Archive for Friends

She could be famous

H.E.S. is sad that I made fun of her hairy legs. I wasn’t make fun, just merely admiring their likeness to Chewbacca’s.

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Wake me up


The suitcases under my eyes are testaments to the fact that I stayed up too late last night. I didn’t mean to, it just happens. Seems that most nights are like that. I had a hard time getting up today. I actually woke up before my alarm but just laid there wishing I could fall back into dreamland. I got up and went to the living room for some morning calisthenics to wake me up. After some stretching, situps and leg raises I flopped on the couch like a lazy bum. I just wasn’t into it. My body didn’t feel like moving and my head was thick. I felt sleep quickly taking over me until I forced myself to get up and get ready to avoid being late for work.

I walked back to my room to grab my towel and clean boxers before I headed to the shower. It took me only 7.6 seconds to retrieve my things so you can imagine my surprise when I came back to the living room and there was a figure standing in the entryway. My eyes snapped open, pupils dilated, fists clenched and my skin burning hot, ready to head-butt, tackle, elbow, knee (basically Krav Maga the hell out of the intruder) or whatever it would take to protect myself. Fortunately before I took flight towards this evil doer my eyes communicated with my brain that this threat was actually my house mate and I should not attack her with great fury.

Me: “OH! You scared the crap out of me!”

House Mate: “Sorry I had to come home and get a camera.”

Me: “Man, I just about attacked you…my skin is still buzzin!”

Now fully awake after jumping out of my skin I relaxed in the hot shower. The morning jolt reminded me of another intruder incident years earlier.

I had just graduated college and was still living near campus in my ghetto apartment. It was a magical time when I had no money and ramen was on the daily menu. I landed a temporary job (one that lasted 2 years) doing inventory for a professional inventory company. Since most stores like you to do the countin’ when they’re closed, the hours were either really early or really late. Lack of a sleep was a common theme as were midday naps.

One morning at 4 am I was particularly groggy as I stumbled down the stairs towards the kitchen. Clearing the sleep from my eyes I rounded the bottom of the stairs and was shocked to be face-to-face with a shadow in the night. In a flash of ferocity my feet dug into the carpet as I flung myself towards this detestable demon in my house. Sailing through the air I cocked my arm back like Mike Tyson (young Tyson, before the drugs and the weird face tattoo) winding up for a knockout punch. With adrenaline coursing through every cell in my body I gritted my teeth as I seethed in anticipation of impact. A millisecond before total devastation the hazy figure turned around and between the heartbeats in my eardrums I heard a faint “oooooohhhh Mic…..”

My brain instantly recognized the voice as my eccentric Japanese roommate, but my body was already en route to destroy him. I de-cocked my arm, tried to put the brakes on and avoid him, but I still managed to bash into him in the dark hallway.

Me: “bleepity bleep Yoshi! You scared the bleep outta me!”

Yoshi: “oooooh…Sorry.”

And that’s all he could say. He tromped back upstairs to his warm bed completely unaware that he was just about torn apart from limb to limb. It took a moment for me to calm down and stop shaking from having my heart rev up from 65 to 200 in the early morning hours.

 To this day I have no idea what he was doing in the hallway at 4am. He was by the toilet so maybe he was flushing one of his famous book reports down. Who knows, but he was very effective in waking me up, much like today. I’m glad my fists have never connected with an innocent roommate, but if people keep sneaking up on a half asleep Micah, someone is going to get hurt!

 

 

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Bringing out the kid in me


You may find this hard to believe but I like to have fun. Not the kind of fun that involves sweaty presidents, hookers and blow, but more along the lines of good ol’ fashioned wholesome fun.  Sure I’ve always liked to laugh when people fall on the escalator or when a kid bangs his head on the playground turtle shell, but as it turns out that kid inside of me has never quite grown up. I still get a kick out of playing with toys. Not necessarily HE-Man and TMNT Action Figures but more along the lines of little cars that go fast and aeroplanes that go NEEEEAAARRRR…. (y’know, the sound a plane makes).

