Are your AmEx cards maxed? Discover? College loans not paid off? Have you ever wanted to make $500,000 a year from home? Follow these simple steps:
Find some bananas and vanilla ice-cream. Or yogurt if you are lactose intolerant. Get a blueberry or two and some RED Gatorade -- the flavor doesn't matter.
*Fruit Punch
*Fierce Berry
*Xtremo Tropical Intenso
*Berry Citrus
*ESPN The Flavor
*X-Factor Fruit Punch + Berry
*Super Bowl Berry
*Cherry Rain
*Cherry Rush
*All-Stars Strawberry
*Cran-Raspberry A.M.
*Fierce Berry
*Xtremo Tropical Intenso
*Berry Citrus
*ESPN The Flavor
*X-Factor Fruit Punch + Berry
*Super Bowl Berry
*Cherry Rain
*Cherry Rush
*All-Stars Strawberry
*Cran-Raspberry A.M.
Some fresh basil, mint, and a pinch of grape Big League Chew for good measure. A few Mike & Ike's - lime and strawberry only, unless you prefer Hot Tamales.
-PORK sausage
-Boxed Wine
-Quail Egg
-Packet of Harry Potter Taco Bell Taco Seasoning.
Cue up Knight Rider season 3, episode 5, K.I.T.T. vs K.A.R.R.
Here is the synopisis for those of you that are stupid:
K.I.T.T.'s bad tempered prototype K.A.R.R. is found buried in the sand by mechanic John Stanton and his girlfriend Mandy. K.A.R.R. convinces Stanton to replace his damaged parts and give him a new look. Then he sets out to take his revenge on K.I.T.T. and Michael Knight. After turbo boosting into the Foundation's semi, John and K.A.R.R. take possession of an improved laser Bonnie was preparing for K.I.T.T. to use against his evil twin.
Proceed to get so drunk that you black-0ut. In the process, write a bunch of notes to yourself that you just won $500,000 in the lottery.
Back-up. Before this all occurs, DVR the lotto drawing from the previous week. Fill out all the winning numbers and take it to 7-13 (I don't want to get sued by using 7-11's name in the blog post).
Forward-down. Resume blacking out drinking. Realizing that you are watching a epic 1984 episode of Knight Rider in Dutch, you decide to grab something to eat from de kueken. Post the above recipe on your fridge and spend 14 minutes cleverly arranging Dirty Fridge Magnets in a clean fashion whilst commencing chewing of the Big League. Make smoothie. Throw Hawaiian Sea Salt over your left ear lobe and drink the ENTIRE box of wine. Sprinkle a bit of the taco seasoning on the quail egg and throw it out a third floor window.
YOU MUST THEN WASH YOUR HANDS. I do NOT promote poor hygiene.
Done. Easy. I won't even charge you.
Do you want to travel? I want to travel? I've always wanted to travel and I've not gotten my fix. I moved a lot as a child -- always finding a new way in a new school with new friends, or no friends. I was ahead of the fashion curve and behind the education curve. Sometimes vice-versa. I was the popular kid and I was painfully shy and insecure. I went to elementary school in the Colorado mountains with hippie teachers and hippie offspring. I endured earthquake drills and boiling asphalt lunch breaks in the Los Angeles public school system. I was befriended by the most unpopular kid in school my first day in Hood River, Oregon because I was a skater/snowboarder in this "hick" town that was yet to embrace Xtreme sports. In 7th grade, I got into a fight with my soon to be best friend because I beat him in a race in track and field. I was tormented as a freshman in a yet another new town, a bustling, wealthy suburb of Portland, OR. I completed secondary school in Boulder, Colorado, never quite figuring it out.
On to a few different colleges, a quarter life relationship, a trip to South America, a two month solo road trip and a few nation wide tours with a rock-n-roll band; yet here I sit, the burden of freedom heavy on my shoulders and the wide-open universe waiting to embrace my nomadic desires.
"If I were in your position, I'd be gone already"
"I wish I had that freedom!"
"Now is the time -- do it -- see the world!"
I made those quotes up. My friend didn't really say those things but they said something relatively close. There may have been an fuck or ass thrown around for color but that's essentially what I've encountered while pondering this decision, this life; my life.
They all say that, but they all might be in a position where jobs are plentiful and so are resources. I have chosen to be an artist. Art doesn't really pay unless you die or do drugs or are super hot and young with a great stylist and fake boobs or ass implants. In order to keep my freedom to travel, I need to not be obligated with silly things such as regular work or relationships. I've been reading Jack Keroac's "On The Road" as of late and as appealing as it sounds to hop in the car with Babe, Carlo, Dean and Betty to traverse our great nation stealing gas or hopping box-cars along the way, I'm not sure my 30-something gang of friends is able to set off on a grand ole caper of riotous carousing at 70mph on rickety wheels and good spirit.
I possess a remarkable enthusiasm for new stimuli, born of my migratory days as a youngster. I need to be in new places, meeting new faces. I am parched as my thirst for cultural knowledge overwhelms my ability to swill enough to satisfy a curious mind. New experience informs my soul as I adapt and assimilate, choosing small pieces off the ENORMOUS Avatar life tree that I will soon make sweet, sweet love to/with. I digress. That was getting too deep -- that verbal diarrhea was making me ill.
