9.28.2010

See Those Woods. Don't Go There.


So this weekend was family weekend at my school, so my parents decided to make a visit. Upon fifteen minutes before their arrival, I had just started cleaning my place. This involved my roommates and I throwing most of our clothes into closets, febrezing everything, and stealing the janitor's utility vacuum. All and all I say we did a fairly okay job. Our parents were actually pretty impressed with our living arrangements. And so the imbibing of cheap alcohol began. Stories of the old college days were told. Competitions were made. There was some laughter and there was some disappointment. This was all before seven o' clock, and naturally we ran out of booze. So my father and I went to the local super chain establishment to purchase some more beer and snacks. Well the fuckers at this establishment would not allow my dad to purchase a 30 rack of beer, since I was underage and with him. Ridiculous right. For those who know my father, know he wouldn't stand for this. So he demanded to see the manager, and after a half hour of seeing five people who claimed to be managers we were finally left with "It is corporate policy". Well at least we got a free bag of chips for our efforts. And the drinking continued.

I took my parents to a local dive bar, which serves the best wings ever in my opinion. My parents enjoyed their meals, but eventually my mom became annoyed with drunk townies. So before she could say anything to them, my dad and I got her out of there. We went to another bar, where other college students and their parents had met up. I left my parents to socialize with my other friend's parents, so that we could creep away and rip the worst shots imaginable (all on their tab). You know that feeling you had when you were a kid at a grown-up party, and you and the other kids all snuck behind the bar to have a sip of beer just to know what it tasted like? I was having that feeling all night. The folks talked, and we had everything from slippery nipples to four horsemen. Good times. So as the night came to a close, the parents went back to their respective hotels and we hung around until closing. I walked back to a friends house to see what was going on there, and ended up missing the drunk bus back to my place. So I stayed there for a while, debating whether or not to take the long journey home.

Note: I am smashed at this point.

The thought of my own bed vs. piss stained couch drove me to take a quest that turned into an interesting story. It was about three in the morning when I left to go back. It was a perfect night out. The sky was clear, the moon was full, the temperature was comfortable. I got back to the west side of campus, which is the opposite side of where I live. Drunk me then decided that it must be quicker to take a "short cut" through the Allegany forest then to take the conventional path back. I have a message for drunk me. Fuck you, your an idiot. Any person with any sort of wit would not take this way because 1. it's the wilderness, 2. it leads nowhere near your apartment. And yet I went on. As I walked, I thought to myself this wasn't that bad. I looked up at the sky and viewed the picturesque scene of the full moon through the tree branches as the cool night breeze blew through them. Drunk me was kind of enjoying himself. Then everything went to shit. It had seemed drunk me was too busy looking up at the sky to notice that he had begun to stray from the only path that would lead out of the woods. Upon realizing this, things were not as cool anymore. I noticed how dark it really was and that I really had no clue where I was. Attempting to stay calm was the only thing to do, but just like out of a classic movie, something moved in the bush right next to me and scared the shitpiss out of me. I bolted so fast that I didn't care if it was going in the right direction. Then bam. I ran face first into a decently large tree. I don't know if I was actually knocked out. All I know was I came through on the ground and that my face felt like Andre the Giant stepped on it. I then hurried to stand up, in fear that I might get ticks in my hair. One of my friends had a very bad experience with ticks once, so i don't take them lightly. Fuck you ticks.

So anyway, my phone is dead (of-course), so I can't call anyone to help me if i wanted to. I keep walking in a direction that I hope leads towards the path and away from the bush monster. Finally, at dawn, i emerge from the woods. The first thing I notice is that I am literally four feet from the spot where I started my journey. Frustrated and hungover, I drag my feet down the conventional path towards my home. I look back at the woods with a new found appreciation and absolute utter hatred for the cruel mistress that is nature. I tell my parents this story the next night at the bar. My mother yells at me. My father laughs and says "I hope that doesn't happen again tonight". He buys me a beer...

9.12.2010

Where Have I Been.


