Stories of Mikistory

I wake up at three in the morning with out the help of my phone alarm.  I check it, as it was supposed to go off right before 3.  Stupid.  I set it for PM.  I take my shower, and then Kell has hers.  We leave the Motel 6 in Madison to go across the street to the Huntsville airport. Everything checked in and ready to go, we begin our adventure.  Then we get to Atlanta, where we have to wait for 2.5 hours to get on our next plane.  Which we do, and begin our adventure again. I notice a couple of things while flying.  One is that people are eager to stand in a line.  When boarding begins people jump up, just to wait like they're gonna get a premier seat.  But they're not.  They're getting the one that's on the ticket.  No better, no worse.  Same when getting off a plane.  They jump up, only to wait for 10 minutes.  We sit in our chair and wait patiently, comfortably. I also notice the lady across the isle that on a 2.5 hour flight, she Mary Poppins a giant roast beef sa

Because I forgot to do this on Tuesday. Today's track is Man of the Hour by Pearl Jam from the "Big Fish" soundtrack. I waited through the whole movie to hear the song where it would get played.  Didn't happen until the credits. The song didn't have a huge impact on me until my friend died.  Then it was like I couldn't not play it.  It seemed to be on rotate for about a week straight. Now its taking on a new meaning.  Come October 22nd, I'll be walking that isle to a Cello/Violin duet version.  It took Kell quite some time convincing me that I could use this song for something other than remembering my friend's death.  I'm glad she did.

I've started to write this blog about 10 times now, but continually back out.  I'm not entirely for sure why.  Maybe I'm not enjoying the beats its taking, or it feels pretentious or something.  Well, today...I'm writing it. I keep reading "30 is the new 25" or "40 is the new 30"  Thank Christ, because I'm taking my sweet ass time in age. I've taken a while longer to grow up than most people I know.  When I say "grow up", I'm not talking mature.  I've felt since a young age that I was fairly mature.  I mean, I still make dick and fart jokes.  But taking care of business...that sort of thing.  The growing up I'm talking about is more along the lines of getting married, having kids, buying a house.  But do those things even really constitute being a grown up?  I see television shows where people are getting married, and having kids while in High School.  They seem to be about as mature as middle school child. And its

The morning almost got away from me... This morning's video is AC/DC's Who Made Who Why this song?  Well, this is from the first rock and roll album I ever bought, the "Who Made Who" album, which doubled as a soundtrack to Maximum Overdrive. I was raised on Country, a little southern rock, and easy listening.  I made friends with a kid who listened to Ozzy, Metallica, AC/DC and others.  I spent the night at his house, and listened to Hard Rock/Metal all night.  I changed right there.  The next day, I got my mom to take me to the mall, and I bought "Who Made Who" on cassette.  There was no significance behind why I chose this album.  I loved the way AC/DC sounded, and this one was on sale, I want to say like five dollars. I never looked back.

Every Tuesday, I'm going to start posting a video of a song, and discuss what that track means to me.  Not necessarily what the song means, but what it makes me feel, and what memories it may bring back.  Today's inaugural post is Pearl Jam covering Mother Love Bone's Crown of Thorns. This song gets me two fold.  1.  Its being played by my favorite band.  2.  I've loved this song every since I first heard it back in 91-92, just pulls me right back to playing it on repeat over and over again.  Its one of those, that no matter how many times I hear it, I'm constantly surprised at how good it is.  . It was on the Singles soundtrack, where I first heard it.  I knew who Smashing Pumpkins, Pearl Jam, Soundgarden, Hendrix & a few others were, but there was this one song called Chloe Dancer/Crown of Thorns by Mother Love Bone, that I fell in love with.  Then, come to find out a couple of members of Pearl Jam had come from MLB, well that was just icing on the cake. Tha

My brother said something the other day that I've been thinking quite a bit about lately.  "Damn, you're cheap" It was in reference to that I very rarely update car tags.  I don't generally care to stand in line and pay 50 dollars for that nonsense.  I once drove a car with tags that were four years and one state out of date. But it really made me look at other things, and wonder "am I really cheap?" I buy bottom shelf whiskey that comes in a green label.  When I buy beers, they're usually Natural Light or Miller High Life.  Not for hipster or ironic reasons, but because I think they taste good, and are inexpensive. I shop for clothes in the clearance section at Target.  Sometimes the gap. I turn off lights and shut off rooms that don't need air conditioning. I wear clothes and shoes until they're destroyed. I bought my bicycle from a pawn shop. I've started to cut my own hair. I buy sunglasses from the gas station or a street ve

