Here it is. This was a painful experience, and I can't get the taste of cinnamon out of the back of my throat. I've decided to make this a monthly, possibly weekly feature. Let me know what you all think.



JT out.

Well, the results are in...and by results, I mean I decided which stunt I would do. I'm going to carbomb a shot of cinnamon in a PBR. I'll try to get to it tonight and have my roommate film it, so check in tomorrow.



In this one, we're going for a tough-guy-turned-domestic-life-partner type of pose. I'm not sure we pulled it off. Kyle looks surprised as hell, and I look drunk (which I wasn't...yet.)

This one is one of my favorites, although I don't have near enough strength in my arm to fire my .44 one handed without it recoiling and breaking my nose.

More realistic, slightly less badass.

And, of course, the "stunt shooting" portion of the evening. I should probably mention that the guns were not loaded during any part of this photoshoot. That would have been incredibly stupid, even for me.

We're going to have one or more of them framed and hung over the fireplace, so feel free to add your input in the comments section.

JT out.

Hey kids - one of my favorite bloggers has been nominated for a couple of blogger's choice awards.

Take some time and go vote for him.



JT out

JT out.

I know I've mentioned this before, but I feel that I must add to it. I saw the strangest driving phenomena I've ever seen today. As some of you may know from watching the news, the East Coast is in for a hell of a storm. In fact, one person has been killed and four others injured as a result of the high winds in South Carolina. Please keep in mind that I am not taking this lightly, and I feel for those who have been adversely affected by this weather system.

However, that does not give people the right to be complete idiots when driving. On my way home this afternoon from the bar where I work, people were hitting their brakes every time the wind gusted. Since the wind was gusting several times per minute, this resulted in traffic slowing to barely more than a crawl. Every time we would start to move, the wind would gust, and forty right feet hit the brake pedal, resulting in me creating new expletives and questioning if South Carolina is more filled with inbreeding than West Virginia or Kentucky, perhaps more than both combined. In truth, I think the news reports were scaring people more than the actual wind, as it wasn't really gusting all that hard. I drive a mid-sze car, and I felt completely safe...other than worrying that I was about to start killing the drivers in front of me, which could have resulted in me being made a prison bitch by someone named Tito. I'm too pretty to go to jail.

Sometimes I wish I worked at the DMV. There would be a lot fewer morons with drivers licenses if I was in charge. I would automatically fail anyone who committed one of the following offenses:

• Driving slowly in the left lane
• Driving slowly in the middle lane (if the road has three or more lanes)
• Tailgating someone who does not currently have the opportunity to move over to let you pass
• Stopping at a yellow light
• Blatantly running a red light and holding up cross traffic. You're not more important than me, jackass.
• Blocking an intersection because you failed to notice that traffic ahead was stopped and there was no way you would get through before the other light turned green.
• Driving a yellow car
• Driving any type of incredibly fancy four-wheel-drive vehicle that you will never, never, ever take off roads or into the woods. Buy a car, asshole. If you need to carry lots of kids around, may I suggest a minivan or station wagon?

Whew. I feel much better now. Thanks for listening to me rant, folks. Hope everyone enjoyed their weekend! If you have any additional traffic offenses that get to you, add them in the comments section.

JT out.

Here's a pic of the new house, I'll post more later. The internet just got turned on yesterday.

I normally try to keep my posts in chronological order. I’m a bit discombobulated recently, so bear with me as my posts take on the rambling timeline of someone with a severe case of dementia. Due to moving, working 2 jobs, and my internet not being up at the house yet, I’m writing when I have the time and not putting as much planning and forethought into it as usual. Okay, even I laughed out loud at that one. Planning and forethought? Those are my middle names. Along with “Moderation,” “Pious,” and “Susan.” *

Without further delay, the main point of my post. I was in 5 Points here in Columbia for the annual St. Patrick’s Day festival, and Kyle and I were up to our usual antics: reading to blind orphans and serving hot meals to homeless amputees. Or we may have been consuming mass quantities of green beer, I can’t quite remember. No, wait, we were definitely drinking, because we invented the greatest drinking game of all time: Monopoly. In all actuality, we invented “Green light, bitch.” You see, in 5 Points, they close off several city blocks, but the traffic lights are still running. The game is simple, guaranteed to get you drunk, and not recommended to be played while driving. When you see a light turn green, you drink. When the light turns yellow, you drink until it turns red. The first one to yell “Red light!” gets to make someone else drink.

