer

Are you stuck up or just shy?

all the way just shy. I love speaking with people but like most people, I find it hard to approach others and just start talking. once you get me going sometimes you'll wish you hadn't. I love stories people tell and just being able to relate to people. I'm actually one of the best listeners around. just be careful because i don't forget much either.

What are you goals in life?

To be a writer is the big one. I've had a lot of health ones lately and I'm pretty close to achieving those. but the biggest one is to impact the most people I can in a positive way. To change the world.

Kind of cheesy don't you think?

yep

You're trying to write a book?

Yes

So why are you waisting time doing this instead of writing your book?

I've got to throw my three blog fans a bone every once in a while. plus I feel like writing is like everything else. you need to practise, change it up a bit. But I should be writing for my book instead, it's true.

You claimed you were working on your charisma after reading an article in Opra’s magazine.(cause that’s all man too) you also claimed you wanted your charisma to be somewhere between Bono and Jesus. How’s that going.

I’m still working on that still right now i would say i’m sitting somewhere between Esteban and Snoop Dogg.

Esteban the guy peddling guitars on the late night infomercials?

That’s the one.

Creed or Nickleback ?

Aren’t they the same band? No? Well then i’ll go with Nickleback

Kelly Clarkson or Taylor Swift?

Taylor Swift. She at least writes her own stuff

But if you write bad music or have bad music written for you, is it not still just bad music?

Well maybe for Creed or Nickleback, but the other two both have songs i can listen to. That's not an admittance that I like them.

This is getting so damn weird, are you sure you came up with these questions?

Truthfully no. I’ve been asked all of the above except for the one about Esteban. No one has ever asked me who he was, they should already know.

Speaking of weird, rumor has it that you talk to yourself when you drive. Is that true?

What nerve to ask that question. I don’t have to sit here in a self interview and answer such inflammatory lies of me speaking to myself. This interview is over!

Ray goes to Disney Land

2011-01-27T23:27:00.000-07:00

A few month back my family decided it was time for a trip to Disney Land. I couldn't really understand it, or for that matter get excited because, in our family there are no small children. However i do try to be a team player ( that and my aunt K.K. scored she and I some plane tickets). So I agreed. It's not that I dislike Disney Land, It just doesn't have the same appeal anymore, especially when visiting Southern California. I soon found out that there was one in the group who in fact hates Disney Land. I know this because in the hotel he said "I hate Disney Land" that man is my own dad Raymond Otis Yawn. It was then I decided my trip would be well spent photo documenting him. He showed himself an even stronger team player than myself. I never had to tell him to act natural, in fact he seemed to not notice me at all. He just went into a strange survival mode trance, searching for good spots to nap. So here you have it Ray's trip

no sooner did we get in the gate, then he tried to loose himeself from the group

the group

Pimp Mickey

very fearsome

kept yelling "i'll take two"

Dancing through New Orleans square

Behind the scenes

Ray not looking happy about those prices

eating like it's 40$ gumbo, cause it is

wouldn't have minded just floating a river for vacation

Letting that Pirate ship know how he feels about them

Running from the pirate ship he just stuck his butt at

i could have told him there were no pirates on that ship but, naw

All that running wares a man out, and what makes a better pillow than a garbage can

As happy as I saw him all day

Second happiest

Yet another nap in a precarious position. Really it's quite a talent

child like wonderment. or maybe just checked out

I mostly just like my moms face on this one

A Poem

2010-12-06T19:27:00.001-07:00

Here's a poem about a date I went on. And yes it is a poem

When I picked up Kallie, she had a nice hat on

We then headed off to get our Ice skate on.
I let her know in advance about how great my skills were.
Actually I sucked. the only one that sucked worse was a guy named Scott so of course we raced and compared to him I was a blur.
We did some ice dancing, it was kind of a blast.
but I can't dance even off skates, so of course I landed on my ass.
We finished our skating and drove off for dessert.
I was so bad at skating, I had to use figure skates which took some skin off my ankle which kind of hurt.
We saw a red mango, and I'd never been before so we stopped there.
I ate something called mochi mixed with every fruit except for a pear.
I told her so many stories, her patience must have been pressed
I then drove her home and said good, night now I’ll give it a rest

Thoughts on homelessness assignment

2010-11-24T17:34:00.001-07:00

This post was actually written for a class I took in the spring. You may be thinking" why post it here now?" the answer is, my straight up laziness. I know it doesn't seem to fit the normal feel for this blog, but I hope my three readers can still enjoy it. It was a website I created to try get get people to treat Homeless people better, but it's a little out of context so I hope you can still follow, anyway here it is

I met David and Carl downtown Salt Lake City Utah one night around 8 o'clock. I was walking down Rio grande street towards the Gateway mall, when a black man with a dirty Levi jacket and pants about five sizes too small jumped in my path. Before I could react to the inevitable attack (we all conjure up in our minds when we walk in this part of town) I was simply asked,
" was Ingrid Bergman in the movie Casablanca?"
I answered, "yes, I believe that was her."
The man grinned hugely and turned to another man sitting on the ground, leaning on a building and said "I told you so."
The man sitting on the ground didn't accept my movie authority as readily. He decided to quiz me. "Well then, who acted in The African Queen?"
Without hesitation I responded "Katherine Hepburn" That seemed to qualify me as an expert and settle the debate.
I asked the man standing in front of me, who was still beaming from his victory in the argument, if they wanted to grab something to eat.
"Hell yes'' the man said and I turned and looked at the other sitting who seemed less enthused and simply said "sure". While we were walking tom the food court at the gateway mall I discovered the names of my two dinner companions. (Although I have changed their names on my blog )The jovial victor of the earlier argument was David. The surly, suspicious one was Carl. I asked them if it would be alright to ask them questions and told them about my blog. Carl surprised me, as I had thought he might be opposed, when he told me "that's cool because most people don't give a shit about us".
He then showed me an I.D. card with his name on it and asked " do you know James Talmage?"
I answered him "not personally, but I've read a book he wrote".
He responded with an unnerving intensity "Thats right he wrote the best books in the world. Now look at my name, I'm his great grand-son but do you think anyone in this city cares? they wont do shit for me."
I asked him " What do you want them to do? "
He laughed at the outrage of the question but it was clear from the look in his eyes he didn't think it funny. " They can start by giving a shit if I live or die" he told me, "look at me I have nothing. I used to have everything , but now, nothing." David didn't seem to notice any of this conversation and as we got in line at the subway sandwich shop was wondering aloud if they had hot chocolate
We ordered our sandwiches (unfortunately for David they didn't have hot chocolate) and sat at a table in the food court. As we ate I couldn't help but notice the disdainful looks from the others at the surrounding tables. My two guests didn't even seem to notice while they ate food like someone was going to count to thirty and take the remaining food away. I asked them where they were originally from. David told me Detroit, and Carl told me everywhere.I then asked if they had any future plans. They both resoundingly said yes. David said he wanted to move to a small town where it was warmer and that he was"plenty strong enough, you know for farm work and such". Carl told me he didn't know how much longer he would be alive.
"Why is that Carl"? I asked him.
"Because, do you know what it's like out here?" There was a long pause, he really wanted me to answer
" nope, I really can't say I do" I told him.
"look at these shitforbrains hyenas over here" he said pointing to a bunch of teenage boys. "they might jump me as soon as I leave this place" Right as soon as he said that i was reminded of the news story in 2006 when some Florida teens were beating homeless people to death with baseball bats. As I looked at the boys I now saw them as a threat, like Carl would. I could now understand his bitterness, having to size up every situation for survival.
I've heard people say "if somebody wants a job they can get one", and at that moment I was reaffirmed that nobody in there right mind would choose this existence because of laziness. Not Carl, who lived in fear of others and even talked about taking his own life. Not David who seemed careless yet dreamt of farm work in nice warm place sipping hot chocolate I'm sure.
As we walked back to towards the Road Home, passed all the sneering teens, whom normally I wouldn't even have noticed, I couldn't ask anymore questions I could only ponder the new world I had discovered that i had tried to walk by and ignore for my entire life. I knew when I walked by now looking in the eyes of the homeless, I would think of farm dreams or just making it through the night. And as if willed alone by David, the Mission across the street was serving Hot chocolate

One of the programs I've been volunteering at is the Road Home playtime program. I go once a week and simply play with the children for an hour. For the first months I dutifully showed up and played my part as the mobile Jungle Gym. I felt as though it was a true sacrifice. I didn't think I was getting or needed anything personally out of my experience. After a few months of being a regular, the children became familiar and expected my showing up to toss them around the room. I believed that all I represented was a giant toy. One day after the hour had ended, I was walking down the hall when I noticed one of the children who had missed playtime because of another activity. She saw me and smiled, but her smile disappeared quickly and turned into a look of sadness as she asked "They had playtime tonight? I answered "yeah, I was wondering where you were". She grabbed my hand and asked me to walk her to her room. While we were walking she asked since she had missed playroom could she have a shoulder ride. I tossed her up on my shoulders and walked her the rest of the way to her room. After I dropped her off at her room, and promised three times to return the following week, I began down the hallway again. This time I had to fight back tears as I thought of how life was going to give this six year old the very worst it had to offer. I walked out on the street and looked at the people out there and just kept thinking about my little friend, helplessly hoping that some sort of intervention would sweep her away from that life. A life she never chose for herself.

