Observations and Innuendo

[Mufasa]

Feb / Wichita

My neighbor - cute little thing... early thirty something... probably Greek ancestry or Turkish. She waves from her patio as I multi-task: Shovel snow, grill kabobs and try to seriously damage a bottle of Bela Sera.
She is carrying a hampster cage and a trash can - not the little corner wastebaskets that you see in Bed Bath & Beyond... but a galvanized steel, fifteen gallon, dual-handled unit.
She waves and says to come do hers after I'm done. I refrain from the comment that is desperately trying to crawl out between of my tightly-clenched teeth and say, "Uh huh" instead.
She giggles and bats those long Greek/Turkish eyelashes.
She toys with Mufasa. Never a good thing.

Where was I...
Oh yeah, trash can... Hampster.

She sits the can down and proceeds to up-end the hampster cage while simultaneously holding the little fur-encased varmint to one side... as she also holds the door of the cage open so the "droppings" and such can be shaken into the shiny-steel trash can. Miscalculation.

Hampster sails out of the relative safety of his cage, executes a reverse one and a half gainer with a twist... and impacts the bottom of the steel trash can.
WHUMP!

Greek/Turkish girl squeals.

I cannot believe what I have just witnessed, and think, "how long will it take me to post this?", while also holding onto the railing to prevent myself from falling off the deck due to laughter.

Greek/Turkish girl retrieves the now traumatized mini fur missile from the bottom of the oh-so-cruel steel waste recepticle, and inspects the creature while he eyes her suspiciously. She yells: "Do you think he's ok?... Michael... IT'S NOT FUNNY!"
I wipe away tears so that I can see her more clearly. I tell her to give him mouth to mouth... you know... just to be sure, and I will call the EHMS (Emergency Hampster Medical Services).
She glares at me.
I tell her I'm going to call the ASPCH... (American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Hampsters).
She takes her little nearly-wall-mounted trophy inside to attend to his injuries... or to pick the trash remnants outta his fur, not sure.... and I continue my thankless task and await the next slam of Wichita snow to once again remove all hope for a decent weekend of mirth and merriment at the paintball field.

[paul]

that story goes well with Rush in rio on vh-1

[HardwareGrl]

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!!!
Oh crap, thats too much!
Its a rodent, a fall like that's not going to hurt it, no worries. She's lucky he fell in the garbage can, if he didn't he probably would have taken off and she never would have seen him again!

[Mufasa]

Saturday, May 1st / Wichita, KS.... cultural Mecca of the Midwest (snort)

Teams from three states have converged upon The Edge Paintball Adventures.
They are here to determine who will walk away with the title of... well...
meanest, sneakiest, most accurate, most disciplined, most aggressive... you know, just most-bestest paintball team.

MPB Militia and Ghost Recon, both supposedly well-respected and downright feared in the Midwest, and also at the worlds largest paintball game; D-Day Oklahoma (over four thousand players), showed up to do battle with your local hometown favorites; Bad Juju.

Smack had been talked. Predictions of doom and disgrace had been forecast for the Jujus. Younger players that had signed up with us were worried that maybe they had bitten off more than they could chew. We told them simply: "Just do what we tell you - no deviation, and you'll be fine."
9:00 AM: During the strategy meeting, I'm standing in the back of my truck. One hundred-plus paintballers are listening to me explain what is expected from their groups, and what the four main missions are... when my phone rings. It is my petite flower of a wife... and she is freaking out.

A group that is very near and dear to all of us here - will be in Wichita August 20th, and Dawn is acutely aware of my great
love for this groups music, not to mention that their drummer is my all-time fav. She is now awaiting the box office lines to open so that she can procure my ticket to this monumental event, and hyperventilating over my phone.
"I know what this means to you! I don't want to mess this up! I want to get you a good seat!"
In front of these one hundred-plus players, I now say: "Take some deep
breaths - you'll be fine - I love you. Whatever it is, it will be fine. Call me when you find out."
As I hang up, every player evidently had the exact same thought: "This guy is at a paintball tournament while his wife is giving birth??!!"

After clearing up that minor misunderstanding, the six core group Jujus and our additional regulars and walk-ons, proceeded to completely annihilate
the opposing team upon every encounter, and on every level. Our group obliterated their defense, and pushed their entire team back into a one
acre corner at their base.
At one point the head ref came into the fight and stopped us from pushing any further, leading our entire team away from the area so that the
opposing team could regroup. The missions were timed, meaning that if you held an area or flag point at a non-designated time, the points did not
count.
Our groups of hunter-killers... consisting of one Juju and a group of new players, were prowling every square inch of their "held territory". Our
loners - very nasty individuals that do the most damage on their own, were constantly harassing their base and picking off players that strayed off of the pathways.
Some of our very young players were a bit confused and overwhelmed at the beginning, but soon became part of the attacking forces.
It's always fun to watch a new player; they may have no idea what they are supposed to be doing... but they are doing it with a vengeance! "If all
else fails, shoot that way! AH-OOOO!"

It's a blast to be in the middle of a fight, and hear a young kid yell the call sign, (seen "300"?) or to hear it when coming up upon another group
that is unidentified, and to have twenty players respond in kind. It's not just a guy thing, because our girls were right beside us, fighting like
banshees, giving direction to young players, even drawing fire to determine where the opposing forces were. Girls are mean when you make em' mad.

