The Guru On The Mountain

This is an old story that’s been told a thousand different ways. I recently heard it on the radio when the host was speaking about sharing wisdom with closed minds.

A young man from New York travels to Tibet determined to learn the wisdom of the ages. After quitting his job, selling all his worldly processions and saying goodbye to his friends and family, he sets out to find a guru that will show him the light.

While traveling through the wilderness he comes upon a small shack at the foot of a large mountain. There is a small stream that works its way around the mountain and sitting beside this stream he comes upon the “old man of the mountain”.

The man is dressed in simple garb, he has a long gray beard that falls to the top of his tattered sandals. One look at the man and the traveler is certain he has the truth he’s been searching for.

Traveler: “Master, master! I’ve come a long way in search of enlightenment. Do you know what wisdom is master?”

Old Man: “Why yes my son, I know where you will find wisdom. Wisdom lies at the top of this mountain. If you go there you will find the truth you so desire. Once you reach the summit you must sit and meditate in silence, only after long self reflection will you become wise.”

Immediately the traveler sets off for the top of the mountain. After walking for several days he reaches the top and finds a suitable clearing for meditation. The traveler ends up staying on the mountain for several years, living off of bark, grass, bugs and whatever else he can find.

The traveler spends his winters near death as the temperature plummets and the howling wind tears at his clothes. It’s not until his fifth summer that he decides it’s time to travel back down the mountain.

When the old man sees the traveler again he can hardly recognize him. He has aged twenty years and looks near death. The remains of his clothing hang loosely on his bony frame. His face is covered in wrinkles and his beard has grown down to his waist.

Traveler: “Master, master! I found wisdom master! But first I must know master, what do you think wisdom is?”

Old Man: “Well my Son, wisdom is to always be humble and pious. To be cordial to your fellow man. To respect your elders and to treat others as you would like to be treated.”

Traveler: “What a crock of shit old man! You’re an asshole. Wisdom lies in the river you nutty old bastard. I’m getting the hell out of here, screw you!”

Old Man: “Yes, you’re right my son, you’re right”



Fire Friendly FEMA Grants

Members of the local Gilead Fire Department were thrilled today to receive a highly anticipated five million dollar FEMA grant. The grant is part of the Obama administration’s latest effort to outfit fire departments nationwide with the tools necessary to perform in the face of modern day threats.

While much of the grant will be used for updating and replacing badly needed equipment, an unprecedented two million dollars has been earmarked for a highly controversial mirror replacement program. Spec Ops Chief Carol Quigley was unavailable for comment but has assured the public that this program will be an invaluable boost to Firefighter moral.

Our investigators were able to interview several department members during a recent training seminar being held at the Smokey Mountain ropes factory. Firefighter Adam Weishaupt explained that over the past ten years the number of spontaneous pose downs had dropped to dangerous new levels and many firefighters were now confused on how to wear their superfluous gear. How do you know if your gear looks cool if you can’t even see yourself in the mirror?

When asked what he thought about the sudden increase in mirrors around the station, FF William Cooper was ecstatic.

“The wall to wall mirrors in the bay give me a great opportunity to observe my biceps during equipment check but the ones they placed inside the bathroom stalls are what’s really making a difference. Now when I have to go, I don’t even bother wearing a t-shirt. I was blown away the first time I saw the separation I could achieve in my delts when bearing down on a mean shit”.

Some critics have warned that blowback from the new program could prove more costly than the initial boosts in moral. City council member and local business owner Peachy Carnahan cited concern that the new mirrors could push egos to dangerous new levels.

“When you put a bunch of Type A folks in the same house for 24hrs at a time, egos are gonna clash. Surround these people with state of the art mirrors that keep them on a pedestal 24/7 and we’re talking Chernobyl.”

Most firefighters we talked to were extremely excited about the new program but some did point out possible flaws. Fire Captain Arthur Koestler was particularly concerned with the lack of new mirrors inside the rigs.

