For the next THREE WEEKS!

(In this edition of Sex Panther, I've filled the blog with easter eggs! Let's read more..)

No, nobody expects me to build a house in that amount of time. Although, Ted once commanded that I finish building his mom's new house in two weeks. Crap. I digress.

The extra special "treat-reward" that I'll be ever-so-enthusiastically gnawing on for a near month will be a hearty round of midnight shifts! So, while you're out tilling the fields, tending to the harvest or milking Ol' Bessy - I'll be fast asleep - probably doubled over a piping hot keyboard, in a failed attempt to bring you fine denizens of the digital computerweb some new(ish) content.

Now, while this may cause the tides themselves to wane into a deep, month-long recession, I expect no long-term ill effects. That is, unless you overlook the lack of sleep I'll likely have to endure in the coming weeks. Truth be told, it'll probably not be as bad as I'm making it out to be. Sure, nobody wants to work this crap shift but the consistency of working a steady shift (for once) does make it a bit easier to bear. I just wish there was somebody else there to talk to whilst I toil away at the help desk.

God, I can't wait to finally get a replacement camera. Hopefully sometime after Ted's wedding we'll all magically be richer. Boy, that'd be nice. I feel SUYM stagnating beneath my inability to actually go out and buy a decent camera. Damn my impatience. I know another one is coming soon, but I'm so chock full of ideas at the moment (not to mention my free time comes at a premium anymore). I've got two SUYM firsts brewing in my mind-mellon (both are songs) that can be produced this very summer had we the camera to film it. Damn my impatience, yet again. Maybe I'm wrong, but I feel like I'm just not doing my part if I can't produce some kind of material on a regular basis. What the hell good is SUYM if there's no new content? I remember when this place used to be a literal hub of entertainment for southwestern Pennsylvania. I'd like nothing more to return SUYM to that echelon.

I've got my share of little side-projects to occupy my time until then. I'm developing new pages for SUYM, which is going very well, but still only inspires me so much. I can only do so much with digital text and images. A good portion of this relies heavily on Rollo, who has admirably been working his ass off lately. Back to square one. Content will come...eventually...

Oh! I went to the Poison concert last Wednesday. Consol gave away premium box tickets which my buddy won, but ultimately gave to me. Reese and I sat in the box for a few songs, but rejoined our crew on the lawn to party hard. Reese got most of the pics from the concert, so you'll have to peep the pics her myspace or facebook, if you're lucky enough to know her.

Speaking of the concert, my girlfriend and Necciai are assholes (haha). They like to stand out of sunroofs / lean out of car windows with beers in their hands - while the car is still moving. The coppers stopped us, requested ID, asked if we were smoking weed (to which I replied with a hearty "I WISH!!") and released us from custody. Both Rollo and I (drivers of cars) dodged a bullet for the umpteenth time.

Rounding out the blog, here are some cool things that I think are important and you should know:

• Brand New's new album "The Devil and God are Raging Inside Me" is A+. Their single "Jesus Christ" is simply amazing. Catch my myspace and give it a listen. The CD cover is creepy.
  
• Hard Fi has a good song out called "Cash Machine" that has some excellent lyrics with an 80's style riff. Haven't heard any of their other stuff, but Cash Machine is fantastic.
• I've been watching reruns of The X-Files lately. I didn't realize what a truly good show it turned out to be.
• For one reason or another, grape powerade is slowly becoming my second favorite drink to water. Tasty!
• Lastly - kids; return your library books. Do your part. Make a difference.
  

Weird Dream

Last night it was super hot in my bedroom. It seemed like I could do nothing to cool it off. I turned the fan on high, kicked the covers off and hoped for the best. What I got was nothing short of weird!

See, whenever the temperature in my room creeps past seventy-five degrees, my dreams tend to become much more vivid and walk the thin line between dream and nightmare. More often than not, I'll have a nightmare that's so real that I'll wake up genuinely afraid of what I had been dreaming of. What a wimp I be.

Last night was no different. I ended up having several vivid dreams and one very, very vivid nightmare. I'll detail it now. (We're now entering dream-mode, so everything I say will be narrated as if I were dreaming.)