My point of this entire site is this. If we can't treat our most down trodden of humanity with respect, then how can we even call ourselves humane. As I have tried to point out, most of the people whom live on the streets are not just lazy,drugies, drunks, or simply just looking for a handout. They are the very soldiers you hear being praised on the news for delivering freedom 40% of all homeless served in the armed forces.(Department of Veteran Affairs, 2005).
They are children who have never been able to choose much of anything 39% of homeless are under 18 and 41% of those are under the age of 5. They are abused women, the mentally ill, and dare I say it, the racially oppressed.42% are African-American. 12% of the entire untied states is African- American.(U.S. Census Bureau, 2003; U.S. Conference of Mayors, 2007)

we allow ourselves to label and de-humanize these people, so that we can might feel better about our own inaction. If they are not human, then why feel guilt? If they truly are just lazy, or working the system then they get what they are asking for. My hope is that we start small, just giving the homeless their human dignity. When we take that away, we give a great big okay to those would extort and abuse in the most hideous ways possible,including even murder. Like with any social problem, we tend to lump everyone together. There are those who will abuse any system that will be created, however if the numbers are examined then you will see that this is the exception rather than the rule. In my own limited personal experience, one constant with every homeless person I've spoken with is the comment, "when I get out of here". Maybe it's lip service, but I didn't offer anything, just an ear. Some voiced bitterness, others were actually grateful, all however, wanted to change their circumstance.

Some Things That Gotta GO II

2010-09-05T18:03:00.000-06:00

Yes, that's right a sequel. I figured I was long overdue in posting, and really not that many interesting things have happened to me lately to write a story about, I might as well. Another factor is people seemed to really like the first list, often giving me there own things to bounce from the universe. I appreciate that and will now go on to use none of the suggestions( sorry Rima, the late night infomercial for the Booty Pop stays) I will instead use well thought out research of what things would make our lives better if they simply were never heard of again. that or most likely will just write whatever comes to mind in the next twenty minutes.

I'll start it off by targeting some well used sayings. In fact they are so well used that they bring sheer thoughts of violence against the offenders when they are rattled off constantly. The first one is "I'm now in control of my own destiny". Despite the argument of whether or not destiny can be controlled (see the hit series of movies Final Destination 1-16 if you really want to see what happens when you piss off destiny, I personally haven't seen any of them, but from the previews,you get yourself in BIG trouble.) The point is I don't care the meaning, say that to me, and your destiny is a fat lip. The other one I've heard way too much is " At the end of the day" This is usually some smart guys way of saying " I'm getting the last word, and I'm going to summarize why whatever we talked about doesn't matter and consider it resolved". Because as we all know at the end of the day we... oh man, see I did it too. Besides what really happens at the end of the day. shouldn't it be "the morning after" or, at the end of the afternoon, this still isn't that funny so I'll move on.

Second thing that's out; Car Tires. That's right car tires. This one might be because of thew fact that I had three flats in about a span of two weeks, but also isn't it about time for the flying car's anyway. This does cause me a bit of a personal problem however Since recently I took my first trip in a small plane. This plane's inside was about the size of my friend Boyd's Volkswagen Beetle.(yep, that's me taking a shot) I was crammed in the back with a lovely young lady named Jillyan Bechtold, and we were flying over the west desert of Utah from Wendover to Salt Lake City. While I was trying to point out the many, well three splendors of the desert, I started to feel as if I had just been rammed in the gut by a ram, I can only guess how that really feels but why not keep my metaphors simple, anyway that feeling quickly turned into projectile vomiting. with my lap full of my earlier breakfast( which I felt now was a waist of money)I turned to Jillyan and asked if she had any wet-naps. She instead provided me with a more practical item of a plastic bag, which I then filled in between pointing out the beauties of Utah. So I may struggle with flying cars a bit as well. I just don't know. Maybe transportation tubes anyone?

Third on the list Dead-beat dad's. yep

Forth Song's about or that mention California. I do enjoy spending time in California as much as anyone who doesn't live there already, but maybe other states should get some play from the singers of the world. We know you've got it all, the beaches, the movie stars but think if Idaho got some play on the radio for once, Idaho would start believing more in itself and maybe one day get enough confidence to get it's own ocean. That being said I'm thinking a head and am buy beach-front property in Burley.

Fifth is this man Johnathan Boatwright. Now I am not advocating that anybody make him disappear, or for that matter anything bad to happen to him, so if you see him and throat punch him then that is on you. I am simply writing a hypothetical list of things that need to go, I have no plans, or drive to get rid of any of these things on here. That being said you might find it hard to hate this guy. He hasn't made it easy on me. In fact I may be the only one who does. I was sitting in church with my friend and she was telling me of an ex-boyfriend that she now had great dislike for. I decided i wanted someone to hate as well so I chose Boatwright . He hasn't made it easy. Every time I see him I tell him hello with such disdain as to draw looks from even strangers passing by. Everyone notices but of course Boatwright who just goes on talking as if we've been friends since i was peeing my pants. It's infuriating. I can't even be mean to this guy, and it's not for lack of trying, of course he may do an Internet search and find this then he'll know he's gotta go. (If you do read this Johnathan then call me and we'll hit up wingers for lunch, oh and damn you)

The Last thing that needs to go is having an opinion.
That seemed like a good idea, allowing people to make their own minds up, but it has turned out mostly to make people angry at each other. So let's pick someone, it could be President Obama, it could be you, just not Boatwright but let's pick someone, preferably some one tall, and let them do the deciding from now on. No more of this It's just my opinion so it can't be wrong, why won't you let me have my opinion blah. Think of how nice this would be "Steve the 7'4" guy at Harmon's said Twinkies are better than cupcakes and that Jennifer Aniston movies suck". there you have it. we all saved time, effort and were brought into unity by a giant. Sound like a fairy tale? maybe. but that is the point of all of this to make all of our lives better, except Boawright's with the things that gotta go

Some Things That gotta Go

2010-05-28T03:50:00.004-06:00

To start off, this post is dedicated to Emily Crane. The reasons for this dedication is for one; she checks my blog every day (most who check it every month will find themselves disappointed, due to the lack of updating). Reason two; This was her idea, that I write on things that just gotta go. On a side note, she is looking fantastic these days, right sexy if I do say so myself. Now on to the freak show that is this blog

Here is a list of things that need to be done away with, burned, disfigured, maimed, hunted down, and just removed from society.

First One : war ; I believe it's time we practiced world peace. Oh what? you thought this was going to be a funny blog? Yeah it is. I'm just messing. Go ahead and have your wars. War away, I've got bigger concerns(as you'll see under this) besides if I gave my opinion on war, i would just get a lot of people swearing at me. I'll save that for Facebook.

the real first thing is : Fiber One bars; Man those things need to go. The biggest problem I have with them is they are so delicious. Much like sin however, they bare a great consequence. They rip your innards a sunder. The flatulence they create is horrible enough that those around you may need counseling for the post-traumatic stress disorder.They are akin to a laxative crack. I can't help but eat them. They need to be taken off the market before too many family's and friendships are ruined.

The next thing : Calling Someone a Douche Bag; This has become overused and abused. There was a time when this insult would almost always double me over in laughter. those times are long gone. I myself still use it on occasion, but don't even realize it. And that's because it gets no reaction, due to its acceptance. And that just doesn't work for me. Sometimes to keep it "fresh" I'll give the bag a rest and call on the nozzle. I don't understand why the bag gets all the love anyway. Maybe this is getting too graphic for some, but see I'm back with the shock. So try calling someone a douche nozzle instead.

Another one : The Letter H; Who really needs it? the french already just use it as decoration. Take my name for instance. How the hell does that make any sense? oh, so you put next to a P and magically it becomes an F? Yeah I probably should have thought this blog out a bit more before I started writing. But still, screw you letter H, and your magic.

No More Nazi Movies; There's something we don't need any more of. They should just lock the genre up with Inglorious Basterds. In fact no more Hitler references either. We can be more current when we want to make comparisons that don't really fit.Think the girl in math class that would say "Yeah, well Hitler would make his people..." how much cooler would it be if she used Pol Pot or Adi Amin. Between Schindler's List and The Pianist. is enough for me to want to call it a day with society.And now I've got to watch 500 more? Even Indiana Jones has moved on to the Russians, I think I'll do the same. Ah who am I kidding, I'll still watch everyone of them that comes out, and probably shed tears every time.