“The time when a mirror is most critical is just before you jump off that unit. When I can’t get that one last look at myself before going to battle then frankly, I feel naked.”

Craig Fugate, head of FEMA or as he calls it “Iron Maiden”, hopes this will be just the beginning of a brand new push for Fire Department readiness.

“There’s only so much money you can put towards purchasing Bearcats for podunk police department before it starts looking ridiculous. It was time for us to find new ways of utilizing tax payer dollars without risking a decrease in budget.”

Playscape Sharts: A Cautionary Tale

Took my boy over to the new indoor play center on Howard Lane the other day. To be honest, it seemed a bit run down and dingy for a brand new establishment but we decided to give it a go anyway. It only cost six bucks to get in and that included a brand new pair of socks for the boy.

There was a massive indoor obstacle course complete with slides, balance beams and various other medieval torture devices. I felt a tad large for the course but James was having a ball so I soldiered on and followed behind him.

Getting to the top of the slide proved a cumbersome act for a broad shouldered man such as myself. I was just lifting my leg towards my final purchase point when disaster struck. At the time I wasn’t certain whether it was a fart or a shart but I feared the worst.

Now this wasn’t the first time I shit my pants and it certainly won’t be the last, in a situation like this you have to avoid panic at all costs. I knew I had to get to a bathroom immediately so I could access the damage but it wasn’t gonna be easy.

The slide was now too dangerous an option so I grabbed James close and made my way back out the way we came. I passed several moms on the way down that seemed to sense or maybe smell that something was awry. I held James close as I returned their stares with a look that said “my poor boy here has just shit himself, please don’t judge”.

After reaching the restroom I immediately questioned my love for liverwurst, whiskey and smoked oysters. The shart was probably around a 3 on the 10 point shitaster scale, nothing I couldn’t handle but a situation none the less. Turns out my underwear was a total loss but other than that I was able to escape the situation relatively unscathed.

After cleaning myself up and stashing my draws deep in the trash can we headed back out to the course. My wife hates those places because she has this crazy idea that they smell and are full of germs but I think she’s overreacting.


The Ratman Chronicles: First Blood

It’s official folks, there is no turning back now, we have drawn first blood. It’s been over a month since the boy and I had our first encounter with Ratman on that moon lit March night. Since then the trail has gone cold, we had all but given up hope of catching our eternal foe. That was until yesterday when we stumbled upon what looked like a deserted hobo camp sight.

I didn’t note anything of import as I kicked through the trash, muttering words of disgust. That’s when a peculiar bottle caught my eye. I picked it up for a closer inspection and felt my heart leap into my throat. I immediately signaled to the boy to be on guard. We stood back to back with weapons at the ready. James had no idea what was going on but could sense the danger in the air.

It was the empty bottle of Swiss-up that confirmed we were on Ratman’s turf. I don’t even think they make that swill anymore but apparentlyr Ratman must have brought along his secret stash. Fearing an ambush, I began searching the wood line for my quickest escape route, praying not to see the rat.

I was starting to feel confident that we were alone when suddenly I heard a familiar song. That high pitched, shrieking voice could only belong to one rat.

“What’s the word
What’s the jive
Birds’ alive
How’s it sold
Good and cold
But what’s that price?
Thirty Twice.”

That’s when Ratman appeared from the shrubs directly in front of me, holding a half drunk bottle of T-Bird and a devilish grin. He broke the bottle against a tree and drew his arm back for a killing blow. I feared I was about to die face down in the trash of a disgusting hobo camp.

That’s when I felt something streak just over my right shoulder. One of Ratman’s eyeballs exploded, spraying jets of blood in all directions. He let out a shriek loud enough to crack windowpanes from 5 blocks away and deafen all the neighborhood dogs. Just a quickly as he appeared, he bolted into the woods and disappeared before I knew what had happened.

I turned to see James standing beside me, his Jake the Pirate cannon now empty of its homemade projectile. I tried to say something but he was already bending down to collect some blood samples.