I'm standing in the town of Roscoe, PA where the sun is bright and the streets empty. While walking the street towards the end of town, the streets begin to skew and look more like Allenport, PA. No matter, as skewed as the streets become, they all lead to the end of town. As I continue my walk, the streets become narrow and wide in an almost heartbeat-esque style. I decide I've had enough with the streets and I take to the railroad tracks. The tracks seem firm enough, neither skewed or twisted, with the path ahead clear of railcars and the view just as clear. However, upon stepping on the tracks, I shift into another parallel reality. It seems that the tracks are a gateway to what is really going on in the little borough of Roscoe, PA. Stepping back off the tracks takes me back to the roads that are still skewing and twisting. While standing on the road, the day is clear and sunny and children are playing while adults tend to their yardwork. Immediately stepping back onto the tracks reveals the children are mercilessly fighting, wearing tattered clothes and generally appearing pauperish. The town has become a slum, with the adults no longer tending to their yards, but sitting in rocking chairs in the middle of their lawns, scratching and clawing towards me, screaming in a strange tongue "fresh meat". To make things even stranger, the adults had exposed pieces of bones, severe wounds, few teeth and spoke in a completely different dialect that I can only describe as "gutterspeak". It looked like a kingdom of the damned, and it was damned horrifying (heh). As I continued along the tracks I noticed a small militia had gathered. This militia looked most dishevelled, apparently suffering heavy losses at the hands of the gutterspeaking undead. Worth noting is that this militia looked like it was carved out of God's image. While all other things around them were dark, dead and dreary, they were bright, with whites and reds and blues draped over their armor. They looked as if they were probably the most high guards or court of a king somewhere. Their leader was badly injured and as the lieutenant sounded the retreat (which took place along the railway) he informed the group that their leader was indeed dying. Now, and perhaps most importantly, since I happened upon this militia I had heard a faint mumbling in my ear to which I gave little concern. As the militia retreated, they were followed and hunted by horrible wraiths and dark riders that perhaps were once part of the honorable militia but had fallen and were corrupted by a foul power. The faint mumbling was becoming louder with each passing moment until a dead scribe with a large book approached me. One by one, members of the militia were falling as they ran. In the wake of the wraiths and dark riders, the scribe then etched their name in the book, instantly raising them from where they had fallen and forcing them into service of this dark army. Hunted had become hunters. While the wraiths, dark riders and scribe passed me by (they had taken no notice of me, so I can only assume I was invisible) I had noticed the mumbling had become a loud beckoning and wasn't being shouted by the scribe. In fact, the scribe's mouth had been sewn shut, indicated by three large stiched X's through his lips. The beckoning was coming from the book. That damned book. (This book was probably the most horrifying part of this dream.) The book had an eyeball (a real eyeball) in the middle of it that searched for life in the general nearby area, so that the wraiths and dark riders would snuff it out in order to enlist another fallen in the undead army. Upon finding life, the eye would become fixed on the person, in a dead-on stare, so that the wraiths and dark riders could find a clear path to the living. I remember distinctly the book shouting a passage from "Saul 21:11 - All living whom encounter the forgotten ones will they too become forgotten." The book would keep reading its' blasted passages aloud, each one horrifying me more than the last. The last chilling moment I can remember in this dream was when the scribe passed me. The book fixed its' eye upon me and refused to blink, giving me the death-stare. You can imagine how terrified I had become. Since I was invisible, however, only the book was able to see me (through some foul power, no doubt) so while the wraiths and dark riders gathered near me, none could see me. After what seemed like an eternity, the wraiths and riders gave up their hunt for me and pressed forward, hunting the remaining militia all the while the eye in the book stayed fixed on me.

I wake up.

Whew! That was too creepy for me. My first thoughts whenever I woke up was "This is PROOF that there are two bibles in this world - the common bible (God's Word, The Light Bible, The Holy Bible --- whatever you want to call it.) - and the dark bible (I immediately thought of "The Necronomicon, from Army of Darkness). What was weird about this book was that the eyeball was always on the right side of the book, when you turned the page, the page that was flipped to the left looked like a normal page would - but you'd think there'd obviously be a hole there due to the eyeball. Weird. It was about 4am so I didn't go back to sleep for fear that the dream would pick up where it left off. I watched repeats of SportsCenter to get my mind off things.

Here's my view from the tracks of the hillside near where the militia was, though this isn't where I encountered the book, I thought I'd throw it in there just to illustrate my point.



I hope this doesn't creep anyone out as much as it did me. I do hope it made for an interesting read.

Crock gone!

Round 'em up!