Lakers and Red Sox Fans. Bad people, every last one of you.

And I'll finish with what I think need to go most of all. People that are always pissed, or are pissy all the time. If you fall into this category (which you wont identify with, but will probably think of someone else that you think does) then just know that you suck to be around. Sure it's funny when Don Rickles does it, or House on the show House. But you ain't them. You just come off as a jerk. "It's a fool who is offended, when no offense was intended." So stop being angry at everyone, start smiling every once in a while, and realize it's nice to be nice. Punk.

I'm sure i could come up with many more things that need to go. Just in-case you were wondering

The Thing About Jackie

2010-03-19T01:01:00.004-06:00

This post may be another confusing post, but when is my Blog not confusing. This one is about a young female named Jackie Neerings. Again I don't feel a need to explain my actions. But yet again to avoid any legal actions against me, I will state that we are not in a relationship. originally I was going to do another list, but I've written enough of those lately,(two is enough for me) so instead I will do this story style, on the nice things of Jackie.

I first met Jackie almost two years ago, when she walked into my place of employment screaming about how cool she was, and how much fun she could bring to the place. Hey it's my story, and that's how I saw it, even if she tries to claim otherwise. Little did she know, I didn't care because I had a foot out the door, due to the fact I couldn't stand anyone I worked with. This is the first point I want to make about her. She makes life more enjoyable. All of the sudden I had someone at work I could talk with. Her bouncy walk alone radiated positivity, and then she would flash her goofy yet addictive peace sign in front of a giant smile. She almost single handily changed my attitude. Then just like the way she came bouncing in, she decided to bounce back out.In fact she bounced out all the way to Ecuador. For Six months she paid to work at an orphanage. which is the next point. Her charitable acts. Of my many causes, she has always been supportive and willing to help. Of her own causes, she honestly believes she can change the world, and I dare you to doubt her. That brings me to her angry side. Just kidding all positive here. So lets talk instead about her Sense of humor. It's great, I know this because she even laughs at my jokes. The one moment that really sticks out that defines this was the time I was so angry my face was red and inside I was swearing the worst swears imaginable. her response when most people would just give me space( like a few miles) was to grab a bag of someone else's treats and held them up, and said "at least we have snacks". She then continued to give me a piece of licorice every two minutes. And when I finally broke and laughed and asked will you stop? her only reaction was to offer me another piece. All of these qualities lead to my final, yet most important quality. Her potential to be great. I think most of us have this potential, but the only ones who achieve it are the ones who strive for it. Jackie has developed these skills and I'm sure her accomplishments will confirm this. As she once made abundantly clear to me, she knows herself. I will however risk being ostracized by her in saying she's only at the tip of the iceberg. And once she does venture even further down. Watch out world cause you're about to be rocked. Okay bye

Peace

Why I'm Awesome

2010-03-14T20:11:00.002-06:00

Why is it a sin to say anything nice about yourself? One way to irritate me quickly while in conversation, is when a somebody gives themselves a compliment and then follows it up with a "just kidding". Or the person to whom excels at something and smiles and says "really I'm not that good". I know nobody likes the person who talks non-stop about themselves, and there own greatness, but usually that person is easily detected because their conversation is mostly based on superficial facts of why they are better that you. With all that said, I'm going to give you five reasons why I would like to be friends with me. It's not that i am trying to prove myself to anyone, because if you're one of the five people reading my blog, you probably already know me. I just figured it would be more enjoyable read than the 40 reasons why I'm not awesome (besides some one will assuredly do that for me in the comments under the guise of anonymous). So if you read this and think, "man this dude is cocky", well maybe I am.

1 My humility

2 I Have An Opinion This might sound confusing, because you would think everyone has an opinion. They don't. A lot of people just repeat what they heard from someone else. If you want to test this, listen to the Jim Rome Show on the radio one day and then get into a sports conversation with a group of people and you will hear his exact phrases. Another one is when you hear someone arguing over the health care plan, Ask them "Have you read the plan?" So far I've only found one who has. I'm not claiming that influence and sources are bad. But I for one like to try to uncover the truth, think about it , and then act like its the only correct opinion in the world.

3 My Love For A Good Adventure If I didn't have this, I probably wouldn't have anything to write on my blog. Most my adventures if I used my logic, I would stay away from. In fact I would dig a moat and build a wall around it. So if you plan something and can't find anyone to go along with it because it's too weird, scary,or painful, call me and I'll probably be game.

4 My humor I've found everything is better with humor. Well maybe not food.

5 I Just Try To Be Nice The key word is try. If I am mean, it is never with malice, just stupidity. I would rather have people feel better about themselves. I think most people would outside of high school. But once in while you'll run into those who are all about trying to make you feel like crap. well that ain't me

The fall of greatness

2010-03-09T11:36:00.001-07:00

Since my friend Boyd had to have back surgery on Monday I decided to Re-post this this one in his honor or dismay. You might think this is in bad taste, and you might be right because after all, it was the fall on that Tuesday that did his back in. He was carrying young Ava down the stairs when he slipped. Fortunately for Ava's existence, he fell on his back. Unfortunately his basketball career may be over. The surgery was said to have gone well. So Boyd I hope there are no more falls to report.

Last Tuesday or so my man Boyd took a tumble. I guess he really jacked his back so I can't make light of it. But it did get me thinking about some of his other bouts with gravity. Unfortunately for him there have been many, but two stick the most so I will tell you about them.
When we were visiting the coastline of Monterrey California, Boyd ran into the ocean and found out just how damned cold the water is up there. He quickly started to return to the beach as I was heading out full speed. I made a turn into his path and he wisely sensed danger. He tried to turn his full load of a body out of my freeway of destruction, but in doing so he lost his footing and shuffled his feet sideways as his upper body outdistanced his legs and finally he was eating sand. When falls happen there is usually a period of concern for the victim. Not this time everyone on the beach erupted in laughter except of course Boyd. When he got back to the the towels Derek Wessman was still cracking up. This enraged Boyd and he responded with "real f-- funny.You'll think it's funny when you have to drive my ass to the hospital." Which Derek did indeed think it funny.

The second fall happened at a u of u football game. The Utes had just beat UCLA into a godless state. Boyd surprisingly thought we should storm the field with the rest of the fans. We got down to the end of the bleachers and saw that there was about a 9' drop to the field. we watched a bunch of people go over and they all hit the ground and ran off so we figured it to be safe. We didn't figure that none of the people going over were pushing 3 bills in the weight department like Boyd and I, plus Boyd had sandals on. At this point there was no turning back because of the crush of fans behind us. Boyd climbed the rail and you could actually see his brain working, trying to talk himself into it when he slipped and went over. He hit feet and hands first and went into what can only be described as a ninja roll. He ended up on his back with both his hands and feet strait up in the air like a giant dying cockroach. For the rest of the night he told everyone including strangers, that he had broken his heel. everyone unsympathetically just blew him off. He didn't break his heel, but it hurt him for months to come.

I don't hope Boyd continues to fall down, but if he does i sure hope I'm there to witness it.

originally Posted 12/19/08

To be wise or sweet

2009-12-10T18:32:00.000-07:00

Wisdom and sweetness to you probably do not correlate to anyone in the world but me. They are both positive qualities to posses. They can both make you a better person. but for me and my opinion one is a top quality and the other the bottom. Rather than rate every quality I can think of( maybe i will if I run out of ideas for my blog) I will take the first and last. The first is wisdom and the last is of course being sweet. Before you judge to harshly remember this is my opinion and as my friend Jonny would say "Don't take away my opinion" . I don't believe there is anything wrong with sweetness. It's still a great thing to posses and the world could use more sweet people, but that doesn't mean people like to be around you. Pay attention next time when you are about to say something bad about a friend, most times you'll start off with "don't get me wrong he's really sweet,But ..." or "she sure annoys the hell out of me, but hey she is sweet" Show signs of wisdom however, and people still don't care that much. Rare is a time that you'll hear anyone under 60 say "wow, is he wise". This is because we tend to believe we are the smartest people in the room no matter where we are.
Wisdom to me is not just intelligence, it's what we can discern from people. This is why we love those quotes so much like ol Abe Lincoln or Bill Shakespeare. Number one it makes you sound smarter if you can rattle off the Gettysburg address from memory. two, it gives you validation. But when you think about it, who is Pablo Neruda to tell me that laughter is the language of the soul. He actually does have some great poems and went through some real crap, but my point is why can't Mike down the street tell me the same thing and I believe him? Well maybe Mike did and I just wasn't listening because he's Mike, not some eloquent commie or a playwright from a million years ago. The truth is a wise person can gain insight and truth from almost any conversation or experience. A sweet person can be sweet. Both can change the lives of those around them. A sweet person can bring a lot of joy and sweetness. A wise person can help resolve questions in your life, or maybe they understand that advise that goes wrong can make your best of friends worse than your most hated enemies, so they will choose to be sweet and just say "i don't know, but I sure like you"
Both qualities have their fall backs. If you are sweet you can find yourself doing thing you might just hate, but you can't say no because "that would make them feel bad". So before you know it you're sitting at an Uncle Cracker concert, wishing for a natural catastrophe to take the building out and put you all out of your misery. Being wise can seem you don't get to do a damn thing. For instance it never seems wise to go gambling in the middle of the night when you have work in a couple of hours. Or if you ever have used a credit card period. But a wise person knows that not all knowledge comes from books. sometimes you have to experience some life on you're own. Sometimes you need to go with the choice that everyone around you will say "ooh, I don't think that's wise". Was it wise for the founding fathers to attack the strongest army in the world with some toothless General, some bottle rockets, with a touch of angry Frenchmen on the side? Most would say probably not. And that's where the key to wisdom comes in, that is discerning what's crazy and what could work. Often our modern-day crazies are our latter-day geniuses. (now you can quote me) Sometimes they stay mostly, just crazy. A lot of times you luck into to wisdom. however if you're able to luck into it more times than you don't then congratulations, you are considered wise.
If you can find any point to this post(big if) I think it would be to consider everything a learning experience. Even if you are smarter than everyone. Even from that person that "is sweet, but sure isn't a thinker" Well you can learn from them not to be a jerk ass, and in that is wisdom.
Stay sweet

