Suck It Prostate Cancer. You Fiend.

Movember! or No Shave November! as the world has come to know them, are terms that describe a month celebrating the supreme glory that men can achieve on their faces. It also supports the awareness of prostate cancer in men (equally as important I would say). Now being that I work for a company that prides itself in professionalism I shan't be participating in no shave November. However due to the fact that mustaches are classy as could be, I will begin an epic journey in which I will attempt to acquire a most excellent 'stache via Movember (Movember is focused on the growing of a clean 'stache which accentuates the face but does not overwhelm it with hair). Yes I am willing to risk ridicule and criticism all for making myself look even better than usual through the ways of a 'stache. I don't know how long mine will get in a month or what it will look like, but I hope you will join me on this adventure, I will be updating my Movember profile pic every monday and friday to show how off the manliness. Don't hesitate to cheer me on!@

     

P.S. Blogging about the Rochester trip over the coming weekend when I have 2-3 hours to devote to it!

I'm in a Lot of Pain and I Only Have 2 Things

Dearest Bloggy-Poo,

     I've hit quite a dry spell in the blog department the past couple of days. Literally life has been boring as a snail being a snail. In fact it's been so bad that I was tempted to just make a blog post all about my wonderful flannels. However due to the jealousy and pure hatred this would stir in your souls, I have decided to avoid this course of action. Luckily today I witnessed two lovely things that I will now share with you.

    Returning home from work I managed to acquire a pretty nice spot on the train. How can any spot on the train be 'nice' you may wonder.. what does 'nice' really mean in the brain of TL you might also think.. or possibly you might be wondering what your next beverage will be today. I can answer all those questions simply. A 'nice' spot on the train in my brain and in real life is a seat that has been reupholstered in the past 2 months max. The seat looks brand spankin new & they've even put new foam in it so you don't sink down three feet when your bum hits it. These new seat are... how do you say... el whapo primero. Your next drink will be an orange fanta. Well anyway as the train begins to swell with passengers I merrily begin to read my book and glance up at the people boarding on occasion (to see if there is anyone I can blog about), when all of a sudden a pretty attractive chick comes and sits down next to me. Now my seat is a 2 seater so generally whoever sits next to you is awkwardly close. So I like to think that there were still a ton of seats open (aka sitting next to me wasn't a last resort) and she actually wanted to sit next to me. Essential the story boils down to me attempting to work up the courage to literally just say 1 word to her. As many of you know I have no interpersonal skills what-so-ev. I had a ton of opportunities to say something... first she started playing the game Jeweled or something on her nook guy. I watched for a little while and thought about suggesting a move to make in the game... but decided that would be too weird. Then she whipped out her phone cause her ringtone went off (she ignored the call)... I didn't know the song.. DRAT! Lastly she pulled out a crossword puzzle and started to zoom through it. I thought 'Now's my chance... I'll just find one I know and say it to her.. boom 1 word and i'll feel great about myself'. Well as you might guess I pretty much just sat there staring at her puzzle (I think she looked at me a few times funny but I was too focused on trying to get a word.. which I did pretty quickly). After figuring out what my word was I was about to say it when she filled it in on the damn board. Round 2... same thing happens.... 3, same... and when it gets to be the 4th time for this she stands up and leaves because it was her stop. Needless to say I was furious with myself and cried most of the rest of the way home.
      Tale #2: Whilst driving home I decided to pick up some dinner at Target, per my standard routine these days. I perused the aisles for a while, buying some food and beverages. Eventually I collected all my stuff and went to the register. Of course my luck has been quite divine lately so as I'm approaching to wait on a 6-8 person line a light turns on for another register and I book it over there real quick. I load up the conveyor belt with my stuff and as the lady is about to start scanning I hear a very faint 'excuse me sir'.. 'excuse me'. Now i'm thinking oh great some jackwagon is gonna make me move all my crap off the belt because he or she was in the hugeass line and waiting longer than I was. As I turn I become aware that it's actually this tiny old lady who has an entire shopping cart with her which is completely empty save for 2 small small items. She's staring up at me with tiny beady cat eyes and says 'Do you mind if I go first... i'm in a lot of pain and I only have 2 things.' Now... I was tempted to just be like, sorry lady I'm tired as could be and if I don't get home soon I will literally pass out mid-walk and crack my skull open leading to my own death.. do you want that on your conscious? Fortunately for the lady I have a soul even tho I can be pretty dastardly at times. So I said of course, you sure can it's no problem. I let her cruise through the checkout (20 minutes trying to pay with pennies), and then she said thank you thank you and began walking away. After she got a good distance away I realized she forgot her 2 items so I ran them over to her and she looked like she was going to cry. Not sure if it was out of joy for my chivalry, or pain cause of her back spasms and rickets. Either way I felt pretty good about myself... go me.