Nope, its not time for one of Peanut Butter Paul's once-promised thing that quote; "every kid should have at least one of" (see Debate 2004). It's merely a weekend summation of events rewritten in digital king's english. Read ye on, lest ye be unlearned.

I played my first hockey game in over a year this past weekend. This time, its the summer league at Bill's Golf Land. While playing for the same team for years is a good source of annual fun, we really need to invest more money into our recruitment department. It seems like year after year we are constantly hurting to put a full team on the deck at a single time. We have enough players rostered, we just never get much more that four to six players together at any given moment. That's usually fine with me, as I play the entire 60 minutes anyway, but it really takes a toll on Necciai who not only has to play the role of Gretzky, but occasionally lend a hand to our bumbling defense. And boy, can we bumble.

I had an assist on one of Necciai's four goals this weekend. I also ate one of the smaller wingers from the opposing team in front of our net that netted me a two minute stay in the sin-bin. Hindsight being 20/20, I probably would have been better off hittin' the powerade at the intermission, since we not only gave up a power play goal, he also provided little nutritional value.

Afterwards, I went home and promptly got a shower. I couldn't believe how absolutely beat I was. I'm in great shape. I run a mile a day (usually) with at least 10 wind sprints mixed in there. I still am in a bit of shock when I look at how much my endurance has waned over the course of the past year. Taking a year off was quite a step backwards, albeit necessary. (Personal reasons)

Towards the end of the hellish, sweltering Sunday - Reese, Rollo and I claimed Richardson Park as our late evening haunt. We played catch for about an hour while working up a mean, sweaty stench that reached its vilest when we all decided we'd play a "hot round". While this may sound like our desperate attempt at stripping (it's not, but believe me, that will come) it really meant we'd just throw the ball as quickly as we can between the three of us, at close range. This went well until we all ignored our gloves and open-fisted each toss. Reese especially loves this, since she's quite adept at slapping a high speed ball with her hand. Broken fingers? Not quite, but damn close.

Our earlier attempts at catch were plagued by many balls rolling across the grass, across a sidewalk and into a river because either the throw was terrible (usually) or Rollo didn't catch it (equally as usual).

Wrapping it up, we left the park, hit up a freshwater spring, and went home. I was beat, Rollo stank pretty bad, and Reese was interested in a movie. I'll leave you with these questions:

• Did I ever get rest?
• Did Rollo ever get a shower?
• Was Reese's thirst for a movie quenched?
• Will I file a grievance against Grumpy at work?

For the answers to these and more, stay tuned...

Must...Write...

Lately I've gotten this itch to write about damn near everything and anything I can imagine. From blogging to bits of paper I keep at my cluttered desk at work, I've made a very real, very determined attempt at scratching this itch. I have no idea why I feel the need to get my thoughts down on paper, or digital internet, or stone tablet or whatever - all I know is that writing is what I'm compelled to do nowadays.

Hell, we don't have a video camera to screw around with anymore.

I find it somewhat distracting. All of a sudden I'm not so worried about when I'm going to find time to go running (don't panic, that's almost second nature by now) or what I'm going to eat for dinner. Instead I'm trying to formulate my thoughts into a format that would be the easiest to read. Thank God for the blog, eh?

This really is quite good, especially for Crock & Murph in the Morning. I find, the more I take time to write during the week, the sharper I tend to be when we're recording. In fact, I feel I do my best work when some of my comedy is written down on a loose-leaf sheet of paper that I can just tote with me to the show (like I've got far to go).

My recent fascination with writing has gone to such epic lengths that I often wonder what it would be like if I were to write a novel, or at least a really cheap "how-to" book. I found myself showering the other day, and completely focused on what I want to eventually write. I've got ideas. I've always wanted to author a series of children's books. Dr Seuss is a genius. I'm not bad at fantasy sports. I could write at great lengths on how to be successful there, if you're into that sort of thing. I've got loads of life experiences that I feel, if I didn't share, I'd be doing the world a disservice. I even ate a big sandwich once. A huge sandwich. Who wouldn't want to read about that?

I think my biggest problem is when/where inspiration actually hits. Sometimes it will strike me on the way to the bathroom when I'm working the midnight shift. Quite often, it'll strike me when I'm getting a shower. (Have you ever tried writing anything in the shower? Complete failure.)

