Brady’s Blog

last night i fell asleep thinking about this dumb lady i heard talking to her daughter on the phone..

she actually used the word “yuns”..

as in “yall”, only red-necky..

i think the sentence was something like this:

“well, yuns are just gonna have to eat leftovers then..”

yikes..

she also used one of my favorite words, flustrated..

if you listen, you’ll be amazed how many people employ that little beauty..

so anyway, i fell asleep thinking about this genius, and i was thinking i’d probably blog about it..

and then i started dreaming..

and i dreamt that i was looking up the word flustrated to make sure it wasn’t really a word - but when i got the dictionary out and looked - there it was..

flustrated - an alternative compound usage of the words flustered and frustrated, blah blah blah..

and in my dream i was thinking “man, that stinks.. that would have made a decent post..”

very flustrating..

you better thank your lucky stars i don’t have a better camera in my cell phone..

because i went to the dermatologist today..

and he removed a skin tag from my armpit.. (not my knee-pit)

and when he was finished, he left the room, and left his little tray just sitting there..

with the scissors, the gauze, and the little hunk of flesh still sitting right there in the open..

tasty..

i did snap a pic with my phone but it was pretty much worthless.. the subject of interest was sitting in the shadow of some of the gauze on the tray.. so you just couldn’t really see what it was..

again..

consider yourself lucky..

and don’t think for a minute i won’t take a camcorder to my next proctologist appointment..

just a warning..

** update **

i looked at the picture on the computer instead of on the phone and it’s just about impossible to see anything - and if you could see anything it would only serve to gross you out..

and that’s why i decided to post it..

our little friend is hiding in the tip of the shadow of the gauze, right above the hinge of the scissors..

click here to enjoy..

this was texas..

1985.. maybe 1986..

i was helping with vacation bible school..

i think i was probably part of the “activities team” or something..

at one point, in between said activities, the kids in my group started getting really restless..

i needed to entertain them for a few minutes..

so i did what any right-minded person would do in such a situation..

i taught them to eat ants..

in texas, they have some very flavorful ants - they call them fire ants because they sting when they bite you..

they really do have a flavor - it’s kind of a citrus or sour taste - the acid in the venom i guess..

anyway, we’re all sitting around with nothing to do so i picked one up off the ground and popped it in my mouth - wide, unbelieving eyes everywhere..

kid: “uh.. did you just eat that ant?”

cracker: “yeah.. why?”

kid: “um.. well.. it’s an ant..”

cracker: “what, you’ve never eaten an ant before?”

kid: “no..”

cracker: “huh.. really? wow.. i eat ‘em all the time..”

other kid: “don’t they bite you?”

cracker: “not if you eat ‘em quick..”

next kid: “what’s it taste like?”

cracker: “nothing really.. maybe kind of like a lemon or something..”

kid: “a lemon? what?”

cracker: “yeah.. it kind of tastes like a lemon.. just a little..”

by now, we’re all gathered around an area where there are quite a few ants, and one is crawling on one of the kids arms..

he looks at for a minute.. looks around.. looks at me.. looks back at the ant on his arm.. and then just snatches it off his arm with his lips..

cracker: “could you taste it?”

kid: “yeah.. kinda..”

at this point, the other kids realize that this one kid has eaten one..

seeing that he’s still alive, they dig in..

before i know it, they’re all running around snatching up ants and eating them like crazy..

i had to stop the feast so we could move on to the next activity..

i don’t remember being asked to work at vacation bible school the next year..

wonder why that is..

lately mrs. cracker has been talking a lot about birth order..

i have no idea what it’s all about - my research on the subject consists of googling the term “birth order” and linking to the first page..

but i do know this..

when our first born (stew) was little, we made a big deal of not letting him take toys to bed - i remember making him store thomas the tank engine over his bed on a shelf..

2 kids later, claire beds down with 2 baby’s, a teddy bear, and a giant backyardigans character..

that should tell us something i would think..

i was about 9..

we lived in springfield..

in the house next to mrs burgreen..

i remember mrs burgreen because i had to mow her lawn because she was about 160 years old, blind, and not very undeaf, and was still trying to do it herself..

i doubt if she even knew i mowed it - but i do think she paid me..

of course, i think she was paying some guy $1500 to paint her house about every six weeks so i could’ve probably gotten paid without mowing it..

one time i was mowing there and all of a sudden i hit something - the mower just went crunk-kak-crunk and died..

the grass was so high i had no idea what i had run into.. until i pulled the mower back and found a nest of baby bunnies under it.. not a pretty sight friends.. not good at all..

but this post isn’t about that..

this is about the time i stuck a hammer in my head..

like i said, i was about 9..

i had a hammer and i was breaking a big rock up into little rocks (probably an assignment someone thought might prepare me for the future..)

and i took a big backswing over my head, and just nailed myself in the skull with the claw part of the hammer..

and it just stuck there..

so i went in holding the handle of the hammer with the other end stuck in my head..

it wasn’t very deep and i think it was mostly just stuck in hair and skin but it was pretty weird..

i think i pulled it out before i got to mom, i don’t remember..

i wonder what mrs. cracker would do if one of ours came in the house with a tool stuck in his head..

maybe i’ll try to get one of them to try it just to see..

is that funniest home videos show still on?

they’d probably like something like that..

i would like to draw an analogy for you..

comedy is like war..

