SB

It’s the New Year and everyone else is doing resolutions, so I guess it’s my turn. Hopefully I’ll succeed in completing at least two of these.

1. Read at least 12 books

When I was a kid, I full out LOVED reading. Third grade was spent as the nerd that read during recess with giant glasses and a full retainer to accentuate my status of dorkiest child imaginable. I continued reading as I got older, although mostly just one or two Michael Crichton books per year (plus the cliff notes for whatever book we were assigned at school), but as movies and video games beautifully murdered my attention span, books fell to the back burner – eventually disappearing from my to-do list entirely.

Well, it’s time for that to end. I miss reading; I genuinely do. My girlfriend Laura used to read quite a bit before we happened, and as we happily hurl ourselves into “coupliest couple ever” what better way to do that than to start a two person book club? I’m aiming low with only one book per month in hopes of actually meeting the goal for once, so we’ll see how it goes.

Right now the tentative list is pretty small. We’re kicking off with A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole – allegedly one of the funniest books of all time. We also plan to read at least one of my cousin Kaye’s romance novels, leaning towards Menu for Romance as the key target (though I might have to make Laura read Stand-In Groom to catch up). I’m also hoping to squeeze in a Michael Crichton novel, a Stephen King short story collection, and maybe the first Harry Potter.

If you have any recommendations for easy reading, throw them out there. My crippled attention span has led to me being a horrifically slow reader since I often find myself getting distracted by one small detail, allowing my mind to wander while I continue “reading”, and then realizing I haven’t been paying attention at all so that I have to backtrack to the last thing I actually remember happening. Recommendations under 300 pages are welcome.

2. Budget a little

As I’ve mentioned before, I’m addicted to buying DVD’s. Right now, from Black Friday through Christmas, I have about forty DVD’s sitting on my fireplace mantle that I haven’t even TOUCHED. I’ve recently suspended my Netflix account to force me to watch them, and after that I have a bunch of old favorites I need Laura to watch for the sake of our relationship. Fortunately she also loves movies, so this won’t be a problem and should save a considerable amount of money.

3. Write More

I know Bullshish has been dissipating since June-ish (excluding Horrorfest), and it’s not something I’m proud of. My life no longer revolves solely around watching a movie and talking about it, so it’s inevitable that the movie reviews will die down to only one per week on the latest theatrical release, but my hope is that I’ll be able to kick SuperBull into high gear as I ramble about my brilliant opinions on Taco Bell, board games, and the books we’re reading.

I also really, really, really need to get back to my script writing, though I’m fumbling through about eighteen different writing ideas, from webisodes to marketing a slasher movie game, and haven’t quite decided which idea will be my baby for a while which brings me to #4…

4. Pick a project

I need to edit Script 1 to be more taut. I need to finish Script 2 before I start the preliminary steps of Script 3 and 4 simultaneously. I need to sit down and make myself write.

Here’s to 2010!

Stolen from my friend Lauren, who in turn stole it from her friend Korianne. Except I’m only doing 20. Bold and italics mean they kind of link together.

1. Have children.
2. Watch Jaws with my children.
3. Make sure my children have a well-rounded appreciation for film.
4. Make sure my children have a well-rounded appreciation of literature.
5. Find someone worth dying for that isn’t family.
6. Forever avoid getting into a scenario where I would actually have to die for said person since being alive with her seems far more fun.
7. Enjoy our lack of being dead by taking an excessively long roadtrip all around America at some point.
8. Write a comedy.
9. Write a horror movie.
10. Write a drama.
11. Write a family film.
12. Write a children’s book.
    
13. Sell all of the above (8-12).
14. Make a living by writing.
15. Keep my record for most movies watched in 24 hours eternally out of my little french whore’s reach.
16. Visit Australia.
17. Briefly visit Antartica (gotta hit all the continents).
18. Own 1,500 movies
19. Watch my sister get married.
20. Make Lauren try a chili cheese dog.

A.K.A. Three Genetic Traits My Kids Can Look Forward To

Do I talk about my hypothetical future kids far too often? Very possibly. But so help me, having kids before I die is like my number one life goal. It’s not my number one goal at this particular time in my life (or even on the radar as a reasonable option for the next 5-10 years), but definitely an eventual hope someday.

My comprehension of genetics is pretty minimal, but I do understand that, depending on the mother, some, none, or all of these traits may or may not carry over depending on various dominant and recessive genes and whatnot. But whatever. Not the point.