The best part about my desire to write lately is that I've been updating SUYM regularly, and that's something that been a long time in coming. SUYM is quite important to me, and to update it is nothing short of refreshing. As is updating my Flickr. It really feels like we (the SUYM collective) are pulling out of a year-and-a-half long slump of doldrum-esque languish where we failed to do much of anything (aside from Crock & Murph). Sure there's no videos at the moment. That doesn't mean content won't come.

Quoting a co-worker (who I affectionately call Grumpy) to best describe the situation at hand:

Just because the lawnmower is broke don't mean you ain't cuttin' grass this weekend, asshole.
-Grumpy

Bachelor Party Recap

Everyone survived. Pictures will be on my Flickr tonight.

That's all you need to know.

Ted's Bachelor Party

Finally, another two weeks of the midnight shift is at a close. Well, in roughly three hours it will close, but that DOESN"T MATTER NOW!

What does matter is that tomorrow - my friend, your friend, everybody's friend Ted Collins (whom I affectionately call Buppy) will be in for the time of his life. It his bachelor's party / night out / what-guys-do-before-other-guys-get-married. If what Ray tells me comes true, Ted will be (once again) hauled home in the bed of some truck and leaned against the tree in his yard until he wakes up the next morning.

Truth be told, I'm not exactly sure what to expect. I've been around long enough to know a seriously awesome party when I smell one, but this has a certain hype about it that I find it damn near impossible to try to predict what is going to go down. Whatever happens, though, I'll be sure to write about what I can clearly remember. (Like the ride there! Everyone loves the ride there!)

That's all for now, more after "it" happens.

Adios.

Old Reliable

Well, crap.

So it's not the "made-by-a-mac", "iWeb-produced" cookie-cutter blog that you're used to. Yeah, I'm back to using my old blog, but you know what? It's not so bad.

Sure the other blog was more trendy, more pleasing to the eye. But you know what? This blog format never let me down. That's right, in a word - this one's been the most reliable. And in this crazy, mixed up world --- what more can you ask for in blogs or life in general that reliable things?

Blogs aside, among other things that I had once thought reliable, our beloved SUYM video camera tops the list. For years it seems like this camera could be leaned on heavily to produce mid-quality, serviceable movies for SUYM. I know we've certainly fallen short of our "video hayday" but hell, its not like we just ignored the camera. We used it from time to time to record haircuts, fireworks dissection and occasionally used it as a type of "analog Tivo" whenever our VCR broke. I guess you can say it didn't really see "regular use" but by no means was it ever overworked. So yesterday comes and we're to film our motion picture extraordinaire high atop Mount Uniontown. Everything appears to be going well until what I like to refer to as "The Brownsville Incident" occured. While driving through the cursed borough of Brownsville, I turn the camera on to get some sweet footage and notice we're getting a message on the LCD indicating the lens cap needs to be removed. We haven't used that damn lens cap since we got the camera in 2004. Further troubleshooting revealed the camera in BUNK-MODE which means its broke real good. No camera, no video. Now we've gotta pour our very limited funds into a new camera. Here ends the reliability of our first SUYM camera. We're set to have a viking's funeral for it, once we get another camera with which to film it.

Reliability further spits directly in my path on Friday when I was driving home from a brisk midnight shift at the Help Desk for Consol Energy. At the time I owned a relatively reliable 2000 Plymouth Neon. Sure it had 82,000 miles on it, but it had to get to that mark SOMEHOW, and the only way to achieve big numbers and long distances is to remain reliable. For some time now, my car has been struggling for fuel it seems when I first start it up, or whenever I come to a stop after a steep incline, or (more recently) at stop lights on route 19. Welp, after three stalls coming home from work that fateful Friday, I decide I'm done funneling money into a car thats bleeding to death. I don't know about you but 82,000 miles scares the shit out of me. A Neon is a cheap ass car to begin with, and wheel bearings and transmissions aren't built out of Jesus. They won't last forever. This, once reliable, Neon had to go. Happy travels.