I'm going to finish up this stream of consciousness blog post with this:
Tomorrow morning, you wake up and your life as you know it is put on infinite pause. You must leave for a month and can return within 3 years. Everything as you know it will resume when you get back. You have $173.62 in the bank and your car is not road-trip appropriate without some serious AAA black card coverage. What do you do?
This is a pretty cool website: http://b2b.meetplango.com/
-PORK sausage
-Boxed Wine
-Quail Egg
-Packet of Harry Potter Taco Bell Taco Seasoning.
Cue up Knight Rider season 3, episode 5, K.I.T.T. vs K.A.R.R.
Here is the synopisis for those of you that are stupid:
K.I.T.T.'s bad tempered prototype K.A.R.R. is found buried in the sand by mechanic John Stanton and his girlfriend Mandy. K.A.R.R. convinces Stanton to replace his damaged parts and give him a new look. Then he sets out to take his revenge on K.I.T.T. and Michael Knight. After turbo boosting into the Foundation's semi, John and K.A.R.R. take possession of an improved laser Bonnie was preparing for K.I.T.T. to use against his evil twin.
Proceed to get so drunk that you black-0ut. In the process, write a bunch of notes to yourself that you just won $500,000 in the lottery.
Back-up. Before this all occurs, DVR the lotto drawing from the previous week. Fill out all the winning numbers and take it to 7-13 (I don't want to get sued by using 7-11's name in the blog post).
Forward-down. Resume blacking out drinking. Realizing that you are watching a epic 1984 episode of Knight Rider in Dutch, you decide to grab something to eat from de kueken. Post the above recipe on your fridge and spend 14 minutes cleverly arranging Dirty Fridge Magnets in a clean fashion whilst commencing chewing of the Big League. Make smoothie. Throw Hawaiian Sea Salt over your left ear lobe and drink the ENTIRE box of wine. Sprinkle a bit of the taco seasoning on the quail egg and throw it out a third floor window.
YOU MUST THEN WASH YOUR HANDS. I do NOT promote poor hygiene.
Done. Easy. I won't even charge you.
Do you want to travel? I want to travel? I've always wanted to travel and I've not gotten my fix. I moved a lot as a child -- always finding a new way in a new school with new friends, or no friends. I was ahead of the fashion curve and behind the education curve. Sometimes vice-versa. I was the popular kid and I was painfully shy and insecure. I went to elementary school in the Colorado mountains with hippie teachers and hippie offspring. I endured earthquake drills and boiling asphalt lunch breaks in the Los Angeles public school system. I was befriended by the most unpopular kid in school my first day in Hood River, Oregon because I was a skater/snowboarder in this "hick" town that was yet to embrace Xtreme sports. In 7th grade, I got into a fight with my soon to be best friend because I beat him in a race in track and field. I was tormented as a freshman in a yet another new town, a bustling, wealthy suburb of Portland, OR. I completed secondary school in Boulder, Colorado, never quite figuring it out.
On to a few different colleges, a quarter life relationship, a trip to South America, a two month solo road trip and a few nation wide tours with a rock-n-roll band; yet here I sit, the burden of freedom heavy on my shoulders and the wide-open universe waiting to embrace my nomadic desires.
"If I were in your position, I'd be gone already"
"I wish I had that freedom!"
"Now is the time -- do it -- see the world!"
I made those quotes up. My friend didn't really say those things but they said something relatively close. There may have been an fuck or ass thrown around for color but that's essentially what I've encountered while pondering this decision, this life; my life.
They all say that, but they all might be in a position where jobs are plentiful and so are resources. I have chosen to be an artist. Art doesn't really pay unless you die or do drugs or are super hot and young with a great stylist and fake boobs or ass implants. In order to keep my freedom to travel, I need to not be obligated with silly things such as regular work or relationships. I've been reading Jack Keroac's "On The Road" as of late and as appealing as it sounds to hop in the car with Babe, Carlo, Dean and Betty to traverse our great nation stealing gas or hopping box-cars along the way, I'm not sure my 30-something gang of friends is able to set off on a grand ole caper of riotous carousing at 70mph on rickety wheels and good spirit.
I possess a remarkable enthusiasm for new stimuli, born of my migratory days as a youngster. I need to be in new places, meeting new faces. I am parched as my thirst for cultural knowledge overwhelms my ability to swill enough to satisfy a curious mind. New experience informs my soul as I adapt and assimilate, choosing small pieces off the ENORMOUS Avatar life tree that I will soon make sweet, sweet love to/with. I digress. That was getting too deep -- that verbal diarrhea was making me ill.
I'm going to finish up this stream of consciousness blog post with this:
Tomorrow morning, you wake up and your life as you know it is put on infinite pause. You must leave for a month and can return within 3 years. Everything as you know it will resume when you get back. You have $173.62 in the bank and your car is not road-trip appropriate without some serious AAA black card coverage. What do you do?
This is a pretty cool website: http://b2b.meetplango.com/
This is good. Material worth publishing.
ReplyDeleteHa... Thanks Kyla. I don't know - my off the wall humor might confuse people into thinking I'm on drugs or drunk when I write. Which may or may not be true. I'm looking into teaching abroad right now but fantasizing about an epic road trip.
ReplyDelete