Step... or mis-step?

UPDATE: I successfully repaired the drug dealer scale and am proud to announce that it is fully operational and can weigh things in grams, ounces, dwt (penny weight aka 1/240 of a troy (aka 1/240th of Helen of Troy's weight which was approx. 120 lbs)) and ozt (which stands for oldies-teeth, aka weight in old people's teeth (for example, a typical gallon of milk weighs aprox. 1673 ozt)). These are all the typical measurements that drug dealers use, I know this because I googled it. Try it out, you'll see.

Boom! For a reference, that is a dime on the scale, it probably fits about 9 of them side by side. Now you may finally realize why I said it's a drug dealer scale... it literally is... dime bags... think about it.

Also today I witnessed something hilar but also quite upsetting at the same time. Upon disembarking from my train in the morn, I was walking to my usual #7 bus to get to work when I casual look to my right. At that exact instant in time I witness a woman wearing some ridiculously big high heels (12 inches minimum for sure) literally crumble to the ground. It was like watching a small child get pegged in the face with a dodgeball. She stepped in some kind of crack in the pavement and sort of tucked and rolled into the fall. Except instead of tucking and rolling forward so she actually did roll, she just sort of tucked and fell over without rolling. Just... tuck and BAM floor. The worst (or best) part about it was that she landed in a puddle as she hit the ground. Quite literally a tidal wave of water sprayed a bunch of other people which was also funny. Of course I was mid stride and already past her as I was watching it happen so I was safe from the tsunami of water and I also was past the realm of being required to help her up. I had instantly thought oh maybe I should go help her out except I saw a ton of other people walk over to her and I was definitely more than 3 steps away (which is the max distance you can be before being required to help someone from an accident (unless of course it's a small child about to be hit by some kind of object, an old person unawares and about to be hit by some object, or an incredibly hot (insert gender here) whom it would be a shame to see get hit by an object because the loss of their life would literally cause the world to explode)), so naturally I kept walking.

It was pretty interesting because I've never really seen anyone fall with heels on, guy or girl... (unless they were drunk of course, in which case I've seen both guys and girls do it) so I'm glad I got to witness it. Although I do feel a little bad. Hope it doesn't happen to me.. Sorry I actually am sorry Karma... but not even a little sorry for blogging.

Hmmmmm

Friends, I don't want to distract you away from the main article that you should most definitely read below, entitled: 'The Infamous Story of the Bordello Clock'. However recent events today require some attention (plus oh how I have neglected you little blog, so I'm making a renewed effort.. soon you shall flourish from a baby blog into a tweenager).

Two things happened today which never in a million years would I have expected to witness in my lifetime. One may surprise you, one may not.... or they both might... or maybe neither shall... but either way it makes for two interesting tales.

1. A coworker mentioned to me today that their friend was applying to be....... dun dun dun..... PART OF THE BORDER PATROL! Apparently there is some intense training that goes into this, physically grueling fitness tests, fluency in Spanisimo, a high quality credit rating (puhscuse? this one is bizarre), and some regular mental competency tests. I never expected to hear about anyone actually signing up for this... I mean... you just sort of assume the hillbillies down south decide to mosey on over there and set up shop for a couple days so they can shoot stuff. But apparently we have some kind of national border patrol task force, always on the watch. Props to that guy/gal whomever they may be... I guess props... honestly, please comment and tell me if you've ever heard of someone no more than two spheres of friendship (aka not more than a friend of a friend) away from you doing that.

2. This wet evening I ventured upon what I believe to be a very important artifact shoved into the rain sodden grass. It was quite muddy, but it's tiny little digital screen was all too clear to me once I picked it up. No not a cell phone (like I thought it might be.. damn coulda used one), but this was in fact a drug dealer's measuring scale. How do I know it came from a drug dealer you might be wondering... the simple answer is... it literally couldn't measure anything larger than about 4 quarters put together. Actually make that 25 DIMES. This thing is tiny ACB (as could be), like cell phone sized or even a bit smaller. For sure a drug dealers, I am 100% certain. I plan on retracing my steps in the morning and locating where I found it, perhaps I will find some crack pipes, heroin needles, and other assorted drugly things I can sell to little kids on the train for a small profit. Don't judge, gotta pay the bills any way I can in this economy. But I'm letting the scale dry out in my car for the night, i'll have an update post tomorrow hopefully with a picture to show you how drug-tastic this scale looks.