John, A Witch,The good doctor, and I

2009-12-03T17:27:00.011-07:00

My friend John Baker is one of a kind. When most people have an idea,they quickly assess the old pros and cons. John, he mostly sees the pros and will worry about the cons maybe never. Because of this John has had many adventures. Like the time he had me drop him off on the side of the freeway in California, so he could hitch hike to Las Vegas to see his girlfriend (now wife) for the weekend. I have had the fortune of playing a role in some of these experiences. One such adventure takes me back a few. It was during the NBA finals when the Utah Jazz were playing the Chicago Bulls. My friend John Baker decided that we should be a part of that history. The only problem we had, except for not having tickets, is that we were 20 miles away from Salt Lake City and we were without a car. Normal people would think maybe we could just watch it on a TV. But John wouldn't be John if he settled that easily. We found some broken down bikes in my back yard and off we took to a game. We had no tickets to the game or any air in our tires. as we rode straight up state street it was very noticeable that everyone in the whole state was watching the game due to the lack of traffic, everyone but us. We arrived at the delta center late in the third quarter. They were broadcasting the game across the street on a giant screen. As we looked for a place to sit we happened into pretty much every person we knew, and of course they all offered a belated ride if they had only known. The game was supposedly one of the finest finals games ever. It was the game that Micheal Jordan had the flu and still beat the Jazz. personally I wouldn't know because for most the game I was biking. The game was the least interesting event of the night anyway.

At the end of the game, while following Johns lead, we entered the Delta Center as everyone else was exiting. We started to make our way down to Bill Walton who was calling the game, when I looked up and saw that Julius Erving aka Dr J. was up at the NBC booth. I happened to be wearing my Dr. J 2000 sneakers at the time and thought of how great it would be for him to sign them. As we made it half way to the Doctor, we saw Brian Williams later to be known as Bison Dele doing an interview. I told Brian that I thought he sucked, and he angrily stared up at us. John took the look as a challenge and picked up a paper sign that said "Brick" on it. He then ripped the bottom of the B off so the sign said "prick" and held it up so if Brian were deaf he'd still know how we felt about him. He got the message because he looked like he was about to charge. We did what all people should do after angering a giant, we ran. When we made it to The NBC booth I did get to talk to Dr J, but he wouldn't sign my shoes because of a contract deal or some crap. I was pretty disappointed but I did get to converse with the doctor of dunk.

Again putting myself on cruise control and just following John, we somehow ended up behind the Delta Center where we met then University of Utah coach Rick Majerus. He signed our prick sign without smiling. and waited with us to see the Jazz players. We got tired of waiting and started to leave when Dr. J. made his second appearance. Now feeling bold I told Dr. J. if "I ever get famous I'll give you my autograph " He told me something I've pondered for years. He said "that's good, put a "w" in it" . I asked John "did he just tell me to put a "w" in it?" All John could say is " I think so". After Dr. J's entourage of finely suited men pulled him away from our chat we figured our night was full and started our long journey home. It was only as we exited that someone asked us for credentials to be in the restricted area.

John and I were about half way home when we decided to stop at Wayne's Corner Market. We left our bikes outside and walked in. The cashier quickly told us we shouldn't leave our bikes alone for even a second. We however weren't worried because our bikes were so crappy we were sure we could catch the thieves on foot. When we left the store I had perhaps the most traumatizing experience of my entire life. There was a woman by our bikes, who looked as if she had been smoking the minute she exited the womb. She also had a very loose fitting shirt on with no bra on underneath. I quickly looked away only to have her bring my attention back with the comment "It's colder then a witches tit, I can't catch a cab, and my tits are going to freeze off." At that moment I kind of wish they had frozen off, because my eyes wanted to be burnt out of my scull. She went on to say the word "tit's" about 10 more times. Since then that has been the dirtiest, most offensive word in any vocabulary for me. We finally reached home around 330 in the morning and as I pondered my journey and realized had I just watched the game in the comfort of my home like I planned instead of following John, I sure would have missed out, and I wouldn't be able to tell you what a witches tit looks like.

The only (kind of serious) blog I'll do

2009-11-18T17:39:00.000-07:00

Through out my life I have always had one major goal. That goal was to make people happy. In fact the compliment that i received from my friend Etta Kasalek is still the most cherished of all when she said " I always feel better after I'm around you then i did before".More than often I have tried humor to accomplish the goal because it affords the least amount of real emotion and that way avoid dramatic situations. It all began in the third grade when I was in charge of the telling of "Twas the Night before Christmas" through a small skit. Since I was in third grade and didn't actually learn the lines ( I guess I don't change that much if you were to ask Kristina about the pole dancing video we made ) I simply started into a slapstick set a kin to possibly the three stooges. This went on for a good ten minutes, and the other kids were eating it up even if the teacher wasn't. Hell I don't remember my grade for that assignment but I do remember going from the "too afraid to talk to the teacher so I'll sit here and wet my pants, play alone at recess kid", to the "class clown, ask for the restroom pass kid". I will on occasion still wet my pants just to keep it real however. That ballooned into the mimicry and emulation of the late Chris Farley in my High School years. Now hopefully, my hope anyway, I've been able to have a more sophisticated humor as an adult (not including the joke about still wetting my pants, and yes it was a joke, and for the record I stopped that in the first grade.mostly). Although humor did seem to bring people joy it was still kind of surface so I decided some years ago if I thought something was nice about a person or something I liked, I would just say it. I felt enough people are around to make us understand how insignificant we are, that what if they actually new their potential or how they were actually viewed by others.
Sometimes however, like the rest of us, my decision making skills and thought process can be, well, ridiculous. Once in a while I think the best coarse of action is to push myself away and try to disappear so they don't have to be bothered. A perfect example of that occurred at work this past week. I said something to a co-worker that I didn't even think twice about and went on my merry way. To her it was very different. She was quite mad. I know this because of the flames jumping from her eyes and nose every time I spoke. I knew I had really done it but I didn't quite know what I had done, so I went to my favorite bag of humor, which of course only worsened the situation. Like eating a hot pepper and using water to cool your mouth, all I did was spread the heat and make it worse. through out the week I tried to apologize and smooth things over, but when that didn't seem to be working to me, I went Jackass up again and decided it's better for me to just let her be, and remove myself so the next shift I worked with her I decided to be cordial, speak when spoken to, don't ask any personal questions and all would be right.You genius Phil. Well of course not all was right, and she just figured I was ignoring her. I hadn't done anyone any favors and then we were both pissed.
Another example is of a woman was dating a friend of mine. She had begun to have feelings for me and I assume talked to my friend about it because he called me and told me I should date her. I was conflicted because of the relationship she had with my friend and so I hatched another great scheme. I would be deliberately mean to her so she would stop liking me, and the situation would be resolved. It's a wonder I'm not married right? So I went through with this great plan of mine and all I did was smash down an already fragile friend. She is happily married now with children, but I could have made life much easier for both of us. By trying not to break her heart I ended up hurting her anyway probably worse.I'll stop with those examples for the sake of my self esteem
In my psychology class they call this... just kidding, I don't give a damn what they call it. I just know life is too short, and good friends are too few for me to try to push them away. Instead I should do everything possible to hold on to them. If you fit this category(and there are many of you, men and women) then I am sorry, but just know I am indeed trying to change, as we all should.

