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Topics - Da6s

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Or Kill Me / Kesha's yelling timber
« on: June 07, 2017, 06:07:02 am »
I fell off the goddamned mountain.

Like, I fucking fell fell

So I'm writing this. Well. Starting to write this. On 4 pillows, 10 MG oxycodone, some muscle relaxer, 3 broken ribs, a punctured lung, countless scabs and bruises, and a shattered right shoulder blade or scapula if you prefer. There were a few brain contusions too, but I think those are mostly healed now, because fuck yeah helmets.

We'll see how deep it goes.

I've always been into man vs nature sports. Hence why I snowboard, hike, am into cross country/trail running, and had the itch to dabble in sport bow hunting and mtn biking for years. In high school, I briefly got into climbing with a friend that had all the gear. Loved it, hella fun sport. After I moved to Boulder prior to the navy mistake, I joined a climbing gym, bought all my own gear sans rope and some route setting equipment. Did it for a few months, then the navy made quit because I "could get injured". Horseshit I thought. I think they were onto something.

Moved back to Boulder last year, joined climbing gym again, got back into it. Made some climbing friends, and had been going outdoor climbing with them a few times. They were more experienced than I, but helped me to learn a ton and improve a lot more.

We went climbing in boulder Canyon the Sunday before memorial day. It was my last climb of 2017.

We started out pulley hanging ourselves across Boulder creek (river). First time for me, I did it fine. Found our climbing area, which was this awkward belay anchor area partway up a cliff face with sketchy footing. We climb a few routes. I do my first rope swing route which was a lot of fucking fun.

I break to eat. I eat a wrap of Boulder hippie food kind overlooking Boulder falls. I take a pic of said falls. My phone case, galaxy s7 edge, is magnetic. It slides off and drops onto an outcropping ledge 5 feet below me. Shit, I better get that because leave no trace. 5 foot scramble, no big deal. Fuck I was wrong.

I get to the ledge where my phone case rests, and it fucking gives way under both my feet. I slide, roll, tumble, claw, grasp, and flail down a roughly 50 foot drop. I'm stopped by a tree thwacking me across my back near the river. I stop. I lose consciousness at some point - multiple concussions will do that I hear. I'm rescued and evac'd by a rando hiker tourist and my friends. I have brief spans of memory from Sunday. I don't remember the ambulance ride. I don't remember the start of the emergency room. I remember being told they were giving me ketamine, my first time, which would explain the memory loss.

Edit 1: So I went to retrieve the phone case, ledge gives way, and I fall. from this point (Sunday around 3) until Tuesday, my memory is hazy from the multiple Ketamine IV's. I remember repeatedly being asked if I was ok, what's my name, who's the president. I was held steady, hoisted, ferried like a loved martyr, and then sherpa'd across the river onto a black ambulance. I don't remember the ride to the hospital. I don't remember arriving at the hospital. i have blurred memory sections of being in a hspital bed, being told I'm being given ketamine, asking my info, being told I had brain bleeding and 3 contusions. I remember the sensation of the first morphine IV they gave me that took all the pain away. I remember being told I had a punctured lung and being surprised at how I couldn't tell.

All things considered, I'm really fucking lucky. It wasn't an insignificant distance that I fell. Walking away from it is pretty damned bad ass. I'm realizing it's pretty fucking rad that I'm still alive. It wasn't really an accident out of gross negligence or fucking around - I was off belay, had just finished lunch, and was still in the "base/belay anchor area", just unnclipped, scrambled down an easy 5 feet to retrieve gear litter because leave no trace, ledge gave way, and i took a tumble. Arms and legs covered in scabs, body in general pain, shoulder and ribs sore as fuck, and it REALLY goddamned hurts to laugh.

Butttt I'ma be fully recovered with no last injuries in another 4 weeks, because im a hard ass motherfucker like that who don't take no shit from gravity and measly 50 foot falls that only serve to cull away the genetically inferior. I also spec'd into luck, as you naturally should do when starting your playthrough.

I'm now grounded from climbing and snowboarding for 6 months.
I'm in hella pain recovery for. 5sh weeks. Not paralyzed, full recovery expected, just lots of pain.

I may compound on this moreso later, but meds kicking in and I'm sleepy.

Or kill me. Because gravity is a bitch and couldn't do. It.

Aneristic Illusions / Rio 2016 shitshow thread
« on: August 01, 2016, 11:02:44 pm »
Because we're one week out and it's too late to abort. Warning - auto play video on site.

Just days ahead of the Olympic Games the waterways of Rio de Janeiro are as filthy as ever, contaminated with raw human sewage teeming with dangerous viruses and bacteria, according to a 16-month-long study commissioned by the Associated Press.

I know they've already fired all of the security force, are having boat-docks collapse, have had athlete orgy village fires start & laptops stolen from rooms, Zika, robbed/mugged paralympians, robbed tourists, and of course, the disease water.

The next 2 weeks are going to be quite the train wreck. Already reading /r/apocalympics2016 daily.

Aneristic Illusions / Justice Scalia Dead. THANK FUCKING CHRIST.
« on: February 13, 2016, 10:37:26 pm »

Good riddance you fat fuck shitneck hold out.

Completly turned my day around.

Or Kill Me / With thanks to Kid Cudi
« on: January 18, 2016, 02:09:44 am »

I posted that first as an anchor, because it was the anchor. After last night, I now have the desire to write, which I typically haven't had in some time. So I'm writing it out, just like the other posts I've made here, so I can look back on it in 5 or 6 or 8 years, remember the hazy details time removes, and then nod, affirmed of the experience. This won't be that ranty, if anything, it's just writing out the details as they're fresh. Enjoy. Or don't. It's written for me.