I. Love. Diet. Dr. Pepper.  Love it.  In a can, bottle or preferably from a fountain.  I love it mixed with whiskey or rum.  I love it when my throat feels clogged in the morning. What I do not love, are businesses that sell regular Dr. Pepper, and not its superior Diet counterpart. Walmart is the latest to fall to the "regular only" businesses.  My only pleasure in going to Walmart, was at the end of shopping, there were ice cold Diet Dr. Peppers waiting to be purchased and then drank by me.  Now, they're gone.  Seemingly replaced by Fanta.  WHAT THE FUCK IS A FANTA? I run into this at every restaurant that is not Chic-Fil-A or McDonalds.  "Do you guys have Diet Dr. Pepper?" And they will always give one of three responses.  1. No, we have Diet. Coke (which is an ok substitute in a pinch.) 2. No, we have Diet Pepsi.  I would rather get punched in the head of my dick, than drink Diet Pepsi. Then, 3.  No, but we have regular Dr. Pepper.  Which is the worst re

Its hard to sit back, and know that you want to take the highroad, when you're constantly getting run down for no reason.  Whenever you're not around, stories get twisted, comments made, lies told.  You decide not to lower yourself, saying their time will come.  Something will happen to bring them down.  Down to a level you've never sunk to before.  Something that will open eyes.  See where the truth lies. This dear readers has been a long frustrating road.  One that's seen tears, and anger.  But stayed anger with fake smiles. The mighty have fallen.  They have been exposed.  And I didn't have to do anything.  I took the high road.  They destroyed themselves. Finally, I know that the lies, the twisted stories, the forked tongue comments have been silenced, as there's no way in hell they'll be believed ever again. Its a great day for me.

No post this week, as I had a full one, and just managed to close the window before posting.  So, fuck it.

I believe this will be a new feature, every Friday. Its 8:43 a.m., and Duhbbs has already disappeared from sight twice.  Note to self; may need to get her a collar with a bell on it. Seeing as how Pandora and Last.FM have not pleased me with their music choices for me, I've had to bring in a ringer, my iPod. Why is it OK for men to be shirtless and have nipples about, but not women?  Balls and Vagajiz, I get, but someone can get away with the whole boob exposed, save for the nipple.  That's just dumb. What is it about superglue that anytime I use it, I get about 1/2 the tube on my hands?  Its like I have an extra layer of skin that I could grab a hot iron with right now.  I had to use the superglue, because my new bicycle mount for my iPod has a design flaw in it.  When i hit the first major bump on my way to work, both the mount and the iPod went sailing.  Not sure why it was designed like this.  Its built so the mount is secure to the bike, but you can clip part of it

I used to be pretty damned skinny all through High School, college, post college and being single years.  I ate horrible food, and drank All. The. Time. When Kell and I started dating, I weighed in right at 180.  Which really isn't bad for my height.  And I kept that weight for the most part, but then Kell got laid off, and during this period, starting watching Food Network.  And we moved from our downtown place, to a regular house, which meant no more stairs, or walking to work.  Which meant, the weight I was keeping off began to pack on my ass.  I ballooned right on up to about 240.   I finally decided enough was enough, and decided to start loosing weight.  But not by actually going to a gym, consulting anybody, or watching videos or any smart way.  I pretty much winged it. I drank beer non stop when I drank, always Natural Light.  Its cheap, and tastes awesome.  I love carbonation.  If it were a drinking night, I could pound beers non stop.  Cause they're so delicious, an

Always turns out to be ALLLL NIGHT. Here's how Saturday ran down for me. 6:30 in the morning, my dad calls "Hey, breakfast at 7:30, that OK?" We go and meet dad, one of my brothers, and one of my sisters for breakfast. Then, afterwards go to Mom and Dad's house for a little while.  Leave.  Run errands.  Come back to the house.  Sleep till about 2.  Get up.  Drink a beer.  Then another.  Get texts back and forth from April about what to do.  Finally call her.  Meet at On The Rocks at about nine.  Kell and I agree that we won't go out that long, just hang at OTR for a bit, and then come home.  Well, April and Kim are running a few minutes behind.  I power down a few more beers.  They arrive.  I drink a few more beers. They suggest we go to DP's.  We agree.  Kell and I get in April's car, and we head across the river. I move on to whiskey and diets, as Nan makes them pretty killer, and they're dirt cheap. I start to get drunk, and text/tweet Sarah

