This bad boy is a testament to modern machinery.
It was parked in front of my parents' house today to pump concrete - via its massive arm - over the house an into the forms in the back yard. As I admired its unrivaled reaching ability, I couldn't help but imagine more creative uses for it.
Any other ideas?
-Barry
Friday, April 30, 2010
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Filling and Emptying
A few nights ago I traveled home late from a friend's house. As I neared the freeway I realized that I needed gas so I pulled into a nearby Chevron. The night was pleasant and as I got out to refuel my car I appreciated the cool, early-Spring breeze that carried with it the smell of gasoline. I have always loved this smell. Some say it gives you heart disease. I say it's worth it.
I swiped my card, punched no for the car wash, and opened my gas tank. I had just begun to refuel my car when a wheezing relic of the 70's pulled up in front of the station. It screeched to a halt and immediately the door burst open, an Asian dude jumped out, unzipped his fly, and promptly began peeing all over the concrete. My surprise was so instantaneous that I nearly burst out laughing. Struggling to maintain composure, I quietly turned away from the man and looked around smiling - incredulous at what was happening. There was a very attractive woman in her car adjacent to where I was refueling. I glanced at her to see her reaction, but she seemed engrossed with her phone and was entirely oblivious to what was happening around her. I was so disappointed! I wanted somebody to share this with! Someone with whom I could exclaim, even if only through a glance, "Can you freaking believe this!?" And then laugh.
But it was only the urinator, the oblivious woman, and me.
My gas pump clanked slowly and over its soft, hypnotizing sound there was the invasive splashing of the urinator's torrent - drunkenly befouling the entire parking lot. I was so happy I couldn't smell it and said a silent prayer in praise of the breeze.
Soon he finished, and just as quickly as he'd showed up, he sped out and into the dark of the night, leaving only an acrid puddle in his wake. I wasted no time in finishing my purchase as a dark tributary branched away from this puddle and began creeping downhill toward me. I held my breath as I took my receipt and jumped into my car, escaping a most unpleasant situation.
-Barry
I swiped my card, punched no for the car wash, and opened my gas tank. I had just begun to refuel my car when a wheezing relic of the 70's pulled up in front of the station. It screeched to a halt and immediately the door burst open, an Asian dude jumped out, unzipped his fly, and promptly began peeing all over the concrete. My surprise was so instantaneous that I nearly burst out laughing. Struggling to maintain composure, I quietly turned away from the man and looked around smiling - incredulous at what was happening. There was a very attractive woman in her car adjacent to where I was refueling. I glanced at her to see her reaction, but she seemed engrossed with her phone and was entirely oblivious to what was happening around her. I was so disappointed! I wanted somebody to share this with! Someone with whom I could exclaim, even if only through a glance, "Can you freaking believe this!?" And then laugh.
But it was only the urinator, the oblivious woman, and me.
My gas pump clanked slowly and over its soft, hypnotizing sound there was the invasive splashing of the urinator's torrent - drunkenly befouling the entire parking lot. I was so happy I couldn't smell it and said a silent prayer in praise of the breeze.
Soon he finished, and just as quickly as he'd showed up, he sped out and into the dark of the night, leaving only an acrid puddle in his wake. I wasted no time in finishing my purchase as a dark tributary branched away from this puddle and began creeping downhill toward me. I held my breath as I took my receipt and jumped into my car, escaping a most unpleasant situation.
-Barry
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Lonely Birthday Hiker finds Some Body
Take a look at this picture and the blog title will make sense:
Click on it to see the full version, if you need to. Do you see what that is? It's a glove. It's hanging onto the edge of a rocky precipice. And it has flesh hanging out of it.
Well, not actually flesh, but it looks like it, doesn't it? I got close enough to conclude that the sinewy strips of matter hanging morbidly from the glove are actually just shards of the glove. I was totally prepared to find a body, though. Also, I'm not really lonely. It just made for an incredible headline. Can you imagine seeing that in the paper if I had found a body? Hilarious!
In other news, here are some more pictures I took on my hike. Nature is still mostly bleak, but you can find glimmers of beauty if you look.
Click on it to see the full version, if you need to. Do you see what that is? It's a glove. It's hanging onto the edge of a rocky precipice. And it has flesh hanging out of it.
Well, not actually flesh, but it looks like it, doesn't it? I got close enough to conclude that the sinewy strips of matter hanging morbidly from the glove are actually just shards of the glove. I was totally prepared to find a body, though. Also, I'm not really lonely. It just made for an incredible headline. Can you imagine seeing that in the paper if I had found a body? Hilarious!