A couple of years ago I bought my first plane. Dave and I decided on the same model as it was good for beginners, plus it had the ability to install the ‘Sonic Combat Module’ which is a small device that emits sound waves that ‘shoot’ down your friend’s plane. The thought of dave’s plane tumbling out of the sky at my hands made me giddy with glee. Unfortunately I never got the chance to shoot Dave down since he crashed plenty on his own. It’s not entirely his fault as our planes were cheap and good entry level ones, but when flying it felt more like trying to steer the titanic than fly an airplane. By the end of the summer my plane was mostly destroyed, not so much by crashes but by a heavy banjo case with a vendetta.

I always wanted to get back into the hobby , but working in Real Estate tends to suck up every nice weekend and I just felt like I had no time. Every time the warm, sunny season came around I’d always feel the urge to go buy a plane and try to fly it, but never did. A couple of weeks ago I was talking with HES and she said she’s always wanted to try and fly an R/C plane, I couldn’t believe my ear! Turns out that was the spark I needed to restart my flying desire. I did my research, found the best deal and the best beginner plane and within a week was the proud new owner of a Hobbyzone Super Cub.

After waiting a couple of days for the weather to clear up I couldn’t wait to get my new bird in the air. Unfortunately I quickly learned that just because the sky is clear doesn’t mean you should fly. It was way too windy for my maiden voyage and my plane was all over the place. Add on inexperience, first flight nerves and Dave yelling in my ear “it’s flying it’s flying!!!” it made for one hell of a ride. I had a couple of hard landings, but didn’t break anything, only bent the landing gear. I went out the next day and again it was really too windy to be flying. My plane was all over the place and I was getting flustered when suddenly the weather gods smiled upon me and there was a stretch of peaceful calmness. Even with the serene air my plane was still all over the place! It was then I realized that the problem wasn’t so much the wind, but the problem was me, I was over controlling the plane, sending it into dives, stalls and horrible situations. Once the weather chilled out so did I and almost instantly I got the hang of it!

Once I was in the zone, understood the limits of my plane and that I could take off and land with the greatest of ease all I wanted to do was fly. And fly I did. A couple Saturdays ago I met up with Dave at the local High School to do some flying. He still had his barely air worthy frankenplane from years past and he thought it would be fun to try and fly. I launched my plane in the air and it circled high above our heads. As I was flying, two other R/C’ers showed up and craned their necks skyward. Things were going along beautifully until I quickly realized something was wrong when HES said “you’re dying”. My plane was losing altitude and I could see that the prop had stopped spinning. The battery had died and I was concentrating so hard on gliding it into a soft landing that I completely failed to see the huge football upright my plane was headed towards. I snapped to my senses just as my wing smashed into the tall metal pole. The plane tumbled down and all I heard was “OUCH!” “WHOOOPS” and “….ohhh Micah…..” from the gathered crowd. The crash took a chunk out of my wing but other than that nothing was broken! Fortunately one of the other flyers had some awesome super glue that he let me use. Jake showed up right after I crashed and was sad because that’s the only thing he came to see. Luckily he didn’t have to wait long as Dave stepped up to fly his plane. Like a seasoned pro Dave picked up his plane, did his pre-flight check and proceeded to hand launch his plane into the football upright directly in front of him. His bird came tumbling down in a bright orange flash and smashed into pieces on the ground. Once again the gasps came from the crowd but on the corner of my eye I could see Jake was elated.

Dave did a doozy on his plane and was done for the day. I was holding the pieces of my wing together waiting for the glue to set when another RC’er came to join us, we’ll call him Ted. Turns out Ted hadn’t flown in a year and the last time he did he completely destroyed his plane and had just finished getting it all back together. After much talk Ted finally decided to take it up in the air. He took off and flew fairly well but was a total nervous Nathan as he flew. It didn’t take long before he brought the plane in explaining that it was ‘too windy’ (it wasn’t). Ted talked a bunch more until I was finally ready to take to the skies again. I was nervous to see if my plane would fly again and thankfully she took right off, piercing the air above. Everything worked great and I ran the battery down, but not enough to crash again. Ted was amazed at how quickly my plane could take off and wanted to see if his could do the same. Jake ‘encouraged’ him to try it and sure enough he took off almost straight up until he got too nervous to fly and quickly brought the plane down.