Its 12:24 on Friday.  Pandora is playing grunge, or at least its supposed to, but for some reason Blink 182 is playing.  I click on the "thumbs down", pandora apologizes, and tells me it will find something else that I will like. It plays Incubus.  Fuck.  "thumbs down."  Blind Melon.  I won't "thumbs up", but I won't fast forward either. I keep trying to write a new blog, but keep deleting it.  I think it comes off as pretentious.  And that's not the way I'm wanting it to sound.   The rain won't quit today.   Due to slow business, we're cutting back on some employees hours.  Marvin will no longer come in on Fridays.  And Marie is taking off next Friday.  Which means I'll be stuck with Duhbbs all day long.  I'll have to do my best not to murder her.  She makes it difficult not to do sometimes.  Maybe I'll just slug her.  I can't go to jail for that, right? I'm digging this new gray polo from the gap.   Fits we

Its been a while since we got back from our Mardi Gras trip.  I think I can still recount much of what happened. Kell and I arrived in town earlier than what I thought, and was greeted by a flat out awesome smell of coffee.  We parked the Jeep at the nearby parking deck, and proceeded to try to find the Hotel to check in.  Which we should have done before unloading said Jeep, and walking down the street with suitcases, four bottles of liquor and other items in tow.  But no problem, as the hotel was right down the block.  Checked in, and admired the size of our room.  Like really admired it, especially seeing as how large it was for the price I paid during the Mardi Gras period.   Hotels.com FTW! We jumped right into having fun, as Kell had brought our Fat Tuesdays drink holders from our last trip two Halloweens ago.  I filled mine with Rum and Diet Dr. Pepper, and Kell did her's with Rum and Coke Zero.  Hit the streets and began to have fun.  We opted first to head up to Bourbon,

1. Beach pictures where everyone is dressed the same.  Especially white tops with khaki shorts. Everyone seems to do this for some reason.  I'm not even clear why.  Its like it started as some virus that just spread uncontrollably, and everyone thinks they're the ones who did it first.  I'll purposely not bring khaki or white to the beach to ensure this doesn't go down. 2. Mothers who call their daughters "sis" I don't know why this makes my skin crawl.  My own mother is guilty of this, (and the above).  Something about it is just gross.  Its like the word Nog. 3. Running into people that I haven't seen since High School. I'm just fucking awkward to begin with.  Not to mention having to think about what's gone down in 10 - 14 years since we've last hung out that I can get across in 5 minutes time.  That's what facebook and email, or getting a drink sometime is for. 4. People that say "God Bless You" Not that I'm

Your face looks like you took make up advice from a drunk chimp. Your speech patterns are akin to if someone cut out your tongue and replaced it with play-doh. You constantly look like you're pregnant, even though it should be against the law for you to procreate. You dress like Shaggy from Scooby-Doo on accident. Your monosyllabic grunts travel through time, to even where cavemen say "what the fuck is she talking about?" Your thighs are too big for your corduroy pants you insist on wearing every day, which allows me to hear you coming from a mile away. Your hair dye job screams accident, but its been the same for 3 years now. You butcher the English language so well, you should open up a shop, and sell slabs of vowels. You stare blankly at a copier as if it holds the answers to the universe. Your pronunciation of your daughter's name "CHRIYUSTEENUH"  makes me want to permanently remove my ears by bashing them on the concrete. You just really deser

This is a bit of cheating, as I wrote this on another blog a couple of years ago, but reposting it here. A story so impossible, if it happened to anyone else, you know they would be lying. Yesterday afternoon I was asked to run some letters up to the post office by one of my bosses. So, I did as he asked. On my way back, I was about to cross the street, I noticed that I had the right of way, and that April Koonce was at one of the red lights. I waved, and she waved, and said hi. As i was saying hi back, all of the sudden...BOP! A chevrolet avalanche popped me in the hip. From what april said, she had stopped, and then decided to go again. I spun around and shouted "WHAT THE HELL?!" I've seen scared faces before, but never have i ever seen someone w/ the fear of god in their eyes. This woman was scared white. I turned back to April and said, "I JUST GOT HIT BY A FUCKING TRUCK!" Then walked back to my office. April tailed her, and g

Seven years ago. That's how long its been since I was last at Mardi Gras. I wouldn't call it a seven year hangover, but I would definitely say "Mardi Gras kicked my ass." When my friends and I first arrived at our hotel, we hit speed bump number one at check in. The room was booked for approximately 1/2 the people who ended up showing up. Thanks to one Mrs. Mitchell and some cash flashing, everyone got in. In to one hotel room. Which was fine, we weren't there for comfort, we were there for three days of unbridled binging. Which we did. The first thing we did when we got in our room was unpack. Not clothes. Vodka. Bottles and bottles of vodka. The counter looked like a well stocked vodka isle in the ABC store. We all made heavy handed drinks and went out to the parade. Which was awesome. We caught beads, and Lord of the Rings rings. Frodo was the grandmaster of the parade or something. After the parade was over, we went back to the r