Interesting day to say the least... now please scroll down some more and continue reading the Bordello clock post and any others you may have missed since you last peaked in!

The Infamous Story of the Bordello Clock

She's a dime, that's top o' the line.

Part two will have to wait... must post this urgently before I forget it.

This one is a magical tale. First let me introduce you to a nice old lady named Mary. Mary happened to sit next to me on the train. And by 'sit next to me on the train' I mean a row back and to the right between two other older folks. Now let me paint you a picture of what Mary looks & sounds like. I'd say looks wise, she's a mesh of the really really old lady in the beginning of titanic (Gloria Stuart) and M from James Bond (Judi Dench). And she sounds pretty much exactly like Betty White.

So whilst Mary was on the train with me I was able to learn quite a bit about her (she can project her voice like there's no tomorrow... literally so loud your ear drums will explode and your brain will shatter instantly leaving you dead.. and without a tomorrow). I was actually in and out of sleep for most of the train ride and I swear to you every time I woke up she was talking.

Before I passed out the first time she was talking about trains and how they make her sick when she is facing the wrong way on them. Then she talked about what stop they needed to go to, Worcester, which she really isn't a fan of... oh and did I mention that she doesn't really like Boston either... but she has a lot of relatives in the area. She does like to look at the city from the water though, she thinks it's pretty fun and beautiful, there aren't as many people on the water which she really enjoys, but she does hate getting sea sick. It's not fun for her so she has to take medicine AT LEAST an hour before she gets on the boat. Speaking of boats her sisters and brothers (3 of each) have boats too, which they use pretty often although they're starting to get too old for them. But she thinks that they'll still be.... 

.... this is the point at which I passed out for the first time....

 I woke up again about 2 or 3 more times hearing things pretty similar to the above. She just sort of went from topic to topic with her friends just adding in OooooooOOs and AaaaAAhhhS. Now for the Infamous Story of the Bordello Clock. Let me first inform you of what a 'bordello' is. Defined by www.webster.com: "a building in which prostitutes are available" but also defined by www.urbandictionary.com as: 'A brothel or whorehouse' - example sentence: After I gave up drug-smuggling, I bought a bordello in Tangiers. Make sure you check out the definition because they have bordello mugs and t-shirts! 

Anyway, back to the story. Let me lay a little ground work just like Mary did. Her great grandparents were from Germany and lived there all their lives. Her Grandparents moved from there to Belgium for a time until they moved back to Germany. Her parents moved from Germany to Illinois before she was born. She was born in Utah in the year 1938. She lived there for a while with her family until they moved to Chicago where business was better for her Dad (sadly I never learned what line of business he was in, but I think it was some kind of farming... why Chicago? I have no idea.. closer to the consumer maybe). When Mary was just a young adult (this was 1958) her mom, her, and the rest of her family headed down to Florida for a little vacation. They met her parents parents (her grandparents) there, who boated in from Germany to have a nice big reunion (apparently the family was pretty well off). There he Grandma passed on to her family a GORGEOUS (yes she emphasized this) clock made of some kind of stone, she thinks marble (I was going to insert a picture of what it looks like in my head but sadly the blog is grumpy today). It had gold on its clock face and the numbers were outlined in gold as well. The clock apparently was crafted in the 1880's and her Grandpa somehow acquired it. A few years after her Grandma passed the clock on to them they were in one of the Carolina's (she can't remember) and her Mom took the clock to a clock maker and asked him to remove its "guts" as she called them, and to put in a battery operated system (apparently her Mom was absolutely thrilled with how great of an idea this was). But Mary, being a sprightly 26 was pretty peeved (secretly, she never told her Mom) because she thought it was an amazing heirloom... and now thanks to her Mom, most of its value was destroyed. So years later when her Mother passed it on to her she took the clock to another clock-man who gave her this entire back-story on clocks such as the one she had. Unbeknownst to her Mother, the clock had been the typical kind of clock you would find in BORDELLOS (she said her Mom would have had a heart attack if she had known). The man was confident that the clock had to be from one. This made Mary pretty upset, because she figured her Grandpa had to have known this, and maybe he frequented the bordello that used to own the clock. She was tempted to just sell it and get the idea out of her brain but she finally convinced herself that he loved his wife very much and that he must have bought it at some kind of "bordello garage sale" (her words, not mine). So Mary asked the clock-man if there was any way he could restore the clock or put in some older guts that were similar to the ones originally in the clock. The man had just the ticket! He told her he had just received some very old parts from a different clock with almost identical inner-workings as the clock she had. He was able to restore the clock and she says that now it would be almost impossible for you to tell that the original clock was ever a battery powered bordello clock. 