We studied the blood samples all night, hoping to discover a weakness we could exploit. I will post any results after we finish our investigation.

The Law of the Terminal Trumps Airport Etiquette

Did some traveling recently, four flights in three days gave me ample time to evaluate the current airport experience. Overall my experience was quite painless with zero delays and every plane landing safely on time. The good folks of our TSA were kind and professional, never finding need to molest my privates or give me any undue grief. The friendly staff working at Delta Airlines did everything in their power to make my flying experience as enjoyable as possible.

Unfortunately there still remains a few situations in which the law of the jungle has replaced our common courtesy. I would like to list a few of these situations here along with a brief explanation.

Boarding Time Bandits

Most airlines have developed a system of boarding that seems simple and should act as a guide for a seamless boarding process. Boarding Bandits are those assholes from Zone 3 that feel need to clog the boarding lanes with their bodies and piles of shit just as soon as the first zone is called. They’re not trying to board the plane mind you, just positioning themselves strategically to box everyone else out and hijack the lane as soon as their zone is called.

As the confused folks from Zone 2 struggle to break through this human barricade, the Gate Agent then moves on to Zone 3, allowing the Boarder Bandits to complete their coup d’├ętat, successfully boxing out all remaining passengers from Zone 2.

Some might argue “Who gives a shit Jim? You’re gonna get on the plane eventually”. Sounds reasonable until you finally reach your seat only to discover that the Boarder Bandits have hijacked your overhead luggage space, leaving you with no choice but to scavenge desperately for any leftover room.

This search for overhead space leads me to my next airport asshole.

The Premature Ejectulator

We all know this one, that person who immediately jumps to their feet and piles their shit into the aisle instantly upon reaching the gate. This might not seem like a big deal but thanks to the Boarder Bandits, your belongings are now a few feet upstream, behind this new luggage avalanche that has descended into the aisle.

The worst part is, now you look like the asshole as you clog the aisle attempting to summit this assholes luggage in pursuit of your own. Remember folks, if you just give up and let the ejectulators leave the plane first, they win.

The last group of folks that I want to mention include a large variety of different cross terminal obstacles one must try to avoid. There’s the lady who has no problem blocking both lanes of the moving sidewalk. The hordes of people who attempt to stampede onto the Tram before others can get off. The church group, wearing matching t-shirts, who can block an entire walkway while checking the flight screens. The list goes on and on but I will save it for a separate post.

I hope I didn’t come off as some jaded traveler with an axe to grind. I wish each and everyone of you folks a safe and enjoyable traveling season. It is only by working together that we can hope to eliminate some of these unsavory airport habits.

Stock Market Monkey Business

I’ve heard a few different people tell this story when trying to explain the stock market. It’s an old story but grifting is an old trade.

There was once a small village located deep in the rain forest, far from all the horrors of modern day progress. The villagers were living an easy life, masters of survival, they had become accustomed to their harsh jungle environment.

Most mornings were spent gathered around the fire pit, discussing the day’s business and decoding the previous night’s dreams. All was grand until one morning when a stranger arrived, interrupting their morning discussions with an offer of easy riches.

The man explained how there was a great need for monkeys in the city and he was offering $10 for every monkey they could produce. The villagers seeing that there were many monkeys around, went out to the forest and started catching them by the dozens.

The man bought hundreds of monkeys at $10 a head but as supply started to diminish and the hunting became more difficult, the villagers stopped their efforts. Not one to be denied, the strange man announced that he would now pay $20 for every monkey caught.

This renewed the villagers efforts, sending them back into the forest to produce more monkeys. It wasn’t long before the supply diminished even further and the villagers once again returned to their easy going lives.

Soon the man increased the bounty to $25 each and the supply of monkeys became so little that it was rare for the villagers to spot a monkey, let alone catch it! The man then announced that he would buy all monkeys at a staggering $50 each!

The villagers again redoubled their efforts but since the man had urgent business in the city, his assistant would now be buying the monkeys on his behalf.