We were done flying but Ted kept talking to me and showing me his fancy-shmancy controller. His plane was resting peacefully by our feet like a dog in front of a fire. Ted was explaining how the controller has a ‘safety mode’ so if anything goes wrong you simply ‘flip a switch’ and it will put the plane in a nice gentle turn. Ted turned to me and said “like this!”. With firm confidence he flipped the switch and immediately the plane came to life with full throttle barreling down the track. His face turned white as his plane continued speeding away from him. We were standing on the edge of a track and field, and as you probably know track and fields are fairly open with no obstacles around, except for the tool shed… which his plane was headed directly for. It happened so fast our eyes saw it in slow motion, the plane, the shed, his pale face, Jake’s face spreading into a huge grin……and then with about a foot until impact the plane stopped and nosed over in the grass. There was a collective sigh and nervous laughter after the almost incident. I think Jake was a little disappointed that he didn’t get to see another crash, but honestly it was one of the funniest things I’ve seen in awhile.

Even though Ted left with his plane in one piece I think he should hang it up for a while longer or find a new hobby. One thing I’ve quickly learned about flying silly little planes is that you can’t have nervous, twitchy thumbs. I think the majority of people I’ve met are fairly cool but there have been a few that were so nervous about flying they didn’t even look like they were having fun! If you’re not having fun, what’s the point?!

Although I still think that everyone should try it. It’s so freakin’ fun and exciting. It’s like being a kid all over again, except I didn’t get to do any of this as a kid! Nothing gets people talking to you like flying planes. Every time I go out people come up to me and want to look, touch and talk about the plane, especially kids and women. Kids because they’re curious and women because….well let’s face it, I make a damn fine pilot. I’ve had my plane for 2 weeks and have flown about 32 times which I admit is a little crazy! That’s about triple the amount of fly time as my first plane and there are no signs of slowing up, especially as the weather gets nicer and nicer you will find me out at the local school splitting the goalposts, divebombing the kids and circling the skies.  I just hope Dave gets an air worthy plane soon so I can have good stories, either that or maybe I’ll go look for Ted.


 

 

End note, Happy Birthday Jake! Sorry you can’t see me fly and possibly crash as I know that’s the thing that would make your b-day bright.

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Rhymes about gettin’ some….

During a lively email discussion between a couple of friends this morning we got to talking about my one friend’s lack of a girlfriend. We were trying to help the good fellow out with advice on gettin’ the ladies, but suddenly the conversation turned into rhymes about his dating woes.
Please to enjoy. Pipe in with your own!!!

#1
when he should be tomcattin’
he’s lollygaggin’
that’s our Bill
who has never had his fill.
#2
a man without a plan
for getting a WO-man
he needs to step it up at least
if he expects to get a piece

#3
His penis wouldn’t be lonely
If he found a woman that’s homely
And humps like a dream
While he’s eating his iced cream

#4
But if he gave her a break
and bought her a steak
she’d leave him alone
just him and his bone
#5
Ahh..but if he took a chance
And gave her some romance
He might find some luck
When she says “Fancy a F*ck?”

#6 (Bill’s Response)
Archie is smart
Micah likes to fart
f*ck you guys!

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Spreading his ‘deeds’

It looks like somebody, I’m not going to say who, but his name rhymes with ‘pill’ has been out on the prowl in Oklahoma City.

Take a look here.

Actually the real reason for posting this story is all for the last line, if you didn’t read the article I’ll post the sentence here:

People with the disease may not know they have it, because the primary symptom is a painless sore.