She says she proudly displays it right on her mantle at home, and she would take her two friends to see it as soon as she could. I of course was eager to join the gang and head out to see the clock... but dang it all... I had to get off the train, it was my stop. I heard her just starting to go into the story of how she met her first husband as I walked off into the sunset. I have to admit, I felt really close to her... I kind of miss hearing her sweet loud songbird voice on the train. Today was bratty 16 year old's talking about douchebags??? Idk it was weird. Certainly not anything as cool or badass as a bordello clock. Oh well, Mary will forever be in my heart and mind.

And as I took my final step off that train, I quietly wished Mary health, happiness, another husband, and for that bordello clock to keep ticking for many long, long years to come.

Part #2: GIRL-WAS-WACO

Part #2 IS JUST COMIN IN HOT......... tomorrow. Just had so many plans for today and this weekend, but oh they were cast asunder and shattered like my dreams of being uber famous. Instead I will leave you with a quick little game I like to play sometimes called: Goahead & Input Random Letters into Webster.com And See Words that Assortedly Come Out (GIRL-WAS-WACO). I put in: 'cluiside'. The 3 best word suggestions to come from it - #1. 'cussed' - as in, I cussed all of you out for not liking Wendy's enough to support me and assist me monetarily in my decision to purchase one and run it with my future bride-to-be Hot Wendy's Girl whom will have my future 5 kids who will also grow up to be Wendy's owners and my family ancestry from that point on will solely be remembered by relating their name to how many Wendy's they owned. #2. 'chiseled' - as in, Wow Tom it's so nice to see how chiseled your abs are looking today, I really am blessed to witness them and I must say they perfectly match your chiseled jaw line and your chiseled yet supple elbow bones. And lastly #3. 'chili sauce' - as in, WHOA Joel you best watch out cause I saw Alex secretly slip some of those sick ghost peppers into that chili sauce causing it become en fuego, meaning your mouth will literally catch fire and you'll slowly burn alive from the inside out so that your remains are just a smoldering sack of empty skin.... so once again I reiterate, be careful.

GIRL-WAS-WACO is the best.

Till tomorrow blog. ONO.

To Russia with Love

This post is dedicated to all of my Russian readers out there (apparently my fan base reaches from the US to South Africa and over to Russia). Just spreading the wealth as much as could be, especially in this economy where wealth is not always distributed in the most logical manner. 

So its been some time since my last post and do I have some juicy little stories for yall. The first involves a certain SibLid's birthday partay. It was a gathering of men so to speak. We ate, we drank, we walked, we talked, we drank more, we took/spit out pocket shots, we got recorded for a tv dating show, we drank more, we tried to dance, we drank more, did some other unmentionable things, and then passed the hell out in one great birthday evening. You heard me correctly... TV DATING SHOW. The 5 of us were asked to get recorded for some kind of on demand dating show for comcast (learn more about it here:  Dating on Demand). Naturally we had pregamed the baaahhhs so we were all feeling pretty good, and no sooner did we walk into the bar, Jose McIntyre's, and order some pitchers (which they had apparently run out of (literally ran out of pitchers, not the beer) from distributing all of them so we went on a quest across the bar to acquire empty ones from random tables) than the comcast biddies were all over us telling us we looked like we really wanted to be on a tv dating on demand show. Of course we all looked at each other and said 'Hell Yea' to doing it (except Tot, camera shy as could be?). Before we even got put on camera we had to sign some release agreements so that they could use our footage if they wanted to. On the agreement they also asked for 3 different screenames for you to make up in case they did use your video (the names would be displayed so people could contact you I guess). I didn't get to see anyone elses names but I remember 2 of mine: "Tom HujOne" and "Tom WanzLuvin". Clever as could be I know

