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I dunno what it is about me but white trash events seem to always occur around me. I wake up at another ungodly hour, this time 9:15 am, wander around for an hour before calling Jake and heading into the city to do some work at the motorcycle shop. At around noon or so one of our regulars, Mike, comes in and says his Vulcan is acting a bit jumpy would Jake look at it. Then he comes over to me and asks if I'm still taking requests for custom helmet paint jobs, I tell him yeah and he pulls out this pretty fucking cool dragon sketch which he wants to match his new Harley that is still going through a rebuild at our shop. Jake goes outside to bring the Vulcan in and as he goes out there he catches a guy on the bike who is trying very badly to hotwire it.
Despite wearing his pink and sparkly lettered I'm A Pretty Princess t-shirt, Jake is quite the large and burly straight man, and he punched the guy in the jaw and dragged him off the bike as he yelled for us to call the cops. All in all, lamely attempted motorcycle thieving isn't white trash but the fact that this fucking genius didn't have on a shirt and wore flip flips was very white trash indeed. I wouldn't be surprised if his first name contained two words and one of them was Bob.
Next I go to the Roller Rink in Arnold because I've worked out a weird deal with the people who run it and sometimes, usually twice a week, if I stop by early and give them an extra dollar they'll let me skate in there by myself. But because I have my iPod and they're evil fuckers they like to try and torture me by playing their weird ass skating mix music loud as to take me out of my weird skating groove. Today they did it by playing Celine Dion. First it was the horrific My Heart Will Go On which then led to The Power of Love and ended with me screaming for them to turn it off during Beauty And The Beast. I mean, seriously. Celine Dion and skating? That shit shouldn't go down unless you're fucking ice skating and wearing a lame ass poofy skirt and your partner is a gay man whom you married and are in severe denial that he's fucking gay in the first place.
I'm trying to think of any Canadian musicians that I like. Bryan Adams sucks ass. Robin Hood is lame as hell except for Mel Brooks Men In Tights version. Hmm. Hot Hot Heat is good. Canadian ska is salvageable. Maybe the Canadians are too decent and nice of a people to have good music? It wouldn't surprise me if you have to be an asshole to make good music. Hey, don't get me wrong. Other than athletes the most frequent "type" of woman that I tend to date are musicians. Who have mostly been assholes. Except for the few who were classical musicians and stuff. Which reminds me, my ex-gf from Chicago, Astrid the hot Greek violinist whose mother tried to stuff me with food every time I saw her is coming to visit me soon. Actually she's in town for some concert thing. I should look that up. lol. Michi wants to go. I endorse going just to stare at Astrid. I swear, Greek women... so hot. It's painful almost. Just for the hell of it I'm going to link a song from a group called Bond who totally prove my theory that 90% of the chicks who play string instruments are unbelievably attractive. Bond is a group of four conservatory trained women who play various classical music pieces but mix them up to give the songs a techno edge. A lot of hardcore classical music fans might consider this a type of evil blasphemy but I think it's fucking creative as hell. Plus it's an excellent way to get people who would normally hold a grudge against classical music to give it a chance.
Quixote by Bond:
http://s55.yousendit.com/d.aspx?id=33Z5TS1KQ59BP26ANCLGDG2L37
After skating I went to the bar and did some preparation work and worked a little during the lunch rush before heading over to school. I had a math test which went surprisingly well. But I'm walking downstairs to leave after I finish taking it and there's this yell that probably sounded similar to mine on being forced to listen to Celine three times in a row and a furry thing scurries past me. The secretary shouts my name because our school is fucking tiny and everyone knows each other and she's all like, "Nic! Catch it! But don't get bit!" rofl. And I'm thinking that those two fucking things don't go well together. I can catch it or I can avoid getting bit but no fucking way can I do both. My brain is not that skilled and neither are my hands.
There's more shrieking in a few seconds and drawn by my morbid curiosity, I go around the corner where I discover the furry thing is a raccoon which is now in our EMT classroom freaking out the teacher and the students. It's hissing and sort of bounding around and I'm like, "Everyone get the fuck out!" And because I'm a fucking dyke in boots they listen. lol. Actually, they probably listened because people in Missouri know not to fuck with no damn raccoon. Psycho ass and diseased filled mother fucking creatures. Seriously. They're crazy as fuck. You don't mess with them.
EMT room was abandoned and they went to go have class in an empty science lab while I stared at the raccoon wandering around the prop ambulance they have in the room for the EMT students to study in. Which is actually pretty kick ass if you think about it, you know? Then Animal Control comes by and I leave but not before one of the guys recognizes me from all the times he's been called to my Mom's white trash school which has a problem with snakes getting into it.
Now I'm waiting for Michi to finish getting ready so we can go to late night skate. Wheeee. Since we can't wear iPods and talk at the same time I'm hoping they don't try to torture people with Celine again. Michi is weirdly nervous for some reason but I told her I'll protect her. lol. Yeah. I'm so butch. I seriously cannot fight though. I mean, for some perverse reason people think I can fight but I can't. Maybe it's how I carry myself? I dunno. Part of me is glad because I think the facade that I can fight keeps me from getting bothered but at the same time I think it also makes certain psycho dykes want to actually try fighting me. My first reaction to that is to like, kick them in the shins and run away as fast as I can. lol. Which is actually probably a pretty good response, I think.