Isn’t that an oxymoron? I thought the definition of a ’sore’ was something that causes pain, hence the clever name ’sore’? That would be sucky to have sores you can’t feel! I’d probably think they were just red moles. That’s like saying I have smooth dry skin, or white diarrhea, have a hairy bald spot or drive a Dodge Ram and know an attractive Irishman. They just don’t go together!

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Top 10 Collapsed Gmail conversations


Sitting in my room last night I found myself slipping into a 100 yard gaze deep into my computer screen. I was worn out and tired from work and after work festivities. I was trying to muster up enough motivation to do something productive but instead I found myself reading the one-line previews of my top Gmail conversations. If you don’t have Gmail you won’t understand how it works, but after reading a few I laughed at how varied and random these conversation snapshots seemed between friends.

Here are my Top Ten at the moment, each line is from the start of a different email. Post yours in the comments!

Lots of nerve everywhere! My rice is almost done. So I guess mark me down for…

No Touching!

Haha we have irish dancers and I can’t stop laughing I just keep picturing kath and kel..

Mine is about the size of a baby’s arm.

Party for Phil! She missed her chance, now I’m gonna start AD with kelli. After I finish the..

yes come on down.

true kelli. I’m not sure but either way it’s full of pussies.

Sweet. TF2 is pretty cheap. Everyone bring your own wires. I probably have enough, but bettyer..

Feets are sexy. Except for Micah’s. He has frinkly toes: Just kidding Micah.

there is? Oh crap.

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Phil will not let me Testify

I don’t know why he won’t. He says to me ‘come over and we will have fun!’ so I do. But everytime I do he squelches my fun. He recently moved back into his condo, set up his 100″ projected TV screen, hooked up his xbox and said “let’s play rockband”. On a cold Wednesday night I headed out with the boys and descended upon Phil’s tiny condo. When we arrived we learned of the new rules set out by Phil and his cat Archie.

Rule #1
No having fun

Rule #2
We play 2 or 3 songs on each instrument before switching

Rule #3
Everyone sings. Yes that includes you. He doesn’t care if you can’t sing, you sing.

Rule #4 (this is the new one)
No singing ‘Testify’ by Rage Against the Machine.

I am writing this post to say I would like Rule #4 abolished. All week long I wear a suit and sit at my desk at work while I am quietly raging against the machine. So you can imagine my disappointment when I don’t get the chance to pump my fist, move my hips and march around to Tom Morelo’s (guitar player for RATM) tasty grooves during a rockband night at Phil’s. This simply has to stop. First RATM and then what’s next? El Scorcho by Weezer? There have been talks of banning that song as well and to that I say ‘Goshdarn you half-Japanese Phils’ (edited for my sister’s eyes).

This guy right here needs to Testify, it doesn’t matter if I sing that song every time I play rockband. I should be allowed. I will also say I am the guy that tries all the songs that are way out of my range so Phil can play harder drums, for that I want to Testify. It’s only fair. At least I am not like Dave who was raised on oatmeal and soundtracks and amazingly knows only 2 or 3 of the 230 songs one can choose from in the game. Nothing slows down a night of rockband like Dave stepping up to sing.

Anyways if you would like to get a chance to Testify, your opportunity is fast approaching. NEXT Saturday (31st) Phil is having a rockband party at his condo on his 100″ screen. There will be horrible singing, people looking like retards on the drums and in general a happy good time. Stop by, drink a beer and sing a few songs with us, who knows we might even get to Testify.

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Alright, alright. I get it, I have big nipples.

Well not so much big as ‘pointy’, it’s not like they’re pink puffy pancake nipples or anything like that. In many ways I believe they are about average as men’s nipples go, the problem is they respond very well to cold temperatures and touching. I usually don’t have too many people touching them except Tony, but he lives in Molalla so my nipples have received a welcome break. But as some may have noticed the weather has been a bit on the chilly side lately and my dueling thermometers seem to make an appearance every time I take my coat off.