My apologies for not updating this blog recently. I have been really busy lately with moving into my new place (still haven't finished unpacking), school, and rugby. But now, because of yesterday's events, I can finally get back to giving dumbassia the attention that it deserves. I have some new ideas that hopefully will entertain the 3 or 4 of you people who actually follow this blog, but first let me explain what happened to me yesterday. Ok so it was my rugby team's first league match of the season, and for those of you who don't know, rugby is a sport that has a lot of physical contact and no protective gear whatsoever. So i played for a good portion of the game, and made a couple good hits. What I really wanted though was to score points. With five minutes left in the game, my coach asks me if I want to go back in, so of course i say yes. And I got passed a perfect pass, literally 6 feet from the try line. I juke the first defender, and run up the middle, then wham. Two big guys hit me from both sides of my body, and then both fall on top of me to make sure that I am definitely down.

I separated my shoulder, which I didn't think was that big of a deal. So while my team is dragging my broken body off the field, I keep yelling at the guys to just pop it back into place. Well the EMTs there wouldn't let anyone do it, and when I asked them to do it, they responded with "were not certified". They call an ambulance (which took forty five minutes to get there), and brought me to a hospital where they assure me someone will fix my shoulder. They wheel me into a bed next to these redneck guys, who asked me about my injury, which therefore led to me hearing about fucking every single scar they had on their bodies....(One guy did break both his collar bones, which is semi-impressive). After an hour, I get X rays taken, but I don't see the point since in my mind I figured all they need to do is pop my shoulder back into place and send me on my merry fucking way. Wrong.

They send me back to the bed, waiting for someone to just pop my shoulder in and end the pain. Well the doctor every twenty minutes would make brief visits to me and explain to me what was going on. He would say everything to me really calmly and then just leave me before I could ask any questions. Heres the gist of it.

Visit #1
Doc: Ok, so you obviously hurt your shoulder......Did anyone give you an X Ray? I'll go check on that.
Me: Ok.

Visit #2
Doc: Well from the look of things you may have fractured your collar bone ( walks quickly away before I can say anything)

Visit #3
Doc: Its seems you have a Third degree shoulder dislocation.
Me: Is that bad?
Doc: Eh it's pretty bad. Not as bad as Fourth degree. Hell your arm would be flailing all over the place. Don't even get me started about Fifth Degree.
Me: O ok. Can you pop it back in?
Doc: We can, but that would be risky......so you may need surgery.
Me.: What?!
Redneck Guy Sitting Next To Me: Dude that is some bullshit.
(Doc walks away)

At this point I was really pist off, since I was still in pain. No one at this hospital was really attempting to help. They kept asking me the same questions over and over again about how "on a scale of 1 to 10 how much pain are you in?" I said 10 every time! The redneck guy next to me then started telling me about his "sweet telemarketing job", which he only does for "booze and grass money". He also mentioned how if anyone gave him a hard time on the phone, he could easily track em down and show em a thing or two about being polite. This disturbed me greatly and made me feel much better about outsourcing to India.

Visit #4
Doc: Well we finally figured out what to do with you. We are going to put your arm in a sling and give you a pain killer. Then you can leave.
Me: Um ok. Are you going to fix my shoulder?
Doc: We could, but were going to have you make an appointment with a orthopedic surgeon down the road. So on Monday you can go talk to him. Here is your pill. Have a good day champ.

I spent four hours at that hospital, lying in pain, and listening to the tales of a redneck. Not only was almost absolutely nothing done for me at this hospital, but at this very moment, almost twenty four hours later, my shoulder is still popped out. So because of this I'll probably have a lot more free time on my hands, and therefore will be able to rant to you (the viewer of this blog) about about other dumb things in my life. So enjoy.

Where Have I Been.

9.07.2010

Michael Tribute

Michael Tribute from Dumbassia on Vimeo.



In honor of Michael's 21st Birthday, I put this video of random footage together for him. The quality is kinda shitty but I figured I hadn't put a video out in a while so I might as well do something. Happy Birthday Mike. Buy me booze.