Cad's King Kong Movie Reviue.

The other night I snuck into the theater to see the remake of King Kong. I don’t mind a remake, as long as it is done correctly. This remake I had issues with.
For one thing it was way to long. If you shave before going to see a film, you should not have a friggin beard when you come out of the theater!! I so did not need the life story of the girl. I was so relived when she finally got on board the damn ship I nearly wet myself, finally we are getting somewhere!. You already know she is going to go!! For gods sake man just get on with it.
I did not need to know that Jack Black was crooked and destitute to make it plausible that he would bring Kong back, It’s a thirty foot fucking ape!! Of course he’s going to capture it!! Mother Teresa would have done that! I had no problem with Kong killing stuff, that’s what he did in the original film. I did not however need to watch a thirty minuet battle between the rescuers and a pack of crickets. Stick to the original script Mr. Jackson!! I felt I was watching the Battle For Helms Deep all over again, except this time one side had guns, and the other side was a bunch of fucking crickets. All was ok after that. They capture him and bring him back, la de da, he escapes, oh no!! Arrrgh run man!! I was just starting to feel that the movie was worth braining the ticket collector and sneaking into the theater, and then the girl and the big monkey meet in Central Park!! Weeeeeee the monkey discovers ice for the first time!! Oh soooo cute!! Just like Thumper in Bambi!! Awww how cute, and oh the girl so looooves the monkey………..
I don’t know what happened right after that, because I jerked my knee up into my face, and woke up with a bloody nose about the time that Kong was climbing the building. I had no issues with the rest of the film, The monkey dies as he did in the original, too bad so sad.
Peter Jackson is a damn good director when it comes to epics, but after this movie it would seem that that’s all he can make. He tried way to hard to turn this film into a huge sweeping tale of love greed and heartache, when all he needed to do was follow the original script and enhance the effects, and he would have had a very good movie.

Posting Mav's

Due to the unfortunate destruction of my internet tower, which I had oh so cleverly constructed out of coat hangers and tinfoil, I am forced to walk down to the local Starbucks to post on my blog. I cannot however just stroll on in there and start posting, as they have a very strict anti Cad policy. The various reasons for this are way to numerous to mention, so I won’t go into it, but because of this ban I am forced to wear a disguise. To day I was dressed as a White Mocha Frap. I waited until the door was opened then rolled stealthily across the floor to a quiet table in the back. Once there I logged on and began making minor revisions to my Mavericks piece before posting it. I was almost done, when a voice spoke up from behind. “Hey” said the voice. “That article is wrong, you can’t possibly have done what you said you did.” Irritated at the interruption I turned around and came face to face with a surfer. “And why the hell not?” I asked. “Errr, well for one thing you are a White Mocha Frap, you don’t have legs.” I sighed, this was going to be one of those days. “ I’m not actually a White Mocha Frap” I replied a bit testily, “I just have to dress as one to get into Starbucks.” “Ahhhhh, ho kay, gotcha bra, I knew you wasn’t a real frap.” I rudely turned my back on him and continued typing. Seconds later I felt a tap on my shoulder. “You say in that article you’re writing that you surfed Mav’s , but I never seen you out there.” I slowly turned back around “You’ve never seen me, because I disguise my self as a breaking wave so the other surfers stay away from me.” He nodded his head slowly, a thoughtful expression crept over his sunburned face. I went back to typing. Soon however there was another tap. “What?” I snapped! This guy was really starting to get to me. The surfer grinned and leaned in close to me. “Seeing as how you’ve surfed at Maverick, isn’t it just totally awesome how all the hot girls just like totally want to sleep with you!! I’m like so tired from fighting them off that like the sea is my only refuge. But I’m sure you know all about that being like a fellow big wave rider and all…….” What ever else he had to say I’ll never know, because at that point I’d had enough, and using the straw that I had glued onto the top of my head, I poked him in the eye. Ahhhgh!! NOT COOL MAN!! He yelled, collapsing onto the floor. I quickly hit the send

Stuff That Would Make Life Way More Exciting.