I got to kickboxing tonight and the building was freezing. The heat had been off all day and to make matters worse I had left my workout bag in my trunk so I quickly shivered my clothes on and off in the dressing room before class. I looked down and my legs were doing that weird blotchy-red-cob-webby thing they do when they’re really cold. Anyone know what I’m talking about? My arms and nipples never get like that but when I’m really cold my legs get weird looking and I hate it. So I yelled at them “Stop doing that!” “Stop doing what?” was the response from the next dressing room over. “Oh, um not you, my legs….I was yelling at my legs” I said sheepishly.

I gathered my things and headed upstairs to the gym. Melissa was warming up as I walked over to chat her up. We talked about our days and the meaning of life when I began complaining about the dri-fit shirt I was wearing and how it sticks to my torso showing every bump, blurb and blob.

Melissa:”Oh Please Micah, you have a great body, (looking down) but what’s up with your nipples?!”

Me: “What do you mean? I can’t control them and it’s COLD in here!”

M:”Well I’m just sayin’….dayyuuummmmn.”

Me: “It’s this Dri-Fit shirt! It’s thin and it rubs them, and why does everyone always notice my nipples?”

M: “Everyone notices your nipples? I’m sorry, are you sensitive about it?”

Me: “All my friends seem to notice and some like to grab onto them, I’m not sensitive until everyone starts pointing them out!”

LET’S DO SOME LAPS!!

Our conversation was broken by the instructor’s yelling and as I ran I watched my pointy friends bounce in the mirror. ‘They’re not that bad’ I thought to myself as we re-grouped in the center of the room to do some calisthenics. While doing some arm swings and rotations the instructor turned to me and says “Is it cold in here Micah?!” The whole class turns to look at me as if I am some deformed person and I shot a look to Melissa who was covering her snarking laugh with her hand. F’ing great. “I get it, my nipples are very pointy!” I yelled out and the teacher said, “I’m just sayin…..must be cold.”

Beautiful.

I’m throwing that dri-fit shirt away. Nipple erections are completely involuntary movements and I can’t calm them down by thinking of brown filing cabinets or taking a cold shower like I do with the other kind. In fact cold showers are the worst remedy when my nips are pointing straight out like two six-shooters in the hands of Billy the Kid. I don’t really know what the draw is to them, they’re not like George Washington’s nipples. As the first president of our country I imagine he has some fairly impressive nipples, not sure what history says, but I imagine them as amazing. I guess I’ll live with them, or maybe I’ll see if they make pasties in the shape of little guitars or muscle cars. That would be awesome until one falls off and then my left nip points out like the tailight of a ‘59 Cadillac and my right side remains as smooth as a spoon. If that happened, the jig would be up and I would definitely look like a deformed person. Too much trouble. I just hope the warm weather returns soon, in the meantime I’m gonna start charging for stares longer than 5 seconds. By the end of the cold season I should have enough for a nipplectomy.

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Sweet Red Wraps

After making an offsides remark to M at kickboxing I told her she had nice hand wraps. She said she’d like to have me write something about them, I accepted her challenge and this is what came out.
_______________________________________________________
Slowly the faded fabric touches her skin. My eyes widen as she starts at her thumb, goes down her wrist, across her hand and over her knuckles. The excess strip lazily hangs from her arm, gathering like tangled spaghetti on the dirty floor. Quickly she picks up speed, and in a hurry she tightly twists the red strap over and over until the final edge securely clings to the soft velcro beneath her wrist. She grins and triumphantly raises her fully mummified fist for all to see. Indeed it is a wondrous sight to behold, such precision and care even an Egyptian would be proud. Gentle hands of healing transformed into violent tools of destruction before my very eyes. For nearly an hour crimson flurries slice through the air as she mercilessly pounds and pummels the helpless bag with the aggression of a thousand donkeys. Finally she is finished and the red wraps lay peacefully in the corner. Wet and wrinkled she scoops them up and rolls them tightly, tossing them into her bag for another day of destruction.

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Phil in a nutshell, part two

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