1. Absurdly slow aging

We Abels are like Benjamin Button, except instead of aging backwards, we just age forward really, really slowly. Almost to the point where it’s like we don’t age at all. Behold:

Age 17………………………….Age 19………………………….Age 21

That’s right. After age 17, we’re pretty much done. Presumably, by Age 30 I MAY be able to look 21, but that’s yet to be verified (my 30-year-old sister might pass for as old as 23).

Since I’m sure you’re wondering (if you’ve actually read this far) what sparked this topic at all, this trait is the big culprit. My beloved grandmother was coming to NC for a short stay so I took the day off from work to drive with my mother to the airport to pick up ol’ young  Mamie. On the way to the airport, we stopped at a Farmer’s Market to pick up some strawberries and the woman selling the strawberries made the apt judgment that we must be mother and son based on our blue eyes and dark hair.

She then proceeded to ask how old I was (not sure why?), to which I answered 22 – since that is how old I am. The woman acted understandably shocked saying she expected me to say 16 or 17, most likely because I look 16 or 17. I then prodded her to honestly answer how old she thought my mom was with the knowledge that I was 22. She said 38. My mom is 55. And apparently she looks like she would’ve had a kid at 16. I don’t know if I’m more amused or disgusted by that thought.

But yes: Abels don’t age. Not very much at least.

2. Mutant Matabolism

I eat like a damn monster. Lunch today was three slices of pizza. Dinner was a Tons of Fun Burger  (bun, pickles, cheese, 1/3rd lb. patty, special sauce, bun, cheese, 1/3rd lb. patty, pickles special sauce, bun) from Cheesecake Factory with a side of fries and a chocolate brownie sundae something or other (three triangular super-rich chocolate brownies and two scoops of ice cream) for dessert.

I am 6′1″ and weigh between 155 and 165 depending on the day. I am incapable of gaining weight. Period. It does not happen. If the mother of my children is anywhere near my size, my kids are going to be f*cking invisible. You know Samuel L. Jackson’s Mr. Glass character in Unbreakable? That will be my offspring if I somehow end up with some anorexic looking super-model.

I spend more money on food than anything else on a month to month basis, but you’d never know it from looking at me. I probably average 1,500 calories per meal, my job consists of sitting at a desk for 8 hours, and my general exercise regime in college consisted of walking from the parking lot to the classroom.

An added bonus of this is a seemingly small bladder, but I’m pretty sure it’s mostly the fact that my body just seems to hate holding on to anything remotely reminiscent of nutrients for longer than half an hour.

3. Blue eyes

No, these aren’t really a super-power. At all. But two things does not constitute a list, so I’m using this as a third.

Both of my parents have blue eyes. All of my siblings and I also have blue eyes. All of this is somehow despite the fact that it’s a waaaay recessive gene and my grandpa on my Dad’s side definitely has brown eyes (not sure about my Mom’s father since he passed when I was pretty young). Super power? No. But still kind of cool because I feel like we kicked genetics right in the balls on this one.

My friend Brian has a section of his blog where he blogs about everything he eats on a (mostly) daily basis. I have no logical reason why, but this concept fascinates me. I check it every single day because it’s a quick, easy stop on the interweb and I highly recommend you check it out – especially if you ever reach my levels of boredom late at night.

As for me, I’ve always, always been a picky eater. My meals consist of bread, meat, cheese, and likely either potato or corn related products. I eat like a billion calories per day. And that makes me happy. I like to think I’ve gotten slightly less picky as I’ve grown up, but seeing how I’m personally paying for the food I eat, I certainly don’t see any reason to waste perfectly good money on things I don’t enjoy (awful beer not included in that statement). But even in the event I’m NOT footing the bill, there are a few common food products I still won’t touch regardless of how hungry I am.

You know how your parents would always say, “There are starving children that would be happy to have that”? Well that had absolutely no sway over the fact that these foods clearly weren’t worth eating.

5.  Olives

What’s the point? The black ones trick me into thinking they’re grapes (which are awesome) at first glance and the green ones just make me wish they were jalapenos.

4. Guacamole

Seriously? Just look at it. That, my friend, might as well be a bowl full of snot.

3. Mustard

Not a food, I realize. Also not a good adjective to follow or start anything you might try to convince me to eat. Even thinking about the smell makes me gag.

