Saturday, December 25, 2010

Happy Festivus!

Christmas time in my house has probably always been a little off. I haven't noticed the full extent of our annual oddness until this year. Here are a few holiday posts to brighten up your Christmas!

★ First of all... How I spent my day during our annual Solstice Party. 

Around 9:00 am (much too early for a college student on vacation) I got up and ready to go skiing. Immediately I noted something was wrong. 

I woke up with this weird coppery taste in my mouth. I sat down for about ten minutes and stared at a wall before telling my dad it would probably be a terrible idea if I went skiing. 
Needless to say, I was right.  

My parents decided it would be a good idea if I wasn't sick around the party guests, so I was shut away in their bedroom like that creepy monster thing from The Goonies. Their room is about 40 degrees below zero, so I was buried under like the 12 Days of Blankets. 

I was weighted down with a sheet, an orange alpaca blanket, a cheap fleece one, a light comforter, a woolen Pendleton one, my OSU fleece one, and my parent's super thick bed duvet, just to name a few. I was quite toasty, but I was basically paralyzed from a combination of my utter weakness and about 2,000 pounds of blankets. 

I probably slept for about 22 hours that day. I bonded with that Tempur-Pedic mattress like no person ever has before. 
I actually lost count of how many times I did the technicolor yawn, but I think I finished out somewhere around seven. 
I also lost ten pounds! 

Lots of my friends were sick around then too and Facebook was a-flutter with "I'm sick" status updates. 
They were all complaining about having body aches and congestion. 
Those pussies. 
I responded, "Yeah, well I barfed seven times! I win!"

They agreed,
I totally won.

★ A list of Christmas songs my dad has ruined for me forever by altering the lyrics. 

Generally he's "enhanced" (his word choice) them by interjecting profanities or turning a section of a holiday song into a coital reference. I almost always remember these changed lyrics rather than the original innocent ones, which is a very bad thing.
(I've italicized the changed lyrics for your viewing pleasure.)

Frosty the Snowman 
  • "Humpity hump hump, humpity hump hump. Look at that Frosty go!"

  • "Giddyup Jingle horse, pick up your goddamn feet. Carry us around the block..."
  • "And crap! You'll take a leak..."

Walking in a Winter Wonderland (x3)
  • "Walking in a woman's underwear."
  • "In the meadow we can build a snowman, and pretend that he is partially brown. He'll say, 'Are you married?' We'll say, 'None of your goddamn business, man'...."
  • "Later on, we'll perspire. As we *hummina hummina hummina* by the fire."

The Little Drummer Boy
  • "Pa rum pa pum pum pum, rum pa pum pum, rum pa pum pum... in my bum..."
The Christmas Song (Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire)
  • "Chestnuts roasting on an open fire, Jack Frost nosing at your nip."

The Holiday Season / Happy Holidays
  • "It's the buns up and squealin'."
Snow (from White Christmas)
  • "I want to wash my face, my hair, and baunch in snow..."

Thanks Dad. 

★ And finally there's the annual Christmas Tree Fiasco. 

Getting our tree is like trying to solve a giant jigsaw puzzle. But you're smaller than all of the puzzle pieces, and the puzzle hurts people, and has tree sap all over it. So in reality, a more apt comparison might be a bad acid trip.
The red X signifies where we like to put the tree every year. The colored boxes are couches, desks, and other obstacles. 

We believe in doing everything as extreme as possible. Our tree probably averages about 15 feet every year. 
Unfortunately, due to our desired location of the tree, there is no simple way to get a coniferous holiday decoration that large into our house. Or probably any house for that matter. Usually it involves a lot of alcohol, yelling, falling, cursing, and broken things.  Our flight path changes from year to year...
I believe we broke most the branches off of one side of the tree in '08.
'09 was a real tragic year, with not only two ornaments being broken, 
but we nearly had an ER visit. 

This year, however, I think we finally have figured it out. Up and over.
(Now, instead of sketchy drawings, you will be allowed to view my second-class photography skills!)
Our house, preparing to ingest the tree through the second-floor balcony door. 

Up she goes...

And into the house...

Kay, now we're in the house, looking up as the tree comes over the railing. 
Butt first. 
Right at my face. 
I thought this was going to be the last thing I saw before I died. 

