Can Survive

The situation down home is not good. No electricity. No water. Hot. Some looting going on.
The interview was cancelled (again), so I'm taking off tonight for the deer camp. My mom, stepdad, and little brother are "roughing it" out there until some sort of order is restored to the area.
By roughing it I mean they are sitting in the AC, watching cable, hunting when it's not too hot out, drinking beer all day, and cooking steaks for almost every meal.
I could use a break. The job is really pissing me off this week.
I'm coming back Friday night to play in a big state softball tournament Saturday and take some good friends (evacuees) to the Stockyards.
Take care.

That Yankee is stealing our words!

All my people are safe. They "hunkered down" (CNN's new favorite southern phrase) and rode out the storm at my dad's house. He had obtained a generator and 15 gallons of gas before Rita came through. They played PS2 and pumped water out of the pool to flush the toilets.
Others were not so lucky.
I'll know more when I go back this week. There is a shit ton of work to be done.
The roof of my grandmothers house was ripped off. Surprisingly, most of her antique dishes and furniture was unharmed.
Strangely, the Bible she left on her coffee table was opened to a page proclaiming "Christ is Coming".
The electrical pole at my mom's house is gone.
My stepdad's friend lost his house. He lived on the creek so it was kind of expected.
Trees everywhere. Obliteration.
The Dairy Queen, Sonic, and Brookshire Bros. (grocery) in Kountze were all badly damaged. This will greatly affect the economy of my hometown.
I got all of this info second hand from phone calls between my dad, mom, aunt, and grandparents.

The wedding was Friday night. It went off without a hitch. Well, the parts I remember went off without a hitch.
Apparently, sometime after my 10th beer and 3rd Makers Mark there was some drama.
Apparently, I started doing cannonballs onto the airmattresses, which pissed off the bride's uncle.
Apparently, I called the bride's uncle a flamer, which is amazing since he's about twice my size. [But he really is a flamer.]
Apparently, I used the video camera to tape my friend's girl's boobs for a solid minute. Almost saw a nipple.
Apparently, I proclaimed myself to be an honorary member and "the Ambassador of this family."
It's good to have friends.

A week I will never forget

While she is supposedly losing strength, Rita is aiming directly for the Golden Triangle area (Beaumont, Port Arthur, Orange).
My family is together in the brick home I grew up in. They have boarded up the windows and stocked up on supplies. They are in Kountze, about 20 minutes north of Beaumont.
The house they are in is solid, and the fact that they are all together is comforting.
However, our prayers are still needed.

In more local news, the wedding tonight is on. My friend's fiancee was stuck in traffic on I-45 for over 20 hours! Her and her family finally made it in late last night and she is ready to get married. We've thrown together a ceremony and are looking forward to a kickass Hurricane Party. I'm leaving early to go help.
Peace out and keep the faith.

'Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends,' John 15:13

Rita has turned eastward and is bearing down on my hometown. Pray for those who stayed behind to weather the storm.

The link below is to an article about my friend TH.
http://www.southeasttexaslive.com/site/news.cfm?newsid=15249784&BRD=2287&PAG=461&dept_id=512588&rfi=6

RITA SUCKS (and blows)

Mother Nature is fucking up my weekend.
I was suppose to be leaving after work today and going to interview in Beaumont tomorrow afternoon. From there I was planning on playing golf with my best friend (the Groom) and getting retarded at his fancy wedding Saturday night.
But the stupid hurricane is not letting that happen.
Instead I got to stay here and work the rest of the week.
My interview got rescheduled for next Wednesday.
The wedding is going to be Friday night at the Groom's house in Bum Fuck Egypt (east of Denton).
My damn phone won't quit ringing because no one knows what's going on and everyone is scrambling to find a place to stay this weekend. (I'm putting 3 ladies up with me. Big pimpin' for sure.)

On the bright side, I'm taking off 3 days next week to do this interview. That will also free me up to enjoy the Rice Festival in Winnie where Cross Canadian Ragweed, Kevin Fowler, and Wayne Toups will be playing.

TH's killer was released on $450,000 bail Monday. The funeral was Tuesday. The other guy who got shot is doing better.