The death rattle of my 20's is fast approaching. I'm 29 this coming week. Yes, I know that's not that old, but it's still got me a bit on fucking edge. After the navy shat all over my life's plans, parental cancer shat all over my lifes location, and the "Oh god I'm almost 30 and more or less single and living with my parents (due to cancer & only for another 5? months for his chemo, but still) in a shit awful town in shitneck Tennessee and what have I done with my life oh fuck me i've fucked up". Yes, I know this sentiment is ridiculous, but whatever. Thoughts happen. Still adjusting from not being on course to anything I had intended & pretty much having all of fucking 2015 be a waste of a goddamned year.


After the Navy & with 29 looming, I realized that I was now enabled to do some of the things I wanted to in my youth that service would have prevented me from doing. One of these was last night.

I didn't start experimentation with narcotics until relatively later than most. Like, 20's for majority of things. I've never smoked anything I couldn't grow out of the earth & imbibe pure & I've never used anything that requires a needle. Everything else, pretty much tried it to see how it went. The one exception was hallucinogenics.

I had tried E before, and honestly didn't have that great of a time with it. Enter Da6s in post navy world destroyed funk a month and a half after being kicked out. One of my good friends that I've known for damn near a decade, which also freaks me out, invites me to go see Pretty Lights in Nashville on Halloween. I say fuck it, why not. She's kind of a hippy and all about experiences & all the drugs. Good person besides all that. I love her in the most platonic of ways. She reaches out, I join her, her BF, and a bunch of people they go to music festivals with like Imagine and others. A few of the people in their group are the definition of candy kids. My friend offers me a type of E called "Snapchats". I've never done it outside of a hotel room with a significant other, and since the navy gave me the finger I decide to rebel and do it. That experience that night was fucking incredible. The venue was this outdoor show in downtown Nashville. Outdoor amphitheater, grassy incline. It had been sprinkling off and on through the day. Being halloween, everyone's in costume & there are some freaking amazing ones. Our group gets there, and we're all rolling at this point. The show proceeds to be one of the most surreal, incredible, and just sheer awesome experiences of my life. Here we are, this group of their friends and me,  no worries at all. The show is great. The music gives me chills. The lights are fucking incredible, and the sprinkling rain is the best part. Nothing will ever compare to the feeling of rolling outdoor at a concert looking up at a laser show & seeing countless rain drops falling through it, while also having the CONSTANT sensation of the rain on your face, shooting electric tingles down your spine like a fucking food orgasm with every impact. I get why people do that drug every chance they get. I don't know how many more times I'll ever do it, but it's one I'm ok with recurring to a safe in moderation extent, because even though that experience will never, ever be recreated in any way shape form or fashion in my life, having all of my serotonin being depleted rendering me totally care free was fucking fantastic. And only possible by the E. That night I realized in public on it, I'm extremely outgoing, chatty, and friendly. I fucking talked to sooo many people that night. One of the more awesome memories were these fucking jelly fish. Their costume was the following: 1 loofah, unraveled & cut into strips to make tentacles. Sombrero, with loofah tentacles attacked to act as the head of the jelly fish. Christmas/rave lights the same color as the tentacles in the trough of the sombrero. Bubble wrap & another loofah of the same kind over the top of said lights. They were simple, ingenious, and fucking amazing. I talked to a jelly fish for how long I don't know. Had a serious crush on her for days after that. I also got blessed by a ton of jesuses, and just had a fucking incredible time.

The next day, there was no "FUCK I HATE EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE" sensation like i'd had before. I had a weird content glow that lasted for days, that I decided I would be ok. On the drive back the next morning, I told my friend that I still had never tried any hallucinogenics but that I had wanted to since I was 20 years old, just for the experience one time. She tells me how she doesn't like mushrooms, and asks if I would be ok trying acid for my first time. I tell her sure.

3 weeks ago we decide that yesterday, weekend before my birthday, we're going through with this. OK. And now brings us to Kid Cudi and why I'm now a fucking fan of him.

I did one hit last night. It was a small white square with a picture of snoopy on it. Initially I hated it. Took for fucking ever to dissolve. It was like a spitball that would not go away. constantly in your mouth. We start by watching some music videos through her apple TV, through youtube to start. I first notice the initial effects on a robin schultz song, which btw, that dude has blown the fuck up and he's incredibly catchy and it's ridiculous how many of his fucking songs are constantly being played right now and they're all great. Anyways, it's a lyrics video on youtube, and the lyrics appear to be growing. OK. Weird. I discuss with my friend, she agrees it's starting with her too. The next few minutes are hazy, but my first wave was FUCKING INTENSE. She changes music, I'm trying to handle whatever the fuck is going on in my world. I'm not seeing anything at this point, but having issues focusing on anything. She plays kid cudi. It's some stupid video with stupids shitting fire. It might've been demonlaser or majorlaser or some other fucking EDM (god i fucking hate the term EDM so fucking much ever time I use it i rage inside a little bit but it fucking works god dammit) artist with the name laser in their name. Whatever. This video has like, hell imagery in minimalist style with trumpets shitting fire, and I'm like "NOPEEEE". She goes to the next song. I don't remember the next song. All I remember, is that it was just a picture of the Kid Cudi album cover listed. The above image. This is my jumping off point.

For whatever fucking reason, the above album cover is fucking BEAUTIFUL to me. What I'm about to describe is all from the course of like, 3 and a half minutes of this song. It's crazy at this point how deep the impact is, was, will be just from so short a fucking time.

First thing I see are the stars. Each one is its own fucking galaxy. They fade in and out, like glowing-dimming christmas lights. They twinkle. They swirl. The night sky in that fucking album cover is a alive. There are shooting stars. The cosmos are fucking in view to me and they're beautiful. I'm dumbstruck. All I want is to keep staring at this fucking image. Words don't do justice the hazy memory of how vibrant & just active the sky in that single, still frame picture were. The second thing I look to is his profile. It looks cell shaded but not quite, thing Borderlands art but sharper. He also starts a kind of shimmy shake dance back and forth like looking at him from 2 different angles. I'm amused, but I again return to the stars. They're still incredibly, swirling galaxies and just inifinite. I love it. I look to the left & see the weird hazy smoke lines on the left side for lack of a better term. They're on both sides. The smoke climbs, like an incense trail off a burning stick of incense. The stars twinkle, the smoke dances. I focus on the left smoke. It takes the form of a female body silhouette a la a james bond intro. She dances, sensually. She morphs into like a snake of smoke. She morphs into a volcano. It's fucking cool. I return to the stars. They're still alive.