Under half an hour from the tree harvest to having it perfectly set up in the house. 

And that's how it's done, biozztches! 

Happy Holidays!

Monday, December 6, 2010

My Dad is Awesome

My dad was a ski patroller for 18 years. I'm not gonna lie, but he's pretty badass.

 One day my dad was notified of a stuck skier.

The man was found in an out of bounds section of the mountain, which was punishable by season ticket removal.

Which the man argued against vehemently. It was 100% obvious that the man was of fault, especially since the man had to have ducked under a rope attached to a sign that said, "NO SKIING: Out of Bounds".

The man argued that there was no sign. So my dad, with his superior brain capacity, radioed another patroller to check and see if the bounds was still intact.
The other patroller said something to the effect of: "Boundary line intactness is a 10-4."
At which point it was time to clip the man's ticket.
At which point the man got rather angry.
So naturally, to vent frustration, he yelled some bad words and made angry faces. When that didn't help, he went into a pole-smashing tantrum.

Unfortunately, he wasn't aware of one fact. My dad is a friggen stud. Therefore his ski poles are also studly, by association. Basically, the poles were smelted from the titanium from Mt. Olympus and forged by Hephaestus himself.
The man's ski poles were quite the opposite. I'm no expert on ski poles, but I'm 98% certain that they consisted of melted down Bud Light cans, smelted from the nearest trailer park, forged by some toothless meth addict.
Inevitably, the man's little pussy ski poles couldn't handle the raw power of my dad's.
They snapped in half, just like Joe Theismann's leg.

Needless to say, this did not help the man's frustration.
He eventually skied away, but not before offering some brutally low IQ scoring remarks.

Later that day, the man proudly strutted into the main patrolling headquarters. He was going to have that rude ski patroller fired for... whatever he did. That rat bastard.

"I need to talk to the head patroller," the man said to the receptionist.
"Okay, I'll call him down," the receptionist said.

This was it! He would finally have the last word! He would get vengeance on that terrible man who simply enforced the rules. He was going to talk to the head patroller! The wholly god of the mountain, commander of all patrollers and skiers who worshipped the snow he skied on.

Footsteps echoed down the corridor from the head patroller's office.

The man began to practice his speech in his head; thinking of how exactly he should embellish his story to make it most incriminating. Something involving axing a bucket of kittens to death perhaps...

He saw a giant shadow with rippling muscles and began his complaint.
"Hello good sir," the man began, "I had a conflict with one of your patrollers today and-"

But the man stopped mid-sentence.
Because there...
in the hallway...
stood my dad.

"I'm the boss, mothafucka."

Saturday, December 4, 2010

How I Study

Have a very fruitful day.

It is a jungle out there kiddies.

I've been conditioning myself to be able to function at ungodly morning hours. Thank you chemistry and math for being little biozztches and scheduling my finals at 7:30 AM. Assholes.
So my plan was to go to bed at a decent hour and wake up progressively earlier each morning and force-feed myself chemistry and math. And I was doing so well until last night.

I found myself walking with my friends to Circle K, a glorified gas station, to go rent movies at midnight. Damn peer pressure. Disney's Oceans and the movie of Avatar: The Last Airbender. We finally finished watching The Last Airbender around three in the morning. Not only did this movie make me want to rip my brains out of my cranium due to a total lack of talent on the actors' parts, but it basically shattered my memories of watching the show as a child. Sokka wasn't hot. And all the names were pronounced wrong. The dialogue was terrible.

I had been awake for well over 19 hours by that point, so, from what I remember, I started to get pretty punchy.

  • "This is a sacred place. Our city was built around this place." Can you use the word "place" a few more times please, just to drill it home. 
  • After realized that they're going to drown in a watery grave unless they got the fuck away from the breaking ice: "Move away from the cracks!" Good call, idiot. 
  • While Aang is trying to meditate. Katara's all, "CAN YOU HEAR ME!?" ... it was like... Shut up biatch! I'd smack a hoe. 

 I've found that number of sarcastic comments made is almost directly linked to how many hours I've been awake.

I think I went to bed around four in the morning.
I woke up around noon.
I'm ready for a nap.