socialy retarded

Word porn for the disillusioned woman.

Posted on 07. Jul, 2010 by Derrick.

Remember when Vampires kicked ass? They were evil creatures of the night that swooped down and cleave you to pieces, sucking your blood and taking your life in some sadistic manner. Even when they were seductive they were still formidable and petrifying. Yeah well, that’s all gone now thanks to Twilight. Vampires have become neo-emo feeble men (or 17 year olds in this case). With winning smiles and fast cars. All around us the culture of the vampire has turned into the pussification of a very cool dude.

The only thing that I learned from reading Twilight is: Someday the perfect man will find you, the relationship will be effortless, and all you will ever need to be fulfilled will be to spend every waking moment with him.

I am well aware that grown women are as equally attracted to these books as are the teenagers they were meant for, but I had hoped that my generation of women would have had a few more life experiences that make it easier for them to draw the line between the reasonable and fantasy. Women my age have had their shares of disappointment in men, probably disappointed their share of men, and moved on and created a real and working life. As the popularity of this series continues to grow, the more and more my hope for women with a sense of reality becomes extinct.

The topic of Edward Cullen has touched off an endless and tumultuous dialogue between men and women. He has become what Leonardo DiCaprio’s character in Titanic was. A gleaming ideal (of what women want a man to be) and thehaul over the coals that men receive (because so few dudes even come close).

There are swoony yet self-lacerating posts on facebook like “upon reflection, I’ve realized that all the same reasons I salivate every time his beautiful, pale mug comes on screen are the same reasons that I continue to be disappointed by guys.” I fret that Edward is draining the lifeblood from relationships in the nonfictional realm of dull, flabby mortals. I Point to Facebook groups like “Twilight has ruined any chance I have at a realistic relationship,” Women are idealizing Edward to the point where real men can’t compete.

In other words: The pressures and demands of being a 21st century woman have a way of siphoning off the intensity of the most romantic unions. To be blunt: Life is a total grind, and our women are bored shitless. Edward Cullen has, for millions of passion-starved women, become the undead embodiment of everything the contemporary dude seems to have shed: danger, poetry, strength, speed, eternal devotion, and an insatiable hunger for the jugular. Meanwhile, the defanged mortal males of Earth, their rumps firmly planted in front of the flat-screen and their breath faintly fragrant of beer, have become, thanks to Edward, one big collective gofuck.

Because of this cultural phenomenon, I think it’s only just that as men, we can demand that women behave like our favorite fictional characters. Porn stars. If I have to be quietly passionate with abs of steal and the ability to play Bach’s 5th symphony, I want you to shriek my name and fuck me senseless like Jenna Jameson. If you get danger filled infatuation, I want to come home to Asia Carrera with a smile. Oh, and one last thing, a sandwich right after sex.

Its only fair.

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Bull shit

Posted on 21. Apr, 2010 by Derrick.

For some time many of us have wondered who is Jack Shit? We find ourselves at a loss when someone says, You dont know Jack Shit? Well, thanks to my efforts you can now respond in an intellectual way. Jack Shit is the only son of Awe Shit who married O Shit. In turn Jack Shit married Noe Shit.The couple had 6 children: Holie Shit, Giva Shit, Fulla Shit, Bull Shit, and the twins Deep Shit and Dip Shit. Deep Shit married Dumb Shit, a high school dropout. After 15 years, Jack and Noe Shit got divorced and she married Ted Sherlock and became Noe Shit Sherlock. Meanwhile, Dip Shit married Lota Shit and had a rather nervous disposition named Chicken Shit. Fulla Shit n Giva Shit married the Happens brothers in a double wedding. The newspaper invited everyone to the Shit-Happens wedding. Bull Shit traveled the world and returned home with an italian bride. Pisa Shit. So from now on, no one can
tell you that you dont know Jack Shit…

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Guinness and Cleo “the face”

Posted on 12. Feb, 2010 by Derrick.

I started a series of videos showing Guinness (my dog) and Cleo (roommates cat) who have fallin for each other. This is the second video of the series.

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Rub some snow on it

Posted on 22. Jan, 2010 by Derrick.

Thursday

I initially went into the Doctors office for a minor infection. After my mini physical, the doctor prescribed me an antibiotic and instructed me to quit drinking booze. As I was getting my pants on to leave, Doc commented on a contusion on my shin with a noticeable scab. I told him it wasn’t a big deal and was just painful when the dog’s tail smacks it. It’s a little swollen still and looks like someone took a divot out of my leg with a little melon-baller.