The song fucking ENDS. And it's the WORST FUCKING THING EVER. Like, I plead with my friend "Bring that back! I need that back!". She can't. My joy is temporarily crushed. The next song is a video with moving people, I tell her I can't deal with movement, and I need to stare at something until I'm done with it and decide I'm ready for something else to stare at.

She's in the kitchen as she's feeling nauseous from how fucking intense the first wave is. IT REALLY FUCKING WAS. That's one thing I'll always caution people interested in trying it. It's sooo fucking intense. I wasn't ready for it. I did ONE. I can't even fucking fathom how damned scene kids at shows do 3 or 4 in PUBLIC.

Anyways. She's in the kitchen. I walk to her, ask her if she's got any kind of like, art pictures. Or something I can stare at. In the mean time, I stare at a white flower. The white flower dances. It doesn't dance like, up and down and around. It makes concentric circles inside with its pedals, like some fucking kaleidoscope image of the flower. It's fucking cool. She tells me she has 1 art book of salvador dali in her room. Not personally a dali fan, but fuck it, I'll try it. At this point I realize her music isn't doing well for me, I retrieve my faithful ipod nano that desperately needs to be replaced because he's like, fucking 9 years old at this point, but goddamned if he doesn't still work. I love mr. nano. I retrieve him, fuck with my songs, realize almost ALL of my shit is way too fucking angry or fast or depressing for the current situation. THIS IS NOT GOOD. I cycle through. I stop on motherfucking JUSTICE and they save the day. Civilization - 

I listened to Civilization I have no fucking idea how many times last night. I also played Incubus - Warning, FC Kahuna - Hayling, Zero 7 - waiting line, eclectic mix of pretty lights, ratatat, and some others. Depending how my mood felt based on what I was looking at. This other music came later though, Civilization was on repeat while I sought my happiness again, that kid cudi had so graciously offered me originally.

I get the dali book. It's not doing it for me. HOWEVER on the cover of the dali book, there's this mish mash of dali art with a bunch of dots at the top morphing into birds. One of these bird dots turns into a fucking fairy from zelda. It flaps its wings. It twinkles. It's black. I LOVE IT. I giggle and grin like a fucking idiot. Another bird dot flaps its wings. and flys. Other dots dance around each other like some kind of birds eye view of a waltz of dots. I at this point am cradling the dali book gawking at the cover mouth agape with my feet under a space heater for warmth because her floor was fucking cold hardwood and I wasn't capable of sitting down without a constant source of kid-cudi esque brilliance. By cradling I mean I'm clutching it like a fucking girl with a diary in anime. I decide I'm done with the fairy and birds, and need something else. I put the book back, which at this point is fucking AWKWARD still. Coordination is fucking hard while the waves are ongoing, and the first wave was the worst EASILY. Lasted the longest, but was fucking INTENSE. I really can't iterate that enough.

She has a picture rendering on the wall in her room of the sunsphere in Knox. I ask her if I can take it down. She says yes. I cradle it. I look through it. The light up rooms in the gold sphere have active scenes playing, including some of my own memories from my own POV. The buildings in the background twinkle. The lights in the stairwell morph and take on their own life. I'm dissatisfied though, but it's still cool as hell. I put it away.

Genius strikes me. I ask my friend if I can use her laptop to find something to stare at. She says ok. She's the best.

I don't know what I googled. She told me to save whatever I found and loved, because I'll never be able to find it again. I've tried while typing this. I can't. It wasn't "Milky way galaxy art". It wasn't "galaxy art". It wasn't "milky way art". I did find one of the images that i KNOW for a fact was incredible. Here it is.

I basically spend the next 4 hours staring at different art styles of the galaxy on her computer, downloading and saving them. Typing was hard. Saving was hard. Any coordination that isn't observation in a wave was damned near impossible. I really have no idea how people function on it in public.

I stare at this galaxy art. I stare at all of them. Every one is alive with the infinite, just like kid cudi's background. They swirl like hurricanes. The center eye changes to a portal to a stargate to a robot eye to a pool to countless other things. Circles form & dance around it, like a halo ring of concentric circles spinning in tandem. Stars twinkle, become their own galaxies, swirl, spin, pulse, blink, disappear, and explode. Stars shoot across and explode like fireworks. It's the most fucking incredible thing I've ever seen on a computer screen. It's fucking mind blowing, which I get is the whole fucking point of hallucinogenics, but still. I wasn't prepared for the sheer awesome.

The above paragraph describes pretty much every fucking galaxy art that I looked at and liked. I cycled through the songs i mentioned on repeat i don't even know how many times while just staring at these galaxies, taking everything in. The waves taper off, we become functioning, able to talk. The waves at this point still creep up on you, as we were talking about lasik as I still say it's the best money I ever spent, she hands me her glasses to see her perscription, and it's a trigger for another wave. I go back to my galaxies. My space. My universe. All the stars continue. I watch a full supernova overtake a portion of the screen. I watch a seascape be sucked into a black hole. New galaxies form, rotate one another like some superstorm hurricane, until they merge and return to the same image.

The wave subsides, and it's the last major one. We proceed to watch the entirety of drunk history season 3 on hulu. Chiquita banana's are fucking awful. They've done some bad shit. That chick on the banana label is a little cunt. Fuck chiquita banana's.

I don't get to sleep until like, 6 AM. Today, I had a slight body hang over but I attribute that to being late 20's and sleeping on a fucking futon.