Rest in Peace

Growing up in a small Texas town, the little league baseball park was our main source of social connection. TH lived next door to the park. His dad was the LL president. You know the family I'm talking about. Hard-working, middle class father sires a badass ballplaying son. The kid had a bucket full of homerun balls in his room. The kind of kid who made opposing 12 year old batters cry. He pegged me in the ass with a tennis ball during a game of WallBall once. The bruise was there for days.
I played on TH and his father's team several times throughout the course of my LL career. If I was lucky enough to be on his team, we won 1st. It was a no-brainer.
TH was the most amazing baseball player at 12 years old that I or anyone in my small town had ever seen. Homers, no-hitters, 70-mph fastballs. No kidding, this kid was going to be a major leaguer for sure.
At 15 he was invited to play in Amsterdam with some college-age guys in an international tournament. Kid batted about .400, hit a few homers, and threw a few shutouts. 3 years younger than all the other guys. BMF.
It looked like our high school team was going to be awesome.
Until TH got sick. What began as a minor illness quickly worsened to the point of death. Bacterial meningitis is no joke. The story goes that TH died on the helicopter for 3 minutes and came back. But he was not the same.
The cells in his fingertips had died. His Herculian strength was gone. His spirit was still very much alive, however.
After missing all of his sophomore year, TH rehabbed and came back midway through his junior (my sophomore) year. We wrapped a towel around the the handle of his bat and taped over it to cut down on the reverberations and protect his still-tender fingertips.
With his homerun power gone, the guy started slapping singles and doubles around. Eventually getting his average back into the .400's. His fastball had lost a lot of the velocity it once had, but the control was still there.
After his senior year, no colleges were intersted in him. Never the pessimist, TH went to work in the oil fields and gave up the game he loved. He planned on settling down and having a few badass ballplayin' sons of his own. Continue the legacy and all.
We lost touch for a few years. Last I'd heard he bought some land north of town and was engaged to his high school sweetheart, a girl I've known since my first day of kindergarten.

TH was killed yesterday on a dirt road outside of our hometown. He was riding 4-wheelers with his fiancee and cousins. A man with a gun threatened his friends and family for trespassing on his property when riding and a scuffle ensued. TH was shot in the head and another friend was shot in the neck (he is currently in critical condition).
The world lost a very good man yesterday for no good reason at all.

Looking the Gift Horse Directly in the Mouth

I've got a minute so guess it's time to updat the old blog. Seems I don't have a whole lot of my own original material lately.
SSDD.
Still playing softball. Still working and drinking and walking the dog.
Got a job interview lined up with the Big Evil Corporation next week, then my best friend's wedding.

I know it's really tragic about all the stuff that happened in New Orleans, but I haven't really done anything to help yet. I went through my closet last night and got a shitload of clothes to donate. I'd been planning on dropping them off at one of the billion or so donation center set up here in DFW.
Then I got this email. It's disturbed my sympathetic views on all the hurricane evacuees a bit. Just read it and leave your opinion on it if you want. Sorry I'm too lazy to edit the >>> marks and stuff. Just read it.