1: exploding Snails.
Snails that go off like land mines when you step on them.

2: Anthrax pollen.
Inhaling this through your nose causes quick and violent death.

3: Carnivorous field mice.
( No explanation needed)

4: Land Jelly Fish.

5: Huge Venous Fly Traps that disguise themselves as park benches.

6: Invisible Skunks.

7: House Crabs.

8: Flying spiders.

9: Fresh water Narwhals.

10: House cats prone to spontaneous combustion.

Mavericks the battle for everlasting glory.

The water temperature at Mavericks falls somewhere between a Penguins scrotum, and a Narwhal’s nose. But I wisely anticipated this and dove head first into a vat of Paraffin Wax before embarking on my adventure.
What I had not anticipated though were the horrendous riptides which prowl around the bay like a pack of demented vacuums, alternately sucking you out to sea, and blowing you head first into one or more of the craggy selection of rocks which dot this chaotic patch of ocean. After taking one or two on the chin however I managed to locate one of these run-amuck vacuums which had made up it’s mind to head strait out to sea.
Having survived the currents, and for now avoided the sharks, the only thing left to do was sit apprehensively in the line up and wait for my wave. I realized I had only one shot at this, so I had better wait for the mother of all to take my place in history. I bobbed around in the break like a scraggly paraffin cork, while down in the black deep Poseidon waited for me to turn my back on him.
I awoke with a salty snort, and realized I had dozed off…….. Something was different. The water around me had grown darker. So had the sky for that matter. Maybe rhe sun had gone behind a cloud. Hmmm…..I looked up……..no that wasn’t it, the sky was clear. Now a good sized breeze had sprung up at my back, odd. And what was that strange noise I was hearing? Kind of a slurpy roar, like a freight train being swallowed by a tornado. I calmly looked behind me, and into the eyes of a startled porpoise, but not just any porpoise, this was a flying porpoise. Why he had to be at least eighty feet up……..wait a minuet……porpoises can’t fly, so he must be swimming, but how could he be swimming at roughly the cruising altitude of a jetliner?……………yep……that’s weird all right………….wait………..why is the horizon rushing to meet me??…………………OH *#@&**@#%*!!!!!!!!

What I felt at this moment is hard to put into words, but I will try my best.
Imagine an English man is having tea out side at a trendy little café, when quite unexpectedly a brick lands in his cup. He would no doubt be vexed by this. Now imagine that he looks up to see that the rest of the building will shortly be joining him as well. If you can picture this, then you will know how I felt when an eighty foot wave landed on my head. I had no chance of riding this beast. You can only ride something that’s coming at you or going away from you, if it’s landing on you you’re kind of screwed.
The force of the water drove my face through the flimsy plywood of my makeshift board, driving splinters further up my nostrils than any booger had ever dared to go. Then pushed me deep to the bottom. So deep in fact that I met the fucking crab from The Little Mermaid down there. For two hundred yards my face was scrubbed across the abrasive sand of the sea floor as the massive wave above whisked me along., until my unpleasant ride was halted by a vicious head first encounter with Sail Rock, the largest and craggiest in the bone yard. This impact would no doubt have killed me, but in an odd twist of fate, my head connected not with hard rock, but with the soft underbelly of a Great White Shark who had unluckily chosen that precise moment to dart in for the kill. The impact polaxed him on the spot, and I then had only to grab on to his fin, and ride the monster’s belly up body to the surface like an Argo naught riding a big toothy balloon.
Once on the surface I made an immediate dash for the beach, arms and legs churning the sea into froth, closely matched by a gnashing hoard of the dead sharks friends. It was touch and go for a bit but at last I made the beach and ran to the wondrous safety of the jetty. So engrossed with my triumph over all the sea could through at me, it was fully ten minuets before I noticed the girl standing there watching me. On seeing her I wished that I had not been so boastful of my deeds to the little band of Hermit Crabs who had scuttled out onto the rocks at my approach. Then looking down I wished that I had managed to keep my swim trunks. But then with a start I realized that my nudity didn’t matter! I had just ridden a wave the size of Texas!! The pleasures of any woman were now mine for the taking!! Slowly with a rakish grin I turned and faced her. “Did you see that” I asked “yes” she replied, “that was really something” “I just rode a wave the size of Texas” I said. “Now you must make instant sandy love to me on this very beach.”
“Had you indeed ridden a wave the size of Texas” she replied, “I would gladly have done just that. However, you did not ride a wave of this size, you were asleep and one just happened to land on you.” This statement took a bit to sink in, then I was outraged!! “I DID TOO RIDE IT” I screamed, “I had that thing in the palm of my rough manly hand” She looked at me smugly, the wind blowing through her wispy blond hair. “Having a wave sneak up and land on you is not the same as riding one, I’m afraid that the only thing you’ll have in the palm of your hand tonight is that which god gave you, such as it is. “However” she added hopefully, there is still some daylight left, perhaps you might paddle out and try to catch another.”
Briefly I considered doing just that, though it would shurly end as a messy form of suicide. In the end however I simply stood there in the fading light watching her walk away across the jetty while an impish Hermit Crab tweaked my exposed testicles.

