Tuesdays with Muerte

Mark my words, this is what The Festival of Colors is going to turn into within 10 years. (At least in Canada.) p.s. I miss Colorado. ---------------- Listening to: Grieg - Fairy Dance

Preface I slept in twice this week to cope because life without roommates is so boring. Today, I woke up the first time at 10am, had a bowl of cereal and decided to go back to bed. The second time I woke up was at noon. I showered, read scriptures, re-wrote yesterday's blog post, listened to the eerie silence surrounding my apartment complex and went back to bed until 3pm. Dream It's during these late afternoon naps that my dreams take a turn for the bizarre. I spent three hours climbing stairs of city skyscrapers and searching the rooftops for abandoned sniper rifles. And no, I didn't find any. I just had a feeling that some top secret assassination operation had gone awry, forcing a sniper to make a quick exit and leave their weapon behind. I deliberately walked every inch of those rooftops in search of rifles. First around the parameter of the rooftop, and then in zig-zags. The air-conditioning units were loud. It was basically the only thing I heard for the...

Preface : If you google searched the title in the hopes of seeing some bizarre paraphilia, this post will disappoint you.  The title simply refers to three times in my life when I used words/phrases I thought I understood the meanings of, but really didn't... Theme of this post : No matter how morally tainted I think I am, I'll always have friends that are worse than me. FETISH — Times when I feel tainted : Knowledge of the obscene makes me feel regretfully dirty. Yet, I also feel a sense of superior power in knowing when NOT to use certain terms. Any time a dirty word is misused, it's difficult for me to keep from laughing; sometimes I have to cover my mouth to keep it in. Then I wonder what it would be like if I had never been "educated" in such things in the first place. Then I typically dwell on how much filth my mind has collected over the years until something else distracts me. In those moments, I feel like I'm the dirtiest person in the room. ...

Wednesday : At the DI Trailer, every day is Christmas. You can go back ever six hours throughout the week and there will be new stuff there. Granted, it is very well picked over by the current residents. I used to go Diving at night. I would searched through the mountains of junk using only a headlamp and listen to Mission Impossible on my iPod; I thought it accentuated the mood. But the headphones kept getting in the way and it was way less effective in the dark. So I switched to afternoon Diving. It turns out I was much less conspicuous and no one really cares anyway. *Toaster Oven *CD Boombox to donate to the indoor tennis courts *Wicked, the Novel in Spanish for a musical RM in my ward *1001 Questions to ask before marriage -- I know who will love this! *A More Perfect Union DVD *Metal Strainer *SHOUT stain remover squirt bottle *Vase for my fish *Flag poll for my Mexican flag *Crayons *Super-cool Iron with all the bells and whistles Thursday : Wednesday is the last day Dump...

Everyone is seeing the image of Christ in food these days.  I wanted to jump on the bandwagon by sharing my story.  Let's just think of this as looking for the hand of God  in my daily life. One of my buddies, gave me a great hair cut today.  If you ask me who cut my hair, I'm suppose to ask you "Do you like it?" And if you say yes, then I am allowed to tell you; it was Randy. Anyway, when he was finished, we noticed that one side of my hair looked a little wonkie. There was a dark splotch. At first, I thought it was a birth mark but after we both took a closer look, it ended up being a patch of hair still patted down from a baseball cap I was wearing earlier. If you enlarge the pic and squint, you can see Jesus. Later, I took a look at it in the mirror and beheld a miracle. From a certain angle, I could clearly make out the likeness of Jesucristo! It was a comforting moment for me because it was just then that I was feeling very much alone since my ...

The Classic High-Five: Guaranteed to connect! For anyone who spent their formative years in peer groups flashing the Vulcan greeting or for those who are just plain uncoordinated, the high five can be an intimidating prospect. Fear not, there's a science to the 'soul-clap' —- just follow these simple steps: The Classic 1. Always initiate. He who launches the high five owns the high five. Engage your upper-arm muscles, keep your wrist firm, and propel your hand like the meteor of awesome it is. (Maintain altitude and an open hand — this ain't no fist bump.) Your high-fivee can only surrender. 2. Don't look at the hand. That looming palm is a moving, unpredictable target. Instead, keep your eye on the elbow; that'll automatically line up your mitts. 3. Cup your palm. As you reach the high point of the arc, make your hand slightly concave to create that satisfying thunderclap. Source : Click here to learn the Scrubs-Sexually-Aggressive-High-Five , Top-Gun-Wingman...

My life has some of the best photobombs.  I've collected a few below: The Double Bomb I'm not sure when this one was taken. Judging from my tan and lack of facial hair, it's probably two weeks into our trip to Europe. It also could have been taken in our drive way inside of the 'Silver Bullet'. Or possibly after sending my uncle to the ER after his head connected with my cousin's front teeth during a game of Ultimate Frisbee. All I know for sure is that Stef was upset with us after checking the picture. The Sneaky Bomb Stef's Revenge on Belle. Phil was collateral damage. The Flying Bomb Fellow Shipmate, David, bombing a landscape shot off the back of our Yangsee River cruise ship, 2007. The Animal Bomb Hiking behind Y-Mount in 2008. The Unintentional Bomb Oblivious Eric at the Raintree, 2006. The Staged version of the "Unintentional" bomb. That Blue Man, Andrew, just popped up in this photo...and everyone elses...