This is from a guy here in Houston that went to volunteer his time to >> help>> the hurricane victims. It is pretty sad and disappointing to think people>> could be so ungrateful.>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
SO I VOLUNTEERED..........>>>> I thought I might inform the few friends I have on my recent traumatic>> experience. I am going to tell it straight, blunt, raw, and I don't give >> a>> damn. Long read, I know but please do read!!!>>>> I went to volunteer on Saturday at the George R. Brown convention for two>> reasons.>>>> A: I wanted to help people to get a warm fuzzy.>> B: Curiosity.>>>> I've been watching the news lately and have seen scenes that have made me>> want to vomit. And no it wasn't dead bodies, the city under water, or the>> sludge everywhere. It was PEOPLE'S BEHAVIOR. The people on T.V. (99% >> being>> Black) were DEMANDING help. They were not asking nicely but demanding as >> if>> society owed these people something. Well the honest truth is WE DON'T. >> Help>> should be asked for in a kind manner and then appreciated. This is not >> what>> the press (FOX in particular) was showing, what I was seeing was a group >> of>> people who are yelling, demanding, looting, killing, raping, and SHOOTING>> back at the demanded help!!!!! So I'm thinking this can't possibly be >> true,>> can it???? So I decide to submit to the DEMAND for help out of SHOCK. I>> couldn't believe this to be true of the majority of the people who are >> the>> weakest of society. So I went to volunteer and help folks out and see the>> truth. So I will tell the following story and you decide:>>>> I arrived at the astrodome only to find out that there are too many>> volunteers and that volunteers were needed at the George R. Brown >> Convention>> Center. As I was walking up to the Convention Center I noticed a line of>> cars that wrapped around blocks filled with donations. These where >> ordinary>> Houstonians coming with truckloads and trunks full of water, diapers,>> clothes, blankets, food, all types of good stuff. And lots of it was NEW. >> I>> felt that warm fuzzy while helping unload these vehicles of these >> wonderful>> human beings. I then went inside the building and noticed approximately>> 100,000 sq. ft. of clothes, shoes, jackets, toys and all types of goodies>> all organized and ready for the people in need. I signed up, received a >> name>> badge and was on my merry way excited to be useful.>>>> I toured the place to get familiar with my surrounding; the entire place >> is>> probably around 2 million sq. ft. I noticed rows as far as the eye can >> see>> of mattresses, not cots, BLOW UP MATTRESSES!!! All of which had nice >> pillows>> and plenty of blankets. 2 to 3 bottles of water lay on every bed. These >> full>> size to queen size beds by the way were comfortable, I laid in one to see>> for myself. I went to look at the medical area. I couldn't believe what >> my>> eyes were seeing!!! A makeshift hospital created in 24 hours!!! It was>> unbelievable, they even had a pharmacy. I also noticed that they created>> showers, which would also have hot water. I went upstairs to the third >> floor>> to find a HUGE cafeteria created in under 24 hours! Rows of tables, >> chairs>> and food everywhere - enough to feed an army! I'm not talking about crap>> food either. They had Jason's Deli food, apples, oranges, coke, diet >> coke,>> lemonade, orange juice, cookies, all types of chips and sandwiches. All >> the>> beverages by the way was put on ice and chilled!!!! In a matter of about >> 24>> hours or less an entire mini-city was erected by volunteers for the poor>> evacuees. This was not your rundown crap shelter, it was BUM HEAVEN.>>>> So that was the layout: great food, comfy beds, clean showers, free >> medical>> help, by the way there was a library, and a theatre room I forgot to>> mention. Great stuff right????>>>> Well here is what happened on my journey ->>>> I started by handing out COLD water bottles to evacuees as they got off >> the>> bus. Many would take them and only 20% or less said thank you. Lots of >> them>> would shake their heads and ask for sodas! So this went on for about >> 20-30>> minutes until I was sick of being an unappreciated servant. I figured>> certainly these folks would appreciate some food!!! So I went upstairs to>> serve these beloved evacuees some GOOD food that I wish I could have at >> the>> moment!