Drunken Recollection… Instant Hangover TV

First, turn off the sound to this video.  It’s completely irrelevant to the experience (and that’s how I originally saw it).  Now pretend you’re bombed:

I was at one of my local hangouts, pounding back a few ol’ El Millerlitos, when this damn CNBC show caught my eye on the table’s flat screen.  It wasn’t this particular segment, but what I bore witness to was a brain derailment.  She was pretty enough on her own (she being Carmen Wong-Ulrich, a.k.a. The Great American Mixing Pot), but what happens at the 1:10 mark persisted for what seemed like ten minutes.  At the time of the inebriation, I sat in stunned disbelief and nausea because I couldn’t tell if the camera was moving or the background.  And what’s with the insane amount of jarring cuts!

Might be fun to watch high, though…

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Groundhogs, Explosions, And A Lack Of Clothes

It first occurred to me in Pennsylvania.  Punxsutawney, to be exact.  Some family and friends went there two winters ago for the 30th birthday of my sister, Becky.  (Sorry for letting the groundhog out of the bag…)
 
Her birthday falls on Groundhog Day, and the festivities at Gobbler’s Knob (um, yep, that’s it name) were surprisingly warm for it being so cold.  The people were nice at the Walmart we parked at and on the bus.  The grounds were cleared of fresh snow and already covered in hay which prevented soaking wet feet. 
I don’t get up at 5am for much of anything other than a flight, but I’m glad we awakened on time in order to witness this:
Catch a sparkler on your tongue!
Catch a sparkler on your tongue!

A fireworks display in the morning snow.

Normally, I’m not a big fan of the big booms on the Fourth (the mini-booms at my uncle’s house are a blast), but when they’re unexpected, they can be beautiful.  A similar feeling snuck up on me last night on Veteran’s Day.  I stayed at work a little later to avoid traffic… and read blogs.  Sometimes my wireless Internet doesn’t work at home because my neighbor turns it off, or starts fiddling with it somehow – asshole (j/k if you read this, which you probably don’t, so j/k).

On the freeway, I passed a mall presenting a full-fledged spectacular, grand finale and all (I stopped at a Best Buy – what’s wrong with me?)  I couldn’t stop smiling.  The music on the radio even seemed to mesh with the flashing and flaring chemicals (seriously, what’s wrong with me?)  It was… unexpected.

This made me realize that surprises are what it’s all about.  Like hearing Christmas music on the radio the day after Halloween.  It happens every year, but I forget that it’s going to happen and I actually enjoy it.  (Although I do grow sick of it well before Thanksgiving, and I feel sick for admitting this all – damn happy music.)

Or it’s just like going to a party where you don’t expect to meet anyone of interest (whichever path of interest you choose), and you gain an insight or catch an STD.  Regardless, it’s still a fun surprise!

In closing, it’s the same way with nudity.  If I go to the strip club, I’m paying for the fireworks and Christmas music.  But in public… on a Tuesday… in the rain – huzzah!  At a concert… when changing into another shirt – huzzah!  Or through my apartment window, into yours, across the alley.  Your lights are on.  Mine are off.  Huzzah…