After every misadventure I swear I’ll never set foot from under my bridge again, but this time I really mean it. I’m happy here in the deep shadows of my G.St. bunker. If ever you, my faithful readers should need me this is were I will be. And after all is said and done, I was landed on by a wave the size of Texas, few people can say that.

Since the beginning of this blog, I have from time to time written historical facts regarding the history and lore of Merced. Being a small town it is far easier to uncover it’s past. The more I look however, the more amazed I am at how truly remarkable this little unknown backwater really is. In past post’s I admit to adding certain embellishments for the sake of telling a good story, this is known as creative license, and every writer does it from time to time. When it comes to the little town of Merced though, no creative liberties are ever needed. Truth they say is stranger than fiction. The following is a short list of facts about this town, just as they are, with no need what so ever to stretch the truth. The extent to which this town is ignored by the outside world is astounding to the point of utter disbelief, many of the true facts I have listed below would be Nation wide news if it occurred in any other town. One or two of these facts would have easily made the news on an international level, but because they occurred in Merced they did not cause so much as a ripple out side the county line. Amazing!!!

1: Merced was named after the nearby river. This river was first discovered by Spanish missionaries from the south. The original name of the river was, The Clear Cold waters Of Our Lady Of Mercy.
This name of course was ridiculously long, and gave map makers migraines as they struggled to fit this stupid long winded title on to their documents, so the name was shortened to Mercy. Or in Spanish, Merced. The town was then named after the river.

2: Bear Creek, which runs through the center of town is home to the last known population of wild Beaver in the state of California. What the hell they eat, or how they have survived all this time in what is essentially an open sewer is unknown. A team of biologists went to this creek once, observed that there was indeed a viable breeding population, then simply shrugged their shoulders and walked away never to return. It made all the local papers, and that was it.

3: Ten years ago, a small group of school children playing on the banks Of Bear Creek unearthed a massive bone. A small party of curious locals returned to the site days later and unearthed the remains of a Woolly Mammoth, beautifully preserved in the mud. Shortly after, a grade school science teacher did some research and discovered that local farmers had been digging these things out of their fields for years, and simply casting them aside. Even today it is not uncommon to find an old farm house on the edge of town with odds and ends of a mammoth lying in the yard next to a broken down old jalopy. Even as I write this the giant leg bone of a god knows what is sticking out of the mud just down stream from the M.St. bridge!!! It’s sitting there right out in the open, but no one has ever bothered to dig it up, or see what it’s attached to!! The town just shrugs and goes on about it’s business. Four months ago workers at the town land fill unearthed a prehistoric bone yard of immense size. The find included the remains of Mammoths, Saber Toothed Cats, Giant Sloth’s, A species of prehistoric Rhino, and the remains of ancient humans. A small team was sent to the site from UC Berkley, and after poking around for a week or so they announced that the find exceeded that of the famous Labrea Tar Pits in LA. The city quickly laid plans to turn the site into a multi million dollar museum. But then due to budget woes they changed their minds, said fuck it, and continued using the site as a land fill. They never gave a reason as to why the project was scrapped, but I have a good guess. This is Merced, we could unearth the fucking Ark Of The Covenant, and it wouldn’t even make the front page of the next days paper.