Heroes Beware

2009-11-03T20:38:00.000-07:00

In the movie Bottle Rocket, Luke Wilson's character after they knock off a book store said "well I'll tell you one thing I actually learned is, crime doesn't pay". I think that I've learned in my life being a hero pays even less. I did grow up like every other boy, admiring firemen. I was a Boy scout until they asked me not to come anymore. I would read story's on the back page of the scouting magazine Boys' Life which was always reserved for a Boy Scout who saved someone or did some other heroic deed. I dreamt of an opportunity to get that kind of fame. Well I did get my opportunity and then some, but fame turned out to be a fickle mistress. More like a kick in the crotch . Here are some examples of what I mean.

One day, while minding my own business and playing a sweet game of NBA JAMS I was was interrupted by a neighbors screaming. I went outside and could decipher her panicked screeches saying "My house is on fire". So i calmly walked around back grabbed her garden hose and doused the flames. I told her it's not on fire anymore and returned

to my game. When the fire truck arrived, I was informed that they were looking for me. I practiced my" Ah shucks it was nothin boys" speech on the way back over. that would be in vain because when I arrived at the house the only thank you I got was a "that was very foolish" Luckily another neighbor of mine Phil Musumeci was there to announce to the gathered crowd in his fine Italian accent "Don't listen to them, He's a G'damn hero!"

Another example was when I was swimming in the pacific ocean with a cousin. the current

was taking him further and further out. It was difficult for me as well and I realized that we were about to be screwed. I knew I could get back to shore but my strength was going fast trying to swim while pushing my cousin in the the waves. I made a decision that we would both make it back or we would both drown and so I continued to throw my cousin with every wave and yell "now swim!" Luckily my aunt was on the beach and flagged down some surfers to help us. Upon arriving back to the rest of the group my aunt started crying and my grandmother, thinking it was because of something I did (in her defense she was very ill) told me she would rip my balls off. Just hearing you're grandma say balls is traumatizing, much less the thought of castration by her hands.

I once stopped to help a stalled car by pushing it through an underpass. I apparently forgot to stretch properly and my knee cap dislocated, which with other factors started a decline of my knee and led to my knee looking and feeling the equivalent to an eighty year old mans knee.

I had to preform the Heimlich on a guy at work and was actually rewarded for that one with employee of the month only to have a co-worker corner me and

tell me I got it because the boss is biased and since then she has been relentlessly complaining about my poor work ethic.

I also had the audacity to call the cops on a man beating his wife. My fine reward for that, being late to football practice so I had to do 400 push-ups. And as a bonus the cops told the guy who called so he was looking to beat me now.

My latest act however has not bitten me yet. I ran down and cornered a man who was running from the police. It was a female officer and i felt bad that dude was about 300yards in front of her, so I joined in and caught him and told him the lady wanted to talk to him. When the officer finally caught up to us, about three minutes later she pulled her gun on dude and yelled for him to get on his knees and I, learning from previous mistakes took the opportunity to fly out of there like I did when they handed me my high school diploma. I was half way home before they even realized i was involved. All I could think is thank yous be damned. Nothing bad happened And that was Joy.

I'm told that I'll get my reward in heaven, but I want it now, in cold hard cash. I guess it doesn't matter because if I keep helping people with my luck I'll be seeing that heavenly reward sooner than later.

A note of warning:In all of my blogging time I have always enjoyed comments and have never erased any, but I will here on this post if anybody tries to politicize this post with comment like "what about the soldiers, when they're giving their lives only to have people protest?" Or don't try the religious lecture of" how do you think Jesus feels?" The answer is, however he wants to feel I guess. I am obviously writing this post with a facetious tone and if you don't get that then you're not that cool anyway, and if you defy me you will pay. maybe not pay, but I'll probably just erase your comment. If there is any lesson to learn here it's that you should probably do good things because it's the right thing to do. It sometimes is a true sacrifice and that means you don't get Jack back in return. But Who really cares if you get your story in Boys' Life. Screw you Boys' Life. your name kind of sound like a dirty mag anyway.

The 10 things of Annelissa Crane

2009-11-03T18:54:00.000-07:00

This blog post is dedicated to Annalissa Crane. It is her ten best qualities. Before I begin I'm sure people have questions such as: Who is she? Is she your girlfriend? Are you stalking her? Did she pay you to do this? All of these are fare questions(especially the one about stalking) and I will answer them all in the timely fashion of never. Except for her sake I will tell you she's not my girlfriend. I don't want her to sue me for misrepresentation.
So lets begin
10. Her house always smells wonderfully. never was a time when I entered to have my senses disappointed
9. Her Job. I don't know exactly what she does but she works at a hospital so I'm pretty sure she's important.
8. Her devotion to her church. She is not afraid to leave somewhere at 6 am in the morning on a Sunday just to make sure she can make it to her 1 pm services and be prepared. I've seen her do it.
7. Her demeanour. She usually isn't the loudest in the room but she doesn't have to be either. The party seems to come to her rather than her trying to earn it.
6. Her skills in a canoe. she has a fine rhythm and power set she can get us around the lake as if the boat were on tracks.
5. She is very encouraging. She always remembers the thing you told her you were up to, whether it's very strange(which most of mine are) or even very little. She is 100% positive about it. She never will say "that's silly" or "you'll never do it".
4.her straight up kindness. rumor has it she'll just make you cookies if you're having a rough day. I've never experienced that but I don't usually have rough days either.
3.Her laugh. she doesn't have a giggle that I've heard. she either all out laughs or looks at you like you're a dummy, so you know if you are funny or not.
2. Her smile. like her laugh it is very sincere, yet mysterious like she knows you a little bit more than she should so you might as well just tell her everything anyway.
And that leads me to number ONE. Her eye's. I defy you to try and stair into them. you'll crack in seconds. It's like trying to look into the Sun because of their radiance. Okay that's cheesy, but true I don't think I've made it past four seconds yet and I've actually stared at the Sun for five.

The State Fair

2009-09-19T21:42:00.000-06:00

The other day I visited the Utah state fair. It had been years since I ventured into the blessed celebration. What I do remember from my youth is mostly was the unpleasant aroma cow manure, dudes in cowboy hats trying to sell RVs, and junior firemen sticker badges. I also retain vivid memories of the giant slide that you would ride down in a potato sack leaving half of your skin behind on the slide. This year I went more on a whim. My sister Suzy suggested it to me while we were enjoying some burgers at Fudruckers. Since I'm always up for an adventure, I said what the hell why not and off we went to honor our states heritage by sniffing poop and looking at freakish animals( at least they don't use human freaks anymore).

When we arrived, after looking at some point quilting projects,and purchasing some five dollars sunglasses we were ushered in

to a strange tent by some friendly looking carnies with promises of great storybook without words. I enthusiastically sat down and excited for this magical story which turned out to be about Jesus and wasn't much of a story at all, more of a question and answer session. He was right about one thing, his book had no works in it, only a bunch of colors symbolizing different points of this man's sermon. He must've however seen my focus was not on his lord and master but rather on funnel cake, because he stopped abruptly and gave us release from his non-stories preaching.

Feeling a little gypped about not actually hearing a story, I was in sore need of that funnel cake and Suzy had a hankering for some fried alligator. As we neared our destination we were accosted by a robot of all things. Suzi, being filled with childlike wonderment most of the time, and be attracted to flashing lights, engage in a strange conversation with said robot. the robot congratulated us on fine marriage. When Susie attempted to correct his mistake, and told him that you were in deed brother and sister and not married, it was apparent that robots have no social faux pas about incest because even after the explanation he still congratulated us on how well we looked together. He then at least properly introduced himself as ICan because in his words "I can do anything". I figured this robot needed some exposing, so I asked him" can you eat fried alligator on a stick?"he answered" no, I have no digestive tract". I've had just about enough of the lying, incestuous robot and bid him good day. Finally I made it to my original goal and purchased some funnel cake and Suzy got her gator on a stick. Within moments I realized my body was not meant for fair food, and I felt as if my stomach had flipped, a practice I thought was only reserved for dogs. Suzi's gator treated her no better, and we ended up on a bench both moaning and holding our stomachs." I'm all torn up inside" was all I could mutter for the next 10 minutes. After I was able to walk again we started to leave and we happened on a seeing-eye dog that wasn't seeing for anyone, just walking free. At first I was nervous that a blind person without their aid but then I recalled the preacher and his tent and thought of course a blind person would be

drawn into the promise of a storybook without words. I also imagined that the storyteller probably told him his blindness was caused by his lack of faith and freed the dog. With that solid reasoning we left the fair for another year with a sense that I had regained a missing part of my life, and not just the manure smell