2. Green Beans

Not that most vegetables taste legimately good to begin with, but at least broccoli, peas, and carrots are mostly flavorless. To me, green beans have a very specific “awful” flavor to them. I literally can’t stand them.

1. Onions

This one sort of shouldn’t count because I technically have an onion intolerance. Truth be told, I don’t mind how onions taste in the least bit, I just also don’t like throwing up or having temporary lock jaw so I don’t eat them. It’s not a full blown allergy in the sense that I could die from it, but there is definitely a medical connection to the fact that every time I have them, I get physically sick. Salsa and Asian food are my biggest weaknesses on this one, because I love both of those so much that it’s not that uncommon for me to just gorge myself on them regardless of how sick I may become.

A Retrospective Look Into My Childhood Toys

(Particularly Focusing on the Standard Plot Progression My Average
Action Figure Adventures Would Follow When I Was Eight Years Old)

Why? Because I was bored and it seemed like a fun, nostalgic topic. It just hit me how extraordinarily long this post is going to be. Enjoy.

The Hero: Storm Shadow (G.I. Joe)

Storm Shadow was by FAR the most badass G.I. Joe I owned. He’s a ninja, which, as far as my eight-year-old mind knew, was basically what I wanted to be when I grew up. Not to brag too much, but I had f*cking perfected G.I. Joe ninjitsu. So much so that I would get irritated when other children would play with them and display unbelievably inferior battles between the characters. Storm Shadow was my hero. I don’t think there’s a single toy he didn’t beat up at some point in my career as a professional 8-year-old.

The Damsel in Distress: Princess Leia (Star Wars)

It’s important to remember that in addition to your typical children’s shows I was also raised by Nintendo. Bowser capturing Princess Peach seemed to work as a good plot device for all four Super Mario games up to that point, so of course my little action figure adventures were going to steal it as the driving motivation for dear Storm Shadow.

It’s safe to say that 99% of my toys were male characters, since afterall, ass-kicking was the most important aspect of toys to an 8-year-old boy. Damsel in Distress options were pretty much limited to Princess Leia, Slave Girl Leia, Endor Leia, or Award Ceremony Leia (don’t worry, I had just as many versions of Luke and Han). Alternately, I could’ve used Mon Mothma, but, seriously, why the hell would Storm Shadow care about saving that?

The Sidekick: Raphael (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles)

Fact: Raphael is the best Ninja Turtle. He’s a complete asshole, he’s a rebel, and he’s the only Ninja Turtle that screams swear words through the streets of New York. But since he was an animal, clearly he never stood a chance with the damsel in distress because beastiality is gross. This limited him strictly to the role of “Super-Awesome Sidekick”.

Other Good Guys:

Every epic battle has to have casualties. The annoying fact that Stormtrooper/Cobra Soldier/Foot Soldier toys cost exactly the same as toys of REAL characters, meant the only way to have a truly epic battle was to Frankenstein all of these franshises together.

If a GI Joe toy looked cool (i.e. like a ninja) and didn’t have an obvious Cobra symbol anywhere on him, he was a good guy. Likewise, Michaelangelo and Donatello (the Ninja Turtles, that is) were also good guys albeit ones that may need to be sacrificed in the name of justice (and saving Princess Leia). Han, Chewie and Luke might also get in on the action. C-3PO has a 99% chance of dying.

The Villain: Some Sort of Super-Villain Club

Did you ever wonder if Jabba the Hutt, Cobra Commander, Darth Vader, Leonardo the Ninja Turtle (that’s right), Destro and the Jurassic Park Velociraptor were in cohorts? Well, wonder no more, because the answer is yes. Yes, they were. Most of them are clearly pure evil, but Leonardo is conflicted and the Velociraptor might eat his own men. They’re quite a ragtag bunch.

Other Bad Guys:

You may be thinking, “But you already have SIX lead villains.” Yes, I do. And you know what? I like epic endings and it is a scientific fact that Storm Shadow can kill every single one of those bastards in a six to one fight – not even factoring in a little help from Raphael. So of course every other toy I had that didn’t look cool enough to be a good guy was blade and foot fodder for the heroes. Other bad guys were everything from your typical Stormtooper to that stupid rabbit from Ninja Turtles.

The Bad Guys Base: GI Joe Headquarters

This is by far one of the coolest headquarters ever put to plastic. Yes, it has GI Joe written all over it, but just pretend the Super-Villain Club took over it and you’re good to go. This thing has far too many fun spring-loaded “explosive” parts to be the hideout for the good guys.