After several hours and countless beers, I wandered over to see Villanova play. Imagine my surprise when I look to my left and see an ex-girlfriend from 8 years ago, way back before I was with my ex-wife. She didn’t recognize me at first, in large part due to the fact that I was wearing a driving hat, aviators, and my beard had been shaved into a chin strap, bleached, and dyed green (I’ll post pictures later, Scout’s honor**.) We decided (and by “we,” I mean “she”) that I should take her out to dinner to catch up. We stopped a few places that were either too crowded or not serving food, so we went back to my house and I cooked us dinner. We enjoyed each others company so much that we wound up spending the next day together as well, and the next, and the next, and, well, I assume you can see where this is going. The “new” girlfriend is actually an “old” girlfriend, although not “older,” as she is younger than I am. How was that for a poorly worded, slightly confusing sentence?

It’s odd, really, because while it has the new car scent that all brand new relationships do, it’s also incredibly comfortable since we have so much history between us. The best part? She loves PBR almost as much as I do.

I don’t know what magnanimous deed I performed to cause this massive karmic shift in my favor, but I’m a lucky guy.

JT out.

*My actual middle name is “Delicious.”

**I never made it past the first two badges in Cub Scouts, so take that with a grain of salt.

I know I’ve been slack, but I’ve moved into the new house and don’t have the internet turned on yet, and I hesitate to spend too much time writing posts at work. However, I’ve decided that I have to update, so here goes nothing. We’ll start with a post about the new house, I’ll try to get to the new girlfriend and the new second job soon.

Kyle and I finally closed on the house and started moving in on March 26^th. Yes, we started moving on a Monday. Imagine our surprise when, upon unlocking the front door, we found the house filthy (and keep in mind that we’re two young single guys, so our housekeeping skills are minimum at best. The house was filthy.) In addition, the yard is a wreck, and there are random pieces of furniture left in the house.

However, with a little bit of elbow grease, and a hefty dose of degreaser to clean up the elbow grease, I think we can make this house a home. A home where we can settle down and start living the American Dream (not Dusty Rhodes, the other one…you know, with 1.5 kids, a minivan, and PTA meetings.) Yes, Kyle and I are now cohabitating as domestic life partners.

Actually, we’re just roommates. Roommates on a mission to save the world from the Ultimate Evil. I’m getting carried away again. It’s probably from a lack of sleep. The point is, pretty soon this house is going to be looking a lot better. The kitchen, after several afternoons’ worth of work, is actually sanitary enough to cook and eat in. I think the next area we’ll tackle is the living room/game room area. That’s right – game room. We decided that two single guys don’t need a dining room, especially since there is room for a decent sized table in the kitchen, so we’re making it into a game room, complete with dry bar, beer pong table, beer fridge, and scantily clad lingerie models. I’m also lobbying for a fog machine.

My bedroom will be the biggest challenge. It’s highly unorganized at the moment, because my clean and dirty laundry got mixed up during the move, meaning I have to rewash everything I own, plus my box springs collapsed on me after the move. Actually, I suppose the proper preposition would be below. They collapsed below me. While I wish I could claim that this was due to some crazy monkey sex on my part, I believe that age was at least 25% of the problem, since I’ve had the same box springs since my sophomore year of college in 1998, and they have endured at least 7 moves since then. A faulty bed frame probably contributed another 25% of the problem, since they weren’t getting adequate support in the middle, which means that crazy monkey sex* was only half of the equation. Once the laundry is done and my bed is restored to more than just a mattress on the floor, I’ll feel much better. Especially considering Kyle’s room is well organized, complete with a functioning bed frame and box springs, while mine looks like a crack addict has established squatter’s rights there.

More to come on the new house, complete with full-color photography, and a short documentary narrated by none other than Tom Selleck**

Sorry it’s been so long, leave me comments to let me know you’re all still around.

JT out.

Oh yeah - and be sure to check out an interview with one of my favorite bloggers, the CDP. Good stuff.

*Let’s see what types of hits I get after mentioning crazy monkey sex this many times, shall we? Crazy monkey sex.

**Blatant lie.