I'll probably never do that again. But god fucking dammit, what a cool, holy shit, surreal, fucking amazing experience. I'm glad I tried it in my 20's. The curiosity was there, and I had it exactly how I wanted it. And it's all thanks to Kid fucking Cudi. I don't even like Kid Cudi. But i'm going to buy that goddamned album. Respect.

I can totally see how it can fuck you up in a bad way, especially if you did it alone or allowed your environment to not be pleasant. There was one point where my friends music on the TV was this awful grating vibe beat that was overpowering my headphones, and I started to see the center of the galaxy as ghostly forms and wraiths and shit, and i quickly was like "NOOOO CHANGE THAT SHIT NOW NOT OK". Having a friend handy and maintaining composure anytime something isn't being great would probably be recommended.

Still though. I tried hallucinogenics for the first time at the end of age 28, and i'm glad I fucking did. I'm totally ok if I never do them again, because my experience was fucking amazing.

Also, I goddamned LOVE galaxy art now. Fucking hell. I'm shit for artistic talent but i want to make fucking galaxy art now like crazy. Easily understand why creative geniuses attribute it as a GREAT choice.

Or Kill Me.
Just make sure Kid Cudi knows he's appreciated if you do.

Or Kill Me / Sisyphus
« on: September 21, 2015, 05:51:15 pm »
There will be an ongoing follow up to this, because now I live somewhere that happiness does not, and I'll just need to share this shit.

When last I posted here, I was set to ship to Navy Recruit Training Command, or Navy Boot. I did that. This post is about that.

On July 21st I flew out to basic. Arrival and P(rocessing)-days were as awful as everyone said they would be. Easily the worst aspect was dealing with all these fucking entitled 18 and 19 year olds that had never worked a job in their lives and went straight from mommy and daddy providing everything to the US government providing everything. Their drama, bullshit, and everything else was barely tolerable. Luckily there were a few other mid - late 20's guys that I bonded with pretty early one which kept me sane.

A year ago in August I had a Pilonidal Cyst removed, because apparently that's just one more way my genetics are fucked - on top of the heart disease, prostate cancer, melanoma, male pattern baldness, and horrific allergies my probably tennessee-inbred gene pool cursed me with. It was sucky. I was on a hold for 6 months after this surgery before I could do MEPS and start the bullshit process of enlisting. This is relevant.

I was in Delayed Entry Program (DEP) from beginning of march until I shipped in July. My recruitment office was in Denver, roughly a 28 mile commute from my apartment in Boulder. I had to make that drive at least once a week, sometimes twice, a few times thrice. This is on top of the lies, sick days, vacation time, and everything else I had to do to bend to the recruitment offices demands for my getting in - all the while being met with threats of being kicked out and not allowed to join. Lots of bullshit hoops. Lots of unnecessary stress to accommodate them while working full time. Very little leeway or meeting in the middle from them - i had to conform to their scheduling demands ONLY. There were multiple times when I did the 28 mile drive to the recruitment office to find that the recruiters had left to go to a meeting unannounced, with my own scheduled meeting at their office canceled unbeknownst or announced to me. Too much bullshit, but hey, I was joining to serve and it was the start of my sacrifice. It was worth it.

Real basic starts, and the bullshit early weeks go by uneventfully. I pass my swim qual. I pass my sit ups, my push ups, my run. I pass all the entrance medical exams. I do all the inoculations without issue. I get through everything annoying and start to get into the actual fun and interesting parts of basic training. I have all uniform pieces issued, including my dress uniforms. I'm in, I'm doing it, It's happening.

At the start of my fifth week of being at basic, my 3-3 day of training (p-days don't count and I was in them for a week and a half) I notice a pain near my tail bone with what I assume is a standard take a round of antibiotics and it goes away abscess. It fucking was, but that's besides the point. Since I'm on base and have tri-care and the government gives a shit about its property, I go to medical. This was August 16. The support officer that sees me diagnoses me with a glance as having a recurred pilonidal cyst, since this condition can recur and I've had it already. He immediately puts me in for a I&D. He cuts me open, drains it, packs it, and bandages it incredibly shittily.

He then proceeds to shatter my hopes and dreams in a single conversation.

He tells me that this is a medically disqualifying condition and even though it hadn't recurred after my surgery MEPS should never have allowed me to come to basic knowing this condition existed. This was fucking bullshit because it is NOT a medically disqualifying condition.

He tells me that because this could cause issues in the fleet which would have me off my feet for possibly weeks at a time and would hurt my shipmates, the Navy has been very wary about anyone with this condition. First I'd been fucking told about this.

He tries to tell me that I made fraudulent enlistment by joining with this condition. This was also fucking bullshit as all my paperwork from the procedure a year ago was in my file. He acknowledged this begrudgingly 25 minutes later.

He tells me that I am going to be administratively separated. He doesn't say it like that though. "Because you already had surgery on this and it happened again, we're sending you home. If you fight it and try to stay, you're going to be set back in training possibly a month and you will for sure lose your rate (job)." This hits me like a meteor.

Because it was a Sunday, and he wasn't the actual medical officer, he couldn't actually process my separation. He tells me I have to come back tomorrow but that I should prepare that I'm being kicked out of the Navy for this medical issue. He tells me that he's never seen anyone that'd had surgery on this condition with it recurring at basic get to stay.

I'm devastated. I cried more on August 16th than I ever had in my life. It was awful. I go back on the 17th, and am told I'm being separated for it since I'd already had surgery. I could fight it, but chances were very slim that I'd win since I already had a history of it. I ask if it was confirmed I had a cyst, to which I'm told that the Navy isn't going to do anything invasive to remove and test, but that the symptoms reflect that I do. She was actually kind and felt bad for me, but I'm pretty certain she had orders to not allow this condition through, regardless. She assured me that if I had another surgery after I got home, and then waited a year with no recurrence, I could then start the process over and re-enlist! She didn't realize she basically told me that I'd have to do all the hoops all over again at basically 31 instead of 28, and that there'd be no guarantee I'd get a job I wanted even if I did that. Oh, and I'd have to re-do all of basic including p-days.