Saturday I complete a deal (with my terrible credit leading the way) for a brand-spanking-new Dodge Caliber R/T. Since my credit is so shitty, I had assumed it would be best to try to get into a used vehicle, like a Stratus (I drove one of these for two months in 2004 and I thoroughly enjoyed it) so that's where I started. Rotolo's Chrysler Jeep Dodge did my mom a real solid a few months back when they helped her purchase her Liberty, so I began and ended my search with them. They informed me that since my credit isn't the best, it would be easier to get into a new vehicle rather than a used one. Chrysler Financial told me it was because newer vehicles are less likely to break down, come with a standard warranty and I won't have to go looking for another car loan in two years. I had no argument whatsoever for this. If I could get a new car (not to mention some peace of mind for the first time in many years) then, damnit, that's what I was going to do. Now, its officially called a "Crossover SUV" by Dodge but traditionally I'd call this thing a station wagon. Hell, I call Rollo's Vibe a wagon, and its defined by GM as a "Crossover" so what the hell do I know? I'll take my crossover (wagon) and my 230 total miles on the car and gladly not worry for the next six years.

To completely grasp the amount of fretful worry that I have generated sicne I was 16, I'll document each and every car I've owned since then. To date, I've probably owned more cars than some people own in a lifetime. The reason I got rid of the vehicle will appear in ITALICS directly after my comments about it.

Crock's List of Rides (through 2007)

1. 1988 Ford Ranger 4x4 - This was a very special truck because my father, brother and I completely rebuilt it from the ground up. The front driver-size wheel flew off and over a hill while I was about to trade it in due to the engine slowly fading. FUN!
2. 1996 Chevrolet S-10 - A two wheel drive truck didn't fit me too well, so upon Jake turning 16, he inherited it. I chose to finance a used car in the meanwhile.
3. 1999 Ford ZX2 - A quick trip to the family excavation business during college made me realize that this isn't the vehicle for me. It was an awesome blue color so - I chose to keep it (mom liked it) and I bought another Ranger.
4. 1999 Ford Ranger 4x4 - My first extended cab vehicle! It was completely paid off at the time I decided I needed to get a Mustang.
5. 2002 Ford Mustang - This vehicle hung around for a good while before the payments became overwhelming shortly after my old man passed away (RIP). It also got t-boned by a dude who ran a stop sign before my shift started while I was working for the illustrious Calltech Communications, LLC. Let's pick it up from the accident.
6. 2003 Dodge Stratus - I got this little number as a rental for a few months while my 'stang was being repaired. It was easily my favorite vehicle ever. The mustang didn't handle the way the Stratus did, and was harder on gas. Unfortunately after two months the 'stang was back on the road.
7. 2002 Ford ZX2 - Another ZX2? For the love of God... This was the black one (sister wrecked the awesome blue one) and yeah, I had to use this for a greater portion of my college years (mom had the 'stang) since I needed to save on gas. It turns out that my old man was the primary borrower on the loan for this thing, so when he called it a life, so did the car.
   
8. 1995 Jeep Grand Cherokee Limited 4x4 - Skip ahead a few years and the Mustang payment (I was using it again, mom took the ZX2) was too much for a kid who is working part-time at Canonsburg Hospital and knee deep in debt. So I traded out of the Mustang for a SUV for very little money.
9. 2000 Plymouth Neon LX - After replacing the entire intake system on the Grand Cherokee, I decided that the gas mileage in the V8 was too much for driving to Pittsburgh every day. Not to mention the transmission was SHOT in the Jeep. My old friends at Three Rivers Volkswagen (remember the guys who almost hired me?) hooked me up with a Neon for very, very little money and my trade, of course. To this day, I thank the stars that they had that Neon as my Jeep would have certainly died in a week.
10. 2007 Dodge Caliber R/T - The Neon was good to me, probably the best out of all the vehicles. Intermittent stallings coupled with an odometer that read 82,953 at the end of it's time with me, scared me enough to plead with Rotolo's to get me approved for SOMETHING. Well, they pulled through with flying colors. When they first showed me the vehicle, I told em "Ain't no way I'm driving a wagon." but then I got to drive it. This thing is loaded to the TEETH. Its even got an Autostick - a huge plus since I was torn between getting a 5-speed (to save gas) rather than sticking with an automatic. In all, I couldn't be more happy, and the price was low enough that I could add two more years onto the warranty comfortably. Hopefully this will be the last in a long line of vehicles. Even more hopefully, it'll be the most reliable of them all.

There. Reliable in a nutshell. I'm also realizing that a few other things are reliable. Here's a very short list:

• Rollo not being on time for anything, ever.
• Satellite Radio
• Crock & Murph episodes without guests
• Payday (thank God)
• Pregnancies (babies havin' babies, daily)
• Excellent Friends
  

I hope you can take something out of this and appreciate anything reliable in your life. Hug a friend. Kick an enemy. Call your mom. Appreciate what you got.