Possible Story Tweaks: What a twist!

1. Leonardo decides to stop being a douchebag and saves Raphael from death at the last second.

2. Raphael is in love with Princess Leia (clearly this is not allowed).

3. Princess Leia is in love with Raphael (Princess Leia is probably going to die via Storm Shadow…or maybe even Raphael).

4. IT’S A TARP!

5. Luke converts Darth Vader to the good side of the Force and they save the day together.

6. The velociraptor kills everyone.

7. The bad guys win.

8. Storm Shadow takes out everyone completely by himself – except Princess Leia because they are going to start a family.

Those are the only twists on the plot I can remember actually using. I could probably make some new ones up but that would defeat the purpose of this post.

And that is how I spent my downtime as an eight-year-old.

Today at work, my haircut was a topic far longer than it should’ve been. As such, I ended up promising a co-worker I’d write to break down my attitude towards my hair and just how little I care. How it’s easier to just cut all off, wait til it grows back, then cut it again.

I got a haircut yesterday because my hair was getting long enough to start annoying me. And so began Stage 1 of my hair’s neverending cycle. For the sake of this article, I’m currently 22, but the picture examples are from anytime in between age 19 and now. Partially because I hate having my picture taken so there’s not much to choose from as far as similar-angle shots go and partially because I stopped aging at all around Age 17.

Stage One: The “Six Foot Tall Six Year Old Boy” Stage

(picture taken as my Mother’s Christmas request a couple years back)

When I get a haircut I don’t bother with any of the fancy details. I’m not gonna gel it because spending more than 30 seconds on my hair makes me feel like a narcissistic prick. Likewise, I hate unnatural colors, so dying isn’t happening either. Every time I’ve gotten a haircut the most specific I’ve gotten was saying, “This (points at head), but 6 times shorter.” As you can imagine, this plus my inability to grow a full beard leaves me  looking like a 6′1″ six year old for at least a couple weeks since this is a very similar attitude a six year old might carry towards their hair.

Stage 2: The “I Might Believe You If You Told Me This Kid Was Old Enough to Drive” Stage

After a couple weeks, the hair has a little time to grow out of that “just cut for first grade picture day” look, resulting in me possibly pulling off Age 15 or so. It still take very minimal effort to maintain – maybe as much as ten seconds. Still looks sort of stupid-ish, but I’m just that lazy. Ear visability: 100%. R-rated Movie Ticket Carding Likelihood: 75%

Stage 3: The “I’m Fairly Positive That Kid Can Probably Drive” Stage.

At this stage, I officially look like I might be 16. Maybe even 17 or 18 if I’m lucky. Maintenance has jumped up to a bearable 15 seconds, and of all the stages my lazy-ass hair goes through, this is one is up there for me. Ears are still mostly visible at this point (maybe 70%), but prepare to say goodbye to them. Chances of me getting ID’d for an R-rated movie have dropped to 40%.

Stage 4: The “Hippy on the Rise” Stage

See, the problem with my hair is that it doesn’t grow long. It grows big. After Stage 3 everything starts to curl, resulting in a bit of a Jew-fro, which is a little odd since I’m like 75% German. Still, I’m a fan of this stage. I can pass for 18 or 19 with far fewer questions. Ear visability has dropped to about 30% and R-rated movie ticket carding is at it’s lowest probability (10%?). There are entirely too many percentages in this paragraph.

Stage 5: The “Oh My God, a Hippy” Stage.

I’m not posting a picture of this one. In fact, the only photographic evidence I seem to have of it is my Driver’s License, which I’m sure is really impressive for anyone that needs i.d. me, because clearly I found the strength within myself to stop smoking, shooting, and snorting [none of which I've ever done anyway] between the time I got this i.d. and the time you see me now. It looks terrible. If you want to see it, ask me to show you my license sometime, but there’s no way I’m scanning it for the internet.

So all in all, there you have it: The five stages of my hair. By the fifth stage it’s just a matter of seeing how long I can put up with it before it annoys me too much. I’d estimate I get my hair cut three times a year, tops. I just can’t bring myself to care that much.

I’m going to get carded for alcohol until I’m sixty. You enjoy your wrinkles Mr. and Ms. “I look my age”.

So, apparently Michael Jackson is auctioning off everything he’s ever owned. Why? I would assume he’s bankrupt or something, but I don’t care enough to do the research. The important thing is that there’s now a digital catalog for an upcoming auction that seems to include every knick-knack Michael Jackson ever bought.