Naturally Nick jumped at the chance first to be filmed first, he's quite the stud so anything to show off his good looks he goes for. The format was pretty straightforward, camera is pointed at you, girl sits off-camera reading you questions, you respond with the question and an answer to it. No cursing or profanity allowed. It was pretty loud at the bar so we couldn't really hear what each person was saying while they were doing it, you caught things here or there but mostly couldn't get the full responses so keep in mind that most of my quotes of other people (even my own quotes) may not be entirely accurate and you should ask whoever said it. Also keep in mind we were all feeling the effects of some prebar shots... and by shots I mean we drank straight from the bottle (badass? I think so). So Nick goes first and is answering questions and about mid way through one of his responses he literally stands up and just rips his shirt off. Just grabs it and tears it apart sort of like what Hulk Hogan would do. Of course we all think nothing of it cause it's Nick...... OK that really didn't happen but I bet you if had he thought of it, he probably would have gone for it. At one point the girl asked Nick something like 'tell us some things about yourself'. To which he responded something along the lines of, 'I like to play Lax, lift, read, and I know my way around the kitchen.. in more ways than one'. Nate went next and had some pretty funny lines (ask him about them because oh I couldn't hear his responses over the music and my memory is as poor as could be). When I got up there I was feeling pretty great.. normally I would be nervous but I had prepped a template in my head of a response for every question they could possibly ask me. I would simply repeat the question, and then somehow word it so that I would say "I mean, common, I look good". Now I gotta say, it didn't work out exactly as I had planned, but I did get to use it quite a bit if I remember correctly. At one point they asked me what I look for in a girl and I think I managed to turn it around to be 'Well I want her to laugh at everything I say, basically to be really into me, because I mean, common, I look good.' It was fantastic, and I gotta say, I really nailed the whole thing. When JBabes got up there is when things took a turn for the more interesting. He had been pretending to be flashing Nick while Nick was filming, so Nick decided it was a great idea to actually flash J while it was his turn as a little bit o revenge. He literally just whipped it out (not on camera) and J was just cracking up all over the place, it was great. 

That's most of that story.. although there is some other stuff that transpired that night, but its a secret haha! I need to do some crap now but I'll finish the second part of the post (other interesting events) by the end of the night hopefully. ONO (over n out).

Taking a Poon Tour

I haven't forgotten thee little blog. It has been a slightly hectic weekend, but successful in that the oil is now fresh in my car and I got to visit with Nate & his house mateys. Fail of the weekend: recovering all the sleep i've been lacking. I'll work on that guy at some point... eventually.. maybe.

Anywho, I surprisingly have nothing in terms of funny stories to share with you... I know....... actually I know I had some but I can't remember what they were. Okay just thought of a little one. So I was the designated breakfast bringer this past week at work (every friday someone brings in bagels to the office for everyone as a treat). Naturally since I'm a temp I knew it was a good idea to go above and beyond the call of duty so I brought in 2 dozen bagels and TWO cakes. The cakes said something like 'Happy Birthday' and 'Happy Friday' on each one respectively. It was a fellow temps Birthday so I figured I'd be a nice guy & she was having a tough week. So of course 2 things go wrong. 1. The other temp decides not to come to work (hate her) and a different coworker thinks it her day to bring in breakfast and essentially steals the thunder right out from under me. I was a little upset about it, but it worked itself out and everyone loved the cake (I forced many a people to eat it, essentially leaving pieces on their desks). So the day passed pretty uneventfully and when it was time to leave work I came to realize that I had more than 1.25 cakes left and about a dozen bagels still that I needed to bring home... except for the fact that it was a friday night and I had plans to be out and about all weekend. For the rest of that Friday night I was on the look out for homeless people so I wouldnt have to carry around that stuff for the entire weekend and I just didn't have the heart to throw it away. Never found a homeless person (yea huge shocker especially for Boston), but the food turned out to be useful for a late night snackarooni. It worked out perf... although I still have a bunch of bagels... drat.

You may be wondering what Poon Tour I'm talking about in the post title. No it's not a band called Poon's musical tour, nor is it some art gallery with a 'Poon Masterpiece' that I would be touring, and I am certainly not referring to anything inappropriate Poon-wise. It is in fact the Harpoon brewery which I will have the pleasure of touring for free on Wednesday! Very stoked for it, hopefully I'll get some good blog posts out of it!

Well, enjoy the last hours of the weekend bloggees. Over N Out.