The Great Idea of camping

2009-06-18T00:35:00.000-06:00

Who the hell thought up camping? And especially who tricked us into thinking it was fun?Yet every year I get the same bug for a crazy outdoor adventure. Some folks are realizing the dupe and have started to incorporate those things that separate us from the pioneers into camping. I call them "rich people". I went to this dudes cabin one time thinking ol' Abe Lincoln might be hanging out. Instead of honest Abe and a bunch of tree's thrown on top of each other, it was a house where the televisions alone could buy every house i ever lived in combined. I took the opposite route recently. Instead of flipping through 600 satellite channels in a weather controlled room, I ventured into the wild with a group of people from a rehab facility for people with brain injuries. you might ask your self why I would do this, and the simple answer is, I was paid.
Now for the telling of this story I have to change some names because of the confidentiality laws and what not, but I promise you the events are true as the scriptures. This is how it all went down
the place of my employment paid a company to take five of us river rafting down the snake river in Idaho. There was myself and Jackie Neerings as the workers and there was Charles, Ed and Corky as the participants. We arrived at the meeting place at the butt crack of dawn and were loaded onto a reformed handi-capped bus. on the bus we made some new friends. there was Buck who really enjoyed food. I personally witnessed him mash down an entire family sized bag of Doritos. Then there was Tom. Tom also enjoyed food, but mostly he just loved fishing. The final new friend was Martha. These cats all stayed pretty quiet for the trip up. All except Ed who would tell the same bad joke over and over due to the fact he has no short term memory. When we arrived at our camp site Charles had to use the restroom for the ninth time in the last couple of hours. Charles is in a wheelchair so I gave great praise when I looked passed the port-o- potties and saw an actual facility. when we entered the restroom we discovered there wasn't a Handi-capped stall so i would be doing some lifting. Charles also happens to be a man of great girth.when I sat him down he must of rocked backwards or something because the tank on the toilet all of the sudden crumbled like a sand castle being kicked by the brat kid who every one hates( including his parents secretly). within seconds we were up to our ankles of Idaho's finest toilet water springing from the new water fountain which used to be a toilet. The owners were very gracious and told me not to worry about the toilet probably due to fear because really who shatters a toilet that isn't in a Bruce Willis movie? Charles and I returned to find camp set up. All except Corky who also has no short term memory and he figured it was time to go back home cause no one told him 40 times that we were staying the night. Also he had to share a tent with his arch Nemesis Ed. Ed hated Corky. I know this because Ed said "I hate Corky". Ed was a bully for most of his life and has some crazy stories which everybody who hears them hopes they aren't true. Unfortunately censorship also seemed to be wiped away with his memory so he will tell anyone and everyone his grim tales. They did however make it in the tent because of rain and were able to put there differences aside for the common goal of dryness. I shared a tent with Charles who's talent for breaking toilets was only surpassed by his talent for snoring. Around 1:30 that morning through a thirty second reprieve of the snoring I heard a zipper unzip since it was to my right and I knew Jackie was far to the left I thought I had better investigate. I got up and stepped outside to see Corky with suitcase in hand staring at me ready to make a break for it. It looked like one of those movies of Russians fleeing before the wall went up only this time the Russian guard was in his underwear in the rain and sleep deprived. Corky must have felt my rage building and simply said "I need to use the bathroom". I thanked him for lying to me and sent him back to bed. Finally i found sleep, but it wouldn't last because around 5 o' clock Corky made a camp announcement. With suit case in hand he yelled" It's colder that a witches tit in a brass bra, and I'm starving!"which meant sleep was over for me.

that day we geared up and were getting set to raft the river. While we were preparing to raft, the dynamic came to life. Charles started having to have to pee every five minutes. Buck was finishing his third bag of twizzlers that morning. Martha had put on so many jackets she had become trapped. Ed was rambling about a seven foot black man he had to shoot for banging his wife, and Corky had gone to war with a water bottle. His water bottle had a lid on it and he couldn't figure out how to take the lid off so he just attempted to drink from a hole on the top of the lid. He was pouring water straight down his shirt and staring at his bottle as if it had just called his mom a whore. Jackie tried to ease his pain by showing him how to take the lid off. He graciously thanked Jackie, took a sip and placed the lid back on. Ten seconds later he was back to dumping water down his shirt through the hole in the lid and reviling the bottle as the devil. Jackie patiently showed him again how to retrieve water from his great foe, and again he was very thankful to her. This happened about four more times until Jackie was able to clog the hole. After all this the guide stepped forward and told us he thought rain was coming so we weren't going down the river. So we un-trapped Martha and loaded back up.
As we were approaching home the radio began to play the national anthem. soon there was a chorus as everyone on the bus felt obligated to join in the singing some even covering their hearts. I of course joined this sweet patriotic symbol of insanity, and as we sang i said to myself god bless America and god bless that great idea of camping

The Drug Personality Test

2009-06-02T00:48:00.001-06:00

Today I had to take a trip to Logan for work. I was cruising along in a sweet Ford Taurus getting flipped off by beemers, when my co-worker Jackie Neerings and I conversed about what drug our personality would be. I felt like I would be cocaine, because i can sure make a dull situation fun and you almost always leave with less brain cells. Jackie said she would be crack because once you get her in your system you can't get her out. I thought that to be very clever and extremely confident, but it got me thinking with all these personality quizzes being the thing (I see about forty a day on my home page on facebook) isn't it about time for the "narcotic personality test". So here it is and it is every bit as scientific as those Chinese animal ones. I would rather be smack than a goat or a rat any day.

Weed person: if you are the one that says "lets do something" and then when you're asked "O.K., what do you want to do?" and you respond "I don't know" then you are in this category. you like to have a good time, but you suck at making decisions and would rather defer to others to make them for you. You usually are a fun time if accompanied by the right other drug personality.

Mushroom Person: If you hear " what the hell are you talking about" more than once a day then this is your spot my friend. A good example of this would be my friend Ed Johnson (see rest of blog). Like the drug not a lot of research has been done because no one can take that much of you. However you do make for a great story after.

Alcohol Person: you are the person making fun of everyone else, but if they dare shoot back you are ready to knock some teeth out. You are insecure and try to mask it with over-confidence. you usually start out fine and then over do it. You are the one everyone talks about when you're not there saying things like "man they make me uncomfortable" This is a bad one. Don't be this person.

Meth Person: You are very loyal. you would give you're two front teeth if asked. you're the kind of person who always says yes. If a friend asked you to join them for a movie and you didn't have the cash, you would overdraw your bank account just so you didn't disappoint them.

Steroid Person: This person is often referred to as a "Tool" there pumps are flowing full blast and are always viewing others as a threat. they are also known as "one uppers" If you tell a story they tell a better one. If you climb a pole they climb it faster. They usually are good with the opposite sex, so keep these people kind of close. also they might really be on roids.

Acid Person: You are the deep thinkers of the group. In fact sometimes you think so deep no one can stay with you. You are full of ideas that are so vague and yet so huge that follow through is near impossible. but when you can figure out you crazy dream its pure euphoria.

I think what we learn from this test is that it's best to experiment in all the groups and not stick with just one drug personality.

(note: the author of this blog does not condone the use of any of the aforementioned substances. In contrast, he is a strong proponent of "Hugs not Drugs" programs)

The Do's and Don'ts of the Musumeci's itailan deli

2009-04-01T16:54:00.001-06:00

According to Phil's facebook page, the musumeci's deli was ranked as the #1 "Hole in the wall" restaurant in SLC. http://www.cityweekly.net/utah/article-7673-best-of-utah-2009-food-drink.html. I would agree with them, however there are some protocols that need to be followed when enjoying the deli.

Do: Know what you want when you step up to the cash register. I've seen many a man crumble under the pressure placed upon the undecided even the quick thinking Derek Wessman fumbled when squeezed by the Sicilian duo. I've heard that Phil has been referred to as the "Pasta Nazi"
Don't: Bring outside food! This is a biggie and if you do find you're self breaking this one Don't be a smart ass about it. There was a fella who broke both these rules once. He almost didn't live to tell about it. He brought some of the competitors food in and took a seat. The Phil's are great guys but come on, they've got a business to run. Plus they have the biggest "No Outside Food or Drink" sign in any restaurant ever. So this dude was a punk to begin with. He was told to move on and took exception. He sprayed the Musumeci's with obscenities then found out real quick why you shouldn't do that in a Sicilian kitchen. Papa Phil chased the punk out and according to Phil just happened to have a knife in his hand cause he was cutting bread. I'm just glad for everyone that punk dude got away so Phil could make that claim.

Do: Buy a sandwich from them cause they're great. enough said
Don't: Ask Phil Sr. if he is connected to the mob. Besides being ethnically insensitive, why would he tell you? And if the answer is yes then you would probably wish you hadn't asked. One time younger Phil asked his dad and his dads response was "whats the mob?"
Do: Tell Phil Sr. that soccer sucks and American football is the best. Only do this if you have a lot of time, because you are about to get an earful. I dare you.