I’ve always been a big supporter of Michael Jackson…’s music. Thriller. Billie Jean. Beat It. Blame It On the Boogie. Black or White. Smoothe Criminal. The guy has released some awesome material. I don’t know about his personal life and what did or didn’t happen involving young children and Jesus Juice, but flipping through this catalog made the accusations seem less surprising. Especially around page 121 when we start to see life-size statues like this fine gentleman:

Shortly after, he’s followed by some other unusual, artificial company:

Or worse yet, this little darling:

Now, I have to admit, when I started flipping through the catalog I was a little jealous. Mainly because MJ has/had an insane arcade collection.

I was talking to my friend Mike about our future mansions (see Mike’s here) at the time, and I quickly decided one rule for my own eventual arcade collection: Shooters and Racers only – mainly because most other arcade games seem unnecessary compared to home consoles. Then I saw MJ’s arcade collection included The Simpsons arcade game, which was undeniably the best game in all of Star City, Rocky Mount’s own roller skating rink. Of course, once I saw The Simpsons arcade game I was reminded of TMNT and decided those would be two amendments to my rule. Then I was later reminded of the X-Men and Avengers games and made another amendment to include all 4-player beat-em-ups. Then I made an amendment to allow for pinball machines. Then I made an amendment to allow for a DDR Machine. Then I made an amendment that I shouldn’t bother calling any ideas I come up with “rules” because I inevitably change them 37 times.

All that to say: Yes, for many, many pages I thought Michael Jackson was a pretty awesome guy. If he had all these things I wanted, surely he couldn’t be that bad, right? And then I got to the statue collection.

At first it was innocent: Batman, Superman, Spider-Man – still all cool, comicbook geek things I would not mind keeping in a basement (since I would have several basements) in my billion dollar Bullshish Embassy just so I could say I had them. But then as you get further into it you get to the inexplicably realistic wax models of people no one should have wax models of. Chefs, maids, nutcrackers, soldiers, butlers, children, old women, train conductors…and suddenly I wasn’t jealous of Michael Jackson anymore.

At all.

Love his music, but something is wrong with that guy.

The Super Bowl is the time of year when companies spend as much money advertising their big summer blockbuster popcorn flicks as it would cost me to make an entire movie from scratch. Here are my thoughts from least anticipated to most based on said advertisements (click the titles to see the videos):

9. Race to Witch Mountain

Alright, Mr. Dwayne Johnson. DOOM sucked, but would you PLEASE go back to making action movies anyway? Before I saw this trailer, I thought I had seen the original Race to Witch Mountain at some point in my childhood, but I don’t remember anything about aliens at all and apparently that’s the plot from the get-go in this one.

8. Star Trek

I think it’s official: Nothing will ever, ever successfully get me excited about anything related to Star Trek. I’m a huge fan of JJ Abram’s Lost, Cloverfield, and even Mission: Impossible 3, and I like a lot the cast members but I still just could not care less that this movie is coming out this summer. Will I see it? Probably, but only because that’s what I do.

7. Land of the Lost

The end of this trailer actually got a laugh out of me, but I’m not sure what to think of the rest. I’m still a fan of Will Ferrell’s brand of stupidity and I love dinosaurs, so I’m sure I’ll end up seeing this as well. I just hope the ads get more promising.

6. Fast and Furious

The original is not a good movie by any technical standards, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t entertained. The second one sort of sucked by ALL standards and I blame a large part of that on Vin Diesel’s disappearance. He’s back, so I’m sure I will be too.

5. Up

I’m having trouble getting excited about this movie. Pixar is possibly the greatest production studio in all of Hollywood right now if you look at their track record so I’m sure this will be one of the better movies of the summer. The ads themselves just haven’t quite hooked me yet.

4. Transformers: Rise of the Machines

The original Transformers was one of the most entertaining movies of 2007. Story? Who cares. GIANT ROBOTS. Considering they’re pumping this out just two years later, things look as explosive-filled as ever.

3. Monsters vs. Aliens

I’ve been excited for this one since I saw the full trailer before the Kung Fu Panda DVD. Dreamworks seems to be on the right track with their animation department, so I’ll be seeing this opening weekend.

2. Year One

Where the hell did this movie come from? I’ve heard NOTHING about it. Jack Black + Michael Cera looks like quite the winning combination to me. Unless the longer trailers start sucking, I’m officially pumped for this movie.

