North to Nebraska
Why do I even fly anymore? Going to Nebraska was pretty much like having your short and curlies plucked out by a rabid badge; It’s painful and no one gets any bit of satisfaction out of the process. The flight over there felt like I had spent five hours on the teacup ride at Disneyland. Evidently “Isabel” was totally horking all of the wind patterns in North America…yay me! That brings me to Minneapolis, where I had my layover. This is the worst airport that I have ever been to. They land on one side of the airport and then make you go through some torturous death march for miles before you can make it to the next point of departure. Of course this next point of departure happen to entail me entering a small airplane with propellers! Propellers! I didn’t think they allowed planes to exist with propellers. It was like watching human devolution. Of course it fit about 20 people and the people in this part of the world were not small and constantly talk about football. They have this glazed look in there eyes as they explain the ability of one team to crush another, it’s pretty much religious to these people. This loud and insanely boring ride dropped me into the 2 terminal airport at Lincoln, which from above looked like 3 lights. There I met JJ who drove me over to meet my boy Jay. Of course Jay knew I was coming (JJ isn’t that good at lying and spilled the beans weeks before) but feigned surprise until I slapped him and told him that I knew he knew. The first night I was awakened by these two cats that refused not to fight through the night and this wind chime that I imagine is supposed to be relaxing but kept me hoping that someone would chop off my head. I went outside with no shirt to take off the chimes. Half asleep I succeeded, but the cold almost caused me to fall into a coma ala Jack Nicholson at the end of the shining. Lincoln is really cold, really green, and really corn infested. For a city that was about 100,000 it seemed as though only a fourth of that lived there. It was really quiet too. Too quiet. We started out our first day running errands (Jay has totally become this “man of the house” guy and has to do errands for his girlfriend-hah!). We watched some movies, played some backgammon, went and ate some amazing food at a local restaurant and then played some more backgammon. Then we went to the Massage parlor. I’ve never been to one. I always thought it a little girly. But Jay assured me it was a good time, so off we went. As he and I sat in the waiting room a beautiful young lady came up and looked at me and said “Jay bowman”, at which point Jay jumped up “no that’s me”, that’s when I noticed the windows shake and the blocking out of the sun. My massager was the big woman who moved through the parlor with the ease of a two legged elephant. Jay merely turned to me and smiled. I know what he was thinking though “ha ha ha”. I went to the back of this place and got undressed, of course this was after I had asked her what I’m supposed to do and she looked at me quizzically and said “dress down to your comfortable level”. My comfortable level is to add more clothes not take them off. But I jumped out of it all, down to the boxers jumping on to this board with my face pressed down into a cushioned donut. The sitar music playing and the sounds of birds chirping, Ursa decided to churn my flesh into jello, using an amazing array of techniques that I can only imagine were given to her by some sifu in the mountains of Tibet. 30 minutes went by excruciatingly slow, but it was a nice experience. I kept waiting for the “hey a couple extra bucks and I’ll give you something special” but thank goodness that didn’t happen. With Jay laughing we left and then felt immediately sick for the next 3 hours. Evidently massaging can do that to a person…which to me means “don’t get massages”. Next day I waded through my second game of golf ever. Scaring a high school team of girls with my array of “trick shots’ that bounced off many a tree. More backgammon…the movie Underworld, more food. Next day the batting cages. Me being a athletic retard, this proved to be no fun and just impressed upon me the need of some type of exercise that might improve my hand eye coordination when I get back to La la land. More backgammon, more movies, then we entertained some of Jay’s and Jj’s friends. A couple…Jeremy’s the third wheel again…joy. But I found my feet after an hour or so and then the unbelievable tales begin to spill forth from my mouth punctuated by Jay saying “ I can vouch for him, he is telling the truth”. It’s always bad when whatever you say sounds like a lie, like “that couldn’t have reaaaallly happened”, “That guys a perpetual liar” and your friends know it so add to the fire by bringing it to the forefront “I swear he’s not lying” much good that does. Super Walmart…twice! Did it twice, and that’s enough. Like JJ says, waaaay too much overstimulation there along with painted on smiles and the old people offering carts and hello and I’m sure are close to kicking the bucket. “Hello welcome to Wal….ack!” So then the next day we looked at houses that Jay wanted to buy, or was thinking about. It’s strange. The rest of the world does “real” things. Worried about the “real” world, and that made me kinda sad for me, but then I just wished for the plane to bring me back to never never land where no one grows old, and everything is plastic. I would have hoped that the flight back would have been better but it wasn’t. The Lincoln Nebraska security team has tighter security then JLo’s chances at a long term relationship. I was asked for my boarding pass 3 times, told to take off my shoes by someone that could have been the ideological twin of Barney Fife. Asked to pull of my belt and take down part of my pants. They searched my carry on, taking away from me nose hair clippers (so it’s not my fault that my nose now bears a startling resemblance to members from ZZ top) and I was finally on the plane to the awful airport at Minneapolis. After several hours there …walking. I got on the plane to LAX, where when I arrived I had to run to catch my buddy who was being told to move by a police officer. Quite the trip, I’m tired. I hope everyone is well
Getting ready for Ahnuld
Court Mess
Open Mindedness
I'm trying to learn html, and I'm afraid that it does not fair well.
Friendster
Hugh Hewitt
Aint it Cool
Enter the Strong Bad
Get Your News On
"It's better to be dead and cool, then alive and uncool"