In other news, here are some more pictures I took on my hike. Nature is still mostly bleak, but you can find glimmers of beauty if you look.
Rock is so fun to shoot because of the way it mimics, at the minuscule level, erosion at a larger level.
Inside this shattered can were the remnants of a wasp nest and multiple praying mantis egg sacs. I envisioned a tiny war wherein the can was torn to pieces - one side extinguished, the other forced to find a more suitable home.
At first glance you're looking up a tree, but then you realize you're looking across a bridge.
-Barry
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Green Feet
I spent part of the afternoon today throwing the football with my little brother and running around in the backyard with no shoes on. The weather was delightful and at the end of the day my feet were green with grass stains - an occasion that has me way too anxious for warm weather and summer to begin.
In the meantime, the slow-but-sure reemergence of nature will have to suffice. Enjoy some pictures while you're waiting for the green to come.
In the meantime, the slow-but-sure reemergence of nature will have to suffice. Enjoy some pictures while you're waiting for the green to come.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
"Random Story Entailing Weird Habits" #214
Sometimes, when you're working out in the yard, you don't want to wear your normal shoes because they'll get grossed up by your yard work. I remember learning this the hard way when I was a young'n with new, white basketball sneakers that had - after mowing the lawn - turned a brilliant shade of emerald green. From that day forth (or when I didn't forget, at least) I always wore a pair of "yard shoes" to do my horticultural bidding. They were usually the last pair of shoes I'd owned - flimsy messes of synthetic leather, foam soles, and ragged laces with no more purpose than to shield my feet from the forces of nature.
Here's where the weird fact comes in. I've always obsessively checked my yard shoes for spiders. It all started when I watched on of those those "dangerous creatures" shows as a kid (like you might find on the discovery channel.) On this show, a woman put on her gardening shoes and was bitten on the toe by a black widow that had hidden inside. She talked about how painful it was and that she went to the hospital but LOST HER TOE! It even showed her foot there with only FOUR TOES!!! I must have been 12 and just stared at the TV in horror. Little Barry, standing there, mouth agape. I was instantly scarred. For the longest time I couldn't put on any shoes without checking for spiders. I'd have my freakin church shoes, in a box, brand new, and I'd think to myself "I dunno, Barry, some spider could have snuck in there during shipping... Let's just check to make sure."
Today, I'm not as obsessive / freaked out. I only check for spiders when I put on my yard shoes, but that's because they sit in a box in the garage where, if I were a spider, I'd certainly want to cozy up in a nice, warm shoe.
And I like my toes. Gotta look out for them.
-Barry
Here's where the weird fact comes in. I've always obsessively checked my yard shoes for spiders. It all started when I watched on of those those "dangerous creatures" shows as a kid (like you might find on the discovery channel.) On this show, a woman put on her gardening shoes and was bitten on the toe by a black widow that had hidden inside. She talked about how painful it was and that she went to the hospital but LOST HER TOE! It even showed her foot there with only FOUR TOES!!! I must have been 12 and just stared at the TV in horror. Little Barry, standing there, mouth agape. I was instantly scarred. For the longest time I couldn't put on any shoes without checking for spiders. I'd have my freakin church shoes, in a box, brand new, and I'd think to myself "I dunno, Barry, some spider could have snuck in there during shipping... Let's just check to make sure."
Today, I'm not as obsessive / freaked out. I only check for spiders when I put on my yard shoes, but that's because they sit in a box in the garage where, if I were a spider, I'd certainly want to cozy up in a nice, warm shoe.
And I like my toes. Gotta look out for them.
-Barry
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Random Brain Rebellion
Sometimes I'm talking to somebody about somebody else and I suddenly can't remember that other person's name. People I know really well, usually. Even family members sometimes. It's like my brain revolts for a few minutes at a time, refusing to fetch the proper data like it knows it should. When this happens it suddenly becomes a race in my head against the person I'm talking to, to figure out the person's name. It usually goes something like this:
Me: How's umm... crap... I can't remember his name.
Other: Well describe him to me. Do I know him?
Me: (Incredulous) Duh! Yeah! He's like one of our BEST friends.
Other: And you can't remember his name!? Is it David?
Me: No...
Other: Mike?
Me: No...(At this point I frantically throwing out name fragments that don't really make sense) Daba... Ryo... Emer...
Other: Dude, what the hell is wrong with you?
Me: Oh... Eric. Yeah. So... how's Eric doing?
And then, for some reason, they don't want to talk to me.
Stupid brain...
-Barry
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