1. G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra

Okay, this didn’t actually air during the Super Bowl. Why? I have no idea because it was everything I wanted it to be. I was a huge, huge, huge fan of G.I. Joe when I was kid, and, amazingly, it looks like that might have gotten it right. If there were a midnight showing; I would be there.

As you should be well aware from Christmasfest, I love Christmas. My parents were kind enough to give me all their old string-lights since they have upgraded to net lights, so things were looking up for Christmas in Wilmington. After getting back home from Thanksgiving, my roommate Mike and I set to decorating our house while the others were at work. Oh what a wonderful treat they were in for when they got home.

Pictures taken by Chris and stolen from his Facebook.

I know. It’s beautiful, isn’t it? As if God himself ate some bad tinsel and vomited illumination all over our front yard. So in a sense, you could argue that Mike and I have god-like decorating skills. Or you could argue that we decorate like third graders with barely a sense of pattern or effort. You know, whichever.

There were originally lights around the window on the left, but trying to maximize our ghetto-ness we used duct tape to put everything up. Now, generally this would be a great idea as far as insuring the lights stayed where we put them, but when you factor in the nice, hefty layer of dust that consumes our house, we were essentially sticking duct tape to dirt which is less foundationally stable than you might assume. It also didn’t help that we nearly killed ourselves by balancing barstools on things to get those up there, so when they fell down the next day laziness won out and they stayed wherever they fell. I’d also like to draw attention to Mike’s beautifully designed “M” that’s on the bush for no particular reason.

To make sure that guests feel welcome, we have the ever-hospitable Gray Man keeping watch over our front porch by candle light. Originally we were also going to dress up a giant Spider-Man that Mike has and sit him in the chair to serve as our own web-slinging Santa Claus but things (read: costs of Santa Suit) fell through and that didn’t happen.

Here you can see our flawless wiring skills put to good use.

And lastly, the one part of our Christmas decorations that looks normal/half-decent: Our Christmas tree. I picked up this pre-lit fake for $35 at Wal-Mart. Totally worth it. It’s CHRISTMASTIME.

As I’ve briefly mentioned, I’ve been working on the stage production of It’s a Wonderful Life. Well, turns out this is both immensely tiring and surprisingly stressful since everything is live and on a very fast schedule. Long story short, when I was invited to the after party a couple days ago, I couldn’t say no. So I took my half-gallon (left) of Captain Morgan’s packed it in my car, ran the show, and headed to the party.

I ended up having a lot of fun, but that lot of fun also involved me being shit-faced for about three hours, and sobering up for an additional hour just to be safe. I drink with three rules:

1) I don’t drink unless other people are drinking.

I have an addictive personality, and I know that. Because of this, I don’t allow myself to touch alcohol unless other people are drinking. Period. I don’t hang out with anybody that drinks that much so this really only results in me drinking every month or two – which is perfectly fine with me. I don’t need it all, I just enjoy it on occasion.

2) I don’t drink unless I’m getting drunk/heavily buzzed (depending on my mood)

Alcohol tastes like shit. Even my personal favorite drink, rum and coke, while delicious compared to any other alcoholic drink I’ve had, is minimally tasty. I don’t subscribe to the idea that drinking makes you cool or the more you drink the cooler you are. I drink because it’s fun to feel good. It’s not exactly rocket science to figure out the amount I need to drink to feel how I want to feel, cram that into one or two Cokes (depending on my mood – my rum and cokes are always somewhere between triples and quadruples), and go on with the rest of the party.

3) I will not go NEAR a car until I’m absolutely positive I’m safe.

I don’t have a deathwish. Dying is not on my agenda. If I were tired and still not sober, I would sleep on someone’s couch or floor before I’d get in a motor vehicle. I don’t want to kill myself, and I certainly don’t want to kill anyone else. I’m not going to become one of those stories. This rule also means I never drink if I have ANYTHING to do the next day at all. If I drink, I wanna know I have an entire day to do nothing ahead of me.

Last night was a “drunk” night, so it took a good 4 hours from my initial two trip/quads in the first half hour before I was good. But it was totally worth it. My job on the crew consists of listening for cues on a headset for the entire show and pulling surprisingly heavy ropes for 3 hours to get backgrounds in and out. So basically, I never have time to talk to anyone. It was a good excuse to just sit around and shoot the shit.

So, all that to say, Alcohol is the Grinch that stole Christmasfest.