I doubt I'll have to throw down in a roller rink though. Especially over my cute and shy gf. Unless those bitches play fucking Celine three times in a row again. Then it's on, me being a not so secret wuss or not. lol. Hell yeah! Or whatever. Yay. Michi is ready to go.
Thus I type off.
Despite wearing his pink and sparkly lettered I'm A Pretty Princess t-shirt, Jake is quite the large and burly straight man, and he punched the guy in the jaw and dragged him off the bike as he yelled for us to call the cops. All in all, lamely attempted motorcycle thieving isn't white trash but the fact that this fucking genius didn't have on a shirt and wore flip flips was very white trash indeed. I wouldn't be surprised if his first name contained two words and one of them was Bob.
Next I go to the Roller Rink in Arnold because I've worked out a weird deal with the people who run it and sometimes, usually twice a week, if I stop by early and give them an extra dollar they'll let me skate in there by myself. But because I have my iPod and they're evil fuckers they like to try and torture me by playing their weird ass skating mix music loud as to take me out of my weird skating groove. Today they did it by playing Celine Dion. First it was the horrific My Heart Will Go On which then led to The Power of Love and ended with me screaming for them to turn it off during Beauty And The Beast. I mean, seriously. Celine Dion and skating? That shit shouldn't go down unless you're fucking ice skating and wearing a lame ass poofy skirt and your partner is a gay man whom you married and are in severe denial that he's fucking gay in the first place.
I'm trying to think of any Canadian musicians that I like. Bryan Adams sucks ass. Robin Hood is lame as hell except for Mel Brooks Men In Tights version. Hmm. Hot Hot Heat is good. Canadian ska is salvageable. Maybe the Canadians are too decent and nice of a people to have good music? It wouldn't surprise me if you have to be an asshole to make good music. Hey, don't get me wrong. Other than athletes the most frequent "type" of woman that I tend to date are musicians. Who have mostly been assholes. Except for the few who were classical musicians and stuff. Which reminds me, my ex-gf from Chicago, Astrid the hot Greek violinist whose mother tried to stuff me with food every time I saw her is coming to visit me soon. Actually she's in town for some concert thing. I should look that up. lol. Michi wants to go. I endorse going just to stare at Astrid. I swear, Greek women... so hot. It's painful almost. Just for the hell of it I'm going to link a song from a group called Bond who totally prove my theory that 90% of the chicks who play string instruments are unbelievably attractive. Bond is a group of four conservatory trained women who play various classical music pieces but mix them up to give the songs a techno edge. A lot of hardcore classical music fans might consider this a type of evil blasphemy but I think it's fucking creative as hell. Plus it's an excellent way to get people who would normally hold a grudge against classical music to give it a chance.
Quixote by Bond:
http://s55.yousendit.com/d.aspx?id=33Z5TS1KQ59BP26ANCLGDG2L37
After skating I went to the bar and did some preparation work and worked a little during the lunch rush before heading over to school. I had a math test which went surprisingly well. But I'm walking downstairs to leave after I finish taking it and there's this yell that probably sounded similar to mine on being forced to listen to Celine three times in a row and a furry thing scurries past me. The secretary shouts my name because our school is fucking tiny and everyone knows each other and she's all like, "Nic! Catch it! But don't get bit!" rofl. And I'm thinking that those two fucking things don't go well together. I can catch it or I can avoid getting bit but no fucking way can I do both. My brain is not that skilled and neither are my hands.
There's more shrieking in a few seconds and drawn by my morbid curiosity, I go around the corner where I discover the furry thing is a raccoon which is now in our EMT classroom freaking out the teacher and the students. It's hissing and sort of bounding around and I'm like, "Everyone get the fuck out!" And because I'm a fucking dyke in boots they listen. lol. Actually, they probably listened because people in Missouri know not to fuck with no damn raccoon. Psycho ass and diseased filled mother fucking creatures. Seriously. They're crazy as fuck. You don't mess with them.
EMT room was abandoned and they went to go have class in an empty science lab while I stared at the raccoon wandering around the prop ambulance they have in the room for the EMT students to study in. Which is actually pretty kick ass if you think about it, you know? Then Animal Control comes by and I leave but not before one of the guys recognizes me from all the times he's been called to my Mom's white trash school which has a problem with snakes getting into it.
Now I'm waiting for Michi to finish getting ready so we can go to late night skate. Wheeee. Since we can't wear iPods and talk at the same time I'm hoping they don't try to torture people with Celine again. Michi is weirdly nervous for some reason but I told her I'll protect her. lol. Yeah. I'm so butch. I seriously cannot fight though. I mean, for some perverse reason people think I can fight but I can't. Maybe it's how I carry myself? I dunno. Part of me is glad because I think the facade that I can fight keeps me from getting bothered but at the same time I think it also makes certain psycho dykes want to actually try fighting me. My first reaction to that is to like, kick them in the shins and run away as fast as I can. lol. Which is actually probably a pretty good response, I think.
I doubt I'll have to throw down in a roller rink though. Especially over my cute and shy gf. Unless those bitches play fucking Celine three times in a row again. Then it's on, me being a not so secret wuss or not. lol. Hell yeah! Or whatever. Yay. Michi is ready to go.
Thus I type off.
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If you can get her best of album, you can hear some really good music.
And Alanis Morisette was Canadian, now a US citizen.
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*sigh*
*g*
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Ditto.