when you’re trying to be funny, you’re trying to “attack” the “enemy” which is the audience..

you’ll even hear people say a certain comedian “killed em” with a routine or set of material..

and if a comedian fails, we might say “he bombed”.. or “died”..

so if comedy is war, then the writer is the weapons manufacturer, the general, the artillerist, all the way down to the foot soldier.. often delivering the payload of his weapons himself..

but the funny thing is, different people use different tactics..

and i’m not really talking about comedians here.. or comedy writers or whatever..
just people who are funny.. (or in my case.. just trying to be..)

first there’s the infantryman..

his weapon goes to full auto when he needs it - like at a party or something - the rest of the time, he’s set to burst and ready to fire but he’s cautious and calm and not about to go jumping around in the open shooting randomly..

next are the snipers..

you know the type.. quiet.. stealth..

might not fire a round for six months..

but when he finally squeezes the trigger, you hear his spotter say “target down” every single time.. and everyone laughs for a week..

some are generals or commanders..

they think they’re quite a bit funnier than they are because the people under their command laugh when they’re expected to laugh, but the truth is they haven’t done any real killing since they were privates..

tank drivers - this is somebody like seinfeld or letterman - they have an awesome set of weapons and a great crew and they just go around tearing it up.. killing machines..

aviator - this is the “joke teller” - this is the guy you call in and say “land something funny on us right here right now” and he swoops in, drops payload, blows everyone to bits and is just gone..

cia/black ops - these guys will do the dirty work - telling the jokes that nobody else will tell.. and they don’t need any help.. they can kill you with their bare hands and you’ll never know what hit you..

so.. what kind of soldier does that make cracker?

well, i am obviously of the scatter gun, carpet bomb, napalm, c130 gunship mentality..

i’m going to throw so much metal at you, i’m eventually going to land a shot..

this is a desperate kind of warfare waged by desperate people - lots of collateral damage and friendly fire incidents..

and if i have to go kamikaze on you or use nukes, don’t think for a second i won’t do it..

because you know what they say..

war is hell..

the last day of the fishing trip, garth and i had kind of a bad fishing guide..

he was lazy..

and we think a little bit dumb..

hard to tell, of course, since his english was even worse than my spanish..

he had a wonderful way of circumventing this little problem though..

he just pretended his english was perfect.. and then ridiculed us for not understanding him..

cracker: “so.. rene.. crank bait? spinner bait? plastico?”

rene: “si.. plastico.. maybe.. no se..”

cracker: “um.. ok..”

rene: (gesturing slightly to our tackle box) “mi si..”

cracker: “que?”

rene: “mi si.. mi si?”

cracker: “uh.. que? mi si?”

garth: “oh.. i think he’s saying ‘me see’ - he wants to look in our tackle box to see what else we have..”

cracker: “ah.. sure.. you can look.. go ahead.. lo siento.. no comprendo..”

rene: “no comprende ingles?”

during our fishing trip to mexico, i tried to find as much time as i could to hang out with the locals in order to get some free spanish lessons..

during siesta time and late at night, while the other gringos were sleeping, i hung out in the dinner hut and watched satellite tv with the kitchen and grounds crew..

we got to watch the yankees/sox one night (baseball is awesome in spanish - a walk is called a “pasaporte” - how sweet is that?)

we watched the mavericks/spurs the next night - not as much fun as baseball, but it was a treat to hear the spanish announcers try to pronounce “nowitski”..

i would have to say, however, my favorite show to watch in spanish is animal planet..

something about the quiet, smooth way the announcers spoke made it very easy to pick out words.. and there was always some specific, meaningful visual to tie the language to..

like if you hear them say the word “oso” everytime there’s a bear on the screen, you figure out that means bear.. after a while you find you’re kind of understanding some stuff..

there was a kid named gustavo working there who spoke quite a bit of english - he helped me with anything i couldn’t understand and could usually find an english word close enough to get me through..

one day during “lo mejor de animal planet” (the best of animal planet), they ran a commercial for dell computers..

cracker: “mira.. gustavo.. tu tiene el.. uh.. computadore?”

gustavo: “ah.. si.. yes.. computer.. i have a computer.. yes..”

cracker: “what kind? you have a dell?”

gustavo: “no.. i have an hp..”

cracker: “ah.. good.. tu tiene um.. como se dice.. internet?”

gustavo: “ah.. yes.. si.. bueno.. i don’t um.. use very much - sometime email.. no mucho”

cracker: “si.. bueno..”

gustavo: “you use internet?”

cracker: “si.. yes.. always.. todos los dias.. trabajo.. my work..”

gustavo: “ah.. you are.. um.. computer.. how you say.. computer ‘cracker’? um.. no.. i think you say ‘hacker’?”

cracker: “hmm.. um.. si y no”

here’s two pics from out trip to the fishing camp in el salto..

the first one gives you an idea of the accomodations we stayed in as well as the language barrier we faced..

(click to enlarge)

and the second one is just a good shot of pops fishing with a thunderhead stacking up overhead..

(click to enlarge)

i take about 1 good photograph every 3 or 4 years so i have to show them off..

more posting later when i’m not so filthy dirty, hot, sweaty, sunburnt and tired..

open wifi in mexico..

gotta love that..

we have been living it up here at the resort..

off to the fishing camp tomorrow where we will brush our teeth with bottled water..

good times..