In the absence of the man, the assistant told the villagers. “Look at all these monkeys that the man has collected. I will sell them to you at $35 and when the man returns from the city, you can sell them back to him for $50 each.”

The villagers then rounded up all their savings and bought back all the monkeys. Unfortunately they were never to see the man nor his assistant ever again, only monkeys everywhere.

Sexy Secrets of Yahoo’s Spam Folder

Just found out I need to check my yahoo spam folder more often. Some chick named Adriana has been trying to contact me on Facebook for weeks. I’m not sure where she’s from but according to her messages it’s only 4.2 miles from my current location.

Turns out Adriana is super “chill” and she can’t stand no drama. She loves to have fun and enjoys taking sexy pictures of herself and her sexy friends. The ladies recently acquired a new webcam and it’s always on no matter what the girls are up to.

Poor girl, she wrote to tell me that she and her beau are no longer an item. She looked at my photos because she thinks I’m super sexy and wants to hang out sometime. The conversation got really dirty after that so it will stay between me and Adriana.

I did find it kind of strange that she sent me a link to some website instead of her email address. Looks like I need a credit card just to tell this poor girl I’m spoken for. SMH. Adriana honey, if you’re reading this you need to know I’m married. Don’t worry honey, there’s a man out there for you somewhere just give it time. Please tell all your sexy friends the same.

All the best,

Advance Praise for My Next Blog

I haven’t even begun to think about my next blog and already the reviews are pouring in. I am honored and humbled that people would take the time to send such kind words. I wanted to share a few of my favorites here with you folks before I actually begin writing.

“Jim brilliantly captures the atmosphere of colonial Virginia and sheds new light on some of Jamestown’s greatest mysteries. A blog that promises to forever change the way historians view the old dominion.”
– Publisher Biweekly

“Murder and mayhem are the order of the day in this spellbinding post. A rollicking good yarn that will leave you begging for more.”

“I started reading this blog in the tub, continued reading in the kitchen and finally finished it in the bedroom. This was the first blog that made me blush!”
– Jenny Jameson

“If technology completely crashes and the web goes tumbling down, this blog will remain. It will remain immortal in the hearts of the storytellers round the world. The brave men who safeguard humankind’s greatest achievements for the betterment of posterity.”
– Stephen Hawking

“It’s a shame that nobody will remember this blog. Just like Neil Armstrong who went to the moon, came back down and nobody gives a shit.”
– Kenny Powers

“This blog reminded me of my days as a struggling writer. Living hand to mouth, always grinding for that next meal.”
– Hillary Clinton

“I read the blog to the fellas as we sat quietly in the locker room. I wish you could have seen their faces moments before we took the court. Thanks Jim, we owe it all to you.”
– Tim Duncan

“I was finally touched.”
-MC Hammer

“Mission Accomplished!”
– George Bush

There you have it friends, just a sampling of what people are saying. I dare not waste another moment basking in my future glory.

Prick in a Prius

So I almost got killed by some chick in a Prius today. Girl is texting and driving then decides to cut me off on HW 183. Hey honey, how about you put the phone away and concentrate on the road.

Had to swerve across two lanes of traffic to avoid this hussy, spilled blue cheese sauce all over my car and almost dropped my swisher. I ended up eating the rest of my wings plain like an animal. To top it all off, my Jalaepeno cheddar cheetos got drenched in Diet Coke.

I eventually caught up to this Eco friendly airhead only to notice a couple of the most repugnant bumper stickers ever made. One simply read “Free Carbon Credits, Suck Here” with an arrow pointing towards the exhaust pipe. The other sticker was some type of cryptic warning about acid rain. Having had my fill of insults I dropped the Bu down into third and punched it.

We made eye contact as I passed, she must have noticed my cigar for she immediately began coughing violently. She actually wasn’t trying to be obnoxious but the Pavlovian training was too strong in this one. I was laughing so hard as I typed up this post I ended up cutting her off and almost crashed into the guardrail.