4: Merced has the highest unemployment rate in the nation! It stands at 40%. That means that for every hundred people in the town, forty of them don’t have jobs!! ( Not that I can talk of course) Merced is also highest in the nation for teen pregnancy, and single mothers!! This is per capita of course, Oakland has more pregnant teens in it than Merced, but it is a bigger city. Merced also leads the nation per capita in crime and gangs, and ranks third in air pollution. If any other city on earth had these numbers, the national guard would be called in, and martial law would be declared until things could be sorted out, but once again this is Merced, and no one gives a damn.

5: Merced just weeks ago ranked second in the nation in housing costs. It was reported ( on CBS amazingly enough) that a house in Merced on average costs 77% more than a house in another city. If a house in Fresno was selling for 120,000. The exact same house would cost roughly 340,000 in Merced!!
This statistic is by far the most amazing of all, what kind of mind blasted sociopath would pay 70% over fair market value to live in the shit heap of the world??? I just defies all possible logic. Those who think themselves mighty smart will puff out their chests and say “ Well you see, Merced has become a bedroom community for San Francisco, people by houses in Merced, then commute to the Bay Area. This at first may seem like a sound theory, but riddle me this Mr. puffy chest. Why would someone buy a house in Merced, two and one half hours from San Francisco. When they could buy a house for way cheaper in Livermore and only be one hour from San Francisco?? When faced with this logic all those who think themselves smart simply sniff at you and stalk off.
All I can truly say on all the above subjects is that it’s just a Merced thing. The longer I live here, the less I seem to care weather or not I stub my toe on a Mammoth while jogging, or face a higher risk of being mugged on the street than in most inner city neighborhoods. One day I suppose I will just stop caring all together.

Cads Hilarious Camping Gags.

Ah the great out doors. Fishing, hiking, trail mix and mositos. Every year when the snows melt in the high country, people across the nation unfailingly turn their heads to gaze wistfully at the high mountain peaks.
( Unless of course you live in Kansas or Nebraska. Who knows what the hell you guys gaze at.)
Drawn by some unexplainable primal urge, scores of people each year leave their well ordered lives behind and set forth into the wilds. Sadly however most of those who do this are wholy unprepared for anything having to do with non dammed rivers, non trimmed bushes, or non tamed animals. For many this trip back to a simpler time ends in a horridly gruesome death. Others are luckier, the lucky ones arrive safely at their destinations, only to realize that they haven’t the slightest idea what the hell they are going to do for the next week of their lives. It is for these people that I have created my list of Hilarious Camping Gags.
Weather fighting extreme boredom brought on by an absolute ineptitude at anything wilderness related, or just looking for a chuckle, this list is for you. But first, a word from my lawyers.

Warning!! Trying any thing at all in this guide can and most definitely will cause extreme pain and in some cases nasty death. Use said guide at your own risk.

1: Wait until your buddy goes off to collect fire wood, then stuff a porcupine in his sleaping bag.
Imagine his surprise when he crawls in to bed at night and gets hundreds of sharp barbed quills in his leggs and ass. “Oh you guys” he’ll say, then you will all share a huge laugh.

2: Empty the food out of the cooler, and place an enraged badger inside. you can enrage the badger by picking up the cooler and shaking it once the badger is safely in.
( Remember, shake the badger after you put him in the cooler!!! Not before!!)
Wait for your friend to return from his unsuccessful fishing trip, then ask him to go to the cooler and get you a beer.