I can't tell you how many times I've been to the deli, but every time I have thoroughly enjoyed myself and the two Phil's crazy antics I know all six of you people who read this blog have some more stories so please post them in the comments space

Philip and the wild dogs

2009-03-20T13:06:00.000-06:00

One hot summer night I sitting in the living room of my home. I was enjoying a T.V. program when I was interrupted by a woman's scream from outside. Unfortunately that was fairly normal on the street. The Sandy police should have set-up a sub-station on good ol' 9585 south because they were there every other night. In fact one day my dad called the chief and told him he ran his crew like a pack of wild dogs. This probably increased the cop traffic on our street. The Cops presence was in no small part due to the involvement to young Phil Mususmeci. Indeed almost every time Phil was there. This experience was no different since the woman's voice was actually Phil's high pitched squeal of fury. I rolled my eyes and walked out to the porch to watch the show. Phil was berating my immediate neighbor to the left, calling her all manors of obscenities and making new ones as well. At one point he yelled to my neighbors live-in boyfriend to "put his bitch on a leash." I said to myself "now dude has to get involved," but dude just sat there. Apparently he wanted nothing to do with the 350 pounds of pure angry Italian meat that was verbally beating seven kinds of shit out of his lady. This whole argument was over fireworks and of course the calling of the cops. Apparently my neighbors were lighting fireworks at 12:30 am the night before. The Musumecis did not appreciate the show so they rang up the fuzz. The next night the woman decided to confront the M's. Big mistake! She now got a mouth firework show. And that takes us to me watching safely from my porch. The cops were there in a couple of minutes, probably anticipating the nights event. They quickly broke it up and peace once again reigned on 9585 south. Lest you think this is one of my quick wrap ups due to my lack of attention span, this story is not over, oh no. Two weeks later I was enjoying my birthday party with some close friends in my backyard. I had previously that night given some mortar shell fireworks to my friend Jaren Petersen. I wasn't about to use them after all the trouble earlier. But Jaren didn't mind the trouble and as he was leaving shot one off. It took us all by surprise and even made Boyd Madsen flip the hammock he was laying in. He landed on his face and guts, still makes my laugh out loud picturing that. We just continued in our conversation and all but forgot about the shell that lit the night, when the neighbor, the same one who allegedly needed to be leashed poked her head over the fence and said" are you the one's shootin' the fireworks cause someone called the cops." She continued with "I'll betch ya it was those dirty Italians across the street, cause they called the cops on us" unfortunately for her it was dark and she couldn't see that the dirty Italian was siting right next to me. Phil started in with round two when I asked him to honor my birthday and keep the peace. He honorably did and I was amazed. The cops did show up and were greeted by a personal escort from Boyd who announced there presence with a "hey guys the fuzz is here". This cop was probably getting off in a couple of minutes and wanted nothing to do with any of this so he just told us if we had them hide them and reminded us of the fine. We just blamed it on some kid who left the party early and was working on his own. The cop didn't care. That was the only time I can say that for the cops on good ol' 9585 south.

The family gathering

2009-02-19T16:15:00.000-07:00

Usually I claim culture is just an excuse for doing bad things. This story is no exception. Phil is part Sicilian and his father is the real deal. The Musumeci's are a generous loving people, but when it comes to sheer will, or just being really pissed they take first place. Because of our obsession of mob movies anyone with that thick accent gets our imagination running. Phil's father Phil all though not connected,posseses that very accent, and gratefully for me lives up to the hype. One such occasion was at a forth of July family barbecue at a neighbors house. Philip (that's what we'll call the younger so we don't get mixed up) started whining because he didn't want steak. Phil thought Philip a little bitch, and told him so. Philip decided to let his dad know he didn't appreciate that in a disrespectful manor which blew the lid off that pot so high some neighbors still haven't recovered. F- bombs started flying, as the threats kept increasing in severity. Finally Phil took it to the scary point when he picked his steak knife up held it to Philip's face and said "I'll cut your face off with this f-n knife. Philip did the smartest thing he had done all afternoon and got up and walked away. However as he walked he kept his mouth running saying things like " come on, dad", which got the response from papa Phil "I kicked the shit out of you before and I'll do it again" Then to my knowledge the only threat that was actually held was uttered from Philip's sweet New Yorker mother who said "I'm not speaking to the both of you's" . Philip confirmed that she didn't for about two weeks.
I think the most amazing part of all of this is how the barbecue just continued on after like no ones life had been threatened. Phil ate his steak, Philip didn't, and we all enjoyed fireworks that night except poor sweet Barb Musumeci who was mightily embarrassed by her men

2009-02-10T18:54:00.001-07:00

Since I have pretty well exhausted the Chronicles of Ed Johnson adventures, I have decided to focus on a new champion. His name is Phil Musumeci. Even though I know for a fact that Phil has read this blog I will not compromise. Mainly cause I know I could take Phil in a fight.

In this posting I will give you some background on Phil. Phil I have always said was the most sensitive heterosexual man I know. He moved to Utah some years ago and was known for his massive movie video collection, Cd's and fine assortment of playboys.

He and his father run a deli in downtown Salt Lake City. It's known for having fine sandwiches and the adventurous chance that you might get your ass kicked by the owners. I once ran into a man who told me "I've been sky diving, travelled to strange countries, but I have never been so intimidated as when I ordered food there." Of course he meant it as a compliment, so don't be frightened off from visiting them.
Phil also has a thing for the radio biz. He has won countless Disneyland trips and concerts over the years. His favorite station is 101.9 The End although I heard that sack of shit morning D.J. Chunga calling Phil fat for twenty minutes. That's rich coming from a dude who admitted to having lypo. But Phil is a lover and easily forgives even when forgiveness isn't even asked for.
I hope you enjoy this journey into Phil's life from my perspective. I hope that like Ed you see my actual love for these characters even though I seem harsh at times. I write with no malice.Well except for to Chunga you fat bastard.

Ed Johnson's Debacle

2009-01-31T15:26:00.000-07:00

This isn't Phil. I know that this website is called just Phil, but that was basically a lie to get you to this web log (commonly referred to as "blog.") In fact, this is Phil's best friend and mentor Boyd. (some have also call me Phil's Lord and Master, but I defer to Jesus on those titles.)

Phil has recently been writing a number of stories about Ed Johnson, a childhood friend of ours. We both have a love and sort of retarded respect for Ed that has been born of going through thick and (mostly) thin with him for 10 or so years. We were there when Ed tried to convince us that soccer doesn't suck, we were there when Ed rocked a bolo tie at church, and we were there when Ed would come over and play Christifori's Dream on the piano ad naseum until you wanted to shoot yourself in the face with a 12 gauge shotgun. But there was a time when we weren't there for Ed. And that, my friends, was when Ed Johnson's Debacle occur ed.

Ed had secretly been wooing the niece of our high school choir teacher. Unbeknownst to his closest of friends, Ed had been to third base and back with this girl. If he just would have told us, just would have counselled with us, we would have told him to stop there. This girl was not attractive at all, nor was she cool. But Ed was lonely. Could you blame him? Yes. You could and did. Well, you can probably see where this story eventually ended: In the back seat of a 1972 Volkswagen Beetle. That night, Ed made a debacle. And his debacle was boning that ugly chick.

I won't go into the sordid details of what happened that night, nor where Ed's ejaculate ended up, but I will discuss the aftermath of his actions. For a while, none of us believed Ed when he told us that he had taken this most unfortunate of steps, but then, rumors from the girls camp started to be heard. See, that girl was spreading rumors about Ed's junk around the school, saying that it was small. Having seen Ed's junk in the shower at various Scout camps, I could dispel any of those rumors and am here to say once and for all that Edwin Johnson has a perfectly nice sized brat and potatoes. Shame on that girl if it cost Edwin any chances at better girls in the future!

Ed was ashamed of himself on many levels, including morally, but at least he had horrible friends like Phil, Derek, and me to remind him of his mistake. Indeed, we named two fairly mediocre intramural Basketball and Softball teams at Snow College in his memory: Ed Johnson's Debacle. We were just as poor on the court as Ed was in the back seat of that old VW. When Ed came to Snow to visit us, he was apoplectic with rage to find that we would name an intramural team thus, but in common Ed fashion, he good naturedly forgave us and saw the jacked-up humor in what we had done. Ed's a good guy that way.

Years have passed and I rarely see Ed anymore, but if I did, I would put my arm around him and thank him for all of the laughs over the years. Then, I would apologize for making him the butt of so many of those laughs. With this story, I believe Phil will retire the "Ed Johnson" theme and move on to another crazy in his past. It's probably time. So Ed, if you ever find this site, know that it was all done in love and for a laugh, and that any mean-spiritedness was done out of my own immaturity. God Bless you, Ed. You are an Icon.

2009-01-19T22:41:00.000-07:00

Eat at Buccaneers Today!

All Smoked! All the time!

Even the dessert is smoked!

