PC MotorX

In the past I have been accused of posting only my adventures that contained lots of gore. I must agree. However, this is only because I think they are my only adventures worth posting.

So this time I will post my adventure in PC formatting.

It was a cloudless day, so I decided to go take a ride on my bike. As I backed my low-emission, ultra-light, non-fat, vitamin-enhanced, no-plants-or-animals-harmed-in-the-making Honda out of my garage, I could not help feeling good about how successful the fight to let every human follow their roots and do what felt right to them was going. I turned the key and felt my engine purr to life. I tell you what, nothing beats an electric motor. All you have to do is plug it in, and in 3hours it will magically be ready for an entire 20mile trip!

I looked down the road stretching in front of me. A warm feeling crept around me as I watched a bunny rabbit hop unheeding in the same direction I was traveling. I decided I should learn something from nature, so I followed the bunny. Soon we were out in the country going at a peaceful, relaxed pace. Here and there the bunny stopped to nibble some grass. What a perfect picture of what humanity should be: each member should go along peacefully minding only their own business, taking only what they need from the communal basket of goods and services provided by the overseeing organization of the world. Even while I was in the middle of this thought, an unnatural sound began to grow and shake the very earth I was traveling over.

Then I saw it coming fast. It was one of those monsters of society, one of those evil machines of destruction, one of those max-emission, ultra-heavy, toy-hauling destroyers of civilization.
Yes, it was an SUV!!

I floored my Honda to try and warn my bunny friend, but it was too late! The red liquid of life was spilling from his white coat of holiness. Suddenly a butterfly flew past me and landed on bunny. Bunny is probably happier as a butterfly anyways.

An Epic Skiing Adventure, part one

Well the other day my friend jellyfish and I done went and headed up to the mountains to do a little skiing, an like jellyfish always says about me: "I ain't much of a skier, but I sure would like to think I am!" So when we got there, we past through the ski lodge like a whirling dervish in an attempt to be the first ones on the ski slopes. It ensued that we in fact were the first folks in line for the big chair lift that takes you up to the top of the mountain. However, when we got there we took tally, and discovered were short; Jellyfishes polls, chew'n gum, and right glove, and that I had left my lucky ski helmet, goggles, and pants at home and instead was wearing, my cowboy hat, sun-glasses, and fabulous electric-green Bermuda shorts! But after putting our heads together, Jellyfish and I came to the conclusion that these were only miner setbacks, and that we wouldn't want to hold up a good ski day for such vanities.

See, Jellyfish and I know each other well enough to know that nether one of us would be so foolish as to let the loss of some important safety equipment get in the way of shredding the gnar. Naw', we know'z we'z brighter 'n 'at!

Getting on the chair lift was a trifle difficult seeing as we were distracted by the ski patrol guy's gliding down the mountain and gloating at us, saying that we would never really be the first ones on the mountain. But after only three serendipities of us falling off, the lift being stopped, putting our skies back on, and trying again, we achieved our goal. During one of these attempts however, Jellyfish ended up sprawled out in such a way that overly burlesqued one of the ski parolee's near fall upon determining our identities. But after all this, we were finally on our way to the gnarly POW we'd been dreaming of for months.

Life in the Spotligh, part four

When Gore started yelling we finally woke up. He was walking calmly around the room, smashing pitchers, throwing chairs, kicking mirrors; he was amazing. I have never seen such professional fit throwing in my life! We all retreated to the bathroom and locked ourselves in. After an emergency consultation (and placing a poll on the web), we decided to come out fighting.
We threw open the door and charged out yelling with all our might. Gore glared at us and suddenly we found ourselves retreating again. Al made a pounce in our direction and then Brock whispered, "Why did you wake us up!?"



Encouraged by this, Josh yelled "WE QUIT!! HA! HA! HA! NOW WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?" Gore lunged at us, grabbed us by the back of our necks and dumped us in a pile in the gutter. He then climbed into his tiny green tricycle car and proceeded to putt-putt down the road. 10 minutes and 3 feet later, I saw Al get out of the car, pick it up, and slam it repeatedly against a wall. Then I blacked out.


When I woke up, I was lying on the cement floor of a jail cell. Apparently the Vegas police system thought Josh, Brock and I were just a few wednesday morning drunks. After being released, we were hauled off to the Las Vegas Sanitary Facility, otherwise known as the dump. Soon all three of us had collected a few instruments and we decided to put on a show for those dull Waste Management workers.


This time, Josh had an old ukulele, Brock was on a broken piano, and I had a broom for a mic. Under the circumstances, I thought it sounded pretty good. Some guy started playing this cool beat behind us. It sounded like "beep, beep, beep, beep..." Maybe we should have got the hint, but we didn't, and the truck ran us over.


Now we are all home, separated forever. We decided being around each other gave us all bad luck. So much for my band.