3: Wait until someone from your party dozes off while fishing down by the lake. Sneak up on him or her, and gently place the hook from their line in their mouth. Then shake them awake and shout hurry pull!! You got a big one!! Their knee jerk reaction will set the hook and provide hours of entertainment as they struggle to remove the hook from their lip with a pair of combination tweezers, saw, spoon and mini wrench tool.

4: Wait until all have left camp for the day. Then drag all the tents aside and dig deep pits beneath every one of them. Line the bottoms of the pits with sharpened stakes. Once you are done, move the tents back into place. This is a fun spin on the old Russian Rulet game, the first one to crawl back into their tent plunges head first onto the stakes!! (GOTCHA!!) All are sure to find this very funny.

5: Use a syringe to pump gasoline into all the marshmallows. Sit way back when it comes time for roasting, and have fun watching everyone get burning napalmy marshmallow goo blasted into their faces.
( Kids find this joke especially funny)

6: Transplant a nest of yellow jackets in to your buddy’s guitar before he hauls it out to play around the camp fire. They’ll be asleep at night, but a few good strums will wake them up in a hurry!
If you can get a friend who is allergic to bees this gag is even funnier. Then as a side gag, you can replace their life saving Epinephrine shot with a syringe that contains pancake syrup.

So you see friends, the woods don’t have to be a hopelessly boring place, with a little imagination camping can be loads of fun for all ages!!

Waves break on the bone yard at Mavericks

 

Cad gazes out at Mav's

 

I was sitting under my bridge naked one day, boiling my clothes to rid them of fleas.
( This should be done at least once a week to avoid embarrassing public scratching) When I spied a DVD box floating past me in Bear Creek. After some fishing about with a stick I was able to retrieve it, and found that it was a big wave surfing movie. Riding Giants the cover blared. In my pot a few hardy fleas climbed desperately up an underwear mountain in a vain attempt to escape the boiling agony that awaited them, but I took no notice. My eyes were glued to the back of the box. The picture was that of a man god, riding a wave so insanely large it defied imagination. This I had to see.
Two hours later I emerged from my G St. bunker in a daze, my mind spinning with the images of the film I had just watched. Oh the glory, the raw courage, no pretty girl on earth could deny pleasure to a man who had just ridden a wave the size of Texas. I had to try this. In a frenzy I packed everything useful into my duffle bag………I had nothing useful however so I just said fuck it, left the bag and set out at a run for the nearest trucking yard. After some mucking about I caught a pallet of cabbage for the coast. I had no board, but this was no big deal, so much shit washes up on U.S. beaches I was bound to find something suitable.
I arrived at Half Moon Bay on a cold foggy morning. All appeared calm and quiet in the mist, but in the distance a rumble could be heard, like thunder in hell, there could be no mistaking this sound. The surf was up. I strolled along the beach examining various candidates upon which I would ride to glory. After rejecting a Styrofoam float as being to crunchy, and a dead seal carcass as being to floppy, I finally settled on an old plywood board, warped into a pleasing curve by the sun and surf. Turning left onto a dirt road I walked along a muddy path, around the head of a large cliff and out onto a stone jetty for my first look at the Mount Everest of big wave surfing, Mavericks. Mav’s as the locals call it is the largest big wave break on the North American continent. On cold winter days with giant swells heaving out of the North this place is capable of producing waves over eighty feet, Roughly the size of a seven story building. And this day was no exception. At Mav’s however, the waves, while stupefyingly big are the least of your worries. After rolling along for an astounding two hundred yards, the waves at Mavericks slam with an eye watering impact into a jaggy forest of rocks called the bone yard. Should one be lucky enough to survive all this, his efforts will be in the end wasted for beyond the rocks swim huge packs of man eating White Sharks. The man who first rode this watery disaster was one sick sick motherfucker. His single act of machismo has led to the deaths of legions of would be heroes, following blindly in his shadow hell bent on oneuppance. On a good day the waters of Half Moon bay are awash with their rotting wetsuit clad carcasses. On a bad day the bodies pile up and overflow into the shipping lanes creating a navigational hazard akin to the seaweed of the Sargasso.
Waiting for break in the surf had given me plenty of time to think about all this, but in the end I had come to far to chicken out. The last wave to decimate the rocky bone yard had barely topped fifty feet, I had my lull, it was now or never. With one mighty lunge I flung myself into the arms of fate.