I explained to him the circumstances on how it happened. That I had a chance to snowboard 48 inches of fresh pow. That I turned on my toe edge to have cought my shin on a bolder hiding under the snow. That it hurt like a mother, but I didn’t cry(just complained).

At that moment, he grabbed my big toe and pushed it up towards the ceiling. I about sharted my pants it hurt so bad.

After prodding it some more with objects made from a medieval torture plan, He exclaimed that I had a large hematoma of the anterior tibialis. When I showed him the picture of my leg following the accident he said those are classic signs of anterior tibialis compartment syndrome. That’s when there is increased pressure within the muscular compartment. I told him “well duh, it looks like a grape fruit exploded in my shin.” This would be the reason I felt a slight numbing in my foot following the accident. My shin swelled so much it was cutting the circulation off.

He told me I was stupid for snowboarding 5 more runs after I had injured myself, I opinioned that I had only hurt myself. A small argument was then issued over the definition of “hurt vs injured.” Meanwhile the assistant had called over to Swedish medical center to find out if they could get me in for a CT, and referred me to an advanced orthopedic sports medicine specialist.

I made my appointment for Friday with the sports specialist guy and headed over to Swedish.

Once at Swedish, I headed for the radiology department and was met with about 15 forms to sign. They asked me if I was allergic to some chemical that I didn’t know of, so I marked “no”. That chemical was a contrast agent to help them evaluate if I’ve bruised my bone. When the contrast agent was injected, it made me feel all warm, like I was peeing myself. Very odd sensation.

The radiologist wouldn’t tell me if anything was wrong and said that they would send the results to the specialist.

Friday

15 more pages to fill out and I get to talk with sports Doc. He explains to me that I have trabecular microfracture of the lateral tribial platuau(TMLTP). I’m a little confused what the difference is between trabecular microfracture of the lateral tribial platuau and a bone bruise but then again I’m having a hard time keeping up with him in the first place.

This is what I gathered from him. Bone is comprised of small fibers which the body lays down in a kind of cross hatch pattern. It is this cross hatch pattern of fibers which then fills in with calcium to produce the strength inherent in a bone. When I struck my tibia, I broke some of these fibers. If I had broken enough of these fibers, my tibia would have separated and it would have been a fracture instead of a (TMLTP). He said that if I strike the area again after it is partially healed, I would be damaging new, poorly protected fibers that my body has just laid down. Thus, my body will have to stop its rebuilding process in the re-damaged area and remove these fibers and the associated calcium before it can resume rebuilding. That would add significantly increased healing time. He said that there isn’t a lot of current evidence, but in his opinion, if I don’t give it a couple months that I may have some degenerative tissue changes in that area that could lead to future ACL injuries. He also thinks that without proper rest that something like this can lead to arthritis of the joint near the affected area.

ACL injuries? Arthritis? Posible longer healing times? I was ashen and then he got to the point I was trying to avoid.

He is also concerned that my constant use of my legs has created a possible lateral tear of the meniscus. He wanted me to do another MRI to confirm if I needed a partial meniscetomy or if rehab would be enough. If I had the surgery it would require a 2-4 week recovery, and then a brace for the rest of the season.

Unfortunately only time will tell. His recommendation : Give it till the beginning of march and do a CT/MRI again to see what it looks like. If better, then I can resume snowboarding and triathlon training. If my tibia isn’t healed by then, he wants me to give it 6 months to recover. This would be a total avoidance of all activities (July time frame). This treatment would kill my snowboarding season, it would kill the Leadville 100, it would kill the MS 150, and it would kill any chances I have to do a half Ironman. It would essentially kill me. 6 months without being active??? What the hell am I going to do?

As far as doing a meniscetomy, If I can endure the pain (I have for years) I’m not doing any surgery that I can put off. However if I don’t do anything about it, he said that it can become complicated to try and fix years down the road.

The good news. I get to ride my road bike all I want and swim all I want for the next 6 weeks.

Sadly, I’m going to miss somewhere around 8 days of snowboarding/skiing. I won’t be able to make my 30 days on the slopes like I had wanted. I’m not sure how missing 6 weeks of running is going to affect my training. Lastly, Guinness is getting pleasantly plump and I can’t take him on any hikes in the next month and a half.

But if I don’t lay off my leg, He may prescribe 6 months of rest. I’d rather him chop my leg off.

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10 long years of Insufferable bliss

Posted on 31. Dec, 2009 by Derrick.

