Just got back from finishing a few contracts in Asia and Polynesia. I’m enjoying the travel and work, but the toll on my family is tangible. I’ve got ankle biters and they need their Dad around. Cats in the cradle, I suppose. My hope is to be financially independant before they turn ten.
After that, who gives a shit. I think I’ll plow snow in the winter and volunteer as ski patrol to get my free season pass. Maybe in the warm months I’ll run a bait/coffee shop for rednecks like myself that like to fish and drink good coffee while their at it.
I still browse a hand full of blogs when I can – Lobo, Catfish, Peapatch, Vinny, Chet, Mad Mikey, Girl, The Queen, Jeff from ALMTTR, and a few others when I can dig further.
I’m enjoying a crown and coke at the moment and often wish I could host a blogfest where we could all get together. I made one in Georgia with the crackers and had a blast. I hope to make it again in a year or two. This time I’m bringing some redbull and vodka to try and keep them awake past dusk.
I missed summer reunion with my college buddies…again. Usually when I miss it they call my home and leave, literally, over a hundred plus messages on my answering machine. Not this year. I have a new phone number and the retards weren’t sharp enough to track it down.
I converted my garage into a hangout. All the memorabilia is up on the wall. XBOX 360. Futon. Stereo. Beer fridge. Bar. Liquor cabinet. CPU. Big Screen. Work bench. Tool chest. Aquarium. Stuffed Marlin. And so on. It’s my “happy place”.
I have a few new additions for it. I apologize for the links, but I haven’t figured out this new host of ours yet. I found this sign and fell in love. I liked it so much I bought Geoff one too.
I also ran across a great product at a festival this weekend called a “Sky Chair.” Ultimate chair for the porch, camping or the “garage”.
On my spare time I like to take my boys fishing. We tried a new pond and as we pulled in I saw a guy and his son both latch onto foot long fish and dump them in their bucket. The kids were excited so as soon as we parked they made a bee line to investigate the bucket. I followed them over and talked to the Dad to see what he was using for bait. Spinner and worm. Cool, that’s simple.
Asked him what he was catching and he cockily quipped, brown trout, as though I’m an idiot for asking. Sweet, I thought, ignoring his attitude. They may be stocked but I’d rather see my boys catch trout than crappie or bass anyday.
I peeked in the bucket at his catch and realized the “expert” was really a freakin’ moron. He had a bucket full of smallmouth bass. I decided to say nothing and hoped he enjoyed the “brown trout” filets. Who the hell confuses trout with bass anyhow?
Apparently, a lot of people. The next fisherman I ran into proudly displayed his prize catch to me. Another pound or so bass they claimed was a trout. WTF? I guess meth IS an issue in our community after all.
Other than that, I’ve got little to report. I still drive a forty year old pick-up, think liberals are morons, and all Islamic Fascists should swing from trees.
Peace out Peeps!