The Great Idea of camping

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

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

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

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.