Final count after eight hours? MPB and Ghost Recon scored zero the entire day - with the one exception of a single medical satchel that one of their
group located when we all abandoned our defensive positions to take Firebase away from them (we weren't supposed to do that.... we got bored).
Every other possible point was taken by our group. There were a couple of incidents that required the refs to step in - mostly frustration from the
other team, and three players were tossed for infractions. Other than that, the entire day went very smoothly.
MPB Militia - the supposed "scourge of the Midwest", upon seeing the score after the third game, promptly took their toys and left the playground.
We offered tissues. "Badger", a WPD officer (also a Juju) offered a hug to their captain; they declined both. Meh... we tried.



* I'm on the very top - orange squeegee around my neck.... yeah.... the svelt one!
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[Mufasa]

Headed to a local footwear outlet to nab a necessary pair of dress/work shoes. As I'm driving along, I have the usual plethora of BS running through my mind; you know - bills, work, what the last argument with my beloved was caused by, how many boyfriends can one teen aged girl have at once, etc...
As I am crossing one of the many bridges in Wichita, I see a older gentleman below the bridge, sitting on a large boulder near the rivers' edge, with his clothes drying on the rocks near him. We have shelters all over the inner city for the homeless and destitute - but this guy wanted no part of them. He was on his own.
In that brief glimpse of this human being, who was probably only three degrees removed from any of our lives, I thought a bit less of my problems, and began to wonder if I was doing enough for people like him.

[Mufasa]

Stuff I noticed today.
*A elderly gent sitting in Micky Ds, reading the obits with the intensity that said he wasn't sure if his name was in it or not.

* A group of people spotted from my vantage point (tenth floor of a parking garage in Old Town... that I had just climbed on my mountain bike) sitting on a rooftop of an adjacent parking garage, with lawn furniture, stereo and a cooler.

* A group of kids "barking" back at a K9 unit at a local park.

* A respite from three-digit temps

[Neilbubbachuck]

Man this world is bent

[Boomer]

I agree with Neilbubbachuck! Ah well, back to the argument with myself. The hard part is trying to come up with an intellectual response that will put me in a coma just thinking about it!

[Laffitupfzbl]

Ah, good. Story time!

My personal favorite story - that of my fiance and my Mother and their first meeting.

We get to my Mom's house, and it's pot roast Sunday. Roast, the best mashed potatoes ever, rolls, etc. Good times. We walk in, Mom, Jimmer, Jimmer, Mom. And immediately they start talking. They're both talkers, I knew they'd get along. Then my Mom says "Tiffini, run up to the store, I need more milk." My parents, you should know, have never lived in a house that was more than a 7 minute walk from a grocery store. My Mom's meal planning skills were always somewhat obtuse.

I think to myself, "And leave you two alone for 15 minutes, forget it." But I realize they are talking pretty good and I'd likely just sit there and mash potatoes anyway. So I leave.

When I get back, I slip the milk into the fridge and then I start catching the fringes of the conversation. "Yeah, but I mean, you've already paid her." 'I know, but it just seems, you know, like extra. Plus you've already given her a bonus with the coke.'

Apparently they had, in less than 20 minutes of knowing each other, slipped into a conversation about whether or not you would have to pay a hooker extra to give you oral sex, if you'd already paid her to snort cocaine off of her buttocks. Which, believe it or not, continued over dinner with all of my siblings and my Father ringing in their particular points of view on the subject.

For a group of people that, I'm fairly certain have never A) hired a hooker or B) used cocaine, much less C) snorted cocaine off someone's ass - whether or not that person was hired or provided the service for free, there seemed to be a lot of opinions on the subject. Proving that everyone does indeed have one...

[Mufasa]

I had knee surgery Friday; had a torn sumpin-sumpin and some bone
sumpin-sumpin, as well as "a really fine batch of arthritis" per my comic/surgeon.
Anyhoo - I go in this morning to get released to go back to work, and the company physician is not in. He will be there at 2:00. It is now 8:00... AM.
Swell.
So I make the 100 yard walk back across the parking lot and head home.
I am there at 1:30 to make sure he doesn't have to bolt out again for an emergency rectolotomy or something equally horrendous.
This is how it went:

Dr. Halitosis: (yeah... trust me on that one kids)
"So you 're ready to come back to work eh?"
Me: "Yeah - house is clean, may as well."
Dr. Halitosis: "I see you just had it scoped and cleaned up? Not a replacement?"
Me: "Uhhh, yeah."
Dr. Halitosis: "This looks recent." (looks at paperwork) "You just had this done Friday!?"
Me: "Yeah."
Dr. Halitosis: "The stitches are still in!"
Me: "And...?"
Dr. Halitosis: "Well you can't return to full duty with the stitches still in! I can sign off on light duty."
Me: "O-kaaay. What constitutes "light duty" exactly?"
Dr. Halitosis: "Well... what do you do?"
Me:"I'm a service rep. I pretty much stay at a desk on a computer and a phone."
Dr. Halitosis: "Can you climb stairs?"
Me: "How do you think I got in here?"
Dr. Halitosis: "I can only release you for light duty."
Me: "Peachy. What's light duty consist of?"
Dr. Halitosis: "Uhh, well, just not full duty."
Me: (I give him the, "You really are a special kind of stupid - aren't you", look)
Dr. Halitosis: "I can release you for full duty when you have the stitches out."
Me: "Swell."
He signs the papers, and I ask him if he wants a Tic-Tac. He declines.
I say, "Please?"
He looks at me like I have a third eye.
Believe me doc, the feeling's mutual.