>>>> ***The following statements are graphic, truthful, and discuss UNRATIONAL>> behavior***>>>> Evacuees come slowly to receive this mountain of food that is worth >> serving>> to a king! I tell them that we have 2 types of great deli sandwiches to>> choose from - ham and turkey. Many look at the food in disgust and DEMAND>> burgers, pizza, and even McDonalds!!!! Jason's deli is better than>> McDonalds!!!! Only 1 out of ten people who took something would say >> "thank>> you" the rest took items as if it was their God given right to be served>> without a shred of appreciation!!! They would ask for Beer and liquor. >> They>> complained that we didn't have good enough food. They refused food and>> laughed at us. They treated us volunteers as if we where SLAVES. No not >> all>> of them of course.but 70% did!!!!!! 20% where appreciative, 10% took the>> food without any comment and the other 70% had some disgusting comment to>> say. Some had the nerve to laugh at us. And when I snapped back at them >> for>> being mean, they would curse at me!!! Needless to say I was in utter >> shock.>> They would eat their food and leave their mess on the table. some would >> pick>> up their stuff, many would leave it for the volunteers to pick up. I left>> that real quick to go down and help set up some more beds. I saw many >> young>> ladies carrying mattresses and I helped for a while. Then I realized>> something.there where hundreds of able-bodied young men who could help!! >> I>> asked a group of young evacuees in their teens and early twenties to >> help. I>> got cursed at for asking them to help!!! One said "We just lost our >> ****ing>> homes and you want us to WORK!!" The next said "Ya Cracker, you got a >> home,>> we don't" I looked at them in disbelief. Here are women walking by >> carrying>> THEIR ****ING BEDS and they can't lift a finger and help themselves!!>>>> WHY THE **** SHOULD I HELP PEOPLE WHO DON'T WANT TO HELP THEMESELVES!!!!>>>> I waved them off and turned away and was laughed at, and more "white boy>> jokes" where made at me. I felt no need to waste my breath on a bunch of>> pitiful losers. I went to a nearby restroom where I noticed a man >> shaving. I>> used the restroom, washed my hands and saw this man throw his razor >> towards>> the trash can...he missed. he walked out leaving his disgusting razor on >> the>> floor for some other "cracker" to pick up. Even the little kids where>> demanding. I saw only ONE white family and only TWO Hispanic families. >> The>> rest where blacks.sorry, 20% to 30% decent blacks. and 70% LOSERS!!!!!>>>> I would call them ******S, but the actual definition of a ****** is one >> who>> is ignorant, these people were not ignorant..they where ARROGANT >> *******S.>> The majority of which are thugs and lifetime lazy mule welfare >> recipients.>> We are inviting the lowest of the low to Houston. And like idiots, we are>> serving the people who will soon steal our cars, rape, murder, and >> destroy>> our city while stealing from our pockets on a daily basis through the>> welfare checks they take. We will fund our own destruction.>>>> By "US" I don't mean a specific race, I mean the people who work hard, >> work>> smart, have values and morals. Only people who want to help themselves>> should be helped, the others should be allowed to destroy themselves. I >> do>> not want to work hard, give the government close to half the money I earn >> so>> they can in turn give it to a bunch of losers.>>>> I don't believe in being poor for life. My family immigrated here, we >> came>> here poor, and now thank God, and due to HARD WORK we are doing fine. If>> immigrants who come here, don't know the language can work and become>> successful... WHY THE **** CAN'T THE MAJORITY OF THE HOMEGROWN DO IT!!! >> If>> we continue to reward these losers then we will soon destroy our great>> country. I just witnessed selfish, arrogant, unappreciative behavior by >> the>> very people who need help the most. Now these same people who cursed me,>> refused my city's generosity, who refuse to help themselves are DEMANDING>> handouts on their own terms!!!!!!! They prance around as if they are owed>> something, and when they do receive a handout, they say it's not good>> enough! Well you know what..these types of people can go to hell for all >> I>> care!