How will it end? Has Cad at last met his mach? I guess you'll just have to wait for the next installment.

Ten Reasons Why Sponges Are Better Than Guinea Pigs For Washing Dishes.

1: Sponges don’t shed.

2: A wet sponge smells better than a wet Guinea Pig.

3: Sponges don’t sneak off while you are rinsing.

4: Sponges don’t squeal and try to bite you when you wring them out.

5: PITA never opened a hot can of woopass on anyone for wiping a sponge across a soapy cheese grater.

6: If you ruin your sponge you can just go buy another one. Pet stores get mighty suspicious if you ruin to many
Guinea Pigs.

7: A sponge doesn’t pee when it gets scared.

8: A sponge is easier to clean up if you accidentally drop it in the garbage disposal.

9: A sponge won’t drown.

10: A sponge was designed for dish washing, that’s it’s primary reason for being. I don’t know what the hell a
Guinea Pig is for, but it’s not for dish washing that’s for shure..........kittens however.........

You know what I really hate? People who start a sentence with the words,
“You know what I really hate”
As soon as you hear those words you know that some jackass is going to spout off about something he really hates!! As if your day isn’t bad enough, now you have to hear about someone else’s pet peeve. I hate that. People who start a sentence like that aught to be beaten about the head with something they really hate.
( Like a jar of mayonnaise….. I hate mayonnaise.)
Know what else I hate? People who say “You know what else I hate” . These words signify that after finishing a long pointless rant about something you care nothing about, they are getting set to do it all over again. There aught to be a law against people like that, I hate them all. People like that should have a mackerel shoved down their pants……………………What? ........Why are you looking at me like that?……………..I’m just saying is all………….Hey!! PUT DOWN THE FISH!!!

Cad’s Tips For Getting People To Really Notice You, While Pretending Like Hell Not To.

1: Bring a large Yam into a crowded Applebee’s restaurant, lay it on the table in front of the cashier, then start shrieking at it. Works like a charm.

2: Approach people on the street, get right up in their face and scream, “STOP NOTICING ME!!!”
They sure as hell will notice you then, no matter how hard they pretend not to.

3: Glue a gigantic bottle of catsup to the top of your head. It’s simple but effective.

4: Grow a humongous mustache, then wax the hell out of the thing until it sticks out twenty feet from both sides of your nose. If for some strange reason this does not get you secretly noticed. Then accidentally on purpose stick the tip of it into some guys ear as he walks by.

5: Pull out your cell phone in a crowded bank line, pretend to dial a number, then shout
“DON’T HANG UP” into it over and over. It usually takes ten or more times before people really start to pretend not to notice you.

6: Bring a photo of your girlfriend on to a city bus.
( If like me you don’t have one, any photo will do)
Stare at the photo and alternate between crying hysterically and laughing maniacally until you are asked to leave by the bus driver. As you walk down the isle towards the door I guarantee everyone on that bus will be trying so hard to pretend not to notice you, they’ll all have brain aneurisms.

7: Walk into a crowded Vetinary Hospital, pee on the floor of the waiting room, then start beating yourself with a rolled up newspaper while yelling “BAD” Even the fucking hamsters will pretend not to notice you!


You may be wondering at this point how I know so much about this subject…………lets just say there isn’t a whole lot else to do in this town.