Browsing around the internet today and ran across another bloggers decade in review. I thought it was going to be some boring “what happened in history” kinda blog, but I didn’t expect it to be an introspective examination. It was fun to read and made me think about my own decade in review

• I rung in this decade with a flurry. Flew to NYC on a whim for New Years Y2k. Almost died in the cab. nearly got arrested by a Brooklyn cop. Drank a ton of other peoples booze. Stripped at a club. Flashed my PA to about 4 thousand New York citizens. Climbed to the top of the statue of liberty, and empire state building. Didn’t sleep a wink. All in a 24 hour time period.
• Experienced my first real love, was infatuated with everything about her.
• Became a personal trainer and realized that morbidly obese people hate skinny people.
• Played a video game online for hours and hours with complete strangers until they became good friends. Descent 3 was my first FPS that made me want to blow shit up. Spent months planning video game parties, and thousands of dollars flying to them.
• Found out that College councilors are full of shit and a degree in Nutrition is worthless.
• Visited Phoenix in January, fell in love with it. Moved to Phoenix in May and regretted my decision.
• Made $75k when I turned 24. didn’t save a dime of it.
• Bought my first big boy boat. A Capri 26. I loved that boat
• Got married young to my college sweetheart. She found my best friend more appealing and we were divorced within 2 years. She sold my boat for half its worth and sent me a check for half of that.
• Found true friends, lost some fake ones.
• Bulked up to about 225 lbs
• Realized that I’m socially retarded and I could use a break light for my mouth.
• Lost my Grandmother.
• Traveled to Europe, Belize, Bahamas, and Mexico
• spent my first 5 years trying to act 30 and spent my last 5 years trying to get it back by acting 21
• Lost my Grandfather
• Rode my bike down the PCH, saw the most amazing scenery.
• Tried to get married for the second time, but stopped short of “I do”
• Realized that being alone is a perfectly acceptable alternative to the brainless existence of being in a relationship that you receive nothing back from.
• Rediscovered my love for the outdoors
• Re-connected with the best sister of all time
• Moved back to Colorado, the finest state in the union.
• Discovered my love for beer
• Lost my best friend, and confidant, my Father.
• Lost 40 lbs and Discovered the mind numbing sport of Triathlons.
• Made $40k when I turned 29 (being underemployed sucks).
• Moved in with a longtime BFF and rediscovered my love for video games.
• Got the gift of my first Brother.

Realized that I’m comfortable in my own skin, I can be who I want to be with no pretenses. I’m still as arrogant as I was ringing in the New Year over a decade ago, but now I’m not anxious to get on with my life. I’ve stopped to smell the roses.

Thanks to those of you who have stuck with me through this past 10 years. It’s been a hell of a ride. I’m looking forward to the next 10. Riding across the US. Climbing k2. Hiking the Nile up to Ethiopia. Most of all, cultivating and marinating those relationships that have made my life so rich.

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The morning after wet wipe

Posted on 15. Dec, 2009 by Derrick.

We’ve all been there. We’ve all kicked back in our offices and suddenly felt something brewing.  As much as we try to persuade ourselves otherwise, the work shit is inevitable.

I’m always pooping in public restrooms. Something passed down from my father. The man was an innovator in public shitting. When I was a child, we would pull over in many a public shitters, mostly on the way to skiing. He was just a master, unwittingly teaching his young son in the art of pooping when necessary.

I’ve since taken my father’s teachings and perfected them as an art form. The grasshopper has become the master. All of us at some time in our life had hot wings and beer the night before a work day.

I wanted to pass down to other fellas one secret that has eluded some of the best of us. How to combat “ring sting”. Wet Wipes are amazing when at home, but when caught in the wild, you must improvise.

Step one… Dispense 3 sheets of paper towel.

Step two, Wet the first paper towel.

and put a dab(no larger then 1/4th an inch) of soap on it.

Wet the second paper towel, but leave this one without any soap.

Align all three towels in a convenient row.

The steps are simple.

1. SHIT
2. Then use paper towel number 1, the one with the hand soap. A small lathering motion is required.
3. Use paper towel number 2. getting rid of excess soap is important.
4. Paper towel 2 is a dry towel, This is used to simply dab. Never wipe with a paper towel, it will leave you chaffed and angry for the rest of the day.
5. Final step is to use the provided toilet paper to wipe any excess moisture.

This will leave you with an amazingly refreshed feeling. Allowing you to go back to your cubical smiling and never with a sour face.

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