Monthly Archives: February 2012

The Point Game

So my room mate and I play a game. I wish it had a better name, but simply it’s called “The Point Game”. As you can tell by it’s name, it’s a game where you get “points”. Now, you get these points by inception. Yes! By putting songs into other people’s heads.

You know how you can just be singing a song and you have no clue where it came from? That’s the game. The points are scored by sticking songs in your head! I can drop a hint, or start singing a song, and if you start singing it, I get a point.

Here are the rules:

  1. Points are awarded to the first person when the second person starts to sing, hum, whistle, or in any other way repeat a lyric or melody of a song (known as Fall) that the first person sung, hummed, whistled, or in anyway mentioned a lyric or melody of the aforementioned song (known as Setup).
  2. Points can only be awarded if the Fall happens on the same day as the Setup.
  3. The Setup is considered null and void if the Setup is performed with musical accompaniment, eg. the song being sung and played played with a guitar.
  4. The Fall must consist of 3 notes or 2 words of the Setup to award points.
This list isn’t complete and is constantly evolving.




He looks at me, coldly and without compassion.

“I don’t care that you don’t understand. ‘What is it that you want me to do?’ I want you to take that rock and carry it over there,” he says. “Don’t ask why, just do it.”

He cracks a smile. “That wasn’t so hard,” he says, his voice flavored with amusement. “Keep up this pace and you’ll be finished by next week. That’s it, grab another rock and put it with the others.”

He stands there. “You really should learn to get along with everyone. Fighting isn’t going to make your stay here any easier,” he offers sarcastically. “Learn to keep your head down. Your stay here is only temporary; you’ll be back home with your family in no time.”

He laughs hard at my expense, “That’s right! I heard about you; your family’s dead. Well, maybe soon you can join them. We always could use more cannon fodder – someone to soak up all those bullets flying around so our boys can shoot those trashy, no-good rednecks in the next fight.”

All laughter is gone, as he gets a distant look in his eyes. “My brother’s wife got taken in the last raid. Just those idiots wait until the river stops flooding. I don’t even know how they got across it.”

He stares off in the direction of the river for a moment, then quickly turns back. “No slacking! Move these rocks or you will wish you were cannon fodder already!”

I miss my car…

I called the mechanic to see how my beloved (and much missed) car was doing.

“Still waiting for the heads to come back from the machine shop, and the tech who took your car apart had to leave. His brother died last night. So we’ve got someone else coming in, but it’ll take a little bit longer since he didn’t take the car apart. We’re now looking at like Tuesday or Wednesday”


I was really hoping, betting actually, on getting my car back today. I already have a hotel reservation for Saturday night, and a race planned for Sunday. That’s about $90 bucks that is gone, unless I find a car to borrow. I’ve posted a status about it on Facebook, but I will only probably get responses from people in California.

More on being carless: It’s not THAT bad. I mean, once you get over the fact that it’s much harder to get around. You can’t do all your shopping in one trip, it sucks when it rains, and getting places after dark is hard.

I miss my car…

Ride the Divide

I just watched this movie:

It was really well done and the ride looked amazing. Amazingly pretty and amazingly hard. Out of the 16 or so riders that started only 6 or so finished.

One of the common threads was how boring and monotonous the ride was. just spinning your pedals for 2711 miles following a dirt road all the way from Canada to Mexico, climbing an astronomical amount of hills.

It made my legs hurt. Then it made me feel bad. I’ve been, well, not complaining, but maybe mentally suffering and bragging about how tough I’ve been this week. A 26 mile ride on Saturday killed my legs, then all this week I’ve been riding to work and back. A whole mile trip, one way. On these legs that are so dead and haven’t had any rest at all.

These guys have put more mileage on their legs in half a day then I have all this year.

Sometimes, I just get shoved back into my place.