Hello my friends, I have returned after a regrettable absence. To long I’m afraid I have neglected you, my most loyal followers. So where you ask have I been? Mayhaps I turned the miserable existence that passed as a life around? Did I return triumphantly to LA and retake my Bank Executive throne?
Nope, not hardly. I remain now and I’m afraid until the end of my days where you first found me. In the depressing little town of Merced, under a smelly bridge by the vile polluted flow of muck that passes for a creek in this patch of the world.
It has been over six months since I last posted, and for this I do believe I owe you all an explanation.
So here it is.

The Top Ten Reasons I Have Not Posted In Over Six Months.

10: Having lived under ground so long, I awoke one morning to discover that I had become a potato.
Potato’s are by nature very suspicious, and in this I was no exception. Every time I thought it safe to leave the fetal position, I would spy a crafty little Irish man with a spade looking to dig me up and boil me.
Even now I can’t bring my self to approach the local bar Maloney’s. As this is an Irish name.

9: I decided one morning to write an article about jogging for the local paper, The Merced Sun Star. In order to live up to my high literary standards however, I did not feel that I could write a proper jogging article unless I wrote it while actually jogging at the same time. At the first bend in the path however I was so engaged in my article that I missed the turn and plowed head first into a tree. My face impacted into the keyboard and damaged it fatally. The doctor at the hospital spent seven hours attempting to remove the Space Bar from my left nostril.

8: The afore mentioned incident knocked all the keys off my computer key board, so in order to type anything I had to guess at where all the letters were and therefore could produce only gibberish .
And if you tell me I should have just relabeled all the keys as I found them on the blank keyboard then you can just shut the hell up!! I never thought of it until it was too late. I shoved what remained of my computer down the fangy maw of an attacking Grass Weasel to save my own life.

7: Umm, I shoved what remained of my computer down the maw of an attacking Grass Weasel to save my own life.

6: One day some asshole snidely remarked that blogging was old school, and that My Space was were the action was. While scrolling through the my space world I met a girl. She seemed nice enough, and I swear to god she claimed to be 18. I was not aware that playing nude Patty Cake with a four year old was a crime, but the police said it was…………… Prison is quite a place, remind me to tell you all about it some time.

5: Drugs do strange things to a man, like make them believe that their Jesus, and in order to ascend back to heaven they must clime the tallest building in town and jump off while wearing a white bead sheet toga.
You know what sucks about being in a full body cast? If your nads itch, (and they always do) asking a cute young nurse to scratch them for you with a coat hanger causes you to have boiling antiseptic thrown in your face.

4: One day I decided to see what being blind was like, so I tied a bandana around my eyes and made the knot super duper tight to discourage peeking. I found that being blind is really hazardous to ones health if one is not used to it. Long story short, I tied the blasted bandana so tight that I couldn’t get it off. After three weeks of blundering randomly about I finally managed to get hold of a pair of scissors and cut some eyeholes in the thing. I still can’t untie the knots or get the thing off my head, but wearing a red bandana with eyeholes kinda makes me look like Raphael from the Ninja Turtles so I guess it’s cool.

3: Inspired by the musical pioneer who decided to write the longest classical piece in history, a momentous work of art which is scheduled to last 26 thousand years. ( A true story ) I decided to write the longest blogg post in history. I held down the P key until my laptop exploded in my face.
( This took thirty six days, seven hours, fifty nine minutes, and eight seconds.)
On the whole not bad for a single post. To bad it will never be read, as the post died with my hard drive.

2: The computer store considered it unethical to sell me a new laptop after what I did to the other two.
I’m sure the insurance company had a hand in this, I guess they took a big hit from the full coverage policy’s I took out on them.

1: The world exploded……… At least for me it did. One night I mixed a bottle of Mescal with a can of gasoline and a bottle of hydrogen, drank it down, shoved a fire ant up my nose, then calmly lit a cigarette.


All that really matters though is that I’m back. And baring any unforeseeable events, and I can’t rule that out. I hope to stay back with you my dear readers for along time to come.
Faithfully Yours.
Cad

I'm back yall

Ahem!!! Cad Lives!!!!!