Okay, really long - I know. And like I said before, this is just one person's experience with the evacuees. IT IS NOT MY OPINION. I just offer it up to you as blog fodder.
But it does make you think that maybe some of them are milking this thing for all it's worth, right?

A Good One

A man was sitting in a cafeteria next to a blonde woman who was engrossed in her newspaper.
The bold headline read "12 Brazilian Soldiers Killed".
She shook her head at the sad news.
Then she turned to the man and asked, "How many is a Brazilian?"

She stinks like ass but I'll sure miss her

I'm going to the Jack Ingram concert tonight at BillyBob's. One of my old roommates from college, Catbone, is coming up with his wife. He's from my hometown and we've been hanging out together a long time.
The house that we lived in at SFA was the absolute worst place I have ever called home, The Green House.
It was an old dentist's office that had been converted into a 4-bedroom rent house. Rent for the entire place was $150 a month. It was puke green and falling apart.
It sat on about 3 acres of land which included an old rundown barn. Inside the barn was a sweet 1950's model pickup (Chevy, I think).
The appliances were all antiques but still in working order. There was a drinking fountain in the kitchen and gold shag carpet throughout the house.
The one bathroom had a hole in the floor next to the bathtub. No shower, just a tub. I loathe taking baths, by the way.
There was a possum who lived under the house. He would crawl through the hole at night and get into our garbage. That is, until he got capped in the ass.
The heater didn't work and the AC barely made a difference. We used lots of fans in the summer and propane heaters in the winter.
The greatest thing about The Green House was the hammock out front. It was suspended between a post on the porch and an old juniper tree. I'd sit outside on that hammock drinking Natural Light and watch the cars go by until sundown. Sometimes Catbone would break out his geetar and strum a few chords. We'd make up stupid songs or change the words to songs he knew.
We threw many a party at that old house. Being out in the middle of the country has it's advantages in that you can get away with pretty much anything.
There were many nights I'd pass out only to be awakened by Jim, Big A, or the Strat (more Kountze boys who lived there) firing off rounds with the shotgun.
After we all moved out, the place when to shit. Last time I stopped by some punks had gone through and broken all the windows and punched holes in the walls. I miss that old house sometimes.

Damn it feels good to see people doin' it

I took off work yesterday and there's a big heaping pile of crap to do, so this will be it for a minute.

The first bachelor party on Friday was awesome. Hummer limo was tight. Got my drink on and looked at titties all night. About half the bachelor party was fraternity brothers and the other half military guys. 3 of the grunts puked in the limo and all but one of them passed out on the way home. We're troopers, man. Fuckin' pussy asses can't hang.

Saturday I took the Saturn in for a routine replacement of the brake pads. My brakes had been squealing like litte piggies for about a week. I thought it would cost no more than 100 bucks. Wrong, Darrel.
It was 500 motherfuckin' dollars. I'm pretty sure I got raped, but had no other choice. The wheel cylinder was leaking and the calipers were shot. I had places to be and stopping the car is kind of an important part of driving, ya know.

So then the second bachelor party started. It was the more important one because it's my best friend who's getting married. We rented a big old party bus for this one. It wasn't as pimped out as a limo but just as fun. The driver was a Russian man who barely spoke the language. Drove like a bat out of hell too. We did Silver City VIP and then hit a few other ta-ta bars up. Memory gets hazy around 1 a.m. I ended up watching Sportscenter with the groom at 5 a.m. and passing a little piece of glass back and forth. Old habits and shit.

Sunday I woke up and hauled my ass to the ranch. The doves were flying in the evening and I intended to get me some. I knocked down 6 but only found 4. We need a good bird dog. A bird girl would be even better though. Then it was cold beer and pizza with some good friends and family. Good times indeed.

I decided to head home Monday morning and cut the hunt short. Everyone else was leaving and there were some pressing issues on the homefront to deal with. So I came back and took care of my business. Nuff said bout that.

I cleaned the apartment Tuesday and cooked a brisket. Lounged around watching TV and playing Tiger. Then I played a little softball with a friend of a friend and went to visit my cousin. She's butch and has lost about 50 pounds this year. All her old clothes fit me so she gave 'em up. I got tons of hand-me-downs.
I also got a letter from the Big Evil Corporation yesterday. They want me to come down for an interview. This could be big. Moving back home would be okay with me right now. Save some money and get out of debt.

I gotta get busy. Later.

Charge it to the game

Check the itinerary for this extended Labor Day Weekend:
Friday
Bachelor party #1 for fraternity brother that I haven't seen in over a year. Hummer limo. Titty bars and cold beers. I was a last second replacement.
Saturday
Spend the morning recovering from Friday night and pack for the dove hunt. Head to best friend's house around 3 for bachelor party #2. Hard buzz by 5. Get on the bus to Bonedaddy's, then the Lodge. VIP room 9-1. Try not to blow my wad (take that however you want).
Sunday
Spend arm and leg on a tank of gas. Drive 3 hours to the ranch. Hunt doves and drink cold beers with family members and friends. Cook and eat dove wraps. Possibly make a trip to the Owl's Roost to dance with the local girls and hustle some pool.
Monday
Hunt all day. Drink beer all day. Sweat all day. Fish at night.
Tuesday
Hunt in the morning and drive home in the afternoon. Recover and regroup. Get ready for super short work week (3 days).

We'll see if it really works out that way. Have a good one, yall.