Ed and the road trip

2009-01-06T17:14:00.000-07:00

This is a story about a road trip I once took with Ed and some other stars. We decided to drive to Phoenix or rather Derek decided we would go to Phoenix. The group consisted of Boyd Madsen, John Baker, Derek Wessman, Myself and of course Ed Johnson. The others may have known about this trip in advance, but my warning was quite minimum. I have a hard time telling Derek no and when he threw in that we would be going to a dodgers game, i decided with the heart and not the brain.(like many of the wendover trips in the middle of the night even though I have to be to work at 8 in the morning). I am glad I went though and it has become a great memory. While we all spewed profanities and talked about who was doing what to whom's mother, (by the way I checked with my mom and they were all lies, that or my mom is a real lying whore but I'm pretty 100% sure its the first one) when all of the sudden Ed got real excited and screamed "its the theme song to my marriage" and then turned the radio up to deafness level and began to sing along to the Starship song "Nothings Gonna Stop Us Now". I think that's what it's called maybe someone can clarify.

Later on the trip we drove onto the Indian reservation. Ed started to fill us in on the history his people. General Custer couldn't have done a better job of making us think those Indians were worthless than Ed and his stories. Luckily and hopefully we all realized that the opinions shared were not the opinions of the Navajo tribe or its AA sponsors, and Ed had no written or oral consent for his tour. I don't think Ed meant to put his tribe down, I think he wanted us to know how hard life is on the res. Also you have got to remember Ed is clueless and in fact reminded us of that when he said "look as this crappy land they gave us". Derek politely reminded him that that was the land of his ancestors that they chose before they knew of the white man. On the way back I was working on a three liter of Shasta when I bored and littered it on the highway on the reservation. "You idiot! Ed yelled. You could get a fine on the reservation". I asked," Because we couldn't all those times in Arizona and Utah?" Ed didn't answer. In fact he stayed quiet for about an hour when he asked "Are we in Utah?" Someone answered"yea we have been in Utah for about 20min." Ed then grabbed a whole bag of garbage and hucked it out the window.My response was of course "you idiot you could get A fine for that."

To soften it up for Ed when I think of that trip we were all a bit out of control and immature, and I could have written about anyone of the participants on the trip. Like John going to Eve's Tease, but that wouldn't go with my theme here now would it. If anyone would like to add Ed stories go right ahead. I know he would appreciate it

Ed Johnson Story 2

2008-12-12T11:00:00.000-07:00

This story takes place in the same spot as most of mine and Ed's sorted tales do, Snow College. That was an awful and awesome experience. Ed would often come to stay with my roommate Boyd. He had worn me out by this time, so my patience was poor with Ed. Boyd would often bring Ed up and then find something better to do(like milk his girlfriend; see the last blog)and so I would be stuck with him.
Times were hard at Snow. I lived at the the Snow Chateau, which apparently in french means giant shithole. I didn't have any money because I spent all the money I earned working at Carl's Jr. on a 1982 Honda Accord. One week I returned to school with some food my mom had bought me. It was going to last two weeks or I was going back to my diet of corndogs. Ed had come down with Boyd, he was planning on staying the whole week.
The next day I was walking up the stairs in the Snow Shithole and noticed Josh Kitchen eating a hot pocket. I followed him into the kitchen and found Brock Diediker making about 9 grilled chee sandwiches for himself. Brock ate a lot after football practice(I once witnessed him drink a whole 24 pack of beer in one night and I'm still amazed)but Brock never bought groceries. I asked him where he got the food. He told me"that kid in your room gave it to me" Josh then said "yea I got this from him too" holding out the hot pocket. I was enraged. I ran to my room looked in my fridge and the little bastard had cleaned me out. Just then Ed came strolling in the room. I with great restraint asked him what the hell he was thinking. His response was possibly the worst one imaginable."I can, I'm your guest". "Oh your my guest huh? well lets go guest" I said as I swooped up his beading. I took his ass home right then in my 100 dollar Honda, not knowing if it would make the 200 mile trip. I didn't care, I would hitch hike back if i had to. I just didn't want to commit murder. My car did make it back, and on the way I stopped and used my last five bucks on a box of state farm corn dogs.

The Ed Johnson Facts and possible myths

2008-12-03T14:15:00.000-07:00

Here are some things that weren't long enough for stories. I guess you can call them tidbits, but I have always thought that was a gay name for anything, so I wont use that.

Ed once had relations with a girl. It was always called The Ed Johnsons's debacle. It was the name of the most fouled mouthed intramural basketball team snow college has ever witnessed.

Ed once claimed that Boyd Madsen claimed he was hungry so he pulled his girlfriends breast out to get a drink of milk. Boyd did that all right in front of Ed. I'm pretty sure Boyd's girlfriend wasn't producing milk at the time, but hey if Ed says it ?????

Edwins father Key Once asked the question "how do you eat a Mongolian?" The only answer any of us could come up with is "With a knife and Fork?" Key told us" no because a Mongolian very tough"(there's no typo there by the way). I never did find out how to eat those damned Mongolians.

A conversation with Ed

2008-11-23T21:37:00.000-07:00

The following is the last conversation I had with Ed

Phil: Hello?
Ed: Hey Phil It's Ed I'm in town.
Phil: Cool man, you want to do something?
Ed: No I'm actually heading back to St.George
Phil: oh, well you should have called me earlier, but hey I might be heading down to St.George in a couple weeks. You should give me your number.
Ed: I don't have a phone.
Phil: So how are you calling me now?
Ed: Oh I'm using my brothers cell phone. It's pretty much mine because I use it all the time.
Phil: So what's his numb- ah never mind, have a good one Ed bye.

Ed Johnson story 1

2008-11-18T10:52:00.000-07:00

This Ed Johnson story takes us way back to my fourteenth birthday sleepover celebration. I had a whole crew of all-stars over that night, so something brilliant was bound to happen. After we enjoyed some soft porn in the form of the movie "Hollywood Hot tubs" we had retired to the backyard to begin some other form of unholy mischief. As soon as are sleeping bags were unraveled on the ground a pillow fight broke out. Ed thinking he was so damned brave challenged us all at once. Little did he know Nick Correa was playing with a loaded pillow. As we surrounded and beat the brains out of Ed, Ed unsurprisingly freaked out about it. Ed turned to Boyd Madsen and punched him right in his mouth. I knew my party rep was on the line so I swooped in like a hawk and captured Ed in the first of many choke holds I would preform in my life. Ed went limp, so I let go and he did what any good Indian by would do, he ran. After Ed had taken off maybe for Canada, Nick said "hey guys I forgot about this" and then pulled a baseball out of his pillow case. He begged us not tell Ed, and he even cried a little bit, but the first thing we did was try to hunt Ed down to tell him. Ed finally returned in the wee hours of the morning apologized and went to sleep in my bed away from the rest of us. In the morning all was forgiven and friendships renewed

The Legend of Ed Johnson

2008-11-11T17:22:00.000-07:00

Here it is . On the advice of my friend Boyd I have decided to dedicate most of this blog to memories of Edwin Yazee Johnson son of Key Johnson. My intent here is not to offend anyone who knows Ed, just to offend his loved ones. In reality I just have some crazy stories about ol Ed an Me and I think others will enjoy them. Every week I will share a new story or memory, but you won't get any more background after this blog so pay attention. Ed and I grew up a few blocks apart. We attended the same elementary Hillsdale. Back then Hillsdale didn't have a huge minority population so even though I am blonde with blue eyes I was always put down as a Native American because of some crazy Indian ancestry. Ed as you should know by his middle name is also Indian. Once in a while they would gather us together(like the agents of old) and tell us what we could get out of our heritage. It was at one of these gathering that I first saw Ed. How could I not notice him with his amazing rat tail haircut. Later I would share a soccer team with Edwin and finally we enjoyed church services together where Ed turned in his rat tail for an even more amazing bollo tie. Though most of my stories will seem negative about Ed I do have to say I still have some love for the guy, and in fact had actually admired him in Jr high mistaking being clueless with confidence. He is never malicious or mean he just pissed me off a lot. So Ed if you ever come across this by googling yourself hopefully we can get back together and make more insane memories

2008-10-29T17:40:00.000-06:00

I am a man who loves experiences. Probably not the type most people think of such as going to foreign lands, eating exotic cheese and that crap. Nope I can get all I need right where I am. Example one: I've decided I am going to bench press 400 pounds just to do it. I'm not in any athletic competition nor do I think it will help with the ladies. I was at the gym one day and just thought how would it feel to bench half of a Chevy Geo. So far I would say it feels not so good on the shoulders. The gym leads me to my next undertaking.

Example Two:this crazy dance exercise class called zumba. I have never actually danced much in my life because of the fact I can't. However my curiosity once again led me to this room at the gym where I am a head taller than everyone in the all-female class. I felt pretty good about my moves until I saw my moves in the mirrors.

Example Three: I rode a tree log down the Provo river with my friend Derek. That was mainly painful

Example Four: I have decided to take up furniture upholstery. Right now I'm working on a kick ass chair, well I think it is kick ass. I've even thought about making a water bed couch.

Maybe I am crazy or maybe I have a beautiful mind? I don't know. Only time will tell(o.k. I'm crazy) but either way I have got to get to zumba so bye