I'm ASMO'd out of my division. They graduated this past Friday, the 18th of September. I was in SEPS (Separations) for 2.5 weeks. It was fucking hell.

SEPS is basically minimum security prison on base, but it's non punitive! They repeatedly tell you that being in SEPS isn't punitive. They wake you up at Rev, they inspect you for shaving, they lock you in a room, they take you out for morning chow, they bring you back, they lock you in a room. This rinses and repeats all day. They put you to bed before taps. Day in day out. You can write, read, talk, watch shitty movies on a tiny tv. You can't PT or do any kind of training. You can't leave or make calls or use internet or do anything freely - you can do these things at certain times at the NEX if time permits, which it never does. You have no freedom.

SEPS was fucking awful. It's seriously minimum security prison.

They sent me home on September 3rd. Unfortunately, I sold my car, quit my job, let my lease run out, and gave up my insurance to join the Navy. As a result, I'm now living with my parents in my shitty fucking home town in north east bum fuck tennessee. I'll be here for a few months at least to save and buy a car and move somewhere. My father isn't in the best of health so I'll probably stay closer for a few years at least, before heading back to the paradise that is the west.

The navy fucked me. And now I'm at square fucking one at the age of 28. Starting the grind all over again. So fuck off.

Or Kill Me.

Aneristic Illusions / Oink
« on: September 21, 2015, 11:48:20 am »

Quoting a “distinguished” contemporary, the Daily Mail reported that the then-future British Prime Minister, in his student days in Oxford, participated in an outrageous initiation ceremony that involved a dead pig’s body and at least one of Cameron’s “private” parts.

Mother of god. I love the Internet age.

Aneristic Illusions / I joined the Navy a week ago.
« on: March 09, 2015, 03:32:02 pm »
MEPS kind of sucked but I passed my physical. Contracted for a Mass Communications Specialist Rate (Navy Journalist / Photographer). And I am freaking stoked for that.

I was trying for something Intel but apparently having 7 speeding tickets in 12 years makes you a fucking liability for a TS clearance. Which is bullshit. "If you had maybe 5 tickets it wouldn't have been an issue". Oh well. I might still try to crossrate into something CT after I'm in. Then again, I've heard of MC's loving their work so much they stick with it for as long as possible.

I take shitty photos but am confident in my writing. Granted I'll have to learn to write with no voice whatsoever and excessive uses of He Saids/She Saids. But hey, the training is designed for 18 year olds fresh out of high school. Confident I can swing it.

Only real thing I'm anxious about is surviving P-days at RTC. If I make it through them without issue, I think I'll be home free. RTC proper won't break me.

Started a new diet and exercise routine for this. My innards are extremely pissed off at the amount of healthy 4X a day measured meals Im shoveling into it.

Here's a blog I found of what all I'll be doing for anyone that's curious:

Now, to wait 4 months for my July shipdate. Might keep updating this same thread. Probably will. If any of you have any legitimate advice, do please share. At 28 I'm definitely no longer cocksure and all knowing.

Police with snipers on tanks in bumfuck Missouri town. Journalist for wash po and huff po arrested for working in a McDonald's.

And that's just been this evening. 

Sitting at a bar and kinda buzzed so I imagine and plan and depend on this post getting updated later today. With more feels. And stuff.

Today marks the one year anniversary since my last shift ever in hospitality. And damn freedom feels fucking amazing. Herein will be all of the trivial bullshit that I do not miss. And also, why getting the fuck out was a great choice.

Let's start with the things I do miss. Since that's a much shorter list. It's cheesy as all hell, but I miss the magical pseudo happiness that lingers over a tourist resort. It's surreal. It's vacation. And living in it on a day to day basis can confuse and bewilder. Actually, the vacation magic is what made the fantasy shattering shit so much worse. Outside of this vacation eutopia world you'll live in, the miserable fucks in the trenches with you make up some of the best coworkers you'll ever have. Because you're completely in it together. Hell or high water, you're helping your team get through the shit, and now that I work in IT from home, I really miss that comradery. There's nothing like a smoke break or a back office bitch fest about the unreasonable family that expects 5 star treatment at a 2 star rate. I miss the views. Being able to stop during any work day and just take it in. I haven't smoked consistently since I was 17 but the times of high stress at that job that led to my buying a pack of camel Turkish silver resulted in bliss. There's something about a late night cig in the silence of a snowstorm watching the kats groom for the next say that is just perfect. I miss that the most I think. Huehuehue Eris blah blah but honestly I miss the unpredictable chaos the job had. The fact every night some totally fucking off the wall situation could give me a bar story for life.

Or Kill Me / How to Survive a Ski Resort Town: 2013/2014 edition
« on: October 31, 2013, 06:56:27 pm »
4th winter in the mountains. Going to try a similar direction to the one I wanted last years to go in, before shitty job and shitty shitty schedule ruined it. The format may be shorter than past posts, with more pictures and more one off's bitching about things. Such as

It's god damned October. Today is the 4th fucking day in a row we've had snow. Said snow was supposed to have stopped last night sometime. It didn't. Normally I'd be stoked for this, but noooo. The mountain I look at while working doesn't open for another 8 fucking days. The one mountain that is open, Arapahoe Basin (A-Bay, A-Basin, my pre or post season mountain) fucking closes at 4:00 PM. Since I'm now a member of the US worker drone society, my 7 am - 4 pm does not allow me to make it over.

Having said that, despite only being open for 2 and a half weeks, I've already ridden 3 days. Which is a sign my season is off to a strong start. Here's hoping I don't get fucked like last season.

Either my first or second winter out here I managed to royally fuck my right knee up. It happened in either the Outback at Keystone first winter or in a powder day at Vail during second winter or both. Basically, I managed to twork my knee in both instances. At Keystone, I hit an unexpected mogul, overcompensated with a hard turn to survive it without bailing which my knee was not prepared for. This happened near the end of the season, I took a week and a half off, and went back. It was tender but I never had any issue walking on it. The second at Vail was worse. It was a crazy powder day with hellacious flat light. For the uninitiated, "flat light" is when it's a cloudy/demi-foggy day on the mountain with the sun shining through the fog/clouds. The light from this causes the snow to appear flat, despite that it may be a very steep section. The problem with flat light is it's impossible to judge misfalls such as gulleys or ravines, or in psychotic cases, cliffs/drops. In flat light you typically use trees to gauge descents. What happened to me in this case was I was playing in a bowl in a sick 4 inches of powder. At the end of the bowl there's this long cattrack back to the lift. I was enjoying myself and playing, and didn't see a ravine to the left side until I was already inside of it. I made an attempt to carve out of it too late, and ended up slamming the nose of my board into a powder wall. Momentum kept me going and though I was able to bend my left knee properly to fall, my right knee came into the stop at a very bad angle and I torked it really bad again. Much worse, as I fell over in pain and back slid down the ravine. It took me a solid 45 minutes to dig myself out. Fuck flat light.

Once I got back up and started skating (when front foot is strepped into board, and back foot pushes similar to propelling a skateboard" toward the lift. I made my way back to the village and everytime I had weight on my right knee it would burn in agony and start to tremor. I only went out for maybe 5 more days that season, luckily this happened end of Feb so my season was almost over.

Last year I had an epic powder day at Beaver Creek and decided to say fuck it and ride like hell all day. 6 hours in of total leg abuse and my legs feel like jello. On my last run back to the viillage base area I had to swerve hard to avoid a beginner who should not have been on a blue run and in the process my knee noped the fuck out and decided it was done for the day. This caused me to actually walk with a limp for 3 - 4 days. Happened in mid february, and cut my season short.

Went to dr for preventative care visit recently and asked about the knee. He checked it, said he thought it was fine with the exception of the muscle on the left side of said knee, no clue what it's called. As a result i'm now doing band exercises to strengthen it as well as wall sits. Bring it the fuck on.

As I was saying, it's still fucking snowy and 25 degrees and my goddamned mountain doesn't even open until a week from tomorrow. Pointless fucking snow. It's not even accumulating really, just blowing and making everyone out in it miserable for no reason. I hate wind snow.

Might continue this one. Might create a new. we'll see.

Or Kill Me / Street Observations from the punishment chamber
« on: July 14, 2013, 10:22:39 pm »
So I'm currently working 2 jobs, 7 days a week all summer long like the good little masochistic whore that I am. Currently sitting in a "kiosk" for my rafting company gig, where is really just a fucking glass octagon cage that I sit in while tourists walk by constantly. I endearingly refer to work station as the punishment chamber, since it's nigh impossible to be productive while having to smile at every jackass that happens by, on the off chance they'll come inside and actually ask me about rafting/zipline trips, and not 15 minutes of Q and fucking A about all things town. Since I'm on display as a zoo for 5 hours today meanwhile phones are dead, I'm going to rant about every single tourist stereotype that has the misfortune to walk past me. Just cause.

Summers in high country ski resort town CO are the best climate imaginable. Daily: highs do not exceed mid 70's, no humidity, no allergies, no bugs. It's a special kind of paradise. At least until 4th of july. 4th of july is when the fucking summer mountain tourists arrive and the absolute tranquility of this place is shattered by infuriating idiots everywhere.

So I've mentioned it elsewhere, but I live in Breckenridge, CO, in a fucking clutch apartment on main street. Mainstreets got tons of pedestrian crosswalks along it, with main itself stretching about a 15 minute walk. I don't know distances, nor do I care. There are really 3 red lights along main, one at north, one at mid, and one at south. The south redlight is part of what inspired this.

Today was the FOURTH fucking time in the past 2 weeks that I was almost clipped by a goddamned tourist turning right on red when I was crossing in the fucking crosswalk with the walky man as my spirit guide. The tags on this offender? Illinois. It's like because this is a peaceful place all rules of the road and how to interact with pedestrians fucking vanishes in a dismal case of vacation brain. Shit's awful.

There's a restaurant behind my cage called "rasta pasta". There's a french bakery beside it. 70% of people who walk by me will speak one of these two phrases. There's another place beside them called the Lost Cajun. It has obnoxious facehole plywood cut outs of a gator and a what i'm assuming is supposed to be a cajun guy? by their door. Three little shits just ran down the stairs screaming wanting their picture taken. One of them started crying when he didn't have a facehole. Smiling at the people who just walked by was easier.

Some geriatric fucks just had a make out session for about 20 seconds right in front of my goddamned window. I don't know why.

ASIAN TOURISTS! I love these guys. They never talk except to ask directions and when they do if you point to guide with your hand they point as well. Typical asian tourists for everyone, but they aren't bad. Unless they're driving, which I don't recall seeing this summer yet.

Main street has shit loads of parallel parking. Tourists have no idea how to parallel park their SUV's. I have a game wherein I stare at the driver. HOLY SHIT IM NOT KIDDING THIS FAT UNSIGHTLY LADY JUST BUMBED THE RED CAR SHE WAS PARALLEL PARKING BEHIND! Couldn't have been scripted if I wanted it to be. Just watched that happen in real time. I'm now leaving a sticky note on teh victims windshield notifying them of what happened. YESSSSSS. Ok, as I was saying, I stare down the driver while they do a shitawful parallel parking job in the hopes that what LITERALLY just happened happens, so that then they know there's a local witness. That was awesome. Hail Eris.

Colorado is for dog lovers. Especially up in the high country. Since I started typing this there's been at least 8 different breeds strolls by on their leashes, from a great pyr to a pug. 95% of these animals are extremely well behaved, but for whatever stupid reason the other 5% have shitty owners and they are unruly. One of these 5% just went by, started barking insanely loud and agressively for no fucking reason. And the owner just patted it on its head and told it to hush. Real effective lady.

I think a schizo just walked by. Either that or he had a bluetooth douche headset on. Either's possible. Probably the latter. May've been high on something.

We are a fat fucking country. CO is spared from this mostly, but our fat demographics increase exponentially in summer when the tourists flock. Lady just walked by with a hershey kiss shaped body. Unfortunate.

There's a weird ass trend in bootwear this summer where there's like frilly leather strap tassels hanging from boots with poof balls. What I don't even.

I really enjoy the eye candy that summer brings. Especially when it's families. My routine is typical smile through my glass cage at the approach family, make eye contact, do a quick up down check out of the attractive daughter, proceed immediately to making eye contact with the father while I purposefully widen my smile. Their brows usually furrow. It's the little things. Also, whoever inspired the yoga pants trend needs to be rewarded and knighted and praised and sainted. Hail that beautiful man/lesbian/exhibitionist. Going further into the eye candy aspect, this county is a sausage fest hell of 3 to 1 male to female ratios, with a local saying of "it's not your chick, it's just your turn". This was told to me by multiple bartenders. I probably mentioned this in a shangri, but it needed to be repeated.

And as if on cue, a trio of neckbeards walks by! And the largest among them who had to be pushing 300 was wheezing hard. Red faced too. Breathing at 9600 feet sucks a bit.

And then two more stereotypes that are annoying happened. For starters, cycling is huge up here. Lots of shops to rent cruzer bikes from since there are miles and miles of bike paths. In town here, there are bike lanes alongside the road. Dumb tourists just cruised by on the sidewalk, because fuck it, I don't give a shit about all these people walking, I'm a tourist on a bike! Fuck your sideWALK!. The second stereotype was the elderly couple that doubles back. This happens probably at least 3 times a day - old couple walks by slowly, stops, looks at the shops behind my cage, continues walking 15 feet past my cage, stops again, looks around for 45 seconds, turns around and walks back the way they came.

Some douche with a faux hawk acros the street just let his dog shit on the sidewalk and didn't pick it up. Fucking tourists. A few seconds later a guy with a popped collar strolls by. That's out of style, right?

Just had to play tour guide for a family from Kansas who stepped inside my shop to ask me where teh closest bathroom is. After that, they proceeded to ask me all things breck resort related (not town related), and didn't seem to understand that my 2 day a week job is to tell her about rafting.

In the past 3 minutes I've heard 3 lost cajuns, 1 rasta pasta, and 1 french bakery. Make that 2 rasta pastas. Now 3. I should really keep a tally one day. They don't even inquire about the places or look at their menu, they just say the restaurants name outloud for whatever reason as they walk by. The mind reels. Another common thing that I've noticed today is I've heard 3 different older fellows bitch to their families about carrying all the shopping bags. And a fat lady in a breck got oxygen t shirt just wheezed loudly going DOWN the 8 stairs behind me. No oxygen is a bitch.

I'm not sure why but loud ass motorcycles driven loudly in the summer up here are a thing. And the drivers do this in packs. It's like the tranquil peaceful quiet of the rustling leaves and chirping birds is too much for them to take and they have to drive these ass blaster bikes as loud as they possibly fucking can in a herd of 4+. One of these packs just drove by. I had a call right as they did, and they were too loud for me to hear the lost person who was asking me directions questions.

One of my favorite parts of summer up here is that every day like clockwork between 3 - 7 pm it rain. It never lasts more than 10 - 15 minutes tops, and usually is a light drizzle except for maybe 2 minutes of downpour, tops. Today it started at 2:45. When it starts the tourists FREAK. There were multiple families that sprinted by. The veterans who know their shit have been strolling around in their rain jackets like bosses. I just had a couple duck into my kisosk for a minute and a half, asking me inane questions about rafting with no real curiosity behind their voices so it didn't look obvious to me they were avoiding the heavy parts of the rain. 8 minutes later and the sky is blue again.

I had kind of hoped there'd have been more worthwhile examples to cross my path today so that I could share them with the expected amount of vitriol Or Kill Me warrants, providing more than just generic people watching that is partially what you find in any hub with people. Alas, not to be today.

Of course now that I'm closing this out I'm sure the shitshow will arrive. Until the next time I'm raging in this glass octogon.

-Or Kill Me

Or Kill Me / Shangri Fleeting
« on: April 15, 2013, 04:14:17 am »
I quit my job.

My last day of resort employment was last sunday. Monday morning at 5 am I drove to LA. In 4 hours im driving the long way home courtesy of this fuck all storm. My new job starts Tuesday at 10 am.

I intend to log and vent about the bullshit that went down over the past 5 months once im back. I think it'll maybe bring closure to that job.

Stay tuned.

Or Kill Me / The Winter Resort Survival Guide (Shangri pt 3)
« on: October 05, 2012, 11:39:00 am »

I left Shangri. I was tired of living at work. Not to mention Shangri's for family's and that really just wasn't doing it for me. Plus I found a clutch apartment on fucking main street in Brecca. Well, the apartment itself is dated as hell, but goddamn my location is fucking fantastic.

I'm going to attempt to keep this running from the point the snow flies. Well, the fun snow. This weekend's forecast probably won't amount to anything. This will also serve as a lingo guide so you don't look like a fucking gaper when talking to some steezies on the hill. I fucking hate this place sometimes. And now the opener:

If you're reading this you're either bored as fuck or somewhere along the lines your interest has been piqued about the ski bum lifestyle. For the record, I hate this term. There's really no bums that I've encountered, just a lot of hard working broke motherfuckers. The closest thing we have to bums are trustafarians. These are the trust fund kids who live off their inheritance and do nothing but smoke themselves stupid and then play on the snowy mountain. I'm sure they piss and shit somewhere in there too. Cost of living in a resort town is stupid high. You will never become wealthy working on a ski resort. But you can have a lot of damned fun.

To give yourself the best chance of a job you need to know the hiring schedules and how the seasons work. I am speaking solely for Colorado in this. There are four distinct seasons: Summer, which starts around the 4th of July and ends early September. Shoulder, which starts early September & ends as soon as the mountains open and jobs are available (you can hope and pray for early November). Ski Season, which is AKA winter and runs from November until about Cinco De Mayo.  And lastly, Mud Season, when the snow all melts and everyone gets laid off and the friends you've made dip out unannounced because they couldn't cut it. Now that you know these, when's the best time to come out for a gig? Honestly, late in Shoulder season. Once you arrive you'll be faced with two major options: Work for the beast (big ski resort corporation that chews up and spits out seasonal workers like it's nothing, and somehow isn't even phased when just under half of their entire housekeeping force gets deported the week of thanksgiving in a huge ICE raid) or work for small business. The beast has it's perks no doubt: they hire a lot more people (increasing your chances), they offer shitawful housing on resort as a benefit (imagine a terrible, awful dorm full of the families of all the migrant workers), they comp your ski pass, and they allow you to qualify for unemployment when you are laid off at the start of Mud season. And you will be laid off. Your other option is small business. These can offer you full year employment usually, but the benefits and perks will be nowhere near what the beast offers you. At best your pass will be paid for. But hey, you don't have to move home to mommy and daddy when the snow melts like a loser townie, so you have that going for you. If the beast sounds appealing, all of them usually offer job fairs late october & early november. Just showing up to these job fairs is a virtually guaranteed way of getting hired. Keep this in mind.

Stopping here for tonight. Will cover more about shoulder season at next update, which I really intend to do soon. Swear.

Winter Resort Dictionary:

This is not in alphabetical order because fuck you. This will be updated throughout the season.

Steezy - a term meaning style and ease. It's become synonomous with being a badass at either snowboarding or skiing, while also dressing in the hippest way possible. Wardrobes include huge saggy winter pants, tall tees that cover your ass, vibrant almost neon colors, and proform (expensive and the best on the market) gear.

Clutch - Nice, tight, awesome, spiffy, fucking fantastic, whatever.

Trustafarians - Trust fund kids who lives off said trust funds and do nothing but smoke themselves retarded and ride as often as they please. Usually they pay no rent and live in their parents condos.

Hill - The mountain, the slopes. You have a home hill. Be prepared to tell people you meet where it is on top of your favorite runs.

Runs - I thought you were a fucking snow sports enthusiast. Slopes. Jesus.

Pow Pow - Powder. In colorado it's champagne pow. White, fluffy, perfect bliss. Powder days are bragging rights.

Lines - The trail one makes in powder. These can also be referred to as turns in passing, such as "yeah, i took some turns on my lunch break..."

Gnarly - Fuck if I know. It means sick gross but somehow it almost means incredible, crazy awesome? I fucking hate this term.

Gaper - The worst face of tourists. Think Texans skiing in jeans. Referred to as gapers because they stand on the slope with their mouth agape looking at all the pretty scenery. They also have the same reaction while driving on the fucking road. Be prepared to hate and loathe them.

Village - The area of the resort where all the shops, bars, & restaurants are. Usually situated near the Gondola or a main lift.

The park - The usually minor section of the resort dedicated solely to the people who want to play & showboat. Park has features including rails, boxes, jumps, jibs, wall rides, and if you're lucky, a pipe.

Park Rats - Skiers & riders who live in the park. Their day on the hill consists of sitting in a line for a jump, doing said jump, landing or bailing it, and then rinse/repeat. I can see the appeal, but it's not for me. At all.

Bro-Brah's - Take your typical fratty douche. Make him smoke too much pot (now legal here), have him fail out of college & said fraternity, have him dress in ridiculous clothing including XXXL t-shirts affectionately called "tall tees", and make his preferred home be the park. In his arsenal is some of the worst pseudo ghetto slang you've ever heard, as well as rufies. Bro-Brah's are the douches of your mountain town. Best to just avoid them entirely, and laugh when they inevitably get a DUI or are arrested for starting a fight with a competing bro-brah. 

White Ribbon of Death - What's that? You want to ride in October? WELL FUCK YEAH WE'LL TAKE YOUR MONEY! Here, ride this granular god awful man made snow for a quarter of the mountain for hours on end. Oh, just know that around 10:30 AM it's going to be chopped up all to hell and be like the worst combination of a mogul field and a kat track that you can imagine. Oh, and there's also going to be 60 other people riding this 45 second run, so be ready to wait longer in the lift line and on the lift itself. I just hope for your sake no beginners scrape our imitation crushed ice away. Nevermind those twigs, shrubs, rocks, exposed mud, and holes in the ground. Think of them as challenges to increase your fun. But hey, we're letting you board our shitawful runs in October. Stop your bitching.

Posts will be updated as I think of more aspects for them.

Index by relevant post by yours truly:

I.   Intro, Seasons, & Glossary

II.  Cost of Living

III. Winter Driving

IV.  Resort Drinking

-Or Kill Me


Mass shooting in Aurora at the end of the Batman screening tonight.

(CBS/AP) AURORA, Colo. - At least 14 people were killed and dozens more injured by a gunmen who allegedly began his attack on Denver area movie-goers by hurling tear gas into the crowd at a Batman "The Dark Knight Rises" premiere around midnight on Thursday, police say.

Oats said a gas mask, a knife, and at least one rifle and a handgun were found on the suspect. Oats said the suspect informed officers that he had explosives in his home, which was in the local area. There was no suggestion of links to international terrorism.

Hour east of me. Actually found out while making the mistake of waiting for the credits to finish. Don't.

Calling it now: I give it 4 days until someone on Fox News blames video games.

I just know the suspect has a manifesto. He was wearing a fucking gas mask for christs sake.

I'm guessing that he's a crazy fundamentalist megachurch rich fuck from CO Springs who lost his house in the fire of gods wrath. Purging out the evil for the Lord.

I'm expecting Fox News to mention how close this was to Columbine at some point for added effect